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#there’s light at the end of the tunnel I promise
neonbyte-if · 3 days
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Stealing a hug from the NPCs -sarah
Origin NPC hugs brain rot:
Mrs. Sim's hugs would be just the most grandmotherly of blessings, the gentle rock she does as she wraps her arms around you; no matter how much taller you are than her, you're still HER BABY, and she knows it's tough out there and she wishes she could do better for you but this is all she's got. A hug to show you you're loved.
Tomas' hugs start off super tight and comforting as he promises you won't have to solve your problems alone, and then like a typical (adopted) brother, he'll zap his fingers into your sides to make you jolt, snorting with laughter.
Riella's hugs are softer, like a caring, tough-love older sister with a hand cupping the back of your head, the type of hug that says 'I want you to know I believe in you, but you gotta make your own mistakes and I'll be there to help pick up the pieces when you do.'
Tomas and Riella's group hugs show solidarity in a life that isn't easy, but the light at the end of the tunnel is within sight, and they're determined that you're all gonna reach it one day. Together.
LOVEJOY's hugs are the supportive hand rubbing your back as he imparts his wisdom from a near century of mistakes, the hushed 'Hey, don't worry about it, kid, we all do stupid shit; at least you had a reason. At least it was important to you. You know how rare that is up here? You gotta hold onto that before you lose it for good.'
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isabellehemlock · 7 months
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Hi loves! ✨️
Okay so I shared here via the @iwtvartcoven post and here on twitter, but it's been one heck of a summer!
Most of my friends on discord and some in DMs on other platforms know some of it but it's been going on long enough that the whole "well maybe next week it'll be easier?" has just not happened so far 🫠
So, to summarize:
🫠 back in mid July my hubby got injured at work, and has been on short term disability ever since. He meets the spine doc again next month but it looks like we're heading towards surgery.
🫠 my mom was hospitalized twice this month.
🫠 first, thanks to insurance bs, then "who signs what?" Med team bs, the weekly infusions I'm supposed to be getting have been suspended for *checks notes* for FIVE WEEKS
SO I'm focusing on things that bring me joy, while simultaneously maximizing my day to day tasks to preserve my time and energy. Very grateful for fandom events to focus on creativity and community as I head into the fall season, but yeah some things unfortunately need to be (understandably) downsized - like me doing the art coven stuff for example.
I will say it's better than it has been! And it will be better than it is now - I have faith! But of course appreciate any good vibes/prayers sent my family's way. In fact, though I had obviously hoped to have caught up for the last *six weeks* on notifications, tags and DMs, hopefully if anything this post finds the people it's meant to in order to at least convey it was certainly nothing personal, and a promise that I am chipping away at it slowly but surely - I even have some time set aside this weekend to re connect with several friends here ✨️💕
So bear with me just a little while longer loves, I will be around more soon 🖤
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simplyavatrice · 6 months
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My apologies if this is too personal, I was just curious, due in part to how i'm feeling..but, have you ever suffered from bad depression/loneliness?
oh absolutely, 2020 hit me (as it did with a lot of people) really hard
it was the first time i ever really felt true depression - i had trouble sleeping, eating, hell - i had trouble thinking. it was all bad and i hit some really low lows
thankfully, i went to therapy and holy shit it was exactly what i needed. i needed an outlet to talk and open up and when i got that, i started to feel better and feel more like myself and understand that no matter how bad you feel (or how good) it never lasts, everything is impermanent and changes and that's a good thing
and i know when you're in that space, it's hard to really process when people say stuff like that - when they tell you 'it's gonna be okay' because holy shit when you're in it, you do not feel that way, but you are definitely not alone and in fact, i'd say pretty much everyone you know here or in your life has dealt with some form of depression at one time or another
the best advice i can give you is to not be afraid or ashamed or anything like that to ask for help, you deserve help and you are totally worth helping and oh man reaching out to someone about it is so good, i promise you it will be worth it if you do
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bri-does-art · 3 months
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a little birdy told me you have some kind of an AU for the Funtime animatronics also?
... who is this.
There are, like, only 5 people who know about this. So which one of youse is it? >:'D (I am not mad. I am very glad to have the opportunity to tease it out. <3)
I am working on an AU featuring the Funtimes, little birdy is right! It's a very different flavour than Call of the Abyss, more of a fantastical drama than a science-fiction horror mystery. It is a tale of duty and responsibility, secrets and closets, choices and consequences, healing and growth, a farmer's child and a puzzling fae, and above all, it is a tale about two lonely souls whose fates are more closely intertwined than either realize.
