#he can be silly and have fun now (he still worries some though) he's a good boy with...a bit of an authority issue

[mariesbee]

i need whatever they put into kendall knight injected into my veins. especially big time audition kendall, he was 1 step away from beating the crap out of gustavo (lmao) that's not to say that i don't absolutely love the softer kendall we get almost literally from episode 2 and onwards, he's a sillier, softer-edged version of himself, just like bad boy kendall is his existing personality cranked up by like 20% and we do get moments later on where his bta edge comes forward, just not as strong.

i just. have a lot of feelings about him as a character

[03den]

bfhamzah headcanons - part 2 ( gnreader )

a.n: my god i was not expecting allat on my first post, thank uuu sm have some more fun w my rambling (slightly suggestive & reader is referred to as gf/wife)

part 1

in part one i briefly talked about how hamzah texts you a lot, and i stand my ground on that. he def spams you with the most random things. if he encounters a funny thing on the street, he immediately takes his phone out and sends you a photo. wait, did hamzah just thought about a really bad joke that is not funny in the slightest? he's proudly texting you it with no context at all. sometimes you're sitting in the same room, both on your silent phone time, and he's just repeatedly sending you brainrot reels, laughing to himself. oh, and you better watch them and the tiktoks he sends you, because he will reference them later and be dramatic about it if you don't understand it. "hi im ol- ol- oliver" "what?" "you don't know what i'm talking about? babe, no. i literally sent you the og tiktok!" ohh he's going to be salty about it.

onto that, i don't think he's the biggest pet name user. i think he prefers to call you by a nickname only he has for you—he thinks it makes him more special. once, martin tried to call you by that same nickname during a video, and hamzah just side eyed him and went "dude, no. stop.” occasionally, he will call you babe or baby in situations where he's attention seeking, half-asleep, high, trying to win your affection back after pestering you for too long... but that's also what he calls you during those moments, when his mind is foggy with different thoughts, and constant stimulation steal his ability to self-control. anything other than babe or baby, i can see it lowkey making him cringe

something corny that def doesn't make him cringe though is matching clothes—oh, this man loves it. and i don't mean subtle matching. yk those iconic t-shirts hamzah and martin constantly wear? the ones he buys to match with you are like that—white t-shirt with black letters saying 'i think they're hot' with an arrow each pointing to different sides. he for sure has asked you to wear that shirt with him for a youtube video, and made you sit so the arrow on his shirt pointed to you, and yours to him. has bought himself the ‘i love my gf’ black hoodie and wears the ‘i don't need an encyclopedia my wife knows it all’ t-shirt more often now that you're dating. don’t worry tho he let's you choose normal matching clothes as well

he can be a very silly bf, specially in public where he feels too exposed to be vulnerable, however, deep down he’s so so sweet, so caring. mumbled confessions against your neck late at night, hamzah tells you things weighted with such love it puts you under some daze. it’s not so easy for him to be in such vulnerable state, his words come out messy and shy, but the fact he tries nonetheless gives his voice a certain rawness—there’s no room for you to doubt his words

his heartfelt ‘i love you’s are always heard during these moments. repeated over and over, in between kisses, one no more genuine than the other. hamzah feels every word in ‘i love you’, and so do you, so they’re more reserved for times like these. that doesn't mean you ever separate ways without a quick "love you" with a peck though, that's an essential for him.

you are so important to hamzah, like actually so important it’s in everything he does. it’s in the way he does his groceries thinking about what you’d want, in case you come over; it’s in the way every other concern is pushed aside the moment he sees you; it’s in the way his house is covered in evidence of your presence; and in how he cannot stop posting you—be it on tiktok, youtube, or wtv

something else the fans noticed during a video is how he keeps a polaroid of you two on his phone case—a selfie of you next to each other, camera too close to your faces but that still managed to capture your laughing fit and his grin. it’s cute, and even tho it was a moment between js the two of you, the picture clearly conveys the love you have for each other.

after some time dating, youtube gets flooded with compilations of your relationship. ‘hamzah annoying name for 15 minutes straight’. ‘every clip of Hamzah being absolutely in love WARNING: long video.’ ‘moments where name and hamzah openly flirted in front of the camera.’

extras!

literally had no idea on what to put on the brainrot line.. i havent been keeping up w brainrot also im so obsessed with every photo of him included in this post

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: Impressed

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @georgiarose94

A/N: This is just some fun fluffy goodness that popped into my head the other day! I have a part 2 in mind if y’all want it? Enjoy!

Summary: Harry Styles shows up on your dating app and you’re convinced it’s not really him✨

Harry only has one reason why he finally caved and downloaded the bright yellow dating app, he likes the fact he can’t be the one to message anyone he matches with first. It takes some of the pressure off of him because it’s hard to think of an opening line that is catchy and engaging enough to actually make the other person respond, and while he may be a talented songwriter he is absolutely horrible at trying to be witty and flirty through a screen and over texts. So not having to worry about reaching out first allows him to just sit and wait to see if anyone is actually interested enough in him to send him a message and so far, much to his disappointment and only a slight blow to his ego he hasn’t gotten more than a few random hellos.

Even though he hasn’t gotten the kind of response he thought he would since he downloaded the app just a few days ago, he still finds himself checking it a few times a day and that’s exactly what he’s doing now as he gets comfortable on his couch with a glass of wine in his hand. He scrolls through a few profiles and doesn’t swipe right or hit the heart button on any of them until he lands on one that seems interesting. Your profile picture is of you grinning as you stare at a piece of what he thinks is cake that’s on a plate in front of you that has a candle in it, there’s a little caption under it that says “if you can make me smile the way this cake did, you’re a keeper” and he chuckles to himself as he continues further down your profile. The most important thing he likes to look at on people’s profile is what they’re looking for on the app, because Harry knows he’s ready for a relationship and he isn’t trying to have his time wasted nor waste anyone else’s if he knows they aren’t looking for the same thing in the end.

He feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth when he sees your response to that prompt if the exact same as his, looking for something long term. Harry takes a sip of his wine as he looks through the photos you posted on your profile, enjoying the tiny look at what you do for fun since you have a few photos at concerts and other events such as the classic group photo during a girls night out but the one that sticks with Harry the most is of you sitting on a couch with a glass of wine and a book in your hand that someone took while you weren’t looking or at least that’s how it appears. When he reaches the end of your profile he doesn’t give himself a moment to overthink it he simply swipes right and continues on his scroll through the app trying not to get too anxious as he waits to see if you’ll match with him and find him interesting enough to message.

After a few more minutes of scrolling he lets out a sigh before he takes a rather large sip of wine, just when he’s ready to call it a night and leave the silly little dating app he sees that he has a new message. He quirks an eyebrow as he goes to his messages and he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he sees it’s from you, meaning you have to be online now since he just swiped on you not even ten minutes ago and you’ve already sent him a message.

Now what Harry isn’t prepared for is what your message says, having only gotten the different variations of Hello so far as opening lines so when he opens your message the laugh that escapes him is genuine and he feels as if you just sent him a one liner you’d possibly use on him if you saw him at a bar and wanted to start a conversation with him. He reads the message again and shakes his head as he chuckles to himself while also feeling a bit of an inflation to his ego because your opening line is tailored to him, it’s something that you wouldn’t be able to use on just anyone. Because even if they were an obvious One Direction fan it would be very risky because they might not know the lyrics to the song and be extremely confused.

“If the room was burning, would you really not notice?”

He finds himself instantly replying and when he hits send he suddenly starts to get nervous that maybe he should’ve waited a bit to reply so he doesn’t seem too eager and possibly scare you off before he can even really get to know you. But it’s too late now, so he just sips his wine and stares at the small screen in his hand.

“Honestly I don’t think I would. My mind would be too preoccupied by someone and their ability to tell little fibs.”

When he sees a new message appear beneath his he lets out a small sigh of relief because already this is the longest conversation he’s had on this app so far.

“Right well thank goodness you’re fireproof.”

He quickly replies to you and waits with a new feeling of excitement brewing in his tummy to see what you’re going to say next. But he can’t help but wonder how long you can keep this up, he will happily play along because he doesn’t want to be the one to change the subject and possibly ruin the mood.

“Exactly. I’m also very good at finding my way through dark places as well.”

Luckily for him he doesn’t have to wait very long and your response has him laughing and he’s grateful that he lives alone so no one can walk into his living room and ask him what he’s laughing at while cuddled up in the corner of his couch.

“Oh does that mean you’re not scared of the dark? Because if you are that’s okay I won’t let anything get to you and drag you down.”

He is typing out his reply and hitting send before he can even fully lean over and put his empty wine glass down on the table.

“That’s lovely of you to say but no I’m not scared of the dark. Not even a little bit. The only thing I get a little unsettled about is how quickly the night can change.”

As Harry waits to see what you’ll say he can’t stop his mind from wondering if there’s a possibility you’re doing something similar right now, sitting comfortably on your couch or maybe in bed smiling and laughing at your phone like an idiot. Because surely it can’t just be him that’s enjoying how easy the conversation is flowing, regardless of how silly it may be.

You read the latest message from this “Harry” person and laugh at how he goes about avoiding the exact lyrics of the song night changes, you quickly type out a reply so you don’t have to keep him waiting for too long.

“It does change fast doesn’t it? I’ve always thought it was a bit rude how everything you’re dreaming about is just is gone in the morning.”

After hitting send you reach over to your nightstand and grab your glass of wine and take a sip as you go back to visit his profile. You narrow your eyes as you bring the screen a little closer to your face as you scroll down to the few photos he’s chosen, most of which are also on his Instagram so you don’t let the thought that you’re talking to the actual Harry Styles cross your mind. Especially since a lot of the information needed to make a profile on the dating app the two of you are currently messaging on is very accessible, it’s just a simple scroll through Google. The only thing that makes you quirk a brow is one photo he has at the very end of his profile, it’s a photo of him sitting at a table with a smile on his face while holding a glass of wine and it’s one you’ve never seen before but that also doesn’t mean anything because there’s tons of photos and videos of Harry you haven’t seen.

When you saw you matched with him you couldn’t stop yourself from instantly messaging him, because even though you know it’s just someone using Harry’s photos to get attention you figure you might as well have some harmless fun. You know eventually you’ll decide to move on and maybe report his account depending on how weird he gets. You’re brought back to the moment when you see you have a new message, you take another sip of your wine as you read what he wrote.

“It’s very rude but there is something that even the night can’t change. Do you know what that is?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as you read the message and you get an odd feeling this person might be trying to flirt with you because the next line of the song he’s talking about is a rather romantic one, but then again you can’t really be sure. You take this moment to test the waters a bit as you type out your reply and hit send before you can second guess yourself and delete it.

“It’s you and I right? Because nothing can separate us?”

You know you’re going to have to casually change the subject soon but you can’t help but want to see just how long the two of you can keep indirectly quoting One Direction songs in a way that has ended up with the two of you in a rather pointless conversation. You feel your cheeks get warm when you read his reply, of course this Harry impersonator would send you lyrics to Stockholm Syndrome.

“Precisely. It’s safe to say you’ve got me tied down.”

You finish off your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand before figuring out how exactly you want to reply. There’s a few ways you could go about this, but instead of going the obvious flirty route you choose to go for the comedic approach instead because that’s more of who you are anyway.

“I mean I can’t have you trying to escape the city and follow the sun now can I? Because that would just break my heart and I don’t even know where I’d go if that happened.”

You giggle to yourself as you scroll to the top of your messages and reread them, well aware that if anyone were to read them they’d be extremely confused. You also have to admit that this person is very well educated on their One Direction lyrics and you’re a bit impressed. When you get to the bottom you see “Harry” has replied and what he says makes you lean your head back and laugh as you drop your phone into your lap as you try to get yourself under control.

“I’d never try to escape because if your heart is broken and you’re just wondering around that makes me worry people will try to steal you away from me and I can’t have that. Not to mention I also have no clue where’d you go with a broken heart and I’m honestly so shit with directions so I’d be left with no choice but to walk around shouting your name.”

After a few moments you quickly type out a response and double tap his last message letting a red heart appear next to it so he knows you really enjoyed that creative use of lyrics from two songs.

“Walking around shouting my name? Absolutely not. Don’t embarrass me.”

Harry doesn’t even bother trying to hide his amusement at your message, enjoying how you managed to give him an easy way to go along with your subtle change of conversation since he notices a very obvious lack of song lyrics in your reply. And Harry being the romantic that he is finds this a great opportunity to ask something, and your answer will be one he might possibly tuck away in his mind to remember at a later date.

“Not one for big declarations of love then?”

As he waits for your reply Harry takes a moment to process the fact that even though the two of you haven’t even really had a true conversation he already can tell by your sense of humor that he’s going to enjoy getting to know you more, if you let him that is. When he sees your response he laughs and runs a hand through his hair with his hand that’s not holding his phone.

“I’ve never had anyone do a big declaration of love for me before so I’m not sure how I feel about them. What about you? Do you need a Jumbotron proposal during a sporting event or a billboard dedicated to how much I love your hands?”

Harry looks at his free hand and wonders if you’re being serious about loving his hands or if that’s just an example you picked to show him what you would be willing to write on a billboard about him. As he types out his reply his mind begins to think of things that could be considered big declarations of love or feelings that maybe you’d like, because even though he doesn’t know you he figures having some ideas on the back burner can’t hurt and who doesn’t like coming home to an outrageous amount of flowers or a maybe even having the radio play nothing but your favorite songs for a whole day.

“I am open to all types of declarations of love. Big, small, handwritten or painted on a billboard. I’m not picky.”

Now only part of that statement is a lie, Harry truly does enjoy any type of declaration of love that his significant other is willing to give him but he is a tiny bit picky. But that’s something to discuss at a later date, because it doesn’t really have anything to do with what the two of you are discussing now, he’s picky about other things but not how someone is willing to tell him their feelings about him. As Harry is getting up and grabbing his empty wine glass off his coffee table and heading into the kitchen he gets an odd notification at the bottom of the message thread between the two of you.

*accept video chat*

But before he can even hit accept or decline the message is gone and he sees you’ve typed out a quick little explanation.

“Oh god I’m sorry! Finger slipped and hit the video chat button! Sorry!”

He quirks a brow as he scrolls to the top of the messages and sees what looks like a FaceTime icon near the corner. Having not noticed it before he becomes curious and maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s just that he’s interested in you and thinks this is a smart way to ��meet” for the first time to get a better feeling of if the two of you actually can hold a conversation or not but either way Harry is typing out a quick message and hitting send before entering his kitchen.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know it was an option, I’m fine with a video chat if you are?”

You stare at his message for a solid thirty seconds before you even blink, not knowing why on earth this person would want to video chat with you when you know they aren’t Harry Styles. It’s going to be awkward and embarrassing, for them of course not for you because you already know you haven’t been talking to the tall tattooed international superstar but maybe this is for the best so you can tell whoever it is how impressed with their One Direction song lyric knowledge you are. And maybe, just maybe you’ll still find whoever it is attractive and it won’t be a total bummer of a Friday night. So against your better judgement you send him a simple response before you climb out of bed and head for the kitchen to refill your wine.

“Sure!”

You catch your reflection in the door of your microwave and instantly place your phone on the counter next to your fridge so you can adjust the monstrosity that is your messy bun. Once that’s as good as it’s going to get you look down at your faded band t shirt and decide that it’s good enough for whoever it is that’s about to video chat you, it’s after nine at night on a Friday after all so in your mind them seeing you like this is just preparing them for what they can expect in the future. As you’re reaching for your bottle of wine you see a new notification appear on your screen and you feel nervous as you pick your phone up.

*Accept video chat from Harry Styles*

You hit accept and the screen goes black before suddenly you’re looking at someone’s ceiling and you squint your eyes and bring the phone closer to your face as what appears to be half a forearm comes into view.

“Sorry love it seems I’ve dropped you.” You feel your heart begin to beat so fast you’re afraid it’s going to explode as a British accent comes from the phone, you swear it sounds exactly like Harry’s but you simply shake your head at that idea because there’s no way he’s on the other end of this call.

“Oh wow you sound just like-”

“I sound just like who?” Harry asks as he finally comes into view after he picks the phone up from where he accidentally dropped it on his counter while trying to open his wine bottle one handed. Your eyes go a bit wide as you move your phone away from your face, you feel your cheeks get hot and out of pure panic you place your phone against your wine bottle and put both hands over your face making Harry raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re Harry Styles.” You mumble into your hands but Harry hears you just fine making him chuckle as he pours some wine into his glass. “You weren’t supposed to actually be Harry Styles.” You explain as you spread your fingers allowing you to get a small look at Harry through the gaps, it’s almost unfair how much better he looks while taking up your phone screen than he does in his photos.

“Who was I supposed to be?” He questions as he grabs his phone and his wine glass and heads back into his living room.

“Some weirdo just acting like you to get attention on a dating app.” Harry doesn’t quite like that answer, he doesn’t like the idea of someone pretending to be him just to get attention and possibly hurt people in the process.

“Do people really do that? Pretend to be me on things like this?” You just shrug as you slowly lower your hands from your face and Harry is glad he’s already sitting down because even with your pink cheeks and distraught look in your still slightly wide eyes he can’t get over how pretty you are.

“I’m not sure? You’re actually the first Harry Styles I’ve ever come across but I mean I just-I didn’t think it was really you.” You admit with a laugh as you reach and grab your phone so you can get to your wine bottle, deciding you now more than ever need to refill your glass.

“Are you disappointed it’s really me and not some random weirdo?” He watches you raise an eyebrow and make a humming noise as if you really have to think about it before answering him.

“Honestly I’m relieved it’s actually you because if it wasn’t then I would’ve had to tell a random person how impressed I was with their One Direction knowledge.” You answer after you fill your glass up with wine, Harry chuckles as you make a face of disgust at the mention of telling someone you were impressed with them. “But since it’s you-”

“Oh are you saying you’re not impressed with my One Direction knowledge?” He says in mock offense as he watches you walk through what he can only assume is your kitchen based on the oven he sees in the background.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You answer without any hesitation and Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin because the look you give him is one that tells him he should’ve known that was going to be your answer.

“Well I’m quite impressed with your knowledge and your opening message was-”

“Oh god.” You say with a groan as you head into the living room, your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you take a seat on your couch making Harry give you a soft smile to try to help ease your clear embarrassment of what you sent him because he thought it was great.

“Don’t feel embarrassed love.” He quietly clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine after the petname accidentally slips out of his mouth. “I thought it was brilliant that’s why I responded and kept it going.” He explains making you smile and it’s not until this very moment do the two of you really sit and look each other in the eyes and Harry feels his own cheeks get a little warm as you stare at him through the phone.

“You’re really pretty.” Harry laughs and runs a hand through his hair as you blink a few times and realize what you just said out loud.

“You’re really pretty as well.” He says with only a small hint of nervousness evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to come across overly flirty but he also doesn’t see the harm in telling you the truth, you are very pretty.

