#which happens just about once every leap year

[dustofthedailylife]

Atp, my favorite pastime activity is slapping rude customer supports some paragraphs in the face and reciting the legal norms when they're refusing to do what I legally have the right to get from them.

Because you're wrong bish and I know you are. Now do your thing - no matter how often you tell me you cannot do this - I know for a fact you have to do it. Don't mess with me.

Kind regards, your local law student (soon to be diploma lawyer) who takes no shit from you <3

They're usually really quiet really fast and do what I ask, as soon as I come around the corner with reciting laws *evil cackle* Studying law is absolute hell but the gratification you get from stuff like this makes it somewhat worthwhile.

[gojhoes]

“come one, come all”

summary: It’s the eighth annual haunted house held by your boyfriend’s university theatre program. You decide to pay it a visit in support of Gojo, but what happens when you get lost and find yourself alone with him in the Blue Room?

- contents: NSFW, MDNI. fem!reader x gojo, all characters in their early 20s, college student au, gojo is a theatre major, established relationship, dom gojo, sub reader, sex in a public place, smut, dirty talk (sacrilege, tbh), gojo speaks in quotes, p-in-v (why not), praise kink, unprotected sex, masque of the red death theme - wc: ~4k

Having been in the same year in high school, you knew very well of Gojo's affinity for pulling pranks. You also knew, however, that sometimes he could take it just a little too far.

It wasn't unusual to come home after a grueling day of exams to get jump-scared by Gojo before getting into the shower. More than once, he'd claimed to have stood behind doors for up to 30 minutes just so he could leap out and scare you as you walked by. Not to mention the time he'd camped out in the backseat of your car after overhearing that you were about to leave to meet Shoko somewhere. You'd come pretty close to accidentally stabbing him over that, and you made him promise not to do it again. But still, every time you got in the car, you peeked over your shoulder just to make sure there were no surprises.

October, the second month of autumn in the Northern Hemisphere and arguably your favorite of them all, had come at last. The changing of the leaves, the merciful drop in temperature, and new scents in the air were all pleasant. But the main reason you loved it so was Halloween.

It wasn't until you were well into your new relationship with Satoru that you discovered your love for the holiday was something he reciprocated. His university's theatre program held a haunted house annually, which he'd participated in religiously since his freshman year. So, being the supportive girlfriend you were, of course, you agreed to pay him a visit with all your friends.

The morning before your ticket for the haunted house was valid, Gojo waltzed up behind you as you stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. He slithered his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder, leaving sweet kisses all over your bare skin. Being that it was opening night, his day was starting early with back-to-back dress rehearsals. This meant he wouldn't be joining in the shower, as was usual, and that you would be alone until it was time to meet with Nanami and Shoko later. He was already dressed in his costume- a burned, destroyed, fake-bloodied ensemble that represented nothing in particular. It didn't matter to you, though. He could've been wearing rags and he'd still be the prettiest man you'd ever had the pleasure of looking at.

"Wear something cute tonight," he'd murmured into your ear before giving you a teasingly chaste kiss and heading out the door. For Satoru, 'cute' meant slutty, or something with easy access like a skirt with no panties. The implication sent your heart aflutter and resultantly, you were left distracted the entire day.

In the car, you tried desperately to pull down the skirt as it relentlessly rode up and threatened to expose your bare ass. Shoko had been able to convince Nanami to drive you, much to your surprise. Getting him to do anything outside of school hours was about as pleasant as pulling teeth, but with Shoko's promise to buy him a couple of beers, he'd eventually agreed without much grumbling.

Gojo had warned you that it would be packed for opening night, so the best course of action was to come early. Turns out, this one was one of the rare times when his advice had been useful, as the ticket line damn near wrapped around the block as you approached the haunted house itself. There were no phones allowed in the house per university rules, so Nanami offered to take yours before you took off inside.

"Aren't you coming?" you asked, a last-ditch effort to try and convince him to join.

"Absolutely not," Nanami replied stubbornly. "I'm here as the designated driver only."

Your face fell in disappointment, but you knew better than to try to argue with Kento Nanami.

You, Shoko, and 50 of your closest friends filed into a room much too small to house such an amount. The walls were painted to look like blood-spattered wood, and you could just make out the motifs of several different doors. Any trace of sunlight seemed to be sucked away the moment you entered, truly adding to the effect. You were impressed with the design thus far, feeling inclined to agree with Satoru's claims of his theatre program being The Best.

"I'm bugging out," Shoko said to your left.

"You claustrophobic?"

She gave you a look as if to say, "are you stupid?", and you raised your hands defensively. More and more people kept spilling into the room, squeezing you impossibly closer to the wall. There had to be at least 100 or more patrons occupying the space now, but there was no sign that the outer doors were going to close anytime soon.

A random frat boy tripped and crashed into Shoko, which not only pissed you off but also happened to be her last straw. She ignored the boy's attempt at an apology, all the color draining from her face in an instant. Her brown eyes were wide with fear as she sputtered out,

"Fuck this. I'm getting the fuck out of here."

Before you could get the chance to call after her, she turned quickly and hurried toward the way you'd come in. The crowd was impossibly thick, and she moved so fast in her panic that you were unable to catch up. Just as you made it to the edge of the crowd, the loud sound of a gong rang throughout the room at an ear-splitting volume.

Right before your eyes, the large doors swung inward with a melodramatic creaking, bathing the overly crowded room in complete darkness. At least Shoko had made it out safely. For a moment, nothing happened aside from the illumination of several dim lamps overhead. You thought that maybe someone had missed their cue, but then a sound sweeter than singing angels filled the room: Satoru's voice.

“Quiet, brats!” he boomed. The room fell silent in an instant- even you had to admit that the command sent a slight chill down your spine. You concluded that his voice was being carried over a set of speakers, as your boyfriend's familiar tall frame was nowhere to be seen.

“Our university’s theatre department would like to welcome you to its eighth annual haunted house.”

There was an awkward pause, and you heard someone cough.

“APPLAUSE, brats!”

You joined the others in a series of claps and forced cheers, smiling to yourself. No wonder Satoru enjoyed this so much; he was perfect for it. In your mind’s eye, you could see his lit-up face as he bellowed into a microphone in some nearby room.

He knew your time slot already, but you'd shot him a quick text to let him know you'd arrived before leaving your phone with Nanami to go in. You wondered if he’d spotted you yet, thinking maybe you should wave or something. Surely there had to be cameras in the room.

"'One thing I do dislike, are cowards'," Satoru went on. “However, because of your precious laws, emergency exits are marked in every section. As you proceed through the house, follow the WHITE ARROWS. Does everybody get that? WHITE. ARROWS. Everyone, repeat it so we get your verbal acknowledgment.”

In unison, the crowd obediently droned out ‘white arrows’, and you fought back a giggle at the absolute kick he must’ve been getting out of this.

“Wonderful!” Gojo cried, pretending to make his voice break emotionally. “Doing so well already, brats, makin’ me proud.”

He cleared his throat as murmurs of laughter floated through the room.

"NOW!" he shouted abruptly. "After I stop talking, the doors will open. There are seven of them, so choose carefully because God knows what might lie beyond the wrong one.

"And remember," he crooned. "'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.'"

A dramatized rendition of his signature snicker warped into deep, evil laughter as several doors opened on the room’s other three walls. The house-goers around you burst into nervous laughter and excited chatter as groups decided which way they would go. You trailed behind a group of high school girls on the premise that they'd likely be safer to follow than the frat boys you'd seen earlier.

It was a tight fit, to say the least. You found yourself at the back of the line as the holding room emptied and patrons passed over the various thresholds. The door you'd chosen to enter led into a long, dark hallway with, as promised, an arrow slathered on the floor in white paint. The same dim lanterns hung from the ceiling in intervals, though they did little in terms of providing much brightness.

The group of girls you'd chosen to follow turned abruptly into the first room off the side of the hall. It was a room painted completely in the dimmest of blue light, casting an eerie glow over your skin. It was a grand chamber, with impossibly tall ceilings and a chandelier hanging in the middle. You were unsure if it was the hued lightbulbs and lack of other illumination, but every prop in the room seemed to match in shade. You traipsed around the edges of the room, peeking at every object from the cerulean breakaway chairs to royal books and faux food.

When you glanced up in search of a guiding arrow, you found that you were completely alone. The girls you'd been dead set on trailing had disappeared. How was that even possible? You'd stopped only for a minute to look. Just moments ago, you’d been surrounded by people, trapped in a suffocating cloud of body heat and bad breath. It was so cold now in comparison, so dark, and so quiet. There wasn’t a shred of decent light in the room and having left your phone with Nanami, you had nothing in the way of a flashlight. You started feeling your way toward the wall to guide yourself when a familiar voice spoke, and your blood ran cold.

"I was hoping you'd go with that one."

You gasped at the sudden tickle of Satoru's breath on the back of your neck. Where had he even come from? The disappearance of your fellow patrons suddenly made sense as you dawned on the thrilling realization that you two were completely alone.

"You told me to dress cute," you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Satoru chuckled, low and breathy, and you felt the fine hairs on your neck stand up straight. "And that you did, didn't you? Always so good for me."

His praising words sent a wave of heat straight to the space between your legs. He wasn't yet touching you, though you could feel the warmth of his body from behind. You didn't dare move, having all but frozen under the weight of his proximity. Blood roared in your ears as your arousal burned low in your abdomen. Just his presence was enough to make you forget where you were in only the minute he'd gotten you alone.

"Always," you affirmed shakily.

You felt him move forward and close the space separating your bodies, his hips pressing against your ass. You willed your hands to remain at your sides and the air felt thick and hot, not unlike how the holding room had been just a few minutes ago. Something hard between his legs poked at your flesh and if you'd had any, your panties would've been soaked from that occurrence alone.

"'If you love me,'" Satoru murmured, his wet lips brushing against your neck. "'Then you will keep my commandments.'"

There were so many things about Satoru that were hot. His body, the charm, and his pretty face. But the way he’d sometimes speak in quotes and passages was by far his most attractive virtue. Perhaps some found it cringe-worthy, but the words slipped off Satoru’s tongue like honey and you hung off the end of each one.

“I love you,” you said, surer of that statement than of any other you’d uttered in your life.

His tongue and teeth took turns connecting with the soft skin of your neck. His pretty mouth latched on, sucking gently on your most sensitive spot as a hand landed on your side. You leaned into his touch, long fingers toying with the fabric of your skirt as they crept up your thigh. He trailed teasingly over every inch of skin you had to offer, and goosebumps erupted over the entirety of your leg. You heard him let out a sigh when his hand reached your bare hip under the skirt.

"Such a good girl," he said in a low voice. "Always doing exactly as I tell you to do."

"Satoru," you whined as his fingers flitted over your clit, which throbbed persistently in protest of the lack of stimulation.

"Shhh, keep it down," Gojo chastised in a whisper, circling his free arm around your waist. He pulled you into him roughly and you let out a small squeak. "Think of all those people who might hear. Don't want to scare them, do you?"

You opened your mouth to reply, only to slap your hand over it to stifle a moan when he slipped two fingers into you without warning. Your other hand grasped at the wall, searching for something, anything to grab to help cope with the sudden intensity of your pleasure.

"So wet," Satoru said softly, approval dripping from his tone. "All for me."

The hand crushing you against him slid down from your abdomen to your hip, creeping over agonizingly slow to rub circles on your achy clit. You relaxed into him instantly, the relief sending tingles through your whole being as he took his time fucking you on his fingers. His cock was painfully hard through the thin layers of clothing that separated him from you. You trusted him to hold you upright, retracting your steadying hand from the wall to reach down and palm at him behind you. As if rewarding you, the tips of his fingers curled against that sweet spot that made you dizzy, and you whimpered pathetically.

Your back still pressed to his chest, you fumbled over the waistband of his costume pants as you blindly slipped your hand inside. His cock strained against the fabric of his briefs so hard that you almost pitied him, already wishing to relieve him of the clothes and have him buried inside of you. You pulled his underwear down enough that you could feel the curve of him, running a single finger over what you could touch of the shaft. He laughed breathily into your ear, praising you for touching him even in such a difficult position.

That familiar twinge in your cunt drew a deep, unwarranted moan out of you. The sound rang throughout the room loudly enough that it distracted you from your pleasure. Were you really about to fuck in this very public haunted house? The door was wide open and while it was very dark, there was nothing stopping anyone from entering. You turned your head and pawed at Satoru's chest pathetically to get his attention.

"What if someone comes in?" you babbled in a fleeting moment of clarity, searching his face for any sign of fear.

Satoru rolled his icy blue eyes affectionately, though his tone was deliciously condescending when he replied,

"Then I guess someone will see me fucking you in the Blue Room. Isn't it ironic that we're doing such an act in the one that's supposed to represent birth?"

After one final curl of his fingers, he retracted them in an instant, leaving you understimulated and clenching around nothing. He nudged you in encouragement to face him, to look upon his lust-clouded eyes and flushed cheeks. You held his gaze, knowing that if you didn’t, you'd be punished, as Satoru guided your mouth open with the fingers he'd just fucked you with. He loved to see you taste yourself, half-devoted to getting you addicted to it. And you, always aiming to please him, licked them clean in earnest.

"Good," he praised, wiping the appendages dry on his pants leg. "Now lay down for me."

You whirled around and let him guide you downward so that your chest was flush against the tabletop and your ass faced the ceiling. You heard the telltale brushing of fabric as he freed himself from his pants and let them bunch around his ankles. He teased his hardened cock against your clit, knowing how much it drove you crazy when you were already so frustrated.

You whined impatiently. "Satoru, please-"

A gasp escaped your lips and interrupted your plea as large hands latched onto either of your hips and jerked you backward suddenly. His chest brushed your back as he leaned over you, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke.

"Quiet, baby," he cooed. "I'd hate for us to get interrupted."

Just the idea of having to stop right now was enough to send you to your wit’s end. You dedicated what was left of your focus to keeping your lips pressed tightly together to trap any sounds that might escape through them. With how wet you were, you could only imagine how unhinged Satoru had become. With the knowledge of what was to come, you gripped the edge of the table with both hands to steady yourself.

The risk of getting caught was imminent, and even if he acted like he didn't care, Gojo wasted no time in sliding into you. You took all of him at once, swallowing hard to keep an instinctive moan at bay. He was struggling too, it seemed, as you heard air expressed sharply through his nose the moment he bottomed out. His pleasure always amplified your own and you felt yourself clench at the sound. It was a sick satisfaction, knowing that he was feeling as good as you did because of you.

He fucked you slow at first, pulling out till only his cockhead remained, and sliding back in at a teasingly hesitant pace. You knew he would have to make it quick, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun with you. Impatient little whines replaced the noisy complaints you normally gave him when he teased you. Gojo loved to make you beg, but the thrill of taking you in such a public setting would fill the need for now.

Satoru settled into a pace that had you melting into the table, especially when two of his fingers found themselves rubbing your clit just as consistently. He knew exactly what to do to get you off, his tempo never stuttering even when his own pleasure clouded any rationality he might've held. You kept your back arched low, following his lead as he pounded into you roughly.

"You feel good, baby?" he asked, his voice a strained whisper.

You nodded quickly, distrusting of your ability to remain quiet. It was always good, even when you didn't get to take your time and work each other up to the breaking point. Despite his unrelenting nature, the way in which he held you was gentle, and he knew how to read your body even better than you did.

It was too much, the length of him, the speed of his fingers on your clit, not being able to express yourself vocally. You felt stunted like you were unable to get the stimulation you needed to achieve your release. Too much, yet not enough, but you told yourself to trust Satoru. He always promised he would take care of you.

"Look at me."

He didn't give you much of a choice. Gojo's hand cupped your chin and guided it backward so that your eyes were staring directly into his. The telltale pink flush on his cheeks was visible through the many layers of white stage makeup. The horribly painted-on clown eyes were smudged around his pale lashes, but the wild lust in his expression was all you cared to notice as you fluttered around him in a way that signaled you were close.

"I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum right next to all these people."

You shoved a hand in your mouth to muffle the involuntary moans as you came. The roiling waves of pleasure rushed over your body as your cunt clenched rhythmically around Satoru's cock. He grinned at you widely as he fucked you through your orgasm, reveling in the way your body went rigid under his own. His own washed over him without much difficulty; a few moments later his lower lip was caught between his teeth as he grunted with the effort it took not to moan himself. His pace picked up rapidly as he gasped.

"Ahh- 'm gonna cum," he said breathlessly.

You relished in the feeling as he emptied himself inside of you, hot and twitching as he painted your walls with his seed. The grip on your hips was near bruising as if the shape of your bones beneath his hands was the only thing tethering him to this earth. You remained in that position, both of you panting as you came down from your high. Even with him still sheathed inside of you, you could feel the astronomical amount of cum pooling there. Just how pent-up had he been?

He slid out of you slowly, the lack of his bodily warmth adding to the heartbreakingly empty feeling as he did so. Before you could even think of moving to get to your feet, Satoru aggressively slid two of his fingers back into you. He didn't like to waste a single drop of his cum, shoving what little had begun to trickle out back inside.

"There," he said retracting them once more, satisfied now that you were properly filled. "'ll help you up."

He smoothed your skirt down over the tops of your thighs and reached for your arms to guide you into a standing position. His hands found your waist as he pulled you into him, nuzzling your hair and breathing deeply. Your head grew fuzzy at the feeling of his cum beginning to seep out of your cunt once again. You let him hold you in a hug that encapsulated both your body and soul.

Satoru drew you away from him, smiling when he glimpsed your face.

"Aw, baby," he said softly. "You're such a mess."

You brought a hand to your face to feel something sticky beneath your eyes, likely mascara that you'd smudged. Your cheeks were already flushed from his incessant fucking, not to mention the sticky warmth trailing down your inner thighs. You could only imagine the state of your lipstick.

"Not my fault," you protested, attempting to smooth out your disheveled hair.

"It is your fault," Gojo corrected, tapping your nose with his index finger. "For wearing that skirt and letting me catch you."

Your face drew up in a pout, to which he grinned devilishly. He pulled you into him once more, peppering kisses all over your face and squeezing you tight. You tried to fight him off in lieu of your already tousled hair, but even your stubbornness was no match for his strength.

His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, "What are our friends going to think?"

Somehow, your face burned hotter at his words. When you finally forced yourself to break away from him, he let you out through one of the emergency exits to find Nanami and Shoko. They looked appalled at your appearance, and you silently cursed Satoru for using you so roughly. They demanded to know what happened, and you couldn't very well tell them the truth.

"I just got really scared," you lied. "They made me cry. Fucking jerks."

Even though he wasn't there, you could hear Gojo's laughter in your ears at such a stupid response.

[gallusrostromegalus]

How old's everyone by the time canon bleach rolls around?

Well that's an interesting question that I have devoted way too much thought to.

Most people in soul society age at the normal pace of one year per year, so they only have One Age, but even a tiny excess of spiritual energy can make some age much slower, and in Seireitei, which is full of Spiritually Potent People, most people have two ages- Calendar and Living Age. Calendar is how many years someone has existed, Living is approximately what developmental age they're at. Most Shinigami age at about one year for every 2-5 Lived, with average "died of natural causes and not in the line of duty" lifespans coming to 200-400 years. Power Level has a HEAVY Inverse correlation to aging, but once you hit the power levels associated with Seated officers and captains, things get Weird. Also fatal. Very few captains have died of Natural Causes.

But re: Everyone's ages in June 2000, when the series starts under the cut:

Karakura Gang:

The Kids are not dead yet, so not Subject to the extended lifepsans yet, but I did age everyone up a bit- Ichigo and his Human Friends are all Juniors in High school- age 17... ish.

Ichigo's 18th birthday occurs a couple weeks after he meets Rukia. He was held back from starting Kindergarten for a year because he was too short to reach the drinking fountains.

Chad was tall and his parents were both working full time so his mom persuaded his school to let him in early, so Chad only had his 17th birthday the month before he meets Rukia.

Kon: CA: 132 (9 years in his body) LA: 3, but in cat years, so really more like 22 in human years. An grad student in charge of a pack of teenagers.

Rukia: A Member of the Karakura Gang by association (i.e. my staging notes), Rukia is CA: 73 and LA: 20. She and Renji entered the academy when they were CA:25 and LA: 16. Like many high-powered shinigami, her rate of aging is slowing as she accumulates power, so she will likely live to see at least 500 (unless something happens)

Renji: See: Rukia. Rukia is eight months older than Renji and NEVER lets him forget it.

Kisuke Urahara: CA: 328 LA: 32.4545454545- Urahara is aging at one year for every 11 lived which pleases him because at least once a century his ages will line up and he'll have a straight shot of numbers and that's CLEARLY an excuse to have a MEGA birthday party and give him extra presents! He'll be 333 AND 33 in 2005, so Ichigo should start planning his surprise party!

Yoruichi Shihoin: CA: 329 LA: 28 Yoruichi is 365 days older than Kisuke (He was born in 1672) a leap year) and NEVER lets him forget it.

Isshin Shiba: CA: UUUH- LA: UUUUUUUH- Isshin Shiba was born to the Shiba Clan in 1846, was 154 when he vanished in 1980, appears to be in his mid-forties now, and can only actually REMEMBER the last 20 years of his life with any Clarity. The battle with White left his soul so damaged that when he fused with Masaki, he lost all his spiritual powers and forgot damn near everything- he remembers his given name, the name and face of Kaien Shiba but not how he knows him, that shinigami and hollows exist... but when he overheard Ryuken Ishida lying to the hospital staff that this was his friend from medical school who had been in a terrible car accident, he believed him, and assumed he WAS a doctor that had been in a terrible accident. Masaki was just as frightened of the Shinigami coming after the Quincy. While she could keep her relatives at bay, she couldn't fool the shinigami, so she asked the others to make sure Isshin never tried to return to spirit world... and they went along with it. As far as Isshin knows, Urahara was a guy he worked for as a teenager who helped him set up shop as a doctor after the accident. Yoruichi really is someone he used to be on the intramural volleyball team with back in college. Shinji is some guy who knew his parents, and decided to stay a friend of the family even after after they died in the accident. He and Masaki were married in a beautiful ceremony some weeks ago... Shame they lost all the pictures... Ichigo's promotion to Substitute Shinigami and the confrontation about "You used to be a CAPTAIN?? Why didn't you warn me and the twins about anything???" is one HELL of a shock for him.

Soul Society:

Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto: CA: 2,146 LA: 75 He was enjoying a Long Prime Middle Age until his Divorce in 1196, at which point he went bald, went gray and lost a significant amount of his muscle mass in under a decade, and has looked like an Old Man since.

Chojiro Sasakibe: CA: 1,358 LA: 66 (debated). Chojiro was barely 100 years old when he turned up at Yamamoto's Post Officer Self-Defense Dojo and refused to leave. His Lived Age is a secret known only to Unohana- the debate rages because Sasakibe was born with his Silver Fox hair, and with that removed, shows very little signs of aging. He insists he "-Just keep myself very well." and refuses to elaborate. He has a standing agreement with the SWA that his LA over various years may be revealed after he dies, so they may let people lay bets, on the condition that they give him a percentage when laid to support his Black Tea Habit.

---

Soi Fon: CA: 201 LA: 29 Soi Fon has genetically terrific skin and if her mother is any indication, she'll look like a twentysomething until she hits menopause. THEN she'll look like a Silver Fox.

Marechiyo Omaeda: CA: 102 LA: 24 Omaeda has only been Lieutenant for 14 years, taking over the position early after his father (the previous 2nd Division lieutenant) had an extremely unexpected stroke. He's recovering well, but doesn't want to return because he's so proud of Marechiyo.

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Ichimaru Gin: CA:DEBATABLE, but at least 357 LA: 21 Gin has several days that *could* count as his "Birthday" but he's existed in his current body for as long as Rangiku has known him.

Rojuro "Rose" Otoribashi: CA: 312 LA: 37 Rose was promoted to captain a bare 2 years ago when TBTP happens, and is considered Young for a captain. In terms of Living Age, he's one of the oldest Visored.

Izuru Kira: CA: 89 LA: 23 He was a bit older than Rukia and Renji in CA and LA when he entered the Academy. He could have entered sooner but he was the sole caregiver for both his parents, who died premature deaths of chronic illnesses.

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Retsu Unohana: CA: 804 LA: "As old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth." According to the official records, Retsu Unohana enrolled in Shin'o Academy in 1198, and when asked her age, said "I became as I am last year" Which the intake officer interpreted to mean that she died and appeared as an adult in Spirit World in 1197, and she has absolutely failed to correct that misconception. Or update the public records regarding her age.

Yachiru Unohana: CA 1,497 LA: 37 To her credit, Unohana DID die when she was 17 and appeared in the afterlife at the age she died at. Then she barely aged by the time Yamamoto recruited her in 998. She served as Kenpachi of the 11th Divisison for 199 years, until her battle with an as-yet-unnamed young man in 1197. Shortly after her 200th year as Kenpachi passed, she came to terms with the fact she was no longer the fighter she was, and fell in battle to her lieutenant. With that, "Yachiru" Unohana died, and the following day she enrolled in the academy under the name Retsu to study medicine.

Isane Koetetsu: CA: 282 LA: 28 Isane and her sister Kiyone are unusual for Shinigami in that the Koetesu clan has some of the slowest-aging shinigami in it, and the slowed aging STARTS as infants. Isane couldn't even enroll in Shin'o Academy until her 100th birthday, and even then she needed special dispensation to let what was functionally a 10-year old take college classes.

Hanataro Yamada: CA: 141 LA: 23 Hanataro is the younger brother of Former 4th div Lieutenant Seinosuke Yamada, who now runs the Seireitei Medical Center i.e. The Rich Bitch Hospital. Hanataro entered the academy at a very young age like Isane and graduated with honors, but people tend to compare him to his more accomplished older brother, which both of them think is Unfair seeing as Seinosuke is a whole 112 years older than him. Hanatarou started in the 4th division at the tender age of 42/14, and some of the other medics decided to prank the lieutenant's baby brother by sending him to do the initial medical checkup of newly-appointed 11th division captain Zaraki. When he failed to return for six hours, Seinosuke went into a panicked rage and ran to the 11th, ready to make Zaraki the shortest-serving captain ever if need be, only to discover Hanataro patiently vaccinating and enthusiastic Zaraki for EVERYTHING, a process that was taking a while because Zaraki's spiritual pressure kept breaking the needles. Hanataro has been the 11th Division Pocket Medic ever since, to the detriment of Seinosuke's blood pressure. Zaraki encouraged his interest in Toxicology by bringing him dozens of venomous snakes to milk while on field expeditions, also much to the detriment of Seinosuke's blood pressure.

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Sosuke Aizen: CA: 432 LA: 47 Aizen was born an identical twin, but was the only brother to inherit any spiritual powers. The boy's mother was caught and killed by an enraged shopkeep stealing food to feed a half-starving Sosuke when they were young children. The boys managed to get jobs in another city working at a candy store, and did so well that the owner left the store to them when he retired. Sosuke's marketing talents and Sosato's culinary skills made "My Brother's Candy" a wild success, and soon they were opening franchise stores, and became popular minor celebrities in their district. Sosuke even married and had children- and grand children, and was an active member of his district government and merchants council, personally opening up several schools and water treatment facilities. Then, shortly after he and Sosato celebrated their 88th birthday, tragedy struck. There was a massive flood that lead to a massive crop failure that lead to a massive disease outbreak, which lead to major political upheaval, which lead to Sosuke and his brother having to flee their home. Unfortunately, Sosato dearly loved his brother, and when the hail of arrows came down on them from the soldiers pursing the civilians, Sosato decided that he was near the end of his life anyway, while Sosuke- still functionally in his 20's- had so much to live for, and put himself between his brother and the onslaught. And so Sosuke Aizen went from Revered Councilor, Celebrated Candymaker, beloved Great-grandfather and Twin to an Exile and the sole survivor of his name. He joined the Shinigami, determined to make the Soul Society a better place where what happened to him would never happen again- only to discover that he was at the mercy of a corrupt and incompetent government, and worse, an apparently uncaring God. Until one night when he had a dream- all the pieces of his study of Kido came together and he realized there WAS a way to fix all this- He just had to become God. With that, Gin slithered away into the night and deep into the far districts, so he could assume a human form and forge an identity Aizen wouldn't question when they met back up again.

