#even if it turns out the light Does give off UV I’m still gonna go to the dentist

[elprupneerg]

Depending on exactly what curing light my dentist was using to set my cavities all summer, I might’ve been getting a bit of UV exposure inside my mouth if the wavelengths got low enough. It’s unlikely (most curing lights seem to use visible blue light to get things to solidify, not anything with UV), but it IS a very funny thought

[birdsandspades]

Ice Pack (A Todoroki Shoto Oneshot)

-The dorm is fresh out of ice packs. Lucky for you someone happens to know where to find one. 

Word Count- 3,122

*This is my first BNHA fanfiction so i’m sorry if its crumby. I just think Todoroki is really neat. 

----

You pressed a finger into the skin of your arm, hissing as the red gave way to white. Turning around, you looked over the rest of your body in the gym bathroom mirror.

“I think this is my worst sunburn yet. I really should have put on more sunscreen…” You frowned, wrapping a towel around your body. 

Your quirk had been a wonderful gift, the first in a long line of quirkless family members. The day you manifested it you could have sworn your father cried. 

“A hero, we're gonna have a hero in the family!” 

You remembered the fond words as you looked down at the pile of clothes on the locker room bench. It sure didn’t feel like a gift right now. You picked up your shirt, inching it over your burning skin. Each scape of the fabric drawing out a new string of curses. 

“Hey, are you dressed yet, Mina is wait...oww,” Jiro looked over your reddened back, wincing as you pulled the shirt over it.

 “Yeah, oww”, you sulked. You glared down at your pants, not ready to endure the pain they would cause your legs. 

“Tell me again how your quirk does all of that again.” She motioned to the entirety of your burned body. 

“Well, I'm like a solar flare. My body stores a large amount of heat, and if I save up enough of it I can make flames. If I have a big enough amount of it I can even produce light.” 

She nodded along, shuttering as you shimmied into your jeans. 

“But the more I use it, the more I'm exposed to the UV radiation I'm putting off. Eventually, if I use it too much. Well, I get this stupid sunburn.” 

“I still don’t get why you get so burnt, didn’t the department of support make you that sunscreen a few months ago for it?” She gave off a chuckle, recoiling at the faces you were making while you slid on your shoes. 

 “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s working…” , you trailed off, looking at the bottle of sun protectant stuffed in your gym bag. You picked up the rest of your belongings, motioning towards the door. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow, let's just go back to the dorms so I can take these things off again.” 

Jiro held open the door, laughing as you waddled past her. 

----

You stepped into the common room, smiling at your classmates sitting on the couch. 

“Who ordered the L/N F/N, extra burnt?”,Sero teased from his seat, elbowing a giggling Denki.

You gave him a sarcastic laugh, throwing your gym bag at him.

Kirishima turned his attention away from the t.v, his eyes slowly roaming over your red arms. “Hey L/N-chan, how was training…?” 

You gave him a sad smile, “Exhausting, but I think I finally got my flashbang technique down!” 

“Jesus Glowstick…”, Bakugou walked past you from the laundry room, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he pressed a rough hand onto your forearm. 

You smacked him away, cursing at the now burning skin. You looked up, meeting his glare as he walked off down the hallway. You hated that nickname and he knew it. He had picked it out after the licensing exam, going as far as to even suggest it for your permanent hero name. Most people thought he chose it after your quirk, you did after all have a nifty move called glow. You had made yourself useful during the search and rescue part of the exam, using your quirk to illuminate your body as you searched for survivors among the rubble. Many of the students had commented on it after the exam, envious of the power giving you such a high boost on your score. But Bakugou had chosen the nickname for a different reason.

He had had the pleasure of running into you after the exam later that night in the kitchen. Your body red and raw from over exerting yourself during the test. “You're so red you're practically glowing. You should get a support item if your weaknesses are that obvious Glowstick ” , he mocked, poking your sunburn and he walked past you to the common room. 

“I’m going to grab some ice packs from the freezer and call it a night.” You patted Jiro on the back before walking to the kitchen. 

----

You had been looking for the ice packs for about twenty minutes when Midoriya walked into the kitchen.

“Hey Midoriya-kun, have you seen the ice packs? I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t seem to find them.” You pulled your head out of the freezer, turning to him. 

He gave you a sheepish smile, holding up the warm gel packs. “I’m sorry L/N-chan, I took them out last night and forgot to put them back when I woke up.” 

You shut the freezer door, taking the packs from his hand. You squished a few of the warm beads around the plastic, sighing in defeat. “It’s ok, i’ll use a water bottle or something.”

You trudged past him out of the kitchen and towards the dorm rooms. Usually your sunburns only lasted a few days tops, but this one felt different. The heat radiating off of it alone was enough to tell you that it was deep. You really should have put on more sunscreen. 

You bumped into a stationary mass, the points of contact stinging as you looked up.

Todoroki’s hold on his phone slipped as it fell to the ground. “I’m sorry L/N-chan, I was reading something on the news.” His gaze fell on you, taking in the fluorescent flush of your skin. “Your sunburnt.” 

You took a step back, looking away in an attempt to hide the rising heat in your cheeks. “No, I'm sorry Todoroki-kun, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you ok?” You reached down, picking up his phone. 

“You should use the ice packs in the freezer.” He slipped the phone out of your hand, careful not to graze your sensitive skin. “ It might help with the discomfort.” 

“Oh, Midoriya was using them so they are warm now. I’m gonna use this water bottle for a bit.” You shook the bottle, giving him a soft smile. “I’m sorry I made you drop your phone, I hope it's ok!” You shimmied around him, giving him an awkward wave as you made for your dorm room. 

Todoroki raised his hand slightly, watching as you rushed down the hallway.

----

You had been working on your homework for a few hours in an attempt to keep your mind off the multi toned boy down the hall. You groaned, letting your head fall on the table. The second hand embarrassment burning the skin on your neck further. Functioning had not been at the forefront of your mind when your eyes met his in the hallway. That was painfully obvious as you replayed your awkward retreat over in your head. 

“You could have just talked to him, it's not that hard to talk to people F/N. He was being nice and you ran away.”

You continued to grumble to yourself, angry that once again your lack of social skills had robbed you of an opportunity to talk to your crush. 

This hadn’t been the first time you had made a fool of yourself in front of Todoroki, nore the second or third. The boy seemed to be a magnet for your most awkward encounters. 

----

You could remember the first time he talked to you. You were standing in the tunnel waiting for the first of the sports festival games to begin, the echo of the audience ringing through your ears. You peaked your head out from the entrance, scanning over the sea of people in the stands. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, the thumping in your ears deafening as you cowered back into the tunnel.

A warm hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your eclipsing panic attack, the sound finally coming back to your ears as you looked up. 

“I heard that if you picture everyone in underwear, it makes it less scary. I don’t understand why, but maybe it will help?” 

Your eyes met a familiar mismatched set, the hardness you were used to was replaced with concern as he looked over you. 

You had grown attached to them in the time you had spent in class together, the small glimpses you caught stirring the butterflies in your stomach everytime they looked your way. 

The fluttering in your stomach started to stir per usual, the lump in your throat expanding as you searched the crevices of your brain for something to say. 

“Hi.”

He gave you a confused look, “Hi.” Shifting on his feet, he stood in silence. As if waiting for you to say something else. After a moment he gave you a small nod, disappearing into the crowd of waiting students.

----

A soft knock on your door startled you, your knee bumping into the underside of your desk. 

Standing up , you rubbed the stinging skin as you walked over to the door. Turning the knob, you pulled it open. 

“Hi Todoroki-kun.”, you stared at the boy in front of you. Unsure what warranted a visit so late at night, or really at all. 

“Hi L/N-chan.” His look was blank as he stared back at you. He shifted on his feet slightly, pushing his hands into his pocket.

“Um, is there something you need…?”, you broke the silence finally. Your eyes met his once again before looking away, focusing on the door behind him. 

“I wanted to bring you the ice packs from the freezer…”, he trailed off, looking down the hallway. “But they were gone again. So I figured, I could offer you a hand instead.” He extended his right hand a bit, offering it to you. 

You looked between him and his hand a few times, trying to connect just what exactly he ment. “Um, it’s ok Todoroki-kun. It’s late and you're probably really sleepy! Plus it doesn’t hurt that much anymore, so you don’t need to worry about it! I have my water bottle and I can…” 

He reached up, pressing his cold palm to your forehead. Your mind calmed as the soothing feeling sunk into your skin. You closed your eyes, leaning into his hand. Letting out a soft sigh, your hands reached up, circling around his wrist as you pulled him closer.

“I used to do this whenever my siblings were sick. They said it made their fevers feel better, is it helping you too?” He craned his neck, peeking under his arm to see your face. 

You gave him a small nod, sinking into his touch. The first bit of relief washing over your body.

He looked behind you at the desk, opened books and worksheets scattered across it. “I can help you with your homework as well if you like?” 

You opened your eyes, blushing as you met his own. You couldn’t help it. The way he tilted his head, the childlike curiosity that tinted his eyes as he watched you cling to his hand. 

“I don’t want to be a burden…”

“You're not.” He stated bluntly, gently pulling his hand away. 

You took a step back, opening the door wider for him to come in. 

He took a step inside, closing the door behind him. “You didn’t show your room when we did the room contest.” He was scanning over your bedroom, taking in all the things that made it yours. 

“Oh, um. I was kinda late getting moved in so mine wasn’t unpacked yet.” You played with your finger, watching as he walked over to your bookshelves. “It’s mostly manga, I don’t know if…”

“I like manga too.”, Todoroki looked back at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Your room is nice, I think you would have won.” 

“Ah, probably not. Everyone has such fun rooms, mine is pretty bland in comparison.” You waved your hands at the thought, giggling awkwardly. Your eyes went wide as Todoroki unzipped his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders. He draped it over the back of the desk chair before pulling it out to sit down. 

“My jacket is insulated, you wouldn’t really feel my quirk through it.” He stated plainly, unaware of why you were staring at him. 

You gave him a simple “Oh” , before sitting down at the seat across from him. At least he was wearing a tanktop, but that wasn’t helping much either. You turned your attention to the math book in front of you, forcing your gaze off of him. 

He gave you a weird look, watching as you got out your worksheets. Pushing out his seat he walked around the table. Grabbing the chair next to you he pulled it closer before sitting down again. “I can’t reach you from over there.”

Your body tensed up as his shoulder rubber yours, the coolness of his exposed skin slowly permeating your shirt. 

He reached his arm around you, pulling you into his right side. His hand gingerly snaking up the sleeve of your shirt, as he caressed your heated arm. 

“How much have you done so far?” He used his left hand to flip through your papers, looking over the work you had completed. 

“Only a few problems.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands under the table. 

“Hm?” He leaned in closer, his eyebrow raised as he tried to understand whatever you had just muttered out. 

“J-just a few.” You spoke a little louder, earning a nod from him as he turned to the next page of your book. 

He slid the paper over to you, motioning for you to start so he could watch your work. 

You sat there for a moment, looking at your book. “Um Todoroki-kun, i’m right handed.”

His eyes shot open, letting go of your arm. “I’m sorry, go ahead.” Crimson creeped up his cheeks as he rested his hand back in his lap, unsure where to put it at that point.

----

He watched you work over a few problems, correcting you as mistakes popped up. He had a way of explaining this that just made everything make sense, if he had been teaching the class maybe you would have had a better grade by now. 

After a while you were out of homework to work on, the silence settling between you both as you packed up your books for class the next day.

“Thank you for helping me Todoroki-kun, I don’t think I could have finished it without you.” You turned towards him, offering him a small smile. 

“I enjoyed helping you, thank you for letting me.” He returned the smile, chuckling lightly. 

Your lips parted slightly, blinking slightly at the sight before you. You were in awe, not only had you seen him smile twice in one night, but that was the first time hearing him laugh as well. Heat blossomed up your cheeks as you gawked at the now very confused boy in front of you . 

Todoroki reached out, palming your face as if it was a ball. “I think your sunburn is getting worse. You look even redder.” 

“That isn’t the sunburn…” Your words were muddled by the hand over your face, the concerned look in his eyes visible through his spread finger.

He pulled back, clearly flustered by the mistake. “ O-Oh, i’m sorry.” He stuttered out, avoiding the amused look on your face. 

You reached for his right hand, bringing it back up to your cheek. “It’s ok, I didn’t mind.” 

He chewed on the inside of his lip, lost in thought as he searched your eyes. He had never been good with social cues, he could blame that on his father. But right now, it felt a lot like what he thought reciprocated feelings would be like. He ran his thumb over the skin of your cheek, wishing his other hand was just as cold. If it had been then he could have cradled your face, touched you just a bit more. 

You looked down at his left hand, his fist clenched around the fabric of his sweatpants. You reached down, pulling it away from it's grip and up to the other side of your face.

He was hesitant to touch you with it, the heat from it was sure to cause you irritation. That's what it had always done for him, an uncomfortable reminder of why his mother was no longer home. What had hurt those closest to him. What he didn’t want to be. 

He ghosted the tips over your cheek, testing the waters. He watched for a reaction, searching your face for uncertainty. When he saw none he closed the gap, letting the reservations pass as the anxiety melted out of him. 

You were naturally warm, just like him. He had felt it on multiple occasions. The arm brushes in the hallway, the finger grazes when he handed you something, the radiating heat he could feel just from being near you. He liked it, you were like the sun to him. That little bit of warmth kept him going most days, but he was getting addicted. But what would more feel like? Would you want more, would you want him?

You could see from the look in his eyes that he was debating something. Weighing the options in front of him. You reached out cupping his cheeks with your own hands. You ran your thumb over the bottom of his scar, his skin soft as it gave way to the soft pressure of your fingers.

He relaxed into your touch, whatever had been plaguing his thoughts was no more.

“Todoroki?” 

He hummed in reply, eyes still closed. 

“Can I kiss you?”

He opened his eyes, giving you a skeptical look. He opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. Shaking his head he let out a soft chuckle. 

He leaned in, brushing his lips over your own. “I should have asked you that.” His lips met your own, molding to the shape of the smile that tugged at the corners.

His were warm, the perfect temperature between hot and cold. He lingered for a moment, extending the duration of the contact. No one wanted to pull away, but the need to breathe was bubbling up. 

You stared at him breathless, speechless as you processed the lasting heat on your lips. 

“Todoroki I…” 

He cut you off, “I can stay a bit longer if you want. You're still pretty warm.” He gave you a shy smile, taking your hand in his own. 

You smiled brightly, squeezing his hand in yours. “I would like that.”

[ill-skillsgard]

Blue and Yellow - Part 8 - Axel Cluney

Warning: 18+ sex/mature themes/strong language/medical themes/mentions of blood+injuries/hospitals/violence/drug and alcohol use **In this part: drug and alcohol use, violence, mentions of blood, violence/assault, mentions of alcoholism, smut**

Description: Saberrah Asta, Featherfall General’s newest nurse, finds herself entangled in the complicated life of an underground boxer with a slew of problems she can’t fix. Will Axel’s love knock out the voices telling her to run, or will their explosive romance fizzle as fast as it flourished?

Note: Thanks to everyone who continues to enjoy this series and reblogs the chapters as they come out. I really, really appreciate your support. If you can’t reblog, consider dropping a like and a comment... It really makes me happy and lets me know I’m not wasting my time posting on this website. I hope you enjoy!

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

In the ruddy glow of the UV lights, eyes stuck on a woman twirling around a powdered pole. She started the show wearing a yellow underbust corset, a ruffled skirt and a matching bikini top. The music came on, and the corset flew off with it as she sidled up to the chrome pole and arched her back until her crown touched the floor. Sabi watched the sweat drip from a man's forehead onto the edge of the stage. The dancer rolled over the droplet, absorbing the perspiration, and continued bending her body into impressive shapes.

Not all eyes focused on the yellow-clad exotic dancer commanding the stage with her long legs, nine-inch stiletto boots and stiff, blond wig. Some eyes were on the girls swapping empty cups for full ones, some on the women grinding on laps, and one set scanned the floor for lost money. One of the first things Sabi noticed about the strip club—other than its low, dark, and claustrophobic ceiling and walls—was that the carpeting around the stage littered with dollar coins. They glinted under the disco lights and beckoned her pick them up. She'd asked Axel why there were so many toonies on the floor, and he told her it was because people weren't allowed to tip with coins, and since the lowest notes were shiny fivers, the dancers often came away with a day's worth of money in two songs' time if their patrons were generous.

Sabi collected the coins, stored them in the pockets of her scrubs and until she swapped them for gin and tonics.

Arty sat on the other side of a horseshoe-shaped table, gawking up at the dancers like a boy witnessing his first Christmas tree. Only between songs did he shut his mouth and make his way over to his cousin to ask, "did you see that? Did you see her? I think she likes me. Think I should buy a dance from her?"

Axel spread out his hand and waited for Sabi to take hold. When she did, Axel pulled her from her seat and asked for a cigarette since his pack had run out on the trip to Nikki's. They went outside and stood under a neon sign of a buxom woman riding a sausage in cowboy boots. The sign flashed, and the large-breasted rider's hat came off. Axel lit his cigarette first and swapped it with Sabi's dry one.

Sabi looked around the lot, then back at Axel, who leaned against the brick wall, blowing smoke rings into the night air under the deep red glow. The weed had worn off during the ride up and left a residual sleepiness Sabi continued to chase off by flexing her toes and noticing how plain she looked, still dressed in her hospital scrubs.

"So, why do you guys call it Sticky Nikki's?" Sabi asked.

Axel's mouth tilted to one side, smiling as he exhaled. "Most people say it's because the dancers here don't shower, but it's really because of the bathrooms."

Sabi's full bladder clenched. "What about them?"

"Every surface of the bathrooms besides the toilet seats are covered with oil."

She contorted her top lip in disgust. "Um, why?"

"So people don't do coke in there."

"I don't understand."

"You can't bust lines on a greasy surface. The coke will stick and clump up. They've been raided before, so I guess they took that route. Now people just do coke in the VIP booths or in their cars."

"Wow, that's very... Innovative?"

A yellow Firebird chugged into a parking space across the lot, headlights closing before the engine cut. The vehicle caught Axel's attention, and he threw his half-smoked cigarette on the ground to stamp it out.

"Come on. Let's get back inside—"

"AXEL?"

"Oh, fuck."

"Axel! Hellooo!"

The driver stepped out of the Firebird onto the asphalt in strappy silver heels coiling up her naked shins and thighs. Her matching dress ended at her hips, revealing a small triangle of silver between her legs as she walked and urged the dress down. The unforgiving material slid back up as she trotted toward Axel and Sabi, bangles, necklace and dangling earrings jingling as she went. The woman wore a bright pink, faux fur bolero around her shoulders with her silvery hair piled high on her head. Sabi noticed large, pierced nipples straining through the Mylar dish towel of a dress and an illegible tattoo seated between her breasts.

"Oh, Bluebear! C'mere handsome! Give me a hug right now!" The thin, knobby woman threw her torso at Axel, knocking him into the brick wall. He returned a brief hug and dropped his arms, but the woman clung to him and kissed his cheek. She clutched his face and peppered his jawline with kisses. "Oh my God, I can't believe you're here! Did you come just to see me?"

Axel chuckled nervously and pushed her off with two hands on her fur-lined shoulders. The woman ignored Sabi and continued trying to land kisses on Axel's face and hands.

"Marley, calm down, Jesus," Axel said.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're here. I've been thinking about you. You never call?"

"Busy. Always busy."

"Apparently not too busy to be here."

Axel nodded to his left, where Sabi stood, stunned. "You can thank her and Arty for dragging me out."

Marley gave Sabi a quick glance, then turned her attention on Axel with a broad smile full of crooked teeth. "Are you gonna watch me dance tonight?"

"No, Marley. That's weird."

"Oh, come on, Bluey! We're not related anymore since Greg and Juney divorced," she giggled. "I'm fair game."

Sabi fluttered her lashes and scoffed. "Excuse me, Marley, is it?"

"Yeah?"

"Take your fucking hands off my boyfriend."

Marley stepped back, one heel wobbling on a loose stone. Axel pressed himself flat to the wall. The vicious edge of Sabi's voice cut through the din of music filtering from the inside, leaving the three of them in strained silence. Sabi took one last puff of her cigarette and flicked it at the dancer's feet. Her last few drinks curdled her blood and pumped her chest full of adrenaline.

"Damn, you're a feisty one," said Marley with a scoff. "Axe, are you just gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Axel nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. You should go inside, Marley... Before you catch hands."

"And a cold," Sabi spat, ridiculing the woman's outfit with a furrowed brow and blazing eyes.

"Wow, that's fucking rude. Can't believe you, Blue."

The front door swung open, and Arty came stumbling out with another couple of friends who'd driven up to the strip club with them. In his drunken haze, Arty missed the tension and gasped at Marley.

"Mar-Mar!" He approached her with his thick arms akimbo. Marley ducked away from the large man's embrace. "What's the matter?"

"Blue's girlfriend is the matter."

Sabi clenched her fists as the cousins murmured in surround sound. Axel caught Sabi's arm and tugged her back into the club as she twisted her neck, eyes sweltering on the blond woman. Once inside and clear of the entrance, Axel spun her to face him.

"Easy, Saberrah. Easy. Deep breath."

Instead of inhaling, Sabi launched herself at his chest, poking his sternum with a stiff finger. "I'll gouge that bitch's eyes out, Axel. I promise you!"

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "Don't. I know you're pissed, but you can't let her get to you. That's just Marley for ya. She's a dumbass."

"She's gonna be a dead dumbass!"

Axel smothered Sabi in his arms, brushed his fingers through her hair and shushed her until she stopped struggling. "Don't fucking start a fight at Sticky Nikki's, babe. You don't want to be that person."

The multi-coloured lights shifted along the walls and floor, illuminating the couple as Axel held Sabi's head in place between his hands. He ducked to kiss her in hopes some affection might disperse her anger, but it only fanned the flame.

"Who the fuck does she think she is walking up and practically making out with you? Like what the fuck is that, Axel? Have you fucked her before? Why did she do that?"

"What the fuck, Sabi? Of course, I haven't fucked my fucking cousin."

"She sure acts like there's a fucking chance!"

The bouncer at the door caught wind of the heated exchange unfolding between the bar and the tables. He snapped his thick fingers at Axel.

"Take it outside, man!"

Axel nodded, gave a courteous wave to the bouncer, and guided Sabi to a darker corner. "Babe, come on. It's done."

"No, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have let you get me drunk. We're broken up. I shouldn't even be here with you. Look what I'm wearing, Axel. This is fucking ridiculous."

Desperate terror broke Axel's composure, and he gathered her in his arms, clamping her shoulders. "Don't fucking say that. We're not broken up. Please, Sabi, don't do this to me again. I thought we were cool?"

"No, we're not fucking cool! You're a goddamn liar, and your stupid family are a bunch of fucking lunatics!"

"I know they are, I know, but please, God, just don't fucking do this, Sab. We're together. I'm here. I won't ever lie to you again, I swear on my mother's life. Can we please just forget about this and go home? Let's go home, babe."

"Why are you like this?" Sabi moaned. Her head spun, senses awash in cheap beer and liquor, anxiety mounting. She begrudged her furious outburst, but it wouldn't subside no matter how loud her inner reason screamed out to stop. "Why did I ever get involved with you?"

"Sabi, Sabi, please," Axel's tone flattened into a serious line. Sobered and despairing, Axel bent at the knees to meet her eyes, hands squeezing her arms. "Baby, I love you. I love you. Don't talk like that. Jesus, I've never loved anyone in my fucking life the way I love you. I'm sorry I'm not perfect, but please, don't do this to me again. You're just drunk, babe. Come on, we'll go home and sleep it off."

A bubble burst in Sabi's throat, and she whimpered. Close to tears, she buried her face in his chest and threw her arms around him. Axel melted into the embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her in the UV light, white tank top glowing pale blue.

Sabi mumbled incoherently until Axel pulled away and asked what she said. She sniffled and wiped her nose, muttering, "I love you, too. I love you so much, and I hate it."

The bouncer kept eyes on the arguing couple until yelling from outside the club took priority. As the stage lights dimmed and the flaring shower of red and blue sprayed the stage, Axel took Sabi's hand and led her to a row of curtained booths. He pushed her through a heavy flap into a cubicle with a C-shaped couch and a small television on a shelf displaying a feed of the stage. To the right, on a small ledge, was an empty cup containing a few torn condom wrappers. Potlights behind the red leather sofa soaked the space and reflected off the mirrors on the ceiling and floor. Sabi chuffed as Axel pulled her close and kissed her.

"This place is disgusting, Axel."

"I fucking told you! But you wanted to come. We could have gone home and cuddled and went to bed, but you wanted to go out."

"I haven't partied in a long time. Thought it would be nice to do something fun."

"Strip clubs aren't my idea of fun," Axel said.

"What? You don't like tits in your face? Looks like the last ones in here had a great time," Sabi indicated the square foil packets in the plastic cup.

Axel sat on the lumpy cushions and pulled Sabi onto his lap. "The only tits I want in my face are yours."

"But mine aren't huge like theirs."

"You mean they're not pumped full of silicone? Oh, no," Axel rolled his eyes.

"Did you mean that?" Sabi sniffled. "Do you really love me?"

Axel stared up at her with his arms around her waist, eyes blasted open and shining as his bottom lip wobbled. "Sab... I've never loved anyone. Up until we met, I didn't think it was possible. I thought maybe I was fucked up and emotionally damaged. Maybe I saw my parents hate each other so hard, it ruined any chance of me wanting a relationship. And I'm sorry my family is so fucked up. I'm trying hard not to be like them. I've always wanted to do better, and then I met you, and everything changed. I love you."

Thunder rolled through Sabi's skull. The alcohol fuzz and adrenaline receded, exposing an agitated sore through the air of Axel's confession. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Axel returned the motion with a tilt of his head and two roaming hands. He hoped he was in the clear, that Sabi wouldn't turn around and chastise him or claim they weren't together. The unburdening of truth left his chest empty but warm. Axel had practiced his speech in several forms, never once thinking he'd deliver it to Sabi in the VIP booth of a strip club after she threatened to kill one of his cousins.

"Please, Axe, please... Don't lie to me ever again. I want you to tell me the truth about everything. You can't sit here and tell me you love me if you intend to lie again."

"I won't lie. I swear. You're everything to me, babe. Just stay with me. Don't say we're not together... I can't stand the sound of that."

"We are together," Sabi said, pressing her forehead to his. "We're together."

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips.

They stayed in the booth, kissing and holding each other while Aerosmith, Motley Crue and Whitesnake played over the PA system. Sequestered from their group, the couple talked shit about Axel's cousins and poked fun at themselves for indulging the white trash rhapsody they so often condemned. Sabi fought off her sleepiness by teasing Axel until he couldn't stand her grinding and whispers. Still, her intoxication erased all bashfulness, and she climbed off his lap to dance for him when Cherry Pie by Warrant blasted over the sound system.

"Oh, nurse, are you gonna make me feel better?" Axel asked.

"My routine is all method. Nurse by day, slut by night," Sabi giggled.

"I like that. You should get up on that stage and shake that sweet booty. Show those girls what it's all about."

Sabi whirled around, cheeks prickling red. "No way. I'm not dancing in front of those gross old dudes and your cousins."

Axel chuckled until he sighed. "Speaking of my stupid-ass cousins... We should probably find them. I'm about ready to split from this festering anal scab. What do you think?"

"It would be nice to get out of these scrubs. I feel like a total nerd."

"You wear it well, babe. Real well."

The two left the booth, skirted the tables and found Arty engaged in conversation with Jack, another one of their cousins, at the opposite corner of the club. For once, Arty wasn't gawping at the dancers but motoring through an explanation until he caught sight of Axel and Sabi. He slammed his fist on the table, startling Jack and sloshing beer over the plastic cups.

"There you fucking are! Christ, I was looking all over for you! Thought you left until I saw the Monte still in the lot. Where the fuck have you been?"

"We were just talking."

"Marley's pissed. Said she's gonna have the guys throw you both out."

Axel jeered. "Yeah, whatever. Marley's a fucking cunt, and we're about ready to take off anyway."

"Hey, I got a little something, Axe. Wanna pitch on this gram?"

Sabi cocked her head until Arty flashed a small vial he'd been holding in his meaty palm. She looked to Axel, then back at Arty, who pumped his eyebrows. Jack, their younger, skinnier and quieter cousin, hid a grin behind a crudely tattooed fist. It clicked then that the two had already partaken, and the full effects motored through their mouths and tapping feet.

"Man, fuck that shit," Axel said.

