#like... me impulsively buzzing my own head by feel

[halinski]

.

[suzukiblu]

Tim?

Tim did not actually mean to kidnap an alternate reality's version of Kon.

In his defense, he'd had very limited time in that reality and everything in it had been going to shit and . . . well, everything in it had been going to shit.

Also, Lex Luthor had been a lot more heavily involved in that particular reality's Cadmus, and fuck it if Tim was ever going to leave any version of Kon with that bastard.

With any bastard who could ever look at Kon and call him "it".

"Ow," Tim grunts into the dirty pavement of what he hopes is his own Gotham as blood drips out of his mouth, and feels Kon's fingertips brush very, very tentatively against his back. He's a little too dizzy to lift his head, but he figures it doesn't matter. Like it's just . . . it's fine. They're not in Cadmus and Kon is safe and Tim is . . . conscious, at least, which means he can work with the situation.

Whatever the situation actually is, anyway.

Kon's hands flatten against his back, which is a very familiar tell, and Tim immediately feels the even more familiar embrace of TTK wrapping him up.

Less familiar is the impulse to find said embrace adorable, but in Tim's defense, this Kon is physiologically about ten years old and so far every single thing he's done has been either adorable or heartbreaking or some terrible combination of the two.

"Robin?" Kon asks anxiously. "You're okay, right?"

"M'okay," Tim mumbles blurrily, because it's more or less true. More blood drips out of his mouth and splatters on the pavement. "All okay. S'fine. You hurt?"

"No," Kon says, still sounding nervous. "Dunno where we are, though."

"Should be Gotham," Tim says, forcing himself to lift his head enough to check and nearly laughing as he recognizes their surroundings as the exact part of Crime Alley that he got interdimensionally yanked out of seventy-six hours ago. "Yeah. Gotham."

He pushes himself up enough to look over at Kon. Kon looks very small crouched down next to him with buzzed-down hair, barefoot in pristine white lab scrubs with a shiny metal cuff stamped with an identification number locked around his wrist. "13" features prominently on it.

Tim wants to melt it into slag.

"Is it your Gotham?" Kon asks.

"No clue, but I'm hoping," Tim says. He thinks about getting to his feet but he's pretty sure he'd throw up if he tried. Or fall over. Or both?

Probably both, at this point.

Oh well, he figures, and pushes himself up. He doesn't vomit, surprisingly, although he is very definitely sure that Kon's TTK is the only thing keeping him from falling over.

No reason to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, Tim decides.

"I need coffee," he says as he gives Kon's shoulder an appreciative pat, because the caffeine withdrawal is real. Also he needs medical attention, probably, but also-also he needs to come up with either a cover story for the ER or an explanation for Bruce and therefore caffeine can't hurt.

"Uh, okay," Kon says skeptically. "I don't think Starbucks or anything is gonna be open right now, though, it's pretty late."

"God, what did Cadmus teach you, kid," Tim says despairingly, making a face at the thought. "Starbucks is a punishment from God. We're going to the nearest twenty-four diner and I'm ordering roofing tar. And we're getting you a hot chocolate. Do you want a hot chocolate?"

". . . yeah," Kon says, biting his lip. "Um. I mean, I dunno if I'd like it, though."

"If you don't like it, we'll get you something else," Tim says. "But I haven't slept or eaten properly since I left my reality and I need coffee before it becomes a legitimate medical emergency."

"Shouldn't you get, like, real food, then?" Kon asks skeptically. "Not just coffee?"

"Coffee is food," Tim lies reflexively.

". . . I don't think it is," Kon says, squinting up at him suspiciously. "Are you taking advantage of me being too stupid to know if coffee's food or not?"

". . . we can get something to go," Tim says, wishing he'd blown up a bit more of Cadmus on his way out of that fucking cesspool of a reality. "You're not stupid. Luthor can choke on a fucking cactus for all the shit he kept saying to you."

"I mean, I didn't come out right," Kon says uncomfortably. "I'm not as smart as Dadd–as Lex is. Or as Superman was."

Tim pretends that Kon wasn't about to say "Daddy" for both their sakes. Just . . . yeah. At least for the moment, anyway.

Luthor was a lot more heavily involved in that Cadmus.

And horrifyingly.

Tim tries not to think about the way that Luthor had kept touching Kon. All the little too-deliberate points of contact he'd made time and again and too often.

Much too often.

Tim hadn't seen anyone else even so much as enter Kon's personal space the entire time he'd been in that godforsaken lab, and every single time that Luthor had made a gesture like he might touch him, Kon had tensed in something that couldn't decide between being fear or anticipation.

It'd made Tim want to burn the whole fucking lab and every single LexCorp-owned building he could find to the ground.

He'd settled for interdimensionally kidnapping Kon and destroying all of Cadmus's systems and DNA samples as thoroughly as possible. C-4 had been involved.

A lot of C-4 had been involved.

Possibly that had been a slight overreaction, but fuck if Tim cares. Just–Clark had still been dead, and Cassie hadn't had powers and Bart hadn't been in the time period and Tim himself hadn't even existed, for whatever reason, and apparently neither had Cissie or Greta or Anita or Slobo, and Bruce had already had his hands full with Damian and Dick had been off-planet and Jason had also still been dead and just–

Options had been limited, alright?

Options had been limited, and by that point Tim hadn't had time to go check and see what the Kents were up to or track down Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen or even just tip off the Justice League or the Titans, because by that point he'd been in an examination room with a Lex Luthor who was stroking a frightened Kon's face with one hand while holding a syringe that was glowing kryptonite-green with the other and Tim had just . . . he'd just made some choices at that point, okay?

He'd made some very decisive choices.

And some very decisive commitments.

Or at least one very decisive commitment, anyway.

[zhukzucraft]

Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick. 

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble. 

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs. 

Etho was not. 

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above. 

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand. 

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought. 

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel. 

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly. 

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. 

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him. 

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous. 

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em. 

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine. 

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too. 

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around. 

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet. 

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried. 

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice. 

“Hello!?” 

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole. 

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor. 

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up. 

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people. 

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully. 

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied. 

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped. 

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed,  “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced. 

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water. 

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him. 

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting  his hand to wave at him. 

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile. 

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish  for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that. 

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed. 

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone. 

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it. 

And then he ate it completely. 

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand. 

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening 

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh. 

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped. 

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!” 

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees. 

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side. 

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down. 

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed. 

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him. 

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed. 

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction. 

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face,  “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled. 

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh. 

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through.. 

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.” 

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky. 

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him. 

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water,  landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface. 

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded. 

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly. 

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured. 

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered. 

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle. 

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two. 

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV  > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them. 

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway. 

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground. 

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned. 

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him. 

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things.  He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for. 

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help. 

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar. 

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked. 

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped. 

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned. 

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back. 

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned. 

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off. 

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.  

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. 

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to  join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them. 

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief. 

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

[wakeup01]

Hey, is it still open ? If it is, I've got something to ask. See, the university that I attend is apparently quite focused on sports, when compared to degrees such as mine in linguistics. It means that, on my way to class, I see a lot of hot men with great hairstyles, and I've always felt a bit jealous at that. Don't get me wrong, I love the eyecandy, but it always made me wonder what would happen if, one day, I entered the wrong building. Could you help me to see what would happen ? Just as an experiment, of course, I want to go back to my degree nice and easy after that...

Team Player

Linguistics? Oh dear, oh dear. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you won’t be getting anywhere with that. But don’t worry, I’m feeling generous today. Okay, listen up. It’s very simple, all you have to do is follow that hot jock with the gelled blond hair to the left. No, no, not the right, the left. Take note of his smile. The way he laughs at literally nothing. Why? Oh, no reason…

Whoops. The locker room you say? What a blunder. Egg on my face, I tell ya. But while you’re there, maybe it’s worth taking in the sights and….smells. Every step is like walking through the humid air of the jungle, a breeze of sweaty jockstraps assaults you from every direction as the Football team get changed. You fail to avert your eyes from their hot glistening bodies, the display of pure strength and testosterone.

The jock you followed in notices you, notices certain inadequacies that need amending if you’re gonna be on the team. The team? Yes, the team. That messy hair for one. You barely get the opportunity to argue as he sits you down and scrapes the clippers across your skull. The buzzing sound makes you shiver. An overwhelming lightheaded feeling allows him to easily tilt your head down and mow the back. Running his hands through what little remains as he gells it up into a spiky jock style. Patting your strapped rear and padded thighs as the dirty, preused tight leggings pull up your legs and cover your cupped crotch. Your mouth opens, opens before your brain has engaged, just hanging ajar for several seconds. “B—bro.” The word is more of a proclamation than anything else. You impulsively adjust your junk, a clear shadow visibly outlines where your big balls push the cup outward.

He tells you that the newbies are liable if the team loses. That would be you. Taking one…or many, so to speak, for the team is the accepted punishment. He tells you this while stroking at his own cupped groin, a rather large bulge growing as you swallow hard.

Before you know it, you’re completely kitted out in the heavy uniform, a thick helmet lowering over your head - silencing those niggling doubts in the back of your increasingly tiny, sports obsessed mind. It’s like a deprivation chamber for your head, your inner monologue being blocked. The only thing that matters to you now is the game.

The game.

The ball.

The team.

The… punishment.

The twitching of your cock and ass makes you wonder if losing would be all that bad. You stand up and admire yourself. You barely recognise what you see, uncontrollably getting turned on by your own appearance. Were your arms always that chunky, that tanned? Like prime cooked beef hanging from your wide shoulders. Looking like a proper jock boy…smelling like one too. Huhuh. You turn, smiling dimly back at your bro. Laughing out loud for a reason you don’t remember. Uhh, I’m sure it’ll come to you…eventually.

I mean, you’re just trying out something new, right? No harm done, you rationalise as you sprint and achieve your first touchdown, your memory of…le..lin….lingizztics? Completely knocked loose from your ‘bro’d out, empty head.

Of course, the team loses anyway. Though you, and the rest of the team have suspicions about how accidental your ‘fumbles’ really were. Never-mind, that didn’t matter so much anymore, not while the whole team form an orderly queue behind your bent over rear. Your blonde bro is first up, he spreads your sweaty cheeks wide, spits on your crack and lines himself up for the ‘shot’. “You ready to learn how to handle some balls dude?”

“Hell yeah brah!”

[slashmagpie]

“Pearl? Why are you in my house?” 

Pearl blinks up at Bdubs from where she’s sandwiched between the wall and the waterstream, curled up on herself in the narrow space. “Somebody destroyed all the lights in my base and now it’s full of mobs,” she says bitterly.

“It wasn’t me!” Bdubs cries, raising his hands.

“Well, I didn’t think it was you, but the way you just said that’s making me think—”

“No! I’d never! I swear!”

“...I believe you,” she says after a moment, and Bdubs feels himself relax. “Can I stay with you tonight? I don’t really feel like…” She gestures in the direction of her house.

Bdubs nods. “Oh, sure, for sure,” he says. Then, “Should we invite Joel over? His house got blown up too.”

“Ah, yeah, probably. Good idea, Bdubs.” She fumbles in her pocket for her communicator, eventually fishing it out. The screen is cracked. Her fingers shake as they tap against the glass. 

“Are you okay there, Pearl? You look a little…” Bdubs forces his hands to tremble. 

She glances up at him, face scrunching in confusion, before she lets out a small laugh. “Just the adrenaline, y’know.” She grins. “I’m red. It’s great.” 

“If it was anyone else, I’d think they were being sarcastic. But with you! With you, I’m pretty sure you’re being serious!”

She giggles, hitting send on the message and shoving her communicator away. Bdubs doesn’t feel his own buzz; it must have been a whisper. “You know,” she says after a moment, “I’m a little surprised.”

Bdubs blinks. “Surprised about what?”

“That there’s still three of us.” 

He laughs. “Yeah, I’m a little surprised, too! I thought for sure Joel would die today. For sure.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Oh, no, never. But between you and me… that guy’s kind of a loose canon!” 

She snorts. “Throwing stones from glass houses, there, Bdubs?”

“Surely I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mhm.” She pauses, eyes glancing down to where her fingers pick at a stray thread on her hoodie sleeve. “That’s kinda what I mean, though. Joel doesn’t live here, and you’re making friends with half the server, I’m surprised I’m not spending tonight alone.”

“Pearl…”

“What?” She snorts. “I know how these games go, Bdubs. People don’t stay loyal. Not for long, anyway.” She glances up at him, eyes half obscured by her hair. “People like Joel, people like you? I know how this ends.”

And Bdubs—

Well, he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what she means. Can’t pretend he doesn’t remember Impulse yelling as Bdubs’ arrow had found home in his throat. Can’t pretend he doesn’t remember Etho backing away when Bdubs had tried to get just a little too close. Can’t pretend he didn’t fight when he promised he’d run. Can’t pretend he hadn’t taken advantage of his broken home. 

…He can’t pretend he doesn’t remember telling Martyn about their plans, or planning to do harm to Etho. Can’t pretend he doesn’t cross his fingers behind his back every time he makes a promise, just in case.

But at the same time, he remembers—searching for Cleo in a castle she’d been too dead to return to, pushing Lizzie to her death for a life he’d never received, taking two hands in his own and vowing to face the end as four instead of two, for once, for once in his life, choosing three and being pulled apart because of it—

Bdubs lets out a breath. “Pearl, hey, no,” he says. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m your weapon.” He gets down to his knees, lowers his head before her, feels her gaze burn into the top of his head.

