#i just assumed he had them all painted black so they looked the same but ofc he is very particular about the sound

[glassofpumpkinjuice]

i didn't realize until this interview that patrick has apparently been using the same acoustic guitar on stage for the past 15 years

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

•••••••

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 22. drunken regrets

(wc: 2.572… yeah..)

entering haechan’s apartment felt like stepping foot into foreign territory. you weren’t sure what you were expecting when the door opened, but haechan who stared at you with a lazy lopsided grin and gleaming eyes wasn’t exactly your first guess. “how much did you drink?” was the first question that you voiced upon seeing him.

haechan barely registered your words, seemingly in his own world. “just.. a few glasses?” he guessed after a while, squinting his eyes in thoughts. he opened his door wider for you, stepping aside to allow you to gaze further into the place. “come inside.” he welcomed you, surprising you at the sweet tone of his words.

you’re not sure how haechan had managed to convince you to come over to his place to clean up after him, but here you were, stood in the middle of his living room as you took in the interior of his place. his walls and decor were all painted in neutral colours, and you mentally noted how it suited his aura a lot.

“come sit with me.” haechan’s words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you followed the sound of his voice to see that he had seated himself on the ground you assumed he was previously sat on. his body was leaning against the couch behind him, head thrown back as he looked up at you. he still carried the small grin, and his eyes still held that same gloss.

you clicked your tongue, taking small steps further into his living room. “why are you back on the ground? you’re making this harder for the both us haechan.” you groaned and reached down to grip onto his guitar that was placed next to him. haechan barely listened to your words as he was busy watching your every movement. “do you want a glass?” he had offered once you turned back to him.

you gaped at haechan in disbelief, remaining silent for a few moments. you were about to ask him if he had lost his mind again, but the smile on his face halted your action, and you let out a sigh instead. one that haechan found amusing. “get off the floor.” you instructed him sternly, and haechan’s amused grin only grew.

his hand was slowly grazing through his brown locks that had turned black in the shadows of the room. “come on (—), you’re awake anyways.” haechan patted the spot next to him on the carpet. “sit down.” he called you over. he reached forward to grip onto the glass that was placed on the coffee table in front of him, bringing it up to his lips. “haechan.” you warned him, walking over to him to take the glass out of his hands.

“you’re no fun.” haechan huffed. “i’m not exactly trying to be fun, i’m trying to clean up after you so we can both go to sleep.” you explained, looking around in hopes of figuring out the direction of his kitchen in the dark. “why did you turn of all the lights?” you wondered. “it was hurting my eyes.” haechan explained back, still seated on the ground.

the kitchen wasn’t far away, and you placed the cup into the sink, as well as the other dirty dishes placed on the counter. you had to physically hold yourself back from washing each of them, remembering that you weren’t here to play as his maid. or maybe you kinda were, but not to that extent.

“why are you here for so long?” you jumped away from the sink and almost shrieked at the sudden infiltration of haechan in the kitchen. your heart was beating erratically, and you turned to look back at him with wide eyes. “what the fuck? don’t creep up on me like that!” you nudged him away. haechan softly laughed, grabbing onto your wrist to stop you from pushing him any more. “you took too long, i was starting to miss your presence.” he chuckled.

it took you a moment to register his words, and once they did, you stiffened in his hold. “what?” you questioned him, but haechan didn’t seem like he was going to expand on his words any time soon, instead he continued to stare at you with droopy eyes and a small grin. “how drunk are you?” you eyed haechan in suspicion and he shrugged.

whether he was aware of it or not, his thumb had started to rub the skin on your wrist softly as he tried to put a label on his drunk status. you on the other felt every bit of it, slightly shuddering at the ticklish feeling. “i don’t know, just a little?” haechan concluded after a while. his thumb continued to rub your wrist, and you were starting to believe it was intentional by now.

“you should go to bed.” you suggested to him, taking a step back, but he followed suit and stepped forward himself. “are you leaving already?” he seemed surprised and you hesitantly nodded your head. “i mean, i put your stuff away right?” you explained. his gaze felt heavy on you as he scanned your whole face. he had somehow managed to take ahold of your wrist again. “can you stay until i fall asleep, at least?” he requested.

your eyes widened in shock, frantically shaking your head. “what? that’s weird, haechan. why would i do that?” you asked, baffled. haechan shook his head as well, mildly swinging your wrist around as he spoke. “please, (—). i just wanna talk some more, after that you can leave. please?” haechan pleaded.

it took you by surprise, because what the actual fuck. never in a million years would’ve you imagined haechan desperately begging you for a favour, let alone the favour being your company of all things. was this even haechan?

while you were taking in the unexpected moment, haechan had already started to drag you with him to his bed room. it didn’t fully click yet what he was doing until the both of you were stood in the middle of his room, and he turned to look at you. “you can sit at the end of my bed, or lay next to me, i don’t bite.” haechan suggested with a smug look. there was a tone to his words, as well as his demeanour that caught you off guard.

“haechan..” you started, and you weren’t sure what you were exactly going to say. it was like all your thoughts disappeared when he softly smiled at you and took ahold of your shoulder, guiding to sit down on his bed before he sat down next to you. “you complain a lot, you know?” haechan chuckled. you could feel the way his eyes bore into your side, and were hesitant to look back.

“it’s because you annoy me a lot.” you defended yourself, thought your words seemed to lack uncertainty, almost as if you didn’t mean it. haechan hummed, leaning back on his arms. “can’t help it, i like how aggressive you get.” he chuckled and you finally took the courage to look his way, thought it was solely to send him a disapproving frown. he laughed upon seeing your expression, slightly leaning forward towards you. “what’s with the look?”

“why am i still here.” you deadpanned. being in his apartment was one thing, but making it onto his bed and sitting closely beside him was something totally different. there was something quite intimate about the moment. you could practically feel the warmth emitted from haechan hit your bare arm, and it sent a tingle through your body. “hm? do you not like being here with me?” haechan asked. you didn’t, but you also did.

you shrugged. “well, i like that you’re here.” haechan confessed, moving back to sit right next to you. “you’re drunk, you really should go to bed, you know?” you suggested and tried to move away. his body heat was practically enclosing you, and your own body was starting to warm up from the proximity. it didn’t help that haechan had accidentally placed his hand on top of yours too, slightly intertwining them from the top. or maybe it was intentional.

“you don’t even look at me whole you say that, why would i take your words serious?” he laughed, amused at how you persistently avoided his eyes. yes, you were avoiding them on purpose, especially when this particular night, his eyes seemed to be filled with nothing but fondness and slight intimacy. you’re not sure what was wrong with haechan tonight, he was not himself.

your throat that had dried up over time, and you swallowed before deciding to go against your attempts and look haechan directly in the eyes. “haechan, go to sleep please?” you asked him, attempting to sound persuasive yet demanding as possible.

again, haechan’s gaze held a certain fondness in them as he just stared at you with doe eyes. he seemed almost hypnotised with the way he hadn’t uttered a word, and you were starting to wonder if he had even heard you. your mouth opened to speak again, but he beat you to it.

“you’re so cute when you care about me like this, you know?”

whatever air you had inhaled to speak again remained stuck in your throat as your eyes widened. you were perplexed, at a loss for words even. your heart rate had involuntarily spiked up and your breath hitched. as if he took enjoyment out of your reaction, a small smile formed on his lips before he spoke again.

“you’re much cuter like this.. when you’re not nagging me. you should do that less.” you felt your heart pulse in your throat, eyes still widened while you listened to haechan’s surprising affectionate words. his hand was still placed on top of yours, slightly tapping the tips of your fingers every now and then.

“um.. i.. i think i should go.” you stammered, attempting to stand up. your knees felt weak and you wondered whether those few minutes on his bed were the reason, or haechan himself was the reason. you wobbled a bit, and haechan’s hand instinctively found place on your lower back while he quickly stood up himself. “be careful.”

his hand had reached the side of your hip, holding you secure as if you would fall down any moment. “i’m fine.” you muttered out, trying to step away from him. he let you slip out of his grasp, and you wondered if it was appropriate to just run out of his apartment at that moment. “should i bring you to the front door?” haechan proposed, already standing right in front of you. you took a careful step back. “oh- um, i think i’ll be fine..” you responded back.

it was like all your sense of thinking had left your body the moment the two of you were sat on his bed. you couldn’t even articulate a normal sentence, let alone look him in the eye. this had to be the devil himself, because there was no way haechan had this affect on you.

but as his hand grasped for yours and he started to gently tug you with him to his front door, you reconsidered the possibility of it all.

he opened the door for you, hand still in his, and had walked you to your own door without any words. it was silly, your door was right next to his, yet he still fully exited his apartment so the two of you were in front of your door.

“you good?” you wondered why he had to duck his head just so he could look you in the eye, why he felt the need to lift your jaw upwards just so your eyes could meet, and why he had to feign worry when you know he didn’t really care. “i’m fine” you whispered out, too scared of how wobbly your voice would sound if any louder. haechan’s eyes slowly inspected your whole face before he nodded, though not letting go of your jaw.

“thank you for cleaning up for me, by the way. i owe you.” you hadn’t thought of the possibility of a payback, mostly doing this for your own sake. “it’s okay.. you don’t have to.” you quietly answered back. haechan pondered over your answer for a while, slowly letting his hand go from your jaw, his other hand strangely still slotted in your own. you weren’t sure whether to break away from it or leave it as it is.

he was drunk after all, he was most likely doing actions out of his comfort zone.

“would a kiss be enough of payback?” he quirked and you almost jump at the suggestion. if your sense of thinking had left your body previously, you’re sure that every single one of the 5 senses had just left your body as the words left his mouth. your heart was beating erratically, and it was haechan’s fault again. though this time, you were scared for other reasons.

“w-what?” you stuttered in pure disbelief. haechan’s look was nothing but playful as he leaned forwards with a slight grin. “wouldn’t it be great compensation, hm? let me try, you tell me.” he teasingly leaned in. you attempted to push your head back into your door, avoiding his incoming attempts at anything.

from the short distance between you two, you were able to smell the scent of his shampoo, a sweet vanilla fragrance to was unfortunately pleasant. you were able to see desire in his eyes as you made eye contact for a split second. the soft glow of the hall light casted a warm and ethereal beam over him, and for once, all you could think of when looking at haechan was how nice he looked.

his nose barely touched yours and the warmth of his breath had started to hit your lips. you had shut your eyes tightly, surprisingly not opposed to whatever was going to happen next. because despite haechan being extremely insufferable, he was equally attractive, and you were not one to refuse on the opportunity to get kissed by an attractive person.

a part of you didn’t believe he would actually go through with his proposal, but as you felt a pair of soft lips plant onto yours, all your senses had seemed to return to you and you realised that he was not bluffing. haechan was actually kissing you, and you hated to admit that you didn’t mind it.

his hand that was previously on your jaw found its way back, slightly caressing your jaw as he pulled you closer. it felt good, and it didn’t seem like haechan was intending on stopping anytime soon. it felt good, but it was wrong, and an alarm went off in your head as you realised what was happening.

panic surged through you and you nudged haechan off you. the boy slowly opened his eyes in confusion, and the way they held that same glimmer they had the whole night made you groan. haechan was drunk, and you were kissing him while he was drunk.

you lowly cursed, not sparing haechan another glance before you opened your apartment door and closed it right behind you. with a deep sigh, you leaned against the door in exasperation. “fucking hell.” you cursed. you regretted ever going over to his apartment. you regretted going into his bedroom, you regretted kissing him.

it ended up being a waste of your time as you remained sleepless the rest of the night anyways.

previous — master list — next

notes ; happy haechan day and also happy lqfiles day, a little birthday present from me to you! ^^

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @junviadinho @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

[harmonysanreads]

Happy Birthday...!

feat. vampire!alhaitham

cw(s) : two dorks being too adorable, smitten alhaitham

wc : 1.4k

Every so often, Alhaitham could be found in profound contemplation in the study of his imposing mansion. Books strewn about, some half open and some in piles beside his chair and utop his desk—though the material of his perusal remains hard to deduce.

An amateur mistake would entail that Alhaitham wasn't in deep thought at all, but in a slumber and that could be credible, if you were to disregard his species' characteristics altogether. Though Alhaitham assumes a relaxed position, his senses are never in the same state of inertia. His ears pick up on tip-toeing footsteps, the vibrations registering as familiar in his sharp mind. These playful tricks could fool any ordinary human, not a vampire capable of catching the pressure applied in those pattering sounds.

He knows it's you, can predict you have a surprise in your hands and can envision the playful smile that must undoubtedly be stretching across your lips. But he does not move an inch, does not give any indication that he's aware. Alhaitham is not known for frivolity and neither would he be inclined to encourage such behavior if this was anyone else. Perhaps every action of an intellectual appears to bear some motive to the audience, or simply the intention is interpreted.

Nevertheless, Alhaitham continues to act his part, giving all the reactions you expect. Appearing to be startled when your arms wrap around his neck but before he has the chance to respond, you swivel in front of him after pressing a chaste kiss under his jaw. Turquoise eyes widen, for that he didn't see coming. He can only thank that blood never rushes to coat his skin pink as you stand in all your giddiness before him and dear vampire lords, are you the brightest.

“Happy birthday!”

The vampire blinks, vacillating between your expectant expression and at the ‘gift’ you eagerly present to him.

Ah, so that's the occasion. Alhaitham has always thought that humans were a bit too passionate about celebrating the day they were born. Such customs are not performed among his kin, for a vampire's ‘birthday’ is just a bitter reminder of their eternal damnation. But, you don't know that. Tied to your mortal sentimentalities and well wishes ; he knows of your sole and innocent wish to make him happy.

So, he carefully takes the wrapped object in one hand and grasps your outstretched palm in the other, gently guiding you to his lap. His unbeating heart swells when you follow him without the slightest hesitation.

“Thank you, what is the gift?”

“No no, you aren't supposed to ask me that, Haitham! You have to open it yourself.”

You chide him with a raised finger and one of his brows quirks up. He's still not yet accustomed to every nuance of human behavior but, for you, he continues learning.

“Apologies, let me correct myself then.”

Alhaitham undoes the ribbon and wrapping paper, putting them aside to feel the coolness of the ceramic mug on his hand. Orange pupils squint to capture the details, turquoise painting and the words ‘best vampire’ boldly printed in black in the mug's body.

“Do you like it?” your hopeful tone snaps him out of his inspection. If this had been even fifty years ago, he wouldn't have stopped a confused frown from showing. Or, if the object had been handed by someone else, he wouldn't have considered it anything less than a joke.

“I...yes, I do like it. I wasn't aware that I was the ‘best vampire’ in your eyes. But then again, have you met other ones?” Alhaitham asks smoothly, feigning indifference to the sardonic prospect that you might have.