Sabi's heart raced. She'd never seen cocaine before, and the thought of Axel snorting drugs filled her with an itchy sensation that wasn't as worrisome as she thought. Memories of overdose patients riddled her brain, drowned only by the glamour and taboo of the powder in Arty's hand. She pinched the inside of her cheek between her teeth and looked up at Axel, squeezing his hand.

"What? You wanna do some?" He asked in a lowered voice.

"I don't know," Sabi shrugged. "I've never tried it before."

"It's really not that great."

"Well..."

"Come on, Blue."

Axel let out a hiss of air. "You only want me to so I'll pitch on it."

"Nah, you don't have to. My treat," said Arty. "You don't owe me for the 'dro either. You guys said you wanted to party, so let's fucking party."

Inside the Monte Carlo, Arty and Jack took the backseats, and Sabi sat upfront while Axel dipped his house key into the vial. Arty and Jack had already tipped a pinch onto the backs of their hands and shot it up their nostrils with ease, roiling their noses around and sniffling as the substance absorbed. The key came out with a small white peak and soon disappeared up Axel's right nostril. He sat back, eyes wide as he sniffled and cleared his throat, blinking wildly until he smiled and looked back at his cousins.

"Jesus."

"Right? It's good blow. None of that fenny bullshit. Don't worry, we already tested it."

Jack tapped the fanny pack around his waist. "Naloxone, just in case. Playin' it smart after Tracy."

Arty sighed, "rest in peace."

Sabi's palms and feet moistened as Axel dipped the key in the vial again and came up with a much smaller amount of powder. He twisted in the seat and handed the vial to Arty. "Ready?"

"Um... I don't really know what to do," said Sabi.

"Here," Axel pressed her left nostril shut with the tip of his middle finger. "When I say so, inhale like you're trying to hawk a loogie."

Sabi made a look of disgust until Axel brought the edge of the key to her nose.

"Okay, go."

Powder shot into her nasal cavity, coating the walls and setting off her salivary glands. After a few seconds, she felt her nose dripping and sucked the fluid back until her throat went numb. She hauled the mucus into her mouth and swallowed, then ran her tongue over her teeth and gums, feeling nothing.

"Did I do it right?" She asked as her eyelids drew back, and the lethargy gave way to an intense rush of energy.

Axel and his cousins tittered. "Yeah, babe. You did it right."

"Am I supposed to feel like my head is numb?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Jack. "Funny feeling at first, but you'll get used to that. It goes away pretty soon."

Axel shook his head. "Nah, there's nothing to get used to. This is a one-time thing. Just for shits and giggles, okay?"

"Okay," said Sabi as Axel grabbed her hand and squeezed.

In minutes, Sabi's top row of teeth pressed down. Her heart thumped in her chest like a spastic drum, and a sudden urge to kiss Axel overcame her. She leaned forward and crushed her mouth to his, only pulling back when a worried grunt left Arty's throat.

Ahead of the car, a muscular man wearing a braided mohawk stomped out of the club with Marley in tow. The blond pointed directly at the Monte Carlo as another pair of men followed out the door. The one with the mohawk clenched his fists and stomped toward the car, snarling viciously. He rose the hammer of his fist and brought it down in the hood of Axel's prized ride.

"I don't fucking think so," Axel said. "Arty, Jack!"

Arty opened the door and was halfway on the pavement when Axel shot out.

"Yo, what the fuck, man?" Axel yelled.

"You piece of shit! Get the fuck out of here, you pussy bitch!" Marley screeched. "And take your ugly slob of a girlfriend with you!"

Sabi choked on her battering pulse as Axel widened his stance, opening his arms in invitation. Axel chuckled at his assailant, which only toughened the menace on his face.

Axel taunted him. "Come on, cocksucker. I dare you to take your shot. I'll give you one good one, then I'll fuck your shit up so bad your crackhead mom won't recognize you,"

"Get him, Brian!"

"You're making a big fucking mistake. That's the Cobra, ya fuckin' idiot. He's a pro boxer! Like, you're gonna die, dude!" Arty laughed.

"Fuck off, Arty!" Marley stepped up to her cousin but met a wall.

"Why don't you go back inside and suck some meth-head cock for rent? Ya fuckin' slut."

The people gathering around reminded Sabi of Axel's illegal basement fight. Their taunting and jeers sounded just like the rousing of the crowd. Axel bounced on his toes, beckoning the guy with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Come on. Hit me, pussy. I want you to!"

Arty wrestled with Marley until the man took a swing at Axel's face. The boxer dodged the punch and reciprocated as fast as a jolt of lightning, throwing a hook that sent him stumbling backward. A stream of blood burst from his nose. With his fists up, Axel cackled and shifted back and forth, throwing jabs to the air.

"Aw, fuck yeah! Come on, pussy! Let's see if you can land one on me!" He stood still and tapped his cheek. "Right here, motherfucker."

"Fuck him up, Blue!"

Sabi had enough. Her limbs tingled while she got out of the car and took a running start at Marley, who was yelling for her protector to hit Axel. She wound her arm, closed her eyes and thrust forth in a blind fury. When she opened her eyes, Marley had toppled onto her ass, screaming and clutching her face. Her accomplices froze, and the lot went quiet for a breath. Then the doors flew open, and 3 security guards ran out. Sabi scrambled back into the car, chugging air and shaking. She stared at her quaking hands and saw blood on her knuckles. By the time the security made it to the vehicle, Axel had jumped in and locked the doors.

"Holy shit, babe. Holy shit!"

The bouncer who had yelled at them earlier to take their arguing elsewhere banged on Axel's window.

"Out of the car, motherfucker!"

Axel threw up his hands in a shrug. "No can do, muchacho!"

He turned on the engine, throwing light over the group. One guard smacked the hood while the others gathered around Marley to help her stand.

"Oh, Jesus, Axe. What if I broke her nose?"

"I hope you did. Now, let's get the fuck outta here."

Axel revved the engine, threatening to pull forward despite the human barricade in front of the car. He laid on the horn, deafening the yelling into inaudible chaos, then revved again. Pulling forth an inch, the guards and screaming members of the Cluney family dispersed, and once the way was clear, Axel peeled out of the parking lot and sped onto the road toward the city.

 The couple hollered and laughed, speeding down the country line. On the crest of a hill, Axel spotted flashing lights in the distance. He slowed the car and held his breath while Sabi squeezed his thigh. He pulled to the shoulder and waited for the police cruiser to pass. Axel watched in the rearview, then twisted around until the lights disappeared. They both let out heavy sighs of relief.

"Christ Almighty... That was fucking insane."

Sabi held up her quivering hands. "I... I can't believe I did that. Axel, I punched your cousin in the face!"

"You punched through her face. Through it. Fuck! I've never seen a girl rock someone that goddamn hard in my life. It was like... All slow motion for a second. Everyone just stopped."

"Oh my God... Am I gonna go to jail?"

Axel tossed his head back with laughter, clapping Sabi's thigh. "No, babe. You're not going to jail."

"What about your cousins? What if they tell the cops I assaulted her?"

"They got no proof. Well, except the epic shiner Marley's gonna have. But it's Sticky's. Nobody cares if some stripper gets popped in the mug. Happens all the time. It's par for the course, baby. Don't worry."

"Fuck, I think I get why you fight now. I feel so gangster."

"That was so hot, Sab. Not gonna lie. I'm totally switched on."

"Me too."

"I'm not kidding. Look," Axel nodded at his erection pressing against his jeans.

The Monte Carlo slowed over a rocky strip, chucking pebbles and dirt into the stream of the headlights. Axel eased the machine to a stop beside a line of pine trees, hidden from the road going South but exposed to the North. He didn't care. Not when Sabi had her hand buried in his pants, toying with his cock. A moment after he cut the engine, Axel whipped off his seatbelt and chased Sabi to the backseat where the stick shift didn't obscure their reach for each other. Once comfortably splayed on the seat, she tore open his jeans while he lifted his hips. His chucks were another roadblock easily vanquished in their haste to undress. Axel kept his tank top on, lifted Sabi's over her breasts, and pulled down her bra to suck her nipples into his mouth.

"Axe, don't come inside me."

"I won't, baby."

He slipped inside of her, senses heightened by the drugs and adrenaline still raging through his veins. The sensation of her wetness wringing true around his length made him shiver and burn.

"Fucking you without a condom is so much better. Christ, I don't believe what I've been missing."

Axel propped her on his groin, one foot behind either seat as he sank low enough to thrust without bumping her head on the roof of the car. A moan burst from his mouth. He rested his palms on her hips and let his eyes roll from the pleasure of the slick sounds, the wetness coating his length, her dew clinging to his pubic hair.

"Love it when you ride me. God, you have no idea how good that feels, baby."

Despite his claims, Axel lifted Sabi and placed her on her back so he could deliver several harsh thrusts. The cocaine seated his teeth together, imbued him with enough stamina to rock until the car joined in with the momentum. Desensitized, Axel continued the motion, hovering inches above her, pressing kisses to her lips and cheeks.

"Do you love me?"

Sabi stared at the man above her, plunging into her, squeezing her breasts and burying his face between them. Some gelled pieces of his hair fell out of place until she smoothed her palm over his crown.

"Yes... I love you, Axel."

"You sure?" He grunted.

"I'm positive."

"Even though I'm trash? Even though you're better than me?"

"I'm not better than you. What are you saying?"

"Yes, you are. You're perfect. I never wanna lose you. Please, don't say you love me unless you really mean it. Unless you can't live without me."

"I don't want to be without you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Promise you'll love me no matter what."

Sabi giggled as though Axel made a joke. He stopped thrusting, laid his head on her chest and took a deep breath of her sweat and perfume. "I'm for real, Sabberah. Don't leave me again."

"I won't," she said in a small voice. "I love you, Axe. Why do you think I'm here?"

"'Cause, we're drunk and on drugs. I'm afraid you'll wake up sober tomorrow and realize you made a mistake."

Sabi propped her upper body on her elbows and clicked her tongue. "Don't give me a reason to feel like I made a mistake then."

"I won't. I won't, baby, I promise."

"Okay. Good. Now shut up and fuck me hard, you bad, bad man."

~*~

The sky was a gradient of royal blue and violet, crisping along the edge of the horizon when the couple untangled and drove into town. Rundown and exhausted from the night's events, they agreed on a local eatery called Ronnie's Poutine Palace for a needed meal. They wandered into the tiny restaurant and avoided the old man staring at them from the corner behind a newspaper. Sabi felt the grease clinging to her scalp, the sleep pulling her eyes, and the vapour from the grills only made it worse.

The restaurant seemed built into a wide hallway with only a few tables and a flaking mural of a chef caricature holding a dripping plate of fries and gravy. Underneath the cartoon chef, the wall advertised forty different kinds of poutine ranging from classic to mixtures that made Sabi's stomach gurgle unpleasantly. They served all-day breakfast and homemade Pogos and pastries. That morning, the pastry case was bereft of any of the advertised eclairs and cupcakes.

A young, gap-toothed girl came to take their order. Axel requested two coffees, a breakfast poutine and then turned to Sabi with shaded eyes. "What do you want, babe?"

"I'll have the French toast," Sabi said.

"Would you like any powdered sugar or strawberries? They're fresh. Just picked them from Cate's Farm yesterday."

Sabi nodded. "Sold. Uh, hold the sugar, though. Just berries. And maple syrup, please, if you have it."

"Of course."

Axel pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and instructed the girl to keep the change, then added a few dollars to the tip jar. Sabi rooted around in her pockets and found a sticky toonie to add.

"That's nice of you," Sabi commented.

"This place has cured some major hangovers in my day. I owe them my life."

The girl at the counter nodded. "We're open twenty-four hours and deliver all night. This city runs on our poutine."

Axel smiled, wheeling Sabi to a table near the front window.

They dug into their food when it arrived, Axel hacking the fried egg in half, so the yolk spilled over a pile of the greasiest fries Sabi had ever seen. She grimaced as he poked half a breakfast link in his mouth.

"Why not just have breakfast? Why taint perfectly good poutine?" Sabi asked.

"Because you don't just go to Ronnie's and not get poutine. Look at the size of this thing, and for eight bucks? Come on. You can't beat that."

Sabi prodded a heart-shaped strawberry with the tines of her fork and swirled it in a ramekin of syrup before eating it. Axel pointed at the stack of fried bread.

"Now that's gross. I don't know how you can stomach sugar right now. I'd barf."

"French toast is the tits. Don't hate."

"Yeah, but strawberries in syrup? You're weird, kid."

"You're weird. That yolk is all mixed in with the gravy. And the cheese. It's like slime."

Axel made a purposeful slurping sound, grating her nerves. She scrunched her nose and turned away to chew a mouthful of toast without the imagery.

They sipped coffee and ate as much as their stomachs could handle. Sabi blew her nose into a napkin and paled at the white snot. She sniffed the dried, flaky remnants of coke clinging to her nose hairs and smothered a sneeze with the back of her hand. "God, I feel like ass."

"Well, you look great."

Sabi looked down at her wrinkled work uniform. "I've been wearing the same outfit for a full twenty-four hours. How can you even say that?"

"'Cause I love ya."

"Stop," she angled her face.

"What? I don't care what you're wearing, and neither does anyone else. You look cute. Little rough, but we had a long night, didn't we Muhammed Ali?"

"Don't remind me."

Axel put down his fork and wiped his face with a napkin. "Hey, listen. Speaking of that... I wanted to talk to you about... The boxing."

"I'm not becoming a professional boxer, Axel. I already told you."

"No, not that. I mean, I wanna talk about my situation."

"Oh," Sabi chirped.

Axel took in a monumental breath, laid his hands flat on the table and gazed into her eyes until he was sure he had her attention. "I want to be honest with you and say I have no intention of stopping right now. I have a few more fights—"

"Wait, Axel, before you say anything, I have something to tell you as well. That night when I broke up with you for lying to me... I was at the fight. I watched you beat that guy."

"What? You're serious?"

"Yeah. I went out to the corner store for snacks and passed the gym you said you work at, but it was closed. I thought maybe you lied and had gone somewhere else. Maybe to another girl's place or something."

"Sabi, no."

"That's just what I thought. I know you wouldn't cheat on me. Anyway, I went around back, and some guy asked if I wanted to come in for the fight. It all just clicked in at that point. So, I went down there."

"Christ," Axel pinched between his eyebrows. "I don't want you around those maniacs."

Sabi pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through a few pictures until she found the flyer she'd found on the street with Axel's face on it. She held up the screen for him to see.

"What about this? This looks legitimate. You said you don't fight professionally anymore, but why not? You could be something if you tried."

Axel shook his head. "That was a while back."

"So, what? You can do what you love, Axel. Nothing's stopping you."

"Plenty is stopping me, Sab."

"Like what?"

"Like money."

"What do you mean?"

Axel pointed at her phone, grimacing. "See, that fight earned me three-hundred bucks. Do you know how much that fight at Vince's got me?"

"No."

"Three thousand."

"Oh."

"Yeah, and that was on the lower end of the scale. Three thousand for three minutes in the ring."

"But what good is that money if you get busted?"

Axel snickered and stuck out his hand for her to take. "Babe... There's a lot about Featherfall you don't know yet. We don't get busted. Half those bets were cops, lawyers, and shit. Bikers."

"Doctors?" Asked Sabi.

"That's another thing,” Axel said. “Farber... You obviously know him from work."

"I do."

"I don't want you tangled in that life, and Farber won't want one of his subordinates knowing his business."

"Little too late for that," Sabi muttered.

"I'm serious, Sab. Some of those guys are real dangerous."

Sabi leered. "Rufus Farber?"

"Maybe not him on his own, but you don't know the types he runs with."

"Well, I know you, don't I? Are you one of the dangerous types?"

"I'm the type that has debts to pay and doesn't want his girlfriend getting involved in the mess."

"What debts?"

"I don't know, just debts."

Sabi sat back in the booth and crossed her arms. "Thought we were being honest with each other?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it here," Axel gestured at the old man at the other side of the dining area staring at them. He leaned closer, and under his breath, said, "my mom owes some money. I'm trying to dig her out of the hole before she kicks the bucket."

"What kind of debt?"

"Sab..."

"Just tell me."

"The house. The bills. Shit, before I met you, the city shut her water off. She's so fucked, she can't work. My dad left money when he died for her to retire, and she drank and partied it away. So, now I'm cleaning up that mess."

Sabi went quiet for a while, and Axel picked up his fork and combed through the remaining fries for bits of bacon.

"I'm sorry your mom was an alcoholic."

"Is an alcoholic," Axel corrected. "She'll always be one."

"Babe... You're amazing. Helping your mom like that is a testament to how generous and kind you are. I just wish you could help her more legitimately."

"Nothing more legitimate than cash, Sab. That, and how much I love you and need you to stay out of this. Let me figure it out. I don't want you at any more fights."

"Well, I don't want you at them either."

"I have to. I'm locked in for another three matches."

"What if I help you? I make decent money. I can help with her bills."

"You help enough already. Keep your money. It's done, babe. I'm in it for a little while, then I'm out. Maybe I'll go legit after, and you can come watch me fight."

"I've seen it. You're fierce. I never knew you could move that quickly."

"They don't call me Cobra for nothing."

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[dw-writes]

Can I get a request for a John Kennex x Reader? Soulmate Au or maybe even that fate keeps throwing them together? You're freaking amazing BTW *Hugs*

SCREAMS YES??? I LOVE SOULMATE AUS SO MUCH!!!!!! And, I mean, look at him!! What a cutie. What a fucking smartass. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!!!! Also @writerdee1701 here is some John Kennex!! ( @outside-the-government i think ive seen you reblog Kennex stuff but if not!! i’m sorry!)

A soulmate wasn’t something you wanted. You had sat and suffered and cried over thinking that you had one only to lose it because it wasn’t real and for what? Because the world – the universe? – told you that you were supposed to have a soulmate? Because the moment you turned eighteen the first words your soulmate was meant to say to you appeared on your arm?

No way.

So, after months of intensive therapy and accepting a new job in a city on the opposite side of the country, you did what any sane-but-majorly-depressed person would do: you got the tattoo covered.

You brushed your thumb over the healed black band that encircled your left arm, smiling to yourself – your sister, bless her, had suggested adding flowers, and your tattoo artist had been more than happy to include blooming flowers all around the band, even going so far as to outline them in UV ink, so that you could see the pieces that would be covered by the band itself. You tugged the sleeve of your shirt down to your wrist as you walked into the building, ready for another day at work – another case, another job well done.

You sighed and nodded at your MX-43 as you sat at your desk.

“Don’t look so excited to be here.” You looked up at the voice and felt your lips curl in a smile. John Kennex returned it and held out a second cup of coffee. You took with a grateful grin. “Dunno if you heard, but we’re workin’ a case together today,” he said, leaning on your desk.

You arched an eyebrow as you took a slow sip from your cup. It was just how you liked it, and it warmed you from the inside out. “Again?” you finally asked after another deep drink. He nodded. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost say we were partners,” you teased.

“I think the captain likes our closure rate,” he pointed out.

“Uh, you mean my closure rate,” you said as you drained your cup and stood, “You just happen to be along for the ride.”

“Oh?” he challenged.

You nodded and grabbed your things from your desk. “Yeah.”

“Those sound like fighting words,” he remarked.

You hummed. “If they were fighting words, I’d say you were there to look pretty, but that’s Dorian’s job!” you chirped. You wrinkled your nose. “You do give good hugs though, so, there’s that.” You patted his chest as you walked past him. “Let’s go!”

Captain Maldonado leaned out of her office as you and John walked past her with a shout of, “Masks!” Both of you lifted your hands and waved over your shoulders.

You didn’t mind sitting in the back of John’s cruiser with your MX, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo as Dorian and your MX rattled off the particulars of the case. You felt eyes on your face throughout the ride but didn’t look up to meet them. When John pulled up to the crime scene, he waved Dorian ahead with your MX and grabbed your arm before you walked past. It took you a moment to look up and, when you did, he was frowning.

“Where are you?” he whispered. You opened your mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t say here, or thinking about the case,” he murmured, “You didn’t hear a word Dorian said on the way here.”

You sighed. “My sister found her soulmate,” you said as you waved towards the bright light line of the ticker tape. John shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked with you. “It’s funny, she’s been living next door to him for a year while teaching in Scotland, and she didn’t know it was him until she ran into him in the hall during laundry day. He had a bird on his shoulder, this big thing, she sent me a picture of it, actually.” You adjusted your mask and pulled out your phone, opening the picture. It was side by side with another photo, one of a bird with its wing in a splint.

John nodded at it. “What’s that?” he asked.

You smiled to yourself. “Before she left, we found a bird in our building parking lot. It had a broken wing, and Maria, she’s got this huge soft spot for birds, so we took it to the vet and they walked us through how to take care of it.”

“And it’s the same bird her soulmate has tattooed, right?” he asked.

“How, how, how does it know that?” you asked, stopped short of the crime scene. You scratched at your arm through your sleeve. “She got her mark when she turned eighteen just like everyone else, and it was a, a, a set of card suits to a losing hand of poker, which turned out to be the exact same hand that Richard had when he lost a bet that ended up with him applying to college to be a teacher.” You shook your head. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

John’s eyebrows were arched high when you finally looked at him. You ran your fingers behind your ears to adjust your mask while he carefully pulled his off and scratched his chin. “If it makes you feel better,” he said with one of those crooked, amused smiles of his, “I don’t understand it either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel better, John, because no one understands it,” you shot back, puffing your cheeks. You turned on your heel and stalked towards the dead body and Dorian and your MX were patiently waiting for you by.

“I’m just trying to make you feel better!” he shouted after your retreating form.

“A for effort!” you shouted back.

The case was a bust in terms of being complicated – the body was a mess, but there was a phone left behind, and a tagged post from the victim with someone else, a boyfriend, who confessed the moment he saw you rolling up to his apartment by shouting out of his window and jumping from it. He wound up with a broken leg and was sitting for sentencing.

John paused at a desk in the bullpen when the two of you returned. You glanced back quickly to find him talking with Valerie, and smiled, pulling off your mask. Dorian followed after you as you wandered back to your desk.

“What’s your mark?” he asked when you sat down.

You glanced up from setting your mask in the UV sanitizer. “That’s…” You leaned back and cleared your throat. “That’s a little out of the blue for you, D.” You shook your head, then picked up your keyboard and started to type out your report. “What, uh, what gives?”

“Saw you and John talking about soulmates earlier,” he said as he pulled up a chair. When you glanced up, he smirked. “I can read lips,” he answered.

You gently tossed your keyboard away from you and sighed. Your eyes drifted across the bullpen. John’s smile still hadn’t faded. “Do you know Chromes don’t have soulmate marks?” you commented.

“No, no, I didn’t know that,” Dorian replied.

You nodded, “Mhmm.” Then, scrubbed your hands over your face, you tilted your head back over the back of your chair. “Something about the way that the changing of genetic make-up eliminates whatever code is programed in us that makes the soulmate tattoos.” You dropped your hands. “He could pick Valerie and no one would argue about it.”

“You’re jealous,” Dorian replied.

“Not jealous,” you shot back.

Dorian adjusted his feet and leaned closer. “So, what’s your mark?” he asked again.

You wrinkled your nose and sat up, pulling your keyboard back to you. Dorian continued to stare. You turned your arm over and yanked up your sleeve. He took your wrist to turn your arm out more. “I got it covered up,” you said, stroking your thumb over a spot in the middle of the black band. “I kinda had a melt down after my mark appeared, and when I finally started to really believe that a soulmate doesn’t make a person, I got it covered.”

“So, what was it?” he asked again. He pushed your thumb aside and brushed his fingers over the band. As he did so, you felt eyes land on you. You set your cheek on your fist. The lights on the side of Dorian’s face lit up. “I see UV ink,” he said as he continued to trace the tattoo, “Flowers?”

“Moonflowers,” you answered with a shrug, “They only bloom once and in very specific conditions.”

“Like a soulmate,” he added with a smile. He looked back down at the band. “Is that a rectangle?”

You pulled your arm back and tugged the sleeve down. “Yeah,” you said. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. “Yeah, just a rectangle.”

“No, there was something else—”

“Everything okay here?” You and Dorian looked up. John stood in front of your desk, glancing between the two of you with a concerned frown. You scratched your neck and nodded, motioning to your screen. Dorian stood and pushed the chair back where it belonged. “You sure?” John asked you.

You nodded again. “Yeah.” You sat back, adjusting the keyboard in front of you. “I’m gonna stay and finish this report. I’ll send it in for the both of us, okay?”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You smiled. “Get outta here.”

He hesitated by your desk, knocking his knuckles against it. “Let me know if you need help, okay?” he murmured.

You stared at him. “John—”

“I’m goin’,” he sighed.

You fished around in your bag and pulled out a set of wireless headphones, then synced it up to your phone, and got to work. Valerie left with a man you didn’t recognize, and Richard walked out after her a few hours later. Captain Maldonado left shortly after them. The lights dimmed and the MX’s headed off to the elevators that took them down to the basement. You stretched your arms above your head and groaned, then tugged the sleeves of your shirt up and twisted around in your seat.

Someone pulled your headphone off. You jumped. John stepped back, holding his hands up. The set dangled from his fingers.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with an amused smile.

“Why are you still here?” you sighed, rubbing your face. You flopped back into your seat and turned to your computer. John pulled up a chair. He set the headphones down after powering them off, then slid a glass over to you. You stared at it.

“It’s bourbon,” he said with a nod to the glass. You turned your chair slowly until you faced him. “Thought you could use it.”

You picked it up. “You thought right,” you slowly said. He held up his glass. You clinked your own against it with a smile.

As John took a slow drink, he pointed at your arm. You turned it out towards him. “Dorian said it was a moonflower?”

You stopped, the glass to your lips. “Why?” you hesitantly asked.

He stared at your tattoo for a long time. Then, he gulped down the rest of his bourbon and pulled up his sleeve. On the outside of his bicep was a simple rectangle. He turned his arm out and showed you the inside of his arm. The outline of a familiar flower stared back at you. You practically threw your glass onto the desk and slid to the edge of your seat. You traced the flower with a faint touch.

“It was on my leg,” he said after a long stretch of silence. You bit your lip. “Nurse in the ICU was nice enough to draw it better for me after about a hundred ugly little sketches.” You gasped out a laugh, dazed at the fact that it was there, right in front of you. “So, what’s in the rectangle?” he asked.

You glanced up, too engrossed in the fact that your flower was tattooed on his skin. The flower you had thought a good representation of a soulmate - something you made, that was unique, that only appeared after certain conditions were met. You shook your head faintly, and whispered, “The name Reginald in your shitty handwriting.”

“You knew?” he asked.

You licked your lips and hesitantly pulled your hands back. “I dunno, I didn’t know for sure, I hadn’t seen the handwriting since I got it covered up, I—”

John cupped your face in his hands, cutting your sentence off. He leaned in, paused, then closed the gap between you both in a surprisingly soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed.

Soulmate or not, you couldn’t believe that he returned your feelings. You gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him back.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Now that team ITS is playing Phasmophobia on stream (I mean they are when I am sending this) can we get ghost hunters team ZITS?! I'd love to see the full team of morons (affectionate) dealing with ghosts.

I love Team ZITS so much, they’re such morons (affectionate). Just a few notes for this one:

1) CW: swearing

2) This loosely takes place in Phasmophobia. Some details are different/altered to fit the story better

3) Also I would just like to clarify that even though they reference playing Among Us, all my fics are set in the fictional world. I will never write about the real people, only their Hermitcraft characters/personas. 

...

  “Okay, guys.” Impulse addresses his team in the back of their van, handing out pieces of equipment as he talks. “We’ve got a poltergeist living in this house right here. Our job is to get evidence and get the hell out before it kills us. Any questions?”

  Zedaph raises his hand. “Yes, what happens if it kills us?”

  “We die,” Tango says wryly. “Permanently. So don’t get killed.” 

  “I guarantee at least one of us isn’t getting outta here alive,” Skizzleman remarks. “And all the times we played Among Us is telling me it’s gonna be Tango.”

  Tango shoots him a scowl. “Hey!”

  “Well, if you really don’t wanna die first, find some kind of electrical room and send Impulse there,” snickers Skizzleman. 

  Impulse rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Skizz. Anyway, we only have one piece of equipment each so we gotta make sure we work together. Skizz, you’ve got the camera to take pictures of the ghost. Tango, you’ve got the EMF reader so you can gauge the strength of ghostly presences. Zed, you’ve got the temperature tracker so you can check when the rooms get freezing. Everyone understand?”

  “What have you got, exactly?” Skizzleman inquires.

  Impulse holds up the item in his hand. “A flashlight that doubles as a UV light. I’m the one who’s gonna go first into each room and probably get killed in, like, ten seconds.”

