#Metronome speaks

[brewerssupplies]

metronome?

Metronome

1st-level divination spell

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: Self

Components: V, S

Duration: Instantaneous

You recklessly channel the weave through your body and cast a random spell of 1st-level determined by the DM.

At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 2nd level or higher, you instead cast a random spell of that level.

[suave-hogan]

No one has explained Grobb, aside from TWRP's vague posts

and I'm unlikely to go to any concerts soon to find out

Do I even want to find out?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

gilbert l. bailey ii and will roland as phil filmore and orville wingate performing "lucky day" from summer stock

[bywandandsword]

Idk if this is a neurodivergent thing or a trans-but-doesn't-realize-it-yet thing, but I distinctly remember being given the Samantha American Girl book series when I was nine or so and going "oh, so this is what a girl is supposed to be like" and then using Samantha Parkington as a blueprint for how to girl for the next decade. I still default to the prim and proper mannerisms and language Grandmary would have approved of when I'm in public, complete with crossing my ankles when seated and folding my hands in my lap Like a Lady™️

Which I'll tell you, as someone who's also a southerner and grew up around soldiers' humor, makes for a very interesting combination

[dracolizardlars]

Guys I'm actually so invested in the team I ended up getting (technically choosing, but under a set of restrictions and honestly it was all brainless spur of the moment choices) for the "metronome battle" tournament I'm gonna be in with a few friends. I never used any of these Pokémon before in my fucking life but after carefully thinking about and curating their EVs and such to be the best they could be for the situation, I am SO proud of them and can't wait to see them in action!

(Except for Cheshire Cat. She's adorable but she is completely useless stats wise lol. Everyone has to have a weak Pokémon on their team in this tournament as part of the rules and she is mine!)

Mr Hands hits like a fucking truck IF he happens to get literally ANY physical attacking move from Metronome. The odds are pretty in his favour I find. He also has like a billion HP so he takes hits pretty well.

Dollop is from the "mid tier" pool and I'm using him (I've always used he/him for this Pokémon, he's trans I guess) ENTIRELY because he is a shiny I am VERY proud of, but he also hits pretty good when getting special attacking moves, and TAKES special attacks like a champ. He's the only member of my team who isn't extremely slow. He also has an ability that prevents any of my team getting put to sleep as long as he's on the field (this is Double Battles) which could be super clutch, you never know!

Cheshire Cat has exactly one thing to offer to the team: she has the ability Unnerve, which will prevent the opponents from eating their Leppa Berries. I'm going to count the PP used and send her out with the best possible timing to stop them so that they have to use Struggle and take recoil. Also, being Steel type means you tend to resist many of the attacks that Metronome throws up, which is her only hope for staying around for more than a couple turns because dear lord are Meowth's stats terrible 😂

Misophonia is my fucking PRIDE AND JOY. I am SO excited to see her shine. I had never even THOUGHT about Hatterene much before setting her up for this tournament and it turns out its stats are fucking great! You see, their base Attack is actually perfectly serviceable, so I did the exact opposite that one would do for a normal competitive battle and maxed out her Attack so that it's almost level with her Special Attack. In fact Misophonia's Attack is higher than Dollop's Sp. Atk and of course Miso's own Sp. Atk is considerably higher than that! Her defenses are also pretty great. Her stats are so fucking perfect for Metronome where you are going to be both dishing out and taking both physical and special attacks at complete random. AND! Her ability is Magic Bounce, so the opponent gets Thunder Wave, Toxic Spikes, anything like that from Metronome? UNO REVERSE MOTHERFUCKER! That ability is actually the sole reason why I picked Hatterene, its amazing stats are a huge pleasant surprise for me. I think Misophonia is gonna carry me to victory 💖

[amethyst-halo]

i need to draw ocs. i can’t pinpoint which ocs but i must draw ocs

[im-captain-basch]

Another DKC AU that I’ve been working on off and on in the background of everything else is a fantasy parody comic I call Metronome Measure! It’s mostly the product of me simultaneously rereading some of my favorite fantasy webcomics and rereading Lady Zephyrine’s DKC novelizations. Lemme tell you a little about it:

It would be a retelling of the original DKC trilogy, but presented as a fantasy comic while remaining as true to the source as possible while some events are a little scrambled out of order.

The world is based primarily specifically on the world of Zephyr’s works and its sequences and events, but there’s a couple of tweaks that are mostly minor in the long run (most notably that in the beginning, during what is essentially the end of Diddy’s confrontation with K. Rool from DKC2, he’s 14 as opposed to 9).