“Not at all! But you know the stories of vampires everyone tells, they're usually so scary, mean and selfish. You're none of those, you're intelligent, calm and have the softest heart—which is why, you're the best.”

Alhaitham appraises your confident answer with a humorful look, surely you must not think he's like this with everyone else? But, he doesn't correct you at all, feeling almost inebriated by your heartfelt words. It's also a bonus that his ego swells, he's still like any other man in some aspects.

“You know, I actually wanted to add a mosquito and bat sticker to the mug.”

That yanks Alhaitham out of his bliss.

“A.. mosquito?”

“Yes..? Aren't you essentially an overgrown mosquito? You know, both of you rely on blood to survive?” you question innocuously, shifting in his lap nonchalantly.

Alhaitham's jaw slackens, not knowing whether to be offended or amused. If this was inquired of any other vampire, you would not be able to get a second sentence out. But, he identifies this as a lack of knowledge and decides informing you would be best.

“That is a grave misconception. Because only female mosquitoes drink blood, during the time they bear eggs, more precisely.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape in understanding, quickly morphing to a sheepish expression. “I’m really sorry…”

Alhaitham waves it off, pausing when he remembers something, “You also mentioned a bat sticker, why?”

This time you look up at him in barely restrained excitement, “I've wanted to ask this for the longest time! You can transform into a bat, right?”

“No, I can't.” your shoulders slump slightly.

“Then.. will you turn to ash if you come into contact with sunlight?”

“While prolonged exposure to sunlight can kill a vampire, we've evolved to be able to withstand marginal exposition. It's not as deadly as the movies portray it.” your expression falls but he notices some semblances of relief. Huh, were you worried for him?

You try again, “W-well, will you die if you eat garlic?”

“Garlic makes me allergic. Its scent is pungent and irritating. Not much different than human allergies.”

This time, Alhaitham doesn't bother masking his amusement at your pout, “Was everything I've known about vampires a lie?”

One of the first traits Alhaitham had noticed about you was your curious nature and eagerness to learn new things. You'd always be on the lookout for an opportunity to ask him questions regarding his vampire roots in particular, preferably when you deemed he was in a good mood. Most of the time though, you opted to make your own observations. It seemed both of you were the most interesting creature on Teyvat in each other's eyes.

The vampire puts the ceramic mug aside on the table, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. He tilts up your downcast face with a finger beneath your chin, “It's not your fault that human media portray vampires in that particular light and weave these stereotypes. You know only what you've been shown.”

Ashen locks tickle your skin, “You’re not mad at me..?”

“Not at all.” how could he ever be upset with you?

Alhaitham sighs in relief when your smile returns in full force, turquoise eyes slowly shift to your neck, the pulse there beating with the essence of your psyche. A frown marrs his impeccable features as a thought passes by his mind. Humans cherish every year of their lifespan due to the limitation of it. They're fragile, susceptible to the whims of time. But instead of lamenting their inevitable end, they choose to celebrate and foster the memories acquired within their short lives. He's not subjected to the same laws, the shadow of death will not fall upon him as a result of old age.

He'd pondered about this mortality but never worried about those subjected to it. However, as he feels the warmth of your body envelop his cold one and cradles this vessel of the purest soul he's encountered — he can't stop a bolt of paranoia from racing down his spine. What would he do if he could never hold you again like this?

His thoughts are interrupted when he feels your arms around his shoulders again, your warmth presses against him. For a moment, Alhaitham stays still and stunned, all his senses focusing on your proximity, your scent and the beating of your heart. You don't say anything more, letting all your reassurance seep through that sweet embrace. A canopy of serenity drapes over the vampire and he returns your hug to imbibe these feelings deep in his soul.

His hand brushes along your back a few times before coming to a halt, “[ Name ],”

“Yes?” your hum tickles the skin of his shoulder.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

A beat of silence passes, Alhaitham was so caught up in the flurry of events that he completely missed the white shirt hanging loosely on your figure. Albeit, he's anything but irritated at this revelation, you could take his entire wardrobe and he'd thank you.

“Teehee~”

Alhaitham places a reverent kiss on your pulse, smiling as your mischievous giggle reaches his ear.

Just for this moment, he supposes he can forget the rules and restrictions of this wretched world and indulge in your presence.

[more vampire!alhaitham content]

[cameronspecial]

fallin' all in you by shawn mendes and back to life by zayn

best friends to lovers, always there in the bad moments, always there in the best moments. those times of seeing the other with someone else til they finally confess to each other they are in love

Always There

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Sorry this isn't more related to the songs but the prompt really had me going.

Masterlist

It didn’t take long for Rafe to learn that she was going to be the most important person in his life. No, it really didn’t. It took the thirty seconds that it took for their fathers to leave the room for him to make that realization. The six-year-old stared at the short five-year-old girl in front of him, examining every part of her. He starts with the polished black Mary Janes that adorned her feet. They revealed the folded at the top perfectly white socks she is also wearing. The bottom of her wrinkle-free plaid pink dress kissed the bottom of her knees and not a single stain can be found on her white cardigan. Her nails were painted the same shade as her dress with no chip in sight. Small pearls circled her neck and her ears were studded with pearls as well. To complete the pristine look of the young girl, her hair was smoothed back into a high bun. Rafe was quick to assume he wasn’t going to have any fun playing with his father’s business partner’s daughter, but he was proven wrong by the first words she said to him. “Do you want to go play in the dirt?” Her question took him by surprise because her clothes certainly didn’t give the impression of a little girl who would want to play outside. Nevertheless, he nodded with a massive grin and dragged her to his backyard. 

When it was time to leave, the two newly made friends went running to their fathers; just not exactly in the same condition that they were left in. Both their clothes were now stained with mud and wrinkles were a plenty. The tight bun Y/N once wore at the crown was sagging at her nape and several knotted strands framed her face. Rafe’s gelled-back hair was mixed with mud, standing on its ends. To match their parallel appearance, her chipped nail polished hand gripped his slightly bigger ones. He had insisted that they held hands while they ran towards the back door. 

Ward’s eyes widened when he saw the state that the children were in and embarrassment flashed across his face. He was sure his son was the reason for the state they were in. He turned to the other adult prepared to apologize, “Nolan, I’m so sor-.” Mr. Y/L/N let out a good-hearted laugh with a shake of his head. “I told your mother that dress wasn’t going to last long. She knows you hate staying still or clean,” he noted, hunching over while taking off his glasses to wipe fake tears from his eyes. His daughter began to giggle with him and jumped into his arms, neither of them caring if his shirt got stained. Ward and Rafe looked at each other with uncertainty and continued to watch the other pair. Nolan stood straight with his daughter in his hold, “Did you have fun, Ladybug?” Y/N grinned at him. “YES, DADDY! Me and Rafe looked for worms and I chased him with one. I was faster. He is my best friend. Can we come back to play again?” The small boy’s heart flipped in his stomach at her words. He had hoped she had just as much fun as he did and he wanted nothing more than to be able to play again. He waited for her father to reply in anticipation. 

Nolan smiled warmly at his daughter, “Of course, Ladybug. Maybe he can come over to our house sometime. I’m sure he’d love to see the treehouse you and your brothers built.” He turned toward Ward for the next part. “That is, of course, if it is okay with Mr. Cameron.” “I think that’s a great idea,” Ward agreed. No one could see it, but Rafe did a little victory dance in his head. He had never been more glad to have been woken up early on a weekend because he was pretty sure he had met his future wife. 

———

That day he certainly met his best friend; where Y/N went, Rafe followed and vice versa. However, if the pair weren’t together, it was hard for either one of them to find the other. The bars of the ladder creaked as he climbed up them. As he got higher, he could hear the soft sniffles she was letting out. He got to the top and her hunched position confirmed she had been crying. His heart squeezed at her tears, causing him to hurry across the sun-shaped rug they had brought up there to her side. Once he was close enough, she instinctively turned into his hold. The twelve-year-old boy nuzzled her face into his neck. He ran his hand through the hair on the back of her head, waiting for her to calm down enough to speak. “He’s gone. Bernard is gone,” she wailed into his skin. He knew that. Her eldest brother had called when he couldn’t get her down from the treehouse. James explained to Rafe that Y/N’s pet snake, Bernard, had died and she had been up there all day, refusing to come down for anything. 

His cheek moves against her skull. He moved some of her hair behind her ear and kissed the skin beside her eye. “I know. I’m so sorry, Cookie. He meant a lot to you,” he mumbled with his lips against her skin. He could feel her nod under him, “He was supposed to have more time. They live for at least twenty years in captivity.” A cool breeze came over them. Even though it was the middle of the summer in the Outer Banks, the setting sun caused the temperature to drop. Her bare arms were littered with small bumps and his lips tightened. His hands began to rub up and down her arms in an attempt to bring her warmth. 

“Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes the people… or animals we love get sick and they have to go. That doesn’t mean that we stop loving them or they stop loving us, it just means we have to have faith that we will see them again,” he eloquently shared. “How about we go inside? We can get something to eat and talk about him.” 

She froze, raising her head to look at him. “I can’t. I can’t go back in there because it reminds me of him… Is this how you felt after your mom died? I mean, it must have been ten times worse because she was your mom.” His breath hitched at the mention of his deceased mother. He hated talking about his mother, yet whenever she asked, he answered. “Yeah. It was and sometimes still is hard to be at home. Right after I lost her, there were moments when I forgot she was gone,” he revealed. “I would be doing my homework in the dining room and occasionally expect her to come in to ask if I needed help. Or if I smell organes, then I wait for her to offer me some…” He trailed off, getting lost in the memory of his mother. She sensed the pain the recounting had brought him and contorted them so that he was the one with his ear to her chest. “We can share an orange now if you want. To honour her,” she suggested. He raised to check if she was sure. “We don’t have to. We would have to go inside to get one and I understand if that is too hard for you.” 

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand. He held his hand out to help her. Her hand fell into his. “It’s okay, I think I can do it with you by my side.”

———

Rafe had been falling for Y/N since they met, except he had only realized that three years after Bernard had died. It was quite possibly the worst time for him to be going through it because he was going through puberty. His face was pimply and his voice cracked at horrible times. Although he still got girls, his unstable state caused him to lack the courage to go after the person he desired the most. It didn’t help that she only saw him as her best friend. 

“Ahhhhh! I got in,” she squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him into a hug. He chuckled and moved his hands to the back of her thighs, giving them a little tap. She got the message and jumped to be in his hold. On-lookers would assume they were dating. He leaned back so he could see her eyes, “I’m so proud of you, Cookie. I knew you could do it. No one deserves it more than you.” They had been in that position for a few seconds and his biceps began to ache. He took it as a sign to start hitting the gym more. He wanted to get more toned anyway. His lack of strength was kept to himself because she loved it when he carried her. He had to agree that the position did give him butterflies, especially when the light would hit her face just right. His eyes found her irises and the air in his lungs deflated. Thankfully, the universe sent Gabriel to break the tension. “Eww, could you guys not do that in a common area,” he complained. Pete followed his brother into the room and nudged the older sibling with his elbow. “Leave them alone. They are in love.”

Y/N groaned at the interruption from her older brothers and dropped to the floor with an eye roll. “We are just friends. Plus, we are allowed to celebrate. I just got into a coding summer program I wanted to get into,” she announced. Rafe felt burnt by her first sentence. Her brothers went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Both of them gave her congratulatory words. The siblings stepped back from each other after a moment of happiness. “We are bringing back takeout. Text us what you want,” Pete briefed before the two boys left. Silence covered the room and their eyes connected. 

His head gestured to the couch and they sat back down on it. The distance between them was quickly filled in by Y/N shuffling in. She rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, both of them staring at the screen announcing the news. Reality set in for her. “We are going to have to be apart for a month,” she declared. To date, the longest they had been apart was three days. She had to go to Colorado at the last minute for her great-aunt’s funeral. Besides that, their families solely took group trips together because the pair refused to go without each other. Rafe felt her anxiety coming up and offered his hand to her. Her impulse drove her to grip his ring between her fingers. He let her rock the metal band back and forth on his digit. He shrugged, “We’ll be fine. We can text during the day and FaceTime whenever you want. It will be like we are together. I’ll even text you every time I need you to pick out what I eat. As if you are here with me.” She paused to think about what he said for a second. “Would you send me letters? Like people do in the movies.” He removed his hand from her lap and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Of course. With the number of different ways we will talk, I am always there for you,” he promised, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to tell her how he felt. 

———

He never sent the letter and four years later, he regrets his cowardness to this day because now, it is too late. His hand resists the urge to crush the neon-green solo cup. She insisted that he got the colourful cups for his party because she thought they were cute. Of course, he gives into her every whim in hopes it will make her finally see him. It doesn’t work though; if it did, then she would be at the party with him and not with her boyfriend of one year, Jay. Jay, the new addition to the Kook civilization, is polite and always put together. So the complete opposite of Rafe and Mrs. Y/L/N's dream partner for her daughter. Rafe loathes the fact that Jay gets the title of Y/N’s first boyfriend and maybe one day her first sexual partner. At least two things provide him comfort, he was her first kiss and obviously, she must not feel confident in her relationship with Jay or else she would have had sex with him already. 

She isn’t a prude (the friends often talked about their masturbation fantasies) or waiting for marriage. Her wish is to give her virginity to someone she is certain loves her, so Jay must not give her that feeling. Rafe has seen the couple say I love you to each other and this confirms his suspicion that something feels authentic to her. Nonetheless, she stays in a relationship with Jay. The best friend once questioned her continued status as the other man’s girlfriend and she said she felt a spark she wasn’t ready to let go of. Rafe thought she was lying. Jay is the first choice her mother approved of and Rafe suspects that is one of the reasons Y/N is holding on to him. 

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a splash on his hand. His gaze leaves the sight of Jay whispering into Y/N’s ear as she giggles and trails down to his hand. The cup that was holding his beer is now rumpled in his gasp. He doesn’t mind. After he changes his beer-soaked shirt, he can get something stronger. He swims through the sea of people to get upstairs, chancing a glance at her before he disappears.

It takes him a while to find a shirt to wear. Every time he picks one up, he hears his best friend’s voice in his head. That one is too busy. That colour looks like puke. That one washes out your eyes. He searches for the slightly baggy silk-black button-up that she loves. She prefers a looser-fit shirt because she thinks a shirt that is too tight makes men look like sausages. No matter how many abs they have. He groans, remembering that the shirt is hand-wash only and the maid left it in the laundry room to dry. The shirts in his hands are thrown onto the floor and plans to go shirtless until he retrieves his shirt. As he is about to open his door, the familiar rasp of Jay’s voice can be heard through the door. “I can feel it, Dude. I am so close to sealing the deal with this bitch,” Jay hypes into the phone. “Of course, it is going to be worth it. She’s a virgin. You and I both know that they are always the freakiest because they want to try everything.” Being guilty of saying crude things, Rafe pieces together the meaning of the phone call. 