  “A true hero,” says Zedaph, nodding. 

  “And don’t forget that the instructions say that if the flashlight beam starts to blink, that means the ghost is hunting,” Tango adds. “We should stick close to you so we know when to panic.”

“Gotcha.”

  The team makes their way towards the dark, dilapidated house. 

  “Man, the only way this could be more stereotypically creepy is if it had cobwebs in the windows,” mutters Skizzleman. “I dunno about you guys but I have zero trouble believing a ghost lives here.”

  Impulse pauses outside the house, glancing back at his friends. “Okay, the name of the ghost is William Thomas. And it said in the instructions that saying a ghost’s name will anger it, so try not to do that.” 

  With that, the four creep into the house. 

  They tiptoe into the first room in the house, Impulse shining his flashlight hesitantly around to make sure they’re alone. He switches to the UV light but no fingerprints show up anywhere.

  “Hey, have you guys heard that song about Shia LaBeouf being a cannibal?” Zedaph asks out of the blue.

  His friends stare at him.

  “No I haven’t, and also, what the hell?” says Tango.

  “I’ve heard it,” Skizzleman says. “What made you think of it NOW of all times?”

  “I was just thinking about how the ghost might be a cannibal and eat our bodies when it kills us, and that made me think of that song and now it’s stuck in my head.” 

  A pause follows this.

  “Aaaaand now it’s stuck in mine too,” Skizzleman sighs. “Great. Thanks.”

  “The image of a ghost feasting on our corpses is stuck in MY head and now I don’t want to move,” Tango says. “So thanks for that, Zed.”

  Zedaph grins to himself. “Anytime.” 

  A tense pause follows this.

  BANG!

  Skizzleman screams. “AHHH, WHAT WAS THAT?!”

  Impulse, heart now racing, instinctively shines his light towards the source of the noise. “I think it came from upstairs! Tango, Skizz, go check it out!” 

  “Why me?!” yelps Skizzleman. 

  “Because you’ve got the camera! Now go!”

  Tango drags a protesting Skizzleman away towards the stairs. 

  “Okay, while they’re doing that, let’s start eliminating rooms as the epicentre,” says Impulse to his remaining friend. “Keep the temperature tracker up.”

  Zedaph nods. “Will do.”

  The two start exploring the downstairs rooms. The kitchen and dining room show no signs of paranormal activity but when they enter the living room, something changes.

  “I’m cold,” Zedaph whispers, the temperature tracker trembling slightly in his hand. “It says three degrees. Not quite freezing yet.”

  “Right, okay… Stay here and monitor the temperature, I’ll go check for handprints by the stairs.”

  He moves off into the hallway and shines the UV light around at the staircase. 

  Upstairs, Skizzleman is clutching the camera so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. “Oh my god, I hate this so much. I feel like I’m gonna have a damn heart attack.” 

  Ignoring him, Tango activates his walkie talkie. “Impulse, can you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” comes Impulse’s crackly voice. “Found anything?” 

  “Nothing yet. We’re just having a look around.”

  “Okay, good. Remember, saying the ghost’s name a lot will make it mad so if you want to aggravate it a bit to get evidence, do that. But make sure you don’t say it too much or it’ll REALLY get angry.”

  Tango nods. “Gotcha. Talk to you later.”

  He puts away the walkie talkie and turns to Skizzleman, who is staring around the dark room with fearful eyes. “H-Hello, Mr William Thomas? Or, uh… Bill? Can I call you Bill?”

  He gets no response from the ghost, so he tries again: “Hey William, do you play Minecraft?”

Tango stifles a laugh.

  A few seconds later, a heavy-looking lamp in the corner tips over and falls all on its own, nearly crushing Skizzleman. 

  Impulse glances sharply up as he hears Skizzleman scream. He immediately hears Tango’s loud voice reassuring him, so he forces himself to relax. Nothing bad is happening. His friends are okay, they’re just a little on-edge, like Impulse himself. He just needs to relax.

  Inhaling deeply, he takes out the plastic water bottle he brought with him. As he sips at the cool water, he hears Skizzleman’s voice yelling from the upstairs bedroom: “HEY BILL, FUCK OFF!”

  Tango’s voice shrieks back, “SKIZZ, DON’T PISS OFF THE GHOST WHO’S TRYING TO KILL US!”

  “IF HE’S TRYING TO KILL US ANYWAY THEN WHY CAN I NOT TELL HIM TO GO FUCK HIMSELF?”

  Impulse chokes on his water. 

  “Impulse, I think Skizz is freaking out,” says Zedaph, peering round the door. “And I’m starting to freak out too. The temperature went below zero, like, six times in a few minutes.”

  “Right, okay, that’s one piece of evidence collected,” Impulse says. “Two more to go, then we can get outta here.”

  As Zedaph opens his mouth to respond, they both hear a loud thumping noise and Skizzleman screaming. 

  His heart leaping into his throat, Impulse and Zedaph dash upstairs at top speed and both almost trip right over Skizzleman on the landing.

  “Skizz, what the hell?!” yelps Impulse.

  Lying face down on the carpet, Skizzleman is glad it’s dark so the others can’t tell how red his cheeks are. “I… tripped over my own feet.” 

  “Oh, I hate you so much.” Impulse hauls his best friend to his feet. “Please tell me you have some more evidence for me.”

  “I got a level 5 reading,” Tango says, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. 

  “Okay, good, that counts. We got freezing temperatures downstairs, so now we just gotta look for-.”

  He breaks off as an ominous noise sounds from downstairs.

  The group stare at each other in terror.

  “Please tell me that was just someone’s stomach,” Skizzleman groans. 

  Impulse’s flashlight beam starts blinking.

  “Run!” Impulse screeches.

  The four scatter.

  Skizzleman and Zedaph dash inside the bedroom and jump into the closet, both breathing hard. They fall silent, listening intently for any sounds outside the closet.

  A minute goes by. Then another. Then a few more.

  “So,” whispers Zedaph. “Come here often?”

  Skizzleman can’t help a quiet snicker, despite the situation. “No, I really don’t. What about you?”

  “Well, oddly enough, this isn’t my first time hiding from a ghost in a stranger’s wardrobe.”

  “That genuinely does not surprise me one bit.”

  Zedaph’s walkie talkie emits a sudden burst of static, giving the two a fright. “Zed, come in. Where are you guys?”

  Zedaph fumbles with the device and hurriedly whispers into it, “Impulse, I think the ghost is still nearby.”

  “Nope it’s not. It’s currently having a very intense staring contest with Tango, so we could do with your help right now.”

  Zedaph and Skizzleman exchange a look of horror.

  Downstairs, Tango has been backed into a corner, frozen with fear as he makes terrified eye contact with the gruesome poltergeist, who is less than three metres away from him. “Impy,” he whispers out the corner of his mouth. “Help me.”

  Impulse dithers by the door, itching to go help his best friend but unsure of exactly how to do that without getting one or both of them killed. 

  Zedaph and Skizzleman appear next to Impulse seconds later. “Can we distract the ghost in any way?” the former asks urgently, as Skizzleman takes a picture of the spirit. 

  Impulse hesitates. “I-I don’t know how we’d do that.” 

  “Well, we have to do something! We can’t just let it kill Tango!”

  The poltergeist moves jerkily to the side, causing Tango to let out a strangled cry and press his back harder against the wall. “Help!” 

  Reacting quickly, Skizzleman snatches the temperature tracker from Zedaph and tosses it at the ghost. It passes right through its body, nearly hitting Tango.

  “Hey, William fucking Thomas, stay the hell away from my buddy!” Skizz yells at it.

  “Dude!” Impulse yelps, as the poltergeist turns on them. “RUN!”

  The three scramble for the door.

  Tango, seeing his chance, dodges around the ghost and follows, almost tripping over at least twice as he does.

  Skizzleman again trips over his own feet on the concrete pathway, and since he’s at the front of the group, the other three promptly fall over him and end up in a heap on the ground, panting hard from fear and exertion. 

  “Oh my God,” gasps out Impulse. “Is everyone okay?”

  Zedaph sticks his thumb up. “Very much below average, thanks.” 

  “My heart is about to die but yeah, I’m fine,” Skizzleman breathes. “I’m gonna have nightmares about this for months.”

  “Months?!” Tango is lying sprawled on his back, his heart still pounding in his chest. “Dude, I’m never gonna sleep well again.”

  Impulse pushes himself into a sitting position and watches the ghost float around angrily in the front doorway. “Looks like he can’t leave the house. PLEASE tell me we got three pieces of evidence.”

  At the same time, all three of the others speak:

  “Temperature,” says Zedaph.

  “Photo,” says Skizzleman. 

  “EMF reading,” says Tango. 

  “Right, then.” Impulse gets to his feet and opens up the back of the van. “Let’s get going. We can process the evidence in the van.”

  Skizzleman is the next to stand up and come to the back of the van. Rubbing his chest, he raises an eyebrow at Impulse. “Dude, we are DEFINITELY stopping at Taco Bell on the way home. We DESERVE Taco Bell.”

  Impulse chuckles. “Oh, you’ll hear no argument from me there, dude.” 

  As Zedaph hops into the back of the van, he grins back at his friends. “Now that was what I call a Shia Surprise.” 

  Impulse frowns and starts to open his mouth but Skizzleman shakes his head. “Don’t even ask, bro.” 

  Finally, Tango hands the EMF reader to Impulse and wordlessly starts to head to the front of the van but Impulse stops him. “Tango, are you okay? I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more in there.”

  Tango slowly shakes his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m just a little shaken up, that’s all.” He gives a pale grin. “Just promise me that next time we get the urge to do something stupid with the paranormal that we’ll use a oujia board like normal people.”

  Impulse laughs. After that experience, he’s just happy his friends are all okay.

  “Deal.”

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.32

Word Count: 1,839

Characters: Derek Hale, Chris Argent, Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale, OC Character, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

A/N: ------

Masterlist          Series Masterlist

You laid on your bed, gripping your pillow tightly as you wrapped yourself around it, holding it tightly. It had been 3 days.

“(Y/N),” Isaac sat next to you, laying down.

You didn't reply, laying there as your tears fell down your face.

“Come here,” he wrapped his arms around you as he rubbed your back.

You stayed laying, not moving like you were numb, paralyzed.

“Cora’s on her way here,” he said softly.

“What?” you jumped up as you wiped your face.

“Good to know you can hear me. Cora’s on her way,” he shrugged.

“You told her?” you said softly.

“Yeah, of course, I did. She’s your best friend,” Isaac replied.

“Isaac, Derek’s her brother. Why did you tell her?” you sniffled, burying your head in your arms.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Cora and Derek are all each other have left. Just because something happened doesn't mean that their relationship should be ruined,” you started as you closed your eyes, laying on your bed once again.

“You’re joking, right? He cheated on you, (Y/N). Why are you still trying to defend him?” Isaac said, standing in front of you.

You just shrugged, laying down in your bed.

Because it was my fault

You knew you kept pushing him, you kept starting fights for no reason, you couldn't even tell him you loved him. It was only a matter of time before something happened.

“Just don’t tell anyone else, please,” your voice was low as tears slipped down your face.

Your heart was in pain like it had been for the last few days. Everything was just one bad thing on top of another. You laid there as you thought back to Deucalion’s words. What did he mean by not yet?

“Okay, I won’t. I promise,” he said softly.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Cora’s voice as she entered your apartment, laying down next to you. You could hear her and Isaac whispering to each other while you turned your back to them.

“My brother's an idiot,” she said, sitting next to you while she wrapped her arms around you.

“I know,” you whispered, holding onto her tightly.

---

You could hear your phone ringing multiple times, as you ignored it, laying in bed. It looked like Isaac went out somewhere, while you stayed alone. You needed a break from him anyway, you loved him but he refused to leave your side for days. 

It must be Stiles

You turned your phone off, closing your eyes as you sniffled.

A few minutes later, you jumped up, hearing knocking at your door.

You wanted to ignore it, but you chose against it as you sat up, walking to the door.

“Argent?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, I’ve been calling you nonstop…. are you okay?” he asked, looking at you worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What is it?” you wiped your face as you sniffled.

“If you’re sick, I’ll leave,” he said, still looking at you cautiously.

“I’m fine, witches don't get sick. What happened?” you asked.

“I’ve been tracking the patterns of where bodies were taken from, and where they were dumped,” he explained.

“What did you find?” you asked.

“It’s easier to just show you,” he said.

You nodded your head as you grabbed you walked into your apartment, grabbing your phone, wallet, and jacket as you walked out with Chris.

---

“Okay, so,” he looked around nervously as the two of you walked into his office.

You gave him a look.

As you opened your mouth to speak, he pushed you into his office quickly, closing the door while you glared, hearing voices from outside. You heard a door close before Chris walked into his office, turning the lights on.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Allison?” you asked.

“Yeah, I don't want to tell her. I’m trying to keep her out of all this,” he said.

“I understand,” you nodded your head.

“Which also means, you can not tell this to anyone. Not even Derek,” he warned.

You felt a pang in your chest as you shook your head.

“I won’t. Just tell me what you found,” you said.

He nodded, grabbing a UV flashlight from his drawer, turning it on.

“You’re really hiding this, aren’t you?” you replied.

“I told you I don't want Allison to know about this,” he said.

He flashed the light over the map on his desk, which had circles and x’s on it.

“Okay, the circle represents where someone has been abducted from. The X’s represent where the bodies were found,” he explained. 

You leaned against the table, looking at the map while he explained.

“How much do you know about telluric currents?” he asked.

“Like the energy that runs through the Earth, right?” you asked.

“Yeah, and you working believe how much energy is in this town itself. So, I tracked the patterns, and look,” he pointed, showing you.

“This is where a body was taken. This is where it was dumped. That’s right on the current,” he said.

“That’s… so what about the people who are being sacrificed? How are they being picked?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I… I’m still trying to figure it out. All I know is that they sacrifice in groups of three. Started with virgins and moving forward,” he said.

Before you could reply, you heard the door open, as you sat up, crossing your arms while Allison walked in.

Chris put a book on the map, covering it.

“Hey, Dad…. oh (Y/N), how are you?” I-I didn’t know you were here,” she said.

“Hey,” you waved, giving her an awkward smile.

“Is something wrong?” Chris asked Allison.

“I was just gonna go pick up some food,” she said.

“Oh, okay. See you in a bit,” he smiled.

“Yeah… bye,” she walked out, looking at the two of you.

“Well, anyways, add the supernatural to that list,” you sighed.

“How do you know?” he asked you.

“They almost got to us, in that motel in California,” you explained.

“What? I didn't know about that? What happened? Are you okay?” he immediately bombarded you with questions.

Your mind drifted off to the events from the past couple of days while you tried to stay calm.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you inhaled deeply.

“You don’t have to lie,” he replied, putting his hand on your shoulder.

Your eyes watered as you smiled at him.

“I'm not… I’m okay, Chris,” you said.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, while you closed your eyes, feeling a tear fall.

“Derek and I broke up,” you whispered.

“What happened?” he asked softly, looking at you while he wiped your tears.

You took a deep breath, deciding whether or not to tell him the truth. You didn't even know if you could bring yourself to say it.

“H-He…” your voice broke as you began speaking.

You buried yourself in his arms, closing your eyes while he stroked your head softly.

---

Maybe he just needs to explain himself

You ran your fingers through your hair as you trudged back to your apartment. Chris wanted to drive you but you needed time to just clear your head.

Just go talk to him

You tried fighting yourself. You should stay away from him. 

But you needed to know why and what happened. Before you could make up your mind, you found yourself standing in front of his building.

You could feel chills on your neck, immediately feeling something behind you.

“Revelare,” you turned around, your eyes purple as you looked cautiously.

Nothing was there. Probably some leaves. You rubbed your head, taking a deep breath. You should go, but you wanted to stay. You wanted to see him. You wanted to talk to him.

You wiped your face, taking a deep breath as you walked in.

---

You could feel your heart racing as you opened the door, taking a step in.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” Derek asked, crossing his arms as he walked to you.

“I… I need to know why,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Just…why, Derek?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed, looking down at you.

“We were never gonna last, (Y/N),” he said.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“Think about it. We got together right after Kate tortured us. We were scared, we were sad and lonely,” your eyes watered as he spoke.

“We loved each other,” your voice squeaked.

“No, we didn’t. We were just alone, (Y/N),” you could feel your body burning, just barely holding yourself together.

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, looking down.

“I’m not wrong. You know that too. It’s been fun, we’re too off and on. We fight so much. That’s not healthy,” he said.

“W-We…” you tried to defend your relationship but found yourself at a loss for words.

Should've never come here

You felt a tear fall to the ground.

“I-I’ll see you around, I guess,” you sniffled as you turned your back on him, holding in your sobs while you ran away, running to your apartment.

---

You threw your wallet and phone to the side, slamming your door shut.

You gasped for breath as you cried. Your body was aching, along with your head.

You heard a knock on your door, as it opened. You forgot to lock the door.

Your eyes were bloodshot as you turned around, inhaling shakily.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you screamed, seeing your dad standing behind you.

“(Y/N), I…” he took a step in, closing the door behind him as he locked it.

“I had to apologize,” he said.

“No! You don't get another fucking chance! After months! Stay away from me!” you screamed, feeling your head aching as you stumbled backward.

“I don’t know what was wrong with me. You didn't deserve that,” he said.

“I’ve been in town for some time, and I just needed to see you. It was never the right time, I tried to say something before, but,” he stopped, rubbing his head.

“So you’ve been following me? I made a dumb mistake of trusting you the first time, and what did you do? You tried to kill me, again!” you yelled.

“(Y/N), just calm down, please. I’m sorry,” he said.

You could feel your head pounding, as you turned your back to him, falling to your knees while you held your head tightly. It felt like it was gonna explode.

You gasped for air, as your eyes glowed purple.

“(Y/N),” you heard your dad’s voice.

“Stay away from me! Leave me alone!” you screamed, gripping your head tightly as you screamed out in pain.

“(Y/N),” he said, frowning as he ran to you.

“I said go away!” you screamed as your eyes glowed purple, hearing something shatter from behind you.

You exhaled slowly, feeling your headache going away, hearing silence.

You stood up shakily, turning around.

“Dad?”

[riversofmars]

Oh I'd love to see your take on 13 drunk out of her mind! I think she'd be all over River just cuddling her to her doom

Finally getting round to this, sorry lovely Anon, I love this request so I wanted to do it justice! I did turn a bit darker than what you probably imagined as I also took the other anon into account that asked about the Doctor’s dark tendencies... So you’re getting really Drunk! and slightly SelfDestructive!Doctor all in one. Hope you like it!

Ship: River/13

Rating: M (nothing all that bad but it does insinuate a lot...)

Word Count: 1500

The Doctor downed her drink in one go and waved at the bartender for another. Maldovan brandy was sharp and burned but it certainly did the trick. The Doctor didn’t like alcohol in any of its forms, so she figured she might as well go for the strong stuff to get the desired effect. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had had a drink, but she knew if she had enough of it, she might be able to drown her sorrow for the time being. Just not feel and think for a while… she was willing to try anything at this point. 

Since she had escaped from the Jadoon prison, she had wandered time and space aimlessly, trying to make sense of what had happened on Gallifrey. All the death and destruction that she was inevitably responsible for, doubting herself, her own existence and identity. She wasn’t exactly coping very well. She needed a break. Just one night of not thinking, not feeling, before she could face her troubles again in the morning. She downed another drink, she wasn’t sure how many she had had by this point but she was certainly feeling the effect. She struggled for coherent thought, stumbling a little as she requested one more drink for good measure. 

She looked around as she waited. Music was pulsing loudly from the speakers, the club was dark, only illuminated by bursts of multicoloured lighting and UV that bounced off the colourful outfits of the university students all around. The Doctor noticed in amusement how the rainbow on her t-shirt and her yellow braces lit up. She’d left her coat in the TARDIS, it was far too hot and sweaty in here. The Doctor scanned the crowd again.

“You looking for someone?“ A voice called over the music making the Doctor jump. She looked around and found herself face to face with the person she had been looking for. At last. 

“You could say that.“ The Doctor grinned, unable to keep the excitement from her features. 

“Well that’s disappointing.“ River Song looked her up and down appreciatively, not even remotely hiding her interest. She waved at the bartender who just set the Doctor’s drink down. 

“No, I mean, I’m… I’m not waiting for someone, I’m…“ The Doctor stuttered. It was her she had been looking for of course, she didn’t want her thinking she was waiting for someone else. They had barely exchanged two lines and she’d already messed up. River raised an eyebrow at her nervous reaction and turned to face her properly now.

“So who or what are you looking for?“ She smirked and took a sip of her drink. She reached out and ran her fingers along one of her yellow braces. The Doctor’s mouth felt dry all of a sudden and she took a gulp of her drink as she eyed the tight fitting dress her future wife was wearing. 

“I, uhh…“ Her mind went utterly blank. 

“Well?“ River grinned, clearly loving every moment of this. She took another sip of her drink watching the beautiful stranger growing more and more flustered under her gaze. There was something awfully familiar about her that she couldn’t quite place. It intrigued her beyond the physical attraction she had instantly felt towards her. She was adorable really, with her blonde cropped hair, innocent features and ridiculous choice of clothes. River felt an incredibly strong urge to rip those silly three-quarter-lengths off her but she restrained herself waiting for an answer. “Have you lost your voice, sweetie?“ 

“You.“ The Doctor burst out, throwing caution to the wind in her intoxicated state. “I’ve been looking for you.“ 

“Have we met?“ River raised her eyebrows at her, surprised by the straight forward answer.

“Oh yeah.“ The Doctor answered feeling a surge of confidence now. She had nothing to hold back for. Her inhibitions had fallen away, she knew what she was here for and what she wanted, so why not actually just be straight forward about it for once. River was hitting on her without even knowing who she was, she wouldn’t exactly need convincing. 

“I think I would remember someone as pretty as you.“ River replied flintily raising her hand to her chin pushing it up a little. 

“Just bare with me on this.“ The Doctor breathed. “I’m a time traveller from your future, River.“ She answered barely loud enough for her to hear. She used her name deliberately to make the point. River’s eyes widened it surprise for a moment but the Doctor carried on: “And you know that’s possible so don’t go asking too many questions when you know you shouldn’t.“

“You’re not…“ River looked at her for a moment trying to wrap her head around the information. 

“Spoilers, you know I can’t say. Now, shut up and kiss me.“ The Doctor reached for her future wife’s hips and pulled her close. River grinned but didn’t oblige, instead she pushed her hand into her blonde hair and pulled her head back when she tried to kiss her. The Doctor groaned in annoyance and a bit of pain but it wasn’t unwelcome. There was that dangerous twinkle in River’s eyes, full of intrigue and excitement. She hadn’t been “River“ for long, she had such a long journey ahead of her. It was all still there, Mel’s temper, the conditioning, the danger. It was the main reason why she had come to this time in her wife’s life. River had never exactly been tame but she had gotten better at controlling herself, keeping her childhood instincts in check. It was all a matter of practice and here, she didn’t have much of it yet. It excited the Doctor more than she cared to admit. 

“So, you’re someone from my future and you’ve come here to do what exactly?“ River smirked leaning close. 

“I don’t think you need me to spell it out for you.“ The Doctor retorted, her head spinning from the alcohol and her proximity. 

“But I would like you to.“ River hummed against the shell of her ear, barely audible over the music. She brought her free hand up between them and traced her fingertips along her collar bone playfully. The Doctor groaned, digging her finger’s into River’s hips, she felt the arousal pooling between her legs already. In response River tightened her grip on her hair. “Well?“

“I need you to help me forget for one night, you know how to do that, right?“ The Doctor replied pulling her closer still. 

“What is it you want to forget about?“ River asked intrigued. She knew she probably shouldn’t ask for the benefit of the timeline but she was curious. It wasn’t every day she got propositioned like this. The Doctor gave a bitter laugh. What didn’t she want to forget about?

“Stop asking questions you know I can’t answer.“ She breathed, her neck was beginning to ache.

“Fine, okay.“ River smirked and let go of her hair, stepping away from her altogether. The Doctor whimpered with disappointment at the sudden loss of contact. 

“What are you…“

“I would have thought you’d want to go somewhere more private if that’s what you’re after?“ River raised her eyebrows at her slowly making her way away from the bar and the Doctor’s hearts picked up speed. She stumbled after her. “Steady there, darling.“ River hummed in amusement noticing the extend of her intoxication. She looped her arm around her and held her close. “Are you sure about this?“ She asked, doubting for a moment, needing to hear her confirmation. She wanted nothing more than to act on the desire that had come over her, but she had to be sure. The Doctor looked up at her, almost disappointed at the change of tone, at the concern that shone through her eyes for a moment.

“I didn’t think you’d need much convincing at this point in time…“ The Doctor chuckled. She had banked on her rough edge and underdeveloped moral compass at this point. “Don’t make me beg.“ She looked up at her pleadingly and it was enough to make her future wife snap.

“Oh, I’m gonna make you beg, alright.“ River smirked, the moment of hesitation had passed. She curled her fingers around her throat possessively and crashed her lips onto hers. The Doctor groaned, parting her lips immediately, returning the feverish kiss, whimpering when River bit and pulled on her bottom lip. The Doctor grabbed on to her, her legs threatened to give out. “So what do I call you?“ She tilted her head, searching her pleading eyes for an answer. Deep down she already knew but neither of them would say it.

“You can call me whatever you like, I’m all yours.“ The Doctor replied breathlessly and there was a dangerous flicker in River’s eyes.

“You will be when I’m done with you.“ Her voice was a low growl and she dug her fingernails into her neck. 

“Yes please.“ The Doctor almost sobbed, everything else faded away around them. She was taking over all her senses. The low hum of her voice, the intense gaze, her intoxicating small, the taste of her lips and the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. There was no room for anything else. No room for the nagging thoughts, her insecurities, her pain. For tonight, she wanted nothing more than for River’s fire to consume her. 

[peak-dumbass]

Thoughts on Sons of Garmadon cuz redesigns :]

Also instead of watching all of the season and then adding my thoughts later I instead took notes while watch the season so that’s why this post is incredibly long, sorry about that :/

Anyway enjoy :>

Sorry for the accidental posting and I don’t want to rewrite everything so here’s from the original post

Lloyd reading the title of the episode also caught me off guard the first time I watched this

Basically Lloyd caught me off guard entirely the first time I watched this

Also his eyebrows are now THICC

“Still thirsty?”

...

I can see why people like Nya a lot (._.’)

Nya’s badass and f—king love her

Also the water bubbles she makes look really nice

Jay mimicking Cole is adorable

The first time we see them after a year and the first thing we see them do is argue and disturb a group of people that took a vow of silence 

I love them

“Did I call you at a bad time?” They’re in the middle of a fight with the mechanic, what do think?

Also Pixal calling Lloyd “Master Lloyd” :’/

“Whoever said fight fire with fire clearly didn’t know what they were talking about.” “Hey, you’re stealing my lines!” I love you Kai

“Who likes ice cream? I do! How was that line Kai?” I love you Zane

Them teasing Lloyd for his deeper voice and them just genuinely having family fun bonding time just fills me with such happiness that I can’t describe with words :’’’’’’’’>

Misako abandons Lloyd yet again, and she was just starting to act like a good mother in Hands of Time >:/

Jay is not understanding a single thing being said to him, but at least he’s trying 👌

Their excuse for not mentioning the royal family throughout the series is “they like their privacy”? Really? Like really? Are they expecting us to believe this bullish-t? 

Lloyd seeing Harumi for the first time: Can You Feel The Love Tonight🎶

Now Cole’s the only one who hasn’t had a crush in the series he is so gay and the writers can’t convince me otherwise

Can I just say the lighting for the inside of the place is beautiful? Cuz it is.

Also I just realized Cole’s the only ninja that isn’t wearing sleeves on his ninja suit, that’s cool👌

Since Harumi’s natural hair color is white, does that mean she’s albino?

“The maskes must never be reunited” Says the person who reunited the mask >:/ I know she’s acting good here but still

“No thank you, I actually gave up sweets. My body is a temple.” The moment I heard that for the first time I was like “WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO MY BOI?! WHO HAS HURT HIM?!”

Lloyd, stop stalking the princess, that’s illegal >:|

“Don’t worry, we’re ninja, we’re experts at this kind of thing” They proceed to loose the mask, let their main villain onto their ship, and Lloyd gets a crush on her :/

Grade A ninja-ing right there 👌👌👌

I’m on episode 2 and seeing Harumi acting nice and sweet and connecting with Lloyd and knowing that she’s faking all of it, I just feel so so so so bad for Lloyd :’<

Cole, don’t try to give Lloyd advice about girls when you aren’t even attracted to them

Ok so I procrastinated a bunch on doing this for some reason so Yee, let’s continue

I’ve only seen Mystake for 1 scene and if anything ever happens to her I’ll kill everyone in this room and myself

Oof I’m now sad and realize why everyone likes her

Ok so we all agree the tea Mystake gave Jay and Lloyd to see the drawings move is weed right? Or had weed in it?