“Bit late for that,” she says. “I’m my own weapon now, mate. Don’t need you to attack for me anymore.”

“Well, no—but—” He looks up at her. “Pearl. I’m yours. I promise.”

“Right. And you’re Martyn and Etho’s too, huh? We can share.”

“I’m using Martyn!” he protests. “That’s—that’s all it is—I’m usin’ him because he’s the first red and he knows his stuff! And Etho—”

“I don’t mind about Etho,” Pearl interrupts. “Like I said, I know you guys have your little thing going on. I don’t care about that.”

“I set a trap in his base,” Bdubs blurts.

Pearl blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

“I set a trap in his base. Tripwire hook.” He grins. “Right outside the bedroom. I—I think I got Grian, in the end? But—could have been Etho. I coulda—could’ve been Etho.” He swallows.

“And you’d have been okay with that?” Pearl asks, smile gone from her face, expression suddenly very serious.

“I—after I set it, I went up to them. Had a chat. Lied the whole time. I coulda—coulda told him. I didn’t.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” she stresses.

She sounds dubious. Bdubs can’t blame her. He feels sick, swallowing back the bile that’s building in his throat.

“I—Pearl.”

“Bdubs?”

“I learned my lesson, Pearl. I learned—don’t put all your eggs in one basket! Because—because either they die, and then you get left alone, or—or it gets you killed, and you die. You gotta—I have two hands. I can be loyal to multiple people. But then I learned—when you do that? People aren’t loyal back. They don’t trust you anymore. Nobody else…” He laughs. “I feel like I’m the only one who can trust people like that anymore!”

“So…” She frowns. “So you’re making friends with everyone so you don’t get betrayed or left alone?”

“Exactly.” 

“And you know none of us are gonna trust you for doing that.”

He swallows again. “Yeah, I know.”

“And you’re doing it anyway?”

“Well, what else—what else am I supposed to do? I can’t… I can’t go back, Pearl. That’s… I can’t go back. You know how it is.”

“…Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’m—I want you to win, Bdubs,” she says. “Out of everyone—I want it to be you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So… You better not make me regret this.”

He blinks at her. “Regret what?”

She bows her head to him. “I’m your weapon,” she says, an echo of his earlier words. “And a bit more of a dangerous one at that.” Her smirk leaks back into her words as she glances up and winks at him. “So use me well, alright, Bdubs? I want you to win this.”

Bdubs’ heart is in his throat. He swallows it back down. It burns.

“I’ll do my best,” he promises. 

The door slams open, startling them both out of their skin.

“Hey guys—uh. What are you doing?”

“Oh, for—Judas Priest, Joel, learn to knock!”

“You invited me over! Or, Pearl did—hey Pearl.”

“Hey,” Pearl says. “Come on in! Sleepover at Bdubs’ time.”

“I can’t believe this is the last of our bases left standing. It’s, like, the worst one.”

“Hey!” 

“There’s no space in here!” To punctuate his statement, Joel slumps down against one wall, kicking Bdubs in the ribs as he does so. Bdubs grunts. “See?”

“It’s definitely not the most spacious…” Pearl acquiesces.

“Anyway. What were you guys doing before I came in?”

“Swearing loyalty,” Bdubs says. 

“Oh.” Joel blinks. “Do you need me to do that? Because I’m a Mounder for life. Loyal to the end.”

Bdubs and Pearl glance at each other.

“Somehow I actually believe him,” Bdubs stage-whispers, and Joel squawks in offence as Pearl barks out a laugh.

“No, I think you’re good,” she says. Leaning her head back against the wall, she says, “This is probably our final night.”

The three of them are quiet for a moment.

“Well,” says Joel. “We gotta make it to the end then, don’t we?”

He’s looking at Bdubs. They’re both looking at Bdubs. 

Bdubs nods.

“May the best Mounder win,” he says solemnly.

Joel grins.

[wheeboo]

a night to remember | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which a handsome stranger at the bar catches your attention. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. twice's jihyo since she was the first person to pop up in my head) GENRE. fluff, suggestive, 1920s-ish au, one-night stand au, strangers to ?? WARNINGS. implied sexual content (no actual smut), mentions of cigarettes (reader+jihyo smokes cuz it was socially acceptable at the time) and alcohol, drinking, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.9k

notes: this is obviously based off this masterpiece of a song "a night to remember" by beabadoobee and laufey which i could never do justice but i hope you enjoy! i also impulsively wrote this whole thing btwn the hours of 12-3am so its pretty rushed oops 😭

The dim glow of the flickering marquee lights of the bar spill onto the rain-soaked streets outside, beckoning every passerby to enter into the hazy world of cigarette smoke and clinking glasses. Each swinging of the door releases a burst of warm, smoky air into the cool, drenched night. The air buzzes with the lively chatter of other people, mingling in with the sultry notes of the saxophone and the sweet melodies of the piano drifting through the heavy atmosphere of the bar.

Sat on a worn-out barstool, you bring a cigarette up to your lips and inhale deeply as your eyes flutter to a close, the smoke from the tip suspending in the air and mixing with the potent scent of whiskey also filling your lungs.

"Must you always sit like a boring bystander? Come on, we're here to have fun!" Jihyo stumbles her way right next to you, her sequined dress glistening under the lights like a kaleidoscope.

You only respond to her with a playful roll of your eyes. And with a wry smile, Jihyo plucks the cigarette from your fingers, taking a theatrical, languid drag of her own before flicking the ashes into an already well-worn tray.

You scoff lightly, taking out a fresh cigar. "Well, you already took me here without much of a choice."

Jihyo raises an eyebrow, her grin unwavering. "Afraid of a little fun?"

"Not afraid," You reply with a smirk, swiftly igniting the cigar and leaning back against the bar behind you. "Just comfortable observing the fun itself."

"If you're just going to sit there and look pretty, you might as well have someone to look pretty for, honey," Jihyo teases, her eyes momentarily scanning across the room.

A puff of smoke escapes your lips as you retort, "Easy for you to say."

"Life's too short to be a wallflower, Y/N!" Jihyo exclaims dramatically.

"The excitement will come when it wants to, not when I force it, honey," You reply cryptically.

Jihyo drinks the rest of the bourbon from your glass before taking one last, begging glance in your direction. When you don't seem to want to budge, she shoots you a faint, pert grin before turning away towards the dance floor, each step she takes accentuating the dramatic shake of her hips. You can't help but let out a low chuckle.

The bar was not usually a place where you found yourself willingly. Usually, you'd take the comfortable bubble of your place over the haughty energy of this any day. But tonight, for some reason, the familiar discomfort feels strangely comforting; and plus𑁋much to Jihyo's preference of unwinding𑁋you didn't have much of a choice either way.

From the side, you have the opportunity to simply watch. For example, there's a couple lost in each other's gaze sitting a few tables away from you. Maybe today is their first date, maybe they're rekindling a flame that has flickered in the past, or maybe they've been together for years, and this is their escape from the routines of life.

Then, down at the centre of the bar and close to the small stage at the front where a beautiful young woman stood with a microphone in front of her, there's a group of young friends sharing laughter of their own that gets lost in the music. It reaches your ears almost perfectly the more you focus on them, and it makes you smile to yourself𑁋you like seeing other people happy.

You turn yourself around on the barstool, facing the array of alcohol bottles that are all perfectly lined up together on the shelves. You cup your empty glass in your hands, swaying it lightly as the sounds of the ice clinking against the sides echo softly. The bartender who was perhaps metres away seems to notice your empty glass and gives you a nod, silently asking if you'd like a refill.

You raise your glass in acknowledgment. The bartender approaches up to you and reaches for a bottle with practiced ease, the amber liquid flowing smoothly into your glass once more.

But just as you were about to bring the cup to your lips, the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention. A new figure steps into the bar, their silhouette momentarily framed by the rain-soaked glow from outside, and you notice it's a man. A black fedora sits on his head, hiding away any view you could possibly have of his face, and he wore an elegant black suit with a bow tie that seems to glisten with a subtle sheen against the lighting of the bar.

It wasn't until he takes off his fedora that you realise you just can't seem to stop staring at him, even with all the people brushing past him like he doesn't exist and the hectic activity of the bar. His blonde hair is perfectly styled and coiffed, his features gentle yet carrying an air of both mystery and familiarity. It's almost as if you've seen him before, but nothing particular in your mind rings a bell. Perhaps while walking down the street, across the quiet room of the city's library, or something as ridiculous as your past life, his face might have crossed your path at some point.

You watch the way he scans the room, appearing a bit lost but also intrigued, as if he's searching for something or someone.

And when he eventually lets his eyes sweep across the room and to the bar, his eyes lock onto yours like a snap, and it's enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. The air seems to thicken for a moment, and you couldn't tell if it was the hint of alcohol in your system that's playing with your vision or something else. His lips play into a slight smile as his eyes hold yours, and he puts his fedora back on, before you lose track of him in the crowd in a sudden blink.

You find yourself briefly dazed, spinning around to face the bar once more. You're quick to grab onto your glass once more, seeing the way your reflection sways in the amber liquid as you take a moment to collect yourself. All it took was one look to have your head spinning and your heart racing with a man you probably would never see again.

"What can I get for you?" the voice of the bartender catches your attention.

You glance up to answer. "Oh, I don't need𑁋"

"Just two waters, please."

At the corner of your eye, a black fedora sets itself down on the counter next to you. You turn, and there he is𑁋the man from earlier, standing with a confident yet intriguing demeanour. The bartender nods and gets to work, pouring two glasses of water.

The man turns to you, eyes dark like the night itself. "Mind if I join you?" he asks, a subtle tilt to his lips. His voice is smooth like a well-played jazz tune.

You're taken aback for a moment. The bartender places two glasses of water on the bar in front of you, and you nod, almost hesitantly. The man sidles into the seat beside you, his fingers subtly brushing the tips of yours as he secures himself comfortably on the barstool, and it sends a jolt through your body, a sensation that lingers longer than it should. You catch a whiff of his cologne, both intoxicating and familiar, as it intertwines with the lingering scents of tobacco and whiskey.

"Thank you," he says, eyes never leaving yours as he lifts the glass of water to his lips. "The water is for you, by the way."

You chuckle shyly as you tap your fingers against the cold glass of water, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. "Water? In a place like this?"

He smirks at this, a sight both amusing and enticing. "Well, we don't want to do anything regrettable, right?"

His words seem to crawl under your skin, and it's enough to convince you. You take a sip of the water, the cool liquid a stark comparison to the warmth spreading through all the corners of your body, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. He also takes another sip of his own water, his eyes following your every move as you nearly down the entire glass. The way he looks at you𑁋with that dark, piercing stare that heavily clashes with the soft features of his handsome face𑁋makes your heart pound in your chest.

Around you, the bar has seemingly grown quiet, the only sound the soft music playing in the background. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin, and it's taking everything in you not to choke.

He breaks the silence with a charming smile, eyes now softened. "I'm assuming you don't come here often, do you?"

You meet his gaze with a coy smile, the corners of your mouth lifting. "You're quite the detective, aren't you?" There's a satisfied look to his face, and you clasp your hands together. "but to answer your question𑁋no, not exactly. How about you?"

"Ah, I had just moved here recently, actually," he reveals, which still doesn't seem to help the fact that you swear you've seen him before. It still draws you in, of course, and you can't help but wonder more about the mystery surrounding him𑁋both the one in his eyes and the one lingering in the air. The dim light of the bar casts a subtle glow on his features, and you find yourself captivated by the play of shadows and highlights dancing on his face.

"Welcome to the city then," You say it like a grand gesture. "It could be quite daunting at times, but you'll get used to it."

His gaze doesn't waver, and there's a quiet intensity in the way he studies you. "Perhaps I could get used to it faster if I had the right company."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the proximity between you two. The bar, the jazz music, the muted conversations around you𑁋all fade into the background as if the world has momentarily narrowed down to the space between your barstools.

"Smooth," You reply, a half-smile playing on your lips. "Is that your usual approach?"

He chuckles. "Only in certain situations."

A sly grin forms on your face. "And is this one of those situations?"

He tilts his head slightly as if in thought. "If you want it to be, of course."

All you could do is let out a soft laugh𑁋a laugh that blends with the faint jazz music playing in the background, a laughter that indeed signals the beginning of an unpredictable night.

"To new beginnings?" You raise your nearly-empty glass of water up to him.

He raises his glass in response, and the crystal-clear water catches the ambient lighting above, creating a small, sparkling spectacle on the surface of the bar counter.

"To new beginnings," he echoes.

The next minutes fly by in a breeze. Usually, letting people into your little bubble only causes for you to raise your guard up a bit more. You certainly didn't expect an utter stranger to intrigue you this much, just like a moth to a flame, especially in a place you never frequented to attend. You don't even mind the way his hand somehow found its rightful place on top of yours as you simply talked, or the way a glass of water can make you feel more alive than the strongest drink in the entire bar. And instinctively, your eyes would focus on the way his lips move he as he spoke, just barely catching all the words leaving his mouth.

When the music shifts to a more intimate tone, he looks into your eyes, a subtle invitation lingering in the air.

"Care to share a dance?" he asks, and the simple invitation is enough to course that warmth of anticipation through you once more.

The decision lingers in the air and his hand is extended towards you, a heartbeat away from being made.

And without a word, you slide off the barstool, your hand finding its place in his. He locks his grip on yours, and drags you in the direction of the small dance floor, the pungent smells of cigarette smoke and aged whiskey lingering as you weave through the crowd together.