Anger slides under his skin, creating a large splinter. He doesn’t go after the asshole because his concern is Y/N. She deserves to know the truth before she makes her decision. 

He waits for Jay’s footsteps to fade and slides out of the door, taking a different route to get to her. It is perpetually easy to find her in the crowd. Her joyful aura draws him in wherever they are. Her hips sway to the beat of the music and her hands are in the air, one holding a pink solo cup. Her hair flows with the carefree movement of her head. Rafe hates that he has to be the one to wipe the smile off her face. The crowd doesn’t object to him pushing his way to her. They can see he is on a mission and everyone is familiar with his famous temper. His warm hand on her lower back causes her to turn in his direction. “Hey, Rafey. Where have you been?” she greets with a bright smile. A clench shoots through his heart, “We need to talk.” Her lips turn into a line at his serious expression. They understand each other’s small facial tics which makes reading each other’s emotions easy. Her head bobs and he guides her to his room. 

He closes the door and turns to find her sitting on his bed with a bounce. “What’s wrong?” she inquires. The corner of his lip puckers between his teeth. “You might not believe me, so I want you to know that I am telling you this because I love you.” She stands to shuffle by his side. “What do you want to tell me?” she presses on. He comes to shit beside her and rests his hand on hers, preparing himself for when she needs to play with his ring. “I overheard Jay on the phone and, I’m going to spare you the details, the sole reason he is dating you is because he wants to sleep with you. He sees you as a game and you don’t deserve a person who doesn’t appreciate you.” 

She isn’t shocked by the news. The lack of surprise doesn’t mean she isn’t upset. Sure, she isn’t head over heels for Jay, but they still spent a year building a relationship and trust. The fact that he is lying and simply sees her as an object is understanding. In spite of that, Y/N finds herself not as upset as she should probably be. She racks her brain for why the news isn’t more detrimental to her and the answer comes up in the form of two cerulean eyes. The man who played in the mud with her even though she was a girl. The man who would hold her in his arms whenever period cramps were hitting her hard. The man who always knew her order, no matter her restaurant. She never fell in love with Jay because she was already all in with Rafe. He is always there for her and she is now realizing she only wants him there. The small well of tear that is about to crop up gets waved away by her newfound feelings.

“That’s okay,” she whispers, shuffling closer to him. He stares into her eyes with arched eyebrows, “Really?” “Yeah. Because so far, I’ve been falling for men who weren’t how they appear. But I think I found a man who is exactly how he appears.” His confusion doesn’t wave from his face, so she makes her point clear by leaning in. He clocks her movement and his eyes flutter shut as he follows her lead. As their lips meet, love is breathed into each other's lungs and it becomes all-consuming. His rough lips soften with the help of her lip balm. They break apart in a small pant and their forehead smooch together. She grins at him, “If it isn’t clear, I have fallin’ all in you.” “Did you just quote Shawn Mendes?” he chuckles. She feints irritation, “I guess I won’t say what I was about to say then.” He shakes his head and rests his hand on the back of her neck to keep her there. “No. No. No. Keep going.” Her smile returns. “I love you.” The future he has imagined for them starts playing at full speed and he can’t believe he gets to catch up to it. “I love you too.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworl

[dandelions-143]

Games

Part of the Bad Boy Series

Part 2

Pairing: Jeongin x f!reader

Genre: smut and angst

Wk: 3277k

Warnings: Very very very mild Agonophilia, mild Ravishment, tiny bit of blood, cussing. Let me know if I missed anything

A/N: I hope this ones enjoyable. Let me know what you think! Reblogs are highly appreciated. Also tag list is open for any and all of these! Just comment or message me!

A/n: There will be more parts to this.

Masterlist

Jeongin Masterlist

“Oh don’t be such a pussy, Y/n.” Your best friend, Seungmin said as you stood at the entrance of an empty hotel. Hotel Athens had been a very popular place for the towns affluent and rich to congregate throughout the 19th century. But as the 20th century approached those same very rich and powerful people began to spend more time in the city. So the once very prominent Hotel Athens was now only just an empty building, left to rot holding only the ghosts of its past with in it.

So to find yourself standing at the entrance of such a place, it’s large metal gates that had once been chained now standing wide open like a gaping mouth ready to devour you.. this was not the way you had planned on spending your Saturday night.

You sighed and took your steps forward to follow Seungmin closely, “I’m not a pussy, I just have some sense about me.” You lightly smacked his shoulder and fell into a cautious step beside him. You and Seungmin had been best friends since grade school. He the quiet type, preferring books and video games over people and you the feisty loner preferring anything else over people were a friendship made in heaven. That is until you went off to college in the city and he stayed within the confines of the small town you once called home.

Seungmin had conned you into a night out with him and his new found friends, promising a marathon of your favorite 80’s slasher movies if you would attend this very stupid game of hide and seek.

You had heard a great deal about these new people Seungmin was hanging out with and none of it was good. You even knew a few of them, only because they were in the same graduating class as you. They were all sons of the filthy rich in town. People you had no interest in whatsoever, just bored rich kids doing as they please.. no matter the consequences.

Seungmin handed you a small flashlight as he held open the heavy door that led into what used to be to be the lobby of this sprawling hotel. Time and neglect had obviously taken its toll on the place, dirt and grime covering the floor, spiderwebs hanging in various corners. Old furniture tattered and torn by animals you had assumed, and then there was the vandalism. Ugly words and pictures spray painted across the walls and windows.

“This place.. I’ve seen pictures of how it use to look when it was open and it use to be beautiful.. why would anyone want to mess that up?” You mumbled more to yourself than to your best friend who had his attention elsewhere. When he did not respond you cast your gaze in the direction he was suddenly headed.

In the middle of the lobby sat a very handsome man, a lit cigarette between his long slender fingers, a black hoodie covering him but you could make out a few small tattoos on his hand and fingers. You assumed that had to be one of Seungmins new friends. You were not enthused at all, so you stayed put by the entrance as you watched the two converse in a familiar way. As if they had known one another for ages.

Seungmin pointed in your direction and the man’s dark eyes shifted to you, they seemed to narrow even more as if he were assessing you. “Hey Y/n, come here!” Your best friend called and you huffed out an annoyed breath before slowly making your way over to them. “Jeongin, this is Y/n. My friend I told you about.” Jeongin let his eyes follow the lines of your body, as if he were a predator assessing his prey for the night.

Before another word could be said loud laughter, yells, and footsteps began to echo through the pitch black halls. The only lights in the place were the battery generated ones that sat in the main lobby and the flashlights people had. “The fun’s about to start.” Jeongin finally spoke, his eyes staying only on you. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, your hands becoming clammy and fidgety under his intense gaze.

You grabbed Seungmins hand and yanked him from the couch pulling him away from Jeongin and the seven other men that seemed to descend from the darkness to gather around him. All in black clothing, holding what seemed to be masks. Some were tattooed and some were not. You recognized some of them, Chris and Minho, as well as Changbin. The others you had seen but didn’t know who they were exactly.

“I want to go home.” You stated in a low mumble to Seungmin, tugging at his shirt sleeve. “Oh come on, it will be fun. They told me it’s harmless and anyone can leave whenever they want to.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to ease your worries but you could still feel Jeongins heated haze on you. You opened your mouth to protest further but just then a loud clap and then Chris stepped forward his voice booming through the open space.

He was good looking as well.. in fact all of them were very handsome. Chris had a sleeveless black shirt on making sure to show off his toned arms that were covered in tattoos. The last time you saw him he didn’t have as many of them and he now had a shiny little nose piercing. You couldn’t deny that he looked good but, from what you knew of his family and the way he acted in school.. you wanted no part of him or his friends.

“We have a good turn out tonight it seems, thanks for coming. Now i would explain the rules but there are none.” He chuckled softly and so did a couple of the guys behind him. He sounded polite enough, harmless even but you knew better. “It’s simple, you all hide and we..” he gestures to himself and the guys behind him. “Seek.” A girl with short bleach blond hair spoke up, “and what happens when you catch us?”

Your eyes locked with Jeongins this time, as if a magnetic force kept pulling you towards him. Your eyes grew wide with a mix of fear and excitement as he pointed towards you and mouthed the word “Mine”.

Chris’s steady voice replied with a simple, “we do whatever we want with you, babe.” A sly smirk spread across his full lips, transforming his very handsome features into something more devilish, sinister. “Don’t worry we’ll give you all a head start.” Then as abruptly as he had started Chris yelled, “Lights off!” Just then all the lights except the remaining flashlights shut off and Let The Bodies Hit the floor began to blare from speakers in the room.

You couldn’t see two feet in front of your face, playful screams and running footsteps could be heard around you, fading into the darkness. Your heart beat loudly in your ears, fear consuming you at first, making it difficult to move your feet. You reached out for Seungmin but only found cold air, “Seungmin! Fuck.. you idiot, where are you!” Your calls for your best friend were unanswered.

Realizing the only way out of this stupid game was to get yourself out you began to move, turning on your flashlight helped. The couch that the men had been sitting on was now empty.. the word “mine” echoed throughout your head. He was probably just trying to scare you. You pushed through your muddied thoughts of Jeongin and made your way in what you thought was the direction of the main door.

Within minutes you knew you were wrong. It seemed to get darker the deeper into the building you went. The music faded a bit as your feet carried you on, hoping to find another way out. As you turned a corner, the light from your flashlight caught something. A figure leaned up against the wall, lit cigarette in hand. The person turned their face to you but it was covered with a black mask.

When he dropped his half smoked cigarette on the floor you bolted in the opposite direction. Hoping to lose him in the darkness. You found an open door and fled inside, shutting off your flashlight and pressing yourself between a naked mattress and a dresser, hoping to not be caught. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you tried to control your nerves.

It was only made worse when you heard the door shut and heavy boot clad footsteps drew closer to you. “Y/n, come out. I won’t hurt you.. I only want to play.” That voice.. metallic and smooth, you knew it was Jeongin and you covered your mouth with your trembling hand.

It was so dark in that room it seemed black. You could see him, only hear him moving around. You were certain he couldn’t see you and he would eventually get bored and move on.. that’s not what happened. Jeongins footsteps stopped right at your own feet. You could smell his cologne, a mix of spices and musk. “There you are, gorgeous.” He spoke tenderly but there was something else in his voice.. something dark.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked you into him. You began to fight with everything you had in you. Pushing and shoving against him as much as you could. It only made him laugh and hold onto you tighter. The lingering smell of cigarette smoke mixed with Jeongins cologne as he moved his face closer to yours. “You’re a feisty little one aren’t you?” He breathed against your lips, only a whisper away from kissing you.

Even though you were fighting him off a part of you didn’t want his warmth gone. You anticipated what would come next.. it was a scary thrill..

“That’s it.” He cooed softly and walked you back towards the wall until you were firmly pressed against it. Jeongin pulled off his mask throwing it to the floor. “Are you going to be like all the others and let this happen?” He questioned. You didn’t know if he was actually asking you but, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought it would beat right out of it.

Jeongin then pressed his warm lips to yours, kissing you deeply, possessively as if he owned you. Your knees weakened just a little and when he pulled away you felt yourself wanting those soft lips back on yours again. “Just like all the others.” He muttered before taking your lips hungrily, kissing you in a way no one had ever kissed you before. Greedily taking what he wanted.

His words did not sit well with you, just like the others? You thought to yourself and that’s when the fog was lifted from your haze just a little and you began to fight him again. You shoved him hard catching him off guard and making him stumble back a bit. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to make out a mischievous grin spread over his handsome features.

Jeongin seemed to enjoy the fact that you kept fighting him off. He came at you again, pressing his body into yours and gripping your wrists at your side so you couldn’t shove him anymore. His hungry lips found your neck, kissing and sucking at the tender skin there, even though the wetness between your thighs grew you kept trying your damndest to fight him off.

The odd thing was.. even though you kept fighting you never once used your voice to tell him to stop. At this point with his hard body pressed into yours. His hips now pressed into your spread legs.. did you even want him to stop?

The only sound that came from you was a gasp when you felt him bite down on your collarbone. It was a marvelous pain and you wanted more. Jeongin seemed to read your mind because he pulled you off the wall and shoved you hard onto the mattress. He stood over you for a moment, knowing he was the only one in control here no matter how hard you fought.

“Come here little one.. I’m not done playing yet.” His menacing voice lingered with your heavy breathing as he removed his belt fluidly with one hand before coming down on top of your body. You were covered in sweat and even though you wouldn’t admit it.. you craved to have your clothes off.. body pressed to his again. You wanted to see if he had more tattoos than just the ones on his hand.

Even though your body was reacting to him in the most feral way you kept moving, pushing him off, wiggling away from his grip. You were not going to make this easy for him. You turned your head to either side as he tried to kiss you again and when he did finally catch your lips you allowed him to kiss you. His hips bucking up into yours. Pressing his very prominent erection against your clothed cunt.

The friction was not enough, you wanted more. You seemed to be just a greedy as he was. Your lips kissing back furiously, wet tongues colliding with one another as you both wrestled for dominance. “Ahh, fuck!” Jeongin pulled back and you could taste a metallic tinge on your tongue.

You had bit him and you bit him hard, he hovered over you, out of breath and staring at you, taken back by your actions. “What, you can’t handle a little blood?” You asked, looking up at him defiantly.

That’s when something shifted in Jeongins eyes and he no longer held back. His large slender hands found the hem of your white T-shirt and ripped it off you exposing your heated skin to the cold, crisp air. You managed to tangle your fingers in his hair and you pulled hard making his head snap back before his lips could touch you.

The cruel bastard only smiled in the most sadistic manner before he forcefully pulled your hands back, caging you against the mattress and held you in place. He was no longer playing by the way he held you easily with one hand and the other yanked at your jeans, successfully pulling them down, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties.

“Be a good slut and let me look at you, little one.” Jeongins eyes roamed over your body but, you were hell bent on defying him. He was not going to win. This seemed to only amuse him as you thrashed beneath him. You never screamed though, never told him to stop. It was a very dangerous push and pull between you two in this moment.

Jeongins heated lips found yours in a wet, sloppy kiss. You didn’t know when he had time to free his hard cock but, you could now feel it

slide up your inner thigh and your body responded with a slight thrust of your hips. You hated it and loved it at the same time. The feel of him on top of you, his heat between your legs starting a fire in you that you let burn freely.