It is also a tale full of fae shenanigans, fun and indulgence. It's not a serious epic like Call of the Abyss, and hopefully not as huge and ambitious either. 😂 So, dropping the serious act, it's a Fae AU in which some poor unsuspecting farmer gets caught up in the Funtimes' court's bullshit and learns to navigate a new social circle that seems hellbent on keeping their newest member close. I will make a new blog just for it, as there will be more, err, kid-unfriendly elements featuring in this one - I want to be able to properly curate my audience for this AU without alienating people who follow me here and like my non-explicit stories. So, until that's done, I'm leaving y'all with this little sneak peek. :)
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fieryflyingpanda · 22 days
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After a really long slump, I'm getting back into collecting vulture culture. A buddy of mine sent me a taxidermy auction that runs every Sunday and it's lit a spark that has been long smoldered.
The skulls are a pheasant and "pond turtle"
The fox pelt was the first thing I bought from them and he has absolutely wonderful colors in his rump area
The knife was a birthday present my spouse bought me from a person who hand knapped and made it from triple flow obsidian
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janeway-lover · 29 days
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i know that you dont care but god im so tired sometimes i just want to disappear yk turn into a cloud i'm sorry
i DO care and i'm very sorry if you've gotten the impression that i don't
please don't evaporate. i'd miss you.
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leonardalphachurch · 10 months
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i think it’s really funny that all the people in the tags of that poll saying to vote chucker are people who are still active participants in the fandom meanwhile there’s like one person saying to vote lolix who’s still active. it’s what i’ve always said felix girlies are NOT loyal you’re coming crawling back to vote on a poll well we all know where your loyalties lie.
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berylliumliumite · 8 months
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Cop Car - Mitski / @lamplighterr / End Song - Alex G
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disdaidal · 2 years
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Hello to all the lovelies who have lately sent me writing prompts & asks about my writing. 🌺🌼
I just want you to know that I appreciate each and every one of those asks and that I haven't forgotten. I've been going through some stressful times lately and thus, focusing on writing has been really hard for me.
But the summer is almost here, and the burden of my responsibilities should be getting a little bit lighter. So I'll do my best. 🤗💞
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cannibal-of-god · 1 year
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i just want to live a quiet, comfortable life. 
i don’t want things to bother me. i want my days to pass almost monotonously. i want to live in a house that’s quiet and that’s mine. i want to go on trips and visit places i’ve never been. i want to go grocery shopping for all the things i need in a store that’s never seen me, in a town that does not know me. i want to have time for myself and my little hobbies and activities.
i just want a quiet, comfortable, new life.
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burgundybmw · 2 years
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I have two things to say after that MM update: You're brilliant. But also how dare you
Sorry, I had to ❤️
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sanctummilitis · 2 years
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if you look to your right, that shuddering mass in a pool of tears is me. avalon does so much, and hearing (parts of) it performed does even more.
and saber having lines as well as visually appearing in the stage cast credits is like a little golden cherry on top of all that. thank you kawasumi and whoever made those decisions, thank you beyond words!
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pstumpclub · 2 years
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i won't lie to you guys i frequently find myself looking at my parx mutuals and wondering why they're still there. are you guys okay. do i need to call somebody. are you even having fun anymore
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xxblairexxss · 8 months
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She’s in a good hand
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x exgirlfriend!reader
Theme : Light angst, fluff
It felt so lonely when your dad suddenly left you alone in this world. It felt like you lost the light at the end of the tunnel, it was until your ex boyfriend, Charles came back to your life to keep his promise.
Not proofread!
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"Charles, how long?" Riccardo called out the driver, who seemed to be very quite from the beginning.
He swallowed the tender meat from his dish, wiping his mouth with the tissue he had in hand. Charles hadn’t been participating in the group chat that much because this was his first meal of the day and he was starving. He skipped dinner last night because he hardly had any energy to cook anything. "How long, what?"
"Your break." Martha filled in on behalf of his boyfriend.
"Ah, just two weeks.” And just like that, the conversation ended, and he continued back to his meal while eavesdropping on the talk amongst his group of friends until one of the topics perked up his ears.
"Did you give Y/N a call?"
"Yeah."
"Is she doing alright?"
"No, of course not. She tried to sound bubbly just so I wouldn’t worry too much, but I know she still cries herself to sleep."
"He was all she had. I wasn’t even expecting her to be fine right away."