Why is Cole hiding in a garbage bin when Zane is using a perfectly good newspaper? Also oh boy can’t wait to see Rocky DangerBuff and Snake Jaguar in action :3

The way Snake walked into the bar Jesus

and I’m trying to watch this without skipping it cuz to me the whole thing is very awkward and I can’t stand awkward stuff like this but I also heard there was glacier so I’m gonna try to watch this without yeeting my phone and burying my face in my pillow

Chloe: Snake is gorgeous and we stan

Me: I know he’s beautiful look at him, he’s amazing

He’s bad boi and baby boi at the same time and I love him

Just added Cole into a scene with the ninja when he’s actually still kidnapped by UV so noice job Ninjago HQ 👏👏👏

Zane looks so weird in the flash of Wu finding him dear god

Stop bothering him Cole, let Zane Rp as Snake for a little bit longer

DAD COLE DAD COLE DAD COLE DAD COLE DAD COLE DAD COLE

Cad is what Cole would have named the baby if it didn’t turn out to be Wu cuz Cole + Dad

Ali: "Why cad?" "Its cooler than Chad cause you take out the h for hoe"

Ali/clumsy you’re a genius

”you didn’t think it would that easy, did you?”

Guys is weird to think that UV is 100 times hotter after saying that line?

Mommy UV vs Dad Cole, Mommy UV is fighting Dad Cole for the baby

Oof I remember what’s gonna happen to Zane y’all and I’m not happy plz Mr.E stahp plz

Mr.E to the SOG after he kicks Zane’s ass: Guess who just got murdered!

“Not all men-“

Me: You’re right, Zane Ninjago would never do this

Mr.E: I’m on my way, I’m on my way, I’m on my way to kick Zane’s ass :D!

Cole is Pearl from SU confirmed, he was staring at baby Wu sleeping

Harumi: Maybe we can use this blanket at a Parachute?

Lloyd: What do this is a cartoon?!

Lloyd proceeds to do the exact thing he said wouldn’t work

Also Harumi is the best actor I’ve ever seen like seriously 10/10 👌 actor, playing with Lloyd’s heart strings like she’s been doing it for years

“How to be a heartbreaker” is Harumi’s jam and theme song

SO I WAS ADDING MY THOUGHTS ON HERE AND TUMBLR JUST DECIDED TO BE A LITTLE B-TCH AND CLOSE ON ME BEFORE I SAVED MY THOUGHTS AND NOW MY THOUGHTS ON HALF EPISODE 5 AND 6 ARE GONE OOF SO I’M JUST GONNA SAY THAT PIXAL IS HAVING SELF ESTEEM ISSUES OR SOMETHING SIMILAR AND SHE’S AMAZING AND IT’S MAKING ME SAD THAT ALL SHE SEES HERSELF AS ASSISTANCE AND NOTHING MORE

Also Lloyd falls onto a few branches and gets a hurt arm that requires a blanket while Nya was at the front of the ship with 0 protecction and was basically yeeted to the main deck while it crashed into the jungle and she doesn’t even get a break?!

I know Nya is stronger than Lloyd but GOSH DIDDLY DARN I didn’t know she was that STRONK!

Baby Wu: “Ninja never quit hehehehehe”

The ninja:

Lloyd: Confused Green Bean Noises

Harumi: kisses him on the cheek

Lloyd: •////• completely forgets what he was confused about

Harumi saved by lovestruck Lloyd and boners

Cole to Baby Wu: You took care of us, it’s only fair that we take care of you.

Me:

GOD I LOVE COLE HE’S AMAZING

Harumi and Lloyd during that one waterfall scene in Episode 6:

Also Harumi’s backstory for why she likes Garmadon and hates the ninja including Lloyd, it completely makes sense cuz she was a child that over heard that the ninja didn’t do sh-t and Garmadon saved the city so it makes sense why she hates the ninja and believes Garmadon should be Ninjago’s leader, and since it happened when she was young she didn’t think things through, she didn’t think about it from the ninja perspective and especially didn’t think about it from Lloyd’s perspective cuz she was a child, kids don’t tend to think about the other person’s perspective on things, so I think it makes sense and it’s really good 👌 also this is Ninjago’s first main female villain, all the other ones were either second in command or were in a crew that worked for a bigger villain so yeah that’s cool

“Don’t you guys have any idea what she’s doing? She’s resurrecting Garmadon! Lord Garmadon!” Yeah no sh-t Kai, the name of their gang is “Sons of Garmadon”, of course they know and of course they’re ok with it why do think they’re helping her?

“Then it’s a good thing the Quiet One isn’t a bad guy but a bad girl” It doesn’t matter that Pythor, Chen, Morro, and Garmadon had dicc, what matters is that the greater evil didn’t listen to them dipsh-t.

Harumi screams a lot, like Princess Peach/Damsel-in-distress amount of high pitch screaming and I’m surprised Lloyd or the other ninja haven’t told her to shut up at one point.

a slightly dark room suddenly turns a little bit darker

Harumi:

Lloyd: Jesus even when I was a kid I had tougher skin then you, I know this is a little hypocritical for my to say, but grow the f—k up god

Ok woah woah woah, how did Lloyd go from “I didn’t tell you about the fact that I’m part Oni, Mystake only told me and Jay” to “You’re the Quiet One” like he isn’t wrong but how did he put it together in such little amount of time?

Ok this is how the Lloyd vs Harumi fight should have gone down:

Lloyd: Give me a good reason not do destroy it right now.

Harumi: I’ll give you 2. You want to see your father again and you love me.

Lloyd: HAH! While you busy being a heterosexual b-tch I studied the blade!

Lloyd kicks Harumi’s ass and the day is saved

Am I wrong? Lloyd only met Harumi a couple of days ago, it’s like Anna from Frozen but LEGOs

“Love is an open door” is Llorumi shippers theme song

“I WANT YOU TO FEEL THE EMPTINESS THAT I FEEL”

B-TCH HAVE YOU NOT SEEN HIS F—KING CHILDHOOD HE HAS MORE TRAUMA THEN YOU WILL EVER GET YOUR F—KING LIFE TIME!!!

I KNOW SHE IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER AND THAT SHE HASN’T SEEN HIS LIFE LIKE WE HAVE BUT DAMN IF IT ISN’T ACTIVATING MY PROTECC-LLOYD-AT-ALL-COSTS-AND-THAT-THIS-IS-TOTAL-BULLSH-T INSTINCTS

“Or we’ll have to get all ninja on you!” “What does that even mean?” “I don’t know I was improvising” Tbh that’s a mood Kai, at least to me

Lloyd: Guys, Rumi is the Quiet One!

The ninja who are currently surrounded by the SOG including Harumi: Oh really, ya don’t say?

Lloyd just got yeeted out of a waterfall so it sorta makes sense why he didn’t notice

Lloyd said I won’t let you get away with this and Harumi said YEET

They have Lloyd they have the masks and we have trouble

Baby Wu: Puppy!

that ain’t a puppy Sensei it’s a giant underwater scorpion monster

I forgot they tamed the giant underwater scorpion monster and named it Crabby, and Jay hugged one of Crabby’s claws, Jay’s favorite pet the ninja have ever had is Crabby confirmed

“So this is your true face without the mask, no wonder you covered it” Damn Lloyd is salty, LET LLOYD SAY F—K 2020

Chloe: Lloyd said "bitch u ugly" poetically

Me: Yeah, he got the saltiness from Kai and the poetic speech from Zane

“There was never anything between us”

One episode earlier

“You want your father back, and you love me”

One episode earlier

Harumi kisses Lloyd on cheek and proteccs him from the corrupted Samurai X suit

Me:

Harumi gets close to Lloyd

Me: KICK HER IN THE NONEXISTENT BALLS

Yay the most useful and totally not child abandoning character, Misako, is here and giving Lloyd information that he already knew and is being incredibly useful buy not only abandoning Lloyd for a second time in his life but also finding Baby Wu for the SOG Hooray

“Stop Rumi, this isn’t you!” B-tch you’ve only known her for a couple of days, and she has played with your heart, in dangered your friends, and tried to kill you and your friends on multiple occasions, and she nearly succeeded on killing Zane (though tbh Zane gets nearly killed every season so that isn’t a surprise)

“You were right, this isn’t me” YOU SERIOUSLY BELIEVED HE’LL FALL FOR THAT BULLSH-T AGAIN? AFTER YOU TRIED TO DROWN HIM AND HIS MOM WHILE SUMMONING HIS EVIL DAD FROM THE DEAD? HAH, B-TCH YOU THOUGHT!

“Stop. Save it for someone who cares” Yesssssss I love youuuuuuu by baby boiiiiii

Sees the arm coming out of the anvil-thing

Me: Terminator Garmadon? Also this is what happens when we complain too much, we also gotta be more specific people! We can’t ask for just Garmadon, we need to ask for Good/Sensei Garmadon or else we’ll get bullsh-t like this!

THE SCENE OF THE NINJA SINGING WEEKEND WHIP JUST PLAYED AND THE HAPPY WHOLESOME VIBES AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Also there’s no way harumi gets the resurrection spell right on the first try, like no way, impossible, like she even gets interrupted by Lloyd and the ninja at the end and then Garmadon appears after that? Like I’m not a witch/wizard myself but I’m pretty sure that’s not how spells work? You don’t just start a spell, stop before the spell is finished, and the spell still works :/

Also how the hecc did Garmadon know where to find Harumi? It was never explained, he just like punched his way into the police station and was like “Yo b-tch what’s up?”

“I can turn him once, I can turn him again” ends up getting his ass handed to him and nearly dieing for the millionth time in his life

“That sounds like a really bad idea” “And Kai knows bad ideas, he’s full of them” Oof Kai just got roasted

“Lloyd, what are you doing?” “I’m sorry, Nya. I have to confront him” OOF HE REALLY DID JUST PULL A KAI DIDN’T HE

I’m not gonna quote everything Lloyd says here cuz there’s too much but DAMN HE’S REALLY PISSED OFF AND IS REALLY DOING A KAI JESUS

I know we all wanted Sensei Garmadon back but I’m ngl this Garmadon looks really cool and gives really good evil speeches to unmotivate his opponent

OOF Y’ALL REALLY HAD TO ADD LLOYD HOLDING OUT THE PHOTO OF HIM AND GARMADON WITH LLOYD STRUGGLING SAYING “FATHER” AND THE PHOTO GOING INTO THE WIND DIDN’T Y’ALL MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THAT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND I STILL HAVE TO MAKE IT THROUGH EPISODE 10 WHERE I KNOW LLOYD’S HEART IS GONNA BE RIPED OUT OF HIS CHEST AND STOMPED ON WITH A SPIKED SHOE

F—K HARUMI F—K NINJAGO HQ F—K EMPEROR GARMADON F—K THE SOG JUST LEAVE MY POOR BABY ALONE

Y’all I don’t think I can make it through the next episode f—k man

Holy f—k I forgot Emperor Garmadon reads the title card in episode 10 oof

“Not so fast!” “‘No so fast”?! You used that ages ago!” True, it sucked then and it sucks now

“My brother is coming” “How do you know?” “I know” Dang even baby Wu doesn’t tell people sh-t

“You sure you’re up for this?” “I was married to him once, I’m up for anything” Ok so you’re saying that as if you were the one that was treated badly in that relationship and not the other way around like it should be but whatever floats your boat pal

“Careful!” “Are you actually doubting my ability to closely approximate the true value of our surroundings? I’m a nindroid.” Damn Zane is pissed

COLE LITERALLY JUMPED OFF THE BOUNTY TO CATCH BABY WU NOT KNOWING JAY WAS GONNA CATCH HIM AKA HE WOULD HAVE DIED FOR BABY WU I’M SCREAMING GOD I LOVE COLE

Ok so Lloyd you are excellent at fabulous/eat-a-dicc-b-tch exits like wow 👏👏👏👏👏

Also the scene with the 4 OG ninja and Baby Wu traveling to the first realm looks really really nice ngl

All in all I really really like this season, it’s great 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Transformers RID2015 final review!!;

Oh boy. This was a long time coming. Let's go over what I gotta say about this show!

*pls note all these are my opinions, and may contain swearing/spoilers.

Pros!!;

Some bad guy designs. Take for example bots like Thunderhoof or Stockade, who genuinely look SO good? (I particularly like the rusty nail cigar detail on Stockade, THAT was some good shit).

The voice acting, on the whole, was VERY good. Yes there were a few bots who shook me (like Ped, that shit made me spit out tea), but honestly? I was impressed for the most part. 

Sideswipe.

Minicons. No seriously, 97% of minicons in this show were ADORABLE! My only complaint is that they didn’t get more screen time, if anything.

 The whole ‘camouflage’ thing they did? SO good, SO creative. They did other such creative stuff like this, (recalibrating optics, Springload’s acid skin, alloy hives, Uv lights, etc. cool shit).

How they made so many decepticons look like animals. Call me a furry, but I honestly like transformers designed to be animals. Thunderhoof, Steeljaw, Saberhorn, Stockade, and Zizza are particularly ones I enjoy.

 Denny. I demand he be in the next dream daddy update immediately.

Bumblebee’s night off. Literally all of it.

The fact that NO bot is spared from stupidity/awkward moments. Decepticons, autobots, don’t matter, everyone’s fucking gay and stupid. Fucking great.

Bumblebee’s failed rallying cries. So cringy, and I feel like they REALLY signified his growth as a leader.

Battlemasks. Seriously, I LOVE how there’s more of them in this series. I just wished they had more, especially for the baddies. Bad guys deserve to look cool dammit. 

Sideswipe’s OBVIOUS crush on Jazz. Fuck outta here with that Sideblade shit.

'Guilty as charged'.Literally everything about it. The twists, the background, the fact that they MADE AN AUTOBOT A BAD GUY. So fucking good of an episode.

Cons!!;

The constant references to tfp. The nods to tfp are few and far in between, but they do exist. One would think this is a plus, and the idea itself is, but RID focuses on all the wrong things. Like in the episode, ‘History lessons’, they bring up the base, but never really delve into the history of it, choosing to focus on the bad guys.

The character design. This isn't for ALL of them, but this show has an awful habit of making some characters too big. Take for example, Optimus. His thickness works against him, as it removes the lack of details that made him so GORGEOUS in tfp.

The re colors/clones. I get it, reusing some assets saves money. But the colors tend to be just awful, and most designs are VERY hit and miss. Aka Airachnid.

Bringing up tfp again. Now I'm not going to be like ‘oh tfp was first= better’, because the first isn't always better. What I hate is the fact that RID sort of ignores tfp for the most part, despite being only FIVE years apart. I feel like if they made this a separate continuity or MUCH later time wise, this wouldnt annoy me so much.

Episodes are honestly 90% filler. Like armada, it's very gimmicky, using a LOT of episodes to sell toys. The plot of the show is really just ‘catch decepticons’, vs tfp, where the challenge changed in pretty much every episode.

Speaking of decepticons, I hated how they made so many. Don't get me wrong, I love variety, but I feel like the designs of these random baddies took up WAY too much time, especially to just have them thrown out after one appearance.

Thunderhoof. I know, queen of hoof thirst, saying this. Let me explain. I LOVE him, but like many decepticons in this series, he was more or less ignored. Don’t get me wrong, he was given more time compared to most, and that I appreciate, but they gave him SUCH a background of a mafia boss, only to just demote him for the sake of Steeljaw. I was just honestly offended that they didn't do more with him when they could've (though DAMN he was hot in Decepticon Island Part 2, and his introduction episode).

Characters do not progress very much. Strongarm and Sideswipe somewhat did, Bumblebee as well, but I wasn't truly believing a character grew up for the most part.

 Decepticon hunters. I just don’t understand them. At the beginning, they were neat tools, but combining them just suddenly made everyone way too OP. I don’t understand it, and I don’t really like it.

This brings me to the topic of weapons. In G1 they did the handheld weapons, and that worked, given it was G1, but this is canonically AFTER tfp, so removing those weapons doesn't make sense, and it’s honestly kinda fucking lame. This is a HUGE gripe for me tbh. It wasn’t even that they couldn't, bots like Fracture had built in blades and the like, so ultimately, what's the excuse?

 Octopunch and Clampdown. Kill them with fire. 

‘Even robots have nightmares’. Not the entire episode, just the fact that Chop shop’s moment of kindness in that episode wasn't really explored, and the missed opportunity there ACTUALLY upset me. Even bad guys deserve redemption.

Speaking of, I hate the fact that only Grimlock got redemption. Yes tfp also didn't have much luck in converting the baddies, but there were at least ATTEMPTS, and I feel like having those attempts turned the black white and sides onto a more gray area, and sort of showed the audience that no one was inherently BAD. If they had that in this series, I’d be MUCH more into this.

Minasaur. Was just such a waste of time. Decent design, but the character was shit. He apparently destroyed an actual solar system or some shit, and yet, he can't properly control his combined form for two seconds.

Stunticons. They were decent looking in design, I'll give them that, but they were wasted, and rushed. RID has enough bad guys that desperately needed attention, adding these new ones was a choice that really made this show a struggle to watch.

'Prisoners Principles'. The way they covered the legal rules of Prisoners wasn't too bad. What WAS bad was the normalized brutality of Clampdown. Now I hate the fuck, but he's a willing prisoner. Bots like Strongarm and Sideswipe willingly putting him in danger just REALLY seemed like boot kissing. Don't appreciate it.

The episode with Dropforge kinda made me realize something. That the whole situation with the government could've been covered a LOT sooner. If they were going to touch on it, at ALL, they should've done it properly. You could've literally scrapped the stunticons and replaced it with issues of Cybertron's justice system. It would have saved them money on voice actors, and the thought of collaboration between Cybertron and earth would've been GOOD shit. It would've been a good opportunity to bring in Dropforge, who was genuinely a cool character.

Ratchet meeting Optimus. Was so disappointing, so lackluster, and really, really undermined their relationship in tfp.

There was SO many musical talents for some fucking reason. Sideswipe, Jazz, Steeljaw, Thunderhoof- all VA's were singers, and they did NOTHING with that.

The way the council was handled. I couldn't remember a time where I've ever given less of a shit about their characters. You fucked up CYCLONUS. How the fuck you gonna ruin CYCLONUS.

There's a specific post talking about this shows villian problem (written by my buddy bae, give em a follow), and there's lots of points i agree with; https://baebeyza.tumblr.com/post/190875674229/robots-in-disguise-2015-and-the-villain-problem.

They also made this post that I think has some solid points; https://baebeyza.tumblr.com/post/621992774922797056/rid15-and-what-it-could-have-been-waited-foruys of the episode. 

So all in, this show is....okay. I've seen it twice now, and both times, they have something in common; they're exhausting to go through. Don't get me wrong, it has some good moments, really does. But on the whole, this show wastes a LOT of your time. I don't think it's too much to say that you could cut at least 30% of content, and STILL get to the plot. For a show, that's a LOT. This is a show you should definitely NOT start this franchise with. Treat yourself, watch TFP or TFA. Maybe even beast wars. Just...not this.

Final verdict: 6/10.

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

TSS alien/space au, cause why not? WARNIG this one is really angsty and a lot darker than some of my other stuff, so pay attention to the tags, and stay safe!

Next

AO3

...

He doesn’t want to be here. 

He doesn’t know where “here” is, exactly, but that hardly matters, anymore.

 What he wants hasn’t mattered in a long, long time.

 Still, he could take it, he did take it, he didn’t really have a choice, of course, but he’d learned long ago that fighting only made everything worse.

 He would have kept fighting them, regardless, but one time they got it into their heads that a good punishment would be separating them. He’d been alone for three days, terrified out of his mind, pacing, waiting, anxiety clawing at his chest, barely able to breathe, much less function.

 And when they did bring him back, he was a shaking, sweating, bruised and bloodied mess. They were both used to the injuries from the experiments, or the testing, but this was something else, this was torture, and it had been his fault, it had been to teach him a lesson, and he had never been so scared that his brother was going to be actually taken from him then that time, it had taken a week of careful tending and his sloppy, half knowledge of first aid before his brother had opened his eyes, and the first thing the half dead idiot did was smile up at him, and he’d lost it.

 He hadn’t fought back, since then. He’d been docile as a lamb, he didn’t so much as scream anymore, didn’t let a single sob escape his lips when he was strapped to the table, for fear that they would separate them again, and it was selfish of him, but it was only half because he was worried for Roman. He was more worried for himself, what he would become if he didn’t have his brother to keep him sane.

 He knew they were testing him, after that. He knew, because it got worse for him, but easier for Roman, and that’s what mattered, he was fine with that. If they were focused on him, all the better.

 They wanted to see how far they could push him, before he snapped. How far would he go, before he gave in, made a noise, fought back, disrespected them, gave them any excuse to punish him? The answer was simple. Never. Never, if it kept Roman safe.

 Oh, it hurt like hell. Sometimes he was aware, sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes they injected things into him, things made his skin burn until he wanted to peel it off himself, sometimes things that choked his breathing, felt like ice shards stabbing into his lungs, sometimes things that made everything go hazy and warped and reality break around him, until he was feverish and unsure where he even was anymore. Sometimes they poked, prodded, slashed, burned, stabbed, branded, broke bones, dislocated limbs, he wasn’t entirely sure what else. Just anything and everything to test his resilience, his resistance to pain, his stubbornness.

 He knew it was something to do with measuring human’s durability, their resistance to different chemical mixtures and resilience in healing, knew that some days after he was exhausted from shaking, from biting his tongue so hard it bled instead of letting a single whimper slip past his lips they took blood, plasma, they measured the methodical cuts of varying deepness they had etched into different parts of his body, typing away on their tablets any progress or delays.

 The worst was when they purposefully let wounds get infected, let them fester and rot, veins turning purple, skin turning black, until he could feel the infection creeping through his blood, fever and chills sweeping through him so hard Roman had to hold him still or he’d hurt himself seizuring. Those were the times he was almost sure he was going to die, and he’d smile at Roman, because if he really was going out, the last goddamn thing his brother was going to see of him was his smile.  

 But that doesn’t matter anymore.

 Despite everything, despite all he’d done, despite his best efforts, it doesn’t matter. Existence is futile at this point, everything is.  

The beings that had brought him here had been gentle. Nice, almost, if he believed anyone could be nice anymore. They’d brought him to this room, with gentle reassurances that everything would be fine, and then left.

 It is bare, but almost anything is an improvement over his previous lodgings. That had been a cold, dark, cell. Solid metal walls and floors, they hadn’t even bothered to keep them on a light/dark cycle, a dirty pile of hay as a bed, a slot for their meager rations, nearly all of which he gave to Roman instead, no matter how much he protested. Here there’s an actual bed, carpeted floors, soft, not too bright radiant lighting that must be somewhat UV, because he hasn’t felt warmth like this in years.

 He hadn’t even noticed the light dimming, but he realizes suddenly it’s dark. Not completely, not pitch black like the cell, he can still see the outline of the room, of everything, clearly, though it doesn’t stop his breath from hitching.

 He’s in the corner, curled tight into a ball, hands tangled in his hair, so no one can sneak up on him from any direction. He hasn’t moved from this spot since he was put in here, two, maybe three, days ago? He doesn’t quite know. He knows he hasn’t eaten anything, though they bring him three meals a day. They’ve progressively  been getting more elaborate, more enticing, he knows they’re trying to get him to eat, to drink, something, anything, and he knows he should, but what’s the point? The smell just makes him sick, the thought of eating any of it nearly makes him choke.

 He knows they’ve been talking to him, too, though he’s so hazy and half out of his mind he doesn’t really remember what they’ve been saying. He knows there’s at least three of them. One, soft spoken and kind, that gives off an aura of safety, of home, almost human, except for the large, fluffy blue speckled wings on his back. The third is some kind of Naga, face scaled and eyes slitted, hands ending in sharp claws, lingering on the s’s when he pronounces them. The final member is a human, which should set him at ease, but only scares him more, for some reason, because if they can brainwash a human, what chance does he stand? He’s never been smart, only good for the physical tests, he always failed the mental challenges set before him, every puzzle and game and riddle, until they even gave up on punishing him for it.

 Every time someone enters, he pulls back, huddling tighter into his corner, no matter how far away they stay, he hisses and spits and growls, letting them think he’s gone mad, gone feral, and maybe he has, maybe he really, truly has, but he doesn’t care because every time he sees one of them, hears the door, his stomach twists with the most agonizing, crushing hope, because part of him believes one of these times it will be Roman, but it will never, never be Roman.

…

He’s in the cell. He’s pacing, endlessly pacing, because for the first time in weeks, they’ve taken Roman from him, and despite his better judgement, he fought back, because he can’t handle Roman getting hurt, he won’t let them take him, because he has a terrible sense that if they take him again, he won’t ever see him once more.

 But he failed, he failed miserably, and Roman is gone.

 He lurches towards the door at the sound of noise, the sound of alarms and shouts, He’s never heard that before, which scares him, new is never good, new means a new test, one he doesn’t know the rules of, one he can’t win.

 The door flies open, and he barely catches Roman as he’s flung into the room, the door slamming shut, and it takes his eyes a moment to readjust. When he does, he gasps.

 Roman is soaked in blood. So much blood, it’s never been this bad before, something must have gone wrong, there’s a deep, jagged cut across his abdomen, that’s where the blood is coming from, and desperately, he presses down on it, wincing at Roman’s hoarse scream of pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, trying to ignore the red that seeps out between his fingers, he’s losing too much, too much, they must have hit an artery, or… or something, if he wasn’t so stupid he would know what to do, so his brother would stop dying in his arms.

 “R… rem…” His eyes lock on Roman’s, hazy with pain and glazed with confusion, but open and aware, and Roman cradles him close, helping support him, as he coughs, blood dribbling out of his mouth, bloodying his gums, staining his teeth.

 “Shh, shh, it’ll be ok, RoRo, I’m gonna-“ His voice splinters, and he heaves in a breath, “gonna patch you right up, just like always, yeah? Sound good?” He pleads more than asks, running his hands through Roman’s hair, keeping one hand pressed tight to his wound, forcing a smile to his face through the desperate tears.

 “d…don’t think y-y-you can.” Roman stutters, a frightening gurgling coming from his lungs as he heaves again, coughing up blood, and he realizes he’s screaming, as Roman’s eyes close, as his head lolls, his body goes limp against his, his breathing stopping, and he screams louder, harder, until it shatters his own eardrums, until he isn’t even sure he’s still screaming, until nothing else in the world has ever existed or mattered except this, this moment of unbearable loss.

  Then the door opens, and someone is speaking, and someone is pulling him away, disentangling Roman from his arms, and he’s still screaming, but his voice has long since given out, and he fights, he thrashes, he growls and claws and bites and snaps, at everyone, anyone, within reach, because they’re taking him, they can’t take him, they can’t have him, he won’t let them, he WON’T!

 Then cool, soft calm radiates through him, stilling him instantly as he goes complacent. His memories are fuzzy after that, he remembers flashes of a ship, flashes of conversation, of apologies from the winged one, then the room.

…

He doesn’t look up at the door opening. He hasn’t even checked if it’s locked, honestly. Hasn’t looked for any way of escape, it doesn’t mean anything, now.

 “hey kiddo.” He flinches, though the voice is soft and gentle, nothing but warm and kind, so hard his head cracks against the wall. He realizes his world is spinning, tears are dripping down his face, he’s hyperventilating. That must be why they sent Feathers, as he’s nick named him in his mind, because he was panicking again. “I need you to breathe, ok? In and out.” He does, he doesn’t know why he does, but he does, copying Feathers’ pattern until his heaving comes to a slow stop. He doesn’t otherwise acknowledge the being, doesn’t look up or speak or do anything other than curl tighter as he feels the being move closer.

 “easy, bud. You know, you’d feel better if you ate something. Or at least drank something. You can’t go this long without water.”

 And you can? He wants to bite out, but he doesn’t, he doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t react. He hears the person sigh.

 “I don’t want to, but I know you’re hurting yourself. I won’t let you give up like this kiddo, I don’t want to use my abilities, but you’re not giving me much of a choice.” He laughs, bitter, dark, angry, teeth bared and eyes flaming with raging hurt. He’s a bit satisfied to see Feathers stumble back, eyes wide.