“Thank you.” You smile and get comfortable on your couch. “I guess it’s good to get all this embarrassing and awkwardness out of the way now right?” Harry just nods and smiles at your choice of words, giving him some hope that you’ll want to maybe do this again or possibly meet up in person if you feel comfortable enough.

“Exactly.” Is all he says with a grin making you return his smile as you sink into your couch and toss a blanket over your legs to get comfortable because something tells you that you’re about to be on the phone with Harry for a while and you don’t mind. You silently thank your lucky stars that you decided to message him when you saw he matched with you because you can’t imagine the level of regret you’d feel if you somehow found out you fumbled the opportunity to talk and possibly get to know Harry just because you thought it was a fake profile.

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #14 死

† camping trip mysteries †

"You'd have never said you'd be involved in a Council of 9 meeting at any point in your life; yet here you are, suddenly thrusted into a mission with the Chief you've just hooked up with, because your life couldn't possibly get more complicated."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9k

content: female friendships, silly conversations, Vyunjin, dodgeball, AD being horrible with throws, cryptic stuff, council meetings, having to work with jeon officially, gang loyalty and bestie gossip

☠ author's note ☠

 I really milked this camping trip for all it's worth, huh? Three whole chapters of outdoor shenanigans! I regret NOTHING. Anyway, here's the conclusion of our little nature excursion! Hope you enjoyed this slightly more chill setting (apart from, y'know, chapter 12's 👉🏻👌🏻 situation) because don't worry—there's PLENTY of time for everything to go spectacularly to shit later <3

MY KIWI HEAD 🥝🤧 I genuinely love him so much and I'm as surprised as you are! Who would have thought?? I seriously had ZERO intentions for Takama when I started this—no plan, no backstory, nothing. He just showed up in my brain one day demanding rights.

Maybe I love him so much because he's the only one with more than two functioning brain cells? Like, the man is just... chill. Nice. Using his fucking brain. Being all wise and grounding while everyone else is having emotional crises left and right. THE VOICE OF REASON IN THIS CIRCUS.

Takama x Reader endgame??? Jkjk this is a Jeon Jungkook fanfic ☝️ ...which doesn't mean shit won't happen before/after 👀

ANYWAY I'll leave you to make your own assumptions about our kiwi boy. All I'm saying is that sometimes characters write themselves into your heart and there's nothing you can do about it. Is it just me as an author having unhealthy attachments to my own creations? PROBABLY! You tell me!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cry about my fictional characters for the fifth time this week. It's only Tuesday. Send help.

xoxo 💋

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The morning hike with Chaewon was exactly what you needed—fresh air, quiet trails... No drama.

But of course, you can't have nice things in Kkangpae.

Not when you return to find V lounging on a log like some tragic hero while J-Hope patches up his split lip.

"What the hell happened here?"

You eye the scene, already getting a headache. The thorny scent of roses fills your lungs as V gives you what immediately recognize as a smug smile.

"Just a little disagreement." V's smile is all teeth despite his busted lip. "Jeon can get rather feisty when he wants to."

J-Hope just rolls his eyes, clearly done with V's bullshit. He hands you a sanitary napkin without looking up, too busy sorting through his medical supplies—which basically means please help me deal with this drama queen.

You crouch next to V, ignoring how his eyes track your movement like he's a cat and you're the bird he wants to catch. The napkin comes away bloody when you dab at his lip, and his body tenses slightly under your touch—barely noticeable if you weren't trained to pick up on these things.

"Careful now." His voice drops low, playful. "I might bite."

You don't miss a beat.

"You bite, you get no help." The words come out flat, unimpressed. "I'm not one of your fangirls, V."

His games might work on others, but you've seen enough of his thorny side to know better.

Those roses have teeth.

A low chuckle breaks the tension. J-Hope's back with his medical supplies, but V's still watching you—though now with something that might be respect.

Or whatever passes for respect in that thorny mind of his.

"You really had it coming this time." J-Hope clicks his tongue, cranky doctor mode fully activated as he settles back down. "Jeon isn't someone you poke for fun without expecting consequences."

"Me?" V's eyebrow shoots up, all wounded innocence. "I was just having a friendly chat. Who knew our brooding Chief still had some fight left in him?"

The act doesn't fool anyone—especially not J-Hope, who (you bet your ass) has been patching up the aftermath of V's friendly chats' for years.

"Friendly chat?" J-Hope scoffs, dabbing at V's lip with more force than strictly necessary. "You two always turn everything into a dick-measuring contest. One of these days someone's gonna end up with worse than a busted lip."

V leans toward you like he's sharing a secret, mischief written all over his features. "He's just worried he'll run out of medical supplies if we keep this up."

You expect J-Hope to snap back—he usually does when people get like this.

But he just sighs, shoulders heavy with a worry that feels too genuine for the Kkangpae's ruthless doctor.

"Or maybe I'm worried you'll end up with a split skull, dumbass."

It's weird, the way it dribbles from his lips—like actual concern.

Which is weird in a place like this, where caring too much can get you killed. But then again, J-Hope's always been different. Maybe that's why he's one of the few people V actually listens to.

Sometimes?

V's eyes meet yours, like he's either hunting for something or escaping whatever was swirling in the doctor's pupils. Though, as everything with V, it vanishes instantly behind that shark-like grin.

"Ah, Hobi, always looking out for me. What would I do without you?"

"Probably be lying in a ditch somewhere." J-Hope says it casually, but his snark feels less blunt now. 

He gives V's shoulder a quick pat—kinda saying 'you're patched up, now get out of my face.' V nods his thanks, but his attention is already sliding back to you. His gaze lingers a bit too long, assessing.

"You've got a steady hand," he drawls, and you know he's not just talking about your first aid skills.

Thorns prickle your skin.

"And you've got a death wish." You hand the bloody napkin back to J-Hope, keeping your voice flat.

Unimpressed.

V's laugh shatters in the quiet. "Oh, you're interesting. I like you."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" You arch an eyebrow at him. "Coming from someone who just got his ass handed to him by Jeon, I'm not sure how much that's worth."

His smile widens; ever so slightly. Like what you said made him feel something—bad or good, you really don't care, but it's like his vines are slowly creeping into your lungs.

You just sigh, shrug it off. It's not your problem.

You've got enough on your plate without getting caught up in whatever dick-measuring contest is going on between V and Jeon.

Your attention abruptly shifts to Takama, sitting cross-legged in the grass like some zen master on his coffee break. Despite looking perfectly relaxed with his can of coffee, you know better—the man's probably cataloguing every movement in a three-mile radius.

He's just that kind of observant. It's just how he is, what he does, that much is clear from your training sessions with him.

Persistent without being belligerent; consistent without being insistent.

It's weird seeing him in casual clothes. The navy sweater and white collar combo is a far cry from his usual tactical gear, making him look almost... normal. Like he could be anyone's slightly intimidating older brother instead of Jeon's deadly second-in-command. Even his loose jeans seem deliberately chosen for comfort rather than combat.

He doesn't move a muscle as you approach, eyes fixed on the horizon like his mind has found refuge among the spongy dunes skittering away in the sky.

Or maybe he's just really into his morning coffee.

You plop down beside him, the damp grass immediately soaking through your pants because of course it does.

"Peaceful morning, isn't it?"

You break the silence, knowing Takama won't. Man's got the conversation skills of a particularly stoic rock when he wants to.

There's something calming about his presence though.

Like he's the drizzle after the hurricane.

Plus, he probably won't try to murder anyone over breakfast. Unlike some people you could name.

"Peace is rare around here." The corner of Takama's mouth quirks up slightly. "Savor it while it lasts."

You settle into the comfortable silence, watching the horizon paint itself in morning colors. Next to Takama, even coffee breaks feel philosophical.

"You and V," he starts, offering you the can. "You get along?"

You grab it and take a sip, considering your answer. The coffee's gone lukewarm.

"Hmm."

Yeah that's your answer, because you don't really know what to reply. It's definitely not a yes, but you don't... hate him either?

"He's a wildcard, but I can handle him," is what you end up settling for.

What follows is Takama's laugh—quiet, understated like everything else about him.

"V is... unpredictable. But he's loyal to the gang, in his own way." He pauses, choosing words carefully. "Just watch your back. Testing people is how he entertains himself."

You pass the can back, watching him take another sip. The liquid works through a swallow down his throat, and his Adam's apple bobs slightly. His head tilts towards you when he notices you've gone silent.

"And Jeon? How do you find working with him?"

The question makes your skin prickle, and you know it's not because of how sudden it is—but because of something else, as well.

Images from last night force their way through your mind like a wiggling worm unwilling to let go—callouses on skin, that silver lip ring, the way he'd touched you like you might break.

You take your time answering, very aware that this is Jeon's right-hand man asking—and that your neck probably still has marks his mouth left behind.

But you're not about to tell Takama that.

"He's... intense." You focus on shredding a blade of grass, needing something to do with your hands. "But we kind of... get each other, I guess."

Takama finally looks at you, and fuck—there's way too much understanding in those gray eyes.

Because with V you have a noncommittal answer.

But you just said you get along with Jeon. Kinda.

He doesn't comment on it, and it makes sense—being Jeon's second means he probably sees more than most.

About how hard exactly it is to be in Jeon's circle. Not part of it, not even near—just hovering.

It's not easy, you know that much.

"Jeon respects strength," he says quietly, like he's sharing a secret. "Stand your ground, and you'll earn his respect."

A pause. Then he adds, hushedly:

"Maybe more."

Your pupils flicker between his, trying to parse whatever the hell he means—but nothing in there gives you a hint.

He simply smiles, getting up and helping you up too.

You both turn back to watch the camp wake up, the morning routine starting to buzz around you.

Someone's cursing about cold showers. Someone else is complaining about AD.

You take another sip of lukewarm coffee, letting the bitterness ground you. It's easier than thinking about what maybe more might mean, or why your stomach churns at the thought.

Besides, you've got enough on your plate just dealing with regular Jeon.

You don't need to add cryptic messages to that mess.

The peaceful morning doesn't last long—because this is Kkangpae you're talking about.

Moon's voice cuts through your post-gossip haze, drawing everyone to the center of the camp like a very formal shepherd. Some people look about as thrilled as you feel about being up this early.

"All right, everyone!" He's got that tone—the one that says 'this is mandatory fun and you're going to like it.' "For today's lunch, we're doing something different. Group bibimbap, but with a twist: you'll work in pairs."

A ripple of murmurs spreads through the crowd. You catch Takama's eye—he just raises an eyebrow like 'here we go again'.

"These pairings," Moon continues, all business in his long coat despite the casual setting, "are chosen to mix different divisions and personalities. It's about teamwork and learning from each other."

You barely hold back a snort. Trust Moon to turn lunch prep into a team-building exercise.

Your attention snaps back when he calls out, "Y/N, you're paired with JM. I expect great things from you two."

Well, that could've been worse. At least JM's not likely to stab you over vegetable chopping techniques.

When you reach him, he's already smiling that gentle smile that makes him look more like a kindergarten teacher than a gang's financial mastermind.

"Looks like we're a team." His voice matches his whole vibe—calm as a lake on a windless day. "Any ideas on what we should tackle?"

You're about to answer when a groan cuts through your chat with JM.

You turn to see AD looking like someone just deleted his gaming setup, while J-Hope's already got that 'done with this shit' smile plastered on his face.

"Bro, why the fuck am I always paired with your annoying ass?" AD slumps against a tree, all dramatic like the gremlin he is.

J-Hope just rolls his eyes. "Because Moon loves to torture me, that's why. Come on, let's just get this over with."

Your eyes inevitably roam around the clearing, taking in the other pairings.

Jeon and Chaewon—they acknowledge each other with matching professional nods, something like 'we respect each other but let's keep this strictly business' hovering over them.

Takama and Jessi make an oddly perfect pair, his zen energy somehow containing her wildfire spirit as they huddle together, already plotting.

V's got Yunjin trapped in what looks like his usual chaotic storytelling, though she seems to be holding her own—and then there's Eunchae and Sakura, who look like they're planning to turn lunch prep into some kind of competition.

Meanwhile, Kazuha's hanging onto Moon's every word like he's sharing the secrets of the universe instead of just bibimbap instructions.

"So." JM's gentle voice pulls you back. "Should we handle the veggies? I think we could make a great team in chopping and prepping them."

"Sounds good to me." You find yourself matching his easy smile. "Let's show them how it's done."

At least someone in this chaos circus knows how to be normal.

You follow JM to gather supplies, falling into an easy rhythm. His gentle energy is oddly reassuring, and makes even veggie prep feel zen.

Plus, he actually knows what he's doing, which is more than you can say for half the pairs around you.

Because AD's already whining about something while J-Hope ignores him completely.

Yeah; that's Kkangpae for you.

But then you catch sight of V with Yunjin and your stomach turns, why, you don't know. Poor Yunjin's holding her knife like she's never seen one before, eyes darting around nervously.

And its knives, so yeah, V swoops right in.

"Let me show you," he purrs, and fuck him for actually sounding smooth.

You see his hand sliding over hers, like he isn't the same person who had blood on his lip an hour ago.

"There's a rhythm to it, like a dance." You watch him press closer, caging Yunjin with his body while he guides the knife. "Feel the movement. It's about confidence, purpose."

"Like this?" Yunjin's voice is small, breathless.

"Exactly like that." He eases into it. "Every slice tells a story of precision and care. And you, Yunjin, have a knack for it."

You grip your own knife tighter, fighting the urge to stab those thorny vines right out of the air. He's charming, you'll give him that.

But you fear the sweet floral scent roses simply masks decaying waste underneath.

And he needs to stay the fuck away from Yunjin.

You can't help noticing how she melts under his attention, all shy smiles and batting eyelashes. Like a moth drawn to a particularly deadly flame.

"There, you're a pro now." V steps back with a wink.

"Thanks, V." Yunjin beams up at him. "I think I've got it from here."

A slight movement catches your eye—JM's knife has stopped mid-chop.

His gaze darts between V and Yunjin like he's watching a car crash in slow motion, and it's real subtle, but you catch the way his jaw tightens.

"JM," you keep your voice casual, "you seem a bit distracted. Everything okay?"

He snaps back to his vegetables, gentle smile sliding back. "Oh, it's nothing. Just... observing the dynamics. It's interesting to see how different personalities interact, don't you think?"

You nod, watching V circle Yunjin. "True. Especially with V. Makes you wonder what goes on behind that smile."

"Exactly." His smile is halfhearted at best. "Sometimes, the most cheerful faces hide the deepest stories."

The way he says it makes you wonder just how many of V's stories JM knows.

And how many of them keep him up at night.

You and JM fall into a comfortable rhythm again, just hearing AD complaining about something, Eunchae's bright laughter, the clatter of pots and pans.

Then—crash.

Your head snaps up, muscles tensing automatically. Old habits die hard in Kkangpae.

It's Chaewon.

She's standing frozen, an overturned pot at her feet, staring at one of Jessi's guys like she's seen a ghost. His hand hangs awkwardly in the air where it had brushed against hers. You can see her breathing speed up—tell-tale sign of panic she's never shown before.

JM's knife stills mid-chop. Before you can blink, he's already moving toward her.

Jessi's there too, quickly motioning for the guy to back off—and he does, looking confused and apologetic, but you notice how Chaewon's shoulders drop slightly once he's out of reach.

JM murmurs something to her, too low for you to hear (though you bet that gentle voice of his could probably talk down a rabid bear). Chaewon gives a tiny nod, but her knuckles are still white where she's gripping her sleeve.

When Jessi touches her shoulder, you catch that silent conversation between the three of them.

The kind that comes from knowing someone's demons intimately.

"Alright, everyone, back to work." Jessi shouts. "Nothing to see here. Let's keep the focus on the task at hand."

Everyone turns back to their tasks, but you don't miss how JM stays close to Chaewon, or how Jessi's eyes keep scanning the crowd like she's daring anyone to make this worse.

JM hovers near her for another minute before coming back to your chopping station, and when he does, he picks up his knife and starts slicing carrots like nothing's happened at all.

"Guess we all have our off days, huh?" You keep your voice light, casual. No pressure.

JM's knife stills for a moment. He doesn't look up.

"Everyone has ghosts they're running from." The words come out soft. "Some just hide them better than others."

You let the silence settle. There's an unspoken rule in the gang—you don't go digging in other people's graveyards unless they hand you the shovel first.

"I'm gonna wash up," you mutter, already heading for the makeshift sink, feeling like he needs some silence before being back to normal.

Behind you, JM's knife resumes its path against the cutting board.

You're shaking water off your hands when footsteps approach from behind. Months in Kkangpae have taught you to be alert even for something as mundane as washing up after veggie prep.

"So you do know how to clean up."

The low drawl sends heat crawling up your spine. You know that voice—and the smirk that goes with it—without having to turn around.

"Turns out, I'm full of surprises." You flick excess water in Jeon's direction, catching his dangerous half-smile when you glance over your shoulder.

His chuckle hits you right in the gut, deep and rich and —fuck—suddenly all you can think about is last night.

His hands, his mouth, the way he'd made you shatter.

"Surprising indeed." There's that smug tone again. "Especially since I recall someone being too fucked out to help with cleanup duty."

"Well," you drop your voice low, just for him, "if you hadn't made such a goddamn mess, there'd have been less to clean up."

Your body remembers how close you'd been—how you'd ground against each other like teenagers, desperate and needy.

How his cock had felt pressed against you, so close but not close enough because someone didn't bring protection.

The frustration from last night still burns under your skin, reminder of what could have been.

If he'd just been prepared...

Jeon steps closer, and—fuck—even after last night, his presence still makes your skin prickle.

"A mess, you say? The way I remember it, you were just as responsible for the chaos."

"Chaos?" You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as heat crawls up your neck. "Don't flatter yourself, Jeon. It was... mild disarray at best."

His grin widens, and you hate how your eyes keep tracking that stupid lip piercing.

"Mild disarray? You were panting like you'd run through every back alley in Seoul."

You scoff, trying not to remember how he'd made you shake, how his hands had felt mapping every inch of you.

"Breathless, maybe. But let's not blow it out of proportion."

"Hah." His eyes narrow. "You've got a sharp tongue. But we both know—"

A shout from across the camp makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his for a split second before you step apart, smooth as shadows. Professional. Like you weren't just thinking about climbing him like a tree.

Again.

You turn away, finally letting out that breath you'd been holding.

The banter gets you hot under the collar but fuck if you don't want more. Not that you'll admit that.

Even if part of you is already plotting round two.

This time with actual protection. Because seriously.

"Anyway," his voice cuts through your thoughts, "we should get back to work. Long day ahead."

"Right." You nod, and then go right back to prepping veggies.

Yeah. This is going to be a very long day indeed.

The smell of bibimbap hits different after spending all morning chopping vegetables next to JM's weirdly zen energy.

And yup—everyone's gathering around the portable tables, looking stupidly proud of their contributions like they didn't just spend half the morning complaining about Moon's team-building exercise.