You could still taste the salty blood on his lips as you kissed him as if your life depended on it. Jeongins hand tightened on your wrists so he could push your panties to the side with his free one. They were soaked with your juices and he smiled against your lips knowing he was the reason behind it. “So fucking sexy and all mine.”

That’s when you felt him push into you, fast and hard. Greedily taking exactly what he wanted. No condom, nothing between you two. For the first time you made a sound, crying out as his length stretched you, an exquisite pain as he pulled out and slammed back into you.

You bucked your hips not knowing if you were still fighting him or seeking more of that lovely pain. His eyes watched your face twist in beautiful agony, his breath fanning over your swollen lips as he fucked you hard.

“Let me hear you, little one. Scream for me.” He mumbled against your lips. Your mouth wide open and eyes closed as you arched your back, pressing your stomach against his… you trying to calm the burn inside your body, that string pulling tight in your lower abdomen.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum.. or making you scream for him. His hands let go of your wrists only to hold your hips down in place on the mattress so he could fuck you as hard as he wanted. His balls slapping against you as he drove into you bottoming out over and over again.

Your juices making it so easy for him to slip into you, filling you up so well. You couldn’t help it , your body was reacting to his and the way he stared at you drove you insane, watching each expression move across your pretty face. “Fuck!.. Jeomgin!” you cried out as your legs began to shake and you gripped at his back pulling him closer to you. You tried so hard to hold on to your orgasm and not let him win. Within seconds you were moaning as that delicious feeling took over you, and your walls squeezed right around Jeongins thick cock. Orgasm was long and the best you had felt in so long.

His moans were just as loud as your cries and just when you thought he was about to explode Jeongin pulled out of you spurting his hot seed all over your lower stomach and red sensitive pussy.

You lay there trying to catch your breath and he sat back looking at you. Not a word being uttered between you two until he slowly stood and pulled his pants back up. Jeongin pulled off his shirt and dropped it on your chest. “Clean yourself.” He then leaned down, kissed your lips one last time, “Thanks little one.” He whispered before heading for the door.

You sat up instantly covering yourself, “That’s it?!” You asked incredulously. “You fuck me then bolt!” He stopped and stood in the doorway pulling out a cigarette and putting it between his swollen and bitten lips, “That’s it for now.. but don’t forget, little one. You’re mine.”

With a cocky grin that spread across his face making him look like a little boy he winked at you and was gone.

You got dressed and slowly stood on shaky legs all the whole cursing him and yourself for letting him do those things to you and knowing deep down you liked it. “Y/n! There you are.” Seungmins familiar voice filled the room making you jump a little. “What happened to you?” He stepped closer and pushed back a few strands of your hair that had fallen in your face.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You swatted his hands away and began to walk towards the door. “You have marks on your neck and face.” You touched your face only then noticing the marks on your wrists. “I’m fine, Jesus stop being so nosy. I’m ready to go home.” Your best friend gave a weary look. He obviously didn’t believe you but he didn’t question you anymore. He took you home and all the while you were seething with anger and hurt.

The only comforting thought.. you would probably never see Jeongin again.. or so you thought.

Tags: @moonndustx

[hashbrowpn]

──★ ˙WHAT ARE YOU? ̟ !?

YOU WEREN'T AWARE that mermaids, sirens, all those, truly existed. After all, you spent nearly all your years at sea, so it was only right you could assume so ... but he certainly proved you wrong.

NOTES: dont mind me just walking by .. *accidentally drops my bag full of pirate!reader x merman!muichiro*

You stand with your heart beating fast, you can hear it in your ears. Waves crash over the deck, wracking the ship. Rain pelts down like stones, accompanied by lightning that lights the gray  and stormy night up like an explosion. 

You reach into your pocket for a bar of chocolate to compose yourself.

You see something in the corner of your eye.

Whipping your head around, you lean over at the railings, and you catch sight of it again.

It was no fish, you were sure. Because no fish had eyes so... 

...human.

 It gazes up at you with suspicion, and dives off.

"Hey!" inclining yourself further, you desperately search for this divine creature.

You nearly fall over the ledge, but someone catches your wrist.

"Careful," Shinobu warned, her voice both a whisper and a yell over the noise. You stopped to look at her, her crisp white shirt, adorned with intricate lace at the cuffs, frayed brown trousers and heavy black boots. She gives you a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes. You nod, swallowing, and mutter a "Thank you,"

You slip out of her grasp and your eyes rove over the raging sea, but your train of thought is broken with a shout.

"Guys! there's a leak!" Mitsuri cries as she scrambles to look for something to patch up the giant hole in the wooden floors. 

You swear under your breath as you try to desperately wrack your brains for something to help, glancing over at the three little girls and Aoi whimpering in the corner as Shinobu consoles them, heart wrenching.

Kanao comes to help as her hands fumble clumsily at the makeshift she had crafted to patch it up, but water still seeped through. As your chest tightens with anxiety, there came an ear-splitting crack. The three little girls screamed. Overhead, the lightning still roars, and below, the waves still crash. 

You turn to Mitsuri in panic. "Did you hear that?"

Mitsuri looked at you slowly, green eyes as big as saucers, but before she could even open her mouth to speak, the floorboards beneath you gives away, and you fall into the icy embrace of the sea.

The sea breeze is cold, and it leaves a taste of salt in your mouth. The sand tickles your feet as you kick your way around it. 

You look around. Ah, you're dreaming.

The ocean's surface shimmers like a canvas painted with the liquid gold of the sun. It's so tranquil, so peaceful. You let out a relieved sigh.

The sea washes a few shells at the shore. As you take one, it's beauty so enchanting, you pocket it and trudge through the sand and into the peaceful waters.

But it isn't as expected.

The water is cold, too cold for your liking. But as you try to get out, you find the seaweeds beneath you had found their way up your feet and shackled your ankles.

The sky turns gray again.

The seaweeds drag you back, and you cry out for help, screaming until your throat gives out, until the water in up to your neck—

"Hey."

"Aah!" you wake up cold but sweating, shaking, covered in sea weed, sand, and God knows what. "Eugh!" you wail after eyeing an odd looking thing stuck to your finger, and shaking it off violently, before your eyes settled on...

what in the world?

"What the-?" you shuffle backwards, realizing you were on shore. The sunkissed sand sticks to you as you back away. 

It gazed at you. Hypnotizing eyes, eyes the color of the sea on a beautiful afternoon. And oh, hair like a black canvas fading into the same color as his wonderous eyes. Your eyes drifed to his body... a tail instead of two human legs. He was leaning on his arm, his other half in the water.

You stammer, "What... What are you? are you what i think you are...?"

He squints his eyes in annoyance, and merely plops back into the sea. 

"Hey! Hey wait!" you scurry to reach for him— and grab his wrist. You struggle to hold on, but he struggles to escape.

"Let go of me," he hisses, pulling harder. "You can talk," you say, flabbergasted.

"Are you underestimating me, human?" he seethes, then lets his head dip underwater and dives. You yelp, refusing to let go of him, even if that meant getting dragged into the sea.

It wasn't exactly a refreshing experience. 

Being drenched in sweat and being in ice cold water. You were sure to catch a cold after this, well, if there even was an after this.

You're losing air, but as soon as you plan to let go, he brings you back to shore again, pushing you into the sand. "Go." he says, irritation obvious as he shakes your hand off. "If you bug me one more time, i'm drowning you."

You're simply awestruck, at loss of words. He's beautiful.

You lean forward to touch his face, but he turns away forcibly. "What do you think you're doing?" he grouses. "I should have never saved you. I knew humans were stupid."

You try to speak. You can't speak.

It didn't quite matter where you were right now. You were focused on him.

He shakes his head and turns to leave, but you shout, "Wait!"

You undid the button of your pocket, and was ever so relieved when you took the chocolate bar in your hand. "U-uh, do you eat-?"

He eyed it just like how he eyed you when you were on the ship. "What's that?"

Before you could even answer, he snatched it from you and began chewing at the wrapper. "No wait, you have to..." you gestured to him to peel it off.

He took a bite into the chocolate and looked simply taken aback. "What is this?"

"Uhm... chocolate."

In a few seconds, he had already eaten the whole thing. "Do you have more?" he leaned in and began to search your trousers, palming at the pockets. "No, wait," you swatted his hand away. He looked at you, offended.

"I'll give you another if..." you swallowed, head spinning. Clearly, you weren't thinking straight. "If you tell me what you are, and who you are."

He raised a brow. "What I am?... Who I am?..." 

"Yes."

"...I don't quite remember."

You just look at him with several questions. But another more important one pops up. You swear under your breath. "Oh no, the ship, the others!"

You stand up, and you immediately almost fall over from dizziness. "Where even am I?" 

"I've forgotten too." 

You shake your head at him, annoyed. "Whatever. Now I'm stuck in God knows where with some Ariel asking me for my only food."

Massaging your temples, you sit down at the shore where the water washes away at your leather boots, and you reach into the cuffs of your sleeves, stained with dirt and sand, for a small piece of chocolate. You peel off the wrapper and bite on it, staring off distantly.

"Hey!" The merman calls, looking ever so photogenic in the water. He swims over to you, but before he could, you eat the last small piece of chocolate. His brows furrow as he looks at you as if it were the end of the world when you popped the last piece in your mouth. "How greedy," he muses. "I have to take it from you forcefully, then."

He leans over and takes your chin, and presses his lips against yours. 

It breaks your train of thought, and you yelp and try to pull him away, tangling your fingers in his wet locks, but he pushes you closer to him. 

Finally, he pulls away from you, licking his lips discreetly. He savours the chocolate he stole from you, and his brows lift a little as if having a realization. "I remember my name now," he says, gaze drifting off. "Tokito Muichiro. You've asked me that, yes?" 

[captain-mj]

Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

[cupids-chamber]

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒.. .ᐟ ❞ Shall we look underneath the tree? And see what he got you..

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Ortho's part is strictly platonic, each part is different. Also, I do not think I wrote the letters well, but I did smthing!!

— MALLEUS

Matching charm bracelets, engraved with the date the two of you first met. One of the greatest moments of his life. Small little dangling charms of Gargoyles attached to each bracelet. And if you squint your eyes, and check behind the heart charm, you'll find the engravings "M.Dracona +Y.L/n"

— LILIA

A scrapbook of all the memories he had shared with you, each page filled with your favorite colors and aesthetic. He put a lot of effort decorating everything just for you..

— SILVER

A small album, filled with all his favorite moments with you. He couldn't think of anything better, it seemed like the best gift.. A album of all the best memories he shared with you..

That's not to say that all the memories and moments he has created with you were bad, he loved all of them! But their are particular memories that fill him up with immeasurable warmth, and he hopes you'll feel the same.

— SEBEK

Sebek couldn't figure out what to give you, something that could highlight and really show you how much he loves you.. that's when Lilia pitched in a idea to him...

Sebek's gift was filled with multiple letters, in a handmade/hand painted box, the letters were filled with sweet messages for anytime he may have upset you.. He's not the best at expressing his love, but he hopes this gift could provide you some comfort..

— IDIA

He personally hands you the gift, it was a photo frame of sorts, a small blue bow displayed at it's front. The device flipped through photo's of the two of you together, and it held gif's and whatnot.. Attached with a audio box of your favorite songs.. "I made it myself.."

— ORTHO

A perfectly wrapped gift was displayed underneath the the tree, inside there's a small figure of you and Ortho holding hands, he didn't know what to give you, to be exact.. so, instead he choose to get you something sentimental.. He heard from a certain somewhere that sentimental gifts were much more thoughtful then others!

— KALIM

Kalim decided not to go too grand for the scenario, giving you a multitude of gifts would erase the sentiment of a gift in general..

Instead he choose to give you a few small handmade trinkets, and small things he saw you eyeing, efficiently showing that he pays attention to where your eyes travel when going out shopping or on dates.

— JAMIL

A small bracelet with your birthstone, he didn't quite know how to leave a lasting impression with his gift, but he knew he was happy for your birth.. so the aspect of a birth stone suited the scenario well..

— RIDDLE

A customized pen, with a small spell attached, so you can change the smoothness and colour, it's pretty friendly with people who want to learn cursive..

It'll have his name engraved, in a place where he assumes you wouldn't have noticed.. The gesture itself was lovely!

— TREY

A beautiful large basket, filled with all sorts of pastries.. Savory and spicy snacks. Everything specialized to your tastes, he paid close detail as to what you preferred eating when creating the basket, it was sure to last you for quite the while.

— CATER

A personalized acrylic map, it displayed the date of your first ever confession, and the place. The painting could have used a bit of work, but the gesture was filled with love..

— DEUCE

The gift box was black, with a blue spade on the top instead of a bow. The ribbon was carefully done, to have the gift look as pleasing as possible.. Inside you could find a music box, with a message! It read:

"To my dearest partner, I can't really express how I feel within words but you brighten up my day Seeing you smile makes me smile.. I love you"

— ACE

Couples bracelets, that looks like handcuffs. It's a stupid joke, when you ask him he'll say, "Then we'll literally be attached together". The joke may have not been what you expected, but the gesture was cute.

— VIL

A personally hand picked and assorted candle set, he finds candles extremely calming, and uses them when he needs a light stress reliever, he's been noticing you felt a bit stressed lately.. maybe it was Crowley? Regardless.. he can't have you dying on him, can he!?

So, he took the time and effort to make you a personally assorted candle set.

— ROOK

A collection of small bow pins, and whatnot.. Things to go on your hair, etc.. Essentially, a box of trinkets, that follow a hunting theme, some were cute bunnies the others were a variety of things!

He hand picked the trinkets, to make it all the more meaningful!

— EPEL

And engraved wood sculpture of an apple, carved with beautiful details.. The wood work was utterly beautiful, the gift would be wrapped in a small white box, with a sparkly purple ribbon..

A small note would be at the front:

"Not to be sweet or anything.. The design is inspired by my heart racing.. Whenever I speak with you"

— AZUL

A mini piano, it's completely playable. Yet it seems like it came out of a doll house, it's custom made to match one similar to what Azul has.. Something you have witnessed Azul playing first hand..

— JADE

A small necklace, in the shape of a letter.. In the back of it a small note and declaration of love was written, signed off as J.Leech.. (Yes these exist)

— FLOYD

A stunning art piece of you.. in puzzle form.. The trick is that there are over 1000 pieces.. And the two of you will need to work together to put it together..

Halfway through he'll get slightly bored, but since he caused this mess.. and he's doing it with you.. He'll enjoy it.

Plus your focused face is cute.

— LEONA

He's not good at sentimental gestures and whatnot, and definitely sucks in this category of giving. So, he decided to give you a necklace, engraved with his name of course..