"Yeah, and she was really close with him too."
He wanted to say something but his body seemed to be making its own decision before he could make up his mind. Few of his friends looked his way as he cleared his throat, knowing very well he had something to say.
"What happened to Y/N?” He questioned, eyes went on the couple. Charles saw the way Martha gave a little glance to her boyfriend and pressed her lips into a thin line.
Back when he broke up with you, they realised that Charles wasn’t really comfortable when they mentioned your name, despite the fact that the breakup was on a good term. It had been a year since then, and he eventually accepted that regardless of whatever happened between you and him, you were still part of the group friends, and there would be times when they would mention and talk about you, especially Martha. She was one of your closest friends.
He hadn’t seen you since then. You had asked him to stop contacting you or you would never be able to move on with your life, so he did what you asked. It was hard at first because you were a huge part of his life and to wake up one day, having to carry on with his life without texting you, listening to your voice, hearing you blabbered about your favourite movies without an early notice was unbearable. Up until now, he wasn’t really sure if he had indeed forgotten you or he had his career that acted as his distraction. Either way, you had always been in the back of his mind.
"Mr. Y/L/N passed away last week.”
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flash
“I told her I couldn’t go on a date with him because I love you! “
Alcohol had always been a social lubricant to you. It always made you talk a lot more. Sometimes it made you talk too much that the aftermath made you unable to talk to anyone for a week because you were so embarrassed. Charles had been holding his laughter. He wished he had recorded everything you had been saying ever since he drove away from the club and let you listen to it when you were sober. But a small part of him was glad enough that out of all embarrassing things you could have talked, you had been telling him you love him over and over. He had been planning to confess to you for weeks now, but he wasn’t really sure if you liked him the same—more than a friend—but now that you had been prattling your love for him time and again, it wasn’t that vogue anymore. "Yeah? How much do you love me?"
"A lot! Like,” You brought up your arms and moved them in a circular motion. “this much! But I don’t know if you love me back, so I just keep it a secret." You tried to cover your flushed face with your hands and chuckled.
"I love you too.” He whispered.
"What did you say? Charles, I can’t hear you!” You leaned against his arm and hiccuped. "I wish you loved me back."
"We are here, bambi." You managed to hop off the car on your own, insisting you could walk without his help while he went to pick up your handbag and heels in his car.
"Hi, dad!, I’m so sorry I’m late.” You crashed and slump your body against the older man as Charles followed behind.
"It’s okay, honey. As long as you are safe.” He pecked you on the side of your head as you walked in, bidding goodbye to your best friends.
"Bye, Charles!" You squealed and hopped your way to your room, leaving him to face your dad on his own.
"Leclerc."
"Sir, I—um.”
"No hands?" The adult queried.
"No." Charles shook his head right away, as if vocally denying it wasn’t enough to persuade your dad.
"No lips? Tongue?" 
"No, absolutely not. I’m completely sober, and I have two more friends, one girl and one guy, in the car. Here’s, um, her heels and handbag.” He confirmed before handing your older man the stuff you had left. "Have a good night, sir."
"Leclerc." 
"Yeah?" He stopped in his track back to his car and looked back.
"Thank you for taking care of her."
"Of course. I’ll always take care of her. I promise." He nodded out of curtesy and made his way back to the car, continuing his way to send his other friends home.
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This was the third time the ringing tone rang over and over again from the start. He had been in front of your house, ringing your bells, for the past 10 minutes. His leg veins were all sore from standing it was as if he had a leg day.
“Are you sure she’s home? My legs are burning, bro. She’s not picking up the call either." Charles groaned and heaved a sigh. It felt as if he was going against the rule. He had asked his friends if it was okay for him to pay you a visit because the last time he tried to see you, you flipped off but that was a week after the breakup. It was solely for a different reason now. The friends were very supportive of the idea since everyone except him had sent their condolences in person.
"She hasn’t left the house at all! Just come back tomorrow, then. Maybe—" 
He clicked on the end button right when the sound of the lock being turned came from the other side. "Y/N?"
"Oh, hi…" 
You looked different, a gloomy kind of difference. You no longer had the sparkle in your eyes. Your eyes were droopy and puffy, as if you hadn’t had enough sleep, and the dark circle under your eyes was so obvious that it looked like a silhouette against the rainy days in Monaco. "I heard what happened. I’m so sor—“
"Sorry? Yeah, I have been hearing the same things from every single person since last week. I’m sorry for myself too. You can go now."