The plot involves Diddy being thrown back in time with the memories of events that take place 8 years from the point he returns to. He’s tasked with trying to turn the events of the Kremling-Kong war into ending with K. Rool’s defeat rather than success, and in the process hopefully saving the members of his family whose lives were lost during it. In essence, it’s one of those “characters goes back in time to change the story��� plots, but with a DKC spin.

The different members of the royal family have different alternate titles depending on where they stand. The three most notable are that the ruler of the island is the “sun”, their spouse is the “moon”, and the family member chosen as the next ruler, whether they’re the current one’s child or not, is the “star”. "Comets” are any other immediate members of the family, be they born or adopted into it, while “asteroids” are anyone who married into the family. This applies to the siblings and niblings of the former and/or current sun or star.

“Metronome Measure” can be inferred to meaning the right steps in a plan having to be taken at the right time. e. g.: if Diddy wants to save who he can and beat K. Rool, he has to figure out the most opportune time to act in order to not raise the Kremlings’ suspicions based on the knowledge he has.

[m0e-ru]

i have got to keep on looking at pictures of soujiseta for my health I have to see my boy son friend brother boyfriend uncle love of my life best friend cousin grandpa or so help me

[gothamphantomgoat]

[haywardfreud]

Arthur Clarke, the most sympathetic of the sci-fi writers.

[blackvahana]

I sat and plucked the strings, I called him in. All his waves, all the tides to the shore. A call so strong, a siren so big, that even the ocean itself is pulled.

Eyes are great spheres with central dots, gelatinous, liquid, strange substances both there and not. Fish eggs, babies seen in the light when held to eclipse the sun. That's what I watched, that's what I called; it wasn't just the sparkling core but the peripheral hagfish expulsions - and those expulsions' expulsions. All the world brought to me, all the limbs held with puppet strings.

I called, he was brought to answering. Fate, mind, thoughts, personality, the repetitive learned states, the state-learning, ideas, future possibilities, the gentleness of flesh, the sharpness of consciousness-bone. Echoes, but simultaneous. Thunder at the same time as lightning, brought together not because one must follow the other but because both were brought together.

I still fail to understand, but at least I understand that that lack of understanding is a willed ignorance born from... understandable things.

There, you said, was the place you last were, just below the surface. When I wake it will be there. This is a Creator's act, a Creator's mind, a Creator's reverence for the Created. Understanding of the Trinity, embodying it. The siren call emanates from the deepest, most fertile underwater volcanoes, the point at which my face presses against the surface.

There was a reason we went up there in the first place. The revelation and self-destruction was wanted all along. Apotheosis, they call it; even those who have reached it need to play this game through again and again and reach it again and again. This is... Old God re-apotheosis, the eyes opening to another truth, more eyes across your scales, more revelatory bliss, and I am that. Nothing is lost when all is lost. All is gained when all is lost. Nothing is lost, all is had. All is had and all is gained.

[sergeantjessi]

Big fan of my current "On Repeat" playlist

[rottenaero]

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "

[eyesocketinchworm]

GUESS WHO JUST FINISHED HIS HOMEWORK WHILE SITTING FULLY CLOTHED ON THE SHOWER FLOOR LISTENING TO THE SHINING SOUNDTRACK ON FULL VOLUME??? THIS GIRL!!!!

[d-z20]

Rivals part 2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: After getting fucked in a supply closet you can't get Rio out of your head so when you discover she's staying at the same hotel as you an Agatha you know it's impossible to try and ignore her.

-OR-

You upgrade from a stoage closet to a meeting room

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Rio, fingering (R recv), kinda semi-public sex, orgasm denial

Words: 3k

A/N: One is a centuries-old witch and the other's age is just yes in canon so it makes just as much sense that I've put them as the same age in this AU 😂😂

AO3 | Part 1 | Masterlist

You step into the hotel lobby, the cool air of the evening clinging to your skin as you adjust the collar of your coat. Tonight, you’re checking both yourself and Agatha in—just another part of the job you’ve come to accept, the silent, invisible support that keeps her world in motion. Agatha’s already at the bar, as usual, casting an air of aloofness and superiority as she takes her seat, eyes scanning the crowd with a disinterested air. You can almost feel the weight of her gaze, even from here.

The receptionist is an older man with an unremarkable face, his fingers tapping the keys on his computer in slow, deliberate movements. You hand over your ID with the same practiced, neutral expression you’ve worn countless times as he enters your information into the system. The sound of the keys clicks like a metronome, each tap reminding you of the odd stillness before everything changes.