 “Go the fuck ahead. It won’t change anything. Go ahead and prolong my suffering. Go ahead and do whatever the hell you want to me. Go ahead and use me and break me and pretend to give a shit, I couldn’t care less what you do at this point, I may as well be already dead. I may as well kill myself.” He barely sees Feathers anymore, eyes wild, all the thoughts that have been silent the past few days because of his grief overwhelming him all at once. “I could bash my head against the wall until it split open and my brains fell out of my skull. I could tie the bedsheets together into a noose, I could waterboard myself with them, too, I could claw open my wrists with my nails, oh, or I could claw my chest open and rip out my own heart, crush it my fist. Do I even have one anymore? I don’t think I do. If I do, it’s not beating, that’s for sure, it’s dead and cold and hard as a stone, it doesn’t mean anything anymore, nothing means anything anymore.” He pauses, cocking his head. “Could you kill me? Could you convince my brain to turn off? Convince my blood to stop pumping? Could you make my instincts shut off so I could smother myself with a pillow, or drown myself in a puddle, or slit my own throat with my nails?”

 “kiddo…” He laughs again, heedless of the tears streaming down his face.

 “It’s nothing worse than they’ve already done to me, nothing worse than I let them do to me, there’s nothing worse that could possibly happen, I lose him, I lost him, and it’s my fault, and he’s gone, he’s gone, and it’s my fault, and I couldn’t stop the bleeding and I just, I can’t, I need…” He’s hyperventilating again, and he lets out a choked scream of rage, lunging to his feet. For a moment he sees fear in Feathers’ eyes, but he doesn’t care, he smashes his fist against the wall, screaming, and it feels good, so he does it again, and again, and again, until he knows bones have broken, but he doesn’t care, because the pain is a fraction of what he feels inside, a fraction of what he deserves, and then that peace is slipping back over him and he falls to his knees, vision swimming before going black. “roman… ro… please…” he whimpers, letting the dark sweep him away, praying he never wakes up.

…

“Patton!” Virgil races into the room, having fled the monitor room as soon as the human lunged to his feet, skidding to a stop at the sight that greets him.

 He is sitting on the floor, the unconscious human cradled in his arms, wings wrapped tight in what Virgil knows to be a soft cocoon of warmth.  

 “we made a mistake, Virg.”

 “That’s what you’re worried about!? I thought he was going to kill you, or kill himself, or both!” Patton shakes his head as the human whimpers in his arms.

 “We need to put them together. They need each other.”

 “He’s right. I’m not usually one for the whole touchy feely thing, but even I can feel the despair radiating off him.” Janus adds, making Virgil jump and scowl at Janus's smirk.

 “Maybe we should wait for Logan.” Virgil responds doubtfully, but Patton shakes his head vehemently.

 “no. Now, we can’t wait.”

 …

 He wakes up slowly, and not at all, at first. It’s like swimming through molasses, probably because he can’t even remember the last time he slept, and his body is trying to take advantage. Then again, what does he have to wake up for?

 But there’s something. A soft voice, an arm around him, a familiar, comforting scent, and his eyes snap open, fear and hope and aching, overwhelming need forcing him awake, forcing him to see, cause if it isn’t true, he will die.

 Amber eyes, pale skin, strong cheek bones, pale and face a bit flushed, but awake, and holding him, and he can’t help but let out a pent up, anguished sob, burying against him with all his might, barely heedful of the wound he knows is there, but there’s no blood, somehow, and Roman is here and alive and, this can’t be overstated, Roman is alive.

 “please… please don’t… I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have fought, I should have fought harder, I thought you died because of me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I…” He can’t speak anymore, through the tremors wracking his body, the relief flooding through him heady and dizzying and his mind is shorting out and he’s crying ugly, sobbing, snotty, tears, but he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. “I let them take you away, I thought they took you away, they took you.”

 “Remus, Remus, Remus, I know, I know, it’s not your fault, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here, I’m here, and you’re here and we’re safe now.” He clings to his brother harder, almost sick from the level of heightened emotion he’s feeling, every breath like a dagger being ripped out of his chest, and he swears he can feel his heart start beating again, time start ticking once more.  

 “don’t go. Don’t… don’t go, don’t leave, please, please, don’t leave me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t go, I can’t… I can’t if you go. Please stay.” He begs, fists curling tighter around the fabric of Roman’s soft shirt, shifting so he’s eye to eye with his brother, unable to stop searching his face, every inch of his face, for any sign this is just another fever dream.”

 “I’m not, I’m not going anywhere. I promise, Rem, I absolutely promise.” Roman yawns hugely and he smirks, letting his hand card through Roman’s hair, slipping behind him so Roman is laying against his chest, nearly atop him, wrapping his arm around Roman’s middle, resting it over his heart, to feel the steady pulsing beat. He nestles his head in the crook of Roman’s shoulder, gently rocking his brother slightly, feeling him let out another long yawn.

 “Go to sleep, brobro. I’ll be ok. As long as you’re ok, I’ll be ok. And I’m not going anywhere, either. Never, never, never. I swear.” He whispers, feeling Roman smile, the action bringing more tears to his eye, because his smile lights up his entire world, it’s all he ever strives for, another smile, another laugh, another second warm and safe and happy with his baby brother in his arms.

 He freezes as the door to the room opens, unconsciously holding Roman tighter in his arms, uncomfortably reminded of his brother being ripped from him, of when the cell door would slide open and figures in masks would come for him, and he hisses, baring his teeth, staring daggers at the tall, too slim figure with crystalline skin.

 “Greetings-" before the being can get another word out, he has lunged to his feet, slammed him against the wall, growl a low rumble in his chest, because memories are washing over him, and he suddenly hates this being with all of his might.

 “You.” He hisses, hand against the being’s throat, pinning him to the wall. “You pulled him away from me.”

 “I did. I needed space to work in order to have a chance at saving him.” The being’s luminous silver eyes meet his evenly and emotionlessly, betraying not a hint of fear at the snarling human two seconds away from killing him.

 “You kept us apart.”

 “For healing purposes, yes, I-“

 “YOU HAD ME BELIEVE HE DIED!” He screams, and finally, something like guilt or remorse flickers through those eyes, though it does nothing to dampen his rage. “He is the last fucking thing I have in this hell hole of a world, and you had me convinced he was dead and it was as good as my fault.” He growls, low and dark, and he thinks he does have enough rage in him, to kill this person, to end him, because how could he do something like that, how could he say that?

 “That… was a miscalculation on my part. At first we weren’t sure he was going to make it, so it wasn’t much of a lie, and I didn’t want to bring you two into contact with one another without first knowing the nature of your relationship. I did not want to risk the possibility that you were the one responsible for his state.” He lets out a harsh half laugh half sob, pressing harder against the being’s throat, enough that he can see him struggling to get in a full breath of air.

 “I was holding him in my arms. I was sobbing, I was screaming, I was mourning, I was breaking, I didn’t think I could get anymore broken, but somehow you managed to prove me wrong. That? That was crueler than anything that ever happened to us back there, I can tell you that much, and from the bottom of my soul, I will never, never forgive you for it.” He swears, about to step back, but suddenly the door slams open and the world shifts around him.

[emotchalla]

Tempt You - V.

A/N: HELLO so I never thought I would finish this fucking part like I had all the ideas I just could not execute it??? I’m convinced this is still shit but I really wanted to post it, so here you are bbs! Quarantine has not given me that much inspo, unfortunately, but the sun has been out recently and I was motivated to get some writing done. ALSO, I just found out that Isiah’s name is actually Isiah and NOT Isaiah??? Like I just thought they pronounced it weird on the show bc Brummie accent but NO, that boy’s name is just Isiah. I’m so fucking shook lmao. ALSO ALSO, he’s a very hard character to write (pls be gentle!!!) because Stephen Knight literally gives us N O T H I N G and I could rant about how underutilized he is for DAYS but y’all did not come here for that! Enjoy the smut bbs! 

**All my works are written with a Black or POC reader in mind, because I am one myself, but all readers welcome!**

Pairing: Modern!Michael Gray x Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet Isiah, Michael’s best friend. After a night of dancing and rounds of shots at the bar, you invite Michael back to yours, and well...

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol use, gratuitous Isiah flirting (I’m sorry; I love him!!!) NSFW content (fingering, oral [f receiving], protected sex, dirty talk, light choking), soft Dom!Michael x sub!reader, Fluff (he really likes you, so he’s sweet)

Word Count: 8.4k+ (I actually died while writing this and resurrected just to upload. You’re welcome.)

series masterlist | main masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | listen to “tempt you (evocatio)” here | find the spotify playlist here

**GIF not mine**

The next two weeks pass as if they’ve really been no time at all, and it’s mostly due to the strides you and Michael have made in your relationship. Things aren’t official yet, and you try to not let it annoy you. You know that he’s busy; he called a few days ago to update you with the news that his client was in fact being framed, and he and the team had been able to break their witnesses just by cross-examining them. You knew he was intimidating, but this was proof on a completely different level. When you told Michael this, he told you that one of his cousins told him the only reason he’d been given his law license was because he scared the shit out of the test administrators for his LPC. You told him that said cousin was a genius, and he grumbled something about how of course you’d like fucking John, and you launched into your relentless teasing.

It was the first time the two of you had been able to do more than text since your special night. Not only was he busy with work, school was kicking your ass and your audition was right around the corner. Regardless, you both found ways to talk to each other. You kept up with the daily pictures, most of them tame, and when Michael had a spare minute away from the courtroom, you’d check in about your days. It was as normal as things could get for now, and while it sucked to not see Michael for a month, you knew the reunion would be worth it. He’d promised you as much.

It’s Friday night, Michael’s just won his case, and you’ve invited him to go dancing with Savvy and a guy she’s seeing. When Michael imagined a night with you—celebrating his big win and getting to see you for the first time in a literal month—he wasn’t imagining going out to a club and dancing the night away. Michael doesn’t dance. When he was younger, he was too busy snorting coke in the alleyways behind pubs to bother with the dance floor. He didn’t even dance at Tommy’s wedding. But Michael can’t say no to you. He tries to exercise restraint, he does, but there’s a part of him that likes giving you whatever you ask as soon as you ask for it. So dancing it is. 

He wishes that if he had to take you to a club, it could be one that John or Isiah owns. At least he knows the environment, the people. He can blend in because their clubs are full of people he knows. It’d be nothing to sneak off with you and make good use of one of the VIP rooms. In a club run by, well, anyone else…Michael has to be on his guard. He doesn’t have control of what photo snapped in a dark corner ends up in some gossip mag’s inbox come Monday morning. The media follows the Shelbys and their progeny like vultures. Michael isn’t ready to expose you to that. Not yet. So maybe he might’ve asked Isiah to spontaneously visit from Birmingham and “happen to turn up” at the same club you’ll be at tonight. If you’re up for it, he’ll introduce the two of you. He knows you’ll get on immediately. 

“Y/N, if you don’t fuck that man tonight I’ll be so disappointed,” Savvy says as she examines your reflection in the bathroom mirror. “You look so fucking good.”

You grin at her as you set the last curl in your hair. Nights that you went out were few and far between, so you tended to go all out when you had the chance. The dress you’ve chosen for the night is actually one of Savvy’s that she insisted would look better on you. It hugs you in all the right places, and your boobs look good. Some of your favorite moments with Michael so far have been ones where you’ve made him speechless, and you can’t wait to do it tonight.

“Oh I don’t know if we’ll go that far, Sav,” you shrug, barely believing yourself.

If Michael gave you the chance, you were going to take it.

“Bullshit! The man bought you lingerie and sex toys.”

“Just because he did all of that, it doesn’t mean he’s gonna wanna fuck tonight.”

“He’s absolutely going to want to fuck tonight.”

“Just because you’re always thinking about sex, doesn’t mean everyone else is!” you giggle, watching as Savvy’s jaw drops in fake indignation.

“Now listen here, bitch!”

You both giggle as you turn back to the mirror—you to finish your hair, and Savvy to apply her lipstick. The night had already started for the two of you; while visiting her sister in Paris, Savvy had gotten used to having a glass of champagne while getting ready for their nights out. She insisted that the two of you carry on the tradition. Your head is already starting to float, and a warmth has settled into your skin. Tonight will be a good night. The doorbell rings, signaling Oliver’s arrival. Oliver dances in the same ballet company that Savvy does, and they’ve started seeing each other. You like him well enough. He’s charming, good to Savvy, and incredibly fun to party with.

The club you’re going to is right around the corner from where you live, so you’re having Michael meet you there. He’s had a hell of a month, and you want tonight to be a night where he can unwind. Although he’d won the case, he had a massive pile of work waiting for him in the office, so it’d be a bit before he could join you.

“I’ll go get Oliver. You finish up in here,” Savvy says, throwing you a wink over her shoulder as she leaves the bathroom.

You nod, and return your gaze to the mirror. Maybe Savvy is right about tonight. You’re tempted to snap a picture of your outfit to send to Michael, but you decide to let him be surprised when he sees you. You plan to drive him as wild as he’ll let you. If that means all the way…well, you’re ready to make this night worth it. Savvy’s giggle comes from the living room as she laughs at some joke Oliver’s just said, and you smile to yourself. She deserves to be happy.

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your phone and leaving the bathroom to join Savvy and Oliver.

“There she is!” Oliver greets, giving you a warm smile as you enter the living room.

“It’s good to see you!”

You give him a quick hug before he pulls away to give you a once-over. He nods, grinning at you.

“You two didn’t come to fuck around tonight, aye? You look fantastic, Y/N.”

You giggle, knocking your shoulder with his.

“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite person Savvy’s ever dated?”

“You tell me every time you see me, but that doesn’t mean I ever want you to stop. I love the validation.”

“You sure Savvy’s the Prima ballerina and not you?”

Oliver cracks up, and soon you’re laughing with him. Savvy rolls her eyes in fake annoyance, grumbling to herself about how much she wishes you hated Oliver, so you wouldn’t talk so much. You all know she doesn’t mean it; she couldn’t be happier that two of her favorite people are fond of one another. It makes her feel like this can really go somewhere.

“Come on,” Oliver says, turning to wrap an arm around Savvy’s waist. “Let’s get out of here while you two have control of your limbs.”

Savvy’s the one to mouth off to him this time, and you shake your head as they begin to tease each other back and forth. It’s still warm enough outside that you don’t need a jacket, but you drape one over your shoulders just in case. You chat idly with Savvy and Oliver on your walk to the club. Still, your thoughts are entirely elsewhere. You can’t wait to see Michael tonight. It’s a bit strange to have moved so quickly, but you also find it exhilarating. Michael is unlike anyone you’ve ever met, and it makes him the most interesting man in the world.

There’s already a line starting to stretch around the corner when you reach The Lilac Room. Oliver whistles under his breath.

“It’s usually never this bad. Maybe someone’s making an appearance.”

You and Savvy both shrug as you follow him toward the large black doors lined with lavender UVs. He nods toward the bouncer, who immediately smiles at him in recognition. Another perk of Savvy dating Oliver? His older brother owned a series of nightclubs all across the city. Any time the two of you wanted a night out, you had your pick of venues, free drinks, and enough security personnel who knew who you were connected to to ensure that you had a night of stress-free dancing. No creepy men trying to buy you drinks and convince you to head back to his flat for the night. Just pure, uninterrupted fun. It made you wish you had more time to actually go out.

The moment you’re inside the club, you’re itching to make a beeline for the illuminated dance floor in the center of the room. Savvy and Oliver steer you toward a VIP booth instead, where a waiter is already waiting to take your drink orders.

“Why are we sitting? We came to dance!” you whine as Savvy urges you into the booth with a nudge of her hip.

Oliver merely chuckles before leaning over to the waiter to order your first round of drinks for the night. Mojitos for you and Savvy, a finger of scotch for Oliver, and for Michael—

“What do you think your guy would like, Y/N?” Oliver asks, a slight twinkle in his eye.

You think he and Michael will get along quite well. Sadly, you don’t know enough about Michael to know his favorites, but he told you during some late night phone call or another that on really rough days, he’d lock himself in his office and nurse a bottle of whiskey. His cousin Tommy’s, if he had it. As long as it could get him drunk, he wouldn’t complain.

“Whiskey, neat, I’m thinking,” you tell him, and Oliver’s face breaks out into a grin.

“I like him already,” he says, before turning back to the waiter.

You turn toward Savvy.

“I think he and Michael are gonna get along a little too well,” you sigh.

She nods.

“I think Ollie’s gonna like your boy more than you do.”

You share a laugh before Oliver comes back over.

“If you two want to check out the dance floor now feel free to. I’ll wait here for the drinks.”

Savvy leans over to give him a quick kiss.

“You’re the best,” she murmurs against his lips, and you don’t miss the way Oliver’s eyes sparkle when they look at her.

Savvy grabs your hand then, and you both head to the dance floor. Almost immediately, you’re surrounded by a group of other dancing bodies, and you feel the stress of the past month give way with every thump of the bass. You can lose yourself here. You and Savvy quickly fall into your usual pattern, bodies moving along to the music steadily pumping through the club’s speakers as you’re gently jostled toward the center of the dance floor. Savvy throws her arms across your shoulders as the two of you giggle and dance even closer together. It’s easy to fall into rhythm with Savvy, and you toss your head back as she twirls you around. Savvy leans in close to your face.

“There’s a guy watching you over at the bar,” she whispers, turning you around to catch the briefest glimpse of him before spinning you to face her again.

You grin and shake your head.

“How do you know he’s not watching you?”

Savvy rolls her eyes.

“Because I pay attention,” she scoffs. “Go talk to him.”

You raise an eyebrow at her.

“Michael will be here any minute.”

“And? You’re still single and you look hot tonight. I think you can flirt with a rando at a bar without him worrying about being mugged off.”

“Oh Savvy I don’t know,” you sigh. “I really like him.”

Savvy rolls her eyes.

“I know you do, Y/N, but you’ve also had a shit month and you’re wound tighter than a fucking spring! You can have fun, let the very hot guy at the bar buy you a drink, and then come back and dance with me until your sugar daddy boyfriend gets here, okay?”

“He’s not my sugar daddy Savvy,” you correct.

“Again, I call bull. But stop stalling and get your ass over to the bar.”

She gently pushes you in the bar’s general direction, and you shake your head at her antics, mustering up the courage to approach the stranger across the room whose eyes you can now see are trained on your every move. There’s something familiar about him almost immediately, but you can’t place it. He smirks as he watches you approach, leaning back into the bar with an ease that’s natural. He moves like Michael does, you think. He moves like he owns the place. You’d believe he did, if you didn’t know Oliver’s brother personally. As you get closer to the stranger, you watch his eyes widen at the sight of you. You take a seat at the bar, leaving enough distance between you and him that if he wants to talk, he’ll have to come over to you. You glance at him over your shoulder before motioning toward the bartender, hoping the stranger will take the hint.

“Ice water, please,” you ask the bartender.

You want to keep your wits about you.

“Are you here with anyone?”

You turn toward the voice that’s warmer than you expected. The stranger smiles at you, full lips stretching across white teeth, and your stomach does somersaults. He’s gorgeous in the way that models are, and has the warmest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I-I am, yeah. Well, waiting for someone,” you stammer, a bit taken aback.

He frowns, but gives you a small nod.

“Can’t say I’m pleased to hear it, though it’s what I expected,” he drawls, luring you in almost immediately.

Woah. His voice is like honey—warm and smooth, and a bit dark too—and you instantly know that this man knows what he’s doing. To prove it, he smirks at you as the next words tumble from his mouth.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous so of course you’ve got someone. Although I will say, he seems like a pretty shit guy to leave a girl like you alone tonight.”

Chatty, too, you think to yourself, amused by him already. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he leans across the bar to extend his hand.

“I’m Isiah.”

“Y/N,” you say, taking his hand to shake it. “I’m surprised you let me get a word in.”

Isiah laughs loud enough for the whole bar to hear, and sure enough, some patrons turn to glance your way before going back to their own business. If Michael shows up to the club before you’ve made it back to Savvy, you hope he won’t get the wrong idea.

“It’s a shame you are seeing someone,” he chuckles. “It’s not often you find a girl that’s both good to look at and to talk to.”

From the cheeky glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s just chatting, but you don’t resist the urge to take the bait and light him up a bit.

“Well maybe if you weren’t an ass that only approached girls because you liked the look of them, you’d find that most of us are able to hold a conversation.”

You wink at him as the bartender brings over your water, and reaches to replace Isiah’s glass of whiskey. Isiah turns toward you, a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re right. That was a bit of a dick thing to say. Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

You roll your eyes playfully at his question. Quite the charmer, this one.

“I did tell you I was waiting for someone,” you tease.

“I know,” he says. “I just want to buy you a drink. Promise.”

You take a minute to get a good look at him. He’s a beautiful man, you’ve gathered that already. Smooth, warm brown skin and even browner, sparkling eyes. He might be one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.

“Sure,” you say. “I’ll take a mojito.”

He grins at you before giving you a quick nod and placing your order with the bartender. Put anything she orders on my tab, you hear him say, and you marvel at the gesture. It’s a shame that you can’t actually flirt with him like you’d really like to.

“So where’re you from?” he asks.

“The States. Chicago. I moved here for grad school. What about you?”

“Birmingham,” he answers, and your eyes light with recognition.

“I thought I recognized your accent.”

Isiah stares back at you, incredulous. How would you know his accent?

“You been there before?”

“No,” you begin, shaking your head. “My boyf—er, friend’s from there.”

Did you just slip up and almost call Michael your boyfriend? Shit. You’re in this deeper than you thought. Isiah nods.

“Ah, well he’s got good taste.”

“In what?”

“Girls and hometowns.”

His goofiness surprises you, and you let a giggle slip from your lips. Isiah’s eyes light at the sound.

“What a pretty laugh,” he sighs.

You thank him sweetly, and he mutters under his breath about how unfair it is that you’re basically spoken for, because you’re fucking perfect. The bartender brings your drinks, and when Isiah hands you your glass, goosebumps rise on your skin as your fingertips graze his. You take the opportunity to gaze at him while you sip your drink, watching as he loses himself in your eyes. It’s good to know that he feels it too. This pull—magnetic, almost. Instinctively, he leans closer, and your breath catches in your throat. Before either of you can do anything you’ll eventually regret, you feel an arm wrap around your waist.

“There you are.”

Michael. Thankfully, Isiah registers his presence before Michael notices that he’s been flirting with you.

“I should’ve known she was your girl,” Isiah chuckles, shaking his head.

“I should’ve known the two of you would find each other without me having to introduce you.”

Your eyes widen as you look back and forth between the two of them.

“You know each other?”

They both laugh, nodding at you. Michael’s eyes are bright as he looks down to give you a soft smile.

“Isiah’s my best mate, basically my brother. We’ve been friends since we were teens,” he says. “He’s also the only person I know, besides my cousin John, that’s cheekier than you.”

You roll your eyes at the last bit, which only makes him laugh.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed you, you ass.”

He chuckles and pulls you close to press a kiss to your temple.

“Mm, I’ve missed you too,” he hums, giving your waist a quick squeeze before pulling away to turn to his friend. “Do you mind if I stay and chat to Isiah for a bit? You can head back to Savvy if you’d like, I’ll join you soon.”

You nod, and turn to Isiah.

“It was really great to meet you. Thank you for the drink! It’s good to know Michael actually has friends,” you quip, offering him a sweet smile.

He grins.

“It was great to meet you too, Y/N. I’ll see you ‘round, yeah?”

You nod, and give him a small wave goodbye before heading over to Savvy and Oliver who have made themselves comfortable in the booth you’ve been given for the night.

“Holy shit Sav,” you gush, as soon as you’re within earshot. “So that was Michael’s best friend.”

Savvy’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of her skull.

“What??” she asks, incredulous.

“I didn’t know it until Michael came over and actually introduced us, but yeah. God, I’m a little embarrassed. I need another drink.”

Oliver’s eyebrows raise at that.

“Shots?”

You nod quickly.

“Hell yes. Shots.”

He smirks at you. How Savvy managed to find a boyfriend that’s essentially your carbon copy is something you’ll never figure out, but you don’t even mind. Thank the universe for Oliver.

“I’ll head over to the bar now then.”

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

“It gets better every time you tell me!”

You both giggle at yourselves, and Savvy rolls her eyes.

“You two are obnoxious,” she whines.

“We know,” Oliver says, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to her mouth.

He grabs the glass of whiskey you ordered for Michael and heads toward the bar. As soon as he’s gone, Savvy turns toward you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Spill.”

“You’re such a gossip, you know that Sav?”

“Stop stalling!”

You sigh, glancing over at the bar to see Oliver engaged in lively conversation with Michael and Isiah, and you smile to yourself.

“He was really, really nice,” you begin. “And funny, and sweet, and basically if I wasn’t already somewhat-dating his best friend I would’ve had no problem letting him take me home tonight.”

Savvy’s jaw drops.

“Shut up.”

“I know.”

“You weren’t even over there for that long!”

You nod in agreement.

“That’s why it’s so bizarre. I don’t know, Sav, it just felt…good to talk to him. Comfortable, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Savvy muses. “You could always date them both.”

“Savvy!”

“You could! It’s 2020, Y/N.”

“I know I can, smartass,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not Michael’s thing.”

You can see the wheels turning in her drama obsessed brain.

“Threesome?”

“Savvy!”

You can’t control the laugh that escapes your mouth, and soon Savvy is laughing with you. When Michael and Oliver return to your booth—a round of shots for each of you in their hands—you’re still recovering from the fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Oliver asks, and you and Savvy quickly shake your heads.

“Oh it’s nothing, babe! Just being silly,” she says, reaching for one of the shots in his hand.

Michael slides into the booth next to you, setting the drinks down on the table. When he turns toward you, you feel the heat of his gaze immediately.

“Hi,” he breathes, leaning forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His hand lingers on your skin, fingers ghosting along the back of your neck. He resists the urge to tug you toward him and press a kiss to your lips, mostly because he can’t kiss you the way he’d like to in public. Not while he’s still this sober, anyway.

“Hi,” you echo, leaning into his touch.

“You don’t know how good it is to see you after the month I’ve had.”

“Hmm, you should show me then, Gray,” you smirk, reaching for the shot glasses.

“Trouble,” he murmurs, accepting the shot you offer him.

Savvy and Oliver turn toward you then, and the four of you toast glasses before tossing back your shots. Tequila. It burns your throat on the way down, and you shake your head as your body adjusts to the sting. Michael slides a glass of water your way, and you give him a grateful smile before taking a sip.

“We’re going to go dance!” Savvy announces, tugging on Oliver’s hand.

As she leads him out of the booth, she turns to give you and Michael a quick wink over her shoulder. Michael chuckles as you shake your head at Savvy’s antics.

“I, for one, am incredibly grateful for your roommate,” he says, sliding closer to you.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” you ask bemusedly.

A slow grin spreads across Michaels lips as he leans forward to cup the back of your head. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Because now I get to do this,” he purrs, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is softer than you expected, and you sigh into Michael’s mouth as he keeps his kisses slow. His fingers curl along your jaw to pull you closer.

“Michael,” you sigh against his mouth, fully leaning into his touch.

His other hand presses against your waist—and as your kisses quicken, Michael’s thumb rubs gentle circles into the bit of exposed skin at your stomach.

“I really like this dress,” he murmurs, allowing the tip of his thumb to graze the underside of your breast.

He runs his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth. Your hands tangle in his hair, and soon, you completely forget your surroundings. It’s definitely been too long since you’ve last kissed him, and if his actions tonight have been any indication: Michael feels the same way.

“We should go dance, you know,” you whisper against his lips, making no move to actually pull away.

“We’ll get there, eventually,” he counters, kissing you again.

You don’t protest when he slips his tongue in your mouth. His fingers trace your jaw, then your collarbone before finally coming to rest against your throat. He doesn’t apply pressure, but they rest there, and you feel a knot beginning to build in your stomach. Michael pulls away to look into your eyes then, fingers still pressed to your neck.

“I’m so tempted to say fuck it and let’s head back to mine, but I think Savvy’d have my head for that.”

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or Michael himself, but your head’s already buzzing. You nod, giving him a timid smile before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“She definitely would.”

“You’re a giddy drunk,” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest.

“I’m not drunk, yet,” you quip. “I’m just happy to see you. And maybe slightly tipsy.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “I’m happy to see you too. So happy, in fact, that I brought you a present.”

“Michael,” you start to protest.

“You’ll like this one, Y/N. I promise.”

He pulls away from you to pull something out of his jacket, and you try not to frown at the loss of contact. He hands you a plain white envelope. You look back at him, and urges you to open it. You recognize the print of the ticket stubs immediately. Shakespeare’s Globe. Titus Andronicus. Standing tickets. So he had listened to your rant about the best way to experience a show there. The smile on your face is likely enormous and stupid, but you can’t be bothered to care. You turn toward him to find him already grinning back at you.