"Wait! Y/N, wait." He slipped his foot in between the small gap and held the door from closing shut. "I see that you do not want to talk right now, and I understand and respect that. But if you want to talk sometime later, I’m always here, alright?"
"Thanks, Charles." 
He stepped back, and you closed the door, locking it back as he walked away. He didn’t need to come inside to know that the house was dingy, as if it were painted all over by a leader.
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He stretched his limbs, hands patting and slapping in every area against the duvet, trying to find his phone that was blasting the ringtone in full volume. "Hello…?" Charles leaned to his side and rested the phone on his ear so he wouldn’t have to hold it.
"Charles? Am I disturbing you?"
It was 3AM. Of course you weren’t disturbing him at all. "No? No, not at all. I wasn’t even sleeping.”He sat up straight away, yawning as he put the phone away for a second, in case you could hear it.
"What were you doing?"
"Sorry? Oh, I was working out.” He dipped his head, feeling the blood rush to his head from the abrupt movement earlier.
"At this hour?"
"Yeah. I have jet lag.” He had been here for days. If jet lag lasted this long, he would have been hospitalised. "Is there anything wrong, Y/N?"
"No… I just—" There were 10 seconds of stillness before you continued. "Actually, I don’t know why I called you. You can go back working out. I’m so sorry—“
"Hey," He cut on.
"…yeah?"
"Would you like to listen to me talk for a while instead? I got a few funny stories you might want to hear." Charles felt like his prayer was answered when you reached out to him. It wasn’t much, but at least the first thing that came to your mind in the middle of the night was to search for his name in your contact out of all people. To him, that was really meaningful. "I’m really good at telling jokes."
You didn’t reply.
"You don’t have to say anything. Just be present with me; is that okay?” Then he heard your soft voice on the other side.
"Okay.."
So he went on and talked for a while, though his brain cells had to open a few old books in his memory to recall some interesting stories, but anything to keep you company so you wouldn’t feel alone.
“Y/N, are you still here with me?" He thought you were asleep because he nearly did, though his mouth was conveying every words his brain could make up.
"Yeah."
“Are you sleepy?” Charles asked. It would be crazy to ask the question at 4AM to anyone else.
“No, not yet.”
Though your reply was short and he barely got any reaction, at least you were listening to him so he stayed up that night, telling her about how Lando made fun of his way of driving.
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You called again a few days later. Truth be told, Charles hadn’t been sleeping that well ever since you started calling him in the middle of the night. He was so afraid he would accidentally miss your calls that he even set an alarm for every hour of the night.
"Hi. Am I disturbing you?”
He was leaning against his headboard. Your call didn’t come as a surprise this time, so he didn’t sound sleepy at all. "No, not at all, Y/N. Do you—"
"Can I—" You spoke along with him.
"Go on." 
"Can I talk about my dad?” Your voice trailed off. You had been wanting to talk about him. You wanted to talk about how perfect of a dad he was to you. To talk so proudly of him for hours. You refused to act as if he were gone. No, you couldn’t move on just yet. You wanted to tell everyone about everything he had ever taught you about life. You wanted to play pretend, talking about him as if he were still here.
But who would be willing to listen to a story about a random old man, someone who wasn’t important to them as much as he was to you? Someone who wasn’t a significant icon in the world. He was just your dad.
So you weren’t expecting him to say yes, and that was totally fine. “It’s okay if you don’t want to..”
"Sure! Tell me everything about him. All I know is that he was very scary, especially when he called my name."
You giggled. It felt forever since the last time you smiled; that it felt a little awkward. "He always said he did it on purpose because you would always freeze whenever he did that."
"For real? My legs went weak every time he went "Leclerc."" This had been the most words he had ever heard you say since he met you again.
"He would always peel the shrimp for me." You blurted, finding yourself smiling again. This was the first time you had ever spoken about him since he passed. Charles, on the other hand, tried to stifle his yawn by cupping his mouth. "Because of that, I would never order any dish that had shrimp or prawn if I wasn’t with him because I didn’t want to peel them on my own."
You heard him laugh on the other line. "Do you know how to peel your own shrimp?" He jested.
"I think so. It’s been a while since I peeled them myself. I should probably start learning how to do it myself.”
"Have you learned how to tie your shoelaces?” You heard him query, laughing right after. He remembered how you would always ask him to wait because Mr. Y/L/N hadn’t tied up your shoelaces yet. He had taught you the step by step, yet it felt like the most complicated thing ever so you never tried it again.