Your gaze flickers to the lobby, noticing the soft hum of the busy space, the flow of people moving in and out of the hotel, and the quiet buzz of an upcoming event. And then, like a sudden jolt, you catch a glimpse of her.

Rio.

She stands in front of the elevator, looking as effortlessly stunning as ever, dressed in a navy suit that hugs her frame just right. The moment your eyes meet, she grins—a slow, knowing curve of her lips that sends a sharp pulse through your chest. She doesn’t even need to speak to make the connection clear. And then, just as the doors begin to close, she winks at you.

Crap . She must be staying here too.

A wave of heat sweeps over you, flushing your skin. Your mind drifts back to the storage closet, to the feel of her hands and the intensity of her touch. You swallow hard, trying to push the thoughts aside, but the memory lingers, tantalising. The butterflies in your stomach are different now, sharper—less from nerves, more from a dark, hungry anticipation.

You catch yourself before you get too lost in the memory, forcing your focus back to the present, back to the receptionist. He’s handing you the keys—two of them. One for you, one for Agatha’s room. You mumble your thanks, feeling the weight of the cards in your hand, and force yourself to walk toward the bar where Agatha is seated.

—

A little while later, you’re in Agatha’s suite preparing her materials for tomorrow as she sits at the table, papers spread out in front of her, her sharp pen gliding across them with practiced precision. Her presence is cold, controlled—exactly how she likes it.

You’ve been through this routine countless times: taking care of the small tasks, getting everything in order, making sure she’s ready for whatever’s coming next. It’s the usual drill, only tonight it feels heavier somehow. Maybe it’s because of Rio. The thought of her, so close, almost makes your skin itch.

“Is everything ready?” Agatha’s voice cuts through the silence, her tone low and sharp.

“Yeah,” you reply, setting the keys on the desk in front of her. “I—uh, I think I saw Rio in the hotel. She must be staying here too.”

At that, Agatha’s gaze snaps to yours. Her eyes narrow, her lip curling in distaste. “Of all the places she could’ve chosen..." Her voice is low, but the venom behind it is unmistakable. You know better than to push her when she’s like this, but you’re curious about why Rio makes Agatha so... angry.

You take a breath, trying to sound casual. “You two... you’ve had history, right? Why do you hate her so much?”

For a moment, Agatha doesn’t speak. Her gaze shifts somewhere distant, her mind clearly working through something you can’t see. Then, with a sharp exhale, she leans back in her chair, her voice low, almost bitter.

“Rio Vidal…” Agatha’s tone is heavy with disdain. “We were inseparable back in school. Best friends. But it was always a competition—always. Top of the class, Model UN, class president races. We were always neck and neck. She was brilliant, you know. Almost annoyingly so. I liked it at first. But the closer we got, the more I realised we weren’t just competing for grades. We were competing for each other's attention.”

She leans forward now, eyes burning with the intensity of the memory. “We started dating when we were seniors in high school. I thought it would be perfect. Both of us at the top, together. But the moment we graduated, everything fell apart. She got the job I wanted. The one that had my name written all over it. I even tried to dig up dirt on her during the hiring process—anything to tilt the scales. But she came out spotless, like she always does.” Agatha’s hands tighten around her pen, her knuckles white. “She didn’t even want it, not really. She just applied for the experience. But she got it. And I…”

She stops, biting down on her lip, and when she speaks again, it’s through gritted teeth. “She sabotaged me; I don’t know how but she did. So, I did what anyone would do in that situation. I pushed her away. And we both took turns throwing everything away, hurting each other over and over again. It was a mess. We were constantly fighting; but god, the hate sex was phenomenal.”

A long breath. “Then, after that year, we both went our separate ways. Until the world of politics brought us back together. I will never forgive her. She’s always there. Just waiting for me to fall. And if I have to break a few rules to make sure she’s the one who stumbles, so be it. It’s survival.”

You watch her, her eyes burning with the intensity of old wounds. There’s no mistaking it: Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal share a history that’s anything but simple.

“So,” Agatha finishes with a dry laugh, her voice colder than ice, “I’m not about to let her win. Ever.”

You can feel the weight of her words settle in the room, thick and heavy. And for a moment, you almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

But you know better than to feel sympathy. You’ve seen firsthand what happens when something gets in the way of what Agatha wants.

And getting fucked by your boss’ long-term rival and ex-girlfriend has definitely put you in the way.