“Did you go to my job and buy tickets for a show?”

He nods.

“I promised you that I’d let you take me to one.”

“I could have probably gotten them for free, you know?”

“I know,” he says. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see that look on your face.”

You lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. He gasps against your mouth, and you wrap an arm around the back of his neck to pull him closer. It’s unbelievably sweet of him to have thought of you and your job, especially amidst his own responsibilities. You’ve managed to catch him off guard by kissing him first, and Michael groans low in his throat as you card your fingers through his hair.

“Let’s go dance,” you whisper hotly against his mouth. “And then, I want you to take me home.”

Around shot four or five, Savvy suggests body shots. You’re beyond tipsy at this point—solidly drunk is more like it— and any idea that comes out of her mouth sounds like a good one in this state. At any rate, it’ll give Michael even more of an excuse to touch you. You’ve returned to your booth for a slight break from dancing. Michael holds his liquor much better than you do, but even he’s considerably under the influence. He’s taken off his jacket, and he watches as your fingers idly trace the buttons that line his torso. You’ve been glued to one another all night. Michael expected to hate dancing, but quickly found that it’s hard to hate anything that gives him an excuse to press your body to his in public. You’re a good dancer too. 

Savvy and Oliver return to the table with a plate of limes and a pair of salt shakers, and Michael’s eyes darken with an idea. You watch him, curiously, as he reaches toward one of the shot glasses. 

“Grab a lime, Y/N,” he instructs, reaching for the salt. 

You do as he says, watching him with bright eyes. 

“Now put it between those pretty lips of yours.”

You don’t miss the suggestive nature of his tone, and you smirk at him as you raise the lime slice to your mouth. You part your lips slightly, watching as Michael’s eyes zero in on them. 

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Relax. I’m putting it in my mouth right now,” you tease, laughing at your own cheek before popping the lime slice between your lips.

Michael rolls his eyes but leans his face close to whisper in your ear.

“Tilt you head back, and stay still for me, yeah?” 

You nod, before doing what he asks. Michael leans forward to press a kiss to your throat. You gasp, and as your body starts to lurch forward Michael’s hand is firm at your back.

“Easy,” he murmurs. 

He trails kisses from your neck to your collarbone, coming to rest at the slight peaks of your breasts exposed by your dress. Michael doesn’t hesitate to lick a stripe of skin, and cold air touches your skin for only a moment before you feel the sprinkle of salt. A hand cups the back of your head and tilts you forward to meet Michael’s dark, green eyes. 

“I should probably take that shot,” you hear him say, but you’re still focused on his eyes. 

Michael takes the shot without even wincing. When he leans forward to lick at the salt on your chest, he holds your eyes. He trails kisses up your neck until you can feel his breath along your jaw. Your breath catches as he leans forward to pluck the lime from your lips. When you grab at his shirt and pull him back in to kiss you, you can taste the tequila still on his tongue. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you remember that you aren’t entirely alone, so you don’t kiss Michael like you’d like to. Instead, you pull away to look into his eyes.

“I want to go home.”

He nods. 

“Okay. Let’s go, then.” 

You make quick work of saying goodbye to Savvy and Oliver, who plan on staying out “just a bit longer.” Michael makes a call, and then the two of you make your way toward the exit. The night is quiet outside of The Lilac Room, and as the two of you stumble toward your apartment, you’re grateful for the fresh air. Michael holds your hand as you make the short walk back to your apartment, listening to you chat idly about your upcoming audition and a recent conversation you’d had with one of your professors. He waits until you’re both inside your apartment to pull you close, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“I missed you so much,” he sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know it’s odd, seeing as we haven’t known each other long at all, but I did. I really did.” 

You smile at him, reaching up to cup one of his cheeks. 

“I missed you too, Michael.”

“Can I kiss you, gorgeous?”

“You know you can, Mr. Gray.”

“My cheeky girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours. 

This kiss is needier than you expected, but you lean into Michael’s touch. You stumble back toward your bedroom, tugging at his shirt to keep his lips pressed to yours. Thankfully, you left your door open before heading out, so you and Michael easily slip inside your room. He takes a second to pull away and shut the door behind you before leading you over to your bed. He kisses you again, and you let his hands guide you to lay back onto your bed. Michael follows your body, coming to settle between your thighs. You hook your legs around his waist, and Michael chuckles, pulling his mouth from yours.

“Not tonight, Y/N.”

You frown, looking up at him. 

“Why not?”

“Don’t pout,” he chides. “We’ve both been drinking. I don’t think either of us have got a clear enough head to be making that decision.”

“Fuck, why are you so nice?” you whine, flopping back onto your pillows. 

Michael chuckles and rolls off of you. He sits up to kick off his shoes, then reaches forward to unstrap your heels. 

“‘M only nice to you,” he insists.

You sit up onto your elbows and look at him.

“Help me out of this dress?”

He nods and offers a hand to you. 

“Come ‘ere.”

Michael helps you off of the bed and turns you around to get the zipper at your back. You slip the dress off of your shoulders, and Michael hands you the oversized t-shirt you have thrown at the foot of your bed. You slip it over your head and instruct Michael to check in your drawers for a set of sweat pants that would probably fit him. You head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and give him time to change, being sure to grab a bottle of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet before heading back to your room. Michael smiles at you when you come in, arms reaching to pull you close. 

“Let’s go to bed,” he hums drowsily, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You crawl under your covers, feeling Michael’s body follow close behind. He cradles you in his arms, pressing your back to his chest. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder before settling into your pillows. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he mumbles, already drifting to sleep. 

You smile as you close your eyes, relaxing against his chest. 

“Goodnight Michael.” 

You’re a goddess first thing in the morning, Michael thinks. He hasn’t always been an early bird, but he’s grown so used to mornings in court that it’s become a second nature. What he isn’t used to, is waking up in someone else’s bed. Sleeping next to a woman he hasn’t fucked. It’s odd how at home he feels with an arm slung around your waist and your cheek pressed to his chest. He keeps his breathing light, not want to disturb your sleep, not yet. He’d rather just hold you close while he ignores the headache starting to creep in at his temples. A quick glance over to your bedside table reminds him of the bottle of painkillers you set out before the two of you headed to bed, and Michael thanks the heavens that you’re bloody brilliant. He needs water though, and you will too when you wake. 

Slowly, he eases out from under you, waiting until you’ve settled against the pillows before he climbs out of your bed and heads toward the kitchen. There’s no sign of Savvy or Oliver, and he makes quick work of finding two glasses. He runs the tap until it’s cold, then fills up a cup for each of you before heading back to your room. He finds you splayed out against the pillows, starfish style. Cute, he thinks, ambling toward your nightstand. He’s careful to keep the bottle still, so the rattling of the pills inside don’t wake you up. Michael fishes two ibuprofen for both of you before setting the bottle back on the table and climbing into bed. Gently, he wraps an arm around your shoulder to shake you awake. You feel the soft press of lips against your temples, and smile in your sleepy haze.

“Wake up, pretty girl,” Michael coos, chuckling as you curl further into his chest.

“Mmm, don’t wanna,” you mumble, shaking your head.

“Come on, Y/N,” he laughs. “I wanna see your eyes. Please?”

His hands trace up and down your back as he presses slow kisses to your neck. Your body is certainly awake now, but you keep your eyes closed to draw out Michael’s teasing. He kisses his way up your neck and across your jaw, until his mouth reaches your earlobe.

“Wake up, Y/N,” he grunts, nibbling at your ear with his teeth.

Your eyes shoot open as a soft gasp leaves your lips, and Michael settles over you.

“There she is,” he hums, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

You smile against his mouth as you kiss him back, pulling him closer with a hand at the nape of his neck. Michael’s hips settle in between your thighs, and your legs wrap around his waist. Just like last night, you think. You can’t believe this is finally happening. 

“Wait wait,” Michael breathes, pulling away to sit back on his legs.

“Again?” you groan, sitting up to glare at him.

Michael smirks at you as he leans over toward your nightstand, reaching for a glass of water and the painkillers you set out last night. He pushes them into your hands before grabbing some of his own. Michael downs the medicine and the water before setting the glass down. His hands find your thighs, and his thumbs rub slow circles on your skin as he looks into your eyes.

“Take those and drink the entire glass, and I’ll make you feel good,” he whispers, voice low.

You don’t miss the heat in his eyes. Michael watches as you take the medicine and drink all of your water, thumbs  continuing to stroke the insides of your thighs. As soon as you finish, Michael leans forward to wrap an arm around your back. He takes the glass from your hand and sets it down. His hands trail up from your thighs and catch the hem of your t-shirt. He lifts it over your head before tossing it over his shoulder.

“Lean back onto your pillows,” he instructs, following your body with his. 

Michael slots his lips over yours, immediately dipping his tongue into your mouth. Eager to have his lips on yours again, you curl your fingers into his hair to keep his mouth close. Michael’s hands grip your waist, as you raise your hips to wrap your legs around his waist, caging him in once again. Michael smirks against your mouth.

“I’m starting to get the hint that this is a favorite position of yours,” he hums, hands sliding down to massage the globes of your ass.

“Michael,” you sigh, leaning your head back as his kisses trail toward your neck.

“I can’t wait to taste you, pretty girl,” he whispers against your skin, hands trailing up to tug your panties over your ass and down your legs.

Michael pulls away briefly to admire the sight of you naked before him. 

“You look perfect,” he sighs, reaching down to palm himself through his sweats.

“Thank you, Sir,” you whisper.

Michael grins at you, reaching forward to cup your cheek in his palm. 

“You gonna be good for me?”

You nod quickly, back arching when you feel one of his hands slip between your legs. He groans low in his throat when he feels you practically dripping for him already. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, watching through lidded eyes as he slides one finger into your slick heat. “You’re fucking wet.”

He peppers hot kisses against the base of your throat as he slowly works his finger, thumb coming up to rub soft circles on your clit. 

“Sh-Shit,” you whimper, as Michael sucks a mark onto your collarbone.

“Tell me how it feels,” he mumbles, adding another finger. 

“So good,” you gasp. “Fuck, Michael!”

He fucks you slow with his fingers, curling them slightly to reach even deeper before dragging them out again. His tongue laps at the mark he’s made, dark eyes watching you as you struggle to collect your words.

“It feels good,” you whine.

It’s all you can manage.

“Just good?” he hums. “Sounds like I should make it even better, yeah?”

You nod, watching as he trails his kisses down the center of your chest, over your stomach and upper thighs before coming to rest at their apex. He leans down to rest on his elbows, face to face with his fingers sliding in and out of you. 

“Can I have a taste?” he asks, licking his bottom lip as his eyes zero in on your wetness.

“Please, Sir,” you beg, hands already finding their place in his hair.

Michael flattens his tongue against you before licking a long stripe up your clit, pulling a beautiful moan from your lips. He laps at the pool of wetness that has started to gather on his fingers, and gazes up at you to watch you begin to unravel at his touch. There’s a pressure building in the pit of your stomach, and as Michael curls his fingers to brush against that spot, you start to see stars. 

“Oh fuck,” you whine as he wraps his lips around your clit.

Michael sucks, hard, pulling a squeal from your lips.

“Such pretty noises, baby,” he moans, watching you in awe.

You’ve never seen someone look at you with equal parts lust and admiration, but Michael gazes up at you as if you’re something divine. You feel yourself start to clench around his fingers, and Michael groans against you. He keeps his free hand at your hip, anchoring himself as he gets lost in you. He closes his eyes as he sucks harder, fingers pumping at a steady rhythm to bring you closer to the edge. You can feel your legs beginning to shake, and you tug at Michael’s hair.

“Sir, please,” you gasp, back arching as Michael curls his fingers again.

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum.”

“Go ahead,” he grunts, closing his lips around your clit again.

Your resolve snaps, and you gasp Michael’s name as you cum on his fingers. He slips his fingers out of you only to replace them with his tongue, fucking you slowly through your orgasm. You open your eyes to see him smiling up at you, mouth slick with your release. Michael presses soft kisses to your clit as your body settles from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He kisses up your body until he’s face to face with you, eyes lighting at your flushed cheeks. 

“I’ve been waiting entirely too long to do that,” is the first thing he says, and you’re too blissed out to come up with one of your usual witty comebacks.

Instead, you reach for his wrist and pull his fingers—still wet with your cum—and slip them into your mouth. Michael groans as you slip your tongue in between them, keeping your eyes on his.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he whispers, unable to look away from your plump lips as his fingers slip in and out and in and out.

He growls when your teeth graze his skin. One of Michael’s hands curls beneath your jaw, and he pulls you forward to straddle his hips. You let go of his fingers with an audible pop, staring into his lust-blown eyes.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Mr. Gray?” you ask sweetly, trailing a hand down his chest to slip into his sweatpants.

He’s hard and heavy in your hand, and you give him a few gentle strokes as you watch his resolve begin to break. A muscle ticks in Michael’s jaw, and his hand on your jaw slides down to wrap gently around your throat. 

“I am,” he growls, wrapping his other hand around your wrist to stop your movements. 

He instructs you to lay back, standing up to slip his sweats and boxers off of his hips and down his legs. You direct him over to the box of condoms nestled in a drawer under your bedside table, and you watch with hungry eyes as he slips the latex over his length. He’s bigger than you expected, and you watch him smirk as he registers the surprise in your eyes. Before you can start to genuinely ask him if he’ll actually fit, Michael covers his mouth with yours. One of his hands directs your arms above your head, and he latches onto your wrists to hold them there. 

“Please fuck me,” you whimper against his lips.

“Easy,” he chuckles, trailing a hand to the inside of your thigh to spread your legs wider for him. “I’ve got you.”

He takes himself in his hand, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. You whine, bucking your hips toward the touch, desperate for friction. 

“Please,” you sigh.

“You can have whatever you want when you beg me like that,” Michael groans, pushing himself forward to slip inside of you.

He takes his time to make sure you feel him inch by inch, sucking on your bottom lip with his tongue. He stills when he finally bottoms out, groaning low in his throat as you clench around his cock.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he murmurs.

“So do you,” you sigh, tossing your head back as he begins to move his hips. 

Michael keeps his thrusts slow, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist to pull him in deeper. His hand slips between the two of you to rub slow circles at your clit, and Michael lifts his mouth from yours to look into your eyes. 

“You’re squeezing the shit out of my cock, baby,” he groans as he continues his lazy thrusts, face falling to the crook of your neck.

Michael places hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin as he continues to work you open, spurred on by the soft moans leaving your lips with every thrust of his hips. It’s slow, sleepy morning sex, and you lose yourself in the feeling of Michael getting to know your body for the first time. It feels delicious, the pleasure he’s bringing you, and as he brings you closer toward your release you find yourself getting lost even further in his touch. You start to work your hips against his, and Michael’s hands grip your ass to pull you even closer.

“Fuck baby, look at you,” he coos. “Fucking your perfect little pussy on my cock. You’re such a good girl.”

His hand at your clit rubs the slightest bit faster, and you gasp as one of Michael’s hands returns to your throat. 

“I’m-I’m gonna—” your breath hitches in your throat, but Michael nods, understanding. 

He gives your throat a gentle squeeze as he feels your body tense, signaling the approach of your climax.

“Cum for me sweet girl,” he murmurs, staring hungrily at you as your body begins to unravel.

“Oh my god,” you whine as your orgasm takes you by surprise, gazing wide-eyed at Michael as he continues to fuck you through it.

“Shit, that feels good,” he hums, pistoning his hips a bit faster to chase his own release.

Your hands scrape along his back as you feel yourself on the edge of another, smaller orgasm, and you clench around Michael’s cock as his hips stutter. He’s close. 

“Come on my cock, Y/N,” he hisses, burying his face into the pillow behind you.

You let go. Michael’s body freezes as he’s struck with his own orgasm, and your name falls from his lips as he feels you squeeze him again. Absolutely perfect, he whispers into your skin, soft kiss after soft kiss up and down the column of your neck. He’s gorgeous in his post-orgasm glow, and you card your fingers through his hair as he catches his breath. You whine when he pulls his hips from yours, but he settles back onto the pillows to pull you onto his chest. 

“You’re everything I have ever wanted,” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Hmm, everything?” you sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth before pulling away to look into his eyes.

“Everything,” he confirms, brushing his fingers across your cheek.

“Well thank you,” you say, surprised at his sudden tenderness.

Michael gazes at you softly as you look down at him, green eyes shining with a fondness you suspect he’s reserved only for you.

“Can I ask you something?”

He breaks eye contact, staring down at his hands. 

“What is it, Michael?”

He takes a breath before looking up at you again, determination in his eyes.

“I don’t want to rush you, especially since last night was technically only our second date, but I was thinking, and wondering if maybe you’d like to—”

“Yes,” you interrupt, watching as the smile builds on Michael’s face.

“You didn’t even let me finish,” he smirks, leaning forward to touch his forehead to yours.

“Didn’t need to,” you hum. “I’ve been waiting too long for you to ask me out, officially, Gray.”

He’ll never get tired of that mouth of yours.

“Oh you have, hm?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to your lips.

You can feel him beginning to stir again between your legs, and you smirk against his mouth. 

“I have. You sure took your time.”

He chuckles and kisses you again, slipping his arms around you to cradle to close to his chest. 

“Let’s go take a shower,” he suggests, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. 

His head lolls lazily on his shoulders as he gazes up to look at you, running his tongue across his bottom lip. 

“And then we can come back to bed so I can really fuck you like you’re mine.”

“You’re on, Mr. Gray,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you from the bed and carries you toward the bathroom. 

His, you muse. You could get used to this.

reblogging later with tags. wanna be tagged in this fic? click the link above! (do not send me an ask! click the link!)

[medeafive]

Blood and Stone -02

Masterpost

"You're really lucky," Bruce confirms, staring into the microscope at her blood sample. "Looks like you don't have silver poisoning. Not for lack of trying, though."

Natasha sits up uncomfortably, rubbing the bandage over her left palm. "What would that even look like? In humans?"

"Argyria?" Bruce asks. "Skin turns blue or blue-grey. Either locally or generalized. Potentially toxic in high doses or at chronic exposure. Deposits usually in the skin, hence the color, in other organs, particularly the eyes. Can damage rods in the eye, impairing vision, particularly night vision, and can also impact organ functions. Most of all, never ever goes away."

Natasha shudders. "Sounds like it could be worse."

"It's doubtful the dose you took would have killed a vampire," Bruce adds sternly. "Even if he drank all the blood in your hand. People have experimented with that in the past, it only works very very rarely. So stop poisoning yourself."

Fury is staring at her with one eye. Oh great, he's gonna have words. "Promise," Natasha says. "Won't do it again."

"Hope so," Bruce repeats, cleaning out the petri dish. "Tell me if your hand does go blue in the sun. Other than that, you should rest for at least a week, you look like you got run over."

Plus going out into the night with a bleeding wound is suicide, no matter how well bandaged. And really, she just wants to sleep. But first, she'll have to face Fury, Fury standing there, arms crossed. She sighs, turning to face him, not trusting her legs enough to get up. "Come on. Just get it over with, I know I fucked up."

Bruce decides he maybe should not be here and excuses himself. Fury's face doesn't change, even when the door falls shut. She snorts inwardly, as if the silent treatment would work on her. But she's tired. "Just say it. I broke the rules."

"I don't appreciate you trying to sacrifice yourself," Fury states. "But I can't say I don't understand it."

Not the tone she expected. She breathes in deeply, against the protest of her rips. "That's not-"

"It is," Fury interrupts. "But that's never going to work. So sleep, and then we'll work out how we get this motherfucker together ."

She sighs again. Boy, her right shoulder still hurts from time to time, even though Bruce relocated it and put her on painkillers. "Do you think that's going to work, though? That we have a chance?"

"I don't know," Fury replies honestly. "But if there is, that's the only way."

  Strangely enough, nobody really asks her what the black cloak actually wanted. Then again, it's probably a bunch of lies anyway. Except that he honestly doesn't seem to plan on killing her or he really would have. Why would she trust anything he claims to want, though? She won't be played with.

While Fury mostly lets her off the hook, Clint is very pissed at her. The words reckless, crazy and suicidal fall. She holes herself up in her room, sleeps, only comes out at night to eat and generally pretends she's dead.

Her left hand grows an unhealthy ashen color, swelling up as well, especially around the cut, creeping up her forearm. So she does have some silver poisoning. She doesn't show Bruce, though, because she is so fucking tired. Sleeps most of the day. It calms down after a few days of rest, only leaving another scar in her palm.

"You're a pale motherfucker, Romanoff," Tony the tinker remarks, stuffing more grapes into his mouth with his greasy fingers. "Maybe I should point a UV beam at you?"

She snorts, opening the fridge. At least she doesn't have to look for her own food anymore, like when she was running around Saint Petersburg all alone. "I'll hack your precious fingers off. Where's the meat?"

"Meatpacking plant got attacked again," Tony clarifies. "No, seriously. Do you remember the sun? Incredibly bright, yellowish, gives you that weird warm feeling?"

"I do go out during the day," she insists, slamming the door of the fridge shut. At least some bacon… but no. "When I'm not recovering. Seriously, no meat at all?"

"None, Clint ate the last sausages," Tony states, slapping after a fly but missing. "You can take some of Sam's protein powder, he claims it's very healthy."

She rolls her eyes demonstratively, yanking the fridge open again, spotting some eggs at least. "Guess it's better than them going on a killing rampage in Vinohrady. Though I would die for a juicy burger."

"Don't flirt with me, Romanoff, we talked about this," Tony teases. "Bruce says it's more like a gateway drug. The animal blood, not the flirting. That too but he obviously didn't mention that."

She gives him a warning look, cracking the eggs into the pan. "What are you even doing? It's the middle of the night."

"Pepper's out tonight, testing her new armor," Tony replies. "Probably not coming back soon, though. Actually, I should go back to bed."

Natasha grins crudely. "Awww. Can't sleep, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, you heartless shell of a human," Tony returns. "Enjoy your stupid eggs."

  Her shoulder still slows her down. Jab. Block. Jab- too slow. His kick hits her, knocking her back. Fuck. Block. Dodge. Jab jab- ouch. He doesn't take it, probably because he knows he doesn't need it. Upstrike. Jab cross jab knee strike- it actually lands, though not very hard. Block. Dodge. Block. Punch- too slow. Block block block. Kick. Blocked. He catches her on her back foot so she stumbles back, block, dodge, lash out, tumble-

She grunts as she lands on her bandaged hand. Should get up before he pounces, not give him the chance to- fuck, she's so tired. She groans, dropping on her back. "Fine. I give up."

"Took you long enough," Sam remarks, unwrapping his hands. "You're a lot stronger than you look, though, I have to give you that."

She huffs, pulling her knees up. Breathe. "Not quite back at my best yet."

"Pretty close," Sam corrects, holding a hand out for her. "Wanna get up? I'm cooking dinner."

She waves him off. Not in the mood for that many people. "Thanks. Just gonna lie here."

"Mhm." He sits down next to her. "Is everyone mean to you, just because you disregarded every rule of safe conduct in the face of an unprecedented danger?"

"Fuck you and your psychology degree," she returns. "Just leave me alone."

"You're really no good at dealing with problems that you can't shoot in the face," Sam observes, getting back on his feet. "I haven't done my isha prayer yet, do you mind?"

She shakes her head, staying on the floor. She won't admit it but she actually enjoys listening to him pray. While she can no longer believe in God, it gives her some momentary comfort that he can. "I'll put some food aside for you later," he offers while getting his bowl and filling it with water. "Whenever you feel like eating."

She nods to herself, closing her eyes, then quiets her breath down enough so she can hear him recite Basmala and wash his hands.

  Clint also gives her the silent treatment, even after a week. She can live with that. Though she doesn't really want to. The streets are way more quiet at night now, but people are starting to doubt there's really a black cloak. If there was, it would have to somehow be worse, more murders, more blood in the streets than just the occasional execution of inept vampire fledglings. If the hammer doesn't come down, no matter how loud it cuts through the air, one starts wondering whether it's really there.

They're patrolling the riverside today, up from Vyšehrad towards the National Theatre, staring occasionally across the Vltava. The castle's lit brightly, tauntingly. As if they're holding a crooked dance of the dead. Clint draws his bow, just for the hell of it, because a patrol is always an incredibly tense and taut affair. He's right, the bow's incredibly quiet. The vampire the silver arrow hits won't be, though. Slowly releases. Natasha breathes out. "They're really high on their horses, aren't they."

Clint makes a non-committal noise, shrugging and turning away. Won't cut it. There's a car coming down from Karlovo Náměstí, loudly spluttering over the breaks in the asphalt. The roads have seen better days, too. Clint raises an eyebrow and puts in an arrow. Vampires don't drive, obviously, but they often follow cars waiting for the occupants to stop and climb out. Easy prey. The car's brakes screech as it prepares for the turn, the driver's face flashing yellow as it comes closer to the street light, eyes widening, and then he yanks the car to the left, speeding past and away from them, South. Maybe, if he drives far enough outside the city, he'll be safe. Clint snorts, lowering the bow. "Yeah, thanks."

As if they looked like vampires, with all the body armor and all the silver on their persons. Natasha shakes her head, internally grateful the silence is broken. "Forget about him. Let's check the roofs around, maybe the noise lured some out."

Clint nods, shuffling across the now again empty street. They know the area very well, since it's the closest thing they have to a frontline, the hunting parties from the castle crossing the river to find prey. "You wanna stay on the ground?"

"No, coming with you," Natasha replies quickly, following him through a backyard. She promised not to run around alone after all, and she doesn't feel like suffering the silence alone either. There's music playing somewhere inside, soft and jazzy, somewhere in the warm light behind the curtains. Clint throws a grappling hook up a balcony, grabbing onto her wordlessly, and then they're already pulled up into the night sky, climbing and crawling up onto the roof.

The noise is different up here, less people, more wind. There's some traffic, somewhere, constant humming in the background. Cars these days are fairly safe. Getting out is the hard part. There's light in some windows, those that aren't behind wooden shutters. The river glitters with the moonlight. Clint settles on the top of the roof, surveying the area. She crawls up as well, pushing some loose strands of hair behind her ears. The shadows are quiet, for now.

"I'm sorry if I worried you," she says. "That was not my intention."

Clint bites his lip. It's clear he doesn't want to talk. Well, so would she, but here they are. "Fury didn't even care, did he?"

"Because he didn't rip my head off?" Natasha questions.

"You could've died ," Clint repeats. "Damn close. You shouldn't even have gone out. He didn't seem overly concerned, to say the least."

"Guess he lost a few too many," Natasha replies. "This job… it helps not to get too attached."

"That's not what you deserve," Clint states.

Someone opens a window, a middle-aged woman, pulling out a cigarette. When she sees their silhouettes on the roof, she slams and bolts the window again.

"It's after 1am, isn't it?" Natasha asks. "They're getting careless again."

Clint huffs. "Aren't we all. See that down there?"

Natasha leans over the edge to see better. "Think that's just a bag of trash. After all, been a long time since we last saw a homeless person."

"You never saw that, did you," Clint remarks. "Wasn't great seeing them, but not seeing them anymore is worse."

Natasha huffs. "Plenty of homeless people in Moscow. And Petersburg. The very first ones they got, when no one cared yet."

"Got something of a divine punishment, doesn't it," Clint states. "Turning those we neglected against us."

"Man is wolf to man, right," Natasha agrees. A light turns on somewhere and there's faint arguing carried over by the wind. She remembers women locked out of their apartments by abusive partners after sundown, kids thrown out by their parents, the threat of being left outside in the dark hanging over everything. Since the police stopped patrolling at night, everything falls into nothing. Anarchy. At the mercy of whoever's stronger, more brutal.

Clint gets up carefully, watching every step. "Let's cross to the other side."

They climb South, over the roofs. What they don't tell you is that most of the time, nothing happens, nothing at all. Just sitting around, paying constant attention and definitely not falling asleep because that gets you killed. Also why you don't go out alone. It's 90% boring as hell and 10% deadly.

There's hardly any movement on this side either. Another stray feline beast. Rats, almost bigger than the cat. Many of the windows are just empty, dead. The city lost a hundred thousand to the vampires and another three hundred thousand to the safer seeming countryside, not counting the other side of the river. Everything has changed so much. It's like a war, right here, only fought at night. A bloody war.

The silence is more comfortable now. Clouds move quickly, with the wind, and the moonlight soon drowns in them. "I don't know if someone told you," Clint remarks quietly. "But I wasn't particularly pleased when you came here to join us."

Natasha smiles to herself. "I know."

"You didn't seem like a teamplayer, to put it mildly," Clint justifies. "And you're still holding back, but you know the ropes now."