When he suddenly pulls you closer to him, the scent of his cologne envelops you. His hand rests securely on the small of your back, guiding you with a subtle yet confident touch, the warmth of his fingers seeping through the fabric of your outfit. It sends a thrill through your body that heightens every single one of your senses.

As the music reaches its spirited crescendo, he spins you gently, the movement endearingly awkward, but you both don't care. When he brings you back into his arms, you're suddenly close to him way more than before, enough for his lips to be so close to yours that you can feel his warm breath against your skin.

The song slowly approaches its end, but he doesn't let you go. Yet just as the distance between your lips disappears, he stops. A teasing grin plays on his face, and he pulls away slightly, though your gaze doesn't intend to move away from his mouth.

"You're one of those," You remark airily.

He spins you around again, letting his fingers dance on the skin of your back. "Guilty as charged."

As the song draws to a close, he dips you in a move that feels straight out of a film. Your heart races, and when he pulls you back up, his lips are dangerously close to yours again. But this time, he doesn't hold back, and the kiss is a slow burn, gentle yet intensely passionate. One of his hands come to delicately cup your face, and the other brings you flush against him.

When the kiss breaks, he smiles, a genuine and warm expression that makes your heart flutter.

"Tell me your name," he whispers, breath caressing your cheek.

You meet his gaze, a playful glint in your eyes. "Maybe we’re more similar than you believe."

This only makes him lean in once again.

"Let's keep it that way, then," he suggests, grinning against your ear as if sharing a secret meant for only you. "Care to get out of here?"

It doesn't anything more than that for you to agree with a smile. Without uttering a word, you nod, your hand still entwined with his as you allow him to guide you through the dissipating crowd towards the exit of the bar. He ushers you outside, and the cool droplets that linger on the city's surfaces glisten under the streetlights.

The lively jazz bars highlight at the heart of the city within the late hours of the night, and his place isn't much farther than you anticipated thankfully.

It all happens so fleetingly𑁋one moment you're outside the door to his place, and another you're within the comfort of his bedroom, kissing him so feverishly with your fumbling hands on the buttons of his suit until you both fall on the bed, that the world outside seems to vanish. And when his hand makes contact with your skin for the first time, you could only gasp.

This is a night you will remember, and you'll make sure of it.

You dress yourself back in your clothes in the hushed morning. A comfortable silence lingers in the room, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the waking city. The rain outside has completed ceased away, bathing the bedroom in a soft glow of dawn.

The events of the night replay in your mind like a reel of a film𑁋the moment your eyes first met, the touches of his hands against yours, the kiss you shared on the dance floor, and the whispers of sweet nothings to your ear right underneath the sheets you sat atop.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks from behind, the huskiness of his voice making you pause.

You can sense the unspoken words hanging in the air𑁋the silent acknowledgment that this is a chapter that closes as the sun rises.

"Unfortunately, I must," You reply with a wistful smile, reaching for your shoes. "Real life calls."

He sits up on his bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, and you can't help but admire the way the morning light dances on the bareness of his body, his disheveled hair, and the remnants of the night before etched into his beautiful skin. There's a subtle tension that crackles in the air, and he clears his throat.

"Will I… see you again?"

You turn to face him, the playfulness in your eyes replaced by a hint of contemplation. The smile still doesn’t fade away from your lips.

"Who knows? Life is full of surprises, after all."

He watches you for some time as you fully dress yourself, a gaze struggling between the line of intimacy and distance, letting his eyes soak in your figure.

"Do you regret it at all?"

A pause, like a second and an eternity rolled into one. The room holds a quiet acknowledgment, a shared understanding that some moments are meant to be lived fully, without dwelling on what comes after, while others are meant to come and go like a shooting star. You aren’t entirely sure which this falls under.

"No," You answer simply, before setting your feet on the floor and standing up. "Not at all."

Another round of silence follows as you gather the rest of your belongings, trying to ignore the bittersweet ache in your chest threatening to cut you open. You feel his gaze lingering on you as you move about the room, still feeling those embers of the night before dancing upon your skin, as if they're fighting their way to linger a little longer, to save every last trace of the moments you shared.

"Joshua," he states as if in response to the unspoken question hanging in the air. "Joshua Hong."

His name escapes his lips like a secret, and you savour the sound of it, committing it to memory, committing him to memory. You ponder the thought of what it would be like to have your name said at the tip of his tongue in some other distant, intimate moment.

"Y/N," You whisper your name in return, the final piece of the exchange. "Y/N L/N."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drawn Together 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

I saw this and had to

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You are not a rebel. You are clean cut. You live within very precise boundaries. Minimizing every part of yourself to evade notice. Rules are not meant to be broken, despite that old cliche.

That is until that day. It's foolish, you know it. That voice in the back of your head repeats your foreboding. You know you can't go back. There isn't a magic eraser for this one.

Shut up.

You're over it. Over yourself. Over your boring life. You've never done one fun thing for just yourself. It's always been what has to be done. What must be done. You're thirty years old and you don't even know if you understand the concept of 'fun'.

You sit on the leather bench. Nervous and shaky as hell. There's still time to change your mind. You can take your deposit and go, with clean untainted skin.

No! You're not going to chicken out this time. You want one memory that doesn't end in you tucking tail and running.

"Do you like the sketch?" Sam, your assigned artist asks.

You glance over at him as he pulls on a pair of black gloves, his gun laid out and sterilised. You peek at the open sketchbook, the drawing of a simple red poppy outlined in black with a thick spiraled green stem. Nothing too big or extravagant, easy to hide. If your mother or father ever saw that, you would be excommunicated.

"I love it," your voice quavers and you clear your throat, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little anxious."

"That's fine. First time, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I don't even have piercings," you give a brittle chuckle, "I'm not really the adventurous type."

"I'm sure you are in your own way," he grins, a look that calms you. "So, we still set on ankle?"

"Um, yeah, I think that's good."

"As good a starting place as any. Glad I talked you off the ribs. Those are tender."

"Just an idea," you breathe, "I don't know much about these things."

"Not to worry, you're in good hands," he winks, "you can just relax," he rolls his stool to the foot of the bench, "and pop your leg up here."

"Right," you gulp down another chest full of air and follow his direction, "that's it?"

"And keep still. Tell me if you need a break. The pains a bit much at times so don't be afraid to speak up."

"Okay, sounds good," you try to settle in but your blood feels thick and your vision speckles with silver. Oh god, you're really going to do this.

"Don't hold your breath," he says, "really, I don't like my canvases passing out."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, you want something to drink before we start?"

"No, I'm good."

"Awesome," he says and grabs his gun, double checking the tip before moving back to your ankle. "Alright, I'll count down so you're not too surprised."

"Thanks," you fold your hands over your stomach as he positions your leg and bends forward.

He counts from three and you focus on not moving at the first stab of pain. Don't be a weak bitch. You grit your teeth and let out your breath as the gun buzzes loudly. The pain keeps a steady sear in your skin but you slowly get used to the sensation.

As he works, your eyes wander along the dark red walls and the artwork hanging all around. Tattoos in colour and black and white. The schematics of a tattoo gun. A falcon crest wrought in brass.

You hear the door open and the smoky voice of the other artist, Nat greets the newcomer you can't see past the pillar. The response is a deep, rocky timbre. You can only imagine the inked up brute behind it.

"Always with the notes," you hear a paper crinkle, "I'm the artist here, Rogers."

"Hey, I'm an artist too," the man counters lightly.

You peek over as the redhead woman appears on the other side of the pillar and guides her client through to her open workspace. An open curtain drapes against the wall at the other end of the shop. She sets down the page and tuts as she looks it over.

The man slides off a pair of dark sunglasses, black lenses with golden frames. He slips them into the pocket of his denim jacket and tugs at the sleeves. Their actions seem to be routine and you can see why. His arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in ink, a few smaller tattoos on his knuckles. Now you really feel out of place. 

"Sam, what's up?" The other client calls over as he hangs the denim on the coat rack.

"What's it look like, Steve?" Sam says, his eyes not leaving your ankle.

You take in the interaction silently. You're a stranger among the usuals. The poser getting their taste of artificial danger. Your ankle tweaks and you smother a grunt between your teeth. The noise catches the blue eyes of the man, Steve.

You quickly avert your eyes back to Sam and knot your fingers together. Steve's shadow moves away. The artist at your bench hardly seems bothered but gives a shake of his head.

"You want the curtain?" Natasha asks as she approaches the black drapes.

"Nah, you know I don't care."

Your eyes flick up as the man peels off his tank top. Wow. You blink rapidly and make yourself act normal. 

He lowers himself onto the leather seat as Natasha takes out her tools and starts sterilising. You once more force your attention back to Sam's careful work. It's going to take a while.

"You good?" He asks as he glances over, lifting the gun from your skin.

"Great," you murmur in an airy voice.

"Still nervous?"

"No, actually, kinda excited," you try not to speak too loud, overly mindful of the other client in the shop.

"Good," he hunches again and you suck in as he put the needle back to your skin. "So, what do you do? When you're not getting sick tats, that is?"

"Um, I, er, I teach. Music lessons."

"Music, huh? You seem like… the drummer type."

"Piano," you correct him, "I can carry a beat–" you pause to check the pain in your voice, "but I mostly teach piano."

"Classy," he remarks, "so, a poppy, any particular meaning to that?"

"Er, no, uh," you rub your neck nervously but make yourself quit moving, "it's my favourite flower."

"Pretty sombre fave but I get it," he remarks.

"Yeah, I guess…"

Your attention is drawn at the soft slap of skin and the rattle of metal. You look up as Steve retracts his hand and Natasha points at him with a sharp nail, "this is a sterile workspace."

He chuckles at her irritation and shows his palms before he sits back. He rolls his shoulders as he leans casually and twiddle his fingers against his jeans. Once more, your eyes meet and his mouth slants slightly. You gulp and look down again.

"So, any ideas for a second piece?" Sam asks.

"I think I'm gonna stick with one."

"Not gonna get a full bouquet?" He wonders.

"Not yet."

"Better get cozy, Rogers," Natasha says.

You look up as she sprays shaving foam onto his chest.

"You know this is my second home," he teases as he relaxes and she spreads the cream.

"Don't remind me," she grumbles as she takes a razor.

You tear away from your distraction once more. Gosh, it is painful. You don't know how people end up like him. Your tiny little flower will be more than enough for you.

You close your eyes and groan. Sam rests his hand on your calf. He squeezes as he pauses again.

"Need a break."

"No, keep going," you puff out.

You grip the side of the leather bench and bite down. You've always been a big baby. You bat away the gloss of tears threatening to confirm that and take another breath.

The subtle creak of leather pulls your gaze back across the room. Steve leans slightly around to see you past Nat as she shaves one side of his chest. You grimace and hide beneath your lashes.

Why is he looking at you like that? It must be amusing, someone like you in a place like that. Now you know this is definitely a mistake.

[fluffytriceratops]

→ryūnosuke tanaka - just friends←

notes: HAHAHAHAHA PAIN- [pre time skip]. This was a request by one of my lovely friends @shrimpppy . I hope you guys enjoy it! This imagine has been in the works for a while and I have more on the back burner waiting to be finished as well.

(If you want me to tag you in my future haikyuu x reader stuff, feel free to lemme know and I’ll tag you!)

I hope you all have a lovely day/night!!

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

She took in a wobbly breath, her bottom lip quivering as she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. Trying her hardest to slow her tears.

She hated love. Absolutely loathed it.

All it brought along was pain and misery. There was no such thing as a fairytale romance. No such thing as love at first sight. No such thing as soulmates. It was just an aching, sinking feeling in her chest. A black hole swallowing her completely.

Love was chaos.

And she never wanted to feel it again.

—

"What are you doing?" He asked in confusion, staring down at the girl in front of him.

Y/n was hanging upside down off her couch, lips pursed in a pout and eyebrows drawn together. "Looking for a new perspective." She hummed simply.

Tanaka bobbed his head with a nod, as if he understood what she was talking about. "Ahh, I see. Yeah that makes perfect sense."

Y/n snorted at his mocking tone, "If you're going to be snippy about it, you can leave."

Ryū huffed, "You're the one who invited me, dumbass." He took a spot on the couch next to her, putting his legs up on the back of it and hanging down much like she was.

She simply responded by sticking her tongue out at him. Tanaka copied her.

"What exactly are you trying to gain a new perspective of?"

Y/n's head turned towards him and she stared at him for a moment. Taking in the sight of her best friend. Ryū was beautiful. At least, she thought so. For a bald headed weirdo. Yes, he would argue that he was not bald and in fact buzzed, but she'd simply shrug and say they were the same thing - if only to mess with him further.

His eyes were mesmerizing. Dark and stormy. Reminding her of the sea. She could hear the waves crashing against the shore. His hands, large and calloused, yet warm. Strong. Comforting. His smile, toothy and wide. As bright as the sun. How she adored his smile.

As she gazed at him, she pondered whether or not she should be honest with him.

"Just..." she started, getting lost in his eyes as he watched her. Waiting patiently for a reply. "Life."

And there it was. That smile. Taking up half of his face as he let out a boisterous and contagious laugh.

"You're such a dork, y'know that?"

Y/n's heart squeezed at the sight before her and she let out a chuckle of her own. Reaching over to shove at Ryūnosuke playfully. "Shut up, jack ass."

—

Y/n had been best friends with Ryūnosuke for as long as she could remember. They were neighbors and his older sister often babysat her as a kid. Of course, Ryū would tag along on occasion, as they were around the same age. (She was 9 months younger, but she didn't count that-)

They didn't hit it off instantly. In fact, Y/n thought Ryū to be an impulsive and pigheaded oaf half the time. And Ryū thought her to be a conceded and pristine little brat. But over time they started to like each other more and more.