"Of course! I have always known how to tie them."
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"Coming!"
You ran to the door as soon as the bell went off while still struggling to clip your earrings on. You went with a printed shirt and bootcut pants in black, paired with your hair tied up in a ponytail. This was the first time in what felt like forever since you dressed up this well. Charles had asked you to join the rest of the group for a casual lunch, and you had been M.I.A. since the date so the only right thing to do was to say yes. "Is this okay?”
"It’s more than okay, Y/N. You look stunning. Ready?" His heart swelled with pride, seeing how much improvement you had made. Charles was told you hadn’t leave the house ever since what happened and he wasn’t hoping for you to agree with his offer. Not only you said yes, you were also looking forward to it.
"Ready." You exclaimed and halted your steps before bumping against his chest as he abruptly stopped.
"Wait." 
"Why?" Your head tilted along as he crouched down to pull your shoelaces loose. Your cheeks were flushed because you even went on internet and tried to make it perfect but judging on how quick he was to realise about it, you felt a bit like a fool. It was a bit of a waste of time as well. You should have just went with a heels or flats. “Oh, did I tie it wrong? It’s okay, Charles. I can do it on my own."
"It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N. There you go. You did it perfectly. I just made it tighter.” He patted on your head soon as he was done with both sides.
He was lying. You knew it because your shoelaces looked neater now—way different from when you did it.
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"Y/N, we missed you!” Martha screamed and pulled you into a tight hug. It had been nearly a week since the last time you met up with her. It didn’t sound that long but it was long for you and Martha who could never went more than 2 days without seeing each other.
You were a little taken back from the way they were celebrating you that some of the other customers were looking at your way. Charles saw the way your cheeks went pink as you looked to your side that he had to step in.
"Okay, that’s enough. Don’t humiliate us in public.”Charles pulled your seat on his side while the rest of the group settled down. The waiter handed him the menu and he passed you on to to as they carried on with conversation and meals while both you flipped on the pages.
"I think…I’ll just take polpette al sugo.”
"They have prawn linguine. I thought that was your favourite?" He called out the waiter and looked back at you for confirmation, seeing the way you weren’t quite sure with your decision but you chose to stick with it.
"No, I don’t feel like eating that one."
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"Why did you order that?"
"Oh, this?" He took a spoonful of the linguini and shrugged. "I don’t know. Guess I wanted to try it out?"
When the foods arrived, you saw the waiter handed your favourite food, the prawn linguini to Charles when he had never ordered anything that had seafood in it. "But you don’t like seafood?"
"Doesn’t mean I’m not up to try a new dish.” He calmly replied, and before you could argue again, Riccardo called his name to ask about his new car.
You always made the wrong decision in life. Let it be from choosing your part time job, to choosing your prom dress, to choosing your major in university. Today wasn’t an exception too. The dish that you ordered wasn’t good enough. It was okay, but it didn’t give you the contentment as much as you thought it would. So you had been eyeing non other than the linguini in front of Charles.
You thought you were being subtle until he switched his dish with yours; with all of the prawns peeled. It was done instantaneous while you were rolling the meatball around so the the fork in your hand were dropped in surprise. “Take mine.” He said, before looking back at the guy on the other side of the table and took a bite of the meatball in front of him. You picked up the fork which he had twirled with the pasta and stuffed it in your mouth. Your hand immediately went to your filled mouth and stifled a giggle.
"Is it good?” He leaned his head against his hand, grinning from ear to ear while he stares at you as you take another spoonful of it.
"It’s really good! Can I take this one?" You poked one of the fresh, plump prawn he had peeled and pointed it on his face.
"Take it, precious. I don’t like seafood."
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Charles came by early in the morning with a bag full of different ingredients that it felt like you were prepping for a housewarming party. Today was your dad’s birthday, and you were supposed to be having a father and daughter date like always, but this was the first birthday without him, so you didn’t know what to do—whether you should celebrate it or if it turned into a normal day in your calendar now that he was gone.
"What are we doing with these? Are you trying to cook something?” You asked, taking out milk, herbs, butter, and all sorts of stuff from the paper bag.
"We are making chicken pesto lasagna.” He bent over the kitchen counter and took out his phone. You saw, he went on his notes and scrolled through the words that he had written in it.
"Why?"
"Because it’s something you used to do with your dad?” He went around the kitchen, looking for something in circle, until you handed him the chopping board. "Let’s make it a tradition for his birthday."