Does she, now? "Is that why you were so pissed I went out alone?"

Clint laughs, bellowing. "Turns out you don't actually think you can solve every problem on your own. Just that you have to."

"Not true," she returns, pushing against his shoulder, carefully, and then they settle into an amicable silence.

After about half an hour, the armor becomes uncomfortable to sit in. It's not a cold night but moisture has still settled on the roof so that she's extra careful getting up. Clint stretches his arms. She slips slightly, grabbing onto the edge of an alcove to steady herself, only slowly straightening again.

"Tasha!"

She whips around, just in time to see a black silhouette diving towards her, it crashes into her like a wall, knocking her far off the roof, she grabs on automatically, twisting, window straight ahead, rolls up to prepare for-

Just as she slams into the glass pane, her side , she's pulled back and suddenly, they're diving down another street, cool night air cutting tears into her eyes, oh shit, house, house, stone, closer, closer, closer-

They ricochet off almost noiselessly, up again, towards whichever fucking floor that is, another street, another house, another window, house, stone, glass glass glass-

Whatever she's knocked into doesn't break but she hears the glass, barely has time to roll in on herself, then they crash, stopped, all the speed turning into impact , some crack , and boy, her spine.

She's thrown around once again but then it stops, only her insides swim, her sight, sick, sick, can't hear properly, her vision swims red, groans, the glass beneath her crunches but the armor, thank Tony, up, down, up, up, up, she presses her eyes shut and her gloved hands down, her back hurts , right side, shoulder, no time, she fights herself up to seated. The black cloak stands by an intact window, up, they're high up, staring out, boy, she's ready to throw up. "Are you batshit crazy ?!"

He doesn't reply obviously, that fucking asshole, intently focused outside. She tries to breathe again, despite her ribcage and the pressure of her armor. "We should be good," he states, not paying her any mind. "He's going the other- ouch. "

She reaches for her gun while he plucks the silver throwing star out of his thigh, only to find the belt must have ripped, cut by one window or the other, gone, and then he's already turned back to her and she missed her chance. "For the last fucking time, could you stop throwing things at me?"

"Are you insane ?!" she screams at him. "The fuck are you doing?"

He rolls his white eyes, throwing star dropping to the ground carelessly. He's bleeding but not much, as far as she can tell. Dammit. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" she repeats. " Calm down ?"

"Try not to cut yourself," he advises. "I'm sorry I hurt you last time, I'm not going to do it again."

This guy is un-fucking-real. Off-the-chart annoying. Another wave of sickness overcomes her. "Maybe don't knock me through a window next time? Two. Two windows."

"You didn't go through the first one," he returns. "And I took the second one for you, you're welcome. Not my fault you're so hard to grab for a talk."

"Oh, now it's my fault?" she questions. "A fucking talk ?"

"Yes." He strides over. "Have you decided?"

"Whether I would rather be turned into a monster," she clarifies. "Or see all of my friends die."

"Yes," he confirms calmly, squatting down to her height. "It's not going to become any easier."

"I was being sarcastic," she remarks. "How about I get rid of you instead?"

He smirks, fang peaking out, and dangling something from his hand. Her belt. With the guns. Motherfucker. "Don't think so, sweetheart."

She calculates mentally whether there's any chance she could snatch that- not without a good distraction. But she can't think of anything other than cutting herself, and she's not ready for that. "I could always bite the bullet myself."

He chuckles, and it sounds frighteningly human . "No, you wouldn't."

"You don't know anything about me," she bites back.

"I know more than you think," he replies, straightening and backing away, taking the belt with him. The throwing star is by the window, too far, can't reach. Is there anything else… "I know why you left Russia."

She freezes, very cold all of a sudden. No. No. Nononononono- "I know what you did there," he adds. "Really, you're not better than anyone."

She jumps to her feet, crunching glass. Don't engage. Don't feed the flames. "Give me my guns. Or I'll cut myself."

He seems exasperated. "You couldn't goad me into a blood frenzy if you cut an artery."

Bluffing. "Guns," she repeats, holding out a hand.

"I could still murder your friends," he points out coldly. "Starting with the one with the arrows."

Her hand drops. Her head's still spinning. Shouldn't poker too high. She feels very lost all of a sudden. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeats for the umpteenth time. "Or any of your friends, if I don't have to. Just agree already."

"I don't give a fuck about your empty lies," she spits.

"Well, I do," he replies. "You know, you remind me of myself. Before."

"Before you turned into a fucking monster," she specifies. "Before you started hunting humans for blood."

He looks slightly disgusted. "I hardly ever feed on humans."

"Oh great," she cuts him off. "Then you're hardly ever a murderer."

Surprisingly, he throws her one of her guns. She's too slow to catch. "This look innocent to you? But I forget, you're obviously something better ."

There's a trap somewhere. She can't just shoot him- "I'll take you to Žižkov," he announces. "Satisfy your own bloody urges. Then you can think about whether you're really all that different."

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 014 [Social Interaction? Effort.]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,680 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“All I want is a place to call my own. To mend the hearts of everyone who feels alone. You know to keep your hopes up high and your head down low.” A Day to Remember, “All I Want”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

I groaned, forcing my eyes open. My hand shot out, feeling around for my annoying ass phone. I had three unread messages. The first was, surprisingly, from Aizawa.

✉ ‘Careful on your way to school.’

Weird, but okay. The next was from Toshi.

✉ ‘The school entrance has been swarmed by reporters. Ignore them, please.’

Reporters? Is that a normal thing for U.A.? The last message was from Murder.

‘Ur face sux’

My eye twitched as my fingers flew across the keyboard. ‘Uve never even seen my face fool’ I stood up, throwing my phone onto the couch before getting ready for school. After grabbing a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the fridge and scarfing down a bowl of cereal, I grabbed my phone again and slipped my sneakers on. A message was waiting for me.

‘Doesnt matter ur face still sux’

I rolled my eyes, ‘Ur an idiot‘

As I got closer to U.A., I heard the chaos before I saw it. The entrance was swarmed by at least two dozen people, some holding microphones, others holding large cameras on their shoulders. They were screaming at the students as they tried to enter the school, blocking their path. Talk about being a hindrance.

“Strange. I’ve never heard of such a thing happening in the past.”

I glanced over at Fumi as he stopped beside me, arms crossed firmly over his chest. “So this ain’t a normal thing, then?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though, if I were to make a guess, I’d say this has to do with All Might being a teacher.”

“You think so?” I scratched my cheek, watching as a female reporter roughly grabbed a student’s shoulder when he ignored her. “He’s the top hero, huh? So heroes are practically celebrities that people go nuts for here… how fucking annoying.”

He tilted his head, looking at me curiously. Right, he doesn’t know anything about me not being from here.

I cleared my throat. “Should we get it over with? Don’t wanna be late… again.”

He nodded, “Yes, they will only become more aggressive over time.”

The fucking vultures spotted us before we even got close, shoving microphones into our faces and screaming over one another to be heard. The only thing I could clearly make out was the name ‘All Might’. Fumi didn’t even spare them a glanced as he headed for the gate, but a woman grabbed his arm and shoved a microphone in his face, demanding an answer.

I felt a surge of annoyance and I grabbed her wrist, my hand turning red as I increased the temperature until she let go of him. “Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself, bitch. The fuck is wrong with you, grabbing a kid like that. Grow the fuck up and get a real job!”

She cried out in pain and frustration and I released her hand. Muttering profanities under my breath, I put my arm through Fumi’s and tugged him past the archway.

“Thank you,” Fumi spoke softly, his feathery cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

I didn’t even know it was possible for him to blush but this world keeps fucking surprising me, don’t it? “Don’t worry about it,”

“If you won’t bring All Might out, I’ll get him myself!”

I glanced over my shoulder as a loud buzzing filled the morning air. Sheets of metal shot out of the ground, blocking the entry and towering above the stone walls that surrounded the school. The woman screamed in surprise and I scoffed. “That’s what you get, invasive bitch.”

Fumi sighed, placing his hand over his beak. “Your vocabulary is quite vulgar, Jen-san.”

I grinned at him. “Pretty sure I was a fucking sailor in my past life.”

A breeze blew past us, ruffling my hair. A shiver went down my spine, but I didn’t feel cold. I felt… exposed, in danger. What is this strange sense of dread that I’m suddenly feeling? Why do I have the urge to run? I suppressed another shiver, glancing back at the metal sheeting.

“Is something wrong, Jen-san?”

I snapped out of my daze, giving Fumi a forced smile as I followed him into the school building. That feeling lingered in the back of my mind, like someone breathing down my neck.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Decent work on yesterday’s combat training, you guys.” Aizawa stood at the front, his eyes sweeping the room. “I saw the video feeds and went over each of your team’s results. Bakugo – you’re talented, so don’t sulk like a child about your loss, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Pft, that bitch is totally sulking. I glanced around Big Boobs, but I could only see the back of his head since he was sitting in the same row. Truth be told, I had been a bit worried about him, but he seems to be in better spirits. His aura ain’t as dark as it was, anyway. I wonder what Midoriya said to him yesterday.

“And Midoriya – I see the only way you won the match was by messing up your arm again. Work harder! And don’t give me the excuse that you don’t have control over your quirk. That line’s already getting old. You can’t keep breaking your body while training here.” His voice softened. “But your quirk will be really useful if you can get a handle on it. So show a little urgency, huh?”

“Right!”

I snickered at his caring tone and his eyes snapped to mind. Shit, is he gonna call me out, too? I didn’t do that bad, did I? I slowly moved my body back behind Big Boobs, slumping over the desk so he couldn’t see me. I still haven’t apologized for the other day, either. Damn, I should really have a talk with him and Toshi, but effort. Emotional effort, too.

“Let’s get down to business,”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Your first task will decide your future.”

The classroom grew tense at his words, but I had the distinct feeling that he was trolling everyone again.

“You all need to pick a class representative.”

He said that so seriously, what the fuck. Still, the classroom started to erupt, overflowing with excitement and energy. I hate it.

“Pick me, guys! I wanna be class representative!” Do you even know what this job takes, Red?

“I’ll take it!” Sparky is definitely not smart enough for this.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need me.” Somehow I doubt that, Punk Rock.

“Someone with style should be -”

“Ooh! I’m totally the right pick!”

I guaran-fucking-tee you that Alien does that to French Fry on purpose. She’s going for the record of how many times she can interrupt him in three years. Or she just hates his guts, which I can understand.

Everyone’s voices started to overlap and I slammed my forehead onto the desk. What the fuck is wrong with these idiots, seriously? Don’t they realize how much work and responsibility that role entails? No fucking thank you. Oh, great taco god, even Bakugo wants the job. Depending on who gets the role, my school life could become hell. I’ve seen plenty of school anime to know that class reps and the student council give students hell.

“Silence, everyone! Please!” Prep shot up, his voice booming over the others. “The class representative’s duty is to lead others! It’s not something just anyone can do.” Especially not most of these dipshits. “You must first have the trust of every student in the classroom. Therefore, the most logical way to fill this position is democratically. We will hold an election to choose our leader!”

That’s a great idea and all, but… that hand of yours is raised higher than anyone else’s. It’s pretty obvious he wants the job.

“Is this really the best idea?”

“We’ve only known each other a few days, how do we know who we can trust?”

That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? It’s not like the class rep is gonna be trying to bring nations together or some shit.

“‘Sides, everyone will just vote for themselves.”

“Most people will, but that means whoever does receive multiple votes must truly be the most suitable person for the job. It’s the best way! Right, sir?”

Aizawa had slipped back into his sleeping bag at this point, looking bored out of his mind. “Do what you want. Just decide before my nap’s over.” And with that, he fell to the ground, hidden behind the long lectern.

I sweatdropped. For someone that can show so much care for his students, he certainly loves to act like he hates his job. I wonder… is Zawa part tsundere? Is that even a thing? It’s gotta be.

“Thank you for your trust!” Prep turned to the class, pushing up his glasses. “Everyone, please write your vote on a piece of paper and fold it!”

With a sigh, I dug through my bag for my notebook and a pen. So far, it had only been used to draw cute tacos and the sacred taco bra. I swear, I’m gonna take this fucking grudge to the grave and then come back to haunt that bitch. I tapped my pen on the paper, scanning the room.

I don’t really have a relationship with any of these people. I had that one awkward moment with Bakugo; Ochako introduced herself to me; I helped Midoriya to Granny, but he probably don’t even know about that; Peppermint likes to glare at me for no reason, but he has a really nice voice; Then there’s Fumi.

I glanced over at him, watching his pencil scratch across his paper. Did he even want this job? He hadn’t said anything about it, and he doesn’t seem to be especially social or extroverted. He’s the closest thing I got to a friend here, though.

Damn, I’m really shit at interacting with people. Now that I’m thinking about it, the only people I ever interacted with during school was Travis, and even that was limited to a few times a month, and then there’s Skye and Heather, but something tells me those two are invalid. And twats. They’re definitely twats.

Maybe I should make more of an effort to get to know these people, but that sounds like a serious pain in the ass. Most of these people annoy me, anyway, and the only one that’s made an effort with me is Ochako and Punk Rock, but I blew her off.

“I will collect the votes now!”

Well, shit. I stared at the blank piece of paper and hummed thoughtfully. Oh… a grin split my lips as an idea popped into my head. I quickly scribbled down the name and balled the paper up, tossing it at Prep as he walked by. After collecting them all, he headed to the front of the room and started to calculate the results, writing names and numbers on the board. There were a lot of single votes. Guess people really did vote for themselves. Losers~

“Who voted for Aizawa-sensei?!”

“Pffft,” I bit my lip hard to stop from laughing, but his offended tone really fucking got me, man. Big Boobs and Peppermint turned to look at me, one with a weird expression, the other glaring in annoyance.

Prep slammed his hand on the lectern repeatedly. “This is an important decision, please take this seriously, Winchester!”

“Che. It ain’t that serious, fam, take a chill pill.” I huffed, leaning back in my chair. “One vote ain’t gonna make a difference.”

“Every vote matters!”

“For fuck’s sake, fine.” I scratched my cheek, glancing at the students as they looked back at me, some snickering. “I vote for Fumi,”

“Fumikage Tokoyami,” Prep nodded in satisfaction, turning to the board to add the vote. I caught Fumi’s eye and he smiled, sending me a nod.

Thankfully, I got zero votes.

Midoriya was in the lead with three votes, while Big Boobs, Momo Yaoyorozu, got two. Man, that name is hard for me to say, I hate it.

“How did I get three votes?!”

“Okay, you idiots!” Bakugo shot up from his seat, angrily slamming his hands on the surface of the desk. “Who voted for ’em?!”

“What, did you honestly think anyone was gonna vote for you?”

I mean, I thought about it doing it just for shits and giggles, but the risk that he would win, no matter how low, prevented me from doing so. Imagining that loud ass as the class rep makes my head hurt.

“What did you just say?!”

Prep sat down at his desk, his body shaking. “Zero votes… I feared this might happen, but I can’t argue with the system I chose!”

“So you voted for someone else, huh?” Yaoy… what was it again? I squinted at the board, eyes narrowed at her last name. Fuck it! I’m calling her Momo whether she likes it or not.

“But you know it was best to vote for yourself, right?” Sumo asked. “What were you trying to prove here, Iida?”

Iida, huh? I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands behind my head. I don’t know, I like the name ‘Prep’ better, honestly.

Midoriya stood up, his whole body shaking like a leaf as he headed to the front of the room, Momo standing beside him.

“Alright, the class rep is Midoriya. And our deputy is Yaoyorozu.”

“R-Really? It’s not a mistake?” Midoriya squeaked in disbelief. He’s such a timid little shit. How did someone with such little self-confidence become All Might’s successor? Makes no sense to me.

“This might not be so bad!”

“Yeah, I can get behind Midoriya, I guess.”

“Yaoyorozu was totally on top of it when it came to our training results.”

I glanced out the window at the azure sky, tuning out the class. That sense of dread is getting stronger and it’s making my fucking stomach turn. I guess I can add fucking paranoia to my list of issues.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Lunch arrived and students poured out of their classrooms toward the cafeteria. I hung back, not wanting to get stuck in the crowd of hungry teenagers.

“Hey, Winchester!”

I paused, glancing behind me. “Oh. Hey Rin.”

He gave me a bright smile when he finally caught up and we started down the hall. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to say hi. I’m glad you passed the exam!”

I grunted, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I only passed because of you,”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you were there,” I muttered with a shrug, looking away from him. “I just wanted to test my power, I completely forgot about the exam and about getting points. I only got in because they thought I saved you.”

He nudged my arm, smiling when I looked at him. “Whether you knew I was there or not, you did save me, but that’s not important. We both got in, right?”

“Guess you got a point. Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

He nodded. “You’re in 1-A, right?”

“Yeah, what about you?”

“1-B and guess who’s in my class~”

My brow furrowed as I thought back to the exam. “Uhh… wait, not that blonde idiot.”

“Yup! His name is Neito Monoma and he’s certainly an interesting character.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but a loud yell from in front of us stopped me. “Get the fuck outta my way, Deku!”

“You guys got the arrogant prick, Monoma. We got the loud chihuahua, Bakugo.” I commented, sending him a blank look.

Rin chuckled as he watched the blonde stomping away from Midoriya. “I think we’re a bit better off. But only a little bit.”

“Probably are. My class is fucking nuts.”

“Sounds fun,” He paused for a moment, tilting his head. “Do you mind if I join you for lunch today?”

“Hmm, sure.” I usually just sit at the end of the table, listening to my classmates ramble on and argue about stupid shit. Wait… if he sits with me that means I have to put in the effort to try and carry on a conversation with him.

Fuck my life.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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Threat Level: Pizza || Ricky and Winston

Honestly, Winston was tired. In the last week, between them, Ricky and Dee they had spotted and dealt with four alghouls and what Ricky referred to as a spawn. Then last night a pack of three spawn had attacked the house and Winston and Ricky had been forced to deal with them. Winston was pretty proud of the fact that they had managed to immolate one. That had been a feeling like no other. Yet as they stood with a broom in hand, brushing vampire dust off of their porch, Winston couldn’t help but feel like it was time to make a change. Two attacks on their home in as many months wasn’t their idea of fun. Turning to Ricky, who was fixing a window before moving onto the porch railing that had been shattered during the commotion, Winston sighed. “I think that it is time that you and me start thinking about installing some security, and I’m not just talking about the mundane type of security. I think that we need to consider the fact that it might be time to have something other then a kitchen knife available when the next grizzly beasty comes after us.” 

Pausing from his repair work to pick alghoul out of his fangs Ricky nodded emphatically. “I mean. Setting aside the fact that the last time the last time that you and I were involved in some magic together we ended up in a strange prison demiplane inspired by my woodwork and fueled by your magic…. I agree. This is becoming fucking exhausting.” The unending night had made some things that were only comfortable at night far more brazen than they normally were, and a whole subset of those things viewed Ricky as a particularly choice piece of steak, and the house constantly being under siege was wearing on him super fast, “So… I am open to suggestions. As far as super fun magic home defense systems go. All I want you to keep in mind… is that I am very very open to the idea of flame turrets. Very very very open to that idea.” He leaned against the frame of the window and looked out at Winston on the porch, “But, practically, how does it work?” 

“Yeah, I’m not necessarily talking the same sort of magic. I don’t want to get stuck in a pocket dimension that is also a puzzle box.” Winston wasn’t sure what they were thinking, but if they could centralise a number of security features to a central console, then Winston wondered whether including spells into their code as data flags would cause any change in the potential effects. “I don’t want to mess around with magic just yet, for now though we should think about making some supernaturally minded upgrades.” They paused as they considered a few options. “Well first of all we could look into installing motion sensors in the grounds around our house and Dee’s these could activate UV bulbs as security lights, that should at least give any vampires a little bit of trouble.” They considered other options. “Maybe something with salt and iron for ghosts …” they were still so new to this, they weren’t entirely sure what else they could include. “If it isn’t too expensive we should consider getting CCTV, maybe I can work out some enchantment that allows us to see things approaching. Infrared or heat sensitive cameras or something…” they paused and pulled their glasses off, rubbing the end of an arm against their scalp thoughtfully. “Any eureka moments?” 

“Oh come on didn’t you enjoy our little demiplanar excursion into the realm of ‘oh god I hope we’re not dead?’” Ricky paused his repair work and joined Winston out on the porch, sitting down with his back against the warm wood of the porch, “Well… You’re already talking outside my scope of knowledge, but I think you’re right, we don’t really need to be focusing on the human threats, it’s the supernatural ones we need to be worried about.” He pulled out his phone and started to type out notes as Winston was talking. He was more of a old-school kind of guy; the security enhancements that his roommate was talking about were way out of his scope of knowledge, “Are ghosts really a problem though? I think it’s the physical things we have to worry about more. As for CCTV that shit isn’t too expensive anymore with like Ring and Blink and all that shit you can just control it from your phone. And I do mean you I’m sure I’d break it if I tried to control it.” He kept typing as Winston talked before looking up with a raised eyebrow, “if you’re expecting me to have a eureka moment about technology you are in for a dismal disappointment. You’re gonna have to take point on this and I’ll help out however I can. But if you think you can work enchantments into it I’m absolutely down.” 

“No, for some reason I did not enjoy having to endure a minor existential crisis as to whether or not I have died, although I will admit that it is nice to know for certain that I am indeed relatively alive and well.” Winston shrugged before continuing. “No, I think that Dee and her shotgun are more then enough to deal with the potential human criminals, but if we draw the attention of something like Hunters or Vampires or I don’t know, something along those lines then I think that I would want to have something else. I also think we should think about setting up a communication tree with others.” Winston nodded. “I know that it sounds ridiculous, but the one exorcism I saw, back in the library at UMWC was terrifying and I don’t really want to experience it again if I can help it. But I need to really work out how well these cameras will work against fast moving and potentially magic critters.” Chewing on their lip, Winston shrugged. “Maybe you can help me by telling me how feasible it’ll be to set up stuff and we can begin working on sourcing all the things I’ll need to set this up. I can do the techy stuff and you can help me with the actual skilled labour.” 

“Well I had a delightful time so your negative experience is on you. I enjoyed our one on one time inside a magical prison. I think we could market the whole experience to white people with too much money and too much time on their hands. Throw in some bullshit about it being meditative and shit. We could be super rich.” Ricky couldn’t help but laugh at Winston’s mention of their land lady, “Yeah I know one day I’m gonna have to have the “hey you probably shouldn’t have a loaded shotgun in the house anymore” talk with her but we’re a ways off from that and she’s a crack shot with it.” he kept typing away, looking up periodically at Winston as they talked, “Well we’ll add ghosts to the list of things to keep out. I mean I don’t think I can tell you how feasible it all is until we get an actual plan in place but it shouldn’t be too bad. Don’t think it’ll require any actual like renovations to the house, unless you’ve got a plan for a garlic filled moat you havne’t told me about yet.” He dashed inside to grab a pad of paper and came out again, starting to scribble down some ideas, “Wanna order delivery and hash this out?”

“You’re also completely barking mad if you thought that our time in a magical prison was anything like fun,” Winston laughed and shook their head at Ricky, “I think that you could market that shit to normal White Crest people and they would still eat it up. But I don’t think I want to get super rich based on whether or not people are going to make it out of a trick prison.” They paused for a moment and slipped down onto a bench on the porch overlooking their property. “Well make sure that I am nowhere near you or her when you have that conversation.” They raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes, that sounds like a great idea, and I can use your sketching skills to try and visualise where we are going to put this shit and how it is going to work. We’re going to need shit loads of rock salt, iron fillings, holy water, maybe even silver. Stakes wouldn’t be a bad idea either. I also need pizza and probably some beer too.”

“What can I say, I like puzzles and I’m good at compartmentalizing my feelings. So. I made it fun.” He pulled out his phone and started thumbing through apps, “is that not exactly what an escape room is? Ours would just be a magical escape room where you’re not sure if you’re dead or not! It’s an extra perk; existential crisis added on for free.” Ricky brought up Grubhub with one hand while the other kept scribbling the supplies Winston was listing off, “Meat lovers no cheese extra anchovies for me, what do you want? I’ve got beer in the fridge, I made a supply run when the darkness hit because I didn’t want to leave the house if possible. I’m a vamp magnet.” He started a very basic sketch of an aerial view of the house and the property that surrounded it, “Are we going to have auto turrets for the stakes? I think that’d be noticeable. We should try to be as discreet as possible. Don’t want to draw attention, just protect ourselves.” 

“That sounds like something that a crazy person might say, I think you’re just an adrenaline junkie who likes to put their life in danger because it gets their heart racing.” Winston raised an eyebrow and shrugged gently. “I don’t know if anyone is going to play for a healthy dose of Nihilism Ricky, and also in escape rooms you can usually guarantee the safety of your customers and I’m not convinced that I could.” Winston swallowed gently and decided that they wouldn’t try and recreate the mistake they previously had. No they had other plans, a type of magic that they had yet to find any information on. It made them wonder what could be achieved if they tried some new stuff. But now wasn’t exactly the time for them to do that. Now they had other things to focus on. “Can I get a meatlovers with extra cheese and extra mushrooms?” Winston replied. “I can leave the house if needs be, plus I’m sure that people can drop stuff off to us if you don’t want to risk it.” They were honestly a bit shocked at Ricky’s suggestion of auto turrets. “Dude, this isn’t Doom Eternal, we’re not installing auto turrets mainly because I don’t know how to build auto turrets. NoI think it would be better if we can go with high powered UV lamps and a few well placed stakes around the house. At least until I get better at this stuff, I’m a computer programmer not an engineer.” 

“At absolutely no point in our cohabitation have I ever fucking told you I was a sane person. No false advertising here. That’s just because you haven’t figured out the right marketing spin for it yet. You can market Nihilism to anyone you just gotta put a pretty enough bow on it. But, we’re getting away from the main topic here.” Ricky tapped the orders into his phone, adding on a couple of 2-liters just so they’d have something in the fridge where they didn’t have to leave the house for supplies. “I’d rather you not take any unnecessary journeys since, you know, once again it’s fucking nightmareville up in this place. But if worse comes to worse we’ll make a group run for it.” He laughed at the reference, shaking a fist in the air, “Rip and tear, until it is done!!! You know it may be eternal night right now but it really makes for some amazing ambiance when I’m playing that game.” Ricky nodded and started a shopping list on the side of the paper titled “Death-based Doodads”, “Stakes and UV lamps it is. Though too many UV lamps and people are going to think we’ve got a grow operation here.” 

“My apologies for not considering your sanity as something that could be in question, most people usually don’t expect other people’s sanity to be in question. As for marketing existential crisises and nihilism then that is something that I will leave for you.” Winston replied with a small grin decorating their face. Winston was glad that they weren’t going to have to cook for themselves. They were feeling incredibly lazy after fighting for their night in the middle of the day, even though it was dark. “Don’t worry, I don’t really want to risk facing alghouls and vampires if I can help it, especially not when I know better. I’m not going out as much as I possibly can, I’m just trying to stay home and when I do go out I am making sure that I’m not alone.” Winston shrugged and smirked. “You know, it is not Overwatch, but it is still a lot of fun to kick the shit out of demons, even if I can’t do it in real life.” Winston frowned and nodded. “You’re right, we’ll have to be sensible about where we plant our weed crop, don’t want people to catch us doing anything illegal.” They were being sarcastic, somehow they thought that they would manage to get away with it. They worked for the Police Department after all.

“I really feel like you should have seen that coming though. Marketing existential crises and nihilism are definitely something we could get away with with Gen Z I’m sure of it. Just make the marketing laden with memes and we’ll be all set.” Ricky slid his phone back into his pocket after receiving the text notification that their order had been confirmed, “See. That’s some solid planning right there. In the end it’s gonna be the goddamn buddy system that saves us all.” Rolling his eyes he pushed himself to his feet and wandered back into the house, spreading the papers out on the dining room table so they’d have more room to work, “Yeah yeah yeah you and overwatch. That’s way too much for me to try to wrap my head around. I’ll stick to chopping demons apart with a chainsaw and a variety of super fun weapons. That’s more my speed. Mindless platforming, puzzles, and mayhem.” He laughed as he drew a stool over to sit on, looking down at their plans, “We’ll add a grow operation after we figure out how to protect our home from the supernatural. Even if regular weed doesn’t really affect me much. It’d be a good money maker anyway. But for now we’ll use the UV lamps to attempt to vaporize some vampires.” 