Now they were practically inseparable.

Tanaka's parents weren't around much, and so he came over a lot. All the time, actually. And because his sister worked as hard as she did, it was usually just him and Y/n. And her parents both worked too, so they weren't always home either.

Not that they minded. They liked it being just the two of them. And had developed a close bond because of that. They even had their own traditions. No one else was apart of it, it was just them. Always had been and hopefully always would be.

It wasn't until semi-recently that Y/n had discovered her feelings for Tanaka.

Truth be told, she kind of always knew. But she ignored them. Pretended they were something else. Forced herself to believe otherwise.

It was fear that kept those feelings at bay. Hidden deep within herself. But over time, the things you bottle up have to come out eventually. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't bottle up her feelings forever.

Sooner or later they were bound to erupt.

—

Y/n's hands clutched at her notebook, crinkling some of the paper from the force. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure it was going to explode. Her palms became clammy and she bit down on her lip to stop it from quivering.

She had come to see Tanaka's practice, like she usually did whenever she had the time.

However, this was not what she came here to see. Ryūnosuke fawning all over Kiyoko. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed it, but each time felt like a stab to the chest.

She hated seeing him get so excited over a girl.

A girl that wasn't her.

Envy ran through her veins and no matter how hard she tried to force the nauseating feeling to go away, it never did. Y/n felt stupid. Getting so overworked, so upset, over a guy.

But this wasn't just any guy. It was Ryū.

The same boy who shoved her childhood bullies off the swing sets when they made her cry. The same boy who would carry spiders outside for her, because while she was scared of them she didn't want them to die. The same boy who snuck through her window every time she had a nightmare. The same boy who gave her his umbrella because she didn't have one, and walked home in the rain instead. The same boy who gave her flowers every year on her birthday, her favorite kind too. The same boy who brought her boiled potatoes every day for a week straight because she was sick and wouldn't eat anything else.

This was Ryūnosuke Tanaka, her greatest and grandest friend.

And he was in love with Kiyoko. Not her.

Y/n waited for Tanaka outside the gym like she usually did. They always walked home together.

However, Tanaka was no where in sight.

Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, she chose to wait for him. She busied herself with reading, Y/n always kept a book on her. She had an earbud in as well, playing one of her many playlists in an attempt to further help pass time.

It wasn't until about 45 minutes later that Tanaka actually showed. She snapped her book shut, slipping it away into her bag and doing her best not to show her irritation.

"Hey," she glanced up at him and nodded in greeting. "Hey."

"Sorry I'm a bit late."

She shrugged as if it was nothing. "It's fine. I used the time to catch up on my reading."

"Well at least you got to do that." He teased as the two of them began walking. Y/n rolled her eyes, chancing a glance in his direction. Ryū had his eyes on the sky, his hands were shoved into the pockets of the gray hoodie he was wearing. He hadn't realized she was looking at him, thankfully. He always walked on the side closest to the road, wanting to protect his friends.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Simply enjoying the sights and each other's company. Like they usually did. Y/n couldn't help but think of earlier. Of the way Ryū's eyes lit up at the sight of Kiyoko. Of how he showed off for her during practice. How his smile, the one that was as bright as the sun, was directed towards her. Was she the reason he was late?

"So," she breathed out, tearing her gaze away from him just as he glanced in her direction. "Is Kiyoko the reason why you were late?" Her tone was teasing, and she grinned at him as if she truly believed there was no way that could be true. As if it was just a joke between two friends.

Tanaka's cheeks warmed at the accusation and he cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah, actually.."

Her smile instantly fell.

"What?"

"We were just talking and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to make you wait so long. But uh, I've been thinking of asking her out."

Y/n blinked, trying her best to wrap her head around this. "Ask her out?" Her chest tightened and her stomach dropped. Ryū had once again returned his gaze to the sky, so he had yet to notice her rigid posture and the frown pulling at her soft lips.

"Yeah. I've had a thing for her for a long time now, and I think.. I think she might like me too. At least, that's what Noya said." He turned to flash a grin in her direction, but it faltered at the broken expression she wore.

"Y/n? Hey, are you okay?"

She felt like a hot iron rod had been shoved down her throat. She nodded, a bit too quickly and did her best to force a smile on her face. "What? Yeah, of course. I'm fine. Just thinking is all... I'm really happy for you, Ryū." Her voice wobbled as she spoke his name and she bit down on her tongue. Praying he wouldn't notice.

Ryūnosuke didn't look convinced, but luckily, he decided against saying anything. At least, for now. "Thanks, Y/n. So uh.. I was hoping you'd help me with something?"

She couldn't speak, tongue thick and heavy. So she only nodded, being unable to do anything else.

"Do you think you could help me ask her out? I mean- I just- want to say all the right stuff, ya know?" His cheeks were pink, pinker than they were before. And he wouldn't meet her gaze. She was thankful for that, at least.

Her eyes stung with tears and at the sight of her house she began to pick up the pace. Tanaka seemed to notice this, and he arched a thick brow in confusion. "Y/n?"

"Yes." She choked out, quickly making her way to the door and keeping her back to him. Throat tight as she fumbled with her keys. "Y-Yeah, I'll help you. Sorry I just uh, I gotta pee so- I'll- I'll see you later-" she didn't give him a chance to respond as she opened the door and quickly shut it behind her.

Y/n's back hit the door and she stood there. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Slowly her tears began to slip down her cheeks and then she found herself sliding down the door. Hand coming up to press against her mouth, to muffle her cries.

This was silly.

This was stupid.

She couldn't possibly be crying over a boy.

But no matter how hard she willed herself to stop, to force her tears to stop flowing. They only came faster, blurring her vision and restricting her air flow. Her breaths came out in short bursts, gasping as she wailed.

She pulled her knees to her chest, cradling herself in an attempt to give herself some small form of comfort. As she predicted, it didn't really work.

—

Y/n didn't respond to any of his texts that night. Instead replying in the morning and making an excuse of getting distracted by homework.

Tanaka either bought it, or decided against saying anything.

The next few days were filled with her giving her advice on how to ask Kiyoko out. She decided to bite the bullet and just get it done and over with. She was his best friend, after all. This is what a best friend does. She wanted Tanaka to be happy. And if that meant helping him get together with some other girl, then so be it.

Besides, their special tradition was coming up. And at least she got to look forward to that.

Every year, on the anniversary of their friendship, Ryūnosuke and Y/n would get together on her rooftop and watch the sunrise. No matter what day it was, how tired they got, if they had school the next day. It didn't matter. Because this was for them. Just them. It was a special moment for the both of them and they looked forward to it each year.

That wasn't all they did. They'd usually decorate the roof together, make a little area with pillows and blankets where they could sit comfortably. They'd hang a sheet from a wire connecting to some trees for a makeshift screen and use her small projector to watch some of their favorite movies. They'd make snacks together, which usually would end up in a food fight. They'd snuggle up under a blanket and watch the stars, laughing at inside jokes and reminiscing on memories. Tanaka would pretend he knew constellations and would make up random names for them, pointing to bunches of stars as if they were the real deal.

Sure, it wasn't a grand affair but it was fun. And it was special. It was tradition.

Wednesday, 4:37 PM.

ryū <3

hey, i'm gonna be a bit late

i promised kiyoko i'd

take her home

y/n

hey, that's okay thanks

for letting me know

want me wait for you to set

up and make the snacks?

ryū <3

nah thats okay

you can start without me

—

Y/n bit down on her lip in frustration, staring down at her phone in her hand. He didn't want to help set up? He didn't want to help with the snacks?

They've always set up together.

They've always made the snacks together.

It was tradition. It was part of the fun.

Maybe he'd make it in time to still help out a bit?

Y/n stashed her cell away in her pocket before setting off to work. She placed down a blanket on top of the roof and grabbed a few folded ones for them to use when they were up there. She put up some of her fairy lights and then set up some lanterns. The sheet was next, coupled by her laptop and projector. She tossed up some extra pillows for more comfort before getting started on the food.

Cookies, they were a must. They had them every year. Chocolate chip and gingerbread. Hot cocoa was also a must. She prepared an array of different snacks, some which she had gotten earlier in the week for this very night. She had to travel all the way to Tokyo for a few of them. Their favorite bakery was there and held some fan favorites they had each year. The owners knew them by name. They knew exactly what they came for when they came in around this time of year.

This time, Y/n ended up coming alone. It did not go unnoticed. She claimed Tanaka was busy, which he was, trying to seduce Kiyoko. But that didn't make it any harder.

Everything was ready. An hour and a half had passed and Ryū still hadn't shown.

Y/n was just about to call him when she heard a knock on her door. Strange, Ryū never knocked he always just came in but she didn't think much of it and moved to answer the door.

"Well it's about damn time. What took you so long anyway-" she yanked the door open and stopped in her tracks.

Ryū beamed up at her sheepishly, apologetically, and next to him stood Kiyoko.

"Hey, sorry we're late. We got to talking and time just flew by!"

Y/n blinked, hand still on the doorknob, half tempted to slam the door in their faces. "It's.. fine.."

"Did you get everything done in time?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh great! Think we can come in? It's fucking freezing out here."

Y/n was silent for a moment, staring at his arm which was thrown over Kiyoko's shoulders.

"Earth to Y/n?"

The door flung open. "Yeah, yeah, come in." She turned her back to them, eyes stinging as she padded her way to the kitchen.

This had to be some fucking joke, right?

He was messing with her, wasn't he?

"Sorry for coming without warning, Tanaka ensured me it was okay." Kiyoko spoke from behind her and Y/n took in a quiet breath before responding.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." She flashed a small smile towards her from over her shoulder, trying to remain polite and civil.

Kiyoko sent a small smile back.

"The food looks great!" Ryū hummed, observing the array set out on the kitchen island. "You outdid yourself this time, Y/n."

Said female could only smile. Not knowing what to say. Part of her still couldn't believe this was real.

The three of them helped bring some of the snacks up to the roof, they had to get there via Y/n's bedroom window. Which she found a bit awkward. Kiyoko had never been to her house before. They weren't very close and while she was a nice girl it just felt strange having her in her room.

Perhaps this was Tanaka's way of getting them to become closer? The girl he liked and his best friend. But if that was the case, why did he have to pick tonight of all times? It was their special night. Their tradition. No one else had ever been involved, had ever been allowed to be involved.

Y/n had just finished grabbing the container of cookies as she made her way to the window. Ryū and Kiyoko were already settled on the rooftop. They had a blanket draped over their shoulders and their hands were connected. She did her best not to stare. They were talking to each other, she had no idea what the conversation was about and honestly she didn't care.

She didn't want to sit next to them while they were cuddling, but she didn't have much of a choice. She did her best not to seem stiff and awkward, but she failed miserably.

They had barley been here five minutes and she already felt like a third wheel.

Y/n decided to start one of the movies, as Tanaka and Kiyoko had been talking for the past several minutes while she just sat there. At least this way she might be able to distract herself from this horrendous night. And perhaps they'd shut the fuck up.

The talking did calm down a little, but Ryū was still very much all over Kiyoko. The sight alone was enough to make Y/n's blood boil. She felt so uncomfortable. And she was angry that he brought her here in the first place. This was their thing. Their special night. Their tradition. Sure, it might not have been very flashy. All they did was sit at home and hang out. But it was their thing. They did it every year. They had never brought along other friends before.

And he hadn't even asked if it was okay first.

Y/n was torn between just letting it go and trying to have a good time, or allowing herself to be mad about it. She wouldn't say anything in front of Kiyoko. That wasn't fair to her. It wasn't like she asked to be here, Tanaka was the one who brought her along and said it was okay. But even then, she didn't want to make him feel bad either. Maybe she was just being stupid.

She was torn from her thoughts at the sound of Kiyoko giggling at something Ryū had said. Y/n glanced over in their direction, being unable to stop herself. He had his arm around her shoulders and was feeding her something. She laughed as she took it from him, shaking her head to herself. Their cheeks were flushed and Y/n felt her stomach drop. She started to stand up and make her way towards her bedroom window.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom real quick," she mumbled out the excuse, and Tanaka nodded in acknowledgment.

Y/n climbed through the window, being careful not to trip as she made her way inside. Like she had said, she went to her bathroom which was connected to her room.

After closing and locking the door behind her, Y/n turned to face her relfection in the mirror. Her eyes were glazed with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She sucked in a shaky breath and turned on the cold water, splashing her face with it.

Why was this so complicated? She should just suck it up and be happy for him.

There was nothing she could do about it now. Her feelings would have to be bottled up and forgotten.

No matter how hard it may be.

Y/n let out a sigh and dabbed her face dry with a towel. "I can't wait for this shit to be over..."

As she made her way back into her room, she paused in front of her window. Freezing in place at the sight before her.

Her hands latched onto each other. Gripping so tightly they shook. Her eyes were wide and glossy, and she bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling.

Kiyoko and Tanaka were kissing. One of his massive paws was cupping the side of her face and the other sat on her waist. One of her hands cupped the back of his neck while the other sat atop his shoulder.

That was the final straw.

Y/n yanked the window open, causing Kiyoko to jump and pull away from Tanaka at the sound. She closed the laptop and started tossing things inside her room.

"Y/n, what-"

"You guys have to leave."

Ryū arched a brow in confusion. "What, why?"

She shook her head, claiming she'd get the rest later and threw their jackets at them. Tanaka caught them easily. "Don't worry about cleaning up, I can do it." Y/n said, waving Kiyoko off as she reached to help with a food platter.