Shinji Hirako: CA: 412 LA: 31 Shinji genuinely thought he could get away with impersonating a high schooler to spy on Ichigo- after all, he still looked like he was what, 22? With the right clothes and some recent slang- "Why is there some creepy old guy wearing the school uniform?" Ichigo asks his friends the second he sees Shinji. "He looks like some kind of weird hipster who's trying to relive his youth." Sighs Mizurio. "-Or a really deluded pervert who thinks he can sneak into the locker room." says Tatsuki, cracking her knuckles. "He doesn't look THAT old-" Keigo protests, and there is the briefest glimmer of hope for Shinji's Ego. "-Maybe he's some kind of super-senior who got held back a bunch because he's dumb as a brick." Shinji crumples to the ground, defeated by the direct hits to his insecurities.

Hinamori Momo: CA: 66 LA: 26 Momo has an extreme case of babyface but is secretly ripped under her uniform and well on her way to MILFdom from the waist down. The first time Hiyori sees her in shorts is a psychological and spiritual awakening.

Hiyori Sarugaki: CA: 126 LA: 20 Hiyori is the youngest Living Age and slowest-aging visored. She gets mad about her youthful appearance but also uses it to get children's discounts at theme parks.

---

Byakuya Kuchiki: CA: 181 LA: 26 Byakuya was married quite young, and Widowed soon after. He's still in his prime, and exceptionally hale for a Kuchiki- Despite the exceptional spiritual power of the clan, the centuries of inbreeding have given them severe health issues and very short lifespans for their power. Byakuya's grandfather Ginrei only lived to 486, and his father Sojun died at 200 from Hemophillia. Byakuya is still working up the nerve to tell Rukia that she will likely outlive him by a considerable margin, and the fact that Rukia hasn't got a nibling to spoil was His medical problem, not Hisana's.

---

Sajin Komamura: CA: 712 LA: 22 Komamura is somehow both Older AND Younger than everyone thinks he is, and that's not even getting into the "Wait, is that in human years or wolf years?" Debacle. When Yamamoto met Sajin for the first time in the 1400's he was extremely impressed with the giant warriors skill and courage, and before Sajin had a chance to greet him properly, asked the warrior to join his Academy. "I- I'm really old but I'm actually eight." came the voice of a small boy from behind the helmet and Yamamoto had to go stand with his face pressed into the wall for a minute.

Love Aikawa: CA:345 LA:33 Love Aikawa is one of the few shinigami who came into his spiritual powers so fast that he did NOT have a creer before becoming a Shinigami.

Tetsuzaemon Iba: CA: 154 LA: 30 Testsuzaemon was still a small boy when Komamura was appointed to the third seat of the first division, and got to know his mother Chikane Iba. Chikane worked extremely hard, but held Yamamoto in high regard, and Komamura in similar regard by extension. So now Tetsuzaemon is lieutenant to a man he still secretly thinks of as his "Favorite Babysitter".

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Shunsui Kyoraku: CA: 856 LA: 48 Shunsui was forced to join the academy before his 100th birthday by his noble family because they had not actually planned on actually having a third son survive to adulthood and didn't really know what to do with him. Both Shunsui and Ukitake are old enough to remember when Unohana was still Yachiru, and Shut The Fuck Up about that fact.

Nanao Ise: CA: 141 LA: 28 When she first arrives in Seireitei, Yachiru Kusajishi is LA Eight, and quickly makes friends with Nanao, who is the other little girl close to her age with spiritual powers: "You're my baby sister now, but you'll be my Big sister sooner than later." Yachiru explained. "What do you mean?" Nanao blinked at her. "You're what, Living Age Seven, right?" Yachiru asked, squinting at her. "Yeah, but I'm really Forty-One!" Nanao insisted. It bothered her when people refused to take her seriously because of her age. "Right. I'm like Living Age Eight, so I'm your big sister. But I'm actually Four hundred and six." "…What?" Nanao gaped. "but, but that means you must be aging at…" She frowned, trying to do long division in her head. "-I age about one year for every fifty lived, yeah." "You- oh god." Nanao realized. "You outlive everyone you know." "Not everyone! Ken-chan and I are both aging at the same pace." Yachiru explained, wobbling a bit as she walked the log over the creek. "I guess I'm lucky- there aren't that many of us who age this slow so most of us don't have anybody who's really a 'life-long' companion, and I might be only one with a parent that's got a similar lifespan!" She grinned. "I age at about one for five, so in- ...in less than ten years I'll be older than you." Nanao hummed with concern. "Yep! But until then, you have to do everything your Big Sister says!" Yachiru grinned.

Lisa Yadomaru: CA: 427 LA: 36 Even though they're not REMOTELY related, Lisa bonded very strongly to Nanao when she was Shunsui's lieutenant. This causes some dispute with Yachiru when she returns to Soul Society because according to yachiru, Nanao is her Little Big Sister, owing to the difference in CA, to therefore Lisa is her Big-Big Little Sister, and Lisa thinks she doesn't have to support Yachiru's Candy Habit.

---

Kaname Tousen: Calendar age: 499 LA: 32 After the events of the Winter War, during which Kaname turned 500, Kaname disputes that he is only 350, because he spent the last 150 years under Aizen's Curse and "-You call that living?" Everyone (except Sajin) regularly forgets when Kaname's birthday is because he doesn't celebrate it- it was also his sister Kakiyo's birthday and he hasn't really felt like 'celebrating' since she was murdered, and Ichigo is the first person to REALLY understand his feelings on the matter, his own mother dyind so close to his birthday and how visiting her Memorial wasn't exactly a celebration, but it wasn't exactly mourning either.

Shuuhei Hisagi: CA:119 LA: 27 Renji entered the Academy the year Shuuhei was due to Graduate and still thinks of Shuuhei as his "Senpai". Shuuhei entered the academy the same year Rangiku was due to graduate, and still thinks of her as his "Senpai". Renji once called Rangiku his "Grand-Senpai" She and Shuuhei both beat him with shoes about it.

Kensei Muguruma: CA:469 LA: 29 Kensei supports Kaname's declaration that he's only 350 because finding out Kaname is older than him brings up all the insecurities Kensei developed from being the MUCH younger brother to five sisters, and he can't handle being "The Baby" again.

Mashiro Kuna: CA: 506 LA: 25 It took 47 rounds of Janken with Yachiru for Mashiro to finally be the first to get to three victories and declare herself The Biggest Sister. She also saw Kensei's meltdown about Kaname being older than him and is quietly holding onto the fact she's older than both of them until the moment it will cause her beloved captain the maximum amount of Psychological Damage.

---

Rangiku Matsumoto: CA: 357 LA: 29 Rangiku measures her Calendar Age from the date she appeared in Soul Society at age 14, which is an accepted practice, but sometimes people want to add their years in the living world as well. Rangiku supports Kaname's claim to be 350 because they let HER knock 14 years off her CA for an even more arbitrary reason, and also it means she doesn't have to get him a belated 500th Birthday gift for another 150 years.

Toshiro Hitsugaya: CA: 60 LA: 12 Hitsugaya is FAR AND AWAY the youngest Shinigami to achieve a seated officer's position by any age, and this was 100% done as a political maneuver by Yamamoto. Hitsugaya is no Slouch- he graduated salutatorian of his class and is the youngest person ever to achieve Bankai, but Yamamoto slapped him into the lieutenant's position 20 years ago (Hitsugaya graduated within weeks of Isshin Shiba's Disappearance) SPECIFICALLY to put Rangiku between him and any unscrupulous noble houses looking to forcibly adopt him/marry him to a spare heir/straight-up kidnap Hitsugaya to prop up their failing genetic lines. One of the clans tried it anyway and the resulting smoking crater where the clan compound used to be put the fear of Haineko into everyone and has so far discouraged further attempts.

---

Kenpachi Zaraki: CA: 1,477* LA: 42 Like Gin, Zaraki has several dates that could count as the start of his existence, but when asked how old he was at the first moon-viewing party he went to- "...How d'ya guys measure that?" Zaraki asked, studying Shunsui with his good eye in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. "Uh- well, for most people, it's when you were Born in Soul Society, but if you died and appeared here it's the day you first existed in Soul Society." he explained, feeling like he was missing an important dimension to the question. "Oh! In that case I'm- wait, shit. What day is it today?" "It's November 18th." Unohana smiled. "Ah, fuck! With all the chaos I forgot-!" Zaraki laughed. "Turned 1,377 last Monday." The assembled Shinigami all stared blanky, save for Unohana, who appeared to be trying to not laugh into her cup. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard that correctly..?" Jushiro asked, entirely sure he had. "One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Seven." Zaraki repeated slowly, grin cracking across his face. "-Can't say I've done as good a job lookin' after myself as Sasakibe here though." "I- good heavens! The only person you're younger than is Yamamoto himself!" Aizen exclaimed, eyes wide behind his glasses. Zaraki frowned at that for a moment and then nodded. "...If you say so." Unohana made a small snuffling noise as she tried to not snort sake up her nose laughing. "How old are YOU, Mr. Glasses?" Yachiru asked. "Hm? Oh, I'm 332! And how old are y-" Aizen began to reply before he was interrupted by Yachiru jabbing her finger into the tip of his nose, cackling. "HAH! you're seventy- uh- seventy four years younger than me! You're a little baby man!" She clapped her hands with glee. "Unohana-sama? Are you alright?" Ukitake asked as the chief medic coughed suddenly. "I'm having a great time!" She wheezed, eyes watering from accidentally inhaling her drink.

Yachiru Kusajishi: CA: 506 LA: 10 Yachiru was Very Loved by her parents. Zaraki tells her this. When he found her, he found her in an otherwise abandoned house, with her parents, who had obviously died protecting her from the late-winter cold snap. She was still in her mother and father's arms when he came to investigate her cries. Her parents were wearing kimono that had the bottom third cut off, just above their knees, even though it was the middle of winter. She was wearing a double-layered baby Kimono made of the fabric they had cut off, to make sure she stayed warm. He took her into the nearest village, in hopes someone there could nurse her and tell him what her name was. She was lucky- there was a woman nursing her own daughter who agreed to take on her as well. But the Village elder hung his head in shame- he knew the couple the vagrant described- they lived far up the mountain, and only went by the name "Kusajishi", the name of the district, as was the style of many poor and illiterate farmers. They only came down from their farm once or twice a year to sell the special herbs they grew up there- the elder had seen the woman pregnant, but they had not come down to tell him the girl's name for the village records. So that day, the vagrant became Kenpachi Zaraki, and gave to her the name Yachiru as any parent should name their child, and the name Kusajishi, after the parents that loved her so. She only ever calls her adopted father Ken-chan, and is the only person who is allowed to call him that, because a parent should be called something special by their child. In deference to her parent's sacrifice, she does not call him "father". That was another man, who died for her. Zaraki does not lie to Yachiru, ever. Everything he told her about how they met is true. He has omitted one detail from the story, however. Her parents died from the cold snap because they had to be at least eighty, and not blessed with spiritual power like her. She had outlived her parents as an infant. And after speaking to the village elder about how, to his shame, he'd never managed to ask the little girl's name, even since he was a little boy, and failed to send anyone up there to check on the family, The vagrant with no name sat near the fire in the village hall, holding the little girl with no name. He thought about how terribly lonely it was, to not have a name. and how lucky he was that he had a mother who also had an extremely long lifespan that was able to live through raising him, and that he could still visit and speak to. and how unlucky this little girl was, that she did not. "How d'ya get a name?" the vagrant asked the village elder. "Well, here you just tell me what your name is, and I write it down in the village records." the elder said, watching him with curiosity. "...if I tell you a name, will you show me how to write it?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Of course." The elder nodded. The vagrant was silent for a while. "Then her name is Yachiru Kusajishi." Said the vagrant. "...And yours?" The elder asked, picking up the record book and inkstone. "Mine?" the vagrant asked. "You're giving her a name because she hasn't got anyone else to do it, aren't you?" The elder asked, gaze steady. "If you name something, it's your responsibility forever, and you're going to have to be responsible for yourself if you're going to be responsible for her." The Vagrant considered this for a while. "My name-" he started and stopped, throat clicking like he was literally choking on the words. "-My name for her is Kenpachi Zaraki."

---

Mayuri Kurotsuichi: CA: 132 LA: 267 Mayuri is the only shinigami aging faster than the expected rate. This is because he escaped from Hell, and Hell would very much like to get his ass back there ASAP.

Nemuri Kurotsuichi: CA: 20 LA: 20 Nemu has been twenty for twenty years now, ever since she was pulled from the goo of her incubation tube by her father Mayuri, and will be 20 for the foreseeable future. The static lack of aging is something Mayuri hopes to fix in future drafts- Nemu is the seventh Nemuri, and the most successful one so far- She's the second Nemuri to actually make it out of her incubation tube, and the first to survive more than a year, but Nemuri Hachigo is already developing in the basement of the 12th in case something happens to her. The knowledge of her 'Little Sister' is something that brings Nemu comfort, like already knowing what you're going to be reincarnated as. "That's really fucked up." Says Uryuu Ishida in the rubble of Las Noches as she puts his intestines back inside his thorax where they belong. He's on a lot of drugs he'd like to know less about. "-It's also kind of cute. In a away. but really fucked up."

Kirio Hikifune: CA: 617 LA: 35 Kirio is one of a handful of people in on Unohana's double identity, but would NEVER betray her beloved Senpai's personal information! She served under Unohana in the fourth and developed her flesh-to-food technique with Unohana's help.

Tama Nikuya: CA: 1,477 LA: 26 Despite being the same age as Zaraki and Unohana and was aging at the same slow rate, the process that turned her into a Puca also caused her to go into bio-hell-fuckery that has effectively stopped her from aging at all. Or rather, she IS aging but every time she dies, she reappears as the LA age she was when she underwent The Flesh Change. She says the process is not infinite- she WILL eventually run out of spare lives, and if she manages to live long enough to die of old age in this body, she will NOT respawn at all. Also- it HURTS! She does die, which hurts, and comes back, which hurts EVEN MORE, and each time she comes back, she's confronted with the prospect of either outling all her friends or putting them through a similar hell to stay together. All in all, DO NOT ATTEMPT. I am speaking to you specifically, Kisuke. Akon Akon: CA: 119 LA: 27 Akon only has the one name but the archives don't like that so he uses it Twice. He was imprisoned without trial in the Maggot's nest for being part Yokai when he was a small child, and sprung to work in R&D By Mayuri shortly after Urahara's disappearence. He's friends with Yachiru and Nanao because there weren't hat many kids in the social circles of the Gotei-13's upper ranks, and all three of them shared a mutual interest in the Dinosaurs that were being discovered at the time. He's friends with Shuuhei because he was forced to take Remedial "if you work in the 12th instead of just R&D you need to actually know how to be a shinigami" classes the same year Shuuhei was accepted to the academy and they were dorm mates. Akon intermittendly draws weird one-panel cartoons for the Seireitei bulletin under a pen name, often about strange scientific jokes and on one notable occasion, bovine anthropological artifacts.

---

Jushiro Ukitake: CA: 857 LA: 44 Ukitake is genuinely unsure if, when or HOW he will die, given that he is host to a Divine Being. Once that particular cat is out of the bag, it gives him something to commiserate about with Tama. Already, Shunsui is starting to outpace his age- is he doomed to bury his friend? or will circumstance force Mimihagi to consume him entirely? Mimihagi is sympathetic- the Left Hand of God is also not sure what this fusion entails for him- it's possible that if Jushiro dies by any other means besides Mimihagi consuming him, that Mimihagi will die with him, and neither is sure what kind of impact that might have on the universe at large. Still, if it weren't for Mimihagi's intervention, Jushiro wouldn't have this time at all, and Mimihagi will never have had these experiences, so neither regrets the choice they made, regardless of how it ends.

Hachigen Ushoda: CA: 278 LA: 32. Hachigen is appearing under the 13th Division because the Kido Corps got absorbed into the 13th while he was away. Hachi consistently fools people into thinking he's way older than he actually is because he has to tailor-make all his clothes for his massive frame, so why NOT go all the way and make something Special for all this effort?

...this post is already three miles long, I'll do the Arrancar and Quincy next.

[darlingshane]

Secret Ingredient / Part II

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up for Michael. He has great hopes of making this work, and all he wants is to spend the rest of his life with you and Rhys. While you're still apprehensive about certain aspects of your relationship, there's nothing you'd love more than to figure it all out with him.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, vaginal sex, shower sex, fluff, friends to lovers, complicated relationships, some angst.

Word Count: 2.4k

— Links: First Part // AO3.

A/N: Richie makes a guest appearance to question all of Michael's choices.

Six months later…

There’s nothing that hypes Michael more right now than going home after closing The Beef. Getting to hang out with you and squeeze some time with your baby when he’s awake has become the highlight of his day that he looks forward to every single night.

He still brings you food, or cooks you something when he gets home. Even if you don’t live together yet, the spark is there and has grown far brighter than he could ever imagine since you started dating, and he has no doubt it’ll happen at some point

His life was drastically changed that moment he stumbled onto you in the hallway when you moved into his building with Rhys in tow.

He didn’t know that day that you were exactly what he needed. It took him away from that familiar path that it was leading him to dangerous places and guided him toward a nice clearing instead.

Though he still struggles with a lot of shit about the business, he’s gained some leeway, and has learned there’s a better way of handling those issues. He’s also come to accept that if he wants to be in your life, he needs to follow through with his decisions. In both– business and life. Even if that means asking for help, which it doesn’t come naturally for him.

You are the biggest inspiration and supporter he has right now. He’s taken suggestions directly from you to improve the shop, like giving customers pre-order options, and offering delivery. It’s a work in progress, but he has hope it’ll work out.

Besides all that, watching you raise Rhys on your own in the past six months gave him the most courage to take that leap forward. Even if it was fucking scary. Even if there are still a few old demons he has to fight every night before closing his eyes.

It all has put him in a better mood too. People have noticed. He’s also gotten rid of a few bad habits and taken up jogging in the morning, before the city wakes up. Sometimes he takes Rhys with him. Usually in his stroller but sometimes the baby would refuse to let go of his arms and would have to use a carrier and trade his jog for a walk. He’s shown him all his favorite places around the city, the same places he’s taken you to as well. They sit at the dog park and look at the dogs play cause Rhys is completely taken away with them. It’s the first thing he’s shown a real interest in, besides mom of course. The baby would spread his arms and try calling to them with his cute unintelligible babble.

He had never seen himself as a dad until now. It was never on his plans. Figure his family was fucked enough that there was no need to bring more Berzattos into the world. But getting to know Rhys, care for him, watching grown and love him as much as he loves you has made him consider that maybe there’s still hope yet. He just has to make sure of not repeating all those same mistakes that haunt his past.

While everyone cleans up their station, Michael sits at his desk and goes over today's numbers before going home. For a change, they're not as bad as a year ago, which is something to take into account. Perhaps in a couple of months he’d be able to hire a couple of new guys to run deliveries. He keeps that pinned for when the right time comes.

Once he's done in the office, he wishes everyone goodnight as they part home.

When the lights are off and doors locked, he heads out last with Richie by his side, who needs a ride home.

Cousin lights up a cigarette before getting into the car while Michael unlocks the doors and slides into the driver's seat. On the passenger side, on the floor mat, rests a bag of groceries and a pack of diapers he left there earlier that he now moves to the backseat to make room for Richie.

“Mama's got you running errands like an asshole again,” Richie taunts, settling on his seat as Michael starts the engine.

“She ain't. I offered.” He scoffs. “What is it to you? Why are you so concerned about what I do?”

“I’m just looking out for you, Cousin.”

“How? How are you looking out for me? All you’ve done is question and ridicule everything I do since I told you about her.”

“Because she’s using you. She has no baby daddy, and she’s just latched onto the first schmuck she met cause raising a baby is expensive.”

Michael shakes that frustration with a sharp tilt of his head as he veers the car out of the lot.

It’s not the first time he’s said something like that, but it’s starting to rub him the wrong way to see Richie thinking he knows better than him.

“What? You think she’s after my money now?” he can’t help but scoff. “She probably has more saved than you and me put together. Why are you being a fucking dick about it?”

“I don’t know… I just can’t wrap my head around you settling down and raising someone else’s baby. Now look at you, you don’t smoke, you don't drink, you don’t wanna hang out… it’s like you’re a totally different person.”

“Well, maybe that’s not a bad thing. It's called growing up. You should look it up, Cousin.”

“If she’s so important to you why haven’t you introduced her to the rest of the family, huh? Are you embarrassed of us or something? The only times you’ve brought her to the shop is when I wasn’t there. She’s met Tina, and Ebra and Gary… are the rest of us not worthy of her presence?”

“It’s not like that. We’re still trying to figure out how to do this. You’ll meet her when the time is right. And this is the last time we're having this conversation. I’m tired of you busting my balls every chance you get. I know what I’m doing.”

He ends that conversation hoping that his friend won’t bring that up again. As much as Richie has tried to convince him otherwise, there’s no doubt in Michael's heart that this is what he wants– just to be a part of your life.

After placing the bags on the counter, he goes around the apartment to find Rhys already sleeping in his crib. He has to fight the urge to pick him up and cuddle him, but he’d probably get to that in a couple of hours when he stirs awake in the middle of the night. So he just dips his head to print a gentle kiss on his forehead.

You’re taking a shower and when he sees the silhouette of your bare body behind the frosted glass he can't fight the need of having you in his hands.

He announces himself with a knock and watches your head poke out from the side of the sliding glass as he starts taking off his clothes.

“Hey, bear,” your face beams, beautifully covered on water beads.

“Hey, mind if I join you?”

“I’m almost done but come in if you want.”

He rushes out of his jeans and underwear, leaving his pile of clothes to pool by the sink to set his feet in the shower. From behind, he slides his palms along your sides to hug your torso as he prints a string of kisses along your neck and shoulders while you finish rinsing your body.

“How was your day, mama bear?”

“Good, they green-lit my project. We're starting next week.”

“That's my girl. You're gonna do great. We should do something to celebrate.”

“Aww, thank you.” Glancing over your shoulder, you tuck your arm back to caress his nape. “How's yours?”

“Same old, same old.”

“You always said that.”

“No. It was okay. It's just not as good as I'm with you.”

“Hm,” your lips curve up as they capture a soft kiss from his silver tongue.

“Say, you think we have time for a celebration quickie before the little bear wakes up?”

“He went down five minutes ago so we probably have like ten minutes tops.”

“That's more than enough for me,” his wandering hand travels down your abdomen toward your mound. “Do you wanna?”

Licking your lips, you nod your head as you wave your ass back against his dick that quickly jumps awake at the friction. It doesn't take you long to feel him swell to perfection. Same in your end. It took you a few months to get comfortable having sex with him but once you started you couldn't ever have enough of him. Feeling utterly wanted by Michael arouses you more than his fingers rounding your clit that makes your walls melt.

Once you're ready, you brace your hands on the tiled wall, bending slightly so he can properly slip into you from behind. The warm shower spray pours nicely on your back as Michael slips inside you. His hardness throbs against your walks when he’s fully sheathed inside. As he leans forwards to mouth at your neck, he blocks the spray of water. Your skin buzzes when his teeth scrape the surface of your skin as his hips start gaining some speed.

Your breath hitches, as he pounds your ass with dedicated passion. You move with him as the temperature rises, letting one of his hands tenderly massage your breasts as the other handles your clit as rough as his hips slam against you.

“You like it like that, sweetheart?” He sucks your earlobe between his lips.

“Fuck yeah.”

It’s quick, and hot, and utterly satisfying to end the day with him pushing inside you until you both come undone.

Allowing Michael to weave into your life so seamlessly fast wasn’t a decision you took lightly. Having a new little person to care for and at the same time figure out your feelings for Michael was quite challenging, to say the least. Scary comes to mind too if you really think about it. It took you a few months to warm up to the idea, but ultimately it was Michael’s unwavering attitude that put you more at ease. He was there from the get-go. He’s helped you in ways no one ever did. You never had to ask, he’d always show up, day after day. Seeing him caring for Rhys just as much really warmed you up to the idea that there might be some good guys yet. And though you’re aware he’s not perfect, he has one of the biggest hearts you’ve ever come across. He makes you feel loved and supported, always finds new ways to make you laugh but more importantly he’s won his place in your baby’s heart as well. Rhys adores him as much as you do. Sometimes it feels like even more. His little face lights up brightly when he sees Michael more than anyone. So, in a way it was watching them bond the thing that made you welcome him deeper into your life.

There are still a few things you have some reservations about, like moving in together. Though he’s been spending more and more time at your place in the past few weeks, and has been proven to be a good partner, making it official still makes you a little wary.

It doesn’t stop him from trying… Every other week, he’d suggest that maybe it is time to take the next step. It scares you how willing he is to do that, and it worries you that he might have not mulled it over enough. There are a lot of things that could potentially go wrong, and if it was just you, you’d jump right in, eyes closed. The key here is Rhys. Your son already has a deadbeat dad who went as far as signing away his parental rights. You don’t ever wanna give anyone the chance to break your baby’s heart like that ever again. No matter how much Michael loves the both of you, you need to be sure that if anything happens between you two, this is not going to affect Rhys.

Perhaps it’s the fact that you're in a good mood today or the way he’s holding the baby in his chest with both making eyes at you that you can’t resist but give in a little after dinner.

“What was that Rye Bread?” He says after the baby makes an undistinguishable noise behind his pacifier. “Oh, he says he’s taken a vote and that I should move in.”

“He didn’t say that,” you scoff, shaking your head. “He probably said– it’s time for a diaper change, and it should be you the one to deal with it for being so damn annoying.”

“Those are a lot of words for a none-talking baby.” You both laugh. “C’mon, I know you want to, sweetheart.” He changes voices to a funny pitch tone pretending it is Rhys talking then. “Yeah, mommy. Let Mikey move in. I need a buddy to play games and watch TV. Please?”

You can swear you’ve never met anyone crazier than Michael. Anyone in their right mind would take heed of a situation like this or just downright bolt in the other direction.

“Look, I have a lot of faults, but I promise if for some reason this doesn’t work, I’d never stop caring about this little guy here. I know that’s something that you’re really worried about.”

“Would you be willing to put that in writing? Officially?”

“Anytime. Where do I have to sign?”

“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, amused.

“Pretty crazy about you.” he smiles with his whole face. “This is the last time I’ll ask. What do you say? Do you want me to move in?”

“Okay.”