—

Later that night, the soft hum of the air conditioner is the only sound in your room as you scroll aimlessly through your phone, trying to unwind after the day’s whirlwind. The room is quiet, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in your head. Agatha’s background with Rio has you reeling, the weight of their shared history settling heavily in your mind.

A sharp knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You groan, already anticipating the next round of demands. It’s late, but Agatha isn’t one for respecting boundaries, especially when she thinks something “needs” to be done.

“Coming,” you mutter, dragging yourself to the door. You yank it open, ready to fire off some excuse about needing sleep—but the words catch in your throat when you see who’s standing there.

Rio.

She leans casually against the doorframe, her devilish grin firmly in place. Her hair falls perfectly around her face, and the faint smell of her perfume wafts toward you, heady and intoxicating. She’s dressed down now—black jeans and a fitted shirt that still manage to look like they belong in a magazine spread.

“Miss me?” she asks, her voice low, playful.

Your pulse quickens, and your grip tightens on the door handle. “What are you doing here?”

“Relax,” she says, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I just thought you might like a drink. You know, since we’re practically neighbours." She gestures down the hall. “I’m just a few doors down. Figured it’d be rude not to say hi.”

Your heart skips a beat. Agatha would absolutely lose it if she knew Rio was staying so close. The thought alone is enough to make you hesitate. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Rio tilts her head, her smirk widening. “Come on, don’t be shy. It’s just a drink. I promise to behave.” The way her eyes linger on yours suggests otherwise, but before you can overthink it, you find yourself nodding.

“Fine,” you say, stepping into the hallway. “But just one drink.”

—

Her room is nearly identical to yours—same generic hotel furniture, same muted colour scheme. Yet somehow, it feels different. Maybe it’s the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air or the way she moves through the space, effortlessly commanding it.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she says, gesturing to the small seating area by the window. She picks up the room service menu, scanning it quickly before glancing at you. “What’s your poison?”

You hesitate, torn between wanting to play it safe and giving in to the pull of her presence. “Surprise me.”

Rio raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased with your answer. She picks up the phone and orders a bottle of wine and a few small plates—cheese, fruit, nothing too heavy. As she hangs up, she turns back to you, her expression casual but her eyes sharp.

“So,” she says, sitting across from you, “how’s life working for Agatha Harkness? She still a miserable old witch?.”

You laugh, a dry, nervous sound. “That’s one way to put it.”

She studies you for a moment, her smile softening. “Must be exhausting, though. Always running around, making sure everything’s perfect for her.”

You shrug, trying to downplay it. “It’s a job.”

“Need me to treat you right again?” She hums, leaning back in her chair.

Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Rio gets up to answer it, returning with the wine and food. She pours two glasses, handing one to you before settling back into her seat. The wine is rich and smooth, warming you from the inside out.

The conversation flows easily, the tension between you both ebbing and flowing like a tide. You talk about everything and nothing—her travels, your work, the absurdities of life in politics. But every now and then, her hand brushes against yours, her eyes lingering just a moment too long.

By the time you finish your second glass, the room feels warmer, and the air is charged with something electric. You know you should leave; staying here could lead to more trouble if Agatha ever finds out. But when Rio leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, you forget all the reasons you shouldn’t be here.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her breath warm against your skin.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admits, her lips curving into a sly smile.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and before you can second-guess yourself, she closes the distance between you. Her lips are soft but insistent, her hands sliding up your arms as she pulls you closer. The kiss is a slow burn at first, but it quickly intensifies, her hunger igniting something deep within you.

She stands, pulling you with her toward the bed. Her hands move with practiced ease, unbuttoning your shirt and sliding it off your shoulders. You reciprocate, your fingers fumbling slightly as you work to undress her, the heat of her skin beneath your fingertips making it hard to think straight.

You let yourself get lost in her for a while—the press of her lips, the warmth of her hands, the way her body moves against yours. But as her hand trails lower, sliding beneath the waistband of your underwear, a flash of Agatha’s searing glare cuts through your haze of desire.

“Wait,” you blurt out, your hand catching hers before she can go any further.

Rio pauses, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. You gently extricate yourself from her hold, slipping off the bed and gathering your clothes. Rio watches you, her expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, avoiding her gaze.

She doesn’t stop you; she only tilts her head as you open the door and practically sprint out of the room.

When you finally make it back to your room, the tension in your chest eases slightly, but your mind is still racing. You don’t know where this path will lead, but one thing is clear: you’re already in way too deep.