You grab a spot next to Yunjin, who's already halfway through telling you about her latest drama obsession; eyes practically sparkling as she waves her chopsticks around.

"No but listen—the main lead thinks his brother died in that fire, right?" She leans in close, pink hair falling in her face. "But then in episode sixteen we find out he's actually been alive this whole time! Living in China!"

You nearly choke on your rice. "That's the most unrealistic plot twist I've ever—"

"Mind if I join?" Takama's calm voice slices through Yunjin's enthusiastic plot summary; slight smile that makes him look more like a monk than Jeon's deadly second-in-command.

"Pull up a chair." You scoot over to make room. "Yunjin's educating me on the finer points of melodrama."

"Ah." His eyes crinkle as he settles in. "The ones where everyone's secretly related and nobody stays dead?"

"Exactly!" Yunjin beams. "Like this one where the brooding CEO's got a secret relationship—"

"Should've fought harder for the meat distribution," you murmur, poking at your mostly vegetable bibimbap.

Before you can finish sighing about your protein deficiency, Takama's chopsticks appear in your line of sight, depositing a generous portion of beef onto your plate.

"Here. I prefer vegetables anyway."

"Liar." But you're already mixing the meat into your rice, trying not to look too pleased. "Thanks."

Yunjin pouts at that, surely expecting some meat too (even when her plate shows basically 0 vegetables anyway). You kick her under the table, and she almost bounces with a chuckle.

"So, V's actually a really good teacher," she says dreamily, pushing her rice around. "Did you know he used to work in a restaurant?"

You cough.

V's "restaurant" experience probably involved more knife-work than cooking.

"Is that so?" Takama asks, slightly puzzled.

"Mhm!" She sighs, all starry-eyed. "And he's so patient. The way he showed me how to hold the knife—"

"Speaking of knives," Takama cuts in smoothly, "your technique has improved, Y/N. Been practicing?"

You're grateful for the subject change. Watching Yunjin moon over V is like watching a butterfly land on a Venus flytrap.

"Yeah, well. Can't let the Seduction Division down, right?"

His smile is small but genuine. "Right."

Movement then catches your eye—Chaewon's heading your way, black bob bouncing with each step. She smiles when she spots you, but you don't miss how she falters slightly when she notices Takama. Her eyes dart between him and the empty space beside you, calculating.

For a second, you think she might turn around.

But then she simply strides over like she owns the place, sliding into the spot next to you.

You don't miss how she angles her body away from Takama, though.

"What's got everyone looking so serious?" She bumps your shoulder playfully. "Don't tell me Yunjin's got you all hooked on her dramas too."

"Not all of us can be as cultured as Yunjin." You grin as Yunjin pretends to be offended. "We were just discussing the finer points of V's... cooking techniques."

That makes Yunjin blush, but Chaewon's eyes sharpen. You catch that protective glint—the same one she gets whenever any of the male members get too close to her division.

"Oh?" Her voice is light, but there's steel underneath. "And how did you find our resident psychopath's teaching methods?"

"Come on, he was really patient!" Yunjin pipes up. "And his hands were so—"

"Speaking of hands," Chaewon interjects quickly, "I heard there was quite the incident at morning coffee. Something about Jeon's right hook meeting V's face?"

Trust Chaewon to steer the conversation away from V's charms while gathering intel in the same breath. Sometimes you forget she's your Chief for a reason.

Heels on grass make your eyes stutter behind Chaewon's silhouette.

It's Jessi; obviously—who claims the spot next to Takama, all long red hair and confident energy.

She's probably the only person who can make eating bibimbap look like a power move.

"Well, well." She waves her chopsticks at your little group. "What's this about dramas? Please tell me someone's finally calling out how unrealistic those chaebol storylines are."

"We were discussing layers," you explain, watching her pile kimchi onto her rice with the same precision she probably uses to plan weapons shipments. "You know, how people aren't always what they seem."

"Like how our fearless Chief here—" she angles her head towards Chaewon, "—pretends to be all business, but I caught her crying over cat videos last week?"

"That was one time." Chaewon tries to glare but can't quite hide her smile. "And you promised not to tell."

"Please." Jessi snorts. "Everyone knows you're a softie under all that badassery. Remember when you threatened to shoot that guy who made Eunchae cry?"

"He deserved it." Chaewon's voice goes flat, protective instincts flashing. "Nobody messes with my girls."

"And that's exactly what we mean," Yunjin pipes up, somehow making even this observation sound sweet. "Everyone's got different sides. Like how Jessi acts tough but always saves the last strawberry milk for AD."

"Oi—" Jessi points her chopsticks at Yunjin threateningly, but there's no malice in it. "Just for that, you're testing all the new rifles when we get back to the castle. Someone needs to make sure they don't jam."

Something about the easiness of the conversation makes something unfurl in your chest.

It's weird seeing these deadly women just... being friends. Sharing lunch and inside jokes like they aren't some of the most dangerous people in Seoul.

But then again, maybe that's exactly what Yunjin meant about layers.

"Sooo," Jessi prompts, "who wants to share their deep dark secrets? Come on, don't be shy."

"Real subtle, Joo." Chaewon rolls her eyes, but you catch that tiny smile she always gets around Jessi. "What's next, trust falls?"

"I'd let you fall." Jessi winks, making Chaewon snort into her rice.

Takama, who's been quiet this whole time, surprises everyone by speaking up. "Sometimes the secrets we keep aren't about trust. Sometimes they're about protection."

"Like how we all pretend AD doesn't secretly feed the stray cats behind the castle?" Yunjin singsongs then.

That breaks the tension, sending ripples of laughter around the group.

Even Takama cracks a smile.

"Or how Jessi acts tough but cried during that dog commercial last week?" Chaewon dodges the grape Jessi throws at her head.

"That dog was reunited with its family," Jessi hisses, but she's fighting back a grin. "Forgive me for having a heart."

"Yeah, buried somewhere under those nine inch heels."

You smile at that, and you note how the sun is high over head now, warming skin through the trees.

You should probably get back to work—those intel reports won't file themselves. But for now, you let yourself enjoy this moment of peace.

Even gang members need lunch breaks sometimes.

Dodgeball is usually fun. Keyword: usually—because when it's among deadly people... competitiveness is too light of a word.

You're in the middle of debating some strategy with Yunjin when Jeon's presence immediately freezes the whole camp. One second you're planning how to take down AD's team (he might be a tech genius but his aim is shit), and the next—

"Meeting. Council of 9, now."

Jeon's voice is calm, as usual. But it's precise, blunt in a way that makes your hackles rise. His face gives nothing away—typical—but something in his posture screams urgent.

The Council members share quick looks before following him into the trees. Moon's already at his side, glasses catching the sunlight. Chaewon squeezes your shoulder as she passes, and Jessi winks at Yunjin, but neither stops to explain.

Just like that, your cozy little camping trip turns into a war room—playful energy from moments ago gone, leaving behind the familiar sensation that comes with being in a criminal organization.

"Damn." Yunjin drops onto the bench beside you, pink hair falling in her face. "Even on a camping trip, we can't escape the threats."

Your little lunch group now feels weirdly empty without Jessi's loud energy and Chaewon's dry comments. You catch yourself staring at the path where they disappeared, like maybe if you look hard enough you'll develop x-ray vision.

So much for that epic dodgeball tournament you'd planned. Although honestly? Getting hit with rubber balls suddenly seems like the least of your problems.

"It's just how things work around here." Takama shrugs, wiping sweat from his shaved head.

Of course the dodgeball game's been put on hold, everyone too distracted by the Council's sudden disappearance to focus.

"Hey, Takemichi!" Eunchae bounces over, still flushed from running around. "Any idea what's going on? You're like, Jeon's right hand and all."

Takama's eye twitches at the nickname, but he doesn't comment on it. "No clue. But Jeon doesn't call meetings without good reason. Especially not during planned activities."

Your eyes drift to where the Council members vanished into the trees. It's odd seeing Jeon actually interact with people—the man's about as social as a brick wall. Even J-Hope, who he supposedly tolerates, barely gets more than grunts out of him most days. That whole don't-fuck-with-me hurricane aura of his keeps everyone at a safe distance.

And yet.

You'd fucked him.

Well, kinda.

Heat crawls up your neck as you mentally reminisce about last night.

Pride mingles with something else as you remember that untouchable Chief's face when he came all over your belly.

Focus, dumbass. Now isn't the time to replay your greatest hits. If Jeon's gathering the Council in the middle of fucking dodgeball, something's definitely wrong.

"Do you think it's..." Yunjin chews her lip, lowering her voice. "MDF?"

The mention of Myung-dong Faction makes everyone's faces go pale.

"Hard to say." Takama's voice drops to barely above a whisper. "But we did just wreck their trafficking ring. Hanjun's gone now. They're not known for letting that kind of thing slide."

You share a look with Yunjin and Eunchae. You remember Hanjun from your last mission—the way he'd crumpled when Kkangpae was done with him.

The way his whole operation had fallen apart like a house of cards.

Sakura's usually bright face is serious as she crouches next to you. "If it's MDF, we're fucked."

"They've been too quiet." Kazuha runs a hand through her wine-colored hair, eyes scanning the treeline like she expects assassins to materialize. "That's not their style. Not after what we did to their golden boy."

And she's right, isn't she? MDF isn't known for their forgive-and-forget attitude. Their silence these past weeks has been... unsettling. Like holding your breath underwater, knowing you'll have to surface eventually.

"Whatever it is, we need to be ready." Eunchae sighs. "Can't let our guard down. Not even here."

"We need to be united now more than ever." Takama's voice rumbles low as he scans the treeline."Division only makes us vulnerable, they might aim for that."

And he's right; because Kkangpae's strength isn't just in its firepower—it's in moments like this, when everyone's got each other's backs.

"Whatever the Council needs," you say, meaning it. "We've got their six."

The group falls quiet, the forgotten dodgeball lying between you like some sad metaphor for your interrupted normalcy. Somewhere in the distance, a bird calls. You almost miss it under the sound of your heart pounding.

A rustle in the bushes makes you lean back.

Though it's just J-Hope, looking way too serious for someone who was laughing at AD's failed dodgeball throws ten minutes ago.

"They need you." His eyes find yours, steady and unreadable. "Jeon asked for you specifically."

You share a quick look with Takama, and he's wearing the same exact puzzled expression as you.

"Me? Why would he—"

J-Hope just shakes his head. Great. Because being summoned by the dude you almost fucked last night during a secret Council meeting isn't complicated enough.

But you don't really have much choice, so you trail behind J-Hope like a kid being called to the principal's office, mind racing faster than your heart.

What the actual fuck could Jeon want? And why during the middle of dodgeball, of all things?

The Council's little forest hideaway comes into view, and suddenly you've got nine pairs of eyes drilling into you.

Great. Just great. Nothing like being stared at by the most dangerous people in Seoul while you're in workout clothes and probably still red-faced from almost getting beaned by AD's wild throws.

Jeon stands like a statue among them, and he speaks immediately upon seeing you.

"We have a situation that needs your input."

No greeting, no explanation, just straight to the point. Pure Jeon. You'd roll your eyes if you weren't so aware of every Council member watching you.

"Remember your first mission?" Chaewon continues. "The women we rescued? You were the only one who actually saw them in that room."

Of course you remember—hard not to, even if you wish you wouldn't.

That cramped, dark room with its rusty bars and stale air. Women huddled in corners like broken birds, some too afraid to even look up when you'd entered.

Your first real taste of what the Seduction Division actually does.

Not the glamorous spy shit you'd imagined, but the ugly, necessary work of saving people from monsters.

"Remember what any of the women looked like?" Chaewon presses.

You try to remember, but the thing that comes first is the smell of fear and desperation—thick enough to choke on.

Then it's their faces. Burned into your brain. And then... hers.

"There was one girl," you start carefully, watching the Council's reactions. "Couldn't have been more than eighteen. Skinny thing, but her eyes..."

You pause, searching for the right words.

"Even in that shithole, she was... I don't know. Like she was just waiting for a chance to burn the whole place down."

You catch the tiny shift in Jessi's jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her weapon.

The air feels like a forest fire waiting to happen.

"Dark reddish-brown hair," you continue, the details getting clearer as you speak. "Matted to hell, but you could tell it was beautiful once. And the way she held herself..."

"That's enough." Jeon interrupts you. "Your recollection could prove useful. We believe that girl is connected to one of our own. This isn't some random MDF hit."

Your stomach drops. Because shit—that... That changes everything.

MDF might be brutal, but they're not stupid.

Kidnapping someone connected to Kkangpae? That's not just an attack—it's a message.

A very personal message.

You watch the Council's faces, trying to read between the lines.

If MDF knows enough to target someone specific, how much else do they know? How deep have they dug into everyone's past?

The thought makes your skin crawl.

"Now we know this is personal." Chaewon's voice is ice-cold, all business. "The question is, how do we respond?"

"We hit back." Jessi's voice cracks like a whip, raw and broken. "Show those fuckers what happens when you mess with Kkangpae."

J-Hope reaches for her shoulder, ever the voice of reason. "I know you want blood, Jessi. But an all-out war will only get innocent people killed."

Jessi jerks away from his touch, but you see how her hands shake. 

"I should've been there," she whispers, more to herself than anyone else. "I should never have left them alone."

The pain in her voice makes your chest tight; you've never seen Jessi like this—like she's barely holding herself together.

"Why don't we just storm their headquarters and slaughter them all?" V (who's been conspicuously quiet until now) raises his voice.

The guy is just leaning back against a tree, playing with a butterfly knife like he thinks he's the Joker or something.

"Picture it." His smile grows wider, more unhinged. "Their precious hideout painted red, bodies everywhere. We could string up their leaders—or what's left of them—as a warning."

JM gives him one look—one that somehow manages to pierce through V's psychotic haze. Like he's the only person besides RM who can actually rein him in when he gets like this.

V slumps back with an exaggerated pout, thorny aura receding slightly. The switch from bloodthirsty to playful is so fast it gives you whiplash.

"As entertaining as that sounds," JM's voice is steady, like a calm lake washing away V's chaos, "we need precision here. Not a bloodbath."

"You never let me have fun." V whines like a kid denied candy instead of mass murder. "But fine, we'll be civilized."

JM turns back to the Council. "Please continue. V's just... working through some things. He understands the need for balance."

Jeon's face gives nothing away, but you notice how his jaw tightens. Having to share space with V is bad enough—having to listen to his murder fantasies is clearly testing what little patience he has left.

"As I was saying..." Jeon continues.

JM gives V another one of those looks and V slumps against the tree.

The thorny scent of roses fades to something more bearable, though you can tell he's just waiting for another chance to suggest mass murder.

"I might have a better idea." AD clears his throat. "A bloodbath would be satisfying, sure, but we need intel first. Something clean and quiet that gives us some advantage."

You watch him run a hand through his messy blonde hair, thinking three steps ahead while looking like he just rolled out of bed.

"We know where their hideout is. Send in a small team, two people max. Get their data, their plans, their weak spots." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Information is better than bullets right now."

The Council members exchange looks. Even V stops fidgeting with his knife. You catch Jeon's shoulders relaxing slightly—he knows a good plan when he hears one.

"Stealth does play to our strengths," Jeon admits, and his eyes flick to you for a split second. "Who did you have in mind?"

AD jerks his chin toward you.

"She's perfect for this. Hanjun's well acquainted with Flower now, but Y/N? She was only there for the takedown. He never had time to report back about her or the other girls. But between all of them," he adds, "she's the only one who got to see all the girls."

Suddenly you've got nine of Seoul's most dangerous criminals staring at you. But you meet Jeon's gaze head-on, refusing to flinch.

Finally—a chance to prove yourself.

And maybe get some answers about what's really going on with MDF.

"She's just an ensign." JM mumbles. "She's gonna need backup."

The Chiefs exchange looks, probably running through a mental list of who they could trust not to fuck this up. Your heart's still pounding from being called in, from learning about this mission that could change everything.

"Jeon will lead this operation." RM's voice leaves no room for argument. Like he's announcing the weather, except the weather is your hookup being assigned as your partner.

Amazing, really love that for you.

"You're picking him for stealth?" V's voice goes high with indignation, like someone just insulted his knife collection. "I'm literally the Chief of Stealth Assassinations. What the actual fuck?"

Thorns prickle the air, sharp with offense. You definitely catch Jeon's tiny smirk—he's enjoying V's tantrum way too much.

"Jeon has the discipline this requires." RM's tone could freeze hell itself. "We can't afford your... creative interpretations of orders right now."

V opens his mouth—probably to suggest murdering everyone involved, knowing him—but JM slaps a hand over it. The look V gives him could kill a lesser man, but JM just raises an eyebrow.

"This mission's success is crucial." RM continues like V isn't plotting JM's death with his eyes. "We need strategy, not chaos."

You watch Jeon's face carefully. His expression gives nothing away, but you just know he's thinking the same thing you are:

How the fuck are you two supposed to focus on a stealth mission when you can barely keep your hands off each other?

"Come on," V's voice drags after getting rid of JM's hand, "we all remember how well these two work together. Like gasoline and a lit match. Either they'll kill each other or fuck like rabbits. Not ideal for a stealth op, eh?"

JM smacks his shoulder, but V just grins wider. Your face burns as Jeon goes rigid beside you, like a gathering strength.

If looks could kill, V would be six feet under from the glare Jeon's sending him.

You stare very intently at a patch of grass, fighting the urge to squirm, because V has no idea how close to home that "fucking like rabbits" comment hits.

Or maybe he does—you can never tell what that psycho actually knows.

"Enough." JM sighs. "RM's guidance is sound. Jeon, you're our best strategic mind. Tactical is probably our best approach right now."

Jeon's jaw works for a moment before he gives a sharp nod. "Understood. I'll lead the operation."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Stuck on a stealth mission with the guy you've secretly hooked up with, while his psychotic sworn enemy watches and makes sex jokes.

Just another day in Kkangpae.

"For now," RM's redirects the conversation swiftly, "let's focus on the task at hand. This camping trip was meant to build unity and trust. We can't lose sight of that."

Unity and trust.

Right.

Because nothing says team bonding like sending you and the guy you're dying to have sex with to infiltrate enemy territory while pretending you've never seen each other naked.

"There will be time later to prepare for the mission." He adds. "But while we're here, I expect everyone's full commitment to this team-building exercise."

Jeon surprises you by actually looking... chastened? as he gives RM a short nod. "You're right. My priorities were misplaced. I apologize for the disruption."

And that's... New. You've never heard Jeon apologize for anything.

But then again, RM's probably the only person in Seoul who could make him bow down. The amount of respect Jeon has for him is almost an entity of its own.

"No need to apologize." RM's stern expression softens slightly. "Let's refocus together on strengthening our bonds as a crew."