"But I don’t really know how to make it. He was the one who did all the cooking.” You took out red onions and garlic for him to start chopping.
"It’s fine. I studied the recipe last night, and it shouldn’t be that hard. Look." Charles scrolled down his notes, and you saw what was written in bold and labelled as ‘tips’. "I even got some extra tips from people on the internet."
"How did you know we used to make this on his birthday?"
"You mentioned it once. A few years ago. If I’m not mistaken, it was his favourite, yeah? And that was why he liked making it on his birthday because it felt extra special when he made it with you?” He lifted his arms high when you threw yourself against him. "Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry—"
"Thank you. I really appreciate everything you did to me, Charles."
He rested his chin on the crown of your head while his hands were holding a knife on one and an onion on the other. "Anything for you, precious. Anyway, I don’t feel comfortable having you judge my back while I cook; do you mind leaving the kitchen to me?"
"No. Let’s do this together. Can I see your notes?” He went back to chop and dice as he pushed the phone to your side. It felt like you were seeing something you shouldn’t have when you accidentally flicked your finger up on the screen, revealing your picture as his wallpaper on his home screen so you immediately clicked back on the notes before he was it. There were two files in the notes. You clicked on the one that was labelled as ‘Bambi’, where you saw he had written down everything you have ever said to him, your favourite colour, favourite food, your first pet, and down below on the page which looked like it added recently was what your dad used to do for you, what you had told him in a phone call few days ago.
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After the whole war in the kitchen, the lasagna turned out to be really good. You wouldn’t have thought the end product would taste that delectable because he didn’t seem to be very sure of every step he did, though it was all based on the recipe itself. It was a while after the lunch was then you asked him to accompany you to see your dad before the day ended because you wanted to wish him a happy birthday in ‘person’ and here you were, standing in front of your dad’s tombstone with Charles.
"Hi, dad. I know you don’t like me going out when it rains, but I promise I won’t be that long.” You crouched down and brush the dead leaves on the stone before placing a bouquet of fresh flowers. "Happy birthday!" You tried to sound joyful because you promised you wouldn’t cry. Not when you have someone else with you this time but you choked back on your tears as soon as you felt Charles’s hand on your shoulders, giving it a squeeze every so often. "I made your favourite food with Charles, and I think he could snatch your best chef title soon."
“Don’t say that. He’s not gonna let me take you out on a date again.” You laughed at his pleasantry and rested your head against his chest. "Sir, I know I broke your trust when we broke up but she was the one who forced me to break up with her.” You giggled and pinched on his waist as he winced. “But you don’t have to worry about Y/N. She’s in good hands. I’ll always take care of her like I have promised you."
“We’ll come back again soon, right?” You looked up with a smile. The tears that was burning your waterline was gone now. It felt like his hug completely consume your being and it was the second most comforting feeling in the world, second to your dad’s hug.
He rubbed on your back with his thumb, pulling you closer as he closed his eyes. Hugging you felt like heaven in his arms. “I’ll bring Y/N here whenever she wants to see you. You got my promise again, sir.”
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the-modern-typewriter · 7 months
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Hi ♥️ can I please request a small snippet which starts with the hero offering themselves to the villain instead of another victim (which was the intention of villain all along). I really love the powerful villain - struggling hero dynamic. Doesn’t need to be in a romantic way…
Sorry if this is oddly specific. Thank you so much for all your stories and snippets so far. They’re sooo good!!! ✨
The hero dodged into the villain's path.
The villain stopped. They looked down, at the hero's palms planted firmly on their chest, then to the hero's eyes.
The hero gulped. They dropped their hands, but didn't step aside.
"Take me instead."
"You." Power crackled off the villain; enough to make the hair on the hero's arms stand on end.
"I'm more valuable," the hero said, holding the villain's gaze. Their heart drummed wildly. "People would pay an awful lot of money for a go at me - you don't need them. I'm a much better ransom."
"And if I don't take you?" the villain asked.
"I'm also more fun."
The villain's lip curled. "And if I don't take you?"
Well, then they would have to fight. The hero was not remotely looking forward to that prospect. It wasn't that they couldn't hold their own - they knew perfectly well that they were generally considered one of the few people who could, when it came to the dazzling monstrosity before them. But, well.
The hero gulped again, squaring their shoulders. Their hands shot, gently, gently, to the villain's chest when the villain began to sidestep them.
The villain's head tilted.
The hero didn't drop their hands that time.
The villain's heartbeat was perfectly steady.