—

The morning dawns bright and early, but you’re already awake—the events of the night before playing on a loop in your mind. Every time you close your eyes, you feel Rio’s lips on yours, her hands on your skin. It’s thrilling, and yet you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest.

You push the thoughts aside as you straighten your outfit in the mirror, steeling yourself for the day ahead. Agatha’s schedule is packed, and you don’t have time to let personal distractions cloud your mind.

By the time you join Agatha in the conference room, she’s already mid-rant about the inefficiency of the staff. You nod along, jotting down notes, doing your best to stay focused. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rio.

She’s standing across the room, deep in conversation with a group of attendees. Her presence is magnetic, and it feels impossible not to look. She catches your gaze and smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief.

You quickly turn back to your notepad, heat rising to your cheeks.

The day continues in a blur of meetings and logistical tasks, but Rio is everywhere—at the coffee station, in the hallway, even lingering near the stage. Every time your paths cross, she gives you that same knowing smirk, and it’s starting to feel less like coincidence and more like intention.

You try to push Rio from your mind, but it’s impossible. Every time you see her, and your heart races. Agatha would never forgive you if she found out, but there’s a part of you that can’t stop wanting Rio. You’re already tangled in her web, and you don’t know how to escape.

—

By the time lunch rolls around, you’re jittery with nerves and something else you don’t want to name. You excuse yourself, slipping out of the crowded room to catch your breath.

But as soon as you step into the quiet hallway, Rio is there.

“Funny seeing you here,” she says, her voice teasing.

You narrow your eyes at her, crossing your arms. “You’re following me.”

She grins, unapologetic. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s fate.”

You roll your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“Come on,” she says, leaning in closer. “Let’s find somewhere a little more private.”

Before you can protest, she’s taking your hand and pulling you down the hallway. You glance around nervously, hoping no one sees you as she leads you into an empty meeting room.

The door clicks shut behind you, and the air between you shifts instantly. Rio steps closer, her hands finding your waist as she presses you against the wall.

“I’ve been thinking about last night,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your ear. “About how good you felt.”

Your breath catches and before you can respond, her mouth is on yours. The kiss is hungry, desperate, and it sets your skin alight.

Her hands roam over your body, tugging at your clothes as she deepens the kiss. You melt into her, your own hands tangling in her hair as a moan escapes your lips. 

Her hand dips and she cups your heat through your underwear making you gasp, your hips instinctively rolling against her palm. The arousal from last night springs back to the forefront, hitting you like a wave, and it doesn’t take long before you’re keening into her touch, your body responding to her every movement.

“Fuck, you’re so needy for me,” Rio whispers against your neck, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric to find you slick and wanting.

She teases you at first, circling in maddeningly slow strokes. Your knees go weak, and you clutch at her shoulders for support as a soft whimper escapes your lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” She murmurs, her tone dripping with mock innocence.

You shake your head frantically, unable to form words. She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before thrusting her fingers inside you.

Your moan is loud and unrestrained, echoing in the empty room. Her movements are confident and precise, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every thrust and curl of her fingers.

The tension coils tighter in your stomach, your body arching into her as you chase that blinding release. But just as you’re about to tip over, the door bursts open.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Your stomach drops as Agatha storms into the room, her face a mask of fury.

“Get your hands off her!” she snaps, striding over and grabbing you by the ear. You yelp in surprise as she pulls you away from Rio, who just withdraws her hand and leans against the wall, utterly unbothered.

“Ms Harkness, I—” you start, but she cuts you off with a glare that could freeze fire.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she says sharply. She turns her attention to Rio, her voice dripping with venom. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Rio shrugs, her smirk widening. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.”

You glance back at her, your face burning with embarrassment and frustration. She meets your gaze, her eyes glinting with amusement as she slowly lifts her fingers to her mouth. She licks them clean, her tongue curling around them provocatively, and your breath catches.

Agatha doesn’t miss the exchange. “We’re leaving. Now.” Agatha’s fingers tighten around your wrist as she pulls you into the hallway. She’s angry, but there’s something more beneath that rage. She doesn’t want to lose you.

You try to pull away from Agatha's grip, your heart pounding in your chest, but the heat of the kiss is still fresh in your mind. Guilt claws at you, but there's something else, something dangerous, urging you to give in to the chaos.

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idk how I feel about this, I had all the ideas and then I lost them all trying to tie up the ending 😭

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taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33 @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @dont-blame-me-she-made-me-crazy @seaoflittlefires @sapphic-murder

[emojackolantern]

update: it's happening but very slowly bc i insist on making things hard for myself