More team bonding. Because that's exactly what you need right now... bonding,̶ ̶o̶r̶ b̶o̶n̶i̶n̶g̶?̶

You give Jeon one last look before V's voice cuts through, all manic energy as usual.

"Last one back has to clean everyone's dishes!"

And then he just... takes off running like the psychopath he is, thorns receding with him. Because of course he'd turn this into a competition.

"Oh, fuck no!" Jessi kicks off her heels, already sprinting after him in bare feet. "I am not cleaning after his ass."

Chaewon and JM share this look—probably something like 'we're both too dignified for this shit' passing between them before they're running too, probably realizing nobody wants to risk V winning anything.

"How childish." J-Hope rolls his eyes, but AD's already got that gleam he gets when someone issues a challenge.

"Childish?" AD's grin is pure evil. "I bet I could eat enough for ten people. Give you something real nice to clean."

"You little shit—" J-Hope takes off after him. "Get back here!"

You glance back at Jeon and RM, both still walking like they're above such peasant activities.

But fuck it—you're already sweaty from dodgeball, might as well commit to the chaos.

"Think I'll take AD's strategy." You flash Jeon your sweetest smile. "Eat everything in sight, let someone else deal with cleanup."

You're running before he can reply, laughter bubbling up.

And then, merely a few second later, you hear his steady footsteps turn into something faster.

Looks like even the mighty Chief can't resist a challenge.

The campsite comes into view through the trees, and you pick up your pace.

You jog into the clearing, lungs burning, only to find V and RM already there.

What the actualfuck?

"How did RM beat us?" The words come out between gasps.

The man runs a criminal empire in designer suits, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be able to outrun anyone.

V just grins that Cheshire cat smile of his and then, Jessi, Chaewon and JM stumble in next, all tangled together and cackling like teenagers.

"JM's face when I almost tripped him—" Jessi wheezes, red hair wild from running.

Everyone else filters in gradually, catching their breath and comparing notes on who cheated (definitely V).

But oddly enough, there's no sign (or sound) of J-Hope or AD.

Then—

"You absolute fucking cockwomble, let go before I rearrange your face!"

"Not happening, you lil' bitch. I'm not cleaning your blood off the floor again!"

You turn to find J-Hope and AD crashing through the underbrush like drunk bears, locked in what has to be the world's most undignified wrestling match. AD's blonde hair is full of leaves, and J-Hope's pristine turtleneck is covered in dirt.

Seoul's most dangerous gang, ladies and gentlemen.

Truly terrifying.

"You wanna fucking go, asshole?" AD thrashes like a feral cat, trying to land a hit on J-Hope. "I'll rip out your spine and use it as a fucking ethernet cable!"

But J-Hope's got him locked down, using his height advantage like the bastard he is. AD might be scrappy, but the doctor's got experience wrestling patients into submission.

"You need to get out of this unscathed first, you dumbass—"

"Then I'll download your consciousness into a punching bag," AD snarls, still fighting. "Have you getting hit for eternity, you piece of shit!"

Their little death match stumbles closer to camp. J-Hope's got AD in a headlock now, ignoring the increasingly creative threats being spewed at his face.

"I'll be patching you up after this, you psychotic gremlin." J-Hope finally slams AD into the dirt, probably enjoying this way too much. "Maybe I'll sew a live rat in your stomach. Let it chew its way out through your organs."

They keep wrestling, but it's getting pathetic—like watching two drunk uncles fight at a family barbecue. Both of them are red-faced and panting, shirts half-ripped from trying to hold each other back.

You can't help noticing they look wrecked—covered in sweat and leaves.

Actually...

"They must've been holding each other back the whole way here." You snort.

No wonder they're last. These idiots literally spent the entire race trying to murder each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" V's voice rings out like a demented game show host. "Our esteemed winners, graceful as ever!"

J-Hope and AD freeze mid-choke hold, finally noticing their audience.

The look of pure horror on their faces is priceless.

"Dish duty it is, boys!" Jessi's grin is absolutely feral.

AD shoves J-Hope off like an angry cat, but they're both too winded from their pathetic wrestling match to do more than hurl insults at each other.

"This is all your fucking fault!" AD jabs a finger at J-Hope's chest, looking about as threatening as a wet Pomeranian. "If you hadn't grabbed me—"

"My fault?" J-Hope's voice gets higher. "Big words from someone shaped like a fun-sized candy bar!"

"Say that again, you overgrown fucking giraffe!" AD tries to lunge but stumbles, still panting. "I fucking dare you!"

RM steps in before they can start round two of the world's most embarrassing fight.

"That's enough, you two. We all enjoyed the show, but it's time to work."

They both shut up immediately—even AD knows better than to test RM's patience. But the glares they shoot each other could probably melt steel.

"Can't believe I'm stuck with your ass for cleanup duty," AD grumbles, brushing leaves out of his blonde hair.

"Trust me, I'd rather perform surgery blindfolded. But maybe next time you'll think twice before dragging me down with you."

"As if I need help being slow from someone who runs like a drunk giraffe."

Their bickering fades as they head back to camp, still shoving each other like kindergarteners fighting over the last juice box.

Well. At least you'll enjoy a show during dinner time tonight.

One would think dinner time would be dulled down now, after the Council meeting earlier.

But nope—gang members are scattered around the fires like this is some post apocalypse scavenging situation.

You can't help watching V with Yunjin. He's leaning in close and probably whispering some bullshit about knives being romantic or whatever gets him going.

And Yunjin—sweet, perceptive Yunjin who usually sees right through everyone's bullshit—is eating it up. She's doing that thing where she plays with her hair, pink strands twisting around her finger while she giggles at whatever murder joke V's telling.

You snort into your food, because you just don't get what's it with these two.

The weirdest part? Even knowing what V's capable of (the rumors about his "artistic approach" to killing make your skin crawl), you kind of get why people fall for his act.

He's got that whole dangerous charm thing down to an art.

"Hey stranger!" Eunchae drops onto the bench beside you, nearly knocking over your drink. Sakura slides in more gracefully across from you, because someone in your division has to have coordination.

"What was the super secret meeting about? You went in looking normal and came out all..." Eunchae waves her chopsticks vaguely. "You know. Intense."

"Classified." You shrug, trying not to think about what that meeting means for you and a certain hurricane-aura'd Chief. "Above your pay grade."

"Ugh, you're no fun." She slumps dramatically against your shoulder. "I wish I could join the Council just to know all the juicy stuff."

"We're here if you need to talk," Sakura adds quietly, and fuck—sometimes you forget how perceptive your division can be.

"Thanks." You bump Eunchae's shoulder, warmth blooming in your chest. These idiots might be professional honey traps, but they're your idiots. "I mean it."

You go back to your food, half-listening to Eunchae's story about some mark who thought cryptocurrency was foreplay. But your eyes keep drifting to V and Yunjin.

What's your friendly neighborhood psychopath plotting this time?

However, the first drops of rain quickly hit your food like tiny bullets. Within seconds, the drizzle turns into a full-blown downpour because of courseit does.

Nothing like a surprise shower to end your deeply suspicious dinner observations.

"Oh, come on." Eunchae snatches up her plate, already running for cover, chestnut hair plastered to her face by the time she makes it three steps.

Your eyes snap to where V still has Yunjin trapped in conversation. They're both getting soaked but Yunjin's still hanging on his every word, pink hair turning darker in the rain.

"Yunjin!" You pitch your voice to carry over the rain. "Unless you want to catch pneumonia, might want to wrap it up!"

She blinks like she's coming out of a trance, finally noticing she's halfway to drowned. The spell breaks—thank fuck—and she hurries over to you, gathering her stuff with slightly shaky hands.

"Thanks for the save." Her voice is quiet, almost sheepish. "Got a bit... distracted."

"Yeah, no shit." You grab her arm, steering her toward your tent. "Let's get inside before we both melt."

You dodge through the chaos of gang members running for shelter, curses mixing with laughter. Someone—probably AD—slips in a mud puddle and lets out a string of creative profanity that would make a sailor blush.

The relative safety of your tent feels like crossing a finish line. The rain hammers against the canvas, but at least you're dry.

Well. Drier.

The rain doesn't let up for hours, turning the campsite into something out of a moody indie film. But inside your tent? It's like a sleepover bubble—wrapped up in cozy blankets and the glow from Yunjin's phone where some poor actor is having his third dramatic breakdown of the episode.

Yunjin's using your stomach as a pillow, pink hair splayed across your hoodie while she decimates the bag of chips between you. Every few minutes her hand dives in without looking, too focused on whatever absurd plot twist is happening now.

"This one's actually decent," she murmurs, smiling at the screen where someone's probably discovering their evil twin or something.

"If you say so." You can't help grinning as the male lead clutches his chest like he's having a heart attack over a text message. "These writers must be on something wild. Like, who comes up with this shit?"

Her giggle vibrates against your stomach.

"That's why they're fun! You never know what's coming next." She tilts her head back to look at you. "Kind of like living here, right? Never a dull moment in Kkangpae."

"God, don't jinx it." But you're laughing too because she's not wrong. Your life has definitely taken some drama-worthy turns lately. "Though I hope we're at least more realistic than that."

You both fall into easy conversation, trading comments about the show and today's chaos. When the male lead starts laying it on thick with the female lead, you see your chance. Time to figure out what the hell V was playing at earlier with all that knife teaching.

"So." You poke Yunjin's side with your toe, aiming for casual. "What's with you and V today? The whole knife lesson thing seemed... weird."

Yunjin doesn't look away from her drama. Of course she doesn't.

"I mean, have you seen him?" She sighs dreamily. "He's like a walking thirst trap. Those hands..."

"Oh my god." You stare down at her pink head in disbelief. "You'd actually fuck him? Like, actually actually?"

She finally tears her eyes from the screen, twisting to grin up at you with zero shame. "Why not? Life's too short not to ride at least one psychopath, right?"

The silence stretches.

"What?" She raises an eyebrow at your horror. "You wouldn't?"

"Jesus fuck no." You mime gagging. "You know he probably has some weird murder kink. Like, he'd probably want to chase you through a haunted house with a knife while dramatic music plays."

"Haunt play?" Her eyes go wide  before she breaks into giggles. "That's... weirdly specific. But don't knock it till you try it, right?"

"Yun." You roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. "He'd probably set up a whole haunted house just to get his rocks off."

"Okay but..." Yunjin props herself up on her elbows. "Haunted house but make it sexy? That's kind of genius."

"You're actually insane." You shove her shoulder, both of you dissolving into laughter. "I swear to god, if I ever hear spooky music from his tent—"

"You'll what, call the ghost police?"

Her laughter shakes your whole body, bright and infectious, and the small space of the tent makes this ridiculous conversation feel somehow safer, more intimate.

Just two girls discussing their terrible taste in men while hiding from a storm.

Even if one of those men happens to be Seoul's most notorious psychopath.

Yunjin flops back down, using your stomach as a pillow again. The drama's still playing on her phone, but you're too busy thinking about V's games to focus on whatever chaebol drama is unfolding now.

"For now," she sighs dreamily, "I'll stick to living through these ridiculous romances. Much safer than the real thing, right?"

You hum in agreement, watching raindrops race down the tent's surface.

"Sounds smart. But if you do decide to test out V's haunted house kink..." You poke her side. "I want every single detail. For science."

"Deal." Her giggle vibrates against your stomach. "But only if you keep saving me from his 'passionate teaching moments'. My knife skills are fine, thanks."

"Always."

The word comes out softer than intended, but you mean it. In Kkangpae, real friendship is rare as fuck. People either want to kill you, fuck you, or use you—sometimes all three.

But Yunjin? She's different.

And all the while; the rain keeps drumming steadily against the canvas, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and green.

In here, none of that exists.

Not V's thorny games, not Jeon's hurricane, not the Council's secret meetings.

Just you and your best friend, safe and warm while the storm rages on.

For now, anyway. Tomorrow's another story.

goal: 400 notes

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[wishyoudwell]

Theres often talk about Legends trauma and how he tries to distance from his emotions, how his experiences have affected him, and in turn I also like to think about how Ravio operates with his own trauma. This might sound pretty silly but I think both of them are equally as terrible at dealing with their issues. Ravio is still Links counterpart after all, and I'm more than sure he's gone through a fair share of things, especially hailing from Lorule. There's just differences in how they handle it. While Legend is often written to be repressing his trauma and keeping himself tight under lock and key, Ravio seems to be pretty casual about mentioning bad happenings. It kinda feels as if Ravio would make light of his own trauma, hardships or bad experiences before quickly brushing them off/playing them off as jokes. He sort of does this ingame, after all? The way he says it makes you unable to take him seriously, but when you really think about what he's saying...

"Finally, no more sleeping in the wild. Tough world out there, you know?" "But—! But—! But aren't we buddies? You'd kick me out? Into that cruel, cruel world out there? Please? You don't know what it's like trying to get some shut-eye with all those creepy-crawlies!"

You could argue that he's only saying this to garner sympathy and pity from Link. But since he escaped Lorule without knowing if he could ever even return....yeahhh, I think there's a lot of truth here. Casually hinting at how he he had to sleep outside while worrying about being left defenseless to monsters... I don't think Ravio really lies (much). He's just pretty good at omitting information. He's also really good at playing a character. Ravio also says some pretty weird and mildly concerning stuff once he's "in retirement" and being all philosophical on Links floor.

"I always thought sleeping all day would be fun. But now I think I'd miss breakfast and lunch, right? Yeah, I've got a new outlook on life, and it's all thanks to you, Mr. Hero!"

"For a long time, I believed that if you put your ear to the ground, you'd hear the world's heart beating. That the world just goes on living, whether you were there or not. Weird, right? And sorta sad. So I've been listening here for a while, and you know the only heart I've heard? Mine! I couldn't be happier. Ha! I've got a new outlook on life, and it's all thanks to you, Mr. Hero!"

"You know, whenever I used to just lounge around... I would think how I'm just a tiny speck in a great, big world. And I still believe that I'm a teeny, tiny, little speck in a world that's SO much bigger than I ever thought! But even a speck can change the world if he puts his heart into it. I've got a new outlook on life, and it's all thanks to you, Mr. Hero!"

"I've never really had the time to take a lot of naps before. The world looks so different from here! Sometimes just changing your perspective is the key to... well, to everything! I've got a new outlook on life, and it's all thanks to you, Mr. Hero!"

"When I look at you, Mr. Hero, I now realize that just about anything is possible if you put heart into it. Ha! Seems like it's about time for me to decide where to put MY heart!"

It's a lot of fun, trying to imagine what the future holds. Ha! I've got a new outlook on life, and it's all thanks to you, Mr. Hero!

One thing that does become pretty evident though is how Links presence and the land of Hyrule itself seems to have had a really positive and healthy influence on Ravio and his psyche. He appears to have been a lot more somber before, but meeting Link and experiencing his courage firsthand has helped Ravio grow too, to the point he was able to develop a happier, positive outlook on life. Meanwhile you could argue that Legends become more bitter overtime on his outlook on life the more adventures he has to go through (lol). Hmm...yeah, I didn't really have anywhere specific I was going with this. It's just another interesting parallel to me how Legends personality and portrayal would clash with his counterparts. They're interesting to me, they compliment and play off each other well...they process and experience life so similarly yet differently...

[enwoso]

A lovie request where she has a terrible fan encounter maybe she’s watching the game with her uncle Luca and when they try to get down to alessia at the end lovie gets shoved and falls over and is being crowded and she’s so scared and calling out for someone to help her but the fans are more excited because Leah/ alessia are signing things at the barrier

back off | alessia russo x child!reader

just a little something something to say thank you for 800 followers!!! i love and appreciate you all so much. forehead kisses for you all xoxo

grumpy masterlist

game day was always busy day for you but always a fun day nevertheless.

you would always travel to the stadium with your mummy and then you would find either your uncle luca or nonna depending on who was coming to watch. then you could enjoy the match in the stands and it also gave alessia the chance to do her full pre-match prep without the worry of you being around.

always cheering for your mummy with your jersey on and her number on your back, you being the loudest one there. screaming louder than anyone when your mummy scored. always being your mummy's number one fan.

the match had now ended against sweden and now all you wanted was to see your mummy, but alessia was doing her rounds around the pitch. stopping and signing shirts and posters as well as taking photo for fans at the barrier. along with the rest of the lionesses.

alessia's name being called out in all direction. you though for this game where sat in the friends and family box at the top of wembley. your mummy looking like a small figure on the pitch.

you had been patiently waiting at the stairs that would take you all the way down to the barrier and to your mummy but you were being told to wait by your uncle luca. and you were bored of waiting.

“we go on now luca?” you asked with a sweet smile as he hummed looking down towards the queues at the barriers all with people pushing and shoving to get the the front. luca obviously not wanting to take you down their if it wasn’t safe.

“just give it a couple minutes then we can go, okay?” luca said as he took another glance down the bottom as a little huff came from you. you just wanted to see your mummy.

this is why games at the smaller grounds were your favourite, you didn’t have to wait for people to scatter as your mummy would be straight over lifting you over the barrier and into the warmth of her arms. you on your own little excited ramble about the game you’d just watched.

you were beginning to get really impatient, if there was one thing you didn’t like and that was waiting.

“we go now” you asked again dragging your words out as a small sigh came from luca as he nodded slightly.

“yes, but slowly there’s still a lot of people down there!” he pointed to the many fans holding shirts and banners in extended arms as well as screaming your mummy’s name.

you replied with a small okay, jumping out your seat with your teddy wrapped under your arms as you were finally allowed to begin to walk down the steps.

you started off slowly but with each step you picked up the pace knowing your were getting closer to seeing your mummy. “tiny, slow down…” luca trailed off but it was no use you were to far in front now.

alessia had spotted you making your way down the steps, your little excited wave as you got closer to her. but alessia made the silly mistake of waving back drawing some unwanted attention your way as you were mere inches from the barrier.

"oh my god it's alessia daughter!"

"can she sign this for me!"

"can i get a photo with her!"

fans started to crowd around your small frame as you got a little scared at all the unknown faces now looking at you, you a lot smaller so you had no one to hide behind as alessia tried her best to get as close to you seeing the crowds around you.

the fans starting to get a little bit more pushy invading your personal space as you began to get more and more overwhelmed.

fans were pushing you, trying to get closer to you but also the barrier as alessia was getting closer. "luca" you whined but it was no use as you didn’t know where he was so he wasn’t able to stop the few hundred fans pushing your small figure around.

"help" you whined a little louder, as the crowds around you got smaller. men in bright yellow jackets pushing them away and yelling for the unknown faces to ‘back off’ in a deep and scary voice as you were scooped into your mummy’s arms.

your mummy pulling you tightly into her chest as small sniffles came from you. you still being a little overwhelmed from the interaction.

"it's okay lovie, mummy's got you" alessia cooed as you sunk into the safety of her arms, the fans shouting her name as she said a quick few words to her brother, luca nodding at her words before she quickly waved to the fans.

walking back into the centre of the pitch, it was a little quieter. you calming down as alessia kissed the top of your head. "you okay now lovie? what happened?" your mummy asked as you frowned.