He is your al-mighty Leona Kingscholar. (Who will never be king)

— RUGGIE

A handmade 30 day, scratch off.. Each day, you'll scratch and find a goovy picture of you two together, or a sweet message he wrote to you..

At the very last day, you'll find a small letter, it'll be a letter where he expresses his more vulnerable side, writing down how he truly feels for you..

— JACK

A personalized gift box, once unfolding it there will be many compartments you can open up and read notes, letters, quotes, etc from your lover!... As for the gift, he had a given you a handmade candle!

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation from me.

[chocochannie]

Brightest Star

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing: regulus black x gn!reader, fluff

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary: a night walk takes an unexpected turn

You were walking in the deep night through the castle's cold corridors. Lost in your thought, you saw the dim moonlight shining outside lighting the grass outside.

There was something about wandering around alone at night, but you couldn't resist thinking how badly you yearn for more from life. Being alone was fun, but being lonely wasn't. You thought about all of the group of friends always talking, sitting and playing together, and how your heart aches every time you see it. You had a few friends, of course, but they seemed to get along better without you. You've thought about how maybe you're just overreacting, and maybe they're not the type of people you'd be around all the time, but how long could you wait for people so dear to your heart that you'd never think about anything like this again?

Hearing quiet and distant laughing, you drifted more into your thoughts, finally arriving at your destination. Walking to the astronomy tower in the middle of the night was an everyday occurrence for you. Nobody ever bothered you there, and the sky painted with bright stars was your dearest sight. Taking out a pack of cigarettes that you almost went crazy trying to get at hogwarts, you sought out constellations you knew.

Virgo, hydra, cancer, and so on. Taking a drag, you helplessly started to think again. Picking up smoking made you think your problems would go away, but they stayed just as the addiction did. Thinking over and over again probably made it worse, but what could you do? Who could you talk about it? Of course, the greatest advice you've gotten is to go out and make some friends, it's not like you've never tried it's just that people rather stay in their circles instead of adopting a stranger into their pack.

You were cruel to yourself for those thoughts, but even more for being deadly jealous of the marauders.

Picture them, a perfectly balanced group, good-looking with the ability to get whoever they want, extremely funny, witty yet smart. Pranks of theirs always made everyone's day, including even some slytherins. Seeing them walking past you and greeting everyone they knew at the same time made you so incredibly envious of what they have. And it made you think how pathetic your tries are. Their unbreakable friendship was incomprehensible to you.

Distracted by your thoughts, you didn't hear someone walking up the stairs and going up to the very same railing you were hunched over. A rather loud bang snapped you back to reality.

Gathering yourself, you turned around to see Regulus Black standing at the top of the stairs in his usual dark clothes. His hair was messy, probably from waking up, his gaze unreadable as usual. After a while of silence, he decided to join you, keeping his distance.

"Smoking?" his voice quiet.

You nodded in reply, offering him one, which he took without thinking twice. Your gaze landed on him as he lit it up and exhaled the smoke into the cold night air after taking a long drag. Sometimes, you would catch yourself staring at him in the class, fearing he would catch you, but you couldn't help resist it. His features were so godly, his deep blue eyes always seemed to catch yours, his dark curls framed his face perfectly, and his long, slender fingers leafed through the book with grace.

"Couldn't sleep?" he suddenly asked, turning to you.

"Never can." You replied as you watched the breeze cause his dark curls to move along his face.

"Me neither." The wind was picking up again, and another dark curl fell across his forehead. He did nothing to brush it aside, as if he was too preoccupied staring at you.

Looking back at the stars, you felt your cheeks fire up but don't know whether it's from the cold or the man's strong gaze.

"Do you like the stars?" he asked after filling his lungs with nicotine once more.

"A lot, I study them often."

"I assume you have a favorite star then?" his voice was now warmer and gentle.

Looking as the night sky bathes him in its soft light, you answered.

"I suppose I do... but i don't know its name. It's the brightest one in the leo constellation, and every time I come here, it seems like it's shining just for me."

"Oh? That one?" his finger guided your gaze to the star.

"Yeah! Do you know the name of it?" Your eyes were shining bright from the night sky.

"It's Regulus" he says as he smirks.

"Oh.. really? Sorry if it's weird.." turing your head to him, you tried not to make things ever more weird. Why does something like this happens when you try to talk to somebody new?

"Don't stress, it's fine" smile could be heard from his voice.

After a while of silence, being broken only by sounds of exhaling smoke, he spoke again, but with a tone in his voice, you couldn't wrap your head around.

"You remind me of the moon."

"I remind you of what?" being completely taken aback, you turned your head to him, but he was already watching you.

"You're mysterious and magical in so many ways, and you probably don't notice that. You're compassionate, kind, wise, and you can see the beauty of everything."

You stared at his pale skin with pink tinted lips, not knowing what to do or even say.

"But, you don't even know me?"

"You catch my eye whenever I see you. Your eye color is my favorite one, I can see how every time someone mentions art you get excited, I notice how you're the only one who says goodbye to the teacher after the class is dismissed, I can see how you don't talk much to your friends knowing you have an unimaginable amount of things to share. The way you treat cats near the castle, the way you help first years to find their classes, the way you put so much effort in making the perfect potion, I see it all. I see you. And I wanna know you more, I wanna know your deepest darkest secrets, and your sweet dreams. I wanna know your opinions and they way you prefer your tea. I want to know you." his eyes were looking straight into yours, and you could feel the emotions flowing through him.

The breeze was getting stronger, messing up his hair further, but the only thing he focused on was you.

You couldn't form a single sentence. The way he talked to you fully emerged in emotions, made something inside you go soft. Softer than it ever was before. You made your mind quickly grabbing him by the collar, dropping your cigarette to the ground and kissing him. Something you wanted to do for ages. His soft lips felt like honey on yours, while his curls under your hands were delicate like flowers. melting into his touch, you let him take control, still tasting the cigarette on him. He was treating you as a doll that's about to fall apart. Pulling away to catch breaths felt like breaking a spell. Your eyes met again with lust.

"I want you to know me." holding his face with your eyes, you broke into a smile. "You're my brightest star" you spoke so quietly you didn't even know if the boy heard you, but looking at how his face lit up and his eyes shone, you were certain he will hear everything you say.

masterlist

[xipool]

Wade talks and talks, like a decapitated chicken still running even after its head has been sliced clean off. His words run fast and relentlessly, as if compensating for something else, as if he can’t stop- won’t stop for fear of the consequences. Unable to relax, to rest – he just has to keep going.

He talks so his hammer of annoying references and crude remarks can slam down and suppress the spiral of horrid thoughts that worm their way into his head. How he deserved every bit of torture and pain that sears through his veins, how the people around him don’t deserve to live around a sick fucking freak like him. How he abandons and strands the crowd around him, leaves them to drown. They’re better off without him.

Every rough pock mark on his skin serves as a reminder of the abuse Francis dragged him through – Vanessa made the attempt to ease the insecurity, saying they were scars indicating his survival, how he’d crawled out of purgatory and lived to tell the tale. But he knew – a snapshot – when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her eyes would flash with slight contempt. Whether it be kindred to a bubbling disgust for his appearance or just the man he is.

“You had a girlfriend?” 

He had snorted to himself at the question, but didn’t blame the man. He barely knew him, and even those who gave him their undeserved time could probably offer the same curiosity.

Inevitable, their separation was. Wade Winston Wilson is not a soul that can keep company clinging for long. Hanging up the red and black spandex just kept the wheels turning, hurtling towards a final argument that was a long time coming.

“I’m right here.” 

No he fucking wasn’t. They both knew it – he was detached, flippant and unserious. He could never care about something bigger than himself.

“I know how to fuck people up for money, but you know how to save them.”

That’s all he was: a mercenary. A bad guy paid to fuck up worse guys. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t even a decent human mutant. Generally, he was an asshole – at the very least, a menace to society. He jaywalked and scared the fuck out of innocent, unsuspecting kids by pulling the most horrid face he could contort his features into. He stole and he bitched. And he fucking enjoyed it. He practically got off to pissing people off. 

He ignores the guilt that settles in his stomach. He couldn’t possibly care about something bigger than himself. 

Until he saved the world, fuck that- he saved the multiverse. He’d spurred himself on with the thought of Vanessa, that everything he’d aspired to do, everything he did – was for her. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

His motivation’s doubt settled in during the tussle in that godawful vehicle, the Honda fuckin’ Odsyssey. He craved violence and turmoil, the low, dull hum of the cancerous aches were simply tedious but the sting of something breaking skin and ripping flesh, even tearing bone was heavenly. Each splatter of blood quashed his inner critic, without the need for mindless commentary: his self-hatred had simmered down. It wouldn’t be out of left field to assume the man had developed some kind of arousal for the sensation, but the way the Wolverine broke him down and tore him apart in that fucking car left him with tingles running wild under his skin long after their scuffle had ceased. He’d admitted it, it fucked hard.

Wade had often turned to dirty sex – no strings attached – to quiet the voices, in the hopes of achieving some sort of post-orgasm stupor that would shut the sound up, but his efforts were to no avail.

And he knew, he fucking knew. His mutation may not have granted him heightened senses, but he could practically smell Logan’s bloodthirsty reciprocation. He too, found himself in ripping limbs and slashing muscle, in painting his surroundings crimson and vigorous stabbing. The savage grin that played on his lips as blood dripped onto his face, into his beard and mouth and painted his skin red, it practically goaded the merc on. His simple return of the cut-throat favour kept him going, kept his onslaught powering through, despite the absolute decimation of the Odyssey.

Vanessa might have matched Wade’s crazy, but Logan matches his freak.

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Chapter 1) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood bestfriend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings : none Pairings : Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader Word Count : 1923 Poetry style | Story style A/n: here, my lovelies, is chapter one. Not proofread srry lolsies. Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

one; y/n. 

There was something about it, something in the early morning rays reflecting off the cherry-red paint that just wiped away all exhaustion previously held in your bones. You were wide awake as you stared at the cars being rolled off the truck and into the garage. It was only five am but the sun had already crept over the horizon well enough to illuminate the sight in front of you. Golds and reds, blacks and yellows all mixed into a work of art nobody else could recreate. This is what you were here for. This is what you were living for.

“Gorgeous, innit’?”

You turned to your left, face to face with two others donning the same uniform as you. The woman who had spoken seemed a bit older than you, but now way had she yet reached her thirties. A man was accompanying her, although his eyes rested not on you, but on the tyres now being rolled out of the truck. He seemed close to her age, his deep-tanned skin a high contrast to hers.

You smiled at her before looking down at your lanyard. It was still so hard to process being here, on a Thursday morning in Bahrain, waiting for the weekend that was about to ensue. You were one of them now. You were an insider, a person that got to see everything on a deeper level. People dreamed of getting here, people worked their whole lives in hopes of getting here and yet here you were, 23 years old and face-to-face with Carlos Sainz’s car. It looked so much better in-person.

“It really is.” You sighed, looking back up. The truck was empty now, they were beginning to close the back door. “I still can't believe I’m here.”

The blonde lady leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your badge. “Y/n y/ln? You're new, huh?”

You turned to meet her eyes, a large smile on your face. “Yes, I just graduated University.”

“What an amazing first job to have then.” She smiled back. The man beside her now looked at you as he adjusted the ballcap on his head. “I'm Bridgette, but everyone in the garage just calls me Bridge.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You extended out a hand which she gratefully accepted.

“This is Lorenzo.” Bridgette nodded to the man who offered a toothless smile and his hand. “Enough standing around, we’ve got work to do. Walk with us.”

So you did. The garage wasn’t too far away, just around the corner, but Bridgette loved to talk; that you quickly found out. “Where are you from?” Was her first question.

“Bristol.”

“I hear it’s nice. They’ve got that beautiful river running through it, no?” She asked, looking straight ahead. You just nodded, unsure if she saw your response, but when she kept going you assumed she had. “I’m from Perth. Nothin’ quite like Australia, I must say.” “Isn’t Lando from Bristol?” Lorenzo added. His accent was thick as he spoke.

You nodded again, this time opting to expand on the question. “He is, yeah. We actually grew up together.”

Bridgette turned her head to look at you. “No way! Why didn’t your mate get you a job over at Mclaren?”

A blush coated your cheeks. You didn’t know where it came from, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, hell, maybe even sadness. Lando wouldn’t have put in a good word for you, not today. Perhaps seven years ago when the two of you were teenagers and on a completely different page, but not now.

“We don't talk like we used to. He was gone a lot but he moved away for good when he was seventeen. He never really looked back, either.” You sighed. An odd sense of pity hung over the three of you. In an attempt to lighten the mood you clapped your hands together and smiled at the two engineers next to you. “But he got me into cars and engineering! So, I owe him a thanks for that.”

Bridgette nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. “There ya’ go.”

The next few moments were rushed. The three of you entered the garage where people worked on putting everything into place. You were introduced to management and owners, mechanics and bosses. Tyres were being placed on racks, tarps were being placed over backup cars, tool boxes were being passed around. It was thrilling, even if you were just standing on the sidelines watching as it all happened. Soon, however, someone called your name. You were sure it was Bridgette or Lorenzo, but it was someone else. Alessandro, Charles' chief mechanic, was heading straight for you, clipboard in hand.

“Have you been assigned a team yet?”

“No, sir.”

He smiled. “Call me Alessandro. No need for formalities. But anyways,” He looked down at the clipboard then back up at you. “Our front jack guy broke his wrist and I need someone to replace him. Care to run some drills?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. “I would be honored.”

“Awesome.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Let's go get you a suit and helmet, then.”

x

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the spot.” Bridgette sipped her coffee. “You absolutely crushed it.”

You blushed, rolling your finger around the rim of your cup. The Ferrari motorhome was gorgeous with its meeting rooms and rooftop balcony, with its relaxation spots and cafe. It really put into perspective where you were and who you were working for.

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The day had gone by rather quickly. The sun was already setting over the desert and exhaustion clung to your body just as tightly as the uniform you wore. You’d spent hours running drills, practicing the most simple yet vital job-jacking the car up. You did it over and over again, improving with every run. After that you were tasked with doing inventory. Sure, it was a small task, one that didn’t require you to get hands on with the car, but it was still important. You wandered the garage counting tyres, drills, wrenches, going through tool bags and drawers. It helped you get situated in the space, to learn the layout and whereabouts of everything. Once you had finished that, you were offered to help wash Charles’ back up car. You gladly obliged, happy to be finally touching the car at least. You washed the tyres, the halo, the rear wing and a bit of the body before standing back to revel in the beauty of the car. It seemed to shine, even in the dim garage lighting. You felt so fulfilled, so privileged, so at home.