It feels easy to say and hard to admit that deep down–

This is what you always wanted.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; lucifer morningstar

requested by ; mod / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; lucifer morningstar

outline ; “dating headcanons for lucifer”

note ; this may be a touch out of character as i’ve never written for him before, but hopefully you’re all able to enjoy this piece either way ^^

warning(s) ; brief mentions to canon angst and one mildly suggestive bit, but mostly fluff!

after having a several thousand year long marriage fall apart on him and experiencing a strained relationship with his only child for a good number of years after that, it’s only natural that lucifer would struggle with letting himself fall in love and move on — both because he doesn’t want to risk pushing charlie away and because, well, despite being the prince of pride he has a lot of issues relating to his past and he’s worried about messing things up and losing someone else he loves

that’s not to say that courting the king of hell is impossible, far from it in fact, but that you just need to be patient with him — let him move at his own pace, he’s been out of the dating game for a while after all (if you could ever even consider him as being ‘in it’ at all given the unique circumstances under which he met his first wife)

despite being the embodiment of ‘pride’, he does deal with a great deal of insecurity and anxiety — about everything from his parenting to his creations to his relationship with you and even far beyond that — so any kind of verbal reassurance or praise will go a long way with him and will always be received with a great deal of warmth and gratitude

whisper about how much you love him as you hold him in your arms late in the evenings or early in the mornings, when you’re laying in bed and half asleep — making sure that you’re starting and ending each day on a positive, private, warm note no matter what happens between the ‘now’ and ‘then’

gush about his latest invention as you visit him in his workshop, commenting excitedly at each new feature and animatedly gesturing towards his whole collection of creations with nothing but genuine enthusiasm and awe written across your features — make sure he knows that his craftsmanship and efforts will never go unnoticed or unappreciated by you so long as he wants you by his side

encourage him to take those leaps of faith that he’d otherwise be too jaded or anxious to take on his own: hold his hand and help him find the strength to call up his daughter just to chat and give them their privacy once he’s back in his element and fully engaged with the conversation, give him a pep-talk before his latest meeting with heaven and their new emissary and promise that you’re only a text or call away if it gets too much for him (he’s never taken up your offer, but the promise always helps to calm his nerves), and just be there to push him forwards as his partner and be there to catch him if things don’t go his way

praise him for all of the features you love until his face is tinged a beautiful shade of red, his wings are all fluffed up, and he’s too flustered to even look you in the eye — compliment the angelic and the demonic, the human and inhuman, make sure there’s no doubt left in his mind that you’re completely and utterly infatuated with him in body, mind, and soul

oh and make no mistake this gentleman gives as good as he gets and he could easily spend days at a time talking about every little thing about you that he adores, every minor habit or quirk that most people wouldn’t even notice that makes his whole day that much brighter — there’s no room for any self doubt or self hatred when you’re in a relationship with this fallen angel because he loves you so deeply, so wholly, that you’ll inevitably start to love yourself that bit more through him

it’s extremely important to him that you get to know charlie and that she approves of your relationship — his daughter is his world, his everything, and as much as he adores you, he will not risk pushing her away again for any reason (as much as it would kill him inside to have to walk away from you)

that being said, charlie will inevitably end up really liking you and making an effort to get to know this person who her dad talks about all the time, making it abundantly clear that she approves of you and would be happy to have you in her life as her dad’s partner — and maybe another parental figure in her life depending on how things go, how your relationship with her evolves, and whether you prefer to be her ‘step parent’ or just her friend who happens to be dating her dad (she doesn’t mind either way, she just wants him to be happy)

between his angelic powers, extreme wealth, and prominent status in hell, lucifer is more than capable of spoiling you completely rotten — like as long as you’re with him, you’ll never want or need for anything as long as it’s within his abilities to get for you (whether that’s something more traditional like jewellery, clothes, books, or food, or something more niche and related to something you’re interested in, like a tool to help you engage in a hobby or a specific item you’ve been looking for to add to your collection)

he’s also not above just outright making you things as gifts — of course there are his ducks which he’s more than happy to share with you, but he’s also a pretty good cook and will make you breakfast in bed as a treat or as a way to cheer you up if you’ve been having a rough time

on a related note, this man goes all out for your anniversaries and on your birthday — he just… really loves being able to take care of you, that’s all

and despite all of that he still keeps each and every gift and card you give him — has a whole drawer dedicated to your letters and your gifts are scattered around the palace, with particularly sentimental items being kept in his bedroom and workshop

there are two pictures that he keeps on him at all times: one of him and charlie taken shortly after he helped rebuild the hotel and settled into his personal room there, and another of the two of you taken on your first anniversary of a couple — he regularly takes them out to help keep him motivated throughout the day, especially if his day has been rather draining for one reason or another

he’s extremely physically affectionate and gives the most amazing hugs — he uses his arms and his wings to hold you close and keep you warm and when you’re laying down it’s extremely easy for you to just fall asleep in his arms if you don’t make a conscious effort to stay awake and in the moment with him

his kisses can go a couple of different ways depending on his mood and the setting you’re in:

he can be gentlemanly and chaste if you’re in a formal setting or otherwise somewhere that requires him to uphold a certain image — limiting himself to brief pecks on the back of your hand, your cheeks, or your knuckles if he’s feeling especially bold (doing enough to show that you’re his partner but not enough that his ‘kingly’ persona is threatened)

he can also be very sweet and playful if you’re at home or around close friends and family — peppering kisses along your neck and jawline, kissing your lips and cheeks whilst brushing his fingers along your ticklish spots, nuzzling his ‘nose’ against yours before kissing you, etc. (showing affection in ways that are enough to make you laugh and lean into him, but not enough that he’d be making your loved ones uncomfortable by being a bit too intimate)

last but not least, he can also be passionate and intense when the two of you are alone and he’s practically aching to feel your lips on his — wet, open mouthed kisses against your lips, trailing slow kisses from the inside of your wrists up your arm whilst looking you in the eye, trailing his lips down your throat and alternating between kissing and playfully biting at your skin (nipping and marking at your pulse point every time without fail), trailing his mouth lower and lower until you’re so frustrated all you can do is pull him up by his collar and crash your lips against his own (making sure that you know that you’re desired as well as loved whilst also being a bit playful about getting what he wants from you)

he always makes sure that he’s able to spend some quality time with you each day beyond just your sleeping hours — whether that means planning a proper date, meeting up for lunch between meetings, or stopping by wherever you are at the time via teleportation just to check in and make sure everything’s okay

lucifer has a wide variety of pet names that he uses with you — this includes the classics like ‘sweetheart’, ‘angel’, and ‘love’, as well as some more personalised ones like ‘duckie’, and more humorous ones that he comes up with on the spot to make you laugh and smile — and he loves any nickname that you ascribe to him no matter how ridiculous other people may find them

more than happy to show you off to all of hell as his beloved partner and their future monarch that will be reigning by his side one day — he’s more than capable of defending you from any threats himself and the palace is well protected so he has absolutely no reservations about making it known to every demon and sinner that you belong to him, and that he belongs to you

[bl-bracket]

Finals: Pat and Pran First Kiss (Bad Buddy) vs Kinn and Porsche Goodbye Kiss (Kinnporsche: The Series)

[Submitted Reasons Under Cut]

Pat and Pran First Kiss: "There aren’t enough words to describe the way I felt the first time I watched this kiss happen. The buildup is immense, Pat is jealous but he doesn’t understand his feelings, Pran has been in love for so long he doesn’t want to even think there’s a chance. Pat talks about how damn lonely he was without Pran. He recontextualizes their whole relationship, yes they were enemies but they were also the only two people who understood eachother. And with that they’re not quite enemies, at least not anymore. And if they’re not enemies do you think they could be friends? When Pran asks, “Do you want us to be friends.” The hesitation before Pat just says no. It holds the weight of the world. And of course Pat is the one to lean in and cross that barrier, Pran is still petrified of his own feelings after years of beating them into submission. But once Pat has taken that leap and crossed that line you can see Pran say ‘fuck it’ and just go for it. If this is the only time he ever gets to kiss Pat then godammit he is going to make it worth it. Hands in each other’s hair like they couldn’t get closer to one another if they tried, desperation spills out of every corner of their kiss. And when then break apart, Pran is beyond devastated, he knows they could never be together, that this kiss might have been his one and only taste of something he has longed for, and he leaves Pat standing there for him to slowly come to the same bitter realisation as his face shifts from lovestruck to heartbroken. Ohm and Nanon raised the standard for every other kiss in any future bl. Not to mention the kiss happened when Pat was wearing a shirt that says ‘baseball mom.’ There is no other kiss that could be more deserving of this win"

Kinn and Porsche Goodbye Kiss: "it's about the EMOTION it's about the ANGST it's about finally having a glimpse at the freedom they've both dreamed of for so long and the pain of knowing that they will never have it but that in each other they can find a taste of that freedom and the pain and sacrifice that that entails. it's about the goodbye it's about the kinn kicking the ground and crying because he is willingly giving up the one good thing in his life to protect it it's about porsche being willing to cut off a hand for him for this man who put him through so much shit but that he LOVES because he has seen the true kinn, the real kinn, and the NEED to turn back and acknowledge that and that what they had in the woods was real and that kinn is worthy of his love. it's about the way that kinn staggers when porsche crashes his mouth into his it's about the arms wrapped around each other it's about the desperation to be as close as possible meaning that they hardly even move it's about the layers and layers of emotion folded into it it's about how porsche has to pull away and run so he won't turn back and so that he can give kinn what he wants (the knowledge that at least one of them will be free). it's about the fact that he does turn back. it's about them always coming back to each other. it's THEIR FIRST KISS IN LOVE OKAY IT'S EVERYTHING TO ME"

[watchmegetobsessed]

BULLETPROOF

A/N: *screams in excitement* its here!!! its finally here!!! im so happy i finally got to finish a longer fic without hitting rockbottom with it. this one was very easy to write, i think i was heavily inspired by the night agent series on netflix lol now im very excited for yall to read it!!

WORD COUNT: 12.5k

WARNING: gun use, getting shot, blood, stalking, bullying

SUMMARY: Being Eroda's first daughter is not all sunshine and rainbows. It's tough out there when people are so fast to judge you and turn their back on you. But there is one person who's been there for you all along. Your bodyguard, Harry.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The wine is nice. The salad is tragic, probably the worst you’ve ever had. You wonder how dessert will turn out to be, could be good or poisonous at this point.

The company?

Well, at least he is not staring at your breasts.

Going out with Jaiden sounded a lot more fun when he asked you out in the library, but now that you’ve been listening to him speak for the past thirty-two minutes, you’re counting it, he appears to be just another douche who wants to brag about you at the next frat party. He probably thinks he is doing well and he might get lucky once you leave the restaurant, but there are two reasons why that won’t happen.

One, you spotted some tomato sauce on his left hand before he left to the restroom and when he came back it was still there, he did not wash his hands and then touched the garlic bread. You’ve pushed the basket out of your view discreetly after that. It’s already a very strong point, but the second one is the real deal.

There is absolutely no way the three agents, one by the door, one by the window and one at two tables from you would be okay with assisting to your hookup. Well, it’s not that they would have a choice, if you think of it. But think about it: even if he weren’t a pig, this is how it would go.

Arriving to Jaiden’s building you would be told to wait outside with Morrison, while Jackson and Styles go up and check out Jaiden’s place. Then they would come down to get you. If the mood weren’t dead by this point, you’d have to go up and start the action with one agent down in front of the building, one by the front door and then the worst, you just know Styles would stand by the bedroom door like a statue, listening closely to everything happening inside.

Then when it would be over you’d have to leave with the three men around you and return to your place. Madness. Pure comedy.

“What do you think?”

Jaiden’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts about the ridiculous daydream of tonight and you realize you have no idea what he’s been talking about in the last seven minutes.

“Um, sorry?” you clear your throat, reaching for the wine.

“I was asking you about how…”

You look over his shoulder and spot Styles through the glass door, zoning out of the conversation in record time.

He is wearing civil clothes, all three of the agents are, that was the deal when you’re out somewhere, with friends or on a date which happen once in a leap year, to be honest. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a black bomber jacket over, simple, dark jeans and trainers. You wonder if this is actually his style, if this is how he dresses when he is not on duty, when he is running errands or meeting up with his friends for drinks. You only see him when he is responsible for protecting you at all cost, he’s been head of your security team for the past two years and it’s been a rollercoaster of a ride.

He was a real pain in the ass at the beginning, he would jump at every possible noise, he dragged you out of class once because someone’s pen clicked louder than the usual. Fuck, you lost count of the times you screamed at him, asking what was his problem, if he lost his mind and every time he just stood there, like a fucking rock and then just nodded at the end and carried on with his nonsense.

It took some time and lots of communication to find balance. You realized he would never listen to you when you’re screaming from the top of your lungs and you had to accept that he is just doing his job. So you sat down with him and your father, the president of Eroda to talk about boundaries.

Things have been better since then and the two of you actually work well together. Most of the times.

He was next to you at every major event, ups and downs, he drove you home after you confronted your last serious boyfriend about how he cheated on you with three different girls, you sobbed like a baby and couldn’t even open the lock on your front door. He took the keys gently from your hand and did it for you. When you woke up in the morning the fridge was stocked with your favorites. You never asked, but you know he did it.

He has attended concerts and parties with you, shadowing you even when you had to get tampons in the middle of the night. You bet he knows what brand and size you use too at this point. As much as he’d gotten on your nerves millions of times… you like the guy. He is straight forward, always speaks his mind if asked, he sees things in a very rational way. He’s ambitious and hard-working and most of all, trustworthy.

He might actually be your best friend.

How tragic, you consider your head of security to be your best friend! This must be the end here…

“You’re really not listening, are you?” Jaiden laughs, but it’s dry, he looks pissed when you look back at him.

“Sorry, it’s been… a long week. And honestly, I kind of lost interest when you started talking about football, since I know nothing about it.”

“Wow, okay, so what were you expecting? Brainstorming about possible ways to stop the climate change?” he scoffs and you actually think about just standing up and leaving.

“No, but on a date you usually talk about things you both like. I guess we have nothing in common, then. So why don’t we—“

“You really know how to make people feel stupid.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shoot up, this is getting interesting.

“Just because daddy runs the country, doesn’t mean you’re above us all. Don’t have to be such a snob.”

“Oh, it wasn’t even me being a snob,” you retort with a forced smile as you grab your bag from the table and from the corner of your eyes you already see the agents moving. “It’s been a lovely evening, but I think we’re better as… I would say friends, but it wouldn’t be true. Bye, Jaiden.”

You stand and plan to march past him to meet Morrison and Jackson to head out, but Jaiden is not done, it seems. He jumps to his feet and his hand grabs your upper arm, pulling you back. He barely just opens his mouth when Hell breaks loose.

Morrison is first to get his hands on him, yanking him away from you while Jackson tears his hand off you, then it gets twisted behind him and Styles arrives, smacking your date up against the wall.

The whole restaurant is staring at you and you just want the ground to open beneath you.

You stop at your front door out of instinct, already knowing they have to sweep through the place before you could enter. Styles stands beside you and waits for Morrison and Jackson to return. When it’s confirmed you walk in, a blank look on your face.

“Have a nice night, guys. Thank you for tonight,” you tell them in a robotic voice. Morrison and Jackson says good night and you hear the door closing, but you know you’re not alone.

Styles stands by the door and you can feel him watching your every move as you put your heels away and take your earrings out.

“Are you gonna give me a lecture about choosing guys more wisely?” you ask, finally facing him. He’s standing with his hands clasped together at the front, his usual pose, but it’s a bit odd without his usual suit.

“No,” he answers shortly and you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind. “Just wanted to ask if you’re alright.”

“My arm is fine, you don’t ha—“

“I wasn’t asking about your arm.”

You stare back at him in silence, everything just dawns on you all at once and your chest feels like burning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, but then a tear rolls down your face.

You see the change in him instantly. His eyes soften as he walks over to you, his gaze frantically searching your face, probably trying to figure out what to do. They don’t tell agents how to deal with young, crying women who feel like they are going to die alone.

“I’m fine, really,” you say again and he pulls out a tissue from his pocket, handing it over to you.

“He was a douche. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“How many disastrous dates have I been on in the past year?” you ask with a shaking voice. He doesn’t answer, just clenches his jaw. “You know damn well that it was my eleventh. You were there at all of them. I can’t help but start to think that something must be wrong with me and not with them.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. They were… weird guys. They were the problem, not you.”

“So then it’s just my taste that’s trash, right?” you let out a bitter laugh, hoping that making fun of yourself would help, but it doesn’t. It never does.

“Finding the right person is hard. You have to give it time.”

“I’m impatient, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have. The first day I met you.”

There it is.

That teeny tiny smile that barely just curls up the corners of his mouth but it drives you insane. Because it’s so rare, it’s so intimate and every time you see it the urge to kiss it gets harder and harder.

Yes, it’s such a cliché, but you do have a crush on your bodyguard. You fought it, you really did, but one day you had to realize there’s nothing you can do about it. Now you’re just trying to live with it but moments like this make it really hard not to overstep certain boundaries. For one, you really shouldn’t have feelings for someone whose job is to protect your life at all cost. Your father would have a heart attack if he found out you’re hooking up with an agent. And two… he might be nice to you, a real friend, but you feel like there’s no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Hell, sometimes, on your worse days you even question his friendship. What if it’s all just the job for him? To take care of your fragile little soul?

You’re awfully lonely.

“Get some rest, you have an 8 am class in the morning.”

He steps back and the smile is gone just like that.

“Yes sir!” you salute him, to which you just get a bored look before he takes one last look around and walks out to check in with the night shift agents outside your door.

You’d rather spend this Saturday evening locked up in your bedroom, watching Criminal Minds and eating popcorn, but tonight is one of those occasions where you have to make an official appearance as the president’s daughter.

You’ve definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed, nothing went as you planned so far and you even had a fight with Styles because he ended your morning run earlier when a group of obnoxious fratboys appeared on the football field next to the running track and they accidentally threw a ball in your way.

You have not talked to him since, haven’t even seen him, but you know for a fact he will be coming with you tonight. He is there at every official event, never missing one.

There’s a soft knock on the front door just when you’ve finished getting dressed. You shuffle over to the door and opening you find yourself facing Styles in his usual suit, a change from the workout clothes he wore in the morning.

Fuck, you want to act grumpy still, but he looks especially good with slightly more tamed than usually and he is freshly shaven.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Not yet. Come and help me, please,” you say as you turn around, but you notice he is not following you. “Come on, I won’t bite your head off.”

With a tiny frown he finally moves and follows you into your bedroom where you grab the diamond necklace you want to wear tonight.

“Can you put it on, please?”

He takes the necklace, holding it so gently, you have never seen him handle something with so much care.

Maybe only you.

You turn around and hold your hair up as he reaches around your neck and you bit back a moan when his fingers brush against your collarbone. He fidgets with the clasp for a few moments before taking a step back once it’s done.

“Do you think I can make an early Irish exit tonight?” you ask, stepping into your heels and he offers you a hand that you gladly take to help the process. Once you’re done you head out, Styles following you right behind.

“Don’t think the president would appreciate it.”

“Oh, I know him well, I think I can have a pass from him.”

It’s another event where you feel absolutely useless, you’re just there so your father could show off.

“…And this is my daughter, Y/N. She is studying law!... She is top of her class, yes… Isn’t she a lovely young woman?...”

The smile on your face starts to hurt when you decide to take a break from all the guests that you know nothing about but they all seem to be very familiar with you.

“I’m gonna go out for a bit,” you tell Styles who’s been your shadow all night, three other agents watching your every step as well from different points of the room.

“Let me che—“

“I think there’s no danger out on the balcony, everyone has been thoroughly checked here, I’ll be fine for five minutes.”

You have a staring match for a minute where he weighs in on your words before finally nodding.

“Five minutes,” he says, opening the door for you.

“Start the fucking clock,” you mumble under your breath.

As you stand by the railing, staring out into the night you feel more deflated than ever. Like you’ve lost every ounce of energy and the urge to just scream is quite tempting. This is not the life you dreamed of, but it is what your father always wanted and you sometimes feel like a terrible daughter for being so displeased. You do have privileges others would never get to experience, but you’ve never felt lonelier and more out of place. The way here showed you how shallow your friendships have been, now only have about three people you consider your friend and one is your bodyguard, one is studying in Switzerland and the third is… Wait, there’s no third. That’s it, you have two friends.

You hear Styles stepping closer and you already know what he is about to say.

“I know my time is up, but if you dare to remind me, I’m pushing you off this balcony.”

Turning around you face him, ready to fight him for some more time, but you’re surprised to see him with that tiny smile on his face.

“You’re really moody today,” he states, but it’s not one of those smartass comments he usually makes, he is teasing you.

“Surprising?”

“A little bit. Are you… Are you still upset about your date?” His face turns serious.

“I was never upset about the date specifically. I was upset because… Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Stop being so fucking polite,” you groan.

“I can’t be rude to you, I would lose my job.”

“You’ve been rude to me on several occasions! Especially at the beginning!” you accuse him.

“I was never rude. I was honest.”

“Jesus, you are so annoying,” you roll your eyes that earns a smirk from him.

“That’s not my job, but I tend to be that often.”

“I might be moody, but you’re awfully cheeky tonight. What’s gotten into you?”

You head back inside, Styles following you.

“Don’t know, guess I’m just in a good mood.”

“Alright, then I’ll need a drink to put up with this new side of yours.”

And that’s what you did, but you didn’t stop at one drink. You didn’t plan to, but you successfully got so drunk Styles had to rescue you out of the venue before your father saw you. After all, you did make an Irish exit.

In the car you can tell Harry is not in the same good mood, he looks rather pissed as he drives you back home, constantly checking the mirrors to see if Morrison and Jackson are behind you.

“Aw, did I make your job harder?” you pout, but then start laughing as you look at his hard stare. His profile looks annoyingly beautiful and you just want to draw the slope of his nose with your finger.

“No, but it would have been nice if I didn’t have to bring you out through the back door on my shoulder, because you kept running away.”

You start laughing as he recites what happened just about fifteen minutes ago when he was trying to chase you down to get you into the car and away from anyone that could ruin your father’s political career if they saw his daughter running around drunk.

“Don’t be so pissed, your eyebrows will glue together one day, you pull the together way too much,” you snort out a laugh as you slide lower in your seat.

It’s an hour long drive and of course, you fall asleep soon. When you open your eyes next, you see that you’re already in the garage of your building.

“Come on, you need to get to bed.” Styles opens the car door, but you’re still half drunk and half asleep, so you just mumble something and close your eyes back. “Y/N, you can’t spend the night in the car.”

“Says who?” you breathe out.

For a few seconds nothing happens and you start drifting back to sleep when you feel an arm behind your back and one under your knees. You faintly realize that you’re being carried up to your apartment and when you force yourself to open your eyes, you realize that it’s Styles.

“Mm, is this also in your job description?” you groggily tease him, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Mr. Styles. Harry. Can I… call you that?”

“Call me whatever you want,” he answers and then waits in front of the apartment while it’s checked out. With the last bits of your energy you study his face that’s now dangerously up close. He is carrying you like you weigh nothing, his strong hold keeping you safe.

“Oh, don’t tell me stuff like that,” you chuckle, your eyes closing as you push down a yawn. You hear the agents coming out of your apartment, saying it’s clear before Harry starts walking again and a few moments later you’re laid down on your bed.

“You have to change, Y/N,” he tells you, pulling your heels off your sore feet. Groaning, you sit up and he helps you up to a standing position before turning around to walk out, but you stop him, pulling him back by his hand.

“I can’t get this off alone,” you say, nodding down at your dress. You catch the hesitation in his eyes as he weighs in the situation and steps back at last.

You turn around and move your hair so he can access the zipper. He doesn’t move instantly and you’re almost about to turn around when you finally feel his touch on your back. He places one hand to your shoulder blade, holding the dress in place while he pulls the zipper down with the other.

Slowly.

So slowly, it’s almost like foreplay.

Especially since you have no bra underneath, so the lower he gets the more skin he is able to see. The silky dress loosens around your body and you know he is looking at your bare back. With one hand you keep the dress to your chest, but the other one lets go of your hair as you turn back around to face him. 

The alcohol is working eagerly in your system and you’re feeling blunt and risky as you hold your chin high with a half smirk.

“Where did your cheekiness go, Harry?”

“I’m gonna go now.” He gulps hard as he backs away towards the door, but you follow him.

“Am I that scary? That you’re running away?”

“Y/N, stop.” He looks into your eyes as he finally stops and his green irises appear dangerously dark as he stares back at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug innocently as you keep walking towards him until you’re just inches away from his chest. “Have you never thought of me like that?”

He doesn’t answer, but you don’t see disgust on his face and it’s enough for you to keep pushing.

“Because I have. Several times. On nights when I knew you were outside and then other times when I didn’t know where you were but I was hoping you were thinking of me.”

He is still completely silent, though his eyes are throwing fireworks your way when one of the straps of your dress slips down your shoulder.

“I want you and I want you to want me too, Harry,” you whisper as you move even closer, your hand that’s holding your dress pushing to his chest while the other moves up to the base of his neck. His skin is burning and you’re desperate to feel it underneath his crispy dress shirt too. 

But before you could close the gap, he pulls back and it’s like a slap across your face.

“Go to bed, Y/N. You need to sleep.”

“But think about it, you could brag about fucking the president’s daughter, wouldn’t you want that? You’d be the man, Harry.”

Your words are like venom as you look at him, your chest heaving, your heart hammering under your hand. 

“Stop talking before you say something you might regret,” he warns you.

“So you’re not man enough to fuck me? How should I trust you with my life then if you can’t even make me come?” you call after him when he is already out of the bedroom.

He freezes and the words sink in as you stare at the back of his head. You expect him to turn around and lecture you, to tell you how cheap you sounded, but instead he just walks out of the apartment and leaves you to your spiraling, drunk thoughts.

You realize you never actually knew panic and terror until you wake up the next morning, realizing what you did last night. That you have to face Harry after you almost begged him to fuck you and then said he is not man enough to be your guard because he didn’t have sex with you.

You have an afternoon yoga class on Sunday that you very much consider canceling on just so you don’t have to face Harry, but you can’t hide in your apartment forever, you’d have to meet him again sooner or later. So when it’s time for you to leave and you hear the knock on your door you open it with shaking hands, relief washing over you instantly when you find DeLuca standing in front of you, no trace of Harry.

That means you have some more time to figure out how to deal with the situation you got yourself into. Yoga actually helps you find some peace of mind, but only until you leave and catch on Jackson’s radio before getting into the car, Harry’s voice asking for a report.

He is working and he’ll be at your apartment, meaning that you have to go through the most awkward situation ever in about fifteen minutes. 

It all happens as if you were in a movie. Arriving at the garage Jackson opens the door for you, DeLuca rounds the car and right at that moment the doors to the elevator swing open and Harry walks out with two other agents. Your mouth goes dry and you’re getting ready to fake your death, but things take a turn then.

“DeLuca, take her to the second floor, it’s been cleared. Jackson, Morrow, come with us.” Harry instructs the agents and you realize something is wrong.

“What? What’s happening?” 

There’s an apartment on the second floor for the agents, like their own little headquarter and it’s usually the safe place they take you to whenever something looks suspicious. Harry looks at you, worry etched onto his face as he places a hand to your back and leads you over to DeLuca.

“There’s been a security alert while you were away, we need to check the whole building.”

“Alert? What kind?” 

“Someone tried to get into your place,” is all he says before he passes you over to DeLuca and disappears with the other agents.

The time you spend on the second floor feels like forever, but it’s actually only twelve minutes. They sweep through the whole building and check the system, trying to find out what happened, but the cameras only caught a man in a black hoodie who stopped at your door, fidgeted with the lock for a while but couldn’t get in so he left. When it’s safe for you to return to your own place you’re walked back by two agents, but the tension is still thick. 

You hear Harry doubling the agents for the rest of the day and night and he checks your apartment one last time himself again when his phone rings and you know it’s your dad calling from the tone he answers the call.

“Yes, sir. Passing the phone over,” Harry says after the briefing of the situation and then holds the phone out to you.

“Dad?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I wasn’t here.”

“Alright. We’ll have some extra agents around you for a while. I know you don’t like the guardedam, but we have to do it until we find out who it was.”

“Okay.”

You talk a little more and then you give the phone back to Harry, because your dad wants to have a few words with him. He listens carefully for a while and then walks out of the apartment, leaving you wondering what else there could be, but your dad could be a little too overprotective, so you’re sure he is just fussing about the situation.

You’ve just finished making yourself a cup of tea when Harry returns. He would never admit it, but you can tell this incident is stressing him out. 

“Everything alright with my dad? He didn’t tell you off or anything, right?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you won’t like what I’m going to say. You need to have an agent in here with you until we get to the bottom of this situation.”

“Will it be you?” The question rolls off your tongue before you could even think about it. 

“If you want me, yes.”

“I feel the safest with you.”

It’s the truth. Even though the things you told him, screamed at him, don’t agree, he is still the one you trust the most around here to have in your apartment with you.

“Okay,” he nods. “I have to talk to the team, so–”

“Wait!” you stop him from leaving, knowing well you need to have this conversation. Swallowing hard you leave the tea on the kitchen counter and round the island to get closer to him, but still keep some distance. “I want to… I want to apologize for last night. My behavior was… Unforgivable.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you give him a hard look. “I had too much to drink, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. So… I’m sorry.”

He stares back at you for seconds that feel like forever before he finally nods and you know it’s not just a meaningless reaction to get you out of his hair.

“Okay.”

“We’re… we’re good?”

“Yes. But I really need to go now.”

“Alright,” you clear your throat as you watch him walk towards the door, but he turns back one last time. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

And with that, he is off to do his job.

You spend the rest of Sunday studying and you get so focused on your textbooks and notes that you totally forget about Harry’s return and you don’t even notice it. So when you wander out of your bedroom after your brain has been fried from everything you studied, you almost scream when you see Harry standing in the living room by the window.

“Holy shit!” you snap a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart.

“What happened?” He moves fast like a cat, instantly checking the room for possible dangers.

“Nothing happened, I just… forgot you’d be here,” you admit with a soft chuckle as you head out to the kitchen. “It’s kind of creepy how you’re just standing there.”

“I can see the street from here as well,” he answers, as if it was such an obvious thing to say.

As you move around the kitchen, heating some leftovers up you catch him looking at you, or to be more precise, your legs that are almost completely bare thanks to the cotton shorts you’re wearing. 

Last night was a disaster, but now that the shame has settled in you, something else has been lingering in the back of your mind. The sense of hesitation you experienced when you were trying to seduce him embarrassing yourself has been on your mind. How he didn’t move away instantly, how it looked like he was fighting himself, so it gives you the idea that a tiny part of him does look at you the same way you look at him. 

The way he is looking you up is another boost to the theory. 

“Any news about the intruder?” you casually ask, ignoring his stare that quickly slips away from you when you speak up.