"people shouting my name and your name! and then they start pushing me" you said with a sad smile and tears still prominent in your eyes as alessia nodded as she began to explain how some fans just wanted things to be signed and that they probably didn't mean to push you.

"me no like fans" you huffed with crossed arms and a frown on your face. a small laugh coming from alessia with a knowing hum as she placed a kiss to your cheek walking towards her teammates.

[ddragonqueenn]

To Take Care of You

Word count: 1,280

Summary: People fade from his life as fast as crops when out of season, when confronted with the fragile mortality of those he knows now, Aventurine panics. (Or, you pass out in front of him and get nursed back to health. Badly, but helped all the same.)

Tags: Mostly fluff, but it's got a sad air to it, Aventurine carries the misery with him always, the tragedy is his appeal, reader is like an irate cat who doesn't want to be held, Aventurine is trying to be silly about how much he wants to hold reader, you're not sly bitch we know you're down bad

Notes: my beta reader said it was a fun and light read, but still goes into the emotional details that I love about him. So. Have fun

Would you consider yourself a sickly person? Not by any means, no… Sure, there's an ache when you first awake, and oftentimes your joints disagree with exertion- disagree loudly. With pain. But overall, you don't suffer from anything but being lazy, truly. The tired fog is because you yearn for bed (not from a breakfast skipped days in a row. And a lunch skipped… some days you pass on dinner, too. Definitely not), sympathy should seldom be given to those who refuse to better themselves.

Aventurine chatters as you pick at your meal, paid for by the chirping peacock across. He invited you out for a bite to eat, saying he got a bonus at work and wants to spoil his dearest friend.

…You feel just a little faint, but it's brushed off easy with a bite, “...Really? Pearl voted to keep you?” You comment; something about a trial by the other Stonehearts that Aventurine had to go through after his work trip.

“Yeah- I was shocked too!” He nods, shifting up his collar. The conversation continues, Aventurine's work stories make interesting topics- though, sometimes he must be lying, an Emanator of Nihility? THEY don't gaze at anyone…

Your legs feel strangely weak as you stand, a sudden daze blurring up your vision as the table and chair become convenient supports for your stumbling body- Aventurine guides you back to the chair, hand resting on your shoulder, “Hey- hey, friend, don't stand if you can't. How about this-” the concern fades to an salesman-like voice, though his worry remains an undertone, “I could carry you back to my car! Bridal style, nice and romantic!” He teases.

You shake your head- and quickly regret the decision. Strange, dizziness like this shouldn't last too long, and you even ate something today! But, you should be in good health, therefore, you push his hand away and force yourself to stand, “I can walk-”

A statement which is quickly proven false as you eat dirt. Or… concrete. Wood? It's hard to tell what you're now laying against, but it's certainly something more solid than how you feel. Or, how you would feel, if your consciousness didn't slip as fast as your feet.

Aventurine stares down at your limp (dead?) body, frozen with a stupid smile before he crouches down, “...Friend?” He asks, mumbling a quiet apology as he presses two fingers to your pulse, the tension leaving his shoulders as he feels a consistent and steady flow of blood just under. He sighs, standing up and tapping his foot, “Oh… what to do with you, dearest troublemaker…?”

Opting to pick you up, as he suggested earlier, Aventurine leans down and scoops you into his arms, carrying you out to his car.

He stands over your bed. Sits down. Stands. Paces. Stands. He can't hold still, worry makes him sick, but he's worried over you being sick. You're hot to the touch; Aventurine replaces the towel he's set over your forehead (ignoring the fact that he did so only 3 minutes ago, his hands need to do something), wiping off his hands before he checks his phone, rereading Ratio's advice.

His eyes scan over the words from the doctor, lowering his phone to look between the text and your limp, ill body. Aventurine grits his teeth- you've been ill, but you haven't been eating. You passed out from the lack of food, a simple cold like yours won't make a person faint, but both are mixing together to make your condition much worse.

“...Skipping meals,” the hypocrite mutters to himself, “What were you thinking…” He shakes his head, standing up to go cook something.

You wake up to the smell of… soup. Soup, an utter mountain of blankets, and the walls of your room. It's a struggle to sit up, and the second you do Aventurine practically pushes you down, “No no no- stay down, it's not good for you,” he chides, “You know what is ideal for you? Liquids, salt, and actually eating a proper meal.”

You stare at him for a minute, “...How am I supposed to eat while lying down?”

…Aventurine blinks. He reaches over to tug down the blankets with a huff, “Touché. But after you finish, lie right back down- and don't forget to drink water, and stay under all of those blankets. I'm going to leave and buy some medicine for your cold.”

You swallow a spoonful of soup, chewing on a softened potato, “...I'm not dying,” you deadpan.

“You don't know that-” He toys with his gloves, tugging them down over his hands, “A common cold is much more deadly than anyone assumes. Finish that, your body needs it.”

You resent, not quite in a fighting mood. Picking through the soup, it seems to be some pre-packaged beef broth with a mix of potatoes, carrots, chicken. No noodles, though. Granted, the only kind of noodle in the house is spaghetti. You take another spoonful as Aventurine closes the door behind him.

You could've sworn you saw his hand shake for a moment.

Aventurine drops a bag near comically filled with medicines. He hands you most of the strange remedies, even child’s cough syrup and regular cough syrup- which you try to push off, before hacking up some of your own phlegm.

Sorting through his medicine, you end up taking a painkiller, the aforementioned cough syrup, and he manages to talk you into an antihistamine. Aventurine smiles, leaning back and cleaning his hands like he just finished with hard labor, “So, feeling better?”

“I just took them.” You lean over to grab your water bottle, taking another sip. Aventurine practically deflates, crossing his arms, before leaning forward to fuss with the way the blankets sit over your lap.

He brushes a gloved hand down your hair, smoothing it down, “You can't fault me for wanting my dearest friend to recover fast, can you? You wound my poor, aching heart.” He closes his eyes, clutching his own chest as though his heart were truly damaged by words alone.

“I don't need you to take care of me,” Your hands tense over the metal, head turning to the side, away from his hand, “I'll recover on my own. I don't need someone to dote on me.”

Aventurine slides his hand down to the opposite shoulder, pushing you back down to the bed. He leans down, pressing his face against your neck, down to your collar, “But isn't it nice? I bought out a whole pharmacy for you- well, not quite… But still, I'm treating you like royalty!”

Your hands push against his shoulders, “I don't want pampering, I don't want a pile of medicine I'll never use, I don't want to be treated like a hapless maiden in a tower!”

To your surprise, your pushing gets Aventurine to lift up. His expression is something you've never seen- on him that is- upset and conflicted. He blinks, stutters, stares, deciding to lean down once again, this time pressing his face to your stomach. Your strength fails you as you can barely push him off, his hands squeeze you before suddenly moving to a hug instead.

“...Just let me take care of you,” Aventurine pleads. It's weak, his voice is pathetic and small, you can feel his left hand shake as he grasps you like you'll fade into dust otherwise, “Please.”

He reaches up, interlocking fingers and- you don't have the heart to decline him further. You lightly squeeze his hand, “...Fine.”

You've recovered in due time, though… You stare at the very entertaining message from the doctor, containing an image of a poor, sickly Aventurine and text informing you that he had passed out.

[spiderlilywritings]

Ronin Beaufort Boyfriend Headcanons

Trigger Warnings: mentions of blood, murder, gore

Well. You're in for a wild ride with Ronin Beaufort as your lover. He's not a green flag by any means, but he cares and genuinely loves you, even if he shows it in twisted ways sometimes. (Hearts drawn in blood, maybe giving you an aorta, sending pictures of his gruesome murders in #killer_shit with the caption "this for You, baby" and oh would you look at that, it's the guy that's been harassing you yesterday—)

Never runs out of nicknames for you. Will probably come up with the cheesiest/sappiest nickname just to see your reaction. It cracks him up. ("Baby. Sweetheart. Darling. Pookie. Sweet apple crumble pop with strawberries—")

If you own a vehicle like a car or a motorcycle, he's your go-to mechanic. He'll take your money and maybe a little bit extra later. ("Aww, don't give me that look, darlin'. I just wanted a kiss 's all. Hahaha!") Shows off a little bit of that muscle if you hang around while he's working. His sweetheart's there, gotta impress them right? (And if you're the type to get embarassed easily, it's more fun for him.)

Speaking of vehicles, I'm not sure if Ronin owns one, but if you do, why not take your little Devil for a late night drive? I think he'll enjoy them. Just you and him, enjoying the night air, letting the scenery pass by.

We've already seen it in the games; he's perceptive and if there's something troubling you, he'll know. He's all ears if you wanna talk about it. Or if you don't, he might think of a way to get you to open up. It's not healthy to bottle everything up after all. He's had to deal with his own issues and being stuck in your own head can be... a lot.

Sometimes, you may have impromptu late night talks with Ronin. Trading secrets and all that. Sorting out some feelings and traumas of the past. Those talks can get heavy but things always feel a bit lighter at the end. That's good, isn't it?

He's supportive. He lets you do your own thing, lets you enjoy yourself and indulge in what you love. As long as you take care of yourself too. He might even join you. ("Aren't you a cutie with that smile on your face. Come onnnnnn, show me more, baby.")

I think he'd like those silly couple shirts. The ones with lines like one shirt has "If lost, return to the bastard" and the other is "The bastard" Or just matching things in general. Maybe you want matching plushies, or jewelry, etc. He's down for it.

Learning first aid is recommended if you haven't already. At least, you'd know what to do when Ronin comes to you injured. Victims don't just lay down and wait for their fate. Of course they want to live and some will literally fight for their lives. Ronin keeps himself in shape, but some injuries are just unavoidable. He doesn't like seeing your worried face, so he's quick to ease your worries with his usual bravado.

Horror movie nights are a given. And if you're the type to scare easily (ironic since you're with a serial killer), prepare for some light teasing. Here's a not-so-secret though: Ronin loves it when you cling to him. He likes being able to feel you. Whether it's small instances like your hands brushing against his to you outright hanging onto him like a koala bear. Make him feel your warmth, that you're there. That you'll always be there. (Not. Not like— well, technically they're still— but not there. Not here. Not anymore. Just a memory now that will always haunt him. They left his heart bleeding. And then, an  "Angel" patched it up. He still bleeds a little. But it's bearable. And now. Now, you—)

Tick... tick... tick...

The sheets rustle. The clock continues to tick. Ronin hears your sleepy little murmurs as you frolicked in dreamland.

He chuckles, one of his hands moving to play with a lock of your hair. The sight of you curled up on his bed, in his damn shirt, "Darlin', if this is your way of killin' me slowly, it's working. Juuust a little."

In response, you unconsciously snuggle into his chest. Really now.

Sleeping so peacefully with a serial killer? Maybe he got rid of your sense of self preservation; maybe got some screws loose in that pretty little head of yours.

Ronin pulls you closer.

This was nice. Makes him remember those times when it was easier. As easy as it can get back in Angelwood anyway.

He left that place behind, danced in hell's flames like the Devil he is, letting rot and decay follow him. He didn't mind. Let 'em haunt him till the day he croaks.

When he closes his own eyes, he sees Ther; a reminder of what he had. Of what he lost. Feels like they'll always haunt him too. There, but not there. A spirit? An illusion? No. Maybe just that lingering love he's always going to feel for his childhood best friend.

Ther's gone.

After Ther, came Maria. Maria. Sweet, sweet Saint Maria helped him heal and move on.

And now he's got another angel in his arms. Ronin thinks that's hysterical. The Devil attracts angels it seems like. Wings and all. Letting them decay till those feathers fall and the wings are nothing but bone. It's like giving the middle finger to the good ol' god those old fashioned folks at Angelwood worshipped.

How's that for blasphemy?

[23victoria]

Bottass Calendar or Bottass Naked?!

f1 grid x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, talks of naked bodies

authors note: i so wish it was christmas so this could fit the theme more but i still had so much fun writing this!! anon🤍 thank you so much for the request!!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! 🤍

want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

1k celebration f1 masterlist

Lewis

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Lewis: laughs "Maybe I'll make one just for you."

Y/N: "Omg, I would love that! Just make it funny."

Lewis: grinning "I'll make sure it's a masterpiece. Maybe I'll pose with Roscoe."

Y/N: "That sounds perfect! Can you imagine Roscoe in a tiny Santa hat?"

Lewis: "That would be hilarious. I'll get creative. Maybe some racing gear too."

Y/N: "I would fucking love that! I can't wait to see it!"

Max

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Max: frowns "I don't know if I feel happy about you liking another man being naked."

Y/N: teasingly "Don't worry, Max. You're still my favorite."

Max: sighs "I suppose it's just a calendar, but I might need to make my own to compete."

Y/N: laughs "You? Posing for a calendar? That would be something!"

Max: "Why not? I could show off my muscles. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Y/N: "I definitely wouldn't complain. It would be fun to see you out of your racing suit."

Max: smirking "Challenge accepted, then."

Charles

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Charles: smiles awkwardly "I guess it's... nice? But I'd prefer if you admired my photos instead."

Y/N: "Oh, Charles, you know I do!"

Charles: teasing "Maybe I should do a calendar too. What do you think?"

Y/N: "I'd be your biggest fan! You could do something artistic, like in the style of Monaco."

Charles: "With the beautiful scenery and classic cars? I like that idea."

Y/N: "And you in stylish outfits, of course. It would be perfect."

Charles: chuckling "You've got my creative juices flowing now."

Lando

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Lando: pouts playfully "No, you're only supposed to like me naked!"

Y/N: laughs "Lando, you're too funny."

Lando: "I'm serious! What if I made my own calendar? Would you like that better?"

Y/N: "Of course I would! You'd have to make it super goofy, though."

Lando: "Goofy? I can do that. Maybe some funny costumes and silly poses."

Y/N: "That sounds amazing. I'd love to see you having fun with it."

Lando: "Alright, challenge accepted. I'll make sure it's the best calendar ever."

Oscar

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Oscar: bursts out laughing "I can't believe you got that as a gift!"

Y/N: grinning "It's definitely a memorable present!"

Oscar: "I don't think I could ever pose like that. Too embarrassing."

Y/N: "I bet you'd look great, though. Maybe a tasteful one?"

Oscar: "Maybe if I had a few drinks first. But seriously, it's hilarious."

Y/N: "It is! Imagine if we all made one. It would be a hit."

Oscar: "That would be something. We'd have the best-selling calendar of all time."

Y/N: "With you in it, definitely!"

Carlos

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Carlos: smirking "I don't know if I should be happy or jealous."

Y/N: teasing "Why, Carlos? Feeling a bit competitive?"

Carlos: "Well, if you like those photos so much, maybe I should make my own calendar."

Y/N: "I'd love that! You could do something adventurous, like your travels."

Carlos: "With my car and some dramatic landscapes? That would be cool."

Y/N: "Yes! And some action shots. You'd look amazing."

Carlos: grinning "Alright, I'll think about it. You always have the best ideas."

Jenson

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Jenson: raises an eyebrow "Well, this is unexpected."

Y/N: laughs "It's quite a surprise, isn't it?"

Jenson: "I don't know if I should be amused or concerned."

Y/N: "Oh, Jenson, it's just for fun. You know you're my favorite."

Jenson: "Maybe I should make a comeback with a calendar of my own."

Y/N: "I'd love to see that. You could do something classy, like a vintage theme."

Jenson: "Vintage racing? That could be interesting. Alright, you've convinced me."

Sebastian

Y/N: opens the gift and sees Valtteri's naked calendar "Oh wow, this is amazing! He looks incredible in these pictures!"

Sebastian: chill "I like it. He looks good."

Y/N: "Really? You're not jealous?"

Sebastian: laughs "No, I'm secure enough to appreciate good photography."

Y/N: "You're the best, Seb. Always so supportive."

Sebastian: "Maybe I should make one too. Something environmentally themed."

Y/N: "That would be perfect! You could use it to raise awareness."

Sebastian: "Exactly. A fun project with a purpose. I'm in."

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[theconstantsidekick]

Sad and Funny

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader (future), Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader (past), Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Angst? I think?

Summary: Bucky gets an unexpected call on a random Tuesday night, asking him to come to a bar and be the designated driver for Y/n Stark... the woman whose family he murdered? Yeah, that one. But she used to be his best pal's best girl, so he can't not show up, right?

(This takes place before the events of  Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static. However, it can be read as a stand-alone piece. But it’s fun. I promise.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Near Alcoholism, Mentions of Past Traumas, Grief, Self Deprecation, Self Hate, just an overall sad time tbh.

a/n: I read some destiel fic about dude a crying about dude be to dude c and this idea just sprung up.

Bucky Barnes, The Boyfriend (other one-shots) | The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static | Static: Get, Set, Glitch | Static Verse Masterlist

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I’m—I’m looking for—a girl? She’s apparently really drunk, looks like an Avenger?”

“Sergeant Barnes,” a voice calls out to him from the end of the bar. “This way!”

With a hushed thanks to the bartender he’d been talking to, he makes his way through the bar.

“Thanks for coming, Sergeant Barnes,” the guy puts out his hand for him to shake.

Bucky takes it. “Murdock, right?” He searches his brain for the full name. “Matt Murdock? The lawyer?”

The guy—Murdock, smiles. “Yes. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances considering the last time, but this is as good as it gets for a guy in my line of work.” He seems very sincere, like he actually is very happy to meet Bucky at a shady little bar in Hell’s Kitchen. And what does Bucky know? Maybe he is. 

“Yeah,” Bucky replies in a non-reply. But Murdock doesn’t seem to mind, and well, no one really should. Bucky’s mind is elsewhere. “I—I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what I’m doing here.”

Murdock fidgets, fixing his red glasses while his smile falters, only a little. “She’s—uh—” his lips curve up again”—pretty out of it,” he points behind himself, at the table. “I didn’t think I’d be very capable at handling that situation given… my predicament.” Murdock nods at the walking-stick in his hand. And, well, yeah. Fair enough. “So, she asked me to call you.”

“Why?”

Murdock stills for a second, gripping the handle of his walking stick with both hands. “Don’t you think that’s a question better posed to her?” 

Well, yeah. 

He can’t fucking ask her, though. Can he?

But Murdock doesn’t give him the chance to counter. “So, can I count on you?”

“What?” Bucky’s so fucking lost right now.

“Can I count on you?” He repeats. “To get her home safe?”

Oh, shit! Yeah. “Yes… Yes, of course.”

Murdock hands him a napkin, “Great! That’s her address and her keys are in her pocket.” Bucky nods, still very lost. But Murdock smiles at him again, “Thank you so much for doing this. I have an arraignment early in the morning, so I gotta be on my way. I’m really sorry for dumping her on you like this.”

“It’s—it’s no problem.”

He nods then, smile still intact. “Thanks again, Sergeant.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, not completely registering what’s going on. Murdock takes the opportunity to walk past him, and make his way towards the door.