The two shared a look before following Y/n inside. She started carrying the food in, quickly putting them on the kitchen island. Before she could slip past them to grab the rest, Tanaka reached over and grabbed her arm. Holding her firmly in place. "Y/n, stop. What's goin' on?"

Y/n looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek to contain herself. "It's nothing-"

"Well, clearly it isn't. We've barley been here an hour-"

"My cat is sick!" She blurted. Being unable to come up with a better excuse.

Ryū's eyebrows furrowed. "Toji? He looked fine earlier-"

"He's sick. He was throwing up when I came in." She sputtered, sticking to it and hoping Toji was hiding somewhere- that was until she saw Toji brushing up against Tanaka's leg. He sent her a look.

"He seems fine to me."

Kiyoko bent down and gave him a scritch, the feline let out a little mew. Purring as she pet him.

Y/n's face paled and she quickly yanked herself out of Tanaka's grip and reached down to grab her cat. Cradling him in her chest. "No, I think he ate a toxic plant - I thought I saw him eating something and I wasn't sure before but-but now I am! So you guys need to go."

She ushered them towards the door, Ryūnosuke nearly tripping over his own two feet as she did so. "Y/n-"

"I'll call you later. Promise." She sent him a tight lipped smile and made no hesitation to quickly slam the door shut once they were outside.

Toji wriggled in her grasp, but she didn't let him go. Not until a few minutes had passed and she was sure they were gone. The fat cat jumped from her arms and went to go munch on some leftover kibble in his dish. Y/n watched him with a teary gaze. Silent and still. She sniffled, reaching up to wipe at her eyes harshly.

This was shit.

This whole evening sucked shit.

Their tradition felt lame. It felt like he didn't even care about it anymore.

She was done with it. She didn't want to deal with these stupid feelings anymore.

"Stupid Ryū.." she cried, shuffling over towards the island and snatching up a cookie. She practically shoved the entire thing in her mouth, muffling her cries.

"Fuck.." She sniffed, "I hate men."

—

A week went by and Y/n did her best to avoid Kiyoko and Tanaka. She barley responded to his texts and definitely didn't answer his calls. Y/n felt it was best to take herself out of the equation. It was too hard to be around the two of them. Especially right now. Maybe once her feelings for him faded a bit?

She dodged him as best as possible, saying she was keeping a close eye on Toji and she had lots of homework to do anyway.

But keeping away from him provided to be more difficult that she originally thought. He was a persistent mother fucker. He obviously knew something was wrong, or off, but no matter what he did or how hard he tried, Y/n wouldn't tell him what. She'd just brush him off and tell him she had something to do. Then she would leave. She hadn't been to any of his practises either.

Ryūnosuke didn't know what was going on, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Y/n opened her locker to get a textbook she needed for her final class. She was listening to music in a poor attempt to drown out her sorrows. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, the female jumped and whipped around. Hand coming up on instinct and slapping the person's face. Her mouth droppen open and she yanked out an ear bud. "Ryū! What the hell! You scared the crap out of me!"

Tanaka cradled his face, eyes wide in surprise before he let out a burst of chuckles. "Damn, Y/n. You're stronger than you look."

Said girl scowled. "Yeah.." she mumbled, not sure what else to say. She turned back towards her locker and started putting away a few things. "Did you need something?" Y/n was trying her hardest not to get upset. But it felt like someone had shoved cotton down her throat and she really wasn't ready to be this close to Ryū yet. She just needed some time...

"Actually, I did want to talk to you about something." He leaned against the lockers next to hers, sliding his hands into his pockets.

She let out a sigh. "I really don't have time right now, I need to get to my next class-"

"It'll only take a sec." He reasoned, taking her silence as a 'go ahead'.

"Look, I know you've been avoiding me lately and I just want to know why-"

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head to herself bitterly. Tanaka's eyebrows furrowed as he studied the sour expression on her face. "What?"

"It's nothing." She snipped, struggling to put her textbook into her bag. Fumbling with the opening as she tried to get herself to calm down.

"Well clearly it's something."

"Just drop it, Ryūnosuke." Y/n spat, shooting him a glare in frustration. Her chest was growing tight and it was starting to feel all stuffy in here. She finally got her textbook into her bag and slammed her locker shut.

Tanaka watched her in surprise, she never called him by his name. It was almost always Ryū. "No, I'm not gonna just drop it." He kicked himself off the lockers and moved in front of her, blocking her path.

"Move."

"No."

Her shoulders sunk. "Get out of the way."

He rose his brows, staring at her challengingly. "Not until to tell me what's going on."

Y/n ran her tongue along her teeth, once again shaking her head. "I'm not dealing with you right now." She moved to step past him but he grabbed her, stopping her from going anywhere.

"Y/n, I'm bein' serious. Tell me what's wrong." He pleaded, stormy eyes searching her own relentlessly.

"So am I. Now let me go." She demanded, trying and failing to get away from him. Her eyes were starting to sting and she knew she had to get out of there fast. Lest she break into tears in front of him.

"I will if you just tell me-"

"I don't want to do our tradition anymore!" She snapped, hands balling into fists, nails puncturing her skin.

Ryū's eyes widened and he took a moment to take what she said in. "What?"

"It's stupid, and it clearly doesn't matter to you anyways, so I'm done. I don't want to do it anymore." Y/n's voice cracked and she bit down on her lip to stop herself from saying anything more than that.

"What are you on about? Of course it matters to me." He huffed, completely taken aback by her words.

"Well clearly, it doesn't." She argued pathetically.

"Is.. is this because I brought Kiyoko over?"

Y/n let out a dry chuckle, lowering her head and blinking furiously to try and stop her tears. Just hearing it stung. It felt like a slap in the face. A bitter reminder of that horrid night. "It's our thing, Ryūnosuke. Ours. Not anyone elses. You should have called me, you should have asked first before just bringing her over."

"You're right. I'm sorry I didn't check with you first. But I didn't think it was a big deal. It's not like it's a super important tradition or anything."

Her gaze snapped up to his. "Not important?" She asked, ripping herself away from him.

"Y/n, I didn't mean- hold on a sec-" she tried to get past him again but he grabbed her once more, directing her back in front of him.

"It is important just not like... super important, y'know? It's just some silly thing we started doin' as kids. I thought it would be fun to bring other's into it." Tanaka reasoned, but Y/n shook her head.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. Because it's done. I don't want to do it anymore."

"Y/n, come on, you're seriously going to stop doing the tradition over something this stupid-"

"Yeah. I am."

Ryū's eyebrows came together in frustration and he clicked his tongue. "What is the matter with you? You haven't been acting like yourself."

Y/n rolled her eyes, fed up with his pestering. She just wanted to leave. It was too soon. He should have just let her go. "You're the one who isn't acting like themselves. Kiyoko this, Kiyoko that, fucking bullshit." She hissed, yanking a hand through her hair in agitation. She hadn't meant to let that slip out but she couldn't help herself. He had her cornered and she needed to get the hell out of there.

Ryūnosuke stared at her in shock, but before he could get another word out, Y/n removed herself from his grasp and stormed into the girl's bathroom. Slamming the door behind her.

It was too late to stop her tears now. Y/n cursed under her breath, glad no one else was in here. She started to fan at her face, hoping it would help. It was a futile attempt.

"Y/n, wait. Come back!" She heard Ryū's voice through the door and she puffed out her cheeks in agitation.

"Go away!" She choked out.

"Y/n, c'mon. I wanna talk about this." He leaned his head against the door, hitting the wood with a small thud.

"What did you mean by all that?"

She snorted at that, scrubbing at her eyes, thankful that she wasn't wearing any makeup or mascara to smudge.

"Y/n, don't make me come in there. You know I will." Ryūnosuke huffed, cringing as some passerbys sent him strange looks.

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She quickly slipped into one of the stalls, closing the lid and sitting down on the toilet. She buried her face in her hands and pray that he wouldn't come in or hear her crying.

Tanaka let out a sigh before pushing the door open and storming inside. He couldn't see Y/n anywhere but there was only one stall closed so he walked over to it and kicked the door open. Spotting his best friend sniffling into her hands, whilst sitting on the lid of the toilet.

He crouched down and placed a hands atop her knees. Giving them a gentle squeeze.

"I could have been peeing." She grumbles out angrilly and he cracks a small grin. "Y/n.. Talk to me. Please."

Y/n lets out a puff of air, peeking at him with red puffy eyes through her fingers. Ryū sends her an ecouraging smile, thumbs brushing against her legs softly. She wets her lips with her tongue nervously. "I'm happy for you, Ryūnosuke-"

"Stop calling me that."

She sends him a look.

"It's Ryū."

She snorts at this, rolling her eyes before continuing. "I'm happy for you, Ryū. I truly a-am. I don't want you to th-think that I'm not. I'm your best friend and if you're happy, I'm h-happy. But I can't help the aching feeling in my chest. I'm s-so scared of losing you. I don't w-wanna lose y-you. I just... I just need time. I dunno."

His eyebrows come together again as he processes this. "Is this about Kiyoko?"

Y/n deadpans. "No, it's about Nishi, you dumb fuck."

Her chest tightens with the realization that she's already said too much. And with the soft look on his face, she feels her heart stutter within her chest. Suddenly she's very aware of where his hands are. And she starts to shake her head. Trying to stand up and push Tanaka off of her.

"J-Just forget it, f-forget I said a-anything." She started, wishing this conversastion had never happened in the first place.

Ryū stumbled a bit, catching himself on the edge of the door before he could fall. He quickly stood up and grabbed Y/n by her arms, stopping her from going anywhere. He pinned her against the wall of the stall. "Y/n, stop! You can't just say all that stuff and then dip!"

"Yes, I can. I j-just did! Now let me go, Ryū!" She tried to get out of his hold again, but this time he wasn't letting her go anywhere. Not without a proper answer.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere! I don't understand, I know I can be a bit dense about this kinda stuff so I need ya to tell me straight up!"

"Ryū stop!" She wailed, pathetically trying to push him off of her.

"No! Tell me what's wrong! Tell me what's going on inside that thick head of yours! Tell me how I can fix this!" He begged, not meaning to yell at her but being unable to help himself.

"I like you, asshole!"

Ryūnosuke's eyes widen and in his moment of surprise, he losens his grip a little. Before he realizes, Y/n manages to shove him off of her. She pushed past him, a heap of tears, and runs out the bathroom.

Leaving Tanaka standing there dumbfounded. Eyes wide and breath hitched in his throat.

Man, he's really fucked up now...

[metalmonki]

Objection! Part 6

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Sonny’s P.O.V

I woke up with a stiff neck and a sour mood. The cot in the bunk room wasn’t exactly built for comfort, but it worked when you needed a quick nap. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had taken up permanent residence there, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hours, tops. Not enough, but it’d have to do.

Dragging myself out of bed, I grabbed my jacket and headed back to the bullpen. The precinct was buzzing, the low murmur of voices filling the air. Olivia was leaning over Amanda’s desk, talking quietly, while Finn stood off to the side nursing a coffee. Rafael was pacing with his phone in hand, looking as sharp and stressed as ever.

But something was off. It took me a second to realize what it was. Or rather, who was missing.

“Where’s Amaro? And Y/N?” I asked, my voice cutting through the noise. Everyone paused for a moment, looking at me.

Finn was the first to answer, taking a sip of his coffee. “Think they went chasing a lead. Y/N was deep in something earlier. Looks like she had a breakthrough.”

I frowned. “A lead? Nobody told me about a lead. When’d they leave?”

Amanda shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Maybe an hour ago? She and Amaro were at the board, talking about something. Didn’t catch the details.”

That didn’t sit right with me. Y/N wasn’t the kind of person to rush off without looping someone in, but Amaro? If they went off together, it had to be important. My gut twisted, that bad feeling I couldn’t quite name settling in.

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Y/N.

“Hey, where are you? Finn says you and Amaro went chasing a lead. Let me know you’re okay. Don’t make me come find you.”

I hit send and stared at the screen, willing it to light up with her reply. Nothing. The seconds dragged on like hours.

“Anyone hear from them since they left?” I asked, glancing around the room.

Rafael looked up from his phone, frowning. “No, but that’s not unusual. They could be following up on something.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, trying to convince myself that was all it was. But my gut wasn’t buying it.

Olivia must’ve noticed the look on my face because she walked over, her expression soft but serious. “Sonny, what’s going on? You think something’s wrong?”

I hesitated, weighing my words. “I don’t know, Liv. It just doesn’t feel right. Y/N’s not impulsive, not like Amaro. If they went after something, it must’ve been big. And if they’re not checking in…”

Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder. “Let’s give it a little more time. If we don’t hear from them soon, we’ll start tracking them down.”

I nodded, but the knot in my stomach wasn’t going anywhere. Something was wrong—I could feel it. And I couldn’t shake the thought that whatever Y/N and Amaro had gone after, they were in way over their heads.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

The air down here was suffocating, thick with the stench of mildew and something far worse I didn’t want to identify. My flashlight cut through the darkness, casting long shadows on the crumbling walls around us. Ahead, the tunnel forked into three paths, each one darker and more foreboding than the last. The labyrinth’s promise was clear: choose wisely or regret it.

Nick stood next to me, his flashlight aimed toward the middle path. His jaw was tight, his usual calm demeanor strained by the growing unease that matched my own. I could tell he didn’t like this any more than I did.

“So,” I said, trying to mask the anxiety creeping into my voice. “Which way do you think our mystery sadist wants us to go?”