“Not yet. But we’re working on it.”

“Do you think… it’s something serious? Like someone is after me?” Leaning onto the kitchen island you play with the spoon in your hand as you look at him, waiting for his response.

“I wouldn’t go into guessing. I’m more of a–”

“Of a fan of factual planning, I know,” you finish his sentence with a smile. You’ve heard it from him several times, word by word.

Grabbing the bowl you round the island and stop a few feet away from him.

“I really do trust you, Harry. With my life.”

You feel like you had to let him know again after last night. The way you questioned his ability to protect you was not fair, he gave you no reason to believe he is not the best person for the job. There’s a reason why he is head of the team.

“Thank you,” is all he says. He is back to his distant self that only focuses on work. You know in times like this it’s better to play by the rules and retreat.

“I’m gonna head to bed soon. Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

Everything falls back to a somewhat normal routine. Following the incident your team almost doubles, but nothing actually happens and the building’s security system gets an update so three weeks later you’re back to your usual with only slight changes. 

Like how there’s an agent in your living room during the night.

There was a discussion about positioning someone inside your apartment and they explained to you why it’s better to have someone with you during the night. You understood and agreed to do it under one condition: you have to approve of the agents that can take the position. There are three of them and of course, Harry is in that team.

He’s been taking up the inside position as much as he can. He never asked you, but maybe he figured you know him the best and feel the most comfortable with him inside.

Most of the time he hangs out in the living room. He doesn’t stand by the window all the time, you’ve caught him sitting in the armchair, walking around, stretching his limbs. To make it less miserable for him you spend a lot of time in front of the TV, mostly to hopefully entertain him at least a bit now that he’s stuck with you more than ever. For days, he didn’t even look at the screen, but lately you’ve caught him following the show several times, so you’re religiously keeping this habit up. 

The awkwardness has faded, but it definitely taught you a lesson. You better not get drunk when Harry is around and that’s like… all the time. 

Everything seems to be back to it’s extraordinary normal that you’ve been used to for the past few years. 

Today is a special day, however. You’ve been part of a case study competition, your criminal law professor suggested you enter and you’ve worked insanely hard on your case for the past three months that earned you first place. They are holding a little award ceremony today and it will finally be your moment. You will be in the spotlight because of something you worked hard for and not because your father is the leader of the country. 

He promised to be there and watch you accept your well-deserved award and you’re excited to make him proud. 

You started the day early and channeled your excitement into a long morning run before spending the noon at a salon to get your hair and nails done for the occasion. You might be the president’s daughter, but you’re a woman after all and you love a good pampering before an event. 

Now you’re sitting in you closet, trying to figure out what to wear, all the outfits you’ve tried on but decided against are lying on the floor around you in piles. You start to think you should have gone shopping, but then you find the perfect dress, a simple, but elegant black dress with a deeper back cut. You pair them with a pair of designer heels and some statement earrings to bring some light into this quite dark set and you’re all done. 

When you walk out of the bedroom Harry is standing by the window in his usual black suit white shirt attire. His eyes snap over to you and this time he can’t hide how he checks you out from head to toe. You can feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a twirl.

“You look… very professional,” he answers. It’s not what you expected, but you know he meant it in the best possible way.

“Has my dad’s plane landed?”

“I haven’t gotten any news from his team yet, but I’m sure he’ll be there on time. Shall we leave?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling out of breath. An unsettling feeling sinks into your gut, but you brush it off as Harry helps you put on your coat and you leave the apartment in the ring of agents.

Because of your attendance, the event’s security has been obviously raised and a group of agents have been at the venue long before your arrival, checking every corner so when you’re finally there you can walk in without having to wait in the car. 

The competition had several different fields so there will be more students awarded today, the room is full of winners, their proud professors and parents as well. You take your assigned seat and nervously look around, searching for any sign of your father, but there’s none, so you’re left with just waiting.

It’s killing you, so you text him but you get no response. He should have landed by now to make it in time, his silence is raising concern in you now.

“Harry? Can you please reach my father’s security team?” you ask and nodding he takes a few steps back as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

Something is off, you can feel it in your guts and you fucking hate it. It takes forever for Harry to turn back to you, right when everyone starts clapping, because the dean has entered the stage to start the ceremony, but you’re only looking at Harry.

“What did they say?”

“Y/N, he is… He is not coming.”

“What?” It feels like a punch in your stomach and you wish Harry would say it’s just a joke, that he is about to walk in any moment, but the look on his face tells you it’s the truth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you whisper as you turn back to face the stage, your throat closing up while you fight your tears.

It was the first thing you asked from him in so long. You’ve been there for him every step of the way and today you just needed your father to be here and be proud of you, but he ditched you. There’s been an ongoing joke on the internet that it will always be the country before you for your dad and you even laughed about it before, but now it’s your cruel reality.

You watch the winners get called on the stage one by one and the willingness to do the same dies in you with every passing moment. 

“Y/N?” Harry taps your shoulder and you snap out of your thoughts only to realize your name has been called. 

“Fuck,” you mumble as you stand from your seat, three agents moving with you, taking their places as you walk up to the stage and shake hands with the dean. Every first place winner has said a few words, so now it’s your turn at the microphone, but it’s like you’ve forgotten how to talk. Looking around you see the sea of faces, everyone is waiting for you to finally say something. Your eyes land on Harry and he gives you a tiny nod and somehow you find your voice.

You manage to say a few sentences about the importance of your study and thank the school for the opportunity before you walk off the stage. You’re expected to return to your seat, but instead, you’re heading to the restroom.

The dam breaks and tears start rolling down your face. You completely ignore the protocol, that an agent has to check the room before you enter and a hand pulls you back before you could rush into the ladies room.

“Y/N, I need to–”

“I don’t want to have the fucking toilet checked, I want to have some fucking privacy!” you snap at him, tears rolling down your face and you’re very close to start sobbing like a child. Harry looks back at you with shock on his face, this time he can’t even mask it, probably because he has never seen you like this.

“Okay, but–”

You don’t wait for him to finish, just push your way inside and don’t stop until you reach a sink that you can lean onto, the sobs finally erupting from your chest. 

Betrayal, disappointment and helplessness wash over you, pulling you right into a possible emotional breakdown, though you’re still fighting it as you open the tap and splash some cold water into your face.

You didn’t realize Harry followed you inside, so when you feel a hand on your back you almost get a heart attack.

“Hey, it’s just me, it’s okay,” Harry holds his palms up when you jump back, gasping for air because of the panic and crying at the same time.

“I s-said I-I wanted p-privacy!” you sob shaking your head.

“I can’t just let you walk in here alone when you can barely breathe!”

“I don’t want to do this! I don’t fucking want to do this!” you cry, leaning your back against the cold, tiled wall as you let yourself fall apart for the first time in forever. You’ve been trying to be calm and collected as much as possible, but so much has piled up on you that your father not showing up was the last straw, the cherry on top.

“Y/N, calm down, take a deep breath, okay?” Harry tries to calm you down, but you just keep shaking your head and sobbing. 

“He didn’t come! It was the only thing… I asked from him!”

“I’m sure he has a reason to–”

“I don’t fucking care! He doesn’t care about me! No one fucking does! I’m just… I have no one left! No one!”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. There are people who care about you.”

“Who? Who cares about me!” you scream at him, finally looking into his eyes and his gaze pierces into yours as he answers.

“Me. I care about you.”

“It’s your fucking job to protect me, it’s not the same!”

Your chest is heaving and you must look like a complete mess, but at this moment nothing really matters. Harry looks back at you like you just seriously hurt his feelings, like what you said was just as disappointing as your father not showing up. Long moments pass by without him saying anything and you start to think he’ll just walk out like he did that night you got drunk, but then he steps closer, definitely crossing the line of comfortable distance.

“If you think you’re just a job to me, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you beg in a whisper.

“Don’t call me a fucking liar,” he snaps back and it’s the first time you hear him swear. His pupils have swallowed his irises and his breathing is almost as wild as yours as he stares at you, practically burning a hole into your face. 

“You left me that night. Without a word. I told you I wanted you and you walked out. That does give me a certain message.”

“You were drunk out of your mind, telling me to fuck you. I would have never forgiven myself if I touched you. I had no reason to believe you wouldn’t regret it in the morning and ask to never see me again. That would have been the end of my career and the end of… me.”

Though your cheeks are still soaked from your tears, his words have stopped your crying and now you can’t even tell what you’re feeling. You have no idea what to do or say, how to react and you can’t believe how this situation is turning out to be. 

“I still want you the same,” you whisper, your mouth deciding on what to say because your brain is in complete shock. 

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, his eyes fall closed and you can tell he is fighting himself, so you want to push him over the edge. Reaching up you cup his cheek in your hand, he doesn’t move at first, but then he leans into your touch and that’s when you push yourself away from the wall to get closer to him, but he pulls away.

There’s a second of devastation, but when he reaches to his earpiece you realize someone is talking to him.

“Copy. We’re in the restroom, give me the fastest route out.” He talks into his wrist before his eyes snap up to you.

“What happened?” you breathe out, feeling like your heart cannot take another shock at this moment, but you’ll have to deal with it anyway. He listens to the answer they give him through his com before talking to you.

“We need to get out. The guy who was at your apartment was spotted in the building.”

“What? Is he armed?” Harry takes your hand in his firm hold and gently, but confidently pulls you towards the door. 

“We don’t know, he ran away, DeLuca and Jackson are after him, but we need to get you out of here.”

Your pulse is higher than ever, you feel dizzy and your brain is definitely shutting down, too much has happened in just minutes, you’re on survival mode. Harry must have noticed your state, because before he could open the door he turns to you, taking your face in his hands.

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m right here.”

“Okay,” you nod, blindly believing anything he says.

He then opens the door, steps out first to check what’s happening and returns to get you and you’re on your way to flee the building.

Circled by agents you follow Harry through hallways you’ve never been to until you somehow get to a back entrance. Your car is already there, waiting for you and you get in the back, lying down onto the seat, remembering that’s what Harry asked from you the last time you had to be rescued out of somewhere. You catch his face before he shuts the car door and he gives you a small nod. 

You don’t experience much of what goes down at the venue, they take you to a safe spot and you wait there with three agents while the rest of your team is either in the venue or at your apartment, making sure there’s no one there. 

Almost an hour goes by when Harry returns and you look at him, feeling on the edge to finally know something.

“We lost him. Your apartment is cleared, let’s get you home.”

You can tell he is beating himself up for letting the guy slip away and you already know he will put his walls back up.

He does one more check in the apartment himself before letting you inside. 

“We are doubling the security for tonight and then we’ll talk about the changes tomorrow,” he lets you know, following you inside. 

“Okay. Are you gonna stay in here?”

“Most likely,” he nods.

“Are you blaming yourself for tonight?”

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes talk for him. 

“You couldn’t have spotted the guy anyway, you would have been with me either way.” You walk closer to him, but keep some distance, sensing his distress.

“I wasn’t focusing fully,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Nothing happened, you–”

“Y/N,” he stops you from talking. “I’m responsible for your safety. Today I put that responsibility behind my feelings and that cannot happen again.”

“Is this your way of saying… you don’t want me the way I want you?” Now you’re moving closer, you need to reduce the distance between the two of you, it’s like something is pulling you towards him, a force that you’re not strong enough to fight. 

He stares at you for long seconds, taking a deep breath before he speaks up slowly in a calm manner.

“What I want does not matter when your safety is at risk. Let me… Let me do my job, let me do what I have to do to keep you safe. Please.”

It’s like he’s begging you, pleading for you to understand and… let go of him. And as much as you want it all to be different, you can’t go against his will and intentionally hurt him, there’s nothing you can do other than live with the pain. Like you always do.

“Okay,” you whisper and try your best to swallow back your tears, you’ve cried enough today. 

Harry exhales, like he’s relieved you’re not putting up a fight and to your surprise he cradles the back of your head and pulls you closer so he can place a kiss to your forehead. 

“I have to take care of a few things, Morrison will be in here until then, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod weakly. His hand falls from the back of your head and you watch him turn around and walk out of the apartment. 

You’re on autopilot. Have been for weeks.

Following the award ceremony things turned upside down once again. On one hand everyone has been on edge, because they couldn’t track the guy down, so your security has been doubled since then. Agents follow you everywhere, making it impossible to have a normal human interaction, not that you had plenty of friends to hang out with before. But still.

Your dad called that night and gave you some grand story about why he couldn’t make it to the ceremony, you told him it was fine, because you had no energy to lash out on him and you haven’t had a decent conversation with him since then. You can’t say it bothers you, it’s like there was a switch inside you that now allows you to give zero fucks about what your father does. You’ve canceled two events you were supposed to attend by his side, using the mystery intruder as an excuse, saying that you don’t feel safe out in public. You could tell he was annoyed, but didn’t question it. 

And then there is the Harry situation. Or the lack of it, if you’d like. It’s been hurting like hell, but there’s nothing you can do other than keep your promise of letting go of him. It’s just really hard when you spend so much time with him and have him in your apartment almost every night. 

You don’t watch TV anymore. You can’t bear being in the same room with him with no one else around. It’s hard enough to know he is on the other side of your bedroom door. You go back to coexisting, you silently follow his orders and not give him a headache when you know he already has a lot on his plate, he does his job in peace and everyone is happy.

Or not, but it doesn’t matter. 

The school semester is nearing its end and you’re already planning to ask to stay here for the summer. You know your dad will flip, but you’ll at least try to make a deal with him to attend events in the summer if it means you don’t have to move back home that doesn’t even feel home anymore. 

With your finals coming up you spend most of your time in the library. Surrounded by heavy books, hundreds of pages of notes, you’re working your ass off, because this is the only thing that could make you forget about your misery for a while. 

It’s a Friday afternoon, almost evening and you’re still very much working on a paper in the almost entirely empty library. It’s a great time, because most students avoid the building on Fridays, more interested in parties than books, so it’s a lot more peaceful. It’s your way of distraction from the fact that you have to make an appearance tomorrow for your dad and you can’t bail out of it this time. 

There are three agents near you and two more at the entrance, but Harry is not working now. He will probably take another night shift, not that you keep track of when he works…

You’re too focused to notice the group of people that come in, but when you spot a figure approaching you and the agents around you move instantly, you finally lift your head up from the book in front of you. You’re surprised to see Jaiden coming in your way, stopped by the agents.

“Jaiden?”

“Um, I just want to talk to her,” he says to the agents and you nod your head to let him through. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to give you something, thought you might be interested,” he shrugs as he passes you over a paper and with that he is already on his way, leaving you puzzled.

It’s a QR code so you grab your phone and read it and a website starts loading on your screen. When it finally loads, you feel all the blood rushing out of your head.

It’s a site basically dedicated to you, where people can send in anonymous comments and stories about you for everyone to read them. There are quite a few, a big chunk of them obviously from guys you’ve gone on dates with, dragging you through mud, a lot of them stating things that never even happened. 

You just scroll and keep reading them in total disbelief and then you hear laughter. You look up and see Jaiden with a group of fratboys, having a blast seeing you go through the site before they hoard out of the library. 

Your head is spinning and you feel like throwing up as you pack up your stuff as quickly as possible. It’s a struggle not to start sobbing on your way home, neither of the agents ask what’s wrong, because they are not your friend, they are there to keep you safe, but not from assholes, apparently. When you arrive to your apartment you see Harry already waiting by the door, but you avoid looking him in the eyes as you rush inside, wanting to lock yourself up in your room preferably forever. 

The tears start rolling down your cheeks when you hear someone coming after you and you know it’s Harry. 

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, keeping your back facing him so he can’t see your face.

“Then look at me, please.”

You don’t move, just stand there, silently crying and there’s no way of fooling him, he knows you better than anyone and your shoulders are shaking as well. Slowly, you turn around for him to see your face.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer, but he still keeps some distance between the two of you.

“Nothing, I said I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine, Y/N, don’t… don’t bullshit me, okay? Tell me what happened!”

He won’t give up, he won’t leave you alone until you say something so you pull your phone out of your pocket, open the website and hand it over to you. You watch him scroll for a minute before he looks up at you.

“We’re taking this down and we’ll find whoever did this,” he firmly says and before you could react he is already giving orders through his com. “They are on it. we’ll find them, don’t worry.” “Okay,” you breathe out and you turn around to lock yourself up in your bedroom, but he stops you.

“Y/N, wait!”

You look back at him, not even trying to mask how tired, defeated and hopeless you’re feeling. You must look like just a shadow of the person you used to be and the sight of you is probably just as depressing as you feel because it breaks the professional boundary that’s been between you and Harry.

He moves across the room and pulls you into his arms and you just start crying and sobbing uncontrollably while he holds you tight, gently rocking you from side to side to soothe you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into your hair and you just bury your face deeper into his neck, probably totally ruining his shirt, but neither of you cares about that right now. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you sob, melting into his embrace, because it feels like the only safe place for you.

“I know. I wish I could help you. Tell me what I can do for you.”

“Just please don’t leave me, not tonight, please!” you beg and fully expect him to pull the wall back up, but instead he just holds you even tighter.

“I would never leave you, Y/N.”

The amount of times you had to fake laugh tonight is ridiculously over the roof. It’s another evening where you’re just a tool, something your father can brag about but you hold no influence or whatsoever. 

You’re sipping on some champagne, but you’re careful with the alcohol consumption this time. Though you’re not sure how another situation like that last time would turn out now. Especially after that night after the website fiasco.

After soaking his shirt with your tears the two of you sat on the couch, you remained in Harry’s embrace and he talked you through it, until you momentarily forgot about what happened and somehow you ended up falling asleep. When you woke up you had a blanket over you and Harry was standing in his usual spot by the window, like a hound, watching out for danger. When he realized you woke up he walked you into your bedroom, tucked you in and sat beside you until you wófell back asleep. 

The website was down by the morning and the school was informed about it as well, taking matters into their hands to punish those who created it. You didn’t want to know the names, you just wanted to forget about the whole thing. 

That night changed things between you and Harry. You didn’t feel that wall between the two of you though there was still some distance, but it felt like you could overstep it easily. It’s like you’ve been dancing on a fence, still not sure which side you want to land on. You’re not planning to pressure him to choose, having him this close is already more than you had before so you’re happy to prolong it for as long as possible. 

You have no idea where the conversation is heading around you, you’ve zoned out of it long minutes ago. It’s not that you don’t understand what politicians, influential people tend to talk about at events like this. It’s more about how you recognize some of them know nothing about the field they work at and still hold the power. 

And you lost interest too. 

Holding your champagne flute your eyes wander over the room until they settle on Harry. He is by the window, what a shocker, examining the sea of guests around you, watching out like a hawk until his gaze meets yours and his expression softens. 

“Bored,” you mouth to him and you catch the smirk he tries hard to cover up.

“You got this,” he mouths back to which you frown, making him laugh.

His laugh.

You’ve been gifted with it more in the past few days than in the time you’ve known him and it’s definitely one of your favorite things in the entire world.

“Break?” you mouth once again and he just nods, moving instantly. 

Five minutes later you’re out on the balcony with him, two guards standing by the door inside. 

“This should be considered torture,” you sigh.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teases you.

“I’m not, I hate it here. Look around.” You stand beside him, staring inside at the sea of guests. “What am I doing here?”

“Supporting your dad.”

“I think he is fine without me,” you shrug, nodding towards him, he is standing in a circle of men, all of them pretending to be having a marvelous time, but you know for a fact at least two of those men would backstab him the first given chance. It’s all so pretentious and you’re tired of trying to be part of it for him.

“What would you like to do?” Harry asks.

“What do you mean?”

“If you could do anything, any job, anywhere, what would it be?”

You’ve never really thought of that before. A life that’s entirely what you want it to be is so far out of your reach that you never let yourself daydream about it. So now you take some time to think it through before sharing it with Harry.

“I would probably have a riding school,” is what you tell him at last. He looks at you surprised.

“Like… horses?”

“Yeah,” you smile softly, keeping your eyes ahead, staring at the people inside. “I used to ride a lot when I was smaller and I loved it a lot.”

“But you never do it anymore, why?”

“I wasn’t exceptional in it, never won any competitions so my dad thought I shouldn’t keep doing it. He talked me into quitting and I started learning French instead.”

“You speak French?” he asks in shock.

“No,” you chuckle, finally looking at him. “I was mad at him for making me quit horse riding so I never put any effort into my French classes, I can barely introduce myself.”

“Wow, such a rebel,” he chuckles quietly.

“What about you?”

“I don’t speak French.”

“I know that,” you roll your eyes. “I meant, what would you want to do if you could do anything?”

He curls his lips into his mouth as he thinks about it, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I think I would be living on a farm.”

“A farm?”

“Yeah. You know, growing stuff and keeping animals. I love the thought of growing everything I need.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smile at him. “I hope you get to do that one day.”

“I do too,” he nods and the two of you just stand there, watching the mingling and dancing guests.

It’s a moment you want to last longer, you feel close to him, like you’ve finally jumped off that fence and you’re running away. Together. 

So at last you decide to give him a little push.

“I wish we could be dancing there too.” 

Your voice is quiet, barely audible through the noises coming from inside and when he doesn’t say anything for a while you start to think he didn’t even hear it, or that he is ignoring your words because he doesn’t want to deal with them.

But then his hand gently takes yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I would… love that.”

Your chest feels like bursting and you wish you could just jump into his arms, but you know you can’t. So instead, you just stand there, enjoying this tiny, hidden moment that’s burning into your memories forever.

It was hard to focus on your conversations before, but now, after you’ve shared that special moment with Harry it’s kind of impossible.

You’re making your rounds around, chit-chatting and smiling as pleasantly as possible, but in your mind you’re still out on the balcony, holding hands with Harry.

Talking about him, you haven’t seen him in a little while. You look around, searching for him once again, probably for the millionth time in the past ten minutes, but you see no sign of him.

“Morrison, where’s Styles?” you ask the agent beside you.

“Your father asked to see him, Miss,” he informs you. 

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, Miss, I’m sorry.”

You try not to think much of it, but when you finally spot him in the crowd your stomach drops, because his expression is anxious and angry at the same time, though he is trying hard to mask it. But you know him too well.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, instantly ignoring the conversation you’ve been in before. 

“Can’t talk right now, but we better leave.”

You don’t question him, just follow, though the way he is acting now is freaking you out. He is right next to you as you make your way out of the room, getting farther and farther from the rest of the guests.

“What happened?” you finally ask when you’re walking down the hallway that leads to the entrance.

“I don’t want to turn you against your father,” he answers, but now you’re just even more keen on knowing what’s going on.

“Harry, tell me!” you demand, stopping abruptly.

Not too willingly, but he comes to a halt as well, turning to face you as he leans closer.

“Your father kept it a secret that they got a letter yesterday in which someone threatened to hurt you today. He kept it from us, because he knew you wouldn’t come tonight if you found out.”

“What?” All the blood rushes out of your face as his words process. 

“He strengthened security for your sake and thought it would be alright, but I don’t want to risk it, we need to get you somewhere safe until we get to the bottom of this whole thing.”

“Okay,” you nod, a shiver running down your spine at just the thought of that letter your father hid from you. 

You’re nearing the exit when your father’s voice beams through the hallway, just when you’re already seeing your car outside.

“Y/N! Where are you going?!” 

He is rushing towards you with his own security team circling him and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“I’m leaving!”

“And you didn’t think of at least saying goodbye?”

“I’m not doing anything for you anymore. Not when you’ve intentionally put me in risk just so you could use me at another event!”

The look he gives Harry says it all. He is pissed that Harry told you about the threat, that someone went against his will.

“It’s not that serious, Honey. We have everything under control.”

“Is that so? Then who sent the letter?”

“We don’t know it yet, but—”

“What if it’s the same guy that’s been stalking me? What if it really is something serious?” You’re finally lashing out on him, something you probably should have done a lot earlier, but you didn’t have the balls. You’re done being the obedient, supportive daughter to a father that’s not returning it at all.

“We doubled security and I have people working on it! No need to–”

“Don’t tell me what I need and don’t need to do! I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore! You knew I would panic if I found out about it but you chose to hide it so you could use me tonight to show people how great of a family we are when in reality, you give no fucks about me!”

“Y/N, that is not true. I didn’t want to stress you out, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Lie. That is such a big fucking lie.

“I’m done. I’m done with you. Call me when you’re ready to be my father.”

Turning around you’re on your way out to the car, you hear your dad calling after you, but Harry stops him and it’s the first time you hear him talk so harshly to your father.

And then all hell breaks loose. But it’s not because of Harry’s way of talking to the president.

You’re approaching the car confidently, eager to get away from your dad and the madness that surrounds him, Harry is following you right behind and as you keep your gaze on the car suddenly you realize.

It’s not yours.

Everything happens so fast, but at the same time it’s like it’s in slow motion.

A guy jumps out of the car and points a gun right at you. The agents around you launch forward, but he is several feet away, so they don’t reach him before he pulls the trigger and shoots at you. In that moment you believe you’re about to die. Gasping in surprise you completely freeze, but then get pushed to the side with so much force you smash against the wall, pain jolting through your left arm instantly as the shot of the gun rings in your ear.

You fall to the floor the same time the agents tackle the shooter. From the corner of your eyes you see how your ad is being dragged away from the scene before he could get hurt as well, even though he is shouting your name, it’s protocol to rescue him and take him to a safe place right away.

As you look to your right you see another person on the floor and your heart skips a beat when you realize that it’s Harry, and a pool of blood is underneath you, growing rapidly each second.

He took the shot that was meant for you.

The rest is a blur. You start screaming and try to reach him while two agents pull you up from the floor to take you away from the scene as well, your arm hurts like hell, but you just keep screaming for Harry. 

At last you catch his face, you see him gasping for air, pure panic and fear all over his face, he looks at you one last time and you see a tear rolling down his face before you’re dragged away.

The constant beeping. It just keeps going and going and it’s driving him crazy. 

Crazy enough to finally open his eyes.

Harry is more than confused about his surroundings, the hospital room looks sterile, but nice, very nice if you ask him, so he knows he is at some kind of private facility. It takes a couple of moments for the pain to set in but when it does, it comes with all the memories as well.

He was shot in his chest when he pushed you out of the way, he remembers the pain he felt then which was a lot worse and more intense than the dull, pressure like feeling in his chest right now. He remembers lying on the floor and looking at you as two agents pulled you away and he knows he said his goodbye in that moment, because he was convinced he would die.

He didn’t. 

Now he is lying in a hospital bed, the machines hooked onto him keep beeping and tracking his vitals and when he turns his head slightly to the left the beeping intensifies because he sees you sleeping in an armchair next to his bed. 

You look awfully uncomfortable, but still breathtakingly beautiful, your left arm is in a cast and you’re cradling it to your chest. As if you could sense his wandering gaze, you start moving around and you blink your eyes open at last, seeing that Harry is finally awake.

“Hey,” he breathes out, barely finding the energy to speak, but you burst into tears right away as you fall forward, one hand coming to the side of his head, the other one holding his hand on the mattress.

“You’re awake, oh my God, I really thought I lost you!” You sob and try to take in the sight of him conscious and talking, something you didn’t think you’d ever see again when you saw him lying on the floor three days ago.

“I’m okay, I’m right here,” he exhales as his other hand comes to take your hand by his face. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Harry, you were literally shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” you laugh through your tears, finally cracking a smile from him as well. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you.”

“I’m fine, just broke my hand, but it’s okay. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

“Kind of. But it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? The bullet missed your heart by one millimeter. Doctors said it’s a miracle you survived.”

“Well, at least I know I’m not bulletproof,” he tries to joke and it makes you laugh and that was his only intention. 

You’ve stopped crying, but you wouldn’t move from beside him. You’ve been in this room since they brought him out of surgery and refused to leave since then. He reaches over and wipes your tears off your cheeks before cradling your face in his palm. You gladly lean into his touch and then turn your head to kiss into his hand without hesitation. 

You fill him in on what happened. Tell him about how he was rushed to hospital and the guy was caught and it was confirmed he sent the letter and he was the one stalking you at your apartment and award ceremony as well. You were afraid it was someone you knew, but apparently he was just some psycho who wanted to hurt your dad by hurting you.

It was a wakeup call to your father. One that he desperately needed after the stunts he has pulled lately, so you had a long talk outside of Harry’s room when he found out you were here with him. He apologized for everything and promised to be better. You told him his words mean nothing, you need to see the change in his actions. 

He has visited every day since then and you discussed the future as well. A future that will bring lots of change.

“You saved my life,” you quietly say, still kind of in shock about what happened.

“I would do it again,” he replies. 