"I'm offering," the hero said.
The curl of the villain's lip sharped a fraction more; a scrap of paper burning up on a fire, containing all the world's most dangerous secrets. "Is that what you're doing right now?"
"Please," the hero said, quieter, just for the two of them.
"Maybe I don't want to ransom you," the villain said, in the same intimate murmur. Their eyes glittered in the city lights. "Maybe I'd rather keep you all to myself."
The hero's stomach swooped. "Just leave them alone."
"You're a predictable little thing, you know that?"
Realisation hit the hero, like the loud click of a lock turning. It didn't make any difference though. Wasn't that the point? To see the trap closing. To stand there anyway. It was already too late.
The hero had known that the villain could be persuaded to take them instead. The villain had known they would offer.
"So are you," the hero said, mouth dry. "In your way."
"My predictability doesn't make me lose." The villain's hand rose up, to cradle the hero's jaw. Their thumb grazed over the hero's skittering pulse. "It doesn't make me so reckless."
The hero shivered.
"There are power-blocking cuffs in my pocket," the villain said. "Take them out."
"You promise you'll leave everyone else alone?"
"You trust me to keep my promises?"
Yes. Not because of any particular honour, but because one did not get the devil's reputation for threats and bargains without proper follow through. "Promise me. Please."
"I promise that I'll leave them alone in this matter if I can have you instead."
It didn't save everyone and everything, the hero knew that. But it would spare the poor fool cowering behind them, braced for the end of all things. They reached into the villain's pocket like one might reach into a nest of vipers.
"Put them on," the villain said.
The hero did. Everything went muffled and sluggish as the auto-lock engaged. The villain's grip on their jaw kept them from crumbling, pitching forward, at the wave of overwhelming weakness that flooded them.
They could vaguely hear gasps, cries of alarm, hissed whispers behind them. Someone might have screamed 'no.' Someone might have been held back. The hero wasn't sure; they could feel their vision tunnelling a little at the edges.
They still held the villain's gaze.
"Good," the villain murmured. They pressed a kiss to the hero's forehead. Then they let go, abruptly.
The hero staggered. They hit their knees with a groan.
Powerless. It struck them that they'd made a terrible mistake. They hadn't expected it to feel like that.
The villain surveyed the crowd, for a beat. They said something - the hero's ears were ringing, they weren't sure what it was. The villain's fingers tangled idly into the hero's hair, then they started walking.
Being dragged hurt. The humiliation of it would have surely hurt, too, if the hero could concentrate on it.
The villain's car beeped it as it unlocked. They let go of the hero's hair. The hero slumped to the ground, reeling.
"Get in the car," the villain said. "Or I'll put you in the boot."
It seemed to take Herculean effort to climb into the passenger seat. It was almost a relief to slump there, sweat beading their forehead, body aching.
The villain got in too, on the driver's side. They took a moment to look the hero over. The power of them had always seemed enormous, but it felt like something else entirely then without the hero's own to match it. A devastating, crushing weight. An unstoppable force.
The villain reached over and clipped the hero's seatbelt in place. They cupped the hero's cheek again, drawing their attention, their scattershot focus.
"Leaving them alone was the least of the promises you should have insisted on," the villain said. "You panicked. You should know better."
The hero groaned again. Their head lilted into the soothing cup of the villain's fingers.
The villain let go, once more, left them bereft, and started the car.
They drove.
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s6lars · 4 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆ 📂 pedri crashes an interview…
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slightly suggestive, a little pedri x reporter!reader moment. inspired by this moment between iker casillas and his then gf after spain won the world cup. let's pretend barca wins the cl. enjoy!
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"Can we get one more player to interview?"
Your producer's voice rings through the earpiece, prompting you to push it deeper to hear better.
The thunderous roars from the humongous crowd bleeds through the tunnels of Wembley Stadium, still persisting hours after the full-time whistle blew the moment Barcelona became champions of Europe.
"Come again?" you reply.
"One more player. Get them in front of the mic."
Jules Koundé and Fermin Lopéz had stopped by for an interview earlier, but clearly that wasn't enough for your producer or the show. Standing on your tiptoes, you scan the busy yet lively atmosphere of the tunnels — crowded, upbeat, slightly cramped, and filled with a persistent tone of chatter from the tens of reporters present.
It doesn’t look like any new players would emerge from the dressing rooms, at least not for a while. You were just about to inform your producer about it when you see your boyfriend walking into the room, nudging his way through the crowd.