Nick sighed, stepping forward to peer into the tunnels. “None of them, if he has his way. He’s probably banking on us wasting time or walking into a trap.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. It’s not like we’ve got much else to go on.”

He reached for his phone, his fingers moving quickly as he pulled up a map app. “Let’s see if we can make this easier. Maybe there’s an old city blueprint or something we can—” He stopped, frowning at the screen. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I glanced over his shoulder. The screen showed a single, dreaded message: No Service.

“Perfect,” I muttered, my frustration boiling over. “Because of course the psycho picked a spot with zero reception.”

Nick slid his phone back into his pocket, his shoulders tense. “We’re on our own here. No maps, no backup, no way out but forward.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting real tired of forward being such a bad option.” I swung my flashlight across the tunnels again, trying to make sense of the choice in front of us. The left path was narrower than the others, with streaks of something dark smeared along the walls. The middle one had standing water at the entrance, the faint ripple of movement suggesting something alive down there. The right path looked the most “normal,” if you could call it that, but the air felt heavier when I aimed the light toward it.

Nick stepped back beside me, studying the same paths. “We can’t just pick one and hope for the best. There’s got to be a clue, something we missed.”

I turned in a slow circle, scanning the walls and floor for anything—anything at all—that might point us in the right direction. My eyes caught on a faint marking near the base of the left tunnel, a symbol scratched into the concrete. A spiral.

“Hey, look at this,” I said, crouching down to get a closer view. “It’s the same symbol that was on the last clue. The one on the note.”

Nick knelt beside me, studying it. “You think it’s pointing us this way?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just another trick.” I glanced down the tunnel, the beam of my flashlight barely cutting through the gloom. My stomach churned at the thought of what might be waiting for us.

Nick stood, his voice firm. “We’ve got to make a call. If we wait too long, he’s going to start wondering why we’re not moving.”

I nodded, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Alright. Left it is. But if this spiral ends up leading us straight to whatever nightmare this guy’s cooked up…”

Nick gave me a grim smile. “Then we do what we always do—figure it out and fight our way through.”

I tried to take comfort in his steady presence, but as we stepped toward the left tunnel, my gut was screaming that this was exactly where he wanted us to go.

…

Sonny’s P.O.V

Five hours. Five hours since anyone had last spoken to Amaro or Y/N. I’d been staring at the board, trying to piece together what she might’ve seen. My coffee had gone cold hours ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Every clue, every detail—none of it was adding up, and it felt like the answers were just out of reach.

“They’ve been gone too long,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. My voice broke the silence in the bullpen, making everyone glance up. “What the hell did Y/N see?”

Finn, leaning against the edge of his desk, finally spoke up. “The only thing all the dead ends had in common? Each spot had an entrance to an old, unused sewer system. That’s all I got.”

I blinked, my mind racing as I turned back to the board. Sewers. I should’ve seen it earlier, but everything else—the dead ends, the letters, the missing teens—had been such a distraction.

Before I could say another word, Rafael stood abruptly, his face pale as if something had just clicked in his mind. “That’s where they are,” he said, his voice sharp with certainty. “The tunnels.”

Olivia straightened, her expression turning grim. “You’re sure?”

“Think about it,” Rafael said, gesturing to the clues on the board. “The guy keeps sending us to places connected to these tunnels. He’s been teasing this the whole time. If Y/N figured it out, and Amaro went with her…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “That’s where they are.”

I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, adrenaline kicking in. “Then we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

The bullpen came to life around me. Finn grabbed his coat, muttering something about knowing the nearest access point. Olivia called for patrol officers to stand by in case we needed backup. Rafael looked like he was trying to keep his calm, but I could see the tension in his hands as he adjusted his tie.

“Alright,” Olivia said, her voice steady but firm. “We stick together. If they’re down there, we find them and bring them out.”

I nodded, clutching my phone tightly as we headed for the door. Every step out of the precinct felt like it took too long, but the thought of Y/N and Amaro down in those tunnels kept me moving.

I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut, the one that had been eating at me since I woke up. They were in trouble—real trouble—and if we didn’t find them soon… I didn’t want to think about what might happen.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

My legs ached, and my back wasn’t doing much better, but the adrenaline kept me moving. The tunnel seemed endless, the walls closing in more with every step. Nick and I had been at this for what felt like hours, shining our flashlights into every crack, crevice, and too-small offshoot we passed. Each one was a dead end. We’d check, just in case, but nothing. No teens. No way out. Just more darkness and the echo of our footsteps.

The tunnel finally widened ahead, revealing another fork—this time, two paths stretched into the gloom, one veering left, the other right. I stopped, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, and turned to Nick. “Well, here we go again. Left or right?”

He didn’t answer immediately, scanning the floor and walls like he was trying to read the mind of the psycho who’d set this up. I joined him, squatting down to inspect the ground for any markings, scuffs, or clues that might point us in the right direction.

That’s when I saw it. A faint scrape on the floor to the right, almost like something heavy had been dragged through. My stomach sank as I followed it with my flashlight, the beam catching on a glimmer of something small and metallic further down.

Nick was already moving to grab it, crouching down to examine it. When he stood, his expression was grim. He held up a bracelet—one of those cheap charm ones you find at gift shops. A tiny heart charm dangled from it, the kind a teenager might wear.

“This has to belong to one of them,” he said, his voice low. “The missing kids.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me. The right path wasn’t just another tunnel—it was leading us to one of them. Maybe alive. Maybe not.

But then there was the left path, dark and foreboding, with no clues at all. The logical part of my brain screamed at me that it had to be the way out, the next step in the sick game we’d been pulled into.

Nick’s voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. “So, what’s it going to be? Do we keep looking for a way out, or do we go after the kid?”

My heart pounded in my chest as I looked between the two tunnels. Left meant survival, maybe a chance to regroup and call for backup. Right meant walking headfirst into who-knew-what—probably a trap—but also a chance to save someone.

I turned to Nick, my voice steadier than I felt. “If that bracelet’s theirs, we can’t just walk away. We go right.”

Nick studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But if this is another dead end, we’re turning around and finding a way out.”

“Deal.”

With one last glance down the left path, I turned toward the right, gripping my flashlight tighter as we stepped into the unknown.

…

Rafael’s P.O.V

We reached the third entrance, and it was the same as the others. Locked. Rusted. Impenetrable. The padlock stared back at me like it was mocking me, its cold steel glinting under the faint streetlight. I clenched my fists, my chest tightening with frustration.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered under my breath.

Olivia moved to inspect the lock, her flashlight steady in her hand. “This one’s been sealed for years,” she said, her voice calm. Too calm. “We’ll call Finn, see if he’s had better luck.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure, the helplessness, the damned guilt—it boiled over. I slammed my fist into the door, the sharp clang reverberating down the empty street. The pain in my knuckles was immediate, but I didn’t care.

“Rafael!” Olivia grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “What the hell are you doing?”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “This is my fault, Olivia. I should’ve stopped her. I shouldn’t have let her go chasing clues on her own, not even for a minute.”

“You didn’t ‘let her,’ Rafael,” she said firmly. “Y/N’s capable. She’s smart, and she’s with Amaro. She’ll be fine.”

The mention of Amaro made me tense involuntarily, and Olivia noticed. She always noticed. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then she tilted her head, her tone softer but pointed. “This isn’t just about her being out there, is it? Why are you so worried about Y/N?”

I looked away, staring at the graffiti-covered wall beside the door, trying to will my emotions back under control. But it was no use. The truth had been clawing its way to the surface for months now, and there was no hiding it anymore.

“You care about her,” Olivia said, more an observation than a question. “No, it’s more than that. You’re in love with her.”

The words hung in the air between us, undeniable and suffocating. I ran a hand over my face, letting out a bitter laugh. “Does it matter, Liv? She doesn’t know. I never told her. And now—” My voice caught, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

Olivia’s expression softened, her voice gentle but insistent. “You’re going to tell her. When we find her, Rafael, you’re going to tell her how you feel.”

I shook my head, the thought of it almost laughable. “What if we’re too late? What if—”

“No,” she cut me off, her tone firm. “We’re going to find them. Y/N and Amaro are out there, and they’re alive. You don’t get to give up on them, and you don’t get to give up on this. On her.”

I looked at her, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “And what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Olivia’s smile was small but knowing. “You’re smarter than that, Rafael. You know she does.”

I stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. She wasn’t just saying it to reassure me—she meant it. And for the first time in hours, a spark of hope flickered to life inside me.

“Alright,” I said quietly, the promise forming in my mind before I could stop it. “When we find her, I’ll tell her.”

Olivia nodded, her hand briefly squeezing my shoulder before she stepped back toward the car. “Good. Now, let’s go find another entrance. We’re not stopping until we get them out of there.”

I followed her, the determination in her voice pulling me forward. No matter how many locked doors stood in our way, I wouldn’t stop. Not until I saw Y/N again—and told her everything.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight

[therealslimshakespeare]

ok yall be honest, of these two couples, who’s kinkier? And I don’t mean who has the more fulfilling sex, that’s to each their own and vanilla is just fine for many. it’s what they need and thrive off. but I got my headcanons and I wanna hear yours

omg girl give us the headcanons

Ok darling(s) I’m all too eager tbh. 😆 and these are just preliminary and maybe not fully canon thots so far.

First off, this ASK from earlier contains more headcanons and screams.

Jack x Tilly Headcanons (mostly 🌶️💋🔞)

warnings: these are smutty headcanons, mention of kids and Catholicism but in a fluffy context, brief breast milk mention, brief and vague SA trauma reference

•Jack is an atrocious snuggler. Actually that is wrong, he is a great one if snuggling is the Olympic sport of the moment, no one snuggles harder than this man. An odd thing to many since he is so reserved and somewhat deterring of affection in the day to day and he’s all elbows and knees. But when it comes to his woman at night or on the couch he is on her like a duck on a junebug, and that’s the order of things! Him on her. He finds a way to wrap around her somehow no matter what and to lay his head on some soft part of her. Tilly loves it as somehow she feels both comforting and kept all at once, it satisfies her energy and impulses both ways. And if he’s not doing it she immediately knows something is quite terrible up in his headspace. This has nothing to do with sex, sometimes it leads to it but often it doesn’t. Which others might find odd for how intense it is. Shhh let them be

•Jack is also a very intense kisser. He can be giggly about it, especially if drunk, but most times he’s very intense to the point of not being everyone’s cup of tea. But tbh, there’s more gentle dominance in his kisses than most men calling themselves daddy out there. His kisses age him -in a very nice way. Tilly melts into a puddle of goo -don’t believe me? Check between her legs. Actually don’t that’s Jack’s job and he’s a jealous fucker

•he’s a jaw cradler, and not from the side, he often cups it from under and it’s unintentionally giving some throat action. Or maybe it is intentional. But he’s not out there choking her (I don’t think unless she asks???) but he is a very intense jaw cradler with those fucking beautiful hands. Sometimes it feels like he’s *taking* his kisses and Tilly goes weak kneed for it. I take no criticism

•he’s a very subtle, gentle braggart about his wife. Not about his Casanova skills, no, but about his wifey. But he’ll say it and most times, it’s so wry or subtle that only five to ten minutes later will his buddies jerk and realize he just dropped some filthy sex anecdotes right there

•these two have sex a lot. they will sneak that shit in. and with all their kids it has to be snuck and often has to be quick and the eye fucking foreplay of these two throughout their day is actually a very intricate and intentional thing so when they snap and disappear for a minute or five, when the kids are riding bikes in the neighborhood and Jack has her agaisnt the fridge or when they’ve finally got themselves to an adult Christmas party where the music is loud and the powder room empty —don’t make the mistake of thinking it was all impulse. It was, but it was brewed for hours if not days before until they snapped and collided.

•with something so rushed and spur of the minute, Johnny often worries his baby is getting her fix. And the idea of her not is awful, the idea of him getting his but she not getting hers is outright anathema to him. Good thing those fingers (and Bucky’s tips, yes thanks Egan you can shush now) and that tongue are wickedly smart. If Benny is a wonder of slow savoring, John Brady is a buzzing brand held right to her until Tilly is coming a mere fifteen seconds after thinking it wasn't to be.

•Tilly is usually the one begging “harder” but Sweet Jesus he delivers. Doesn’t mean it’s not loving but holy shit there are hip bruises and the sound of him smacking off her lush backside is enough to send him dizzy and get them reported for having a pile driver in the living room

•Jack is a munch, as my fellow anons have agreed, and this man likes it best when she is sat on his face. It’s the thighs around his face, the view upwards and the suffocation and the way she’s able to grind down so well when it feels good and tug his hair and he just goes to another world that way. Only time this man de-stresses tbh

•But he’ll go down anywhere. And he’d rather do it before these rushed quickies spoken of above but Tilly loves the pummeling friction first and then a quick few smooches and swipes of his tongue down there and she’s gushing. So he complies, if that’s how his missus wants it, she gets it.

•which is rather a maxim for Brady life, not just sex. But this woman is the one bringing up some wild shit to this man and he rolls with it, happily. Sometimes she’s just already positioned or dressed for it when he comes home or comes back into the room after putting the kids down and he’s gives an absolutely wry and sardonic greeting followed by the noise of his belt jangling loose followed by the most heated kiss you ever did see.

•“You look nice.” he’ll compliment her respectfully when she’s in the most debauched accouterments.