“If we marketed using memes we could, but then that would cut out an entire demographic of baby boomers and the older millennials that wouldn’t get it, so you know, you win some you lose some.” Winston shrugged gently and settled in their seat, looking around them trying to decide what else they could include. “Is stuff like wolfsbane a thing?” Winston asked trying to think of the most generic supernatural stereotypes that they could implement here. “Obviously it is going to take a bit of time before I can really get any of this stuff working, but better to start now rather then later.” Winston was terrified of what some of the things that were out there could do to them and their friends. “Everyone has different preferences and enjoyments, it’s not my fault that your tastes are so far separated from mine which are obviously far superior.” Laughing, Winston shook their head and smiled. “Bro, you remember that I work for the police department. They’re not huge fans of illegal grows that aren’t regulate by the tax man.” 

“Listen. Boomers had their time to shine. They don’t deserve targeted marketing anymore. They can take or leave whatever we give them.” Chewing on his pen for a moment, Ricky pondered for a moment, “I honestly don’t know. You’d have to ask Morgan. Seems like she’d know more about that sorta herbology shit than me. I know there is a whole subset of supernatural related herbs. But I’m right there with you; this will definitely take some time so we might as well get going. Because knowing this town… this darkness could last for quite a goddamn while.” The doorbell rang and Ricky went to retrieve their pizzas, heavily tipping the put-upon looking driver to make up for the extra anchovy stench undoubtedly filling his car, “Grub’s here. And my taste in video games is impeccable. I’m sorry I’m not into games with a gay cowboy, weird angst cyborg asian stereotypes, and people screaming in the headset about their skill rating. Gimme that sweet sweet ‘don’t talk to other people’ gaming.” He set the pizza down on the counter and got them out a couple plates, “Oh I didn’t forget. But I like to think I’m above certain aspects of the law given the great ease with which I can implement plan ‘just hide in the fucking ocean forever’. Which is a solid ass plan.” 

“It doesn’t matter what they do or don’t deserve, proportionally speaking they hold far more wealth then Gen Z or even a good proportion of the millennial population, targeted marketing takes that wealth away from them.” Winston scratched at the thin film of stubble that had sprung up over their jaw. “I’ll put some feelers out and try and find out what else we could to do to really sure up the defenses here, if I was better at magic then I could enchant some more shit but after the last time that went I’m a little bit weary of trying anything big without more practice.” Winston sincerely hoped that whatever it was that was causing this darkness would get resolved soon, but they weren’t about to charge into the darkness and try and change any of it. Not yet anyway. They weren’t that desperate yet. “I love the inherently racist stereotypes that Blizzard brings to me, and if you keep talking McShit about McCree then I’ll cut you.” They grinned and grabbed their pizza from Ricky, slipping down onto the sofa and laughing as Ricky continued their tirade against multiplayer gaming. The irony was that of course in real life they were the exact opposite. Winston was the introvert and Ricky the extrovert that adopted them. “Unfortunately I cannot hide in the ocean forever because I am not an aquatic animal, but you go off.” 

“This took a weirdly capitalist-centric turn; but, I’ll keep all this in mind when I’m planning out how to launch our magical escape room empire. Which is going to have a terrible pun of a name but I haven’t decided what it’s going to be yet.” Nodding along with Winston’s train of thought Ricky opened his pizza box and put a couple of slices on a plate, “I’ll do the same. So we’ll see who knows what and we’ll protect this bitch.” A thought crossed his mind as he chewed on his first piece of pizza, “They’ll have to be disableable though. Things to keep werewolves and vampires and ghosts out. I’m… well Remmy and I… are trying to put together an interspecies clan. To at least offer some sort of unified protection against the hunters. It’s harder to pick us all off if the various species have each others’ backs.” It was hard to laugh and not spit a mouthful of various meats and fish all over his couch, but he managed, “They are really bad about racial stereotypes but you’re more than welcome to McTry. It’ll be super messy though, I’ve got extra blood.” He made quick work of the first piece of pizza and set to work on the second one as he kept sketching things out. “We should have some sort of motion detector at the end of the drive, connected to some kind of camera.” 

“I never knew that I would be starting an escape room empire, but I guess if I was going to do it with anyone then I would want to do it with you.” Winston smiled gently as they placed a piece of pizza in their mouth and chewed on their pizza straight from the box. Winston nodded. “Of course, they’ll be disable-able and hopefully eventually I’ll be able to write something that is sophisticated enough that it will be able to distinguish between who needs the measures in place. But no offense, we’ve not seen any progress there for a while and I know that you want to help these people but we can’t do anything until we’ve made sure that we’re safe. Once we’re looked after then we can look after others, but not before that.” Winston was a realist and they knew that this wasn’t going to be resolved straight away, this was something that they would need to really work on. “Gross, who needs extra blood. Seal it away in my opinion.” They winked and wiped grease from their hands with a piece of tissue from the takeaway before nodding. “Motion detectors at the gates, not to mention in the grounds hooked up to security lights so if anything moves everything gets lit up.” 

“Tides… I would have never considered starting an escape room empire but you and I have some of the weirdest things happen to us, so, I think that that’s pretty on brand for us.” It was a truth; Ricky was realizing. He and Winston definitely had a relationship that seemed to be a magnetic force for strange situations, and he loved it. Life was infinitely better now that they lived together; it was definitely one of the better decisions Ricky had made at a party. “Ooooh I have some bad news for you. We’re never ever going to be totally safe. Welcome to the supernatural life. But, I take your point. We can’t form the Justice League until we lockdown the Fortress of Solitude. Did I mix references there? I don’t really care just roll with it.” Another slice of pizza disappeared into his mouth and he rolled his eyes at the pun, “Alright well for how terrible that was I’m just going to go offer myself to the vampire hordes now. Thanks. Your terrible pun has damned me.” Scribbling at the margins of his page he attempted to not get pizza grease on the plans, “I like that. Plus it makes us look real important.” 

Laughing, mouthful of pizza, Winston looked into the moon for a moment before shrugging. “I think it is pretty on brand, we always end up doing the weirdest shit.” They settled into the silence for a moment and shrugged. “Watch tower not fortress of solitude, though I guess both are DC so it doesn’t count as much? I don’t know. Anyway, you know Orion Quinn right?” Winston was considering their next words carefully, “I think that I’m going to offer him one of the rooms if that’s cool, it seems like he could use a place to go because he is currently staying in that Scribe building way too much for the amount of living that someone our age needs to do, obviously we don’t know him but I think he’s a good kid. Just be careful about your skin, I know you are careful, but Orion found Skye’s seal skin after that time we all watched anime together and I want to believe the best in him, but I’m not completely sure we can trust him, I guess we’ll just see, but he needs somewhere to go and I’m offering him this place.” That was one of the reasons that they wanted to sure up the security, to make sure that everything was safe. “I’ve got some more stuff I want to work on, but now we’ve got the basic designs down I can start shopping for the parts and we can look at introducing all of this stuff onto a central system.” 

“We have a weird fucking life. But. When you’ve got a seal and a mage living together what the hell do you expect. I love it. This is me living my best life.” He listened carefully as Winston laid out the situation that Rio found himself in and Ricky ended up frozen with a piece of pizza halfway to his mouth, “I’m sorry. He’s living at that creepy fucking abandoned building you found while you were sleepwalking?! Of course he can stay here what the fuck. That’s not even a question.” He took the bite that he’d been frozen about to take and rolled his eyes, “Winston. I’ve been successfully hiding my skin from people for almost a quarter of a century. Have you ever found my skin accidentally? I didn’t think so. I’ve got it nice and hidden so that’s not really an issue. But I appreciate you looking out for me.” He finished the piece of pizza and moved to another. “He’s more than welcome here. I like him. He’s a good dude. So he can absolutely stay with us. I’ll clear out one of the rooms upstairs for him. We do have the basic design down though. Start putting together a shopping list and keep track of costs and we’ll split it up.” 

“I don’t think that he is officially living there, he told me that he is living with his parents, but they sound … not great from the very little that he has actually told me about them.” Winston fiddled with their glasses. “Anyway, I feel like they use that place as a way out of the house but they don’t want their parents to find out and it would make sense for someone of their age to be moving out of the house, we’ve got the room and I knew that you would say no without hesitation.” They paused and shrugged. “I know you’ve got this dude, but you’re my rock and I definitely wouldn’t be able to do all of the stuff that I’ve got to do if I couldn’t rely on your safety.” Winston nodded. “Cool, well, I gotta admit that isn’t how I thought this would end, but I’m glad we agree. We can get started on this all tomorrow I think.” 

Ricky’s face immediately went pinched and narrow. As someone with his own latent parental issues, he had remarkably little patience for homes where parents mistreated their children. It was part of why Skylar’s defence of her abusive parents had rubbed him so much the wrong way, and why his tone took on a decidedly dull and stony timbre “well. Of course he’s always welcome here. For a couple of nights or for the foreseeable future. Whatever he needs; at least there’s an easy cover with the whole ‘oh yeah I’m just striking out on my own’ excuse. When you do bring it up to him, let him know that there’s no rent. I don’t pay Dee anything so he doesn’t have to pay me anything. Eventually he can chip in on the internet bill, but getting on his feet is more important.” His expression softened and he smiled, “If it makes you feel better… it’s not in the house. It’s hidden and locked away. He won’t find it by accident. You’re stuck with me for a good long while, don’t you fear.” Closing the pizza box before he ate the entire thing he nodded, “Good. We’ll start in the morning and turn this estate into an at least somewhat-secure fortress.” 

[mytholora]

do you hear my heart beating

Fandom: Mamamoo

Rated: T

Pairings: Moonsun

Characters: Solar, Moonbyul, Wheein, Hwasa

Summary: Yongsun knows she’s an idiot but she’d thought herself to be an idiot with good ideas.

Yongsun knows she’s an idiot but she’d thought herself to be an idiot with good ideas.

They’re in a seedy club at some inhumane hour of the morning. Byulyi has somehow managed to convince her to go even though she’s got a paper due tomorrow and hasn’t washed her hair in 3 days.

“ISN’T THIS AMAZING?” Byulyi yells over the crowd of people wildly bumping their bodies into each other and the blaring music. It’s humid. Yongsun’s sure she’s stepped on something gross. At least 2 people have tried grinding on her, she doesn’t know. What she does know is that Byulyi’s holding her hand tight and she’s about to spontaneously combust.

“It’s really loud in here!”

“WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Byul makes a pained face at her, stretching back to hear her better.

“WHAT Oh—never mind.” Yongsun sighs, realising that no matter how loud she shouts, Byulyi can’t hear her over the loud music. How is she supposed to flirt with Byulyi if they can’t even hear each other? Another body falls on her and Yongsun is this close to biting someone’s ear off. She grunts under the weight of a clearly inebriated body and struggles to push him back on his feet. Of course this fucking caveman has to fall on me, of all the people in this hellcave.

Suddenly, Byulyi appears in front of her and pushes the man off her.

“Hey, watch where you’re falling, asshole!” Byulyi snarls, anger flaring in her eyes, arms holding Yongsun closely, tightly, and Yongsun feels her face heat up as she presses herself closer to Byulyi’s frame.

“Thanks, bodyguard,” Yongsun breathes out.

“WHAT?”

“I said thanks!”

“WHAT?”

“Forget it!”

“...WHAT?”

“LET’S JUST GO!”

“I can’t hear you, let’s just go!” Byulyi pulls her arm to signal her to start moving and they start wading through the swamp of people once more. A light bulb flickers to life above Yongsun’s head instantly. They can barely hear themselves in the noise, much less each other. It’s an opportunity falling on her lap and Yongsun’s damned if she won’t take it.

She clears her throat. “Your hands really turn me on.”

Byulyi doesn’t even turn around to look at her, just keeps pushing forward through the crowd. Yongsun bites back laughter and squeezes Byulyi’s hand. She turns around at that, tilting her head in slight confusion, face sporting a grin. Yongsun shakes her head and they continue moving as glee at the prospect of what she can do in her current situation fills her up.

Walking deeper in still, the club gets louder and darker even though Yongsun didn’t think it was possible mere minutes ago.

“Hey, hot ass lady holding my hand,” Yongsun tries. “Could we go get some drinks before hitting the dance floor?” No reaction.

“You sexy beast. Hold me tight. Grab my tiddies and drag me into a kiss.”

Nothing. If Byulyi can hear her, she doesn’t show any indication that she does.

It’s even better than I thought, Yongsun thinks incredulously. She gives a tug to the hand that’s holding hers.

“Can we get a drink first?” She asks in her normal voice, not even trying to compete against the noise. Byulyi frowns and leans closer, lips forming a ‘what’. Yongsun smiles and gestures towards what distinctly looks like a bar and tilts her head back to mimic the act of drinking. Byulyi perks up, nods, and they head off to a new destination.

It’s a little quieter at the bar, the air still shaking with heavy bass, but Yongsun can actually hear her own thoughts now. A familiar beautiful woman with a smouldering gaze is already waiting for them at the bar, an eyebrow raised, and Yongsun fights back a blush when the woman glances between Byulyi and herself as they walk towards her.

“Surprise!” Byulyi yells and almost leaps across the counter to wrap the woman in a hug.

“How did you manage to find me? I barely started working, like, two days ago!” Hyejin laughs, arms going around to return the hug before pulling Yongsun into another smothering one.

“I have my sources!” Byulyi says and Hyejin rolls her eyes.

“Wheein! Of course.”

“Where is she anyway? She owes me 15 bucks!” Hyejin motions to somewhere behind her and not even a moment later, a young dimpled girl appears beside Hyejin and squeals, dragging all four of them into a group huddle.

“HELL YEAH! The gang’s back together for a night of booze and bad decisions!” She jumps around excitedly and Yongsun feels her heart melt at the sight. She glances at Hyejin and Byulyi and she’s sure she’s not the only one. They are all soft for Wheein and her bubbly energy.

“Making bad decisions won’t be a problem with how fucking LOUD this place is! Are the speakers busted or something?” Yongsun winces as the music somehow gets louder than before, a remix of some top 10 EDM song reverberating in her skull.

“We don’t really know why but the other bartenders tell us it’s the DJ! He always plays the music this loud just cuz it ‘sets him in the mood’!” Wheein explains and Byulyi rolls her eyes.

“What an asshole.”

“Right?! Most of the DJs we’ve met here are really nice but he’s the only one that’s a big meanie! Just earlier tonight he…” Wheein launches into a story and Byulyi listens attentively, straining her neck forward to pick up on Wheein’s excited chatter. Hyejin quickly fills up two mugs with some cheap beer for them and is off to respond to a customer calling for her. Byulyi sends a wink her way as thanks before focusing her attention back onto Wheein and her flailing arms.

Yongsun adores that part of Byulyi that is so attentive and pays attention to details. The one that tries her best to be inclusive. The one with so much kindness and care in her heart. It was a quality that attracted so many of her friends to her and helped her to easily make more.

“I love you so much,” Yongsun stares at Byulyi and the words slip out before she can stop it. A spike of anxiety stabs her before realising that it is too loud for anyone to pick up what she’s saying. “That jacket looks great around you but you know what would look better? Me.”

Byulyi doesn't react. She’s still listening attentively to Wheein’s enthusiastic storytelling. It’s a chance she can’t miss.

“You funky lesbian, why the fuck are you so perfect, huh? Wanna fight? Wanna sit on my face? I dare you. I’m so in love with you. I’m not even joking. I would lay my life down for you like a knight for her queen, except like, I don’t wanna die, so maybe not. I’d fight a man for you, though. I’d choke all the men in the world for you. Fuck, you look so good. Marry me.”

Yongsun is on a roll, spitting out cheesy compliments and flirty pick-up lines. She says it to no-one in particular, keeping her eyes on the hyper duo next to her as she nurses her drink in one hand.

That is, until she realises her phone has been incessantly buzzing in her pocket. It’s enough to get her to take it out and look through her notifications.

Hyegi: oi

Hyegi: im on the other side

Hyegi: bitch dont ignore me look here

Hyegi: are u talking to yourself or smth wat the fuck

Hyegi: who you talking to

Hyegi: oh my god

Hyegi: SKJSHDSJFH

Hyegi: omg u hopeless gay

Hyegi: sit on your face???

Hyegi: yong pls

Hyegi: pls do not start fighting here i dont wanna be fired

Hyegi: im begging you pls stop

Hyegi: o fuk that’s so NSFW im gagging

Hyegi: bicth

Hyegi: thicc byulssy???? UVE GONE TOO FAR

Hyegi: HELLO!! LOOK HERE ASSHOLE!!!

Yongsun is absolutely mortified. Her eyes quickly dart to where Hyejin is leaning against the counter a few metres away, smoothly typing away on her phone, as if she didn’t just ruin Yongsun’s entire night in a few texts. Hyejin glances up to look at her and smirks. Yongsun's fight or flight response is fully activated and screaming at her to somehow knock Hyejin unconscious and make her lose all memory of tonight.

Yong: FUCK

Yong: dkjfhsljdfh

Yong: what the fuck

Hyegi: calm down

Yong: im gonna fukcking

Yong: what the FUCK

Hyegi: CHILL i wont tell

Yong: i will die on the spot if you do

Hyegi: please dont

Yong: DIE you hear me

Hyegi: I WONT I SWEAR

Yong: this whole time

Yong: how

Yong: did you bug me with a mic

Hyegi: what?? no i can lip read

Yong: how? since when??? what the fuck

Hyegi: took a course back in college

Yong: why

Hyegi: i wanted to be a spy

Yong: uh

Yong: ok

Yong: anyway pls dont spill

Hyegi: chillax i wont. I got u babe

Yong: thanks ily

Hyegi: ily too

Hyegi: also u are one giant horndog u know that?? fuckin intense!!

Yong: and what about it? she’s hot. im hot. we’re perfect for each other

Hyegi: LMAO right so why u seducing thin air

Yong: im just

Yong: building up my offense u know

Yong: training to fight fire with fire

Hyegi: by talking to the air

Yong: im TRAINING u fool

Yong: im like zuko and she’s azula because im gonna take her down

Yong: except we’re not siblings and i wanna date her

Hyegi: fuck u dont ruin that show for me

Yong: im not supporting incense im just saying they were both hot

Hyegi: incense im its incest u illiterate

Hyegi: ok look if i give u another drink on the house will u PLEASE shut the fuck up

Yong: a nicer one please

Yong: thanks

Yong: also zutara should have been endgame

Hyegi: dont test me because i will throw this drink in ur face

Yongsun laughs and looks up only to see Wheein gone and Byulyi staring at her and smiling. She feels her heart jump out her chest and tries to not let it show. She raises an eyebrow and Byulyi shakes her head and takes another swig of her now finished beer. Hyejin walks up to them with Yongsun’s drink on the house.

“Hey, how come she gets another one?!” Byulyi pouts, shifting closer to Yongsun and her new drink.

“What can I say? I’m a natural charmer!” Yongsun shrugs, a teasing lilt in her voice, which makes Byulyi pout even more. Hyejin rolls her eyes and walks away. Yongsun realises that it’s just her and Byulyi now. She clears her throat uncomfortably, unprepared to face Byulyi one-on-one, despite all the ‘training’ she’s undergone.

“Holy shit, I love this song! For a shitty DJ, he’s got pretty good taste in music!” Byulyi perks up. She gets off her chair and sways to the song now playing through the speakers. Yongsun watches awkwardly as Byulyi dances without a care in front of her.

She thinks she’s disassociating. In another dimension.

Byulyi? Sexy dancing in front of her as she sits and watches? Not even trying to escape? Absolutely unheard of.

She’d already be running for the hills on a normal day.

I’m too fucking gay for this shit. Is this happening? Is this really happening? What the fuck.

Yongsun doesn’t budge an inch on her seat, doesn’t even grab her drink. Her eyes watch Byulyi intensely, expression unchanging as the younger girl dances without a care in the world, unaware of the quickly deteriorating mess that is Yongsun’s sanity. Byulyi’s eyes lock with hers and she feels something important escape her body.

Her phone buzzes again and again and Yongsun forces herself to tear her eyes away from the spectacle that is Byulyi and respond to it.

Hyegi: u lesbian

Hyegi: SHUT UP ur sex eyes are so obvious

Hyegi: U look like u are one blink away from pushing her down!! Fuck

Hyegi: i cant deal with this

Hyegi: remember to use protection xoxo hwasa

Yongsun rolls her eyes. Her phone buzzes again. What now?

---

Wheenie: byul-unnie

Wheeinie: i got him to play the song u wanted

Wheeinie: r u sure dis will work

Wheeinie: make sure u do wat we discussed

Wheeinie: unnie u luk v intense

Wheeinie: ya work those sexy moves

Wheein: sway ur hips more!! bat ur eyes!!

Wheeinie: she looks turned on as fUK keep doing it

Wheeinie: lmao she’s looking here?? move closer

Wheeinie: get more in her face!! blast ur hormones! show her ur willing and ready!!!

Wheeinie: wait

Wheeinie: OH FUCK

from this shitpost of mine

after more than a year here i am...... my measly attempt at comedy..

comments r appreciated and criticism even more so because i get turned on by both

[fastsalad]

I just rewatched the Melodramatics production of anb and it’s so iconically 2006 I just had to make a post with every single thing that was iconic. This got really long so most of it is under the cut lol

-Gordon looks like my cousin Cassidy

-The sweater vest pattern

-All the stagehands are dressed as nurses which is really clever and blends really well.

-All of Rhoda’s outfits are so iconic and 2006

-Bungee’s little dance during calamari is the reason I live.

-Nancy D’s hairstyle gives me Tracy Turnblad vibes

-RHODA’S HAIR CLIPS

-Roger legit looks like one of those annoying dumbass boys I went to middle school with who would act out for attention I’m sorry I love him but it’s true

-Lisa is so short compared to everyone which makes everything ten times funnier

-The choreography for Heart and Music is also the reason that I live

-Gordon lowkey also kinda looks like John Mulaney

-The doctors facial expressions are the best thing

-Mimi’s voice is actually my favorite thing

-Mimi is so iconic her PURPLE EYESHADOW AFJLHSDL

-Mimi and Gordon’s interactions during Mother’s Gonna Make Things Fine give me LIFE

-BUNGEE’S FROG WALK I’M DEAD

-The little vocal swing thingies roger does during Sailing? Legit my favorite thing.

-Roger: “Yes iiII’d wanna go sail.” Me, sobbing: yes you go you funky little sailor man

-Richard’s face when Nancy D said she was the thin nurse was the actual funniest thing

-Roger and Bungee were in Gordo’s Law of Genetics and I lowkey loved it like it added another layer to the song especially since they were the only two doing the bass parts and they had different choreography than the rest

-get it minister

-Once again, a+ choreography

-At the beginning of And They’re Off Gordon wheeled himself onto the stage in a wheelchair and then dramatically turned his head to look at the audience on beat with the song and it made me chuckle.

-RHODA’S LOW-RISE PANTS AND LAYERED SWEATERS ITS SO 2006 I CAN’T

-Everyone was pretending to be old at some point? Idk

-Gordon’s voice makes me so happy

-The cast just overall has a very nice sound

-Roger’s dad wallet

-“Looking sharp looking fit” guys he’s not wearing a suit what do we say here

-~LisTeN tO RoGeERr~

-Just Go was just overall very cute and funny

-“He’ll be brave as Zorro” does a weird sword fight dance

-Cause it’s gonna ~scaAaAaAre~ them! (Cue Gordon having a heart attack)

-Bungee is iconic as always

-Sitting Becalmed in the Lee of Cuttyhunk was like a weird fever dream but I lowkey loved it

-Nancy D and the doctor getting so excited over brain surgery is my favorite thing

-Gordon looks so confused and weirded out and honestly? Mood.

-RHODA’S SCARF

-“Maybe we’ll lauuuughtooloud” listen I felt that ‘oh shit I waited too long and now I’m behind the music’ moment.

-Gordon and Roger’s voices go together so nicely

-Mimi is literally my favorite

-“What’re ya, stupid? Go and fly with the man!” Made me feel unexplained emotions.

-Roger looks so sad at the end of the song and it breaks my heart

-“Let’s just go over this. You have a home right? Cause I don’t.” This Lisa is iconic.

-Lisa’s facial expressions = also iconic.

-Mr. Bungee’s glasses

-“The preferred word in any kind of situation is- DON’T TOUCH ME!”

-The waitress nurse’s hat and Nancy D’s glasses

-The waitress nurse holding a copy of the actual script for the show during The Yes Song

-The little hand motion Bungee did for “get into my car”

-The zoom in for affinity

-THE FLIP PHONES

-The lighting for in the middle of the room

-The audience loosing it when Richard started singing

-Mimi struggling to get onstage with the crate

-The pictures on Gordon’s bookshelf

-The way Mimi says “asshole” so casually

-The horse head statue and seashell being used as bookends

-The lighting is back for middle of the room reprise

-Rhoda picking up the books Mimi dropped during the scene change

-Roger’s striped polo shirt that just screams sailor

-The return of Roger’s dad wallet

-Just the way Lisa did the “you love him. Too bad.” bit

-And her belting “when life turns out to be” it was different than most actresses do it and gave me chills

-Roger’s facial expressions

-The end of A Really Lousy Day in the Universe like holy shiT MY EMOTIONS

-Brain Dead was really fast and. Vibes.

-Also the minister and waitress switched costumes for brain dead? Strange.

-The waltz choreo

-The single water glass on the table

-“OH LOVERS START ROMANCING” and just the whole green teeth moment. Yes.

-ROGERS PIROUETTES. HE DID LIKE THREE IN A ROW THAT’S FRICKEN HARD

-RHODA’S RAINBOW SUSPENDERS

-Gordon’s little scoff-gasp thing after “tawdry”

-“Yes it is!”

-Just Gordon and Rhoda’s whole dynamic during Whenever I Dream

-The dramatic reveal that Gordon wasn’t puppeteering her at the end

-Rhoda’s clog dancing

-Richard’s superhero costume

-The fact that the video quality dropped dramatically when the lights came down

-The priest/waiter literally sparkling during Eating Myself Up Alive due to the UV lighting

-Richard’s attempted opera singing

-“YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA”

-The end of eating myself up alive reminded me of the ending of The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals.

-The pictures on Gordon’s bookshelf that used to be of him and his loved ones being changed to just photos of Gordon’s face from different angles during the music still plays on

-Gordon playing the piano during the music still plays on

-MIMI TURNING OVER THE PICTURES OF GORDON AND THEN PICKING UP THE LAST ONE (which I’m pretty sure used to be of her and him) AND HOLDING IT BEFORE TURNING IT OVER TOO

-The bookshelf being empty except for the horse and seashell bookends is really chilling

-The whole apartment just looks so much more dreary and empty and lifeless than the first time you see it like props to the set and lighting designers

-Just the entirety of the music still plays on

-MIMI PUTTING ON SUNGLASSES AT THE END

-BUNGEES ENTRANCE

-HIS LITTLE SIDEWAYS HOP

-The way the frog eyes just jiggle around

-“okey dokey” (double ok sign)

-“s p a g h e t t i ! “

-(the biggest, funniest smile) “I  L I K E  S P A G H E T T I ! “

-THE HIGH FIVE

-Just all of bungees little hand gestures and dances

-Gordon’s little smile when he said “I’m ready”

-The fact that them singing “Richards gonna catch some hell for this” is very muted

-The audience slowly and subtly starting to lose it throughout You Boys Are Gonna Get Me in Such Trouble

-Richard’s weird little dance at the end

-THE LITTLE SMOOCH AT THE END OF SAILING REPRISE

-Lisa’s book advertisement

-“MY price? T w o  b u c k s.”

-The gay history book

-Lisa having a feather boa for some reason

-THE FROG HAT

-Roger’s striped polo shirt that just screams sailor part 2

-Whatever the hell that shirt Gordon was wearing was

-LISA’S LITTLE SMILE WHEN SHE HOLDS UP TWO FINGERS

-The fact that she’s so short makes this song even funnier

-The little dance she did for “silly picnic”

-“YOU KNOW I REALLY HATE CRAZY PEOPLE”

-Gordon: (snatches a book) “HA. HA.” Lisa: (snatches the book back and throws Gordon’s cane into the corner)

-This Roger has a softer voice than most who have played the role and it just gave some of the lines a different vibe? And I loved it.

-Bungee coming on at the end without his frog head

-The fact that bungee looks about a third of his age with the frog head on? Like he legit looks ten with it on but like 30 with it off.

-Gordon: (dramatically throws the frog hat offstage)

-get it minister part 2

-Just. Every harmony in this show.

-“Finally there’s sun!” GORDON’S VOICE I’M CRYING HES SO GOOD

-The little clump they form at the end like agdlabkglsfkgak family

-Did I already mention the waitress’s sideswept bangs? So 2006.

-Bungee reminds me so much of my friend Phineas it’s scary

-AND GORDON LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE MY COUSIN CASSIDY ITS SCARY

-the frog noises in the credits