Bucky’s intently staring down at the napkin he’s just been handed and he can’t help from wondering… did Murdock write it down? He couldn’t have, obviously. So, does that mean some random person in this bar just knows her address now? Should Bucky be worried about that? But then again, he’s gotten his ass handed to him on a platter enough times to know, it would be frankly, silly to take her on. However, the world has gone to shit lately, so maybe—

“For what it’s worth,” Murdock calls out, halfway to the door, “she seemed quite—content when you agreed to come.”

Bucky’s left speechless.

“Take care, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Yeah. See you around, Murdock.” Oh fuck.

The moment the words are out of his lips, he knows he’s fucked up. He’s fumbled—hard. He winces and his hand slowly comes up to clasp his mouth in pure embarrassment. 

Mudrock pauses at the door, head falling. 

Bucky’s thanking all the Gods above for his super hearing right about now, cause he can hear Murdock chuckling at Bucky’s horrifying fumble. 

Before he can apologise, Murdock’s already out the door.

He sends out a silent prayer cum apology to the universe, and adds this to his never ending fuck ups.

Trying to shake off the embarrassment, with measured, slow movements, he takes a seat on the table, opposite the woman who’d apparently asked him here.

“Y/n?” 

She’s sitting—if he can call it that—with her head on the cold, hard table. There’s a slice of lemon in her mouth that’s sticking out and her hand is gripping onto her liquor filled glass like someone might steal it. 

She looks like she just conked out mid sentence, and fell face first onto the table. 

He tries again, “Hey, Y/n?” No response. 

He doesn't want to jerk her awake, but it doesn’t seem like he has a choice anymore. 

“Y/n?” He gently touches her elbow. And motherfucker! She’s up in an instant.

The first thing she does the moment she’s up is spit out the slice of lime from her mouth and down her entire drink in one go. 

Once she’s done, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, slamming the glass on the table. “Tess!”

Who the fuck is—

“What do you want?” The bartender from before shouts back.

“Another drink—for me and tall, dark and brooding over here,” Y/n replies, pointing at Bucky. 

“I already told you, you’re cut off!” Tess, the bartender, throws back from behind the bar, as she continues to work.

“You can’t cut me off, Tess! I’m an Avenger! I saved the world! You can’t cut me off! Them’s the rules!” Y/n argues. Bucky can clearly smell the liquor on her, he thinks he could probably do that even without his enhanced sense of smell. But her competence doesn’t seem all that hindered because all of that made very clear sense. And sounded borderline logical too. You save the world, you get to drink however much you want? Seems like a fair bargain to Bucky. 

“Not in this bar!” Clearly it doesn’t seem fair to Tess.

Y/n huffs, deflates. “Fine,” she gives in. “I’ll take a look at the refrigerator in the back, tomorrow—when I’m sober, if you give me and my roguishly handsome comrade here another round. How about that?” Bucky’s entire body stops functioning. But Y/n either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. “What say, Tess?”

“There’s something wrong with the lights in the office too—”

“I’ll look over the entire bar’s electrical grid.”

“... One last round and then you’re done.”

Y/n rejoices like she’s won a war. Clapping her hands, she shouts in excitement. “You’ve got yourself a deal, sweets.” And then she turns to him, “What will you have?”

Bucky’s been rebooting so far, so instead of saying anything competent he just makes a noise that sounds something like, ‘What?’

“The drink? What’s your poison?”

“Uh, no. I—I’m good.”

She rolls her eyes, annoyed. “Come on, man! Just have a drink.”

“I’m supposed to be your designated driver, wouldn’t it be pretty irresponsible to drink?” Bucky shifts nervously and shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

But she doesn’t think his excuse is anywhere near valid. “You’re a super soldier, dude. One drink won’t even touch you. Just—gimme some company, alright?” She huffs, “Please?”

He swallows thickly. “Whiskey,” he tells Tess. “On the rocks.”

The bartender nods, “Two whiskeys on the rocks, coming up.”

The bar is fairly free of commotion, if you discount Y/n Stark’s antics. It’s a cosy little joint. Bucky must have walked past it a million times without paying any attention to it before. But now that he’s here, he can see why someone like her might enjoy it. It’s dimly lit, there’s a jukebox in  the other corner, playing songs that Bucky knows for once in his life and all the patrons are on the older side, and completely unbothered by the presence of two Avengers amongst them. 

Maybe he’ll come back here some other time. Neat place, nice bartender and no-one ogling him, the place meets all his criterias.

“Oh!” Y/n exclaims suddenly. “Where are my manners?” She sits up straighter. “Sergeant Barnes, thank you for coming. I won’t pretend that I’m not surprised to see you, but thankful regardless.”

“Yeah,” he says, slowly, brows knitting together. “Don’t—don’t mention it.” He can’t help it, he has to ask, “Sorry but, are you drunk? I really can’t tell.”

“Oh, I’m plastered,” she answers casually, grabbing another slice of lemon from a shot glass full of them. She begins nibbling at it.

“How’d you manage that? Isn’t your metabolism like mine? It would’ve taken you at least a couple bottle to even—”

She looks at him dead straight, “I own half of Stark Enterprises, and I’ve been drinking like a tankard since I first tasted freedom—back in ‘53.”

Fair enough, he thinks to himself. “So, you’re saying you’ve got practice.”

“And then some.”

Tess brings their drinks just then, and places a glass each in front of them.

Both of them quickly express thanks.

She raises her glass, he follows too, because what the hell else is he supposed to do?

“To Steve Rogers, the lying piece of shit.”

Oh.

She clicks her glass with his and takes a sip.

Bucky just cocks his head in mild disagreement and sets his drink back down on the table. “That’s what we’re drinking to?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, “Why? You got a problem?”

He sighs, “I understand why you’re upset with him, but he’s still my best friend.”

“Why?”

He bites his lip, trying to control whatever emotions are stirring inside him.

But Y/n Stark isn’t one to back down. “He left you,” she says. “Just like he left me—except yours is worse.” She smiles, and it’s the most cutting and painful thing Bucky’s seen in a while. “End of the line, he’d said.” Snorting, she adds, “Guess his line ended a lot sooner than yours, huh?” Bucky’s jaw clenches. And she must notice the shift in his demeanor instantly—which he has to admit is a feat considering her claims of being plastered. Her hand comes up to lips, covering them, like a child caught saying a cuss word. “That was—that was mean. I’m sorry—I wasn’t… It wasn’t a jab at you—really. It was,” she stumbles over her words, finally seeming drunk. “It was—it was meant for him. Not you.” She shakes her head, sadness clear in her motions. “Not you.” She raises her glass again then, “To life,” she begins, “that’s mostly sad, but sometimes—like in this moment—funny.”

Bucky’s not sure what to do next, so he decides to do the obvious thing. He raises his glass, clicks it with her and takes a drink. “Funny?” He asks, “How?”

“It’s tuesday night, and I’m so fucking hammered that I had to call up the one guy who hates me more than I hate myself to come drive me home.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Don’t know about you, but that’s pretty fucking funny in my book.”

He’s more lost now than when he walked into this joint. “Hate—I don’t hate you? Why would I—Why would I hate you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” She asks him like it’s the most obvious thing. But it’s not. And she must see that to him it is not obvious at all, because then she explains, “I am the reason why he left, pal.” She points to herself so hard, Bucky wants to pull her hand away,  “I am the reason why he left you. Why don’t you hate me?”

His heart breaks. 

“He—he didn’t leave because of you, Y/n. You—you have to know that!”

“Didn’t he?” She challenges with her head cocked. “If I could make him love me enough, then he never would’ve left—he never would’ve felt out of place in this world, in this time. If—” She lets out a hollow, broken laugh. “If I could make him love me enough, he would’ve stayed.” She closes her eyes briefly, before opening them to face him again. “I’m your culprit, Sergeant. If I had been… enough then you wouldn’t have had to navigate this shitty new world all by your lonesome.”

Fucking hell, Steve.

“That—that’s not true! He loved you.” She begins to protest, but Bucky cuts her off. “I knew that guy since before he could stand up long enough to pick a fight, and I am telling you—he loved you.” He really did. Steve really did love her, completely and utterly. “He just needed—” he sits back. “He needed to go live the life he lost. It—it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t because you weren’t enough… He loved you, more than you know.”

“Well, he had a funny way of showing it,” she remarks, feigning ease. Taking another swig from her glass, she says, “But that’s just life, isn’t it? Sad and funny—sad that he left, funny that he maybe loved me even as he did it.” Bucky has to look away. “Still, at least he gave me this.” When he looks up she’s pointing at him. “Another curiously morose, and remarkably hilarious moment.”

“I want to ask, but I’m afraid to,” Bucky admits to her, with a curious look over his glass.

She holds up her finger, “Think about it, Sergeant Barnes—ex-Hydra assassin,” she points to him, “ex-Hydra assassin,” she points to herself. And then slowly she spreads her arms, motioning to the entire place, “United States of America, baby!”

Bucky can’t help it. He shakes his head with a hint of a smile.

“Can you imagine? If Armin Zola saw this?” She asks, clearly finding this all very, very funny. “Do you think, when he was creating us—the Winter Soldier and Static—that he could’ve even imagined a scenario where I would call you up on a random Tuesday night to be my designated driver?” She begins laughing. “Can you—can you imagine if someone were to tell him that this would happen? Do you—” she’s having a hard time getting her words out, with all the giggling, “Do you think he still would have created us? Hydra’s two most lethal weapons, sharing a drink in Hell’s Kitchen?” She cannot physically control herself, cannot stop the laugh that bursts out of her.

And Bucky’s gotta admit, that is pretty damn funny.

Sad and funny.

“Come on, you think it’s funny too,” she accuses. “I can see in your eyes, Barnes.”

“Fine,” he says, his smile blooming as he takes a sip. “It is kinda funny.”

“I remember,” she begins in between her laughs, “Peggy used to tell me Red Skull said that he could see the future, in the Tesseract, and man! That’s a load of shit, cause if he actually could, and he knew this would be the outcome, I don’t think the man would have experimented on himself and turned, you know?”

“Red?” Bucky supplies, smiling wide now.

“Red!” She shakes her head, still chuckling. “He was so fucking stupid. I mean—all of Hydra’s fucking stupid.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Bucky counters, adjusting in his seat.

“No, seriously, consider this for a second!” All of a sudden, she’s all excited and pumped. She takes another sip of her drink before she starts, “They were fucking useless, man. I mean, name one great plan of world domination that worked out for them?” 

Bucky—he stops. “What—that’s—What?”

She puts her hand up and begins counting, “Started a war, lost the war because of a kid from Brooklyn who juiced himself up with a serum they could never really recreate.” Well, okay. Bucky can concede to that. “Infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., schemed for decades, only to be found out, by the same fucking guy.” Alright, that’s fair, too, he supposes. “Created Babayaga, a fucking ghost story,” she motions to him, “but then lost him too, cause they were dumb enough to send him on a mission to encounter his best bud—who, again, same fucking guy.” In retrospect, that does seem very stupid on their part. “Decided to commit mass genocide again, tried to kill 7 milliion people but got taken down by a guy in an eye-patch, a dude with wings, an ex-Widow, a fucking ex-Hydra employee,” meaning her, “and the same fucking guy!” 

Put it like that?

Bucky’s not sure what to say.

“You have to be a special kind of incompetent to screw up that bad, and be defeated by the same fucking guy that many times,” she surmises. “I mean, did they ever even actually accomplish anything?”

“I think you’re forgetting the countless assassinations they orchestrated,” he counters, leaving the ‘and we pulled off’ part silent.

She meets him eye to eye then, “Sure, we killed a bunch of people for them but—I’m gonna talk about the one thing we don’t talk about, now. I’m sorry, but it’s important to the point I’m making here—take Howard and Maria, for instance. The Winter Soldier killed them and stole the last of the serum, sure. And then what? They made more Winter Soldiers that were killed in their sleep by Helmut fucking Zemo?”

Bucky’s having a hard time breathing with the crushing weight of his guilt burning a hole through chest, but Y/n seems distinctly unaffected by it.

“None of the shit they did, or made us do, ever really panned out,” she summarizes, easily. Like she isn’t technically stating that her family died for nothing, that he killed them for nothing.

“Just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean there wasn’t any damage done, Y/n. That’s not how it works,” he argues, with a curt tone.

She must notice it too, “I understand you must think I’m inferring that your… misery was all for naught. Which, I suppose I am, but I hope you can also see that if I make that statement with respect to you, it also reflects upon me.”

“Let me get this straight, what you’re saying is—we both got the shit end of the stick, years of torture and guilt, for absolutely nothing?” He leans forward, elbows on the table.

“Yes,” she answers simply.

“And that—that’s fine with you?”

She shrugs. “Isn’t all misery meaningless?” She throws back, not impolitely. “Furthermore, if there were a meaning behind our misery, would it be any less miserable?”

Well, fuck.

Bucky’s at a loss for words.

Because while it pisses him off to no end, she isn’t wrong. If there had been a reason behind Hydra’s years long torture of him, would that have made any of it better? Would it really have mattered to him? Would it have changed anything other than the fact that he’d feel far more guilty about it? And if there really isn’t any meaning to it, does it make it hurt any less?

While she’s clearly sympathetic to Bucky’s spiralling inner monologue, she doesn’t seem all that affected by it as she looks over at Tess and wordlessly asks for the bill. “Look, pain is pain is pain. Meaningful or not makes no difference. My comment wasn’t on either of ours, though. I just meant—if one has the kind of power and resources Hydra did, I’d like to think they’d do something a little more significant with it.”

It takes a second for Bucky to readjust to her casual tone and even more casual words. And that’s not even taking his spiral into account. So, his answer comes out after a short pause, “I thought you already did.” She cocks his brow at him in question. “You founded S.H.I.E.L.D.”

She tilts her head, impressed. “Most people don’t know that.”

He shrugs, “I’m not exactly most people.”

She smiles, giving in. 

Tess comes to them with a check, and Y/n pays it leaving a hefty tip.

“I may have been a founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D.” she says, once Tess has left, “but you forget that I also worked for them as an agent.” Both of them begin getting up from their seats. “I went on just as many missions for them, as I did for Hydra, if not more… But knowing what we know now, I couldn’t tell you where the orders really came from.” With that she puts on her jacket in one clean motion and walks past Bucky towards the exit.

When he catches up to her, she’s outside, staring at his bike.

“That yours?” She asks.

He pulls the keys out of his pocket. “Yeah…” His eyes fall to the ground as he adds, “Steve gave it to me.”

“Figures,” she says with a hint of annoyance. “It’s a Harley-Davidson Sportster, right?” Her eyes are set on the bike in front of her, but Bucky nods anyway. And though she can’t see him, she continues, “He gave me the same one in red.”

“You—you’ve got a bike?”

She turns to him then, “I’ve got several.”

Color him surprised. “Huh,” is all he can say. And to make up for the lack of words he begins walking over to the bike. “You coming?”

“Coming where?” She asks, blocking his way with her body.

He nods to the bike, he sidesteps her to finish his initial task of getting onto it. “I thought the whole point of calling me here was to drive you home.”

“On that?” She questions like she doesn’t already know the answer. “I’m shit faced dude, and you’re a fucking furnace. I’ll fall asleep on your shoulder in 10 seconds flat and fall off the damn thing.” The image does something to Bucky that he doesn’t want to look too closely at—not the falling off part, the other part.

“You said the word ‘furthermore’ in there like it was something people say in casual conversation. The longer I stick around, the more I wonder if you’re actually even drunk,” he argues. 

She rolls her eyes and stomps her feet. “Yes, because being babysat by you was on top of my Make A Wish list.” She puts her hands in her jacket pockets. “My place isn’t that far from here. I’ll just walk home. Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/n—”

“Thanks for showing up, especially because you didn’t have to,” she smiles at him. “You’re a good man, Sergeant Barnes.” With that she begins walking away.

And fuck him. 

Fuck this all to hell.

He gets off his bike and catches up to her in a few steps.

At first, she doesn’t acknowledge him. But then she says, almost to the world, instead of Bucky, “My place is actually really far from here.”

“I know,” he replies.

“You could’ve just put me in a cab,” she offers.

“You want me to hail one for us?” He asks.

“No,” she confesses, like it’s a secret but not one she wants to hide from him. “I want to walk.”

“It’ll take an hour on foot,” he reminds her.

“For most people, yes. But we’re not most people.”

He sighs, “So, we’re walking?”

“I know I’m walking—to my place. You can still run back to your bike and just ride off into the sunset… or moonlight, whatever.”

Yeah, right. 

Like Bucky’s gonna do that. 

So they walk.

It’s not all that late, the streets are still buzzing with pedestrians, none of whom neither care nor notice the two Avengers walking around.

Bucky’s gotta admit—it is peaceful.

“You like bagels?”

He’s caught completely off-guard by the question. “What?”

“Bagels, Sarge. I know they had them in the ‘30s. And I’m certain they are a thing in Wakanda, so you can’t—”

“Yes, I like bagels.”

She smiles. “Great! Come on!” She takes a right on the street and Bucky, as is the theme of the night, lost and confused, follows her.

The bagels are pretty fucking great. 

Bucky had skipped dinner to rush over, so he really needed to put something in his stomach so you won’t really hear him complain. He’s not all that picky about what he eats, never had a chance to be. But these—they are really good.

Well, except for—

“Why is mine rainbow colored?” He asks, but eats it anyway, it’s his last bite.

“To make up for the lack of it in your life.”

That makes him snort. 

“Can I ask you something?” She says then, looking deceptively small.

“Will it stop you if I said ‘no’?”

She makes a face that says, ‘you’ve got me there, Sarge.’ “Why’d you come?”

He almost chokes. 

Clearing his throat, he composes himself a little before he answers, “Your friend, Murdock sounded… worried on the phone.”

“He is not my friend,” she tells him laughing, as if it isn’t a sad thing to say. “We’re just… acquaintances. Even that might be a stretch. He hates me, actually. Well, maybe not hate. Let’s just say he doesn’t like me an awful lot.”

“You make it a habit of drinking with people who don’t like you very much?” He doesn’t really mean anything by that. He’s just making small talk.

But then she looks at him sideways, with a smirk. “It would seem so, yes.”

He gets up from where he’s sitting on the bench. “I don’t know what gave you the impression that I don’t like you but it’s wrong.”

“Is it?”

Bucky’s not sure why he’s getting so worked up over this. All he knows is that he doesn’t want her to think that he holds any ill will against her. “I have no reason not to like you—none whatsoever. You, on the other hand, have plenty not like me!” She laughs at him. And that works him up some more. “So, tell me, Y/n, what the hell am I doing here? Why the fuck did you call me?”

It might have been all the blood rushing to his head courtesy of getting worked up, or maybe it’s just plain old carelessness. Because Bucky knows, as soon as the words are out, that he’s fucked up. 