•Can’t wait, gotta have you, be good for me” he’ll say when she’s prim as any other Catholic housewife in her dress still crinkled from kneeling in mass

•the Catholic dichotomy drives Tilly nuts (note, author may be projecting)

•i think this man has a raging praise kink, and Tilly is downright ready to feed it. Has little choice, she says what she thinks and is very vocal in all aspects of life and he makes her go to heaven and back and she is gonna narrate the trip. That’s how she is and he’s a moaning mess for it

•But it’s in a primarily “you make me feel so good, I love you so much, how are you so good at that?” sorta way. She keeps one other way tucked away for very special occasions when the mood is right

•it’s got to be just right tho. not that a bomb will go off if it’s not, he’ll just sorta look at her like “thanks babe, you’re silly tho” if she times it wrong. If she times it right?! Times it right and all she’s gotta do is call him boy and he shakes and hardens into an absolute mess. He’s gotta be pretty far goners when she plays that card, but if he is, he loses it. “That’s it sweet boy, you’re my pretty boy, so good to me darling boy, hold on for me a little longer sweet boy, you’re my boy aren’t you?”

•with Tilly being so lush and warm and free and easy, I am gonna be bold and admit this couple 100% lets that man suck her titties -even when she’s got milk in them. It’s no age regression thing at all, it’s not “mommy kink” either, in fact, it's simply the man who made her a mother helping her out when she’s swollen and hurting, or else, savoring the changes he made to her body. As a man. And it’s just something soft and sweet to indulge in. And Tilly does have the most incredible rack ever so there’s that as well.

•is there a small breeding kink or is he just Catholic and does she enjoy the faces he makes and the hot splash of him when he cums inside? who knows tbh

•Jack has to be facing her. Or at least for years. He’s gotta be facing her or else a mirror and they learned this the hard way, otherwise his trauma will literally teleport him elsewhere and shut him down and it’s the most horrible thing has ever witnessed

•also for very a long time he wasn’t just unable to bear things being done to him like a blow job, but truly it fucking sent him as well. A remedy for this was found to be his enjoyment of oral for her or else full in sex or, with care and time, mutually giving. He just can’t lay there and enjoy being serviced, it’s not him being too stressed or picky, he legitimately is traumatized by it. So, god bless 69 even if Still thinks she’s trash at it because he’s so good at what he does on his end that after the first two minutes she is usually so blissed out she just holds his cock and moans on it instead actually doing much of anything close to blowing him

•there are some other stalag trauma related triggers and helps and tastes that we’ll revisit later once more of that it out in public consumption but there’s that for now I think. This was SUCH fun

[quietblueriver]

fingers crossed for your writing! prompt for you: mask

Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt and the crossed fingers. Very happy to be writing Avatrice again. Here’s a short, soft thing and a play on both mask and masc that’s hopefully not too far off the mark. 💜💜💜

Ava leans against the doorway and watches as Beatrice stares at a black t-shirt that she assumes came from the basket of clean clothes beside the bed, lips pulled down at the corners, a few locks of newly shorn hair falling over her forehead with the angle. Ava wants to tuck it back, run her own thumbs over the buzzed sides in that way that makes Beatrice close her eyes and breathe a little deeper.

“Hey,” she says more quietly than she normally would, smiling gently as Bea’s attention snaps to her, body visibly tightening in the moment it takes for her to assess Ava’s threat level. Once a soldier and all that.

“Sorry to surprise you.” She sticks out a socked foot and wiggles it, thick pink and purple stripes on display. “Got a comfy assist with my stealth game. Camila was not joking with this yarn.”

The tension leaves Bea’s body as she lifts her left leg from where it hangs over the side of the bed to wiggle back with her own pair, a more muted blue and gray sticking out from the bottom of gray sweatpants. She doesn’t say anything, but she puts the shirt down and shifts on the bed, tucking socked feet criss-cross underneath her knees and creating a space that Ava fills happily, crossing her own legs so that their thighs are pressed together.

“You good?”

“Yes,” Beatrice offers quickly before she catches herself, shrugging a shoulder at Ava with a small smile. “Mostly,” she amends, and Ava indulges her earlier impulse and presses Bea’s hair back from her forehead before running her thumb over the clipped hair just above her ear. As she’d hoped, she gets fluttering eyes and a content sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Brown eyes blink open and she runs a hand through her hair before turning her head to face the mirror that hangs from their closet door. Ava’s eyes follow, and they meet in the glass, Ava leaning over to rest her chin on Bea’s shoulder.

“‘Sup, handsome?” Her breath tickles Bea’s cheek and she rolls her eyes even as she smiles that smile she saves for Ava, a little bit of pink in her cheeks.

Her eyes drift and Ava presses a kiss to her cheek before settling back and giving her some space.

“I look like my uncle.”

Ava stops fiddling with their duvet, brings her eyes slowly back to Beatrice in the mirror. She’s waiting for her, lips turned up just slightly and eyes soft, and she dips her head a little to let Ava know it’s okay to keep looking, to keep checking.

And she does, eyes tracking the movement of Bea’s chest and the twitch of her toes where they’re pressed under her knee, a flash of soft blue wool.

“Jacob. His name was Jacob. He was…” The shift in her expression as she searches for the words she needs brings her lips to a pout, but her tone isn’t sad or angry when she finds what she’s looking for. “I wanted very badly to be like him, when I was small. He laughed a lot, and he was very smart but he didn’t…he didn’t use it to make me feel small. He was silly with me, in a very intentional way. Always sought me out and asked me questions and told me jokes that…well, you would have liked them.” Ava sticks her tongue out at her and Bea looks a little proud and a lot fond. “Exactly. I didn’t know what to do with that, but I liked it.” She pulls at the silver chain around her neck, the ghost of a prayer. “He died when I was eight. A car accident. I think…looking back on his funeral and the people who were there, I think maybe he was…like me.” Her jaw clenches, determined, and Ava loves her as she says, voice firm, “Gay. I think he was gay.”

Ava moves a hand to the small of Bea’s back, and Bea puts a hand on her knee, skin warm through the fabric of Ava’s leggings.

“It…as far as I know it was a surprise to my father. Uncle Jacob always brought dates to the big Christmas party and to all of the family events, beautiful women that were funny like he was and talked to me like they cared what I had to say but also like I was still a child, like I was only expected to be a child. One of them snuck me extra cake when my mother wasn’t looking, but when she winked at me, suddenly I couldn’t eat anything else.”

She’s blushing a little, and Ava presses her lips to the cotton covering her shoulder, smiling into it.

“Uh-huh.”

The blush deepens, and Ava smothers the rest of her grin against Bea, grasping and squeezing at her forearm to encourage her to keep talking.

She does, smile dimming a little as she says, “They were there at the service, those women, but so were a lot of other people I’d never seen before, all in a big group together.” Her fingers move against the fabric of her sweats, tug at her black tee, the twin to the one discarded a few minutes ago. “They were in the back of the line to greet us, at the wake, and my father was so…” Fingers run with agitation through already mussed hair. “He was so rude to them, Ava. Gritting his teeth and saying nothing when they offered condolences and shaking hands hard enough that he made people wince. I went to the bathroom and heard two of them talking about how it wasn’t any wonder ‘Jay’ lived like he did. I’d never heard anyone call him Jay before, and I didn’t know what they meant, but I knew better than to ask my parents.”

She swallows and Ava covers the hand on her knee with her own, quiet because she’s not sure if Bea is finished and she is trying her very best these days to give Bea the same space that Bea gives her to say what she wants to say. Even if it makes Ava squirm with the desire to comfort, to fill the silence.

“We left the wake as soon as we could without it being socially unacceptable to the people my parents cared about. My father was so angry on the ride home that my mom was afraid to talk to him, and…” The shaky breath makes Ava so fiercely protective that the halo starts humming under her skin. “After he pulled me into the car, I made myself as small as I could. He went into his study and slammed the door when we got home. They never talked about Uncle Jacob again. It was like he died twice.”

“Bea.” Her hand moves to rest between shoulder blades, presses in in comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

Beatrice smiles at her in the mirror before breaking their connection to turn and kiss her. The angle is a little awkward, their bodies having twisted over the course of the conversation, so she moves to fix it, adjusting so her knees are pressed to Bea’s thigh and making her hands at home on the sides of her neck. When Beatrice pulls back, she backs herself against the headboard and lifts an arm, and Ava’s chest is tight with affection as she moves into the space and settles, hand gripping the front of Bea’s shirt a little possessively. They’ve had this now for months, this bed and this apartment and this time together without world-ending bullshit, but she’s still not used to the luxury of it, of open, unapologetic affection, of Bea’s heartbeat steady under her ear, of time stretching out instead of bearing down.

“It surprised me, when I looked into the mirror and saw him.” Her voice is quieter like this, and Ava feels her words as she says them, cheek pressed against her chest. “In a good way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Fingers run through her hair and Ava lets her eyes close. “I wish I could have known him. I wish he could have known me.”

Ava nods against her. “Me too. He sounds way better than the rest of your family, not that that’s a high bar.” The words slip out thoughtlessly but she doesn’t want to retract them. They’re past pretending Ava wouldn’t halo blast Bea’s parents into the nearest body of water on sight and mostly past Bea feeling guilty for wanting her to. “I’m sorry you didn’t have him for longer.”

“Mmm.” It’s a little absent. A beat. “I used to be a nun.”

Ava opens her eyes at that, pushes up a little to raise an eyebrow at Beatrice.

“Oh yeah? I didn’t know.”

Beatrice pokes her in the ribs and she giggles as she settles back down.

“Yes, thank you.” Her voice softens, quiets. “I understand him. Or I think I do. Why Uncle Jay lived the way that he did.”

Ava splays her hand across Bea’s ribs.

“You used to be a nun.”

“Yes.” Lips touch her hairline. “I am glad that I’m not anymore.”

Ava presses her own lips against the body underneath her. “Me too.” She traces a pattern on Bea’s ribs. “I think he would be proud of you. Of who you are. Of how brave you are.”

Her body moves with Beatrice’s exhale. “I think he would have liked you.”

Ava pulls her chin up to rest against Bea’s sternum and grins her best roguish grin. “Well, I’m very charming.”

Her stomach swoops at the look Bea gives her, adoration undisguised and voice earnest. “Yes. You are. You’re wonderful.”

The kiss is short but sure, leaving Ava a little breathless. Affection thrums in her veins, and she pulls and pushes at Bea’s body until they’re reversed, Bea’s head pillowed on her chest and Ava’s fingers running through short hair, scratching at the nape of her neck. She runs her fingers under the silver chain and turns her head to watch their reflection. Bea’s eyes are closed, her breath slowing, and Ava takes the opportunity to look at her, sees for a moment Sister Beatrice as she was when Ava met her, ashamed and hiding so much of herself, desperately trying to be what everyone wanted and needed her to be.

Her heart breaks a little, for little Beatrice who became Sister Beatrice and for a man she never met. She blinks away the specters in the mirror and sees Bea again, soft and sleepy and brave, and presses a kiss of gratitude to her head.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

for the 5 sentence fic game - malex (Max/Alex), forgiveness? if it's not too out of ur depth :3

ok this was such a good prompt that i bust past 5 sentences and just kept going. so…here we go:

————

Forgiveness

a max/alex drabble, rated g

When Max meets Alex again, it’s a crisp autumn day — the kind where the leaves curl in on themselves, as if holding a secret. What secret, Max doesn’t know, but he has never really been in the habit of keeping many secrets.

The park is not where he expects to see Alex. But that’s the thing about parks. They’re a central nervous system for cities. City planners used to design with this in mind, before cars took over. Max remembers this fact from an encyclopaedia that he used to read, under blanket with a torchlight, when he still had the time to, during karting.

And now, Alex is in the park. Alex is older. Hair the same, if longer than it used to be in their F1 days. Face clean-shaven, but sharper in the cut of his jaw. Eyes, still creasing upwards when he sees a thing he likes.

As it turns out, Alex smiled a lot more when he left Red Bull. His smile practically a quantum force of its own when he finally won a GP.

And as it turns out, to his surprise, Max may be one of the things Alex also likes.

“Is that really you?” Alex exclaims, hands tucked in his pockets, wool scarf loose on his neck. Max feels somehow underdressed in his nondescript hoodie. Being a five time world champion, even over a decade later, meant people would stop you for photos.

“It’s me, mate.”

Alex makes a noise that seems like delight. They do the bro hug, and he animatedly explains that Lily is in Shanghai for a project involving augmented reality home golfing that is run through a mobile phone holoprojector. He rambles a little bit about weather — which for some reason the English still are obsessed with — and Alex asks whether Monaco has changed much (Max tells him it hasn’t).

“Are you heading up to Milton Keynes?” Alex says.

There is no loadedness behind the question. Max has only been back to Milton Keynes for Redline work since he retired.

One thing about Alex is that he was always carefully guarded when he needed to be. But Max never found him truly capable of ill intent.

“No,” Mad says. “I’m actually here because Pen has a thing about horses now. I have a break from touring stables and such.”

“Horses! Ah! There’s this great place down by Richmond, the owner’s an old classmate of mine. Let me pass it to you.”

Classic Alex. Always trying to help out, be nice, create a connection. So Max grabs his phone from his pocket, and lets Alex fuss around with it.

So the task is done, and there isn’t much to do now but move on. That is what Max has done well. Move on, in a way that he knows how, eking out a place for himself in Sim driver development and helping others learn the ropes. Much like Alex clearly has too, remaining as advisor to his last team.

Max finds himself reflecting on the younger men they were so long ago. Max was a lot more impulsive then. Quick to anger, a hunger inside him with so much to prove. But every person who did what they did always had the hunger. It just manifested in a lot of different ways.