“You won’t be able to work again because of it,” you tell him. The bullet grazed his lung as well and the doctors said he might never be able to reach the same physical limits like before.

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t lose you and that’s what matters.”

His words sink in and you have to fight your tears again as you rest you lean closer, until your faces are just inches away.

“I don’t want to feel again the way I did when I thought you died. I don’t want to keep my distance, I… I love you and I want to be with you.”

Harry exhales heavily, his eyes fall closed and when they open again you get lost in them.

“I love you too. And I want to be with you too, always have.”

You let out a laugh that’s mixed with relief, happiness, pain and so much anticipation before you push closer and finally press your lips to his.

Years of built up tension and passion is set free as you kiss him and he returns it just as eagerly. It’s not at all how you imagined your first kiss, not with a cast on your arm or Harry lying in a hospital bed after being shot, but none of it matters in this moment, only him. There’s no more playing around, pushing each other away, this is end game and you both know it. 

“So…” you mumble against his lips, “Will you move to a farm with me?”

“Moving? Aren’t we rushing a little ahead?” he chuckles, brushing some loose strands of hair out of your face before pecking your lips shortly.

“No. I don’t want to waste any more time. Let’s do what we always wanted to do.”

“What about your life? Your dad?”

“I already told him I’m stepping back from my first daughter duties. He is okay with it.”

“Really?”

“I mean, he doesn’t have much saying in what I do after almost getting me killed,” you joke, though you both know how serious the matter was.

“And you’re sure you want to move on… with me?”

You smile at him softly, it’s so typical he is questioning your decision even after everything that happened. He surely needs some time to adjust to this new version of you and him where there’s no wall between the two of you, just love.

Leaning down you kiss his lips softly.

“There’s no one else I would do it with, Harry.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[staretes]

finally, before you

synopsis: he's been dreaming about this moment for centuries, but what will happen when he's finally reunited with you? w/c: 0.8k tags: blade x reader, angst, reader was blade's lover when he was yingxing (a bit ooc for blade? idk please tell me if it is) a/n: i posted this by accident twice while it was still cooking in the oven argh. i mostly typed this in school while my teachers were teaching hehe but tbh i think my writing style got alot more loose here which idk if i like... i also dont know how i feel about the flow of this but ack enjoy

blade awakes, face gently cradled by blades of grass. when he looks up, the countless stars glittering in the midnight sky greeted him, just like how they greeted him on those nights when he went to watch the vast starry sky with you. "he didn't come to the luofu to find friends, much less love" he had firmly told himself, but the thought quickly lost itself in you, the stars, and the nights you spent with him. he’d thought he had lost those nights forever.

could it finally be? his heart quickens as he hurried to stand up. the boundless expanse of grasslands that could be found at the edges of the luofu stretched as far as he could see. blade’s scarlet eyes dart frantically across the field, before they landed, with a triumph, on a figure gazing at the stars. you.  blade’s heart leaps at the sight and he hastens to reach you. he could wait no longer, he thinks, for every moment for the last seven hundred years, his heart burned in your absence. he had longed to see the sweet smile on your lips and feel your soft skin on his again. “(name),” he called softly, hoping to finally let his gaze rest upon your bright eyes under the stars once again. startled, you whip around to face him. you stand up, and your eyes search him, and he feels your gaze pierce throughout his body, looking him up and down. “yingxing…” you mumble , not sparing his eyes a single glance. blade opens his arms hesitantly, desperate to feel your embrace again. you jolt back, and your trailing gaze lands on his hands.  his hands. his hands have slain too many, dripping with the blood of so many innocent lives. he whose hands are burdened with the weight of death and violence, how could he even think of touching you, tainting you with his sin? you turn on your heel and run, farther and farther away from him, and he's left standing alone in an empty sea of grass, watching your body disappearing in the distance, with only the stars twinkling at him mockingly.

blade awakes, drenched in cold sweat, chest heaving, gasping for air. it was just a another dream, he reassures himself amongst shallow breaths. just like the dream from the night before, and the night before that, and the many, many nights before. you’ll love him, forever, no matter what, he tells himself, and it’s this faith that relights the small fire in his heart to reunite with you on that fated day in that promised land.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

the moment had finally arrived.

the chains of life that burdened blade for so long snapped, and his body arched gracefully as his body fell to the ground with a soft thud. the raging fire of mara was put out as he fell deeper into the sweet embrace of death. the peaceful silence enveloped him as he seemed to float, float away, higher and higher, transcending towards the paradise that he had longed for for centuries.

… 

blade awakes, face gently cradled by blades of grass. he looks up, and the countless stars greet him once more. on the xianzhou, where death is a distant concept, rumours swirl of the soft melodies heard when one finally finds peace in heaven. blade is sure that it's this tune that serenades him as he stands up slowly, looking around.

he doesn't have to look for long before your figure, sitting on the blanket you once shared with him, watching the stars twinkle before you. you're humming a tune, and he realises that this is the melody that's he's been hearing since he awoke. slowly, he walks towards you. 

before he can call out your name, you turn around and meet his gaze. your eyes light up and a radiant smile forms on your lips. mara-ridden centuries of separation have warped and faded blade's memories, but he's still taken aback at how your beauty far exceeds the many versions of you in his dreams. his heart rate quickens as his parched eyes drink the sight before him. "yingxing!" you beam as you stand up. your voice was still as melodious as ever. the sound of his name forming from your lips was the most heavenly song blade has heard in a long time. it seems, you have been eagerly waiting for him too. you open your arms, awaiting his embrace. this is the moment he’s been dreaming of.

his dreams.

blade tries to move, but he finds that the many seeds of doubt planted in his stomach have emerged. imaginary vines shackles his limbs and he finds himself unable to move. he tries to talk, but the thorny weeds have suffocated his throat, leaving no voice to even whisper your name. 

after everything he's done, he doesn't deserve to even face you. 

so this time, he's the one that turns and flees, further and further away from you. 

[ckret2]

Chapter 25 of human Bill is the Mystery Shack's prisoner and somehow befriended Mabel: in which Bill and Mabel make friendship bracelets. It's heartwarming. Bill is not, I repeat, not secretly up to anything nefarious.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the chapter, Bill is secretly up to something nefarious.

####

"I'll be back in exactly one hour," Ford said. "Be finished showering by then. You've got everything you need, as well as..." He looked disdainfully at a baggie of shampoo and conditioner sample bottles, "your gift from the Northwests."

Bill eyed the Northwests' little care package skeptically. Four entire separate products that were supposed to be used all in one shower. He was drowning in mammal-cleaning slimes. What a waste of his time. "You don't expect me to use allthis junk, do you?"

"Frankly, as long as you aren't bald and don't smell like gnome urine in an hour, I don't care what happens between now and then."

"You're the most merciful warden I've ever had, Stanford."

Ford wasn't sure if that was supposed to be sarcasm or an awkward glimpse into Bill's sordid history, so he just shut the bathroom door. "One hour."

"One hour!" Bill waited until he couldn't hear Ford's footsteps; and then he turned on the shower, fished a crushed cider can and eight candles out of his hoodie, and stood on the wooden crate by the window.

Over the last few days, he'd spent every spare private moment using toothpaste and toilet paper to polish the bottom of the can into a perfect, shining, concave mirror. Now, he held it up to the window with one of the candles, using the mirror to focus the sun into a point on the wick of the candle... and...

It took a couple minutes of agonizing patience, but finally the wick smoked and then ignited. Yes. Moving carefully so he wouldn't douse the flame, he used the burning candle to melt the bottoms of the other candles just enough to stick them to the floor, lit them in turn, and in the middle Bill quickly made a (frankly terrible) drawing of Kryptos by finger painting with a tube of toothpaste.

And then he knelt in front of the candle circle, and—quietly enough that the shower covered the sound—he started chanting.

Some humans called Bill a dream demon. It wasn't exactly wrong, even if calling him a dream demon was kind of like naming the entire human race "the mountain bikers."

Which was to say, if Bill was a "dream demon," then so were the rest of his people. The other surviving shapes could cast themselves like shadows onto the walls and floors of other dimensions, slip through the cracks in reality that were too thin to accommodate the depths of three-dimensional creatures, and wander through the higher dimensions' mindscapes.

It was just that it was only one of their many side hobbies rather than their main pursuit as a species—and not a particularly popular hobby, at that. Most shapes weren't into taking safaris through aliens' dreams.

Out of the shapes Bill still hung out with, Hectorgon wouldn't do it; he appreciated why Bill went on his psychic excursions for the everyone's benefit, but skulking in a higher plane's second dimension made Hectorgon feel voyeuristic—and he'd only gotten more uncomfortable with the idea since his three-dimensional makeover. Bill could wheedle a majority of Amorphous Shape into a sightseeing trip once a millennium or so, but they were just a passive tour group who would be lost without Bill as their tour guide. Kryptos alone had taken enough of an interest in alien mindscapes to make the leap from "occasional tourist" to "frequent traveler." He was the only one other than Bill who spent enough time on Earth to network with the locals; and he was the only one other than Bill who had bothered to set up a summoning ritual, in case an earthbound buddy wanted to ring him up for a party.

Kryptos's party line was going to be Bill's salvation.

Which was a shame, because Bill just knew Kryptos would be annoying about this for the next million years. He'd worry about finding a way to bully Krypt into not lording it over him after he was safely back home in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion.

But when Bill called, nothing happened.

That wasn't right. Nothing wasn't supposed to happen. Even if Krypt didn't pick up, Bill should feel the spell working. The sound of the shower should pause. The air should go still and cool. Everything should be gray.

Bill opened his eyes. Nothing was gray. He checked each candle to make sure they were all lit, checked his drawing to make sure it looked right—it wasn't exactly flattering, but the lines were straight and the angles were correct, and anyway it was recognizable enough to work for the summoning. He remembered the words, he knew he remembered the words.

Try again. He shut his eyes. "Rhombus sapphirinus. Fraternitas, caritas, veritas. Te invoco, te invito." And then, not because it was necessary but because he was getting mad, he tacked on, "Responde mihi, quadrum defututum! Culum tuum calcitrabo!"

Nothing. The world went on un-paused. Bill remained awake. He opened his eyes to the vibrant, colorful, tragically real world around him.

It didn't make sense. Even without his powers, he should be able to reach Kryptos. Any human could do this ritual, and Bill knew a whole lot more than any human. Either Kryptos was dead (unlikely; but without Bill there...), or something was blocking Bill. The block could be inside him—maybe the Axolotl was sealing off even this paltry little magic—or outside, some sort of shield blocking the mindscape. But whatever the source, the result was the same:

He couldn't get a call out. Nobody, not even his oldest friends, could hear him.

He stared at Kryptos's ugly mug for a long moment; then blew out the candles, hid them and the crushed can back in his hoodie, used toilet paper to wipe the toothpaste and wax off the floor, and got in the shower.

If he wanted to get out, he had to make new friends. He'd been making some good progress lately, particularly with Mabel. Perhaps it was time to test just how far her compassion could get him.

####

Prisma the Rainbow Fairy said, "Gee, Sunny Cat, I haven't seen you spending time with Teddy Tender lately. What happened?"

"He's a killjoy," Bill said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV. "He's a wet blanket."

A sunshine-yellow bipedal cat said, "Teddy's so sad today, and it's making me sad. I don't want to hang out with him when he's like this!"

"That's what I said," Bill said. Heckling the characters helped distract him from the urge to scratch the exposed skin on his arms until he scraped it off his bones. After showering, his hoodie had been confiscated for a round of emergency post-eye-bat-repellant laundry, and he was temporarily back in a reject gift shop t-shirt. He felt exposed.

Prisma said, "Sometimes when our friends are sad, all they need is another friend to give them a hug or tell them they care. It'll help them feel happier."

"I don't know," Sunny said. "When I feel sad, being around other people makes me feel worse."

"Everyone's a little different, Sunny. Why don't you offer to hold his hand and see if that makes him happier?"

"I guess I could try."

"Nah, it's too late for Teddy," Bill told the TV. With some glee, he added, "The most caring thing you could do is put him out of his misery."

Mabel, sitting up on the couch with three colors of embroidery floss tangled around her fingers, lightly kicked the back of Bill's head. He grinned wider. Mabel said, "Bill, I don't think you're taking this seriously."

"Was I supposed to?"

"It's a beautiful June day and I'm inside with you, so you could at least pretend to. I thought you were a good liar."

"I've never told a lie in my life," lied Bill. "But okay, fine. I've seen the error of my ruthless ways. Maybe there's hope for Teddy yet."

Mabel nodded, mollified. She set aside her current project and rummaged through her bag of embroidery floss. "Hey Bill, what's your favorite color?"

"Gold!"

"Why did I ask. What's your next favorite color?"

"Every color simultaneously superimposed over each other, instantly blinding you!"

Mabel tried to picture that. She imagined a rainbow that was also a laser that was also iridescent. Her mental image looked a lot like Prisma's combat magic. "You have such good taste."

"It takes good taste to recognize good taste!" Bill mentally reviewed the last couple minutes of conversation, saw an opportunity to bolster the "reforming monster" image he was trying to sell to Mabel, and added, "By the way—thanks for sticking around just to keep me entertained!" (See: he can say thank you unprompted.) "This sure isn't where I'd want to spend my afternoon," he laughed wryly, "but unlike me, you have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "It stinks. I wish you could go outside with me."

Bill quietly, smugly filed that statement away for later use.

Mabel pulled a couple fresh rolls of embroidery floss out of her bag and got to work with them. "We can't set off fireworks inside the shack. Or play with Soos's paintball guns."

Bill's smugness vanished, leaving behind only the hollow feeling of missing out on a lot of fun. Fireworks and paintball guns. Those were three of his favorite things: explosions, colors, and interpersonal violence.

Mabel went on, "And Candy's saved up three years of Magic Vision Poster calendars to wallpaper the inside of her closet. She read online that if you cross your eyes just right to make them all look 3D at the same time, you can hallucinate going inside them! We're gonna try it out tomorrow. That seems like something you'd like."

"What!" Bill groaned. "I've always wanted to see an autostereogram poster with two eyes! Now here I am, stuck in a stupid meat body, and I don't even get to enjoy the only thing binocular vision is good for?"

Mabel patted his shoulder.

"Back home I've got a chair with autostereogram detailing. I've never actually seen it work. And where is it when I've got two eyes?"

"I think they've got Magic Vision books in the kids' section at the library," Mabel said. "Do you want me to check one out for you?"

Bill glared at the TV, silently fuming. Then he muttered, "Yeah. I'd like that. Thanks."

The low-stakes drama on Color Critters was resolved when Sunny asked Teddy Tender if he wanted to maybe hug or hold hands until he felt less sad, and Teddy revealed he felt bad because he was lonely when he hadn't had a play date with a friend in a while. Sunny and Teddy went to the playground together, the gray swings and slide and seesaw blooming orange and yellow as they played. Crisis of the day concluded. Prisma watched proudly, before joining in the play herself. Bill was not jealous of their freedom to go to the playground.

As the credits rolled, Mabel said, "There! Give me your hand!"

Bill stuck his right arm straight out to his side. "Why—?"

Mabel wrapped something thin around his wrist, and there was a quick tug as she tied it off. "Bam! You just got friendshipped!"

"What?" Bill pulled back his wrist to examine Mabel's handiwork. It was a bracelet made out of embroidery floss knotted together into a flat band as wide as his thumb. "What is this?" Stupid question.

"A friendship bracelet!" (Of course it was a friendship bracelet; he was passingly familiar with the art form, he'd seen it centuries before they were called "friendship" bracelets.) "Make a wish."

He wished to get his body back.

"You've gotta wear the bracelet until it breaks, and then the wish'll come true."

And if he believed that, he'd already be chewing through the knot. "And, why am I getting this?"

"Because we're friends!"

"Oh." Well. Yes. Obviously.

He examined the bracelet more closely. The band formed a zig-zag pattern of black and metallic gold triangles; and Mabel had tied glass beads that looked like eyes over several of the gold triangles.

"I didn't have every color simultaneously, but I thought the black would make the gold pop." Mabel pointed at the triangles. "Look! It's you."

"I can see that." She'd used nazar beads for the eyes—a dot of black ringed in blue and white. A little eye-shaped lucky charm humans had been using to ward off the evil eye for millennia. Cute. He laughed, pointing at the beads. "So is this supposed to protect me from the evil eye, or am I the evil eye you're protecting everyone else from?"

Mabel was thirteen. Mabel hadn't put any deeper thought into it than these look like eyes. All the same, Mabel didn't hesitate before replying: "I'm turning your face into a protective charm! Now you've got to keep everyone safe!"

"Oh." And that, too, Bill quietly filed away.

"I expect you to take your new job seriously," Mabel said, pointing at him. "Don't let me down!"

"You give me a gift with my face on it and then tack on a bunch of extra terms and conditions. Very slick, kid." He admired the bracelet. It really was a pretty fine offering. He hadn't been gifted textiles in a while. "But all right! I've never gone back on a deal before," lied Bill.

Though it galled him to get something without a way to pay back the favor. It felt uneven. People don't want a god who grants miracles worth less than the tribute he'd been offered. He ran down his usual list of tricks—he couldn't snap his fingers and summon up a dream gift, he didn't have any useful info he could offer without prompting an interrogation session with his jailers, right now he couldn't even call somebody else to pull some strings on her behalf... His gaze drifted over to Mabel's bag of embroidery threads. He could see beads and a couple more friendship bracelets inside. "How many of these are you making?"

"A bunch! I'm giving one out to each new friend I make this summer."

That'd do. "Teach me."

"You what?"

"Teach me." He turned around to face the couch and pointed toward the bag. "You're making them anyway, right? Just show me as you go."

Mabel stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? She thought he was serious.

A broad smile stretched across her face. "Okay!" She dug beneath her supplies for a little dog-eared friendship bracelet pattern book. "What kind of jewelry making experience do you have? Especially involving beads or knots."

"I can tie a living creature's blood vessels into quipu knots that spell my name—all without breaking the skin!"

"That's great! Can you do it with embroidery floss instead of blood vessels."

Bill eyed the bundle of floss Mabel held out. "Yes."

"Perfect!" She shoved four thread colors in his hands, a pair of scissors, a jar of pony beads, thought better and quickly took back the scissors, and added a roll of parachute cord. "I'll teach you everything I know. Even my secret trick to keep the edges from going all wobbly! We'll start you on chevrons and then move up to teardrop loops and triangle ends." She put her hands on Bill's shoulders, looked him in his uncovered eye, and said, "I'm gonna make you a friendship bracelet master."

Solemnly, Bill said, "I'm ready."

####

Ford squinted blearily into the living room.

Sitting alone on the far side of the room, Bill was bent over the living room table, fussing with several multicolored strings and a few beads.

Bill glanced at Ford from the corner of his eye, and then—with a faint smirk—turned back to his project without a word. Oh, he wanted Ford to ask. He was dying for Ford to ask.

It was too early for this. Ford wasn't dealing with it before coffee. He shook his head and shuffled onward to the kitchen.

Stan was already up, eating eggs with some unidentified liquid meat poured over them. Over the past year, typically Ford had been the earlier riser; but this summer Stan had gotten used to Ford pulling late nights downstairs as he worked on his research, so he didn't comment on Ford's sleeping in as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

But Stan did look at Ford's face and immediately ask, "Okay. What's the latest Bill bullsh... soup? Bullsoup."

"He's..." Ford tried to figure out what Bill was doing. "Making jewelry in the living room, I think."

Stan grunted and nodded. "Yeah, he was doing that yesterday with Mabel."

"Well, now he's doing it by himself."

Stan raised a brow.

The Stans leaned around the living room doorway to watch Bill. 

Bill was engrossed with picking out a mis-tied knot, frowning deeply in concentration, one eye squeezed shut and the other squinted. He smoothed out the thread, his face relaxed; and then he glanced at the doorway, did a double take, and his shoulders went up around his ears. "What am I, a zoo attraction? Shoo! Scat!" He waved them away. "I'll throw salt at you!"

Ford raised his palms defensively. Stan said, "Okay okay, we're going."

They retreated to the kitchen.

"Well?" Stan pressed. "Is he up to dangerous voodoo stuff?"

"I'm fairy certain Bill doesn't practice Vodou."

"Answer the question, smart aleck."

Ford ran through every form of magic incorporating strings or knots he could think of. It was a pretty short list, and most of it was used for protection or binding separate things together. "Not that I know of," he said dubiously. "But it's more likely he's up to something I don't know about than it is that he's doing arts and crafts. Don't you think?"

Stan considered that. He shrugged. "Eh," he said. "It can wait 'til after coffee."

Eh. Ford was tired. He didn't want to go to red alert over some string and plastic beads. He sat down with his mug.

####

"I'm home!" Mabel called. "Biiill, I couldn't get you a Magic Vision book! The pictures in Candy's closet started moving, and I don't know if we were hallucinating or if we accidentally summoned an invisible holographic horse you can only see when you cross your eyes, so we decided to burn the posters and library books to be safe! Do you know if Magic Vision Posters summon things...?"

"I wish," Bill said. "But hey, I've got something better. Gimme your hand."

Mabel held out her hand, half pulled it back, and said, "Why?"

"Relax." Bill grabbed her wrist, tied on a bracelet, and said, "Make a wish!" He grinned. "You're impressed, admit it. Tell me you're impressed."

Mabel studied the bracelet. "Whoa." Purple, green, and orange threads formed lacy loops around a central thread, forming an endless wave that rolled up and down. The threads passed through several star-shaped pony beads, making the wave look like the tails of shooting stars. "A Peruvian wave with a perfectly straight center cord. That takes crazy precise string tension." She looked at Bill. "I have nothing more to teach you."

"Thank you, teacher."

"Is this supposed to look like my sweater?" Mabel asked, studying the pink in the tassels tying the bracelet on. "The one on your zodiac thing?"

"Sure! You gave me one that looks like me, I gave you one that represents you. Friendship's supposed to go both ways, right?"

"Bill! Is this why you wanted to learn to make friendship bracelets?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Biiill! You're being so nice!" Mabel flung her arms around him. "I love it!" And then she took off, running laps around the living room, cackling madly and waving her braceleted arm in the air. Abuelita, who'd been watching TV, calmly turned to watch Mabel zoom around.

Oh, this was great. Look at this, Bill was the best at being a friend. Everyone who'd ever ditched him was a moron who didn't know what they were missing out on. They could've gotten personalized friendship bracelets. Maybe he should have offered Ford a friendship bracelet? No, that was stupid, why would Ford prefer a friendship bracelet over unimaginable cosmic power. But then it didn't have to be either-or, did it? Ford's favorite color was red, what went with red?

When Mabel had gotten the enthusiasm out of her system, she trotted back out to the entryway and hugged Bill again. He endured it. "You won't stop making friendship bracelets now that you've made this, will you?" Mabel asked. "You're such a natural at it! And you need more hobbies that are constructive instead of destructive."

"Ouch, kid. I'll have you know I have plenty of constructive hobbies."

"I don't believe it. Name one thing you like creating."

"Weirdness bubbles."

"Name one thing you like creating that doesn't terrify people."

Bill pursed his lips. "Agree to disagree. Anyway, I'm not getting out of the friendship bracelet game just yet. In fact, I've already got another few projects in mind."

####

Bill plopped down at the kitchen table across from Mabel. "Hey star girl. Guess what."

She looked up from her cereal at the dark rings under Bill's eyes. He had one eye squeezed shut; he could usually keep both open when he'd just woken up. "Were you up all night?"

"Doesn't matter. Time is an illusion and I can see the projector. I'm counting that as your guess. Look." Bill tossed two matching bracelets down on the table between them, deep watermelon pink and minty green, shaped like macrame chains with hearts where each link of the chain met.

"Aww, little hearts."

"Thought you'd like the hearts."

Mabel picked up one end of the bracelet and slipped it on—and then noticed the long coil of embroidery floss connecting the end of one bracelet to the other. "Bill? What's this for?"

"Didn't you say a few days ago that you wished we could go outside together? I thought up a perfect solution!"

With a sudden sense of dread, Mabel realized that the chain pattern and the string connecting the bracelets made them look like an extremely long pair of handcuffs; but before she could take off her half, Bill picked up the other bracelet and said, "There's a little magic in these, look. When both ends are being worn—" He slipped on the bracelet, and Mabel felt its matching pair gently tighten around her wrist. The string connecting them vanished into thin air.

Mabel gasped. "What—?"

"Poof! It's like a ghost: still there, but invisible to human eyes. We could even go into separate rooms and it'll connect us through the walls." He demonstrated by waving his hand under the table. "But we can't get farther apart than the length of the thread. I gave it about ten yards." He plucked up something invisible and gave it a tug, and Mabel felt the bracelet go taut against her wrist. There was no force, no matter how hard Bill tugged she didn't feel like the bracelet was pulling her; rather, it felt like the other end of the thread was tied to an immobile boulder preventing her from moving further away, until she moved her hand closer to Bill's to give the thread a little slack. "And..."

Mabel tried to jerk the bracelet off her wrist; it stuck around her hand. "How do I get it off?! Bill—!"

Bill put a finger on her hand, stopping her. He said, "Neither of us can take our end off until we both decide we're ready. Like... now." He winked; and the bracelet suddenly loosened again.

Mabel pulled it off with a sigh of relief.

"Unless one of us dies or something, I guess," Bill said thoughtfully. "That'd deactivate the magic. It'd be pretty gristly to have to keep sharing a friendship bracelet with a corpse!" He laughed. "Anyway—"

Mabel chucked the bracelet in his face. "That was mean!"

Bill blinked in surprise. "What was?"

"You tricked me!" She cradled her wrist against her chest, heart still pounding from the brief unexpected captivity.

"I did not!" He took the bracelets back and started coiling up the thread between them. "You put yours on before I even said anything."

"But you could have warned me before you got us stuck together!"

"Sure, I could have, but would you have kept it on then?"

"No, you jerk. That's the point!" She looked around for something else to chuck at Bill's face, plucked a dry piece of cereal from her bowl, and flicked it at his nose. 

Bill endured his punishment without flinching. "Well, sorry, but I had to demonstrate how they work somehow." He twirled the bracelets around one fingertip. "This solves your whole 'can't let the big scary triangle out unsupervised' problem! Slap these bad boys on, and I've got automatic supervision that I can't escape! Maybe this'll convince the adults that I can be trusted outside, right?" He ate the piece of cereal. "So? What do you think?"

She thought he was still a jerk. All the same, she studied the chain bracelets. "Did you just make me a gift that's actually a gift for yourself?"

He didn't even look a little bit ashamed. "I prefer to think of it as something we'll both benefit from!"

"Bill."

"C'mooon. You know you want me out there." He lowered his voice. "Who else in this town will help you break into the pet shop to dye the dogs' fur?"

Oooh. Mabel should not have told Bill about that ambition. "Well..."

"Or help you grill hamburgers with sprinkles. You know Stanley's never gonna do that for us again," Bill said. "Or what if you need a drive somewhere, huh? The guys with licenses are gonna get tired of trips to the craft store eventually."

"You can't drive!"

"Of course I can drive, didn't you see me during—?" Bill's eyes widened. "Oh no, you didn't see! I can't believe you didn't see my car. You, you would have loved it."

He seemed serious. Maybe he could drive. "You... shouldn't get to drive."

"What if it's an emergency and I'm the only one who can do it. Do you want me in the driver's seat with or without a leash?" He spread his hands in a shrug. "And anyway... think of everything else we could be doing together outside. Purple poodles and pink pugs are just the start, my friend."

Mabel hated when she knew she was being manipulated but Bill still made a good point. She bit her lip and glanced at the clock over the sink. A tour had just started; the gift shop should be empty and the vending machine safe to use.

She got out of her seat, taking her cereal with her. "I'm gonna run this by the household magic expert."

Bill rolled his eye. "Fine. Tell Sixer we're out of apple cider."

####

"Tell Bill we got three packs last time," Ford said. "If that's not enough to hold him one week between grocery trips, then he has a drinking problem."

"Okay, but what about the bracelets?"

Ford set aside the book he'd been reading and studied the bracelets. He slipped one on his wrist.  "Mabel, would you mind putting on the other side?"

"Sure!" She pulled on the bracelet. It tightened around Ford's wrist and the thread between them disappeared. Fascinating.

After a few minutes of experimenting to see how they worked, Ford was fairly sure this was a spell he'd learned about years ago, although he'd lost the details when he tossed his second journal in the bottomless pit. Usually it was done with metal chains—but the spell should make the bracelets nigh on indestructible while the magic was active, so, as promised, it would contain Bill. As long as he didn't murder the person on the other end of the spell.