“Alessandro likes to give everyone a shot, he doesn’t discriminate.” Bridgette continued. “Today might have been your lucky break.”

“I’d be happy even being a back-up jack, honestly. Just wearing the fire suit and helmet makes me feel all,” you paused looking for the right word to describe it. “Giddy.”

“Well,” Lorenzo began, setting his phone face down on the table. “He needs to pick tonight so we can have that person participate in tomorrow's practice. You should know if you got it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Guess I’ll be tossing and turning all night, then.” You joked.

A small laugh cluttered the table. It was getting late, the track becoming more and more empty with each passing moment. The motorhome was silent, save for the three of you lingering around. “We should go grab the last shuttle to the hotel,” Bridgette stood, taking one last swig from her cup before tossing it into a bin. “Are the two of you coming?”

Lorenzo stood up, as did you. “I left my bag in the lockers. I can wait for the next one if you both would like to go.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “We can wait for you at the front gate.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be quick.”

You jogged through the paddock, grateful that the heat had subsided. Lights poured out of each garage, illuminating pit lane in a way the sun hadn't. The sun, harsh and bright, brought a form of intimidation onto the pavement. The lights however, soft and orange, seemed to bring peace. It was a gentle reminder that at the end of the day, everything would be alright.

You dodged into the Ferrari garage, running to the back lockers to retrieve your backpack. Although your head was almost completely submerged in the metal box, you could hear faint-chatter? You leaned back, wondering if Bridgette and Lorenzo had come to find you. No, it didn’t sound like them. The voice sounded much more familiar. It was like listening to one of your favorite songs after a long while.

Lando paused at the entrance of the garage. His phone was pressed into his ear. He stared at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Did he know it was you? Could he see you? Did he even remember what you looked like?

You swung your bag over your shoulders and closed the locker. As you approached, Lando lifted his brows, erasing the confused look on his face. He surely could see you now.

“Hey, I gotta call you back.” He sighed. “Yeah, everything is good. See you tomorrow.”

A few feet separated you and him. You debated on starting conversation, on asking how he’s been. But you decide just to nod and walk past him. That is your plan until he stops you.

“Y/n?”

You pressed your lips together in a flat smile. “Hey, Lando.”

He looked you up and down. You were uncertain if he found your Ferrari uniform insulting or fitting. What if you were wearing papaya? What if you were sporting  orange instead of red? Would he be looking at you in the same way?

“So you really did make it, huh?” Lando crossed his arms over his chest, smirking as you avoided eye contact.

“I suppose so.”

“Have they assigned you a driver?”

You looked up for the first time since your conversation began. A bit of pride swelled in your chest as you said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Charles Leclerc.”

He blinked hard, shocked that you landed not only a job with the most infamous F1 team, but on their star drivers car. Maybe you were better than you let on. Maybe it was more luck. But deep down Lando knew how good you were. He was able to experience it first hand as a kid.

“Wow. Most people remain without a designated driver for their first year. They kinda’ just float around doing all the dirty work. At least, that's how it is at Mclaren.”

“Right.” You gripped your backpack straps like a kid. “Good thing I'm not over there, then.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you fell quiet, only the sound of nearby passing cars and people walking by filled the air. To any bypasser this surely looked sketchy. Lando Norris, Mclarens golden boy, and a new engineer for an opposing team, just staring at one another. How odd.

You broke the silence first saying, “Well I’ve gotta’ go. I have some friends waiting for me to catch the shuttle.”

Lando just nodded, staring at the ground as you walked by. As you passed Carlos’ garage, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

You could barely hear it with the way he spoke so quietly. But you stopped, turning your head and offering a real, genuine smile. “Yeah,” You breathed out.

He smiled back. “Good luck.”

[stagefoureddiediaz]

hi!! I’ve read and loved your color theory and costume metas for a while now. I know the 8x06 stills literally JUST came out like 5 mins ago, but do you have any initial thoughts on them? I thought maybe the black jacket Tommy was wearing while he’s frowning might’ve meant something, but I’m literally clueless about the topic. (What I’m trying to say is, what do you think of them?)

Hope you have a good day! Can’t wait for 8x06

Hey!

How lovely to hear that you enjoy my metas! 🥰

I have so many thoughts on the costumes I’ve seen in these stills!

Firstly - lots of yellow and blue theory going on in t his episode - its literally everywhere we look - the calls are all yellow blue coded from what we can see from the stills - the woman at the first call (which hI’m assuming is the divorcee one) is in yellow and blue, the man is wearing blue trousers and blue plaid patterning on his jacket and she stands in front of a very yellow/blue coded painting. Eddie is sat in front of blue parasols when he talks to Hot priest. The kid who goes into the well to rescue his brother is also wearing yellow and blue and the house they’re in front of has yellow walls, not to mention the tripod the 118 are using is yellow. I’m screaming a little bit about the fact that we have Buck and Eddie both inside the tripod as well - that is not something we see - ever - they’d always one of them on The outside of the tripod or they are both outside of it - and considering we last saw one in 704 - when they were both outside of the tripod and divided by a pole - it feels pretty significant to me!

Bucks brown jacket is making my eyeballs pop out of my head - the two directions of the stripes suggests confusion and the little triangles details where buttons would be feels significant as well, plus its a very orangey brown - which plays very nicely into my theory about the season being orange and brown colour coded - and we’ve seen Buck in far more orange and especially brown this season than we’ve ever seen him before - which I am very intrigued by and also excited for.

We also keep getting him in white shirts this season - it feels like something pretty significant is brewing for him - we’ve not really had the payoff for all the white shirts we’ve seen up to now and they have always meant Buck in danger before this season. I still think this holds true. I just think that we’re going for a build up to something significant for him - what that is I am not yet sure - It’s something I keep meaning to look at a bit more, I just haven’t had the time to yet!

Then we have Buck in green and Tommy in black.

The Buck in green thing is very interesting to me - the tee is slightly on the too large size - which is in keeping with how they have been dressing Buck this season - we’ve had the slow progression over season 7 of his clothes fitting him correctly for the first time since season 3 as he figures out he’s bi, and then as his relationship with tommy had its false start the clothes were ill fitting and then they fit pretty well - up until 801, since then, we’ve seen them generally be on the slightly too large side of things - suggesting that while he’s more comfortable in his own skin, things are still not quite a perfect fit - it’s interesting to me that generally speaking - if Eddie is in the scene then the clothes fit a bit better than if he isn’t! This green shirt is no exception - it’s slightly too big and it’s dark green.

The dark green matches the break up hoodies and jumpers of Ali and Taylor - its not quite the same colour - this one is more of a dark olive green where the other 3 are much more of a bottle green as you can see above - but I actually think this is a good and interesting thing. The most interesting thing is the progression of what Buck is wearing though. We have a zip front hoodie with a blue hood lining when Ali breaks up with him - and it’s worn over a black tee. Then we have a hoodie when buck confesses to kissing Lucy - the fact we go from two layers of clothing (visible) to one is in and of itself interesting the fact that we’re still in a hoodie though is an indication of the fact that Buck is still in a similar place to when Ali broke up with him - expecting Taylor to do the same with the hoodies symbolising self soothing - they are generally representative of giving ones self a hug! Then we move onto the knit sweater in the same green for the actual break up with Taylor - we’ve moved down from thick self soothing hoodies to a much thinner sweater and now we’ve made it to a t-shirt. It’s suggestive of Buck taking an increasing amount of control and confidence of his life and his relationships - and if they’re serving him - that he’s prepared to end things on his terms if he doesn’t think the relationships is worth pursuing because he is sacrificing too much of himself to stay in it.

I don’t think this is going to be the break up scene to be honest - I just think its going to be the scene that makes it clear that the relationship is on a time limit - that this scene will kick start things towards a break up! Part of my reason for that is because Tommy is in black and not in blue!

I do want to point out that behind Tommys head we have a new coat rack - replacing the bike Buck has had hung there before. The departure of the bike without brakes interests me - it again plays into the idea that Buck is more in control of his life - that it isn’t out of control and that he can put the brakes on things if he wants to. But I digress - what I actually want to point out is the fact that on the one side of Tommys head is a pair of jackets hanging up - one green and one blue, and on the other side of his head is a yellow ochre jacket. Now green/blue is the colours of break ups, but its also a colour way we see on Buck and Eddie a fair amount when they’re together - the previous episode is a perfect example of this. Yellow is also the colour of communication, but it is also Eddies colour - the one we’ve only seen him wear once - in the lasagne scene of 601 - those jackets are important. They are creating the idea that the Eddie of it all is always lurking and present in the background!

Tommy being in Black is a play on his general colour theming - he generally wears dark colours and black especially. Not all the time, but generally speaking. I’ll do an updated costume list for him if I have the time in the next few days as I’ve been keeping track of his costumes and it’s pretty telling about when he wears what colours. The shirt is very very similar to Eddies black shirts - the western style pockets and poppers - it’s just more washed out and faded than Eddies have been. This is a deliberate choice - to contrast him with Eddie and also with himself - the washed out nature of the shirt is likely intentional - the black shirt he wore in 805 was not washed out, so this suggests he is both a washed out faded version of Eddie, but also that he is fading out of Bucks life - its all subtle, but in combination, all these small things add up to help with the storytelling and are showing us that Tommy is not likely going to be around for too much longer!

The thing that I’m most fascinated about with the black shirt though, is the fact he is located in the same place we saw a Eddie sitting in 705 - when he talks about having to break up with Marisol, and also where Buck comes out to him. I’m really interested to see if we get a contrast between that scene with Eddie and this one with Tommy. A scene talking about a possible break up - and about just being friends and hanging with the boys and then showing Eddie being a super supportive friend seems like the perfect scene to use to continue to show the contrast between Eddie and Tommy. It perfectly builds on what We’ve already been seeing all season - this ever increasing space between Buck and Tommy and the very loud and clear way they’re are showing how much Buck and Eddie know and trust and accept one another in comparison with the way Buck and Tommy clearly don’t. It’s one of the things I enjoyed most about 805 - the way they showed Tommy only really going near Buck when othered we’re present - then the distance started to grow as soon as he took up residence on the couch overnight - here we have a scene where it appears we’re going to get the vast space of the kitchen counter between them - it parallels the first kiss scene from 704 as well - in the opposite direction - especially interesting as it places Tommy near the door - a place we’ve yet to see him near again since that first kiss in 704 - feels very much like we’re supposed to view it as him heading out of the door and out of Bucks life (remember they did a similar thing with Taylor in the build up to the break up and immediately after it!).

The other thing to point out is the brightness of the lighting - I know these are stills and so generally taken with a different camera and from a different angle, but the fact remains that the set is very brightly lit and it won’t darken that much with whatever filter they have on the camera, so the brightness of the loft when Tommy is there compared with when Eddie is there is pretty telling - the starkness versus the intimate low lighting - the coolness of Tommy versus the warmth of Eddie.

Hope this is interesting for you and that you enjoy it. I can’t wait to see how the scenes play out - How close to the money I am on things and getting to see what direction they’re taking things! Thanks for the ask!

[kinardsevan]

snapshot.

(finally fulfilling that prompt @30somethingautisticteacher sent me about Tommy dropping facts at an art museum / aka, me abusing my art degree.)

They stroll into the museum and Evan is all but bouncing on his heels as they wait to get through admission. Ever since Tommy mentioned going for a day date, he’s been on a deep dive on the Rembrandt collection currently on display. He has so many fun facts he’s excited to share with Tommy that he couldn’t even keep them all to himself  until they made it into the exhibit. 

“Did you know he painted over 300 paintings in his life,” he’d told Tommy on the drive over. And Tommy had responded the same way he always did, always invested in his deep dives. 

“Really, babe? What else?”

He’d launched into half a dozen facts about the artist while they were still on the 10 before remembering that he wanted to save the best for when they actually got to the museum.

So he’s a little thrown when, after getting past admission, Tommy leads him down into the basement instead of up towards the third floor where he knows the collection is stored. 

“Where are we going,” he asks, being pulled along by Tommy’s fingers interlaced with his. He’s not upset, but he’s definitely curious by this change in plans. 

They make into the basement and around a corner, through an open doorway.

“Photo department is always in the basement,” Tommy murmurs as they start walking into the room. “Why they keep them hidden away from the light is beyond me, but…” 

Evan follows after him, watching with rapt attention as Tommy leads him forward, towards the first set of photographs. They’re black and white prints; portraits. A man at a desk with books stacked in front of him. Another man at a kitchen table from the 60s, metal lunch pale in front of him. A bed with a stuffed animal on it. 

“Chauncey Hare,” Tommy states softly, not wanting to interrupt other people’s study of the photographs in the room. “He started out at Standard Oil Company and ended up shooting all this work on the bullshit that goes on in the work place. Got a degree in psychology and abandoned it all to work with his second wife on working against workplace abuse.” 

Evan looks up at Tommy then, a little baffled. Tommy tugs his hand gently, pulling him further along to see more of the pictures. There’s one of a girl sitting in who Evan assumes in her father’s lap, facing the camera. Two other men also facing the camera but not in focus are also in the image. A blonde girl holding a cigarette in the next. A child without a shirt on, laying in someone’s lap. 

“Sally Mann,” Tommy tells him as he continues to stare at the picture of the little girl holding the cigarette. “She shoots a lot of stuff, but her bread and butter are her family, even now. There’s been a lot of controversy over her work because of the state of nudity, but-...” 

“It’s amazing,” Evan murmurs, almost a whisper. He can’t stop looking at the picture of the daughter with the cigarette. 

Tommy keeps pulling him along, showing him pictures, talking about the artists, moving through decades of images, until they’re standing in front of newer work. Color photos. 

Children standing in a doorway. A boy at a table, looking at the camera as an adult holds a baby in the background. Sisters—a blonde and a ginger—next to each other. Three boys on the floor in front of empty chairs. A woman laying in bed holding a small blonde child of maybe one or two, bathed in sunlight. 

“Jessica Todd Harper,” Tommy says as Evan reads the label next to the image. “She shoots her family too. Some posed, some not. Always trying to tell a story about family interactions and complex relationships.” 

Evan stares at him, utterly enamored as they walk out of the area, head back towards the stairs.

“We can still go see the paintings,” Tommy tells him. “I just… I like the photography.” 

Evan stops walking, pulls Tommy back when he keeps moving. His boyfriend looks back at him, gives a small smirk. 

“Did I steal your thunder,” he asks, a little bit sheepishly so. 

Evan shakes his head, stepping into Tommy’s space, resting his hand on his chest. 

“I like it when you let me in like this,” he murmurs. “When you share.” 

Tommy’s smile widens a bit more, even as his cheeks flush. 