And the atmosphere immediately shifts. 

He was supposed to emphasis on ‘me’ and not ‘fuck’. 

“Y/n—” he tries to walk his words back but it’s already too late.

“What, you had something better to do?” She asks, cutting and unkind towards him for the first time in the entire night. Bucky looks away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says, triumphantly. “Did it cross your mind that maybe I called you cause you’re the only person on my contact list who I knew wouldn’t have any big plans tonight? Seeing as the only friend you ever had left you hanging like a ditchable prom date.” She looks at him, accusing, “And yet, you still won’t kick him off that damn pedestal.” She laughs, pacing now. “You’re fucking pathetic, Barnes.” Oh. So that’s what this is. “You’re stuck here, still holding on to him, looking up to him like a beacon of hope, defending him—for what?” He really should have known that this is what this was. “I don’t know whether to pity you or laugh at you.”

He can’t help it. 

He laughs.

“Something funny?” She bites back, still raging.

He relaxes. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Sad and funny, like life.”

“You wanna share it with the rest of the class, Sarge? Tell us what’s got you giggling like a teenager?”

He looks at her then, with all the patience in the world. “You called me to pick a fight.” Her face loses all color, it goes slack. “You’re drunk and you’re sad, and you wanted to fight… And who better to pick it with than me?” Her jaw clenches. “Look, I know you’re hurt. You’re mad at him for leaving and it hurt—I get that, I do, better than anyone else—”

She cuts him off. “No. No! You don’t get shit. Don’t do that—don’t act like you and I are the same. We are not!” Her hands are flying everywhere. Her anger is very animated. “When he left me he was being an asshole, but when he left you he was being a fucking traitor.” And just like that, Bucky’s left dumbstruck as all the anger leaves her body. “We—we weren’t together, not really. I mean, we weren’t even a thing anymore, not since Siberia. He didn’t owe me shit anymore. But you? He owed you the fucking world and he left you anyway. So, we are not the same! Because I have absolutely no right to be mad at him!” She turns away from him. “You’re not the ditchable prom date, Sergeant Barnes—I am.”

It feels like a gut punch hearing her say that.

“Hey, look at me.” She doesn’t. She’s stubborn. But he can be stubborn too. “Look at me, come on.” She relents. “You’re not a ditchable anything, alright? Now, he may be my friend, and I can understand that he had to go live out the life that was stolen from him, but that doesn't mean I didn’t tell him he was a jerk for leaving you behind.”

“You did that?” Her brows furrow.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because he was being a jerk…?”

And then, and only then—when she’s laughing does Bucky feel like he can breathe again. 

“I didn’t call you to pick a fight, James—can I call you James? I’m gonna call you James. Sergeant Barnes is really hard to say when I’m this drunk—but yeah. I didn’t call you to pick a fight with you. I called you, because you’re the only person I could.”

Bucky’s lost all over again. “What are you talking about? You could’ve called Rhodes? Or Pepper? Or Banner, or that guy with the bow and arrow, whose name I can never remember—”

“Clint Barton.”

“—Barton,” he corrects and continues, “Hell! You could’ve called Sam and he’d come running. You’ve got people, Y/n. People who care about you, a lot.”

Sighing, she slowly walks over to the bench and takes a seat. Shoving her hands in her pocket, she begins, “Rhodey’s got a hot date tonight. And Pepper’s probably reading some stupid book, after having tucked Morgan into bed. Banner is deep underground, somewhere on an Island, which you never heard from me. Batron’s youngest’s got this cold that won’t quit. And Sam is on a mission…. And we don’t really talk anymore…” She looks up at him from where she sits, “But even if every single one of them weren’t busy, I still would’ve called you.”

Bucky’s gonna happily ignore how the sentiment warms his heart. “Why?”

She takes a second. She pauses to find her words.

Once she has them, she begins, “Apart from Sam, they’ve all done the picking me up from a bar when I’m shit-faced routine at least ten times over, each of them.” Ouch. “The last time it happened, Rhodey read me the riot act and yelled some sense into me,” she confesses. “He—he said, ‘I get that you’re grieving, Y/n. But if you don’t pull yourself together sooner rather than later, you won’t have anyone left to come pick you up from your bender.’ And yeah. He was right, but that’s not why I didn’t call him.” She clenches her jaw. “I didn’t call him, or Pep or Banner, or Barton or Sam, cause they’ll always presume that I’m grieving—and don’t get me wrong, I am. But—” her voice breaks. “I’m also trying to get over the world’s most extraordinary break up.” She sniffles and Bucky’s legs almost give out at the sound of it. “They—they think this is about Tony, and fuck. It should be about Tony! It is about Tony! But—but it’s about Steve, too! I mean, fuck. Yeah. I lost my brother, but—but I lost the only man I’ve ever loved too, goddamn it!” She’s crying now and before Bucky can think better of it, he walks over and kneels in front of her. “And—and I can’t tell them that. I can’t tell them, that I’m out here drinking myself into oblivion because of a fucking boy! Because, how fucking stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid at all.”

“Of course it is! My brother died, James. He fucking died! He sacrificed his life to save the whole world! And I’m sitting here crying cause I got dumped!” Bucky wishes he was back in the ‘40s when he always had a handkerchief in his pocket for a dame to wipe her tears, because she’s crying in earnest now. “You know what’s the worst part?”

“What’s the worst part?”

“The one person—the one fucking person I want to call to pick me—fuck that. The one person I want to drink my sorrows with, the one person I want to go on a bender and paint the town red with is fucking dead!” Well, fuck. “Not that it stops me—you know? When I’m drunk, and I mean three sheets to the wind, kinda drunk, I completely forget that he’s—that he’s not gonna answer the fucking phone anymore.” Sniffling, she tries composing herself. “That’s probably why I drink, I think. Cause for those 30 minutes, when I’m plastered, I forget that my best friend, my brother, my Tony is dead.” And she laughs, surprising him and herself both. “I mean, that and the fact that America’s Golden Boy fucking dumped me for the most amazing woman there has ever existed in all of existence.” He can’t help me, he laughs a little at that too. 

She wipes away her tears and composes herself fully. “I called you, because you’re the only person who probably won’t think I’m an asshole for sometimes being just as heartbroken about losing Steve as I am about losing Tony.” She looks at him with her wide eyes, vulnerable and open for the first time since he met her all those years ago in whichever Hydra base they were trapped in. “I called you because, you, Sergeant Barnes, are the only person who I wouldn’t guilty with, for setting my all-consuming grief aside once in a while to let myself drown in my heartbreak.” 

Bucky Barnes doesn’t know this yet, but in a few years, he’ll become her permanent designated driver, for all time, always. He’ll become her emergency contact. He’ll become her ride to every single event. He’ll become her safe place.

In a couple of years, Bucky Barnes will become the man she loves more than she’s ever loved anyone ever before, and he’ll love her back with everything he is and everything he has—steadfast, unwavering, without hesitation.

And while Y/n Stark will give up drinking in the memory of her relationship with Steve Rogers, she’ll never fully outrun the grief of losing her brother. It will come in waves, fierce and unrelenting. And on the nights when it feels too heavy, she won’t reach for a glass of whiskey. She’ll reach for him. She’ll find him, just like tonight. But instead of throwing verbal punches, she’ll ask him to hold her. And he will—like he’s holding the world, because he will be, indeed and in fact, holding his entire world. 

He’ll even ask her about this night. Only to find out that she has no memory beyond the point of falling face first into the bar table. He’ll laugh, shake his head, and tell her the whole story. She’ll groan in embarrassment, apologize too many times, and he’ll just smile, admitting that this was the night he first knew—if he spent too much time with her, he’d fall for her completely.

She’ll tease him for being a sap.

But that comes later.

Tonight, here, he doesn’t know any of that. 

So tonight he’ll say, “Come on, let me take you home. I think we’ve had our fill of sad and funny things happening for one night.”

Find other one-shots here. Find other Static Verse works here.

[revelboo]

A silly little thing,, but I’m an Optimus Prime girlie & happen to also be an ‘exotic dancer’ lmao, so when I was reading Gravity….you can imagine the actual surprise & joy I felt when the reader revealed she was (or used to be one) too, like 😭😭😭 what are the ODDS?? Must be his aura….I love him, your honor

It’s meant to be!

Gravity Pt 12

Optimus x Reader

• Staring at the screen long after Megatron’s little message ends and his fellow Autobots that had seen it start speculating, all he can think of is that he’s not alone. And it’s a relief. Leaving the warmth of you to report for his duties had been difficult. Especially since you’d woken up first and had straddled him. Even deep in recharge, his body responding to those soft hands touching him. Definitely not the worse way to come to alertness and even though he’d hit the washracks, he swears he can still scent you clinging to him. But then it really sinks in. That the Decepticons are taking humans and using them. Because that’s an atrocity that hadn’t even occurred to him.

• Stretching to touch your toes, you idly run through a few stances to limber up because you’re bored out of your mind. As much fun as playing with Optimus is, as soon as he leaves, you’re alone with your thoughts again. Remembering the look on his face before he’s schooled his expression into neutrality. Like a big, lovesick puppy, hurt that sex is all you want. Blowing out a breath as you spin in a slow circle, head tipping back, you know you’d lied to him. But then, you’d lied to yourself to. Saying you don’t want more, when deep down, you do. You’re just afraid to hope, to let down your defenses knowing you can get hurt again if you do. That love is just a pretty lie used to reach a goal.

• Sliding into his seat, he steeples his servos as he listen to the bits of gossip and conversation around him. How many humans are in the Ark at this point? Honestly, he’s not sure anymore. But he does know one thing, he’s probably not the only one who’s gotten attached to their ward. Who’s crossed that particular line. And it’s out there now for all of them, the fact that their species are at least compatible that way. Dropping his head into his hands, he stares at the floor. Because someone’s going to need to have that conversation with the Autobots keeping humans. On the ethics of taking advantage of a much younger species. And how is he supposed to do that when he’s interfacing with you?

• Head lifting when he finally returns, your smile wavers when he just stares at you. “You look like the other kids were bullying you, babe.” Venting he sits on the edge of the berth and then just slumps backwards, hands over his face. Oh. Well this is new, usually he’s so calm and serious. Climbing up his arm and over onto his chassis, you drop to straddle his neck, arms crossed on his chin. “Want me to beat up someone for you?” When his head tips to look at you, you lift an arm to flex your nonexistent muscle for him.

• Your mischievous expression twists through him as he lifts a servo to slide against your spine. “When we- er- interfaced,” he says, ignoring when you cheerfully interject ‘fucked like bunnies.’ “I didn’t pressure you. Right?” Because he can’t imagine what those poor humans captured by the Decepticons are suffering and can’t help but wonder if you’d let him have you out of intimidation or fear.

• “Oh, you are too sweet for words. If anything I seduced you, big guy.” Laughing as he frowns seriously at you, you push up to stand on his neck and drape yourself against his chin, tapping a finger on his bottom lip. “Don’t worry. I promise you didn’t corrupt my innocence.” More likely, you’re corrupting his.

• “I could have,” he says, joking as some of his worry eases and you grin, brows lifting. Expression giving away how much you doubt that. “I can be a bad influence.” His protest just makes you laugh, that warm sound stroking over him. How can this be wrong when you feel so much like home? When he wants to lay beside you and exchange stories. Ask about each other’s day and spend his free time in your arms, listening to you laugh with him. Wants so much more than your body. “The Decepticons are taking humans.” Unable to say to interface with.

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[valentine-cafe]

i have been SOOOO excited waiting for yall to post takara and yall didnt disappoint <3

could iiiii perhaps req smth like her chasing us down, lil bit of silly pred/prey yk! some sort of base instinct to pin you down, have his way w you, and to get their teeth digging into you if only you’d just stay still… but that’s what usually what makes the victory all the sweeter :3

˖⁺. “ catch me if you can ” :

﹙ kitsune bf x gn afab reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁ 

. . . verse 9948e takara x gn afab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ kitsune  ˖ mercenary character ﹚

dating a kistune is fun and all until you remember how much he loves chasing you down and fucking you raw

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ predator/prey ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ scratching ˖ biting | wc : 1.4k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: sorryy this took so long but we hope it's to your liking!

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

You had never truly caught onto it. . . How your kitsune boyfriend stared away at you with hunger in his eyes everytime you playfully ran from him.

It itched away at him. Instincts kicking away at each part of his body to chase you down and grab you, fuck you into the ground while you moan and scream out his name.

He’s dreamt about it. He dreams about it. To sink his teeth into your flesh and claw away at you when you don’t want to lay still below him- wriggling around on the ground whilst pathetically whimpering out his name over and over. Your brain dumb and only focused on the feel of his cock splitting you open.

“It’s simple rules.”

Before you stands your kitsune boyfriend, with his fox smile widening as he begins to explain the little game he has been waiting for you to participate in.

“Just think a normal game of tag. But, when I catch you. . . “ He hums, tapping at the bottom of his chin with his index to pause his speech.

You tilt your head, blinking your eyes together as you let out a small yawn, before opening them up once more to see he has disappeard from his spot.

“Takara—” He could squeal at the sound of wild confusion in your voice. Most would think you would be used to the shenanigans of your boyfriend by now, but in honesty, you don’t think you could ever could with the tricks he pulls on you every day.

One second he is gone and the next you yelp as he appears out of thin air from behind you. Head of pink, fluffy hair nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He lets out a little fox laugh.

Before the thought of giving him a little scolding even passes through your mind, your hands stand from anticipation at the words crooned in your ears: “I get to fuck you into the ground. Until we are both exhausted and messy.”

Your entire face heats up like the fires of the home of the fire elementals, while your breath hitches and instinctively, you grab onto his robes from behind. Knuckles turning white from the newfound excitement rushing through you.

                                                                 . . . fast foward !! 🍒 :

  Ragged breaths escape you as your lungs feel like their life is being squeezed out of them. Sore feet thud against the dirt covered ground of the mushroom forest that the kitsune resides in.

Places such as these you do not have to worry about being caught by other spiritfolk, they tend to stay away from the mushroom forests.

Although Takara would not care much should a lonesome traveller come stumbling by and catching the sight of him pounding you from behind on a large mushroom puffing out aphrodisiac dust.

The laughs of the kitsune echoes throughout the forest, light footsteps right behind you at all times. It is as though he is right on your footsteps, ready to grab at the fabric of your clothes and drag you backwards. Take you right then and there.

And you do indeed spot them in your peripheral vision.

Yelping, you turn your heel and try to rush to the right. But they pounce on you just before you can make a quicker run for it.

He has to admit, you last longer than he though you would. There is not much time to think on that matter either, hands too busy ripping away at your pants and underwear to get through to your drooling cunt. Slick with arousal and anticipation.

Why, he hasn’t even touched you intimately yet and your pretty cunt is fluttering like he is balls deep inside already, thrusting away at it to draw out long the delicious sounds she makes for him.

“Fuck, dariin. . . Lay — Lay still” He huffs, eyes feral like a crazed man’s. Pink tails sway from side to side violently, while the pink of their irises drowns out with the expanding pupils. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

The groans he manages to perform draws out plenty of whines and sounds from you, that has him undoing his kimono as quickly as he possibly can. Freeing the hard cock which previously struggled in the confined space of fabrics upon fabrics.

You squirm, as if trying to keep the game going for the thrill of it. However your boyfriend above doesn’t take any of it. His hand pushing you back down onto the ground whilst lining up his cock to your entrance, collecting slick and mixing it with his precum.

Who is he trying to fool. You barely need to be prepped with how wet you are — The most infurating thing is that you keep moving and squirming

“I said lay still — Stop fucking moving.”

His chest crashes into your back. Squeezing you further down against the mossy ground. While his hands hurry and lift your hips. Parting your legs like it’s his job.

Splitting your walls apart, he helps you arch your back to press you a little closer. Setting a fast and animalistic pace for you as he fucks into you. With his whines and whimpers scattering out into the forest and farther. Let the world hear how he makes moans rip out of you.

“Takara!!” You cry out, hands struggling to find a spot to grip. Hair? Tails? Back? It’s too hard to decide when your brains feel like they’re already fucked half-way out. His hips smacking against yours and sending you straight to the apex point of pleasure.

He’s always fucked you open in a way that made you lose yourself completely. But this? Gods. Poor cunt is clenching onto him for dear life.

“Just look at her. Taking me— hnhhhnghn!! takinggg me so — hah- hgnhe ha- well!” He moans out. Humping away at that one bundle of nerves that twists at your tummy and threatens a slew of cum to squirt out of you every second now.

“S-so soffaaaaaaaast— K-Kara— KaraaA! pp-pleas-s-zzzzzzzzeeee! mmmgnh! Harder!!” It’s like ecstasy. Your little please. They shoot straight to his head pulling away all of the self-restraint he may have hung onto an inch.

He can’t just not listen to you right? Oh he fucks hard, giving you it all. His cock pulsating inside of you and squirting out strings of cum each time he feels the flutter of your walls around him and then clench that comes after.

The way that one vein on his cock feels brushing up against one of the nerves forces your head to limp. Hanging from his arm, while your jaw grows slack.

Your vision white with the pleasure coursing through you, and this is only the first round. Goodness, you have no idea how you are going to keep up with him when he’s fucking you like this.

“That’s it that’s it— yes” With strained encouragement he pulls the orgasm out of you. Settling the pace for a slightly slower one. Only for him to go back the second you whine in protest.

“So good at taking it baby, so good. Like it when I fuck you right here huh?”

His nails scratch across the flesh of your thighs, leaving the smallest of tears in your skin. Oh the prettiest droplets of maroon trickle down the delicate skin. It is too much to handle, the smell is intoxicating too. . . A bite wouldn’t be so bad either right?

Pain mixes with pleasure, distracting you from the momentary feel of teeth biting down against your shoulder. Only when you hear the muffled fox-like whines tumble out of your boyfriend’s mouth do you realise he’s biting you — the sight itself has you groaning out and crying from the pleasure.

His name leaves you thousands of time in a row, they’d be millions by the time he is finished with you.

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[aidensolas]

DAY BY DAY - A Forsaken Fic (2)

Summary of the last chapter: Finding a new game called forsaken you decided to try it out to escape your boring life only for one day a bit too many bugs happened in one singular day.

Well, I lost to my demons that promised me a two time plushy... so here it is....

Waking up has always been something you've never appreciated.

Opening your eyes to the same thing every day makes you less eager to wake up in the first place, where's the variety? The fun? Apparently, it's nowhere you've always been doomed to be in the grasps of a hellish fate. Oh well. Nothing you can do instead just to go day by day in the same process. Well, is it time to finally wake up to something different? Good or bad it doesn't matter right? It's time to face reality, so open your eyes. 'Time to face the hell you've been convicted to.'