Pedri González in all his glory, sporting the signature blue and red kit, beads of sweat in his hair and the rosey blush splayed across his face. The calls of reporters grew as they tried to get his attention, but once his honey brown eyes met yours, it was only you who he was drawn to.
He makes the proud walk to your booth, the shiny Champions League medal dangling on his neck, gleaming under the lights. Pedri's smile grows with every step, happily ignoring the twenty or so other reporters calling his name.
"Hey baby," Pedri coos, hands naturally wrapping around your figure. Your body tenses for a moment at the PDA — it doesn't go unnoticed by him, swiftly releasing you from his embrace.
Although your relationship had been long public by now, this the first time your worlds have crossed professionally (ironic, given that you were a sports reporter, and Pedri was an athlete). There were several conversations about this and it usually ended the same way — as long as there was a camera pointed in your direction, there could be no signs that you were a couple.
"You're working right now?" Pedri asks. You nod in response.
"I need you for an interview. It won't be long, I promise." You signal at your cameraman to prepare the interview, turning back to Pedri.
"I wouldn't mind either way." There's that smile again, the smile that only draws one out of you as well. "Hey, I didn't see you during the celebrations earlier.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I had to get ready for this,” you recall, taking off as soon as the Blaugranas lifted the trophy. It pained your heart to not run up to Pedri and jump into his arms, instead, you ran the other way to touch up your makeup underground.
“But hey, we can take pictures later. When it’s less crowded. And a lot quieter.”
“I can think of several things we can do where it’s less crowded. Dunno about quiet, though,” Pedri teases, low enough so only you could hear.
No amount of Patrick Ta blush could replicate the growing heat painted on your cheeks. You shove him playfully, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh.
Pedri looks devilishly handsome tonight — he always does, but something about his boosted confidence from the win only amplified it. His tongue darts out to lave over his bottom lip, taking it between his teeth as he drinks in your figure.
Were the tunnels always this hot?
“Guys,” your cameraman calls, signaling for you to get ready. You shake off all the unholy thoughts in your mind reserved for the comfort of Pedri’s hotel room later that night, fix your hair, and bring the mic up to your chest.
One, two, three, your cameraman mouths, and you’re live on air to millions.
“Welcome back to Wembley! Most of the players are still celebrating by now, but I’m joined by Pedri here.” The camera pans, now fitting you both into the frame.
“Is there anything you’d like to say?” You hope the sound system doesn’t catch the unusual giddiness in your voice as you address him.
“What is there to say? What should I tell you that you already don’t know?” Pedri’s eyes don’t leave yours for a second, completely disregarding the lens, speaking like you’re the only person in the room.
“Well, tell us how you feel,” you respond through giggles, instinctively taking a step closer to him.
“You’ve caught me in a true moment of happiness, not just from me, but from the rest of the club. It’s been a season full of ups and downs and we truly feel like we’ve deserved for it to end this way,” Pedri explains.
“… and I just want to thank all the people that have supported me throughout all this. My parents, my brother…”
Pedri’s voice breaks as he reaches the end of his sentence, his finger reaching up to swipe any stray tears spilling onto his cheeks. You wanted nothing more than to drop the microphone and pull his head into the crook of your neck, but you stood your ground.
Watching the love of your life speak so highly of his loved ones, pouring his heart out with the world watching, it’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. And you feel like it’s happening all over again.
“It’s fine, we can just talk about other things for now…” You try to diffuse the situation, watching as Pedri regains composure in front of you.
“No,” he suddenly blurts, waving his finger.
“No?” you barely manage to squeak out before Pedri leans in — and he’s kissing you.
One arm around your shoulders and his free hand gripping your chin, Pedri moulds his lips against yours. All sense of professionalism had evaporated from your body, drunk on the way he tasted.
He pulls away before you could kiss back, landing one last sneaky peck on your forehead before making a run for it. “I’m leaving! See you later!” he says in between giggles.
You watch him disappear into the stairwell when the sound of applause fills your ears, and you only then realize what position you’re in — putting on a show for the crowd of reports.
“My my, Pedri. What a man he is.”
A voice rings through your earpiece. You also put on a show for the crowd of millions at home.
Your face is heated once more, your words tripping over themselves as you try to think of a closing statement. Part of you wants to scold Pedri and teach him a lesson for messing with you at work — the other wants him to kiss you senseless again, letting the world know you belong to each other.
“When Pedri comes back to Spain, tell him I want to give him a kiss as well!”
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