“I just think…most people don’t think a lot about what’s happening in an image. Is it real? Or is it just a concept of what you think is real? Is it telling an actual story, or just the version of a story you’ve decided on?And what makes one more important than the other? Is digital better than film? Some people think nothing will ever top painting, others think digital photography is a hack and doesn’t have the same connotations as film photography because there’s less effort in the process,” he states. He pauses for a moment, somehow getting pinker in the cheeks. “That’s what I nerd out about.” 

Evan grins at him and then leans forward pecking him on the lips. 

“Well we’re just gonna have to go see more photo exhibitions then,” he says when he pulls away. “Can’t have you holding out on me now.” 

Tommy rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He tilts his head towards the stairwell again. “Come on. Tell me all you researched about Rembrandt.” 

(I posted all of these pictures on my feed if you want to see them!!!!)

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Twenty-One: Friend Or Foe, Part II

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: amnesia, needles, guns, death, guilt

[A/N: since the last chapter showed what steve was up to, i figured we should find out what was happening to mini hopper over here... *hint* it's not fun]

Friend Or Foe, Part II

“Which is why I’m sorry.”

You push him, the faceless boy, into a void. There are so many noises echoing across concrete walls, a splintering boulder bashing against the door, your only exit.

At first, you just stand there, staring as the open wall closes itself, a cry of your name thrown from the other side. And then you hear snarls, growls, monsters. You run.

But there is nowhere to run.

You’re caged in a corner, creatures drawn from the shadows, covering your face as you prepare for the end.

“WAKE UP”

You wake up with a gasp, twisting the soft cushion below you and immediately open your mouth to call for- Your breath stops in your throat. Who were you calling for?

Leaning on your elbow, you take a look around the furnished room. You fell asleep on the couch again. How many times was this now? At least eight, you think. You aren’t entirely sure how many days you’ve been down here.

You send a quick glance to the new pile of clothes waiting on the armchair opposite, a soft frown pinching your eyebrows. You still didn’t know where Brenner got them from. He left a different assortment every so often. You tried not to think about if they came from a deserted store, or somewhere much more morbid.

As you walk past, you grab a grey sweatshirt and pull it over, staring down at the sleeves.

You’ve worn something like this before. A hoodie of some kind. You remember it brought you comfort. You remember… it wasn’t yours.

A frustrated sigh echoes the room as you drag your hands down your face. Once again, you couldn’t locate the boy your brain so itched to find.

Brenner was helping you with your memories. Every day, you would do some mind exercises, incredibly mundane but so so important to you. At the end of each session, you’d take your medication and try to continue what he was teaching. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bunker forever, but how were you meant to leave when you couldn’t even find the door?

Besides, Brenner treated you with kindness. There were worse places to be in an apocalypse.

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself. Today would be the day. You were going to remember.

The door creaked a familiar welcome when you leave the room, staring down the hall. You wonder if you have enough time to go exploring again.

A consequential part of the bunker you couldn’t wrap your head around was the lack of time. There wasn’t a single clock on the walls you so often wander around. Brenner always seemed to know exactly when everything should happen, however. Your tests, sleeping schedules, appropriate times to eat. And yet, you’ve never managed to catch him with a watch on his wrist.

You find the central part of the building, staring up at it with awe, as you did every single time. Here, there were separate floors for separate doors, all circling you as you stand in the middle. This section of the bunker made it seem much bigger than you had assumed it to be. In fact, the label bunker didn’t seem to match the grand scale of it. Although, you weren’t sure what else to call it now. A base, perhaps.

None of the doors here opened, windows blacked out with paint. Whether they were like that before or after Brenner moved in, somebody didn’t want you seeing inside those rooms. You were curious about them, as anyone else would be, but they weren’t a priority for you; finding the missing pieces of your memories were.

You’ve had several flashes of your forgotten past flash into your mind at random points over the past few days, but none gave you enough information to decipher what you were seeing. Just yesterday you had been staring down the same hallway you were now stood facing, imagining the lights flickering wildly with a panicked thrum of your heart beating against your chest.

You wondered when you would give up trying. It was silly, really, to constantly be wondering that when Brenner always told you positive thinking would better the results. You couldn’t help it. You supposed part of you must have always been expecting the worst outcome. You didn’t even remember who you really were. Did you really want to remember?

...Were you worth remembering?

Do the people who you left behind want you to remember-

“Why do you do that? Act like you aren’t someone important, when you most definitely are.”

You blink, footsteps frozen. It had just been a whisper in your mind, a calming voice. You’d been hearing it a lot lately, mostly in your dreams, sometimes when you’re overthinking like this. He was still faceless, whoever it was ushering sweet words of emotional relief. If you could just see him, the boy in your dreams, you’re sure you’d finally find that missing piece.

“We should rethink this.”

You stop again, head turning to the hallway with a confused expression. That voice most certainly wasn’t in your head. And it didn’t belong to anyone you knew, either.

“Calm down, this is what we’ve wanted since we started this whole thing.”

Brenner’s voice drifted down the hall this time. Without another thought, your feet are guiding you to the murmurs of conversation, curiosity proving it had you rather than reversed.

The speech between two men was louder when you reach the door at the end of the hall, concealing yourself around the corner and peering into the room.

From the gap in the door, you could make out a face you hadn’t see before. He seemed to be similar in age to Brenner, sporting a long white lab coat. His right hand was fiddling with the pen between his fingers, a nervous trait if you ever saw one. He was a little shorter than the man stood in front of him, his face twisted into some sort of conflicted emotion. From the discussion you were overhearing, it was clear he was in the opposition.

“Can it not wait longer?” He persisted, taking a step forward. “We can find another way. I just need time-”

“We’re out of time.” Brenner interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, my friend. Think of all the things we can…”

His voice trails off, retracting his hand and straightening his back. You can’t see his expression from where you’re stood, but the man he was with seemed confused by it.

“Y/n.” Brenner suddenly turns around with a smile. Your stomach drops in shame. You obviously weren’t as inconspicuous as you hoped. “Please, come in.”

You take a few tentative steps into the room, observing the machines with various enticing buttons. There was a giant window at the back, replacing the wall. Except, you couldn’t see out of it. A giant shutter was rolled down, stopped just before completely covering the space and leaving a slither of light at the bottom. You frown at the sight. A giant window. In a control room…

“Okay.” A girl breathes out, slotting the key into a metal door. “We lock the door anytime we leave, just in case. We take shifts so some of us end up sleeping between. Don’t wanna be blind-sided.”

“It’s a good idea.” You say and she smiles.

“This way.” She announces as she swings open the door.

It was like stepping into a sci-fi movie. Lab equipment everywhere, some now lifeless machines, a large glass window overlooking rows of metal staircases, cages.

And a giant gate to hell staring back at you.

“This is Dr. Owens.” Brenner interjects the swirling memories, stepping forward. You peel your eyes away from the shutters and finally acknowledge the men standing in front of you. “I have brought him here to help with your memories. He’s very skilled in this area.”

Owens was happily nodding, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You think you’re pretty good at reading people, consequence of the years you would sit and observe on the outside of many conversations. This man looked… sad, in some way.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope my sudden appearance isn’t alarming in any way.” He offers a hand and you shake it, feeling the slight tremor in his grip. Something felt wrong.

“Well, shall we begin today’s session?” Brenner claps his hands and Owens retrieves his, nodding and walking out of the room.

You watched as he turned right towards the centre of the base rather than left to the room you’ve been conducting these sessions for weeks.

Brenner notices your confusion and places a hand on your shoulder. “We’re moving to a different room this time. Nothing to be worried about, I assure you. We just need some better equipment for this.”

He barely gives you time to think, the hand on your back guiding you out the door before you can even remember the window at the back of the room, holding a secret the universe didn’t want you to find.

“Before we begin today’s session, I’ve been meaning to take blood samples from you.” Brenner announces as you sit in an uncomfortable chair, the metal entirely different from the plush sofa you usually rest on.

“Blood samples?” You question, and Brenner smiles that same smile he’s shown you since your coma. When you think a little harder about his kindness now, did his show of comfort feel… forced?

“Are you sure she’s ready for that now?” Owens surprises you with his interjection, stepping into view beside you. “Maybe you should give her a little more time with the medication, I’d hate to-”

“Why don’t we ask her how she feels about it?” Brenner suggests, leaning forward to meet your eyes. “We don’t have to do this today. It’s simply to help us monitor if there’s perhaps something a little more medical than amnesia happening.”

More medical than amnesia? You think to yourself, glancing over at the tray of needles. This contrasted the last sessions dramatically. Every nerve in you screamed ‘no’, to refuse their help. But that crippling fear seemed to outweigh it; what if you never remembered?

Maybe this was one of those risks you have to take for the better.

“It’s okay.” You nod, turning to the man beside you. “I’m willing to do whatever.”

You assure the new doctor you’re alright, but his eyes were racked with an emotion you’ve witnessed and felt numerous times. Guilt.

It sends a shock of a memory: holding someone’s hand, tears running down your face, a hospital bed you didn’t occupy. Your sister. Sara. How your heart ached with her absence. How guilty you felt when you assumed your father would replace her. The girl was so sweet, she didn’t deserve your hostility. The girl. Who was she?

Who was she?

A number.

9?

10?

1-

“We must start.” Brenner interrupts, and the memory is fading.

“Wait!” You stand from your seat and Owens pauses with the needle in his hand, waiting. Brenner wasn’t so patient.

“Did you change your mind?” He questions, tilting his head. He had barely moved from his seat, even in recognition to your outburst.

“No, no, I-” You glance between them, scrunching your face. “I remembered something. My sister. I have a sister.”

Brenner seems to be personally interested this time, not a usual trait he displayed. He shifts to sit a little straighter, attempting to fashion it out by placing down his clipboard and nodding.

“What about her do you remember? Anything important?”

“I…” And your voice trails away with the image of a young girl, disappearing. Your next words came out a little defeated, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know.”

“Hm.” Brenner leans back, crossing his legs. “Let’s continue, then.”

You practically deflate back into the chair, staring down at the ground with an unwavering sense of helplessness.

“No.”

Both of your heads whip to where Owens was placing the needle back on the table and shaking his head.

“She’s not ready. We’ll do it tomorrow, let her prepare herself.” He aims his declaration to the man sat in front of you, eyes holding more warning than you had expected.

“But it’s just a blood test.” You say, leaning forward. Neither of them reply. “Right?”

“Perhaps Dr Owens is right.” Brenner eventually says, standing from his chair and peeling his eyes from his colleague. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a familiar phial, the rattling noise echoing in the uncomfortable silence. “We’ll continue this later. Just take your medication for now. Dr Owens and I will confer on what’s next.”

You realise your voice wasn’t to be heard here and allow him to shake out two pills, clutching them in your hand. You held them tightly even as you left the room, weaving back through the hallways to the comforting hue of a furnished room.

Your feet took you to the water bottle on the desk by the door, instinctively raising the pills to your mouth, just like you did after every session. But this time, something makes you pause.

My sister.

You try to focus on the image of your sister, almost forcing yourself to place her features piece by piece. She was the same age Sara would have been. Oh god… Sara. How could you have let yourself forget about her? How did you let yourself forget about anything?

Hopper will be so disappointed when you find him. He taught you better. Whatever caused this amnesia was probably the result of your own stupidity. If he was in your position, he would have left this place already, regardless of memory or not. You knew he would.

So why were you still here?

Maybe you were just afraid there was no one waiting for you on the surface, dead or alive.

The little white pills were long forgotten, discarded on the desk as you trudge your way over to the couch, sinking into it like your forlorn attitude. Your eyes close with the last slip of a tear. Of all the things to forget, why couldn’t it be how awful you felt?

You didn’t realise you had drifted to sleep until the sound of the door shutting echoed through the room. You turn your head to find Owens is stood there, running a hand down his face and clutching a notebook.

“Hello?” You prompt, sitting up.

He turns to you in surprise, your unexpected presence sending a mix of emotions onto his face.

“My apologies.” He says, walking back over to the door. “I didn’t realise you were sleeping.”

“No, it’s okay.” You say, smiling. “I’m not meant to be sleeping in here anyway.”

Rather than respond, he stands awkwardly in front of the door, eyes shifting between his notebook and feet as he decides between staying and leaving. Even though you didn’t know this man, you could tell something was weighing on him, as it was you also.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His eyes dart up in surprise but he nods, clearing his throat “Of course.”

“Why are you here?”

The question lingers, his hardened expression softening into contemplation. It was almost as if he wasn’t certain of his presence here either.

“May I sit?” He asks after a little while and you smile timidly, shuffling further down the couch to make room. When he finally sinks into the cushions, he adapts a more comfortable posture, tilting his head in your direction. “I’m here because Dr Brenner asked me to be.”

“I assume you’re friends?” You ask, fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie. A nervous habit.

“We’ve known eachother a long time.” He responds, eyes never fully meeting yours. It seemed he was dodging the truthful answer, whatever that may be. “We worked in a lab together a while ago, trying to make a difference. But before we could really do anything, I… I left.”

“Why?”

“My wife.” Owens smiles this time, a fond memory playfully tugging at his lips. He twists the silver ring on his left hand, “She was the most supportive person I knew. She was the reason I really started all of this. High school sweethearts, if you can believe it. We were going to change the world. But she got sick. Cancer. She fought for such a long time… after that, I didn’t have the energy to continue my work.”

“I get it.” You say after some contemplation. He frowns, eyeing you with curiosity. “My sister…”

His eyebrows raise, a stillness to his exterior. You pretended not to notice, pulling back at the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Grief is a very powerful thing.” He says, sighing. “Especially when you believe you have the power to save them. I just… I never had the resources.”

You nod along to his words, an unexpected similarity between you and this man you’ve never met. Just remembering Sara’s face was all your heart needed to start aching. No one really understood that before. Other than Hopper. You never gave him a chance to connect with you over her death. You suppose he didn’t, either.

After a moment, a groan leaves Owens’ mouth and he runs his hands down his face, looking up at the ceiling.

“I wanted to help people.” He admits quietly. “God, it was all I ever wanted. I was ready to find new ways to better the lives of everyone around us, to find cures, to- to discover endless possibilities of the human mind…”

“Did you?”

“In a way.” He sighs, looking at you. “Just not the way I wanted.”

You watch his smile fade into sadness, his eyes drifting to the ground.

“Are you okay?” You ask, shifting to face him on the couch.

“I am.” He states, closing his eyes. “But you aren’t.”

You frown, tilting your head. “What?”

“Brenner isn’t who you think he is.” Owens says solemnly, scared eyes burning fear into yours. “He isn’t trying to help you.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t take the pills, did you?” He glances over at the little white capsules collecting metaphorical dust on the desk. “And now you’re already starting to remember your life.”