Gasping as you immediately prompt your body up you touch your heart as if you can still feel the pain. You're not dead, are you? You remain on the ground as you hold yourself pondering but immediately you notice the clothes you were wearing before are gone instead replaced by something else. You immediately check your surroundings but all you can see is trees and nothing else... Struggling to stand up you find your footing only to fall down again. Wow feeling your heart like it's being ripped to shreds is NOT good for your mental and physical stability. You try once more wobbling as you use a tree as a crutch to stand up properly you see a simple path laid out Infront of you... Wait this isn't a dream, is it? You pinch yourself to wince from the pain.

....

....

Nope.

'Where the hell am I?' you ask yourself as you began to slowly walk down the path, you've always been an overthinker despite not remembering what you used to mull over so right now you're pretty nervous, scared, and probably going to die!

The only thing you can remember is falling over your table as you felt your world end but hey who are you to complain? You're still alive and well maybe this is one of those trials you have to face before you can get into heaven and you're at least hoping heaven has some gosh darn good food to compensate the pain you've felt or if there is any heaven anyway... Keeping your mind open you venture on! Taking a big step onwards to something new is always fun! Is what you'd like to think if you didn't feel so shit, 'The feeling of wanting to curl up and die is looking pretty good right now.' you thought as you sighed your head aching a bit. You keep thinking how you got into this situation as you kept walking in silence you came across a small pond enough for you to see your reflection, you think back to how these aren't your clothes though they look a tad bit familiar in some sort of way?

You take another look at your clothes and decided to look at the pond in order to see your reflection, as you take a small glance at the pond and looked at the wavy reflection it greeted you with. It's still you always have been you except for the fact you look exactly the same as your Roblox avatar. (Sorry not sorry to anyone with silly avatars.) Okay now you don't know whether to be terrified or amazed on one hand your minds doing imaginary backflips on thinking how you look so cool 'Wait if I'm wearing my Roblox avatar does that mean...' on the other hand you're terrified of what this could entail so as any good person would do when faced with adversity... You turned your brain off and decided 'Yep this is my life now better than what it was before at least.' You started to follow the path Infront of you once more with a muddled mind.

Somewhere Else

As Elliot hit the ground of the cabin with an audible thud he looked around in worry, distraught, confusion and fear, he held his hair as he sighed in relief to see it was his just his room, the relief didn't last long as his door opened with a loud bam, he turned to see it was Chance "Eli- Kid! Are you alright? A match seemed to have started randomly, and you were the only one who seemed to have gotten taken which is-" he stopped talking as he saw how badly wounded Elliot as he was bleeding from all places his face seemed to have been hit the most as it was covered it blood. "Crap let me go find you a medkit." Before Chance could scramble out of Elliot's room, Elliot immediately stood up but immediately fell over which Chance took to his aid to help him up and onto his bed.

"Kid I know what you're about to say and let me first tell you that you're our healer and if you're not in tippy top shape how will that look for us in future matches?" Chance said as he laid Elliot down onto own bed where Elliot replied with "I... was going to tell you to let me apply the medkit myself... Anyways where are the others? Are they alright?" Chance looked embarrassed for a bit then sighed "I.. I totally knew that! As for the others they're doing quite fine, they're all worried about you... So, What happened exactly?" Chance asked Elliot as another person appeared from the door which seemed to be Two time holding a medkit "I heard murmurs which pertained to Elliot being injured, so I brought a medkit." Two time promptly put the medkit down beside Chance then left the room in a quick manner "See! Even the uh.. crazy cult awkward guy is worried about you!" Chance said with a slight chuckle as he started to apply the medkit onto Elliot's wounds which Elliot stayed absolutely silent during the duration of.

As the process of applying the medkit was being finished Chance spoke up once more "So are we going talk about it?" Elliot looked into Chance's sunglasses as he shook his head slowly "It's not that.. I don't want to talk about it's more like I can't... Remember? My memory is a bit hazy all I remember is that 1x and I... Wait yeah! I was with someone... Yeah.. I can't remember them at all it's all so blurry and I was in pain s-" Elliot started to ramble, but Chance cut him off "I understand." Elliot looked relieved and slumped his body against the frame of the bed. Chance finished patching him up as he prepared to leave before he could Elliot spoke up once more "Hey Chance.. Thanks." Chance looked back and smiled at him adjusting his hat "No problem kid gotta repay you for all the times you've saved me out there huh?" as he closed the door to Elliot's room.

Chance after closing the door immediately descended the stairs meeting up with Builderman and Guest who were talking on a nearby table, noticing Chance Guest started the conversation "I heard Elliot's been roughed up pretty badly from Two Time he went to come asking me for a medkit, that guy's never been the one to seek initiative about something so it's gotta be bad. Anything noteworthy that happened to him? He got us all worried when we realized he went solo in on a match."

Chance flipped a coin as it was always his habit to do so when he's bothered by something "He didn't go Solo, apparently someone else was with him.. I don't know who, but he can't remember it clearly he looked pained when he attempted to do so, so I couldn't ask him for more information." Builderman who was staying relatively silent spoke up "A new person? Wouldn't they be granted a survivor room in advance? If so, they'd be also relatively near the cabins unless they came in from the outer borders."

Chance whistled as he flipped his coin once more landing on heads "Well are the others informed about this?" Builderman shook his head "Some but not all wouldn't want Noob to be scared about him going solo in a round, would be catastrophic thinking about it considering we barely got him to leave his room back then when he first came here..." Guest sighed as he stood up from his seat "Guess I'll go check on Elliot to make sure he's okay I'll be right back." As Guest he started to ascend the stairs Builderman called out "As you're doing so tell Shedletsky in his room to come and out and do the dishes it's his time of the week!" To which guest replied to a thumbs up before dissapearing out of their vision.

"So, regarding the new person..." Before Builderman could elaborate more Chance already replied "Yeah yeah... if you see the kid come down tell him to keep safe, okay? It might be wishful thinking but whatever keeps us afloat, no?" Builderman looks at chance for a moment before he acknowledges the answer while picking up a metal gear component "Gotcha.. I'll come follow suit after I'm done with some stuff alright?" Chance nodded lightly as he left the front door taking a look at the night sky and looking back at the forest "What exactly happened in that match?"

Back to you!

Okay so you've been walking for a good well you don't exactly know how long but you've been walking for a good amount that your legs start to feel like detaching itself from your body. "How long is this damned path!?" You say as you voiced out your own frustration as you continued to walk upon the straight path one thing you noticed is that the path seems to become increasingly narrow as the more you moved on as it becomes clear that the path does have an end! You reach somewhere (finally) seemingly the side of a dock area you decided to rest and sit upon the wooden planks on the docks as you pondered what exactly is the end goal here for walking anyway the more you thought about it the more you confused you get so you just decided to let life take its course and live it up to fate! (Wow.) You slowly tapped your hands onto the water as you felt bored and have nothing better to do but as you look to turn around and explore more you were faced with a giant blue pumpkin with a carved face that seemed to be illuminating a bright light "It seems like destiny has been cruel to you as well, no?" Your mind began to buffer as you registered what was happening before screaming in terror and funnily enough falling into the water as you lost your balance.

"Oh my."

Small things to note:

I'm very sleepy. I had to rewrite this 3 times to finally come with something I'm satisfied of putting out even though I still think it could have been done in a better way but here we are! No use in blaming myself now just hope I roll all heads.

Preferably not dying from the lack of sleep as well.

Another thing is the reader may look nonchalant or appear happy within the story for the first chapters because they still haven't realized the gravity of the situation, they are in incase anyone's wondering

Tag List (is this how you do it...)

@yukinaabutlazy - I had to follow you for it to work pls haha PLS WORK

[the more people ask of me to do something Tumblr related the more I know so don't be scared!]

[sunnysidesevenup]

OMG IT HAPPENED??? 300 FOLLOWERS?? I know I’ve been joking about hitting it but I genuinely can’t believe it like: you all like my shenanigans? truly? That’s incredible.

It’s kind of awesome that I hit this on new year’s (for me at least) so let me just take a moment to thank everyone who’s been so cool and supportive. I’ve been having a ton of fun sharing my little projects and interacting with everyone 😭 This is my first time truly engaging in fandom because I’ve been too anxious and depressed previously—I’m so happy I finally started putting myself out there.

ANYWAYS, DONE WITH THE SAPPY STUFF NOW. It’s time for the thing you’re actually here for!! I’ve put a TON of work into it so I really hope people enjoy this silly little event.

Everend’s Cove: Moonlight Song

Every year, Arlo Wake’s hometown holds a Moonlight Festival—in honor of the connection between the moon and the ocean, and the deep ties it has to certain merfolk cultures. This festival is held in many parts of the Coral Sea, but is specifically popular in Everend Cove for its special tradition of holding a singing competition in honor of one of the town’s myths.

As the myth goes, a group of sirens once fell in love with a human boy—so much so that in a selfless act, they saved the boy’s friend from drowning, a young girl whom he was in love with. The competition honors the spirit of love and selflessness, and the nature of the sirens.

Much to Arlo’s horror, his siblings have signed him up for the Moonlight Song competition this year. There’s no way he’s going alone, though. If he has to sing, then he’s forcing some of his classmates to come with him—that way, the attention won’t be fully on him.

Dress Code:

Arlo Wake’s parents are skilled potion masters by trade, and they’ve devised a special, experimental potion this year to turn tourists into merfolk temporarily! It might have a few side effects, but they assure you—any harm the potion causes will be thoroughly compensated!

If you don’t want to risk the potion, there’s always some traditional attire the festival provides. Everend Cove is a joint merfolk and human town, based right around an island, so there’s plenty of things to do both on land and in the sea! The important part of the Moonlight Festival is that you are adorned with sparkling stones and crystals. The more glamorous and mesmerizing the outfit, the better!

For better reference, here are some inspiration boards, and some concept art of possible outfits:

Rules:

it’s not at all necessary to be following me to participate in this event! ANYONE is welcome to join!

Any type of entry is welcome: cards, general art, edits, fics, anything!

It’s not required to use the backgrounds I made, I simply thought it would be fun to draw one ^^

If you don’t want to link your character to my oc, don’t worry about it! It’s not necessary to follow the event story, you can still have fun with the outfits and aesthetic if you want, I don’t mind at all!

If you WOULD like your oc to interact with Arlo, feel free! You have my permission.

You can draw/write for your own character OR a canon character, whatever you want <3 there are “official” participants, but this is all for fun, so it’s not necessary to stick to those.

Please tag me and use #Moonlight Song Competition with your entry so I can properly gush about it ^^

There is NO DEADLINE on this event! Go crazy!

Backgrounds for the SR Cards:

Featured Characters:

SSR Arlo Wake

SR Vil Schoenheit

SR Lilia Vanrouge

R Cater Diamond

-

SR Joseph Akaba

SSR Flori Mohn-Prinz

>>> Flori and Arlo seeing people’s… questionable singing skills.

SR Peony

Blanche, Mattie and Agate

SR AJ

SR Esra Gryfith

Reese & Kiki sketches

Kiki Groovy

SR Otto Walsh

>>> Otto & Esra doodle

SSR Kyra Lovelace

Mariette sketch!!

Rose outfit!

SR Alice | GROOVY

SSR Yuri

SSR Marina

SR Yuuna Schariac

SSR Talus

SSR Amai Sakura

SSR Cadbury Schweetz | GROOVY

SR Emery

SSR Morticia Dame

SR Patricia Catherine

Fic!!!

Yuri and Arlo Fic!!!

Arlo and Yuri Drabble!!! READ THIS ONE TOO IF YOU READ THE ABOVE ONE PLS 🥺 READ BOTH OF THEM

Fic featuring Mouse and Alise!!! READ THESE IM SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW GUYS.

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[just-null]

*gives null his favorite things in hopes of thinking about this*

What if, from all the stalking the Hantengu clones had done to their darling, their darling develops a lot of paranoia and doesn't let anyone near anymore?

Or maybe their darling has a lot of trauma from man going awful, unspeakable things to them?

((I don't know if I should refer to their darling as female or male and that's my first time ever asking a favorite creator of mine, please don't judge me))

((the Darling can be whatever you want them to be, but I'll always be as neutral as possible, so don't worry! 🐸💖))

Considering that these men are also horrible, it's not surprising at all to find yourself going insane! I wasn't sure whether not letting anyone close included the boys or not, so I did both!

[Cw! Yandere behavior, unhealthy dynamics, obsession, manipulation]

Your sudden shift was wonderful at first! They finally had you all to themselves, and it gave them so much more time to evenly spread your attention between themselves without getting into usual fights.

When finding out about your paranoia, they feed into it, affirming your fears about others just to have you rely on them further. Never stray too far, not like you can, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

Do you want to go out but you're too scared? Wait, right there, they need to decide who goes first to clear the way while the others stay close by!! that way no one will bother you!

Their favorite hobby is stealing—er—borrowing! so you don't even need to worry about something as silly as money or finance to get what you want again!! All you need to do is ask, and it's yours.

Their bias is prominent. Where hantengu would yelp and shout, they'd laugh and scold, but if you were to do the same, they'd comfort and coo. It's cute.. do you want them to get rid of something for you? Hold you? Comfort you?

Nothing really annoys them (aside from each other) now that you fully rely on them. Be as clingy and jumpy as you want, and they'll coddle you. Being spoiled rotten is the goal as long as you continue to cower at the sight of another soul or the thought of being alone.

They almost seem like decent lovers at some point, solely focusing on you and your needs. Jealousy is at an all time low now that they don't have to worry about anyone else. They even begin to hide their violent tendencies, too happy that you're with them to care.

It gets to the point where THEY had to be the ones to leave for important tasks lest they be.. "scolded" by a man you don't need to stress over.

It's devastating when they separate from you.. When they fight, their attacks are ruthless. Brutal. Bloody.. Even Urogi and Karaku are more productive because the image of their beloved all alone and trembling has their unbeating hearts aching.

Even with all this, they're still scummy rats who work together to make sure things go their way.

Sekido doesn't rile up your paranoia unless you insist on going somewhere alone. "Be careful, don't wander off. Yell and I'll go get you, who knows what's out there." He's content with your fears already. In fact, he's.. sweeter. He doesn't get as mad as he used to, only slightly irritated. Seeking him out to protect you from something small gets the most blissed out expression from him momentarily. His hold is still as firm as ever, but he doesn't insult you as harshly. Quiet grumbles like "Such a baby.. what is it this time?" are frequent, yet he does whatever you want. Karaku is NOT helping at all. Ever since he noticed you got jumpier, he thought it'd be fun to make you squirm, though he probably teases too much and makes you cry.. Pointing and gasping at nothing, making noises from other rooms, asking, "Did you hear that?" until you're visibly shaking from every little creak. But it's okay. He opens his arms every time and pets your head, cooing at you, "D'aww, don't start the waterworks, c'mere. I'll knock it off, I was just playing..! Even if I wasn't, you really think I'd let something get you? Never!" Urogi probably will give you terrifying heart attacks. Because you're so dependent on them now, he can't contain his love for you the second he sees you. One second, you're conversing with one of the boys, then the next a blur of feathers and glowing yellow eyes barrels towards you, toppling you to the floor. He can hear your heart beating through your chest as he presses his ear against it. He loves the sound!! "Did I scare you again? Hahaha!! You know it's only me who does this to you!! Anybody else would be dead before they even made contact. I love how warm you are, the thump of your heart, the feel of your skin, everything about you makes me too happy!!" Aizetsu is your worst enemy.. He needs a damn bell! Each step is too quiet, and he knows this. it's purposeful. You need to remember why you're paranoid in the first place, so he lurks around, letting you find him if he's feeling kind or giving you that feeling of being watched if he's not. He doesn't do it for long, preferring to be the one you hold instead of watching the others make an opportunity out of his methods. When he lets you find him, he pouts, tilting his head as if you're the one who intruded on him. "Dont mind me, I'm making sure everywhere is safe. Did you need something..? Or did you feel how much i missed you? Oh, you're so nice to me.."

———

But then.. you began growing distant towards them.

They're not sure what happened. Honestly, they might take it as rejection at first and double down until they notice you're TERRIFIED. They pause and regroup, planning their next course of action.

They do a 180 and fight often when alone, blaming others, then each other for being too much on you. Their muffled yelling and thumping from fighting are loud enough that you hear, though they try making it up to you later.

They're not as aggressive, just confused and hurt. Attempts to be considerate come off very stiff, but they're trying. They can tell you're not faking it. The terror in your eyes is undeniable.

Even if they're extremely upset about it, they put their feelings aside for you. There's no use talking to someone who won't listen.

Their attitudes get a lot more cautious but desperate. They've dealt with Hantengu's jumpiness and constant crying before, but being the cause in your case makes this more complicated..

They attempt to give you your space, and insist you stay home. Don't like the home you have? They'll find you a new one, a better one, and promise not to get too close. Give them some time. After that, they get rid of any external factors that could be harmful to you.

Unsurprisingly, they can't help themselves and will try to approach and speak to you, even if behind a wall or at a distance. Probably set up a wall divider just so you don't feel as scared to speak to them.

They're desperate and want what they once had with you.. please don't shut them out. this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Emotional reassurance isn't their strong suit (ironically). They never comfort anybody, not even Hantengu. Combat is their expertise! In their mind, fixing the problem outside will fix the problem inside ..At least, fingers crossed that they do.

It's because of those villains out there that you're so scared in the first place. What kind of disgusting shameless bastards assume they get the privilege to think of you, much less be near you?! The second they know what these "men's" faces look like, their insides will decorate the ground and-!

Ahem—

Let's just say they took a page from Akaza's book and treat men a little meaner than women. As in, making sure at least one bone of theirs is broken if they so much as breathe in your direction.

During the attempt at rehabilitation, they fall into roles according to how they handle you.

Sekido is your bodyguard that makes sure the others behave and you're taking care of yourself. His once long fuse shortened since he began blaming the others for your paranoia. He can't help but be protective. As much as he hates it, he won't focus on anything if he knows you're unwell. He doesn't say much aside from grunts and scoffs in hopes of not scaring you further. Karaku tries to lighten the mood and fills the silence with stories about what he's seen throughout his life, excluding the violent and aggressive details. Maybe even random stories he's heard, just to try and get your mind off of whatever is troubling you. He doesn't speak directly to you but around you so that you'll probably overhear. Urogi is the material comfort, bringing you gifts that the others check before they get left outside your room. The gifts aren't as ripped or scratched as they would usually be, but that's because he's trying extra hard to give you something that'll hopefully make you feel better! With his talons and excitement, Urogi doesn't see you as much anymore unless it's through the window when you're asleep. Aizetsu is the one who frequently speaks to you. He loves gathering information about you and hearing you speak in general. It's a pity you speak less, and when you do, there's a slight tremble.. it's cute, but you sound so miserable.. His airy, soft voice and gentle attitude grow sweeter when announcing himself, "How are you feeling? it kills me to see you like this.. please, tell me what to do to make everything better.”

The eyes you feel get worse since they're overprotective of you. At least they're not as secretive about it! They're insistent and happy that you avoid other people all together, though it'd be much better if they were an exception!