"So can I take Bill outside?" Mabel asked, hands laced together and eyes wide. "Please please please?"

"You did hear what I just said about murder, right?"

"We'll bring someone else along! Bill wouldn't try to kill me if someone else is standing guard!" (At least she still recognized that there were circumstances where Bill would try to kill her.) "He's been stuck inside for weeks. That's not healthy! He needs to stretch his legs, get some sunshine!" She smacked Ford's desk as a thought occurred to her, "And we need to take him clothes shopping. I can tell he's uncomfortable in gift shop t-shirts and Abuelita's skirts. Does he even like skirts?" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Does he even have underwear, or is he still wearing Soos's old swim trunks?"

Ford winced. "Melody was kind enough to pick some up a few days ago." But he could admit it had taken them longer than it should have.

"What about the rest of his clothes? Does he have a bra?"

"Wh—" Ford sputtered. "Does he want one?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked. It might be more comfortable. He has a lot of chest."

Lord. Ford closed his eyes. He did not want to think about bras.

"Pleeease?" Mabel said. "I wanna take him clothes shopping. He's probably never explored human fashion before! He's got to find his style. I can be his style consultant."

Aha. So that was what Mabel was getting out of all this: a person-sized dress-up doll.

Truth be told, they probably should take Bill outside. Depending on how Fiddleford's research proceeded, destroying Bill could take weeks, if not months. If there were ever an emergency, they might need to relocate Bill quickly—so it was better to ensure the bracelets worked as advertised before they became necessary.

"Fine. But this won't be a regular thing," Ford said. "Ask Stan when he can go. And your brother—I'd rather Bill know the numbers are stacked against him. And he's not allowed to talk to anybody outside the shack. You, Dipper, and Stan will have to intercept anybody he might speak to."

"Don't worry about that! I've got the perfect solution," Mabel said. "What if Grunkle Stan doesn't want to go?"

"Ask him to talk to me. I think I can convey the importance."

"You don't want to come? Are you too busy figuring out how to kill him?" Mabel's gaze moved to the books Ford had been reading.

Ford suppressed the urge to shut the books and hide the papers beside them. Mabel wouldn't be able to understand the books anyway: it was an ancient Roman historian's description of augury—fortunetelling with birds—and a Latin reference dictionary he was consulting to help him translate. He was more afraid Mabel's gaze would fall on the pages next to the books, where a few vocabulary words from the mystical, mythical language of the birds had been scrawled out in Bill's distinctive chicken scratch.

No, Ford wasn't busy figuring out how to kill Bill. He was still waiting to hear back from Fiddleford about the feasibility of synthesizing or replacing the quantum destabilizer's Dontium; and, in the meantime, he'd allowed himself to believe there was nothing else he could do on his own... and by now, he'd gotten thoroughly distracted. Going through Bill's notes, verifying his claims, following up on the leads he'd subtly slid in. Bill's miniature grimoire was the most dense magical text since the Emerald Tablet. Opening it up was like a cryptography puzzle mixed with a dissertation research project, and each sentence was a fractal flower of information, a bud that bloomed into a dozen more buds that each bloomed into a dozen more.

It was amazing. Enthralling. This was the kind of research Ford was made for. He was the most relaxed he'd been in weeks.

He hadn't told anybody what he was doing while Fiddleford worked.

"No, not that," he told Mabel, "I just don't want to spend time around Bill. Especially on what's essentially a social trip. Stanley can... handle it better."

"Oh," Mabel said. "That makes sense, I guess."

Ford glanced uneasily at Bill's papers, then looked away before Mabel could see.

He was so caught up in his own shame at getting caught toeing at one of Bill's traps, he didn't notice the quick shameful look on Mabel's face for the same reason.

####

(Thanks for reading! Please drop a comment or reblog if you enjoyed, y'all's commentary is what helps keep me writing. ❤️

Also I feel like Google translate can handle the Latin pretty well if you wanna see what Bill's saying at the start, but it's important to me that you know Google is wrong about "quadrum defututum" and it can actually be more accurately translated as "you square slut.")

[lkaluna]

He plans on building himself a cabin in the woods, away from civilization and regaining the contact with others slowly. 

If it were his decision, Maedhros would probably go on and start appearing publicly again, but it might be kinder on other people not to. He’s relearning self-control and respecting boundaries, he’s not going to leap into politics immediately. (He will get into politics again soon, that much he is sure of, just not perhaps this soon.)

The cabin in the woods sound more appalling every time he thinks about it. Too far away from people, how is he meant to re-accustom others to his presence when there are no others around?

He mentions so much to Caranthir the next time he ends up laying on his brother’s couch, smoking some suspicious leaves Amrod apparently dropped of a few weeks earlier and Moryo just laughs. 

„We have a house on Tol Eressea. My wife hates the island, but the taxes for selling property there are horrendous.”

„You’re offering I could stay there?”

„Transferring property to family is free. Promise to reimburse us sensibly once you are able and it’s yours.”

„Your wife won’t mind?”

„She’s been offering the house to every reasonable relative, you’re the first who even considers it. Trust me, she’ll be delighted”

„You know, you were always my favorite brother”

(In a hindsight, he should have probably asked why does his sister in law hate this house so much.)

The first time he saw her, Maedhros was convinced he had seen a ghost.

(She lives on this island, it’s the newest, biggest market they just opened. Why should she not be there?)

(If only he haven’t seen her on bloody a marketplace before.)

The second time it happens, Elwing sees him too and freezes. He considers approaching and apologizing, but Fingon keeps giving him the talks about giving people space, so instead he just nods and gets out of there.

(He considers mentioning that meeting to Fingon, but decides against it. They are only starting to be at ease with one another again and that would worry him too much.)

They keep running at one-another and he knows she’s uncomfortable. He is too. For a brief moment, he plans on giving up this doubtful pleasure (really, new market or not, why are there so many people there, all buying spices?) and going back to shopping on a smaller, local market but then she deliberately snatches the last pink melon from the stand after seeing him reach for it and that really pisses him off. 

(Fingon was going to visit, and considering how one flavor he always adored was that of pink Vanyarin melons, Maedhros really doesn’t think he can be blamed for his later actions.)

A week later, he overhears her talking to a woman he can only assume to be Galadriel’s daughter about needing to buy cloves for Earendil’s favorite dish and promptly makes sure to purchase all the remaining ones.

It’s a war now and there’s no knowing who will break down first.

Afterwards, it would be foolish not to expect a retaliation, so the next time Fingon visits he makes sure to get to the market extra early. He reaches the melon-seller, just to be informed that all of the fruits have already been sold out.

A seagull laughs at him.

Better person would have given in. Luckily, he really doubts that Elwing sees him as a better person.

He persuades Caranthir to help him bribe the vendor into sending the next month’s delivery of cloves directly to his house.

(In a hindsight, the unfortunate chain of the house’s ownership is to be blamed on birds. They shit on the porch constantly. Elwing really does not control the local pigeons (but will not, under any condition, ask them to stop, not while he is holding the cloves hostage). It’s not her fault he moved into this neighborhood. They even exchange a couple of semi-polite letters on this matter.)

A couple of years latter, Elrond almost gets an aneurysm after coming across his mother and Maedhros shopping together and discussing which of the vendors has the best tomatoes. 

[lovecanyon]

Curious Gazes: The 79th Venice International Film Festival featuring Dad!Harry

venice looks!

harry_lambert wants to message you!

A gasp left Chiara’s mouth as she stared down at her phone. The notification must have been a glitch, apps glitch all the time…right? Why would one of the most important stylists message her? All her worrying had her nibbling on her lip nervously.

She had to find out what he wanted. Swiftly her thumb swiped to accept the DM to reveal Harry Lambert’s message to her. Her heart leaped out of her chest once she saw three long paragraphs on her screen.

Dropping out of college to become a freelance makeup artist wasn’t something she planned on doing. Being in debt over school had her worrying about every little thing so she ended up quitting her third year at NYU.

Her parents did not take it well at first but over the years they’ve learned to support her makeup artist job, thankfully.

“Holy…sh—“

The blonde slaps her hand over her mouth as she continues to read the messages over and over to check if her eyes are deceiving her. Why would someone this important want to work with her? Even his client wanted to work with her…wait who was his client anyway?

In a hurry she taps to get onto Harry Lambert's Instagram page but her shitty Wi-Fi stops her.

With a groan Chiara stands up frustratedly and starts to walk in circles. Before giving up on her Wi-Fi she stubs her toe, stuffs her face with marshmallows and even makes crappy popcorn on her stove.

When her internet goes out she either falls asleep and prays it will be back on when she wakes up or she uses her neighbor's Wi-Fi. She would’ve used her neighbors connection but they’ve already yelled at her countless times for slowing down their internet.

So the most sane thing to do was go to a cafe and use up all their free Wi-Fi.

Harry Styles, Florence Pugh, Emma Louise Corrin, Alexander Skarsgård and even Y/N L/N. She almost let out screams at each picture of the celebrities and had to remember she was in a cafe full of people. Swiping back to her direct messages she clicks on the most recent one that had her in shambles.

Hii Chiara I’m Harry Lambert and I was wondering if you are free the first week of September? Me and my client would love to work with you…

Too jittery to read everything the hundredth time, her shaky hands type out a response. It took her about 20 tries to type a decent message without making it seem like she’s freaking out—which she still was doing.

Once she hit send, she shoved her phone in her back pocket apprehensively and rushed out of the cafe nervously. It felt like she was in highschool and just sent a risky text.

Instead on waiting on a message, Chiara does a bunch of things to distract her but nothing could take her mind off of Harry fucking Lambert messaging her.

While her hands were covered in clay and thinking about the business opportunity she may have, she felt a buzz in her back pocket. Almost instantly she shoots up from her seat and turns off the pottery machine. Everyone else in the room was too busy to notice a blonde rushing out of the building with a towel wrapped around her hands.

“Yes!”

She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Harry Lambert just gave her his and Alessandro Michele’s phone numbers for confirmation. The amount of excitement she felt was insane, never in her 22 years of life has she felt this giddy. Everything was finally turning good for her.

-

If you would’ve told her she would be getting on a private jet with Harry Styles and Y/N L/N, Chiara would’ve laughed in your face. But watching Y/N L/N and Harry Styles help their children out of their Range Rover through the jet window had her mouth hanging open in shock.

First of all she would’ve been fine with a regular plane ticket, yet Harry Lambert told her Y/N and Harry insisted on having her join their plane ride to Venice.

Oh yeah…she was going to Venice precisely to do Y/N’s makeup for The Venice Film Festival. She absolutely lost her shit of course. She never imagined doing someone’s makeup for one of the most prominent film festival’s yet here she was sitting on a jet seat.

While people were still boarding—none of them being the acclaimed couple—Chiara recognized some as the people that were on Y/N’s social media feed, she knew one of the guys sporting a backpack was Harry’s manager and the other being his photographer, Anthony.

She didn’t know how she was going to handle this for two whole days, hopefully she wouldn’t weird anyone out with her talkative persona.

“Excuse me Ms?”

The makeup artist looks up to find a flight attendant beaming down at her. As the blonde was going to give the air hostess a smile, she stopped herself.

Her eyes widened recognizing the person standing in front of her. Out of all people, why did her high school tormenter have to be Harry Styles’ stewardess. The girl that tortured her every single day when she was a teenager was stood right in front of her face.

The only thing she wished to do at this moment was disappear but she couldn’t, her body stayed put in the jet seat.

“Julie?” Chiara furrows her brows trying to sport the nicest smile ever. She didn’t know why her mind was telling her to play nice, she just hoped that ‘Julie’ or ‘Julia Calloway’ changed for the better. Yet she knew that wasn’t true once she saw a sour look crawl onto Julie’s face, the same sour look she saw everyday in school.

As the stewardess was about to respond to the makeup artist a bunch of people started to talk. Both of their attention swiftly diverted to the couple making their way inside the jet with their children.

It was like their prayers had been answered.

“Uh I got to go!” Julie says rushing away, not waiting for the blonde's response.

Chiara lets out a sigh of relief as she watches the air hostess greet Harry’s manager Jeffrey and Harry Lambert. The amount of industry people getting on the jet made her palms sweat. She had to hold her breath at Alessandro Michele revealing himself behind Tommy. The creative director of Gucci was here—she was in the presence of the creative director of Gucci.

But the next individuals made her freeze in her chair.

One Direction was big in her childhood. She always regretted not going to their concerts before they broke up and went solo. Though she knew going to their shows didn’t compare to being in the same vicinity as Harry Styles. This felt very unreal to her.

Harry had his arm wrapped around Y/N’s waist while his other arm held up a carrier—who Chiara assumed held their daughter Inez. A little boy stood in front of the couple and quickly darted to one of the jet seats followed by his backpack dragging behind him.

He must’ve been Beau since he looked exactly like Harry, he truly was his twin like everyone said. It felt illegal looking at his son without a strawberry emoji covering his face.

The makeup artist didn’t expect to get greeted by the mother but she did and it made her shoot up from her chair. She didn’t want to be rude to the person that offered to take her on their private jet with them.

“Chiara right?” Y/N smiles as she glances at Harry placing down the carrier on a seat next to Beau.

“U-uh yes! That is me.” Chaira says enthusiastically and quickly regrets her peppy tone but the woman standing in front of her just smiled brightly. “Sorry for being this excited at six thirty in the morning—“

“Hey, no it’s fine!” Y/N reassures the blonde which makes her grin. “Harry is a morning person so I’m used to it.”

Just as Chiara was going to speak, a loud cry came from the carrier. Harry, who looked stressed out—and definitely not like a morning person—swiftly picked up his daughter. Looking at Chiara, Y/N nods politely and excuses herself to the row across from her. Almost instantly she swoops up Inez in her arms which quiets her cries. Just the way her daughter stopped crying when she picked her up showed how she was such a good mother.

If Chiara even held a baby or got near one they would cry. Y/N had amazing mother abilities.

With people still getting situated on the jet, the blonde tries not to stare at the couple keeping their children entertained with a few stuffed animals and coloring books. She knew both Inez and Beau were going to grow up beautifully, they had great parents that would do anything for them.

Even though she hasn't greeted Harry yet, she was aware of him being one of the nicest celebrities ever.

Watching Harry and Y/N’s team get everything into place before takeoff was interesting. Jeff looked excited as he kept talking to Lambert about the couples outfits, Tommy was typing away on his phone most likely making sure everything was together when they arrived to Venice, Alessandro moved to sit with the beloved couple and their kids—which almost made Chiara scream—and Anthony was taking pictures of the morning sunset through the plane’s window.

This team went together perfectly.

As everyone was in their own conversations, Chiara noticed Julie looking at her with squinted eyes. Though before anything happens, the pilot announces takeoff and requests everyone to shut off their devices. Once she turns off her phone she looks up to find the stewardess gone. Letting out a sigh of relief, she lays her head back on the seat and decides to take a nap to avoid her tormentor.

It was just her luck.

-

The jet jolting made Chiara curse under her breath. She didn’t know why she was tired for some reason. Hopefully she could sleep more before—

“And we have arrived in Venice. Enjoy your stay folks.”

Shit.

Looking around, Chiara finds everybody grabbing ahold of their items, most likely getting ready to leave the plane. In the corner of her eye she sees Jeff and Tommy move forward to help Harry and Y/N with their luggage.

Right as she was going to pull out her suitcase, she sees a bunch of security making their way out of the airport and to the jet. About seven or eight men stood by the stairs of the plane, patiently waiting for the next celebrities they needed to guard.

Just the way Harry, Y/N and their kids needed that much security made her suck in a breath. Tomorrow was definitely going to be hectic.

Now with her suitcase in hand, the makeup artist stands up and waits for everyone to make their way out of the plane. As she stands by waiting, she makes eye contact with the person who she was dreading the most. She didn’t know what the red head was up to—hopefully she wasn’t up to anything.

Quickly looking away from her, Chiara makes her way to the woman that gave her this job and offers Y/N if she needs any help with anything. But before she could respond, Harry butts in with a shake of his head.

“It’s fine I got it. Thank you though.” Harry tells her, smiling. As he was about to walk down the aisle, he quickly rushed back and grabbed Y/N’s tote bag that was clearly holding a lot of things. That action made her kiss his cheek before he rushed off with Jeffrey and Lambert.

“Sorry that Harry hasn’t formally introduced himself. He’s really jittery and worried about the whole red carpet situation.” Y/N softly smiles at her hired makeup artist.

Red carpet situation?

“Sorry to ask but…red carpet situation?”

She could tell Y/N was hesitant to answer and that made her nervous, yet the woman walking up behind the mother of two made her heart beat—even more faster than it already was. Not wanting to talk to the flight attendant, she quickly dismisses herself to Y/N and tells her she will see her when they get off the jet. Once she receives a smile and a nod she races down the aisle.

She’s not going to put herself through hell, again.

With the help of another flight attendant, Chiara makes it on concrete with her suitcase. Moving to stand next to Lambert, she watches Harry race back inside the jet.

“Amazing, huh?”

Turning her head, she finds Alessandro Michele staring down at her. Being under his stare made her want to cry and run away but she stayed put and nodded. How does one talk to the creative director of Gucci?

“Yes. I can’t believe this is still happening.” She says with a smile. “I’m so honored to be apart of this team.”

“Well get used to it. Y/N seriously adores you which means you might be permanently apart of her and Harry’s team.” Alessandro playfully nudges her, making her smile grow.

For about fifteen minutes she stands there with the biggest grin ever, Harry however now appears at the top of the stairs with Beau in his hold and a small backpack—most likely Beau’s—slung over his shoulder. Before making his way down the jet stairs, he glances back at someone who turns out to be Y/N holding their daughter. She gives him a smile which makes him begin to walk down the airstairs with his son in his grasp.

As they make it to the last step, Chiara realizes the couple changed their outfits including Beau and Inez.

Harry now had a deep purple blazer over the green/pink Gucci cardigan he already was wearing beforehand and blue jeans instead of the grey sweats he previously had on. Rather than the Love on Tour hoodie and biker shorts, Y/N now was dressed in a purple sundress that had an open back and switched up her Adidas for a pair of white sandals.

What Inez and Beau had on almost made the makeup artist awe out loud. Both were in purple like their parents but Inez had on this ruffle dress that had her fingers playing with the fabric and Beau wore these white trousers paired with a shirt that had a flower printed on it.

“Cutest family ever!”

“Bellissima!”

-

“Please come, I really want you there.”

“I really don’t want to sit in a room full of reporters and paparazzi.” Y/N pouts playfully making Harry breathe out a laugh. “I will be here once you get back. I promise.”

Harry sits on his knees for a couple more seconds before nodding slowly. Standing up, he slightly bends down and places a kiss on Y/N’s forehead.

“Alright darling. I’ll see you when I get back.” Harry smiles nodding at his fiancé. Once Lambert opens the door, Jeffrey walks out of the hotel room followed by Tommy, Anthony and of course Harry. Yet he stops himself in the doorway, blowing Y/N and his children a kiss before getting pushed out by his stylist.

Chiara smiled at the couple's interaction. They both were so cute together that it made her wish she had a relationship like theirs. She had read about the two being each other’s soulmates and thought it was all bullshit—since every celebrity couple broke up within 10 years. But there was something about Harry and Y/N that just proved they were going to be together forever.

As Y/N moves to the bed where her children were watching a Disney movie on her iPad, Chiara decides to start unpacking her makeup supplies. Being in a room alone with Y/N soon to be Styles and her kids made her anxious—though after Alessandro words from yesterday repeated in her head, she realized she had nothing really to worry about.

The amount of products the makeup artist brought was insane but she wanted to be prepared for any look that Y/N wanted. Doing an A List celebrity’s makeup for one of the most prestigious movie festivals made her bite her lip trying to hide her excitement.

“I’m almost done setting up the station, I just need to go grab your clothes from Alessandro’s room.” Chiara turns to the mother looking down at her children with a smile.

“No need getting the clothes from his room, I’ll have Harry pick them up on the way back.” Y/N softly shakes her head which makes Chiara’s tense shoulders drop. This Y/N woman was amazing. The majority of the people she worked with were just plain rude to her. Yet here Y/N was giving her fiancé the tasks that were given to the makeup artist.

“Thank you, seriously. I don’t even know where the room is.” She smiles making Y/N laugh.

-

Right when the tv lights up with the press conference, both Y/N and Chiara get situated on the couch while Beau and Inez stay seated on the bed, playing with their stuffed animals. The blonde was still surprised when Y/N asked if she wanted to watch the conference with her.

The cast one by one gets introduced as they walk in. Chiara notices a small grin on Y/N's face when Harry nods and waves. She yearned for a relationship like theirs.

“Look at daddy guys!” Y/N points to the screen which makes Beau smile. He whispers something quickly to his sister making her look up to the tv. The amount of features they got from Harry was baffling. Green eyes, dimpled smile and curly haired all reminded the makeup artist of their father. You could immediately tell they were apart of the Styles family.

It was cute the way the two siblings interacted. Most famous children acted like brats which she hated to admit, but it was the truth. Beau had even greeted her and the team the first minute he walked in with his parents and sister. He had way better manners than most adults and that said a lot.

As the press conference continues on, Y/N and Chiara’s stay seated on the couch watching the cast answer questions. The blonde sat beside the mother of two could tell she was growing annoyed at the questions being asked—specifically to Harry.

Where is your fiancé?

How does Y/N feel about the sexual scenes in the movie?

Is your fiancé pregnant again?

When are you both getting married, have you set an official date?

Now Chiara understood why Y/N didn’t want to attend the press conference with Jeffrey. The press was truly invasive.

“Shit. I don’t know how we’re gonna bring Bee and Nez.” Y/N mumbles to herself standing up. With furrowed brows the makeup artist stops herself from asking anything. Maybe that was the red carpet circumstance she tried to bring up earlier. “I don’t think you know about the whole situation for the red carpet…Do you?”

“I think you were trying to tell me yesterday but we both got interrupted.” She shakes her head making Y/N nod.

“Well, H and I decided to take Inez and Beau to the premiere with us. But I’m afraid of how paparazzi and fans will react.” Y/N sighs leaning back onto the couch arm. Chiara widened her eyes at that news. The Styles children had their identities hidden ever since they were born and them making a debut at the premiere sounded surprising—very surprising.

The blonde felt for the mother. She must’ve been so stressed about bringing them to the film festival with her and Harry. The amount of press, fans and paparazzi probably had her nervous about the whole situation.

“I think it’s going to be fine.” Chiara reassures Y/N. “Harry is really protective over you three.”

“That he definitely is.” Y/N smiles glancing at Beau bonding with Inez. She just needed to be reassured by Harry that it was all going to go well. Bringing their children to a red carpet event had her palms sweating. But attending the premiere with Harry calmed her nerves because she knew he would protect her and the kids, like he always has done.

Nobody really knew about Beau and Inez attending since Harry called it top secret. Not even the makeup artist on the team knew until Y/N told her just a few minutes ago. This was definitely going to be a surprise to everyone.

Once the conference ends, Y/N decides to start getting ready since the premiere was happening in less than two hours.

With Inez in her lap and Beau distracted by a Disney movie playing on the television, Y/N discusses a bunch of makeup looks with Chiara. Going through the makeup artist’s camera roll had the mother wanting to do about ten different makeup looks all at once. Finally, after about changing their mind multiple times, they both settle on a 60s inspired look

Sharon Tate’s iconic eyeliner was the inspiration for the look and Chiara couldn’t be more excited.

-

Watching Y/N swipe pink and blue glittery eyeshadow on Beau’s eyelids was the most adorable thing ever. When the little voice interrupted Chiara doing Y/N’s makeup and asked if he could wear makeup too, it made her heart melt. So of course Y/N traded her seat for the floor and let her son take her seat with his sister.

Now with a giggly Inez leaning against her brother’s chest, their mother hovers over them with an eyeshadow brush while Chiara stands next to her holding about five different eye shadow palettes.

The makeup artist loved the way Y/N let Beau express himself especially as a child. She was just an overall amazing mother.

“Hmmm…more pink.” Beau lisps looking at the mirror Y/N was holding up for him. She smiles nodding, dipping the eyeshadow brush in the pallet Chiara was holding up for her. Adding more pink color to Beau’s eyelids had Y/N grinning like a proud mother.

“You look so handsome, my love!” The mother says making Beau beam.

Just as Y/N stood up, the hotel room door opens revealing Harry dragging a rack of clothes followed by his team. The sight made Chiara’s eyes widen. Y/N actually told him to get the clothes she was supposed to get. Y/N truly was a godsend.

With the help of their mother, Beau and Inez quickly jump down from the chair and rush to their father. Almost instantly Harry drops down to his knees and holds open his arms. Once the two children were in his hold, a huge smile grew on Harry’s face. You could tell he loved and adored his children. Just the way he dropped everything to hug them was so cute.

“Oh! I love your makeup Bee.” Harry smiles lovingly which makes Beau grin ear to ear.

“Mama did it!” The Styles child says making Harry look up and make eye contact with his fiancé. Y/N bites her lip suppressing a smile.

“Mama is just the best right?!” Harry giggles ruffling his son's blonde hair. Beau nods agreeing with his father. The makeup artist almost let out an awe at the moment. Both boys were so appreciative of Y/N, it was the sweetest thing ever. “And look at this little cutie in her pink robe.”

“Gucci!” Inez’s high pitched voice shouts. Y/N laughs shaking her head, Harry just had to teach their daughter how to say Gucci.

“Yes, darling!” Lambert cheers as he unwraps the plastic that protected the clothes hanging on the rack. Chiara loved this environment. It was the most positive space ever.

As everyone begins to get ready for the premiere—Y/N continues to get ready. Clothes are starting to be laid out, Anthony is rearranging all the cameras he was going to take and Jeff makes sure everything is in order before the time arrives for the event. Everything seemed amazing in Chiara’s opinion.

While Y/N finishes getting her makeup done, Harry is sitting right by her legs playing with their children. The amount of stuffed animals the two brought overseas was insanely cute. Watching the family interact genuinely made a smile appear on the makeup artist’s face. Their type of bond was the strongest ever, not like those types of celebrity families that just acted like a fake family in front of cameras.

Just as Chiara is finishing up the makeup look she notices Harry’s hand laid on Y/N’s thigh as she messes around with his rings—including his extravagant engagement ring. The couple’s sweet little gestures made the blonde believe in the word love again.

-

“Baby could you help me put my gloves on?”

Chirara widened her eyes at Y/N walking in the room with both children perched on her hip. She looked stunning in her blue gown, so stunning that it made Harry stand there with his mouth slightly ajar. The makeup artist couldn’t blame him though. Y/N took her breath away too.

“Yes, darling.” Harry smiles helping her place their two already dressed kids on the couch. Once the parents made sure Beau and Inez had nothing around them that could dirty their pretty outfits, Harry grabbed the gloves hanging from the rack. Chiara quickly recognized the blue suit Harry had on was the same suit Beau was wearing and the gown Y/N wore was the same as Inez’s gown.

They were all matching—the father and son were matching and the mother and daughter were matching. That was just so fucking cute.

Watching Harry help Y/N put her gloves on was the sweetest thing ever. He would look up at her to make sure he wasn’t hurting her and when she would nod, encouraging him to continue he just smiled. It was just the little things that had Chiara wishing she had a relationship like theirs.

After Y/N has the blue fabric on her arms, she and Harry then switch to put Inez’s gloves on. The smiley baby showcasing her gums had no clue what her parents were rolling on her arms and she did not seem to care. Once the blue gloves are on Nez’s chubby arms, Harry slobbers a kiss on her cheek which makes her giggle.

Right as Jeff announced the boat was waiting for the couple and their children, Harry bends down onto his knees—which makes Lambert suck in a breath—grabbing Y/N’s blue heels and slips them on her feet.

That action had Chiara’s mouth drop. Y/N didn’t even ask him to put her heels on. Nobody was a gentleman like Harry was. He treated his fiancé and kids so well.

Beau jumping around in the same shoes Harry had on—white boots with a red heart printed on the side of them—looked adorable. The little boy definitely was a clone of his father’s. The curly hair, green eyes and dimpled smile was all from Harry.

“Let’s take a quick shot of you guys!”

Anthony holds out his camera as Y/N and Harry pose for the photo with Beau and Inez in their grasp. When Anthony gets about a dozen pictures of the family, everyone begins to get ready to leave. Before he makes his way out of the hotel room, Harry whispers to his photographer to send him all the photos he took.

Now walking out of the hotel room and into the elevator with everyone had Chiara’s nerves growing. She couldn’t imagine how Harry and Y/N were feeling.