Your eyes widen at his implication, turning your head in horror at the ‘medication’ meant to be fixing you.

“Antipsychotics.” Owens answers before you can even ask, tightening his lips. “They’re designed to lessen the effects of extreme psychosis but only in smaller doses. The pills Brenner has administered to you are… they are more than anyone should take, especially those with amnesia. They aren’t curing you, Y/n. They’re making your memory worse.”

“Why would he do that?” You shake your head, unsure who to trust. But this man in front of you had more emotions than Brenner has displayed to you in the past two weeks.

Trust no-one, your dad would say, only trust yourself.

But how could you do that when you quite literally couldn’t remember who you are?

Owens tries to answer when he suddenly looks up at the door, panicked.

“Hide.” He says, gently tugging your arm and ushering you off the sofa and towards the closet.

“Here?” You question, but you make no effort to stop him guiding you over to it.

“Behind here is a vent system. I cut out a panel of the closet so you should be able to access it. It’ll lead you to the other side of the lab- bunker. You need to get through it quickly and pretend like none of this happened. It’s not an escape, but it’ll make it look like you were never in this room, you hear me?”

“What? Why?” You stumble into the wooden structure, turning to catch his arm before he could close the door. There were so many questions you needed to ask, but there would never be enough time to have them answered. “What’s going to happen?”

“Look, kid.” He says almost sadly, a small smile on his lips. “He isn’t who you think he is. I need you to act like everything is okay. Don’t take the pills, radio your friends- I’ve heard them on one of the frequencies before. But, most importantly, don’t let him catch you.”

“Don’t let him catch me.” You repeat, but it wasn’t a question. Don’t let him catch me. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Protect yourself, protect your friends. You’ll need eachother if you ever want to stop it.”

“Stop what?”

A rushed echo of footsteps can be heard from the other side of the door, pulling away Owens’ attention. Your heart sank. It was too late.

“Room 237. He needs you.” He whispers, grabbing the closet door before you can object. “Now, go. Don’t look back.”

Owens carefully shuts it and plunges you into darkness, only a slither of light peeking between the cupboard doors. You turn around to see exactly what he had described, crouching to carefully remove the cover. It barely made a sound and you sigh in relief just as a louder noise filled the room.

Brenner swung the door open and closed in one swift motion, stepping onto the carpet where he found Owens sat at the couch, skimming through a notebook.

You place a hand inside the vent, testing its structure. Rock solid.

“Did you tell her?” Brenner questions and despite every instruction you were given, you paused.

“Tell her what?” Owens responds with a casual tone. But even you could hear the slight incline in his voice behind the wooden doors, a tell-tale sign he was hiding something.

“Where is she?”

“She hasn’t been here. I’ve been sat here for a while waiting.” He shrugs. “She’s probably wandering about again.”

“Hm.”

Silence. You wince. You couldn’t make an escape if you didn’t have the tone of their voices to distract it.

“I heard the transmissions.” Brenner states lowly. “I know what you’ve done, Sam.”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Don’t lie to me!” He suddenly roars, making you flinch. You haven’t ever seen him like this. You weren’t even aware he was capable of it.

“Fine!” Owens yells back, standing from the couch and throwing his notebook onto the cushions. “Fine. I sent out a call for help. She doesn’t deserve to be locked up in here, Martin. None of us do. You’re going too far.”

“Too far? This could be our only saviour.”

“No. It’ll be your saviour.” Owens raises his chin.“You’re the only one that needs this. Let the girl go. I won’t ever speak of this again. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Brenner sighs. He stares at his friend for a moment, something dark lurking behind his eyes.

“You’ve been a good friend to me all these years.” He smiles. It was unsettling this time. Almost like it didn’t belong to him. “I do hope you understand.”

Owens frowns, lips parting to inquire his cryptic words. The question never hit the air.

Brenner pulls out a gun from behind his back and shoots Owens directly in the chest.

Your hands fly to your mouth in a quick motion, suppressing an urge to scream out. You watch Brenner through that tiny little gap, tears pooling in your eyes as the man looks down at his former friend with nothing but disgust.

“We could have changed the world, Sam.” He says as his final farewell.

A twitch of Owens’ hand on the carpet catches your attention. You can just hear the choked gasp of breath leave his mouth in response.

It doesn’t return.

Brenner swiftly pockets his gun again and fishes out a key in his shirt. Without a second glance, he leaves the room, the click of a lock echoing back through.

All you could hear was your thundering heart beat against your eardrums, arms tight around your legs. Brenner just killed him. He killed him. And if he knew what you had just witnessed, he would surely kill you too.

You take another look at Owens’ body, shuddering at the thought of dying the same fate. You shouldn’t leave him like that. What if he was still alive?

Don’t look back, he had said with the last remaining urgency in his soul. He told you to leave. So that’s what you had to do, even if every cell in your body was screeching for you to sit here in a puddle of your tears and wait until someone came to save you. You knew even if you gave in to your fear, no one would come.

So, instead, plant your shaking hands on the cool metal of the vent and climb your way through, choking back the sobs scratching at your throat.

Chapter Twenty-Two: coming soon...

taglist:

@sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .

@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .

@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady . @pansexualhoor .

@kitdjarin1 . @chiliwhore . @carolineesnell .

[lizaaardstuff]

Hellebores (shattered)

Hey guys, I’ve decided to try something a little new. This is a fic I’ve been working on for the last month now, and I wanted to share a small snippet of the beginning with you guys since it’ll be a bit longer before I’m able to post it on ao3.

This is a Donnie centric story that will take place after the invasion (like my other fanfic), but the beginning kicks off during the end battle.

⚠️Trigger warning for this fic will include: Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Paralysis, Internalized Ablism, PTSD, Medical Stuff; you know, the works.

Please let me know your thoughts once you’ve read this, I’d love to hear them <3

Word count: 1,845

———

Being apart of the Technodrome was... incredible. Being so wholly welcomed into such vast knowledge and power was thrilling- world changing. He was everything. He was everywhere. Nothing was out of his reach. He could feel the space in his head expand, his senses heightened to new levels, and as long as he ignored the pain in his shell and the prickling in his limbs and the pressure in his head, he would describe this as the best experience of his life. Truly, nothing could ever compare.

And then he was ripped out.

Violently.

Without any care to what it would do to him.

And suddenly the greatest experience of his life had turned into a living nightmare. He had never felt pain like this before, and not a second too soon, he blacks out.

———

"...nie!"

"Donnie, wake up!"

Donnie's eyes blearily crack open, dizzying colors invade his senses, and he fights the urge to close them again. He can hear himself wheezing, struggling to take in a full breath. He feels his head dipping down towards his chest, and he realizes he's being held up. Blinking to try to clear the haze from his vision, he looks around to his brothers, who are all being held up by the same gooey Krang matter. Donnie almost does a double take when he sees Raph, with the Krang's influence gone, but he doesn't even get a second to revel in this new development, because Leo and Mikey are suddenly yelling for him again.

"Donnie, c'mon, you have to fight it!" Leo shouts from across the room. A flash of blue lights up the room, and Donnie can feel the electricity of his brothers ninpō light up in his chest. And now that he's focusing on it, he can feel Raph's ninpō there too, strong and steady. Feeling that spark ignites something within his own kindling, and when Mikey's ninpō joins the mix, that's all the push Donnie needs before a beam of striking purple joins the cacophony.

There's yelling, but Donnie's ears are ringing, and everything sounds like it's happening behind a wall of cotton. He sees everyone's ninpō burning away the Krang matter that was holding them up, and he assumes the same was happening to him, but he could barely feel it.

Donnie drags in a breath, feeling like he was breathing through a straw, and uses all of his strength to lift up his right arm to pull at the Krang gunk that was pulling at his neck. If I could just get a moment to catch my breath...

And then the Krang matter is gone, and he's falling.

Donnie lands hard on his side, pain flaring through the upper part of his spine and echoing out across his chest, and the impact forces a weak cough out of him that takes away the little bit of air he had managed to gain in his lungs.

"Donnie!" he hears from above, but his eyes are slipping shut again, his energy spent.

There's a soft thud next to him, and a gentle hand on the side of his face. "Donnie, open your eyes man, please. C'mon, just open your eyes."

Leo.

Donnie slowly peels open his eyes again, despite how badly he wanted to just let them remain closed. Because Leo asked nicely.

Donnie drags in another breath.

Why is it still so hard to breathe?

"There you are," Leo sighs, a confusing mix of worry and relief painted on his face.

Donnie hears quick footsteps behind him and a soft gasp, "his shell," "oh Donnie," but when he tries to turn his head to see who's talking, Leo's hand that was still on his face presses down lightly to keep his head in place. "Don't move."

Donnie's head is starting to feel light from the lack of oxygen.

"Oh my god, Leo, what do we do." Mikey. That's Mikey. Donnie's fingers twitch against the ground as he tries once again to turn his head to see his baby brother, but Leo's hand remains firm.

"We have to move." Raph. His big brother is here too. Wait...

Donnie's already unsteady breathing halts, his eyes going wide. "Wait," he croaks out, all eyes turning back on him, "if you're all here... the Krang." Donnie's words slur, and his sentence ends in another wheezing breath.

The others share a confused look above him. Leo looks back down to meet Donnie's eyes, gently taking his hand with the one that wasn't securing the softshell's head. But Donnie could barely feel it. Everything felt so disconnected and muffled. Shock, maybe.

"Donnie," Leo says sharply, like he'd been calling his name a few times. Donnie drags his eyes back up to Leo, blinking through another round of haze. "Donnie, you're holding them off. Or, at least I'm assuming it's you. There's a big purple dome around us, and you're glowing, so..."

Huh?

"Leo," Raph says urgently from wherever he is. Donnie still can't see him or Mikey. If only I could just sit up... "We still need to get the Krang through that portal." There's hesitation in his voice, and Donnie wishes he could see his face.

"I know!" Leo snaps, voice trembling and eyes brimming with overwhelmed tears. It felt so unlike him. He'd only seen Leo make that face a few times in their lifetime, and most of what he could count were from the last 24 hours. Donnie focuses solely on flexing his fingers around Leo's hand, and Leo squeezes back automatically, looking back down at him but still talking to Raph. "I know, but- we can't move him like this."

"Leo, we can't stay here," Donnie hears Mikey say from somewhere above him.

Donnie watches as a tear rolls down Leo's cheek, catching the purple lighting of Donnie's ninpō. Then Leo squares his shoulders and his face hardens, eyes glancing up to meet the others above him, and Donnie knows that he's come to a decision.

"Raph, in a few minutes I'm going to need you to pick up Dee. As carefully as you possibly can. I'll portal you down to a safe spot. Donnie actually managed to get the ship pretty close to the portal before the Krang grabbed him and Mikey, so all Mikey and I have to do is push the big guy through. I need you to watch Dee, if you can find anything hard and flat to lay him on once you're down there, that would be best. Make sure he doesn't move." Good, Donnie thinks as he listens to his twin slip back into his leader voice, Leo's got this covered. Donnie can feel his eyes slipping shut again right as Leo's eyes shift back over to him. "Dee, look at me, I need you to focus."

Donnie would have rolled his eyes at the slider if he wasn't feeling so sluggish. Instead, he tries to hum to let him know he's listening, but it turned more into a weak groan.

"Before I have Raph pick you up, I'm going to do a quick check to see how you're doing. I need you to keep the shield up, okay? Can you do that for me? No, don't move your head, I got it," Leo adds quickly, pulling their hands apart to stop Donnie from nodding with both of his hands.

"Okay," Leo says, more to himself, as he finally lets go of Donnie's head, throwing a sharp glare in his direction with one more, "don't move," as he picks up Donnie's wrist to take his pulse.

He frowns, clearly not pleased with what he's feeling, but he moves on anyways, carefully shifting his head to lean against Donnie's chest. It was difficult since Donnie was on his side, and Leo seemed to take extra care in making sure not to jostle him. Leo's frown only deepens. This check up clearly wasn't going well. Damn, there goes my perfect test scores...

Then Leo goes to check his eyes, but without a pen light to use and the lighting around them being so dim, he gives up on that, moving to hold Donnie's hands instead.

"Squeeze my hands," Leo instructs.

Donnie has to dig through his energy reserve moving his fingers, and he notices that his right hand reacts before his left. Huh. But either way, he manages to give Leo's hands a weak, lopsided squeeze, which seemed to be good enough for now because Leo nods approvingly.

"Okay, now wiggle your toes for me." The slider sits up a bit straighter to look at the softshell's feet. Or, where Donnie assumes they must be, because he can't feel anything below his chest. Donnie's never been in shock before, and after this experience, he never wants to again. Though, that's a bit redundant. No one ever wants to go into shock, that would be masochistic. But Donnie definitely would rate this experience a zero out of ten, would not recommend-

"Donnie, focus," Leo says, placing a hand on Donnie's arm, bringing Donnie back to the present. "I need you to wiggle your toes." Was Donnie becoming delusional, or was there a hint of desperation in his brother's tone? Probably both.

So Donnie wiggles his toes like Leo has asked of him, if only to ease his brother's concern.

"Donnie, seriously, man. Move your toes so we can finish this up. I know you're feeling kinda out of it right now but-"

What? "I already did," Donnie mumbles out, immediately wishing he hadn't spoken when such a simple task leaves him breathless and dizzy.

"What? No, dude, you didn't. Try again." Leo's tone sharpens, eyes going wide, despite his casual wording.

Donnie furrows his smudged brows. "What're you talkin about?" Donnie tries to get an arm under him to push himself up, turning his head towards his legs, confused, but the second he tries to move, Leo's on top of him again.

"Stop! Stop moving," Leo shouts hurriedly. Donnie can feel the sharp sting of Leo's panic through their interlinked ninpō, and suddenly there's a shift in the air. Ignoring Leo's frantic pleads and shaking hands, Donnie tilts his head up slowly, painfully, and sees the large purple dome he had accidentally created to surround them shudder. A loud pounding followed by muffled rage filled roars could be heard just outside of the shield, as the Krang leader slams his fists into the structure, clearly becoming impatient.

When the Krang brings his fists down again, the structure glitches.

Donnie gasps, along with his brothers, and by pure instinct he pushes more energy into the shield. The world starts spinning and the corners of his vision go dim as he uses up the last of his reserves, and when Donnie blinks his eyes back open, his head is laying on the ground again. Leo's shouting something to someone, and there's a flash of bright, neon blue, and there's a large arm shifting under him. The last thing he sees is a burst of purple pixels as the dome shatters before his eyes slip shut.

———

Okay so I really have no idea how to format anything on this app, so if it’s hard to read, I’m so sorry 😭