It takes a few seconds to get to the lobby and once those lift doors open, the couple holding their children walk out followed by the team. Ironically the hotel had a distance to The Venice Film Festival which meant they had to take a boat and then a car to get to the prominent event.

And it didn’t help the fact that they were about twenty minutes late.

-

“They said he’s not coming.”

Ludo widens her eyes as she slips her phone in her back pocket. Leaning on the barricade railing she replies to her friend. Harry Styles was not coming to his own premiere?

“I hope he does.” Ludo says glancing back at the red carpet that has the cast of Don’t Worry Darling circling it. The amount of people that were behind the barricade were waiting for the familiar musician. Yet there have been rumors of him not going to attend.

Just as she was hearing whispers about Harry not showing, a car pulled up to the red carpet. Even though it could be literally anyone, people began to scream their heads off. Right as the car doors open revealing the person everyone waiting for, the screams multiply and grow louder. This was the moment Ludo was here for.

Though, watching Harry round the car and opening the opposite vehicle door made her confused as well as everyone else. People in the crowd began to murmur about what he could be doing.

But once the crowd saw a child in his arms, they all began screaming more than they did before. Yet nothing could’ve prepared Ludo for this next moment. A hand grabs onto Harry’s as he helps them get out of the car, when the teenage girl saw who was wearing the blue gown and platform heels, she gasps covering her mouth with her hand.

Y/N L/N was holding her daughter Inez who was wearing the same gown she was. Seeing the mother and daughter duo matching made Ludo let out an awe. Even Harry and his son were matching!

With an arm wrapped around her waist, Harry and Y/N began to walk down the red carpet with their children. It was insane seeing the Styles children faces without a fruit emoji covering their identity. Ludo was in shock at the way Beau looked exactly like Harry. The little boy had the same green eyes and smile—they even had the same dimples. It was the most adorable thing ever.

Inez too! Even though she was still a baby, she carried a lot of Harry’s features like her big brother did.

“Is Beau wearing eyeshadow?” Someone cries from the crowd. That sentence made everyone began to scream all over again. Looking at the Styles' child with squinted eyes made her realize he was actually wearing pink and blue eyeshadow—sparkly eyeshadow. He looked so cute wearing the bright colors on his eyelids.

As Harry puts down Beau, Y/N puts Inez in his arms after she was making grabby hands towards him. Now holding her son's hand, Y/N follows Harry further down the red carpet where the cast was hanging out.

The amount of camera flashes going off was crazy. Paparazzi were trying to get every angle of the Styles family as well as fans.

Everyone begins to smile and laugh at Inez grabbing Harry’s sunglasses off his face and attempting to put them on herself with her chubby little hands. The musician grins helping his daughter slip on his pair of Gucci sunglasses. Watching the two interact was literally the sweetest thing ever. Even though they had cameras on them, the Styles family seemed to be in their own little world.

Now with sunglasses covering up the majority of her face, Inez gives a gummy grin to Harry which makes the cameras go off wanting to catch the father and daughter moment.

As Harry and Y/N finish taking photos with their children, the four of them begin to get interviewed. Even though Ludo couldn’t hear anything, she could just tell Harry was so happy, giggling over something Y/N was saying. They looked so content with each other.

She had read online about the two being such an amazing couple and seeing them in person just supported that statement. Watching the Styles family interact was literally the most wholesome thing ever.

After their quick interview, Ludo notices Harry’s manager guiding them to the cast ready to take photos.

Y/N tries to walk away with the children but Harry’s arm wrapping around her waist stops her. He whispers something in her ear and points at the cast. Even though the couple and two children already walked down the red carpet, they were going to be in the cast photos—even when they weren’t apart of the Don't Worry Darling cast.

Looking at Y/N greet Florence was the best thing ever. Both of the women looked so excited when they saw each other. The gleam in their eyes as they complemented each other was seriously the cutest thing ever. And when the blonde saw the Styles children her smile widened.

Ludo could see Florence shout oh my god before picking up a giggly Beau. The boy smiles, wrapping his arms around Flo’s shoulders. They both laugh about something together which makes the cameras go off, once again.

The cast now began to get situated to take the final photos of the day. Florence had Beau in her arms as she stood next to Y/N who had Inez in her arms also. Harry went to rewrap his arm around his fiancés waist as he swiftly kissed her cheek which made a smile grow on her face.

The Styles family was truly admirable, everyone loved them.

-

Luna didn’t know why she decided to work for a partying catering service. It was always the rich assholes throwing parties and treating their servers like crap. But if you wanted to get paid on time and earn tips, you just had to smile and nod at whatever people said.

Nonetheless she didn’t expect Y/N L/N to throw her fiancé, Harry goddamn Styles a party to celebrate his new movie that’s coming out quite soon.

She had known Y/N was the most beautiful woman ever and seeing her in person made her mouth go dry. The black dress she was in hugged her body perfectly—and her heels, her heels were to die for. Everything about her just seemed perfect.

Watching Harry and Y/N walk in with friends had Luna’s palms sweating. She literally just went to his shows a few months ago and owned a bunch of his merch. Is she a fan? Of fucking course she is. That’s why she had to go into the kitchen to quietly freak out.

Once she’s calm and collected, she grabs her server plate and heads to the bar. Passing by celebrities seemed insane to Luna. Alessandro Michele, Gemma Chan, Chris Pine and even Florence Pugh had her sucking in her breath. This wasn’t like the old money parties rich men usually threw, this was a celebrity party and it made her more nervous than anything.

A loud childish scream makes her glance up from the drinks that were getting poured. Seeing a little boy with curly hair sitting on top of Harry’s shoulder was the cutest thing ever. She didn’t realize the little boy was Beau until she noticed his dimpled smile. Her smile dropped as she took in what he looked like.

He was literally a miniature Harry Styles. The Me Myself & I + Gucci sweater he had on just proved he was Harry’s son.

“Hey Lu.” Ricky, a server greets his coworker. “Do you know if that woman is single over there? She dropped this cloth on the way—“

“This is a baby’s bib which means she’s not single.” Luna shakes her head looking down at the bib. “And who are you even pointing at?”

“Well not anymore—“

“Who? So I can return this for you.” She cuts him off, making him point his hand at Harry’s direction. Following where he was pointing she widens her eyes.

“That lady in the black dress.” Ricky mumbles, walking off before Luna could scold him for not knowing about Y/N L/N being engaged to Harry Styles. He was the type of guy that had birds for brains.

Walking over to the Styles family hanging out with their friends made her palms sweat and knees weak. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation she tries to slide the fabric onto the table but a man with a familiar cross tattoo on his hand looks at her.

What does one do when Harry Styles looks at them?

“S-sorry my coworker said your fiancé dropped this.” Luna stutters, making Harry smile gratefully. She glances at Y/N sitting in his lap engaging in a conversation with Florence. The blonde actress had a baby in her lap—who was most likely Inez—wearing a blue strawberry dress that reminded her of Harry’s Harryween costume. She’s soon come to the conclusion that it was his costume, just a mini version of it.

“Thank you for returning this. My fiancé was looking for it.” Harry smiles, grabbing the bib off the table.

After nodding and smiling politely, Luna turns around and thinks about the interaction she just had with her favorite singer ever. She will be forever thinking about today.

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @hrryscherrys @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @gublerscherry @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry

[spotsandsocks]

My hand slipped, got stuck on the bus today, almost three hours for what should have been a 30 minute journey so this happened. A tiny fic about how Tia Pepa’s plans for Eddie not to be alone can get the boys together. Just the random thoughts of a spot that’s stuck in traffic, just on mobile so no ao3 link but it’s there

Always There General 1.1k

To Eddie’s relief Christopher’s birthday party is going well, he’d been worried this year, the older Chris gets the harder it is to know what will work but you can’t go wrong with computer games (at least that’s what Buck said and Christopher agreed). Buck had found a video arcade with retro gaming consoles that did private functions.

The plan was a done deal once Chris and Buck checked out the website. It suddenly became the only option Chris would consider and now it’s almost over Eddie has to admit it was a good idea. Everyone has had a great time. Even the adults. Buck has been in his element and Eddie even managed to play on a few of the games with him, Buck sulking when he lost and gloating with every triumph. Eddie didn’t care who won, he was just pleased to see Buck so happy.

Buck lost more frequently when he was playing against Pepa who showed no mercy. Eddie had to stop himself from laughing at Buck’s dismay everytime she won. Pepa had been persuaded to stay around after she dropped off Christopher’s gift . Buck had challenged her to some racing game and she was hooked. She’s still here now watching the kids and Buck have fun with a smile on her face.

He’s too busy watching Buck to notice his Tia’s attention is divided. Buck suddenly checks his watch and bounces over.

“Pizza should be here soon. You wanna get them off the games and I’ll go wait for it”

Eddie laughs, “Nice try! You can get them together and I’ll go wait for pizza!

I’m not separating a bunch of 12 year olds from their games, this was your idea!”

Buck yells “Hey no fair!” after him but it’s too late. He's already moving away with a grin that widens as he hears Pepa say “Don’t worry Buck you have me, even if my nephew wants to run away from the hard jobs, we’ve got it covered.”

Eddie’s actually impressed when he returns with pizza to see everyone ready. Buck leaps up as soon as he sees him and takes half the pizza boxes off him. Together they distribute the food and snatch a few pieces for themselves. He has to slap Buck’s hand away from his pizza a few times as he tries to steal his extra mushrooms.

His complaint that if some people wanted mushrooms they should order mushrooms falls on deaf ears and makes both Buck and Pepa laugh.

A quick check of his watch reveals the kids have another 30 minutes of arcade fun left which Buck supervises as Eddie clears up.

Despite the success of it all he’s glad it’s nearly over, he's looking forward to getting home and having a well deserved beer with Buck. Maybe he can persuade him to stay over. Shouldn’t be too hard.

A voice interrupts his thoughts,“Do you and Christopher want to come back to mine, open his presents there?”

He answers Pepa without much thought “Thanks but Buck is coming home with us tonight , Chris wants to open his presents with us there.”

Eyes drifting towards Buck and Chris again he fails to notice the slightly amused twist to Pepa’s lips.

A little later Buck joins them, “Hey, Ty’s mom just texted to say she’s stuck at work and could we drop him off. I said that’s fine, it’s on the way back anyway. Do you wanna keep an eye on them, I’m just gonna start putting the gifts in the jeep.”

Eddie nods “Ok, I’ll tell Chris they’ve got 10 more minutes,” Then with a smile Buck disappears and Eddie watches him leave.

When he turns back he’s confronted by his with a look and as if the face isn’t bad enough she slaps him lightly on the chest.

He frowns back “What? What’s that look for and why you hitting me?

“Because I was worried, you let me think you were all alone.” The scoffing noise she makes is very familiar.

“Why did you let me set you up with that nice girl when you already have someone? Eddie, shame on you, raising her hopes when you’re already taken.”

He briefly considers the possibility that Pepa’s been drinking “I’m taken? What? I’m I’m lost”

She’s not listening, “Why? Do you not trust your Tia?! You think I would disapprove of that lovely, lovely man?! Eddie!! I’m hurt.” She shakes her head again.

His eyes flick towards the door. “Are are we talking about Buck?”

“Are we talking about Buck?!” Hands wave and tap his cheek not exactly gently but not so much it hurts.

“Yes I am talking about your partner, your Buck. Christopher’s Buck too. Eddie, open your eyes. I am no longer worried about you being alone. You have not been alone and you should have told me so! There will be no more blind dates! I expect you to get your own,” there’s an ominous pause. “and soon!”

Then she kisses his cheek and is gone and he’s left in the wake of a mild epiphany.

Buck bounces in a few moments later. “I saw Pepa leave and Jake and Gab’s parents are parking. I’ll go tell the kids.” Buck pauses and frowns “You ok? You look weird”

He shakes himself. Pepa wants him to get out there, find someone that he can be happy with. Now she thinks he’s found that someone.

Buck��s still looking at him, frown getting more intense the longer he waits. Eddie knows exactly what Buck will do next, he’ll close the distance between them, touch his arm, look him in the eye and ask him again if he’s ok with nothing but concern and affection, no, with love in his heart.

Suddenly the idea of letting someone into his life isn’t so scary, and that’s probably because he let someone in years ago and just hadn’t noticed but his Tia had and she’s never wrong. Get himself a date, he actually thinks he might be able to do that.

“Hey Buck, you wanna have dinner with me. Just us.”

The look that falls over Buck’s face can only be called hope.

“Ju Just us?”

Eddie nods “Just us.”

“Like a…?”

He nods again, “If you wanna?

Buck bites his lips together, then a smile breaks free.

“Yeah I do wanna. I I really do.”

Something warm spreads through Eddie’s body and he thinks Oh. Oh this is how you’re supposed to feel when you have a date; excited and happy and so full of hope you could burst.

Then parents are arriving and children are leaving and Buck’s busy dealing with everything with a smile on his face and Eddie knows he’s not going to be alone, hasn’t actually been alone for years.

Turns out dating isn’t a problem as long as you find the right person and without any doubt in his heart Eddie looks at Buck and knows he has.

[redleavesinthewind]

elliot's 2023 fic wrap up

2022 version

alright friends it is once again time for me to review the (many) fics i read in the previous year and try to write a more or less concise rec list of my absolute faves (i wish i didn't have to chose but heh i'm not gonna subject anyone to 332 fics in 1 post - also wait only 332 fics? that's like. over 100 less than last year, what the fuck. anyway)

okay now first the part that interests no one but me (yes you may skip this) and that's the numbers part! i'm not making a whole elaborate spreadsheet to then not throw around cool numbers. anyway.

i've read around 4,932k words in 332 fics across 18 fandoms. that is much less than last year, and yeah, i've been generally less productive in 2023 but we don't have to talk about it. at least i have more variety of fandoms this time (let's ignore that it's only 2 more and also that from fandom 13 on there's only 1 fic per fandom)

i started out the year strong with 847k words across 72 fic in february (followed by 753k across 42 fics in january, and 621k words across 63 fics in march). it goes downhill for the rest of the year. eh it wasn't my year so what! 2024 is gonna be more filled with fic reading again!!!

my top 3 fandoms are so entirely unsurprising to me i am almost disappointed in myself. when did i become so predictable. top fandom is young royals with 166 fics! congratulations young royals, you are a very persistent hyperfixation, you didn't peter out after 2 months like i expected. Spot number 2 is taken by avatar the last airbender with 41 fics! giant leap there, but it's also funny because i fell into an atla rabbit hole late 2023 (as i do every few years) and it still got up to 41 fics despite uni not allowing me to read last semester (uni is evil). Same as last year, spn takes third place with 38 fics. speaking of persistent hyperfixations.......... *big sigh*

and that is it the boring part is over let's go to the fun section LET'S REC SOME FIIIIIICCCCSSSSSSS (under the cut)

JANUARY

bet you you'll ... (noraverse) (series) by @gh0sthugs | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 52k words

a kid fic!! and such a sweet one too! i'm kinda weak for kid fics ngl, and nora is so sweet and wonderful, and the relationship that slowly forms between wille and simon is beautiful and comfortable. this whole series is just such a good time

spreadsheet notes: ah to fall in love with the dilf next door who also happens to be the ex crown prince of the country

A Royal Intervention by AnxiousAnaconda | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 18k words

erik is being such a dumbass in this one. like, he means well, but he's kinda messing up and pissing people off (understandably). it's nice to get a view on erik that's not portraying him as this perfect guy though, and the fic is actually so much fun to read. and hey, the prime minister of luxembourg gets mentioned, which i was kinda waiting for in yr fic ngl

spreadsheet notes: big sigh... erik you fucking idiot. stop listening to august. also shoutout to xavier bettel apparently (edit: this aged poorly, fuck xavier bettel)

and each slow dusk by @if-fortunate | young royals, wilmon | mature | 49k words

okay. ooookay how do i even begin with this one. ohhh boy. okay. so. world war three. wille gets stuck in bjärstad with simon, many many things happen, it's about finding hope in a horrible situation and trying to live life despite everything falling apart around you. it's incredibly well written and something about it just has me in awe

spreadsheet notes: i don't know what it says about me that this is without a shadow of a doubt the best fic i have ever read in my life

Put Me Back Together and Take My Heart by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 50k words

i once again don't know what to say, this one is sooo good. simon is suffering and both wille and i hate it, but... but wille is there for him and ugh, they just... they just can't be apart. a story of reconciliation and healing from both physical and invisible wounds, and of making the right decisions for yourself

spreadsheet notes: ugh. UGH. my guys. MY GUYS. yeah let's go blackmail the queen

Department Six by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf | gen | 4k words

a fun short one about stiles and danny working for the fbi and being delightfully weird and mysterious

spreadsheet notes: HILARIOUS i'm in love with outsider pov always

FEBRUARY

There Are No Wolves in California by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf, sterek | gen | 5k words

you know, sometimes you see a fic you know is going to hurt you, and you've never clicked on anything faster. this is definitely one of those fics

spreadsheet notes: let's be wolves today yeah well derek what if i just break down and cry instead

you got my body, i got your body by @prince-simon | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 9k words

this one's technically part of a bigger series (which, definitely read that one too), but i'm highlighting this one cause... damn... this made me feel things... like, gender things... which is really weird cause wille's gender in this is very much different from mine BUT STILL

spreadsheet notes: how almost 9k of pwp gave me so many gender feelings i will never understand

Changing Channels: Queer Premiere by @emeraldcas, @fellshish | spn, deancas | gen | 27k words

this might actually be one of the funniest fics i've ever read. dean and cas are so stupid (affectionately) and all the crossovers are delightful (bonus that i knew all the other shows). everyone go read this it's gonna be the best time

spreadsheet notes: mel and fells have genuinely outdone themselves this is the most hilarious shit i've ever read

Catalyst by @stretchoutfics | young royals | teen&up | 3k words

a backstory for boris! this fic is within a series of other side character ficlets, but this one has a soft spot in my heart

spreadsheet notes: AAAAHHHH HE KNEW ABOUT THE RECKLESS DRIVING BUT DIDN'T BRING IT UP but also... him being a gay man trying to help the queer crown prince navigate his sexuality that's kinda nice actually, like boris understands at least a bit

The most beautiful boy by lovelysarcastic | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 88k words

there's something incredibly grounding about this fic. the way it develops, the way wille rationalises his thought processes, the way the relationship between wille and simon develops... this fic just kinda sucked me in and spit me out again feeling... content and calm and... it's just... this fic is so beautiful

spreadsheet notes: dude i love this so much??? they're both so stupid??? i love them???

MARCH

All's Fair in Love and Hunting by @badjoices | spn, deancas | mature | 20k words

they're playing gay chicken but also are being incredibly competitive and stupid about it, and i'm just sorry about the shit sam has to witness. so many shenanigans in this fic

spreadsheet notes: they are both so stupid omg

["mi cotufita" started sharing their screen] by @omar-rudeberg | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 60k

so... this is a follow up to one of my favourite fics and it is a delight. very horny but also very sweet? and also for some reason there's porn. fun times! oh, and this fic made me cry. it really has the range

spreadsheet notes: how are they so horny it's so funnyyyyyy, but also if i were wille i could never look linda in the eyes again

A Light To Guide You In The Dark (Warmed By The Fire's Glow) by 80shairmetal | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 19k words

this is just... people taking care of each other out of the kindness of their hearts. finding comfort in strangers who become family. growing and helping each other. there's such a beauty to this one

spreadsheet notes: this is just..... comfort

did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise? by @tooindecisivetopickaurl | young royals, wilmon | mature | 67k words

fake dating my beloved. they're so in love with each other but they're pretending not to be while pretending... to be? i'm obsessed with them. but they're so respectful with each other and cautious of boundaries and they really are best friends who also happen to be obliviously in love

spreadsheet notes: love a good fake dating au they're so stupid i love them

flash like a setting sun by @playedwright | 911, buddie | explicit | 22k words

because you only realise you're in love with your best friend when you're scared you're losing him. that's the fic. and it's beautiful

spreadsheet notes: oh this is sooooo beautifully written and ugh just <333

Other people's secrets by @sflow-er | young royals, walty & wilmon | mature | 239k words

yooooo hello? so first off this is an outsider pov on wilmon which i am always obsessed with anyways but the focus isn't just on them, this is henry's story. it's a beautiful story about how friendships form and warp and change, how feelings manifest in different ways, how decisions and actions have consequences. it's an incredibly mature take on post-s1, and it's probably my favourite of the year. also ace representation!!!!

spreadsheet notes: ace henry my beloved <33 also love seeing wilmon from an outside perspective! such a good, well thought out fic with lots of healthy comminication <33

APRIL

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringroveson | explicit | 191k words

i haven't seen st s4 (and probably won't watch it) but that definitely won't stop me from reading harringroveson fic. i mean, who wouldn't look at those three and immediately want to see them together. the way their dynamic is written in this fic is peak, i don't even know what more to say. i also very much trust these authors with billy, and again i wasn't disappointed. there's just something in his head that's intriguing.

spreadsheet notes: this whole fic is such a vibe it makes me feel of hot summer chillin

MAY

Rewrite the Stars (series) by @in-amor-veritas | young royals, wilmon | mature | 137k words

definitely one of the highlights of the year, simon's whole life in new york... those scenes, they just show such a wonderful life simon has built for himself, and his relationship with wille doesn't change it, but he manages to fit in (after, you know, fun rom-com drama shenanigans). also. this is a kid fic. kid fics are my weak spot. rasmus is my new favourite little guy. also shoutout to luis best side character ever

spreadsheet notes: YELLING i love this fic sooo much it is everything

Where The Wind Will Carry Me by @1-life-to-give | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 49k words

AND THEY WERE ACTORS PLAYING LOVE INTERESTS. do i have to say more? the tension guys the TENSION. also erik's side-plot i'm in love

spreadsheet notes: hopping up and down like a hyperactive chihuahua EN I LOVE THIS

Your love is my turning page (the t4t wilmon as girldads au) (series) by @willesworld | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 17k words

i know i know another kid fic BUT!!!! t4t wilmon. makes it automatically superior. i'm not even kidding, add trans characters and i will like your fic (that i probably already like a lot) aroun 300000000 times more. but also this series comes for your feelings. it hits

spreadsheet notes: i am weak for t4t wilmon AND them having a biological child there's something so beautiful about it like that could be meeee ; siiimon i need to hug him and i need to hug wille they're gonna get out of this i prommy ; recovery and one step forwards a hundred steps back, but they made it there in the end ; they were so happy :((((

JUNE

A trace of dew by nuncflore | elden ring, this is too complicated | gen | 13k words

very elden ring-esque writing style, wonderful representation of whatever the hell is going on in the lore. hehehehehhe fucked up family ehhehehehe DIVORCE. my friends are so talented :))

spreadsheet notes: CAP I AM EATING YOU

Hanging from the Ceiling by @spicymiilk | spiderverse | teen&up | 6k words

for like. a week after i saw the new spiderverse movie i made miles 42 my entire life. that also meant reading this fic. and damn did this fic hit. i am still thinking about it

spreadsheet notes: i need more miles 42 content he is my favourite guy ever

The Darkest Little Paradise by @yourdemiurge | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 79k words

*holding you at gunpoint* read this fic. read it now, in this moment. you are not gonna regret it. believe me when i say you NEED this fic, you really do. doesn't even matter if you've seen yr or not. you're gonna thank me later

spreadsheet notes: THIS IS INSANE I CAN'T BREATHE MADY WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

JULY

Protected (series) by bastuba | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 69k words

hey do you ever read a fic and you just feel. so incredibly grounded because something about the characters feels grounded? like, they aren't grounded, but they still give off that vibe? idk how to explain this properly but that's this fic. also wille and simon cook together (i haven't read all parts of the series yet btw)

spreadsheet notes: incredibly grounded very mature how is wille like this ; i'd be like wille, always complaining about the heat ; they're soooooo. idiots. getting tattoos for each other ; i too would come out on a podcast about food ; SAFE SEX

AUGUST

The Season of Rebirth by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 30k words

part of a series, but i'm picking out this one specifically because it's soooo sweet!!! the title fits the fic so well, like yes it is the season of rebirth, but simon and wille's relationship is also rehashed in a very cool way, this fic is like one giant easter egg, i love it so much!

spreadsheet notes: wille taking the season of rebirth to recreate their early relationship, i am obsessed with him he's such a dumbass romantic

The Upgrade by @groenendaelfic | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 13k words

it's about the moment simon realises who wille is. that's why this fic is here. i mean of course also because it is very good, but mainly because of that moment

spreadsheet notes: the moment simon realised who wille is i am wheezing

Right Where You Left Me by @armandgender | spn, deancas | explicit | 94k words

if you're wondering why this fic is on my 2023 list instead of the 2022 list.... well that's because it took me almost a year to read the last chapter, and in terms of how my spreadsheet works, that makes it a fic i read in 2023. anyway. if you haven't read this fic yet, what are you even still doing here. click on that link right now. you want complex emotional situations? intricacies of ill-advised marriages? you wanna pick through abusive behaviour and encourage infidelity? well you're at the right place! also this has one of my favourite jack characterisations ever. it also made me go on multiple rants

spreadsheet notes: I FINALLY FINISHED IT AAAAHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC THE CABIN THE CATS JACK!!!!!

Alejito y Marimar (series) by th0ughts | red, white, and royal blue | teen&up | 18k words

OBSESSED WITH THIS DYNAMIC YOOOOOO. seriously the friendship between alex and martha is an expansion of the rwrb universe that is much needed, trust me

spreadsheet notes: the friendship i didn't know i needed in my life <333 ; they're just chillin!!!

SEPTEMBER

Change of Address (series) by hearmerory | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 134k words

okay. oooookay. strap in for this one, it is a lot. emotionally. like yes zuko is autistic, yes yes yeeees, i agree, also azula is treated like an actual person with actual mental issues, she deserves to be treated with care and this author definitely does that! this is the kind of series that makes me want to disappear in it, but it's also the kind of story i need breaks from, because it is so heavy (definitely check the tags for this one). zuko's relationship with sokka is written so thoughtfully and iroh is characterised incredibly and the author even included ursa in a way that didn't undermine everything that happened in the series before she appeared again. i can only recommend this one!

spreadsheet notes (there's lots of parts to the series, so this one is long): hhhh if i were ms jamieson i would have snapped after two days probably ; be nice katara!!!!! he's nervous ; i need to murder ozai ; and i need to murder zhao as well ; iroooohhhhh he should have just. taken the kids with him that first time he noticed something off ; yeah i think there was a reason why iroh never took zuko to the movies ; ozai needs to suffer ; i need to destroy ozai. violently and painfully ; iroh is the best uncle ever, zuko deserves all his kindness ; azula...... you don't have to fight for affection, it's not a competition..... they love you ; iroh should have taken her with him the first time around, she was like. 10, he could have just picked her up or sth ; ..... hakoda you idiot ; IROH BACKSTORY IROH BACKSTORY ; sokka and the plan that changed his life <3333 ; they are so soft with each other ; they all deserve all the therapy and support and yes sokka obviously you have adhd get with the program ; URSA??????? also i am living for sokka and azula's dynamic they are everything ; i don't. i don't understand her. i don't fucking understand her how could she not want her own children. how can she talk about them like that. like she knows them she doesn't know them she LEFT

Every night my teeth are falling out by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 9k words

i was in need of some good zuko angst and oooohhh boy was i lucky to find this author. PEAK zuko angst. this fic in particular is very dear to me because it explores how mental illnesses would be handled in a world where there's practically no resources to help. i think we need that more

spreadsheet notes: yes well. how DO you deal with a schizophrenic fire lord in a fantasy world? (you stay with him and support him that is how)

OCTOBER

for years or for hours by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 52k words

listennn i love myself some good polyamory fics, and this is the first fic i read for this ship and now i am OBSESSED with them. but this fic in particular.... the concept alone, like. what do you do when you thought the man you love was dead for 800 years, and then when he comes back you have another man you love. the answer is simple. polyamory. the two men you love also love each other. perfect coincidence.

spreadsheet notes: YO the concepts of witchers in modern times alone is sooo cool but adding in everything else? hello yes?

this is a love story by @achillestiel | supernatural, deancas | mature | 3k words

listen, i've never seen fleabag, but that's not the point. this is intriguing and funny, that's the point

spreadsheet notes: fucked up families and you want to fuck the priest hell yeah

The road not taken looks real good now by @stretchoutfics | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 90k words

it's not even the wilmon part i love about this fic (i very much enjoy it of course don't get me wrong) but wille and his kids. like, i don't want to spoil anything but like. wille's interactions with his kids are so important in this fic, and they're written so well. like, emilia is my favourite character in this, i kinda wish there was more with the kids honestly. this fic is definitely a highlight of the year, and to get back to wilmon, i do love how they're portrayed in this fic, how their dynamic plays out, and specifically how certain decisions do not depend on simon

spreadsheet notes: no but. the care put into this story. i can't--

NOVEMBER

Averno (series) by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 12k words

a fascinating take on a fire lord zuko that was never part of the gaang

spreadsheet notes: HE JUST DESERVES KINDNESS but also he's a little fucked up WELL NO WONDER GIVE HIM KINDNESS ; i mean.... what makes a monster really ; well then let's get him out of his cell shall we (also hiiiii suki hello <3333)

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by @hmslusitania | 9-1-1, buddie | teen&up | 34k words

another kid fic!!! but in a different fandom this time!!! seriously, giving buck a child fills so many of my life's needs it's ridiculous

spreadsheet notes: THEY'RE A FAMILY (thank you for giving that man a child)

a soldier (who carries a mighty sword) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 92k words

everything about this fic is wonderful!! the world(kaer morhen!!)building, the developing dynamic between geralt, jask, and eskel, ciri and yenn, the conflict, jask as a teacher!!!! aaahhhhh!

spreadsheet notes: they're my new favourite guyssss this whole fic is so cool, what they've done with kaer morhen <3333

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic & VSfic | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | teen&up | 143k words

this fic asks what if sokka had been stuck with zuko since the end of s1 and delivers a delightful answer. this is the adventures of zuko and sokka (and sometimes iroh) travelling through the earth kingdom. shenanigans ensue

spreadsheet notes: i am obsessed with this i'm just. i know it was only shortly but their life in ba sing se. obsessed

DECEMBER

Grudge Match by @catcas22 | elden ring | gen | 17k words

i'm not entirely sure how to explain this. it sure is an elden ring fic

spreadsheet notes: i don't even know what to say. this is ridiculous and brilliant and stupid and genius all at the same time. hell yeah suburban demigods

Lonely Digging by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 3k words

this is hilarious. go read it to unlock intense life-threatening flirting

spreadsheet notes: best way to flirt billy's doing everything right

***

(quick note: i’ve tried to find everyone’s tumblr handle, but i’m aware that not all the authors have tumblr/have it on their ao3, however if i somehow missed someone, i can go back and rectify that!)

if you’ve made it all the way down here i am giving you a kiss <3

[mapileonxputellas]

Holiday Loving (Patri Guijarro x Reader)

One of my new favourites!!! Loved writing for someone different. Loved writing this, with help from these requests (1, 2, 3) and this picture. TW: mentions of body image issues, suggestive language. Requests open!

The season finally drew to a close and despite the disappointment of the Champions League final you were determined to relax for a week in Ibiza before you had to start the preparation for the European Championships with Spain. Of course you were thankful that you got to play football for a living but if there’s one thing you loved most in the world about your job it was the people you’ve met because of it.

You’d been at Barcelona since you were 19 and they’d the best five years of your life. Like everyone always said, you were more than a football team, it was a family, a group of individuals who gave their all to each other every day.

Within that you had your own little mini family in Claudia, Leila and Patri. Claudia and Leila could only be described as your sisters and best friends, annoying but loving all the time. Patri was different, you’d always had quite an affectionate friendship but you knew you were destined to be more than just friends. The two of you had finally made the leap and began dating almost two years ago after finally ‘growing some balls’ as Mapi put it. With football however and the ever-changing pandemic you’d never been able to go away together, until now.

Which is what led you to Ibiza with the three of them, boarding a small yacht ready to spend the day in the sun along with some of Leila’s other friends.

“You ok?” Patri whispered in your ear as the four of you sat in the little lounge area, your back to her front as you sat between her legs, light kisses being peppered along your ear. “You’re quiet.”

“Tired.” This was your first day out with everyone as you’d spent the first day of the holiday as just the two of you, leading to quite a late night.

“Sleep baby, I’ll wake you up when we stop.”

Patri gently stroked your hair as you fell asleep facing the seat, almost cuddling her leg as you slumped down so your head rested on her chest. She could have been watching the blue water surrounding them but she found you much more interesting, watching as your face scrunched up every so often, as your leg naturally wrapped around her own. She could do this forever even if she already had every part of your body memorised in her head forever.

“Hola.” The silence was broken as Claudia roughly sat down next to Patri, earning an immediate scowl from her teammate.

“Shh, she’s asleep. Don’t wake her up”

“Woah, I wasn’t going to.” The younger girl settled down, dropping into a whisper to stay with her friend. “Why didn’t you come out last night?”

The plan was to have the day to yourselves and then join up with the rest of the group but you’d cancelled on the club at the last minute. “We were planning on coming but then we ended up in this little town and found this cute little restaurant. Just didn’t want to leave.” Patri recited the little story you’d come up with.

Claudia though saw straight through it. “More like you couldn’t get out of bed, no wonder she can’t keep her eyes open.”

“Don’t be jealous Claudia.” You whispered, forcing both eyes to look down on you as your arm snaked around Patri’s waist under her cover up. “You’d be the same if your girlfriend was as hot as mine.”

“You two make me sick.” Claudia said as she observed the hand resting very low on your back. The disgust in her voice though couldn’t disguise the smile on her face as she watched you interact. “You know even though I love you both I never signed up for this.”

“You love us really.” You reached up with your other hand to pinch her cheeks. “Also I specifically remember you pushing us to go on that date so you can’t back track now.”

She couldn’t deny that one, moving closer so she could wrap her arms around you both. “I love you both, just don’t be having sex on this boat.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

….

Once the boat had stopped moving and settled in the middle of the ocean you all made your way up onto the top deck to sunbathe before the food was due to come out.

Through not being able to go on holiday for the past couple of years, you’d forgotten how comfortable Spanish people are around each other and how they all naturally settled for going topless. It wasn’t that you were against this, in fact you would also naturally go to do this, but in the last few years you’d become extremely body conscious. It took a lot for you to be comfortable around Patri and that took a lot of patience and encouragement from her.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Patri sensed your discomfort, wrapping her arm around your shoulder as the two of you sat watching everyone move around. “We can go back downstairs or just keep our tops on.”

“Everyone will just think I’m weird.”

“I promise no-one will care and if anyone does make a comment they’d have me to answer to.” Of course that got a laugh out of you as you knew she was actually the softest person ever off the pitch and hated confrontation. “What do you want to do baby?”

“I’ll just wait till everyone’s settled and then see.” You lied down, Patri leaning over to press her forehead against your own.

“Promise you’re ok? If you don’t feel comfortable then we can go down.”

“I promise I’m fine, you go ahead.” You knew she was used to going topless.

With a final peck of your lips she sat up, slowly taking her over up and bikini top off, almost teasing you as she could see your eyes trained on her body, a smirk on her lips.

“I think I’ve changed my mind, maybe we should go downstairs.”

“Don’t be jealous.” She chucked, remembering the words you had said earlier, lying down on her front so your faces were only inches apart, her hand intertwining with your own. “You know are friends wouldn’t judge you and we’re a bit away from the rest of them. Like they could even judge you, you have an incredible body.”

“Patri…”

“It’s true. It’s only my job to remind you how perfect you are in every way.”

Being a footballer you had to be athletic and you couldn’t deny that you did have a good physique. The problem however, at least in your own mind, was that since you were a teenager you have noticed that one of your breasts is noticeably larger than the other.

Of course you had this checked and the doctors have assured you that there is no underlying problem with this but it made you so self-conscious wearing anything that was low cut in public. You’d considered having corrective surgery but you could never justify the recovery time and how it would impact your footballing schedule.

It had taken a while for you to open up about this to Patri when things began to heat up but since you’d told her she never failed to reassure you that it didn’t matter to her. She regularly switched which one was her favourite, sometimes saying the small one deserved more love and sometimes picking the big one for the attention.

Once everyone was settled, with Claudia led on the other side of Patri, you took a few moments to sike yourself up before sitting up to remove your cover up. You could feel Patri’s eyes on you as you then undid the bikini top, letting it fall to the floor as you led down turning over to be on your back.

“I’m so proud of you.” Patri whispered, leaning up to place a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I’m only taking my top off.”

“Don’t do that, I know it was a big thing for you.”

“Thank you.” The sincerity clear in your voice as you shifted closer together so your sides were touching. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I think I like the big one better right now.”

“Oh yeah, why that one?”

“Because that’s the one giving me a lot of side boob right now.”

“Patri!”

Both of you possessed the love language of touch, spending the next hour just delicately touching the other, grazing your fingers over the other’s back to having your pinkies intertwined. You had the confidence to turn over, knowing everyone around you was a bit tipsy and probably wouldn’t even take notice of you.

As the crowd slowly dissipated and it was only your three close friends up there you became a bit more confident, sitting up to talk to them without reaching for your cover up.

“You look great Y/N.” Leila reassured you, noticing your discomfort and you repeatedly that no-one else was around you.

“Thanks Leila.” Leila was quite a big flirt but it was definitely harmless.

“Don’t look for too long.” Patri said, reaching to pull you between her legs, her hands moving to cup your breasts away from their view. “They’re mine.”

“All yours.” You reassured her, twisting your head to meet her lips. “Always.”

“Again no having sex on the boat.” Claudia repeated. “Come on lets get a tan.”

…..

That night you held up your promise and joined the rest of the group for a meal at a restaurant overlooking the sea.

Even though you were going out with the larger group you had definitely gained some confidence from today, you’d spent most of the time as just the three of you and never felt the need to cover up, so that night you went for a low-cut mini dress.

“Have I mentioned how incredible you look tonight?” Patri whispered as the two of you sat at one end of the long table her hand firmly on your thigh with yours intertwined on top of it, Claudia and Leila opposite the two of you. “Sensational.”

“I think you mentioned it once or twice.” More like five times, since you’d walked out the villa her hands had not left your body.

“Ladies have you decided what you would like?” A waiter appeared next to me, noticing we had put our menus down. “Lovely lady first.”

“Sex on the beach please.” You responded, quickly glancing to Patri to see a blush rising on her face. “The tapas set menu as well.”

The rest of the group gave their orders, Patri simply ordering a vodka and coke, the two of you agreeing to share the tapas.

“Did you not fancy sex on the beach?”

“Maybe later.”

Patri had definitely had a few drinks throughout the day and was edging being tipsy. With that came the wandering hands and frequent displays of affection, as she leading to Patri leaning down to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone. In keeping professional, you shared the occasional hug but you never really shared any displays in front of your teammates.

“You know I think I’ve seen you kiss more times today than the like two years you’ve been together.” Claudia commented as the two of you had another kiss. “Is this why we never go round to your place because you just can’t keep your hands off each other?”

“You wouldn’t be able to either if you had a girlfriend like this.” You commented, also getting a bit tipsy and confident.

“And to think neither of you were going to make a move.” Leila added. “You were both so obvious yet so oblivious at the same time. Now you’re here practically eye-fucking each other.”

“They’re just in love.” Pina teased. “As much as it is weird I do love seeing the both of you so free and happy.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s the plan for after the Euro’s then?” Leila asked.

“We’re spending a few weeks with my family and then Patri’s.” You answered. “A few more weeks in the sun before we get back to business.”

“Got any more tattoos booked in?” That question was obviously directed to Patri, that was one place where you were almost complete opposites. Patri had the love of tattoos whereas you had an extreme phobia of needles.

“Yeah I’ve got one planned here.” Patri pointed to her forearm but in doing so revealed something else.

“Wait what’s that?” Claudia gripped her arm stopping it from moving and pointing to the little words on her wrist.

“Oh yeah I got that last week.”

“What does it say?” Leila and Claudia were currently trying to contort their faces to read the writing upside down before literally getting out of their seat to read it. “’Love you always (Your Initial)’.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the mention of the new addition to her wrist, she had surprised you with it last week, the words permanently now on her skin in your handwriting.

“I think I’m about to be sick.” Claudia faked a gag. “Where has my tough friend gone?”

“She fell in love.” Patri pressed her lips onto yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, even if I won’t get it tattooed on my skin.”

“Y/N just has to wait for the wedding ring to have something permanent.” Leila commented but the food came before you could reply to her.

You could feel the stress of your friends on you but you couldn’t care less right now as you just soaked in the holiday atmosphere, feeding each other the odd piece of food whilst continuing to graze each other’s hands. Everything was perfect as Patri leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“You know I think I prefer the smaller one right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely giving me a better view right now.”

“Patri!”

@patriguijarro: Found a summer fling and now she won't leave me alone

Comments:

@claudiapina: You two are disgusting

@y/n: @claudiapina you love us really x

@y/n: my love forever, so thankful for you x

[cutiecorner]

Baby Bat

ficlet • regressor! Damian, Caregiver! Bruce, Caregiver! Alfred

@hehdjeudud said: "This was AMAZING!! I’ve been looking for someone who could write fics like this for awhile! If you have time it’d be lovely if you could write about Bruce and Alfred comforting a super regressed Damian through being and sleepy/fussy! <3"

Y'all know I had to do this request!! More baby Dams under the cut <3

Being regressed was not something Damian allowed himself to feel often. The circumstances had to be just right - An empty house (save for Bruce and Alfred), no danger he needed to attend to, all duties taken care of - he was only allowed to regress when every qualification was met. Considering that almost never happened, Damian was a bit unfamiliar with the ups and downs of regression. Hence his current predicament. Speaking was a lot more difficult than he wanted it to be, and his stomach really hurt. He had no idea why, he just wanted it to go away, and with his current mental state being barely a year old this was a near insurmountable task.

“Mmm-mm! Mmm-mm!” Damian smacked the pacifier out of his father’s hand, shaking his head vigorously. 

“No?” Bruce asked, “I’m not sure what you want. Can you use your words, big boy?”

No, Damian could not currently use his words - and he wasn’t a big boy, wasn’t that the whole point of this exercise? He was a baby right now, why couldn’t his father understand that? He continued to shake his head, feeling his face go hot as tears welled up in his eyes. Why wasn’t anyone listening to him?

“Oh, pup,” Alfred cooed, kneeling down to Damian and Bruce’s level. He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “Let me try, lad.”

Pspsps, Alfred pinched his fingers together and beckoned Alfred the cat, who had been relaxing on the couch, toward him. The cat leaped off of his perch and sauntered toward the trio, laying down for pets.

“Look, pumpkin, kitty. Can you pet the kitty? Gentle?”

Damian opened his teary eyes to find his favorite feline in front of him. He softly babbled, reaching a shaky hand out to pet the cat. He ran his hands through the smooth, soft fur, and soon his breathing had calmed.

“There he is,” his father said, rubbing Damian’s back soothingly.

A few tears still spilled down Damian’s cheeks, but he was feeling a little bit calmer. At least kitty was here. He grabbed at the air in the cat’s direction, wanting to hold it. Bruce picked him up and set him in his lap, followed by Alfred the cat climbing up onto Damian’s leg. Damian cooed again, flapping his hands gently. Bruce pet the cat and cuddled Damian close. Damian’s hand almost made it to his mouth, but it was stopped by Alfred and replaced with a clean pacifier. Bruce rocked Damian a little, humming. Once they were settled, he asked,

“Alright, chum, all better now. Was the kitty what you wanted?”

Damian almost forgot about his tummy ache. It still hurt, and growled in response. He rubbed his tummy, his face scrunched up in distaste.

“Oh, is this what’s bothering you? Poor baby,” Alfred soothed, “I’ll go get you some medicine.”

Alfred disappeared, and Damian didn’t like that. He started to fuss again, wriggling in Bruce’s lap, but Bruce cuddled him closer to calm him down.

“He’ll be right back Dami, Alfie isn’t going anywhere.”

Alfred was back as soon as he could, with medicine and a bottle of milk in hand. He spooned out a bit of pepto, holding it up to Damian’s mouth.

“Uh-uh!” Damian grimaced away from the pink liquid.

“It’ll make your tummy feel better,” Bruce explained, bouncing Damian encouragingly.

Damian slowly turned his head back, and after much pouting, took the medicine. It was immediately followed by the warm bottle, which made it go down easier. Dami examined the bottle to find it was patterned with little bats.

“Buh- Bah man!” he babbled.

Alfred and Bruce chuckled, Bruce tapping Damian’s nose.

“Baby bat.”

[monstersdownthepath]

A pair of new deities

Well, sort of new. One of them is entirely original, but the first one is actually based on a comedic aside found in Agents of Edgewatch: Assault on Hunting Lodge Seven, where he's listed among a few of the notable names to try and miserably fail to take on the Test of the Starstone. In both cases, however, these deities are involved with the Starstone, a bit of lore I've not really touched before due to my preference for cosmic horror.

In reality, both of these could be full articles on their own, but I feel like they're not 'big' enough to get two individual pages. Maybe one day I'll change my mind. For now, though, here's a look at Veelich, the God of Failure, and Wittiby, the God of Familiars.

VEELICH, THE UNWANTED Chaotic Neutral God of Failure, Outcasts, and Falling Forever In Bottomless Pits

Domains: Chaos, Darkness, Luck, Protection, Void Subdomains: Caves*, Shadow, Curse, Imagination, Solitude, Isolation* Favored Weapon: Club Symbol: A hole or trench with a goblin hand reaching out of it. Sacred Animal: None Sacred Color: Green and yellow *Followers of Veelich can modify either the Darkness or Void Domains with the Caves Subdomain, and the Darkness Domain with the Isolation Subdomain.

Veelich the Unwanted was once known as the unluckiest goblin in all of Absalom, if not the Inner Sea, or perhaps even the world. Not a day went by that he didn't stub his toe, slam his fingers against something, spill his drinks and food, bump into the wrong person, or open his mouth and accidentally insult the very wrong person. To many, it felt as though he couldn't have possibly been doing it on accident; no one alive could be so cursed! Certainly, he was doing this for attention! But Veelich repeatedly insisted, sometimes tearfully, sometimes full of fury, that he wasn't doing anything on purpose, and near as anyone could tell, he was being genuine. Things just happened to him, constantly, and perhaps his only solace (or perhaps his true curse) is that he hadn't been killed for it yet.

That all changed when he tried to take the Test of the Starstone, so people thought. Like every aspirant, Veelich had to first make it inside the cathedral, and to do that, he had to first bypass the bottomless pit which surrounded it. Like so very, very many aspirants before him, the first challenge proved to be insurmountable, and to his credit, he did go all out on his attempt. He had purchased a powerful potion of Jump to heroically leap into the air, a sturdy parachute to glide the rest of the way, and a sturdy security line attached to a powerful, magic stake in the ground in case his luck went sour (as it always did), and even a Ring of Sustenance to both avoid the risk of food poisoning AND assure that his goblin appetite didn't force him to do anything stupid once he finally got into the cathedral.

What he did not know was that his Jump potion was on a discount due to being largely expired, its effects not nearly as dramatic as they should have been, his parachute wasn't secured properly, and a citizen passing by as he set up had accidentally dripped some savory sauce on his safety line, attracting the attention of a voracious rat. Even if none of those incidents had occurred, the sheer number of good luck charms he had brought with him in the hopes of stabilizing his cursed luck would have weighed him down anyway, but fate did not have to work especially hard to send him screaming into the darkness, Ring of Sustenance assuring he wouldn't even die quickly, never to be seen or heard again... For about five or so years.

It was, perhaps, more surprising for Veelich than it was for the first of his unintentional Clerics, Oracles, Antipaladins, and the like to find out that he had achieved a measure of divine apotheosis as he fell endlessly in that pit; he had gotten so used to talking to figments of his imagination as he fell that it took his devoted several months to convince him that they were real, and that he had actually succeeded in his goal of becoming a god... But not in the way he had wanted. In a cruel cosmic jest, the cruelest yet, his attempts at becoming the God of Overcoming Adversity had cemented him as the God of Failure, a figure of mockery and a target of endless jokes, all of which he gets to hear every time someone mentioned him by name. He doesn't even get a proper divine realm, instead having been transported, at some point, to a dark pocket of the Maelstrom that perfectly imitates the pit he spent his final few years as a mortal falling through. His divine portfolio doesn't lend itself to any particularly major miraculous acts; he's mostly a sponge and scapegoat for misfortune and curses, which he then passes onto his followers so that they may then pass them onto their foes (provided they don't perish miserably from the influx of cursed power).

It's not all bad, though. In a way, his bad luck never actually killed him, and though his power isn't especially impressive when compared to that of a proper Ascended, it DOES give him hope that one day, he will be able to find out who or what worked to make him so miserable in his mortal life.

As a proper god, Veelich can grant Boons to any creature taking the Deific Obedience feat, but he does not possess a dedicated Prestige Class such as Feysworn or Diabolist. Boons are typically gained slowly, achieved at levels 12, 16, and 20, but by entering the Evangelist, Exalted, or Sentinel Prestige Classes as early as possible, they can be obtained at levels 8, 11, and 14 instead. While normally a full god would grant three sets of Boons, Veelich isn't powerful or especially creative enough to come up with more than one. Perhaps, in time, he will.

Obedience: Either find or create a hole deep enough to hide your entire head inside, then do so. Spend at least half an hour making casual (though one-sided) conversation about what's been going on in your life so Veelich gets some respite from the deluge of frantic prayers, then you may devote the remaining time to redirecting any misfortune or accidents you have suffered or believe you will suffer to him. Benefit: Gain a +4 sacred or profane bonus to saving throws against curses, and to Climb and Athletics checks.

Boon 1: Cruel Irony (Sp): Gain Jump 3/day, Create Pit 2/day, or Curse of Befouled Luck 1/day.

Boon 2: Curse Sponge (Sp): Common faithful believe Veelich will soak up all their bad luck and misfortune, but you know that prayer isn't enough. Sometimes you have to roll up your sleeves and do it yourself. Up to three times per day, you may cast Accept Affliction as a spell-like ability, except you may use it on any creature within 20ft rather than as a touch spell. If you've absorbed at least three separate afflictions from another being with this ability (whether it be all in a single casting, or one affliction per casting) within the same 24 hour period, Veelich redirects a portion of your suffering; once within the next 24 hours, you can cast Bestow Curse as a spell-like ability.

Boon 3: Screaming Into the Darkness (Sp): Once per day, you may give a foe a taste of what the God of Failure had to deal with. This acts as using the Maze spell as a spell-like ability, except instead of sending a victim into an extradimensional labyrinth, it sends them falling into a bottomless pit inside of which flight--magical or mundane--is impossible. As such, the victim does not make Intelligence checks to escape, but must instead succeed Climb checks (DC 15 + 1/2 your Hit Dice + your Charisma modifier): the first to catch themselves and stop from falling, then 2 additional successful Climb checks for each round they failed to stop themselves from falling (thus a creature that fell for 3 rounds would need to make 6 successful Climb checks to fully emerge from the pit). A creature that fails to escape the pit reappears at the location they disappeared from falling at terminal velocity, taking 20d6 bludgeoning damage the moment they hit a solid surface.

--------

WITTIBY, THE SAGE OF SMALL MAGIC True Neutral God of Familiars, Cantrips, and Arcane Study

Domains: Animal, Community, Knowledge, Magic, Strength Subdomains: Animal*, Cooperation, Education, Arcane, Resolve Favored Weapon: Quarterstaff Symbol: An animal-patterned spellbook with a pearl clasp Sacred Animal: Any familiar Sacred Color: Lime green *Followers of Wittiby may select any of the Subdomains under the Animal Domain.

Disparagingly called the Undeserving God by many, the tale of Wittiby is a strange one, a story tinged with hubris, tragedy, and lost friends. They were once the proud assistance of an archmage, a familiar created from a beloved pet and instilled with a grasp of the mystic and the arcane. Who their archmage was, and what shape they had before their ascension, are both memories that were lost to them during the trauma experienced within the Starstone Cathedral.

No one is ever prepared for the Test of the Starstone, no matter how great their power. The archmage was no different, confidently striding across the bottomless pit with a powerful Wind Walk spell and deftly avoiding the pockets of dead magic sent up to stop them before throwing open the cathedral's doors as though they were the doors of the mage's own tower. All the while, Wittiby was on their shoulder, cheering them on as the doors closed behind them, sealing their fates.

What, exactly, happened within the cathedral is something they will not say, though they obviously remember it with perfect clarity. All they reveal is that their beloved archmage, whose name was taken from them, survived every trial the Starstone Cathedral placed in their path... every trial but the last one, in the Starstone's own chamber, which took their life. Though, by all accounts, the archmage appears to have been a haughty, self-aggrandizing blowhard, their final act was one of pure kindness, sealing their beloved familiar--pet, associate, friend--in a bubble of force to protect them from the terrible backlash of arcane severance to try and teleport them out of the Cathedral, wishing only for Wittiby to escape the cathedral and the rest of their life free, but fate had other plans in store.

Someone touched the Starstone that day, after all. It just wasn't the one who opened the door.

When asked what possessed them to do such a thing, Wittiby claims that they planned to use their divine powers to turn their archmage into their Herald, restoring them to life. It was not to be, though, and for such a selfless wish, the familiar's cataclysmic ascension event tore all records of who the archmage was from reality so thoroughly that no one who was there the very day they strolled into town could even recall the mage's face or name. Going even further, Wittiby's form became protean and chaotic, shifting between dozens of animals in the span of minutes, to rob them of the shape their master gave them. All they have left is their master's spellbook, bereft of details of their life but cover-to-cover full of immense arcane knowledge.

Whether this apparent cosmic cruelty is some form of punishment from the Starstone itself for trying to bypass its rules, a price paid by all Ascended that they simply do not speak of or cannot remember (Wittiby's arcane bond to their master may be the sole reason they recall anything about them), the fate of any being to make it to the center of the cathedral but who failed the final test or, as many sneer, the price paid for Wittiby all but literally riding their way to the Starstone without doing any real work, is the subject of conjecture... even by Wittiby theirself, who isn't yet sure if they even deserve their position.

Still getting used to their place as a new god, Wittiby's dour mood has yet to fully lift, but they find joy where they can in their new duties as God of Small Magics. Every time an aspirant caster learns a new cantrip, casts their first spell, and forges (or deepens) a bond with their familiar, the world gets a little bit brighter for the Shapeless Sage. Their time as a god is a mere handful of years, their faithful a scant handful in number, knowledge of their very existence all but unheard of beyond Absalom, so time will yet tell what sort of god they will grow to be as the passing years heal their wounds and scars over their memories. For the moment they are content performing small blessings to protect mages and their bonded allies from danger when they can, and putting hopeful casters on the path to discovering and mastering their first spells.

As a proper god, Wittiby can grant Boons to any creature taking the Deific Obedience feat, but they do not possess a dedicated Prestige Class such as Feysworn or Diabolist. Boons are typically gained slowly, achieved at levels 12, 16, and 20, but by entering the Evangelist, Exalted, or Sentinel Prestige Classes as early as possible, they can be obtained at levels 8, 11, and 14 instead. While normally a full god would grant three sets of Boons, Wittiby is too new to divinity to offer more than one.

Obedience: Practice magic with your familiar or animal companion for at least one hour. If you are not a caster or do not have a familiar/animal companion, spend at least one hour either researching magical theory or caring for an animal which trusts you. Benefit: Whenever you, your familiar, or your animal companion performs the Aid Another action, your target gains an additional +2 sacred or profane bonus to their check.

Boon 1: The Essentials (Sp): Gain Magic Missile 3/day, Levitate 2/day, or Tiny Hut 1/day

Boon 2: Hedge Wizardry (Su/Sp): The blessing of the God of Small Magic gives you mastery over the smallest magic there is: cantrips. Each time you complete your Obedience, select three cantrips from an Arcane caster class (Magus, Sorcerer, Summoner, Witch, or Wizard). You may cast these cantrips at will as spell-like abilities for the next 24 hours. In addition, once per round as a swift action, you may cast any level 0 spell you know (be it a cantrip, knack, orison, etc) with a casting time of 1 standard action or less, including the ones gained from this Boon.

Boon 3: Constant Companion (Sp): The pain of losing one's treasured companion can be crippling, and Wittiby seeks to alleviate that pain as quickly as they possibly can. You may cast True Resurrection once per day as a spell-like ability, but only to return a creature's bonded companion to life. This includes familiars, bonded mounts (like that of a Paladin or Cavalier), animal companions and, if need be, eidolons. This does NOT include hirelings or cohorts gained via Leadership. You may use this ability to resurrect bonded companions other than your own. Using this ability as an excuse to repeatedly send bonded companions into danger against their will is seen as an abuse of Wittiby's gift and may provoke their wrath.