And the interaction is nearing its end. But Max still can’t quite find a way to make his legs move. Around them, someone occasionally jogs past, and there are some ducks quacking happily at a nearby pond. It is peaceful.

Alex’s phone buzzes. He glances down at it, brows creasing in concern.

“Sorry, there’s some emergency at home involving my five year old and…” Alex squints at his phone. “A muffin tray of glitter. George is always far too lenient with his godson.”

Max smiles. “I heard about that. George, I mean. Not the glitter. I am not psychic.”

“That would explain your super-powered abilities, wouldn’t it?”

“Ha!” Max says, and he means it. “Anyway, I remember exactly how it is. That age.”

Alex smiles back knowingly.

The leaves rustle in the trees. The ducks are still quacking. The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, warming them both.

It is comfortable, in the way Alex always makes people feel, since the Williams years.

Max stops his leg from twitching.

“Listen, Alex. I never got a chance to say it before.”

“Say what?”

“That I…”

And Max finds himself pondering it. What does he mean? That he’s sorry? Sorry that a formula one team only truly ever has enough room for one person? That he should have asked how Alex was, like how he makes a point to do so now, with all his Redline youngsters? That he wishes he had called or texted him in the intervening years to see how he was, that he wishes they had stayed in touch? That he misses his old cars more than anything in the world, even if he’s happy with what he’s done and the way the puzzle pieces of his life have landed, and he always wonders if other drivers did too?

Max swallows a lump in his throat that he didn’t know was there. In the end, he says exactly what is on his mind.

“I’m really glad that you seem well.”

If that’s not the answer Alex was expecting, he doesn’t show it. He always seems borderline spiritual these days. As if he’s discovered a secret and invites you to understand it. A little bit like a monk, but one who definitely drives over the speed limit. (Max saw that video: a special karting one Alex did for family content, and he still carves a magnificent line.)

The monk in question smiles. It’s warm, like the sun. How lucky for those who grow close enough to Alex, to feel it.

And in that sage, still boyish way of his— surrounded by ducks, subjected to the inclement weather, in the artery of the place where worlds meet — Alex tells Max, back:

“I’m glad for us, too.”

————

from prompt thing here except i will actually try to stick to 5 sentences for the next one(s)

[roetrolls]

Reined In

“Are you out of your mind? Are you stupid? What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Benjin,” Veylin interjects softly, ineffectual plea glancing off you as Mallum stares you down.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” He shoots back, defensive. “I was doing you a favor!”

“A favor? What the fuck do you mean a favor!?”

“You were better off not knowing.”

“Better off?” You echo incredulously, heart hammering in your chest, The way it pounds against your ribs, you’re half convinced it wants to kick them out and go strangle the idiot itself.

“What good would it have done?”

“What- WHAT GOOD!? How about fucking safety, Mallum? How about not getting ambushed?”

“You wouldn’t–”

“I think we deserve a little fucking warning, Mallum!”

“You wouldn’t have been ambushed!” He shouts, fins flaring outward 

“Oh really? You know that? You can see the future now, Mal?”

“Fucking listen to me!”

“Oh, I’m listening! I’m all fucking ears! Go ahead, what vision did you have? Was it anything like his?” You cock your head at Zurven, tucked silently against Veylin’s hip at the edge of the room. 

You hate this. You hate acting like this, hate that they’re seeing you like this, but you can’t seem to quell the fury that roars inside your throat. The heat of it is enough to make your hands shake, and you clench them at your sides.

“I told Aderae–”

“Oh! Great! Aderae got to know before we did, I’m so glad! What a bond you two must have, sounds really beautiful.”

“Would you let me fucking finish!?” he snaps. “I told Aderae I saw them. You were safe.”

“Okay!? And what about you!?”

“What about me?”

“They have your fucking blood, Mallum! They have means to fucking track you, you don’t think we need to know that?”

“No! I don’t!”

“You don’t.”

“It didn’t concern you.”

“It’s fucking Harlan!”

“Yeah!?” Mallum throws his arms out in some semblance of a shrug, fixing you with a bewildered stare. “He’s not your problem, Ben! It’s not your job to save us from him!”

“He is my problem, Mallum! And I don’t expect you to fucking get it, but I thought you could at least use your fucking brain. This isn’t the kind of thing you keep from us. That’s not your choice to make.”

“Well maybe it should be!”

A dark cloud seems to descend over the room, over you, as the words leave his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” you ask, voice startlingly low in your own ears. 

The tension, thick and binding, constricts around your lungs. You flex an antsy fist in hopes of shaking it while Mallum watches you with expression unflinching, stone cold in his conviction that he has truly done nothing wrong. It sends another wave of anger crashing over you, searing and violent.

“You weren’t there,” you grit, uncomfortably aware of your own hands. You relax them just to clench your fists again, arms laden with an energy you don’t know how to dispel.

“That’s exactly why! None of you are going to be objective when–”

“This isn’t the fucking time to be objective! You put us in danger, Mallum, you put yourself in danger! Do you seriously not understand how fucked that is?”

“You were safe,” Mallum huffs again, his impatient indignation like a slap to your face. “I wasn’t worried.”

“Gosh, well in that case!” your sardonic tone is offset slightly by the volume of your voice. Try as you might, you can’t seem to lower it, locked into a shout that leaves your head pounding and your lungs pumping. “My bad, you guys, Mallum wasn’t worried! False alarm!”

“If you knew, you would never leave the hive again.”

“For good fucking reason!”

“I’m telling you, Benjin, it’s not a big deal!”

“YES IT IS!” you shriek, arms tensing as you are hit suddenly with the impulse to swing. A voice in the back of your head urges you to get your frustrations out, to strike the wall and allow the white-hot rage buzzing in your ears to pour through your arm into the world around you. You can almost feel it, like a phantom’s touch across your knuckles, aching, begging you to drive them into something with the full brunt of your emotion.

Your breath catches in your throat, anger all at once replaced with stark, overwhelming fear. That instinct isn’t yours. It shouldn’t be yours.

Chest heaving and head swirling, you take a small step back, eyes wide, then spin on your heel and storm from the room without a word.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

battle of the sexes

pairing: lo’ak x female omatikaya!reader

WC: 1.5K

warnings: dont think theres even cursing. completely clean, well, theres a bit of tension.

summary: always have to one up each other

A/N: could i have choosen a better title? absolutely. i got inspired by 1x04 of That 70′s Show where donna and eric play basketball at the end of the ep. idk just some mindless fun.

@alecmores my editor💗

been in the drafts since april 2

masterlist / lo’ak sully

it was a pleasant midday in the forest of pandora. the sun was blazing brightly and a cool, steady breeze would caress the leaves and flora, giving a melodic tune around you and lo’ak.

your feet were dipped in the crystal clear water of a nearby pond with a tiny stream. your back laid against the plush green grass, arms cushioning your head as you kept your eyes closed and enjoyed the peace. the twittering and humming of the fauna buzzed in your pointed ears making them twitch at every noise.

a touch on your ankles made you flinch and lift your head, elbows pushing your upper body into a half-sitting position. lo’ak’s head peeked over the surface, water lapping at his chin. his eyes shined with a gleam that pulled a lazy smile upon your lips, he always made you feel weightless. he smiled back as he swam closer to the shore.

he crossed his arms as they rested beside your thighs, his head lolling to the side as he stared up at you with a slight raise of his brows and the smile that still sat on his lips. his braids fell over his shoulders, the two with beads covered an eye as they always did. on impulse you leaned over and moved them away, your fingers dragging down lo’ak’s face that stopped at his chin before pulling away.

“we should get back to practicing.” you blurt out as you pull your legs out of the water and move to grab your bow.

“what? oh, come on!” “we have rested long enough, we must train to be mighty warriors for the people.”

with a popped hip you set your hand onto the skin while you hold your bow and arrows beside you. you took the eye roll the boy gave to your reply but watched as he pushed out the water, droplets sliding over his stomach and stripes. they caught your eyes and you were transfixed until a nudge to your shoulder snapped you away.

“see something you like?” his cocky tone made you feel warm but you just rolled your eyes before walking back to the training grounds. his laughter followed behind.

you re-entered the area where lo’ak set up targets to practice your shooting. you did some quick cleaning as you waited for lo’ak to catch up to you, when he was taking forever you decided to start on your own.

so you notched an arrow along the string and pulled with your fingers. you sucked a breath in, making sure your stomach was solid and your arms weren’t wavering. when the moment felt right you released the arrow and it flew straight into the bullseye. you smiled.

“wow! nice shot!” his voice came from above and you looked up into the trees.

he was perched on a low branch with his legs swinging in the air and his tail swaying behind him. his forearms sat on his thighs and he hunched over with his hair dancing in the wind.

“why don’t you come down and show me what you got? Since you’re always bragging.” you held your chin high.

you saw the shake of his head but couldn’t see the smile on his lips or how his eyes sparkled as he stared down at you. he gathered his bow and arrows, and jumped his way down to the forest floor with a muffled thump. he pushed his braids behind his ears before taking your spot.

“watch and learn, syulang (flower).” he said cockily and got into his stance.

you rolled your eyes but ignored the rapid beating of your heart as you watched lo’ak. not taking your eyes off him for a second and letting them wander as he was distracted. you watched how his muscles flexed and his back pulled taunt as he was in an aiming position. his tail skimmed the grass by his feet and his ears twitched now and then if one of the forest creatures cried out.

he stayed in the stance for a while and you were about to speak up just as he let the arrow fly and sink into the bark of the tree, just beside your arrow.

“not bad, not bad. but you were supposed to hit the middle dead on,” you pointed a finger at the arrows, “that is not dead on.”

he scuffed and pointed to said arrow, “sorry, but there seems to be an object in the way. someone forgot to take their arrow back.” he walked to the target and yanked both arrows out, and walked back, handing yours over.

“maybe we should work on some combat. i think our shooting is at its best right now.” you put your bow on the ground and spun to face lo’ak. his eyes just watched you.

“lo’ak? are you fine with combat?” a step forward and he snapped out of his trance.

“y-yeah. combat is fine. but i won’t go easy on you.” he smiled and his fangs poked out. it made your tail waggle.

“wouldn’t be practicing if you went easy on me.” you crouched into a defensive position. the right arm pulled back with your left hand touching the ground. your tail swung low to the grass, shifting over the blades. your ears stood at attention and you watched lo’ak get in a similar position.

it was quiet for a few minutes, both of you waiting to see who would make the first move. when the silence stretches on too long, you get closer to lo’ak and hissed deeply with your fangs showing dominance. he looked thrown off by the display, but it vanished fast and he hissed back and lunged at you.

you rolled out of the way and kept your eyes firmly on his creeping form. your eyes roamed over his body to look for any points of weakness that would allow you to attack. his eyes didn’t look to be fully in the moment, his mind elsewhere and you took advantage. you pounced at the boy, hands latching onto his biceps and throwing him to the ground. the two of you tumbled in the grass and rolled to a stop with you straddling lo’ak and pinning his wrist to the ground.

“that was an easy win. i thought you weren’t going easy on me, syulang?” a smug smile on your face as you let your eyes bounce over lo’ak’s motionless features. your loose hair fell over your shoulders and formed a curtain, hiding your face from outsiders.

he didn’t fight against you or scuff or roll his eyes. he was a blank wall with his eyes following you. you tilted your head, smile slipping. you leaned in closer and peered into his eyes, his widened and you heard the sharp intake of breath.

“did- did i hurt you?” you let up on his wrists, moving back to give him space to breathe.

lo’ak started to shift a bit and you moved your hands from his wrist to sitting on the ground beside his armpits to keep you up. he moved his arms and then pushed himself to his forearms, upper body meeting you halfway.

you stared into each other’s eyes, lo’ak’s golden orbs hypnotizing you into a calm energy. you were so hypnotized that the smirk on his face went ignored by you and the feeling of his legs wrapping around your waist forced you to move off his lap, positions switched. lo’ak straddles you while pinning your wrist down. open mouth and wide-eyed, you were stunned into silence.

“gotcha, paskalin (honey)” lo’ak’s smirk never left his face.

you huffed a laugh, feather top shifting with your breaths. lo’ak’s braids swung in the air, his beads hitting each other as he tilted his head from side to side. you wouldn’t catch his eyes, knowing the heat from his touch would further spread to your face to the tips of your pointed ears.

“wanna go another round?” you heard the smile in his words as the warmth turned to a fire. “uh… uh…” your tail moved off the ground and the furred tip grazed over lo’ak’s leg.

when you made eye contact with the boy still over you, it was like you both could read what the other was thinking. how the sunlight peeking through the leaves shined on them and they were glowing, their eyes staring at each spot on their face making sure to memorize their details. how just a simple touch of skin-to-skin contact makes their heart race quickly. how they so desperately wish to move in closer, breath skating over lips and wishing to know the feeling-

you abruptly pushed lo’ak in the chest when he moved his hands away. he fell to the floor beside you and you quickly jumped off the grass and walked away. you shook your head free of any thoughts coming to fruition, hair tickling your back.

“hey,” his voice made you jump but you turned to him, “you okay? i didn’t hurt you or anything?” his hands reached out for you. his fingers a gentle caress on your cheek.

your eyes softened at the simple touch, “yes. everything is fine. i just- i just got tired suddenly.” a shaky sigh.

his eyes just studied you for a minute or two before nodding his head and picking up the bows and arrows. he handed over yours and the both of you headed back towards home. neither of you spoke up about those moments during combat training.

...

[grumpybunny-edith]

Gwen's Bunny HRT - Month 1 (Part 2)

I learned this trick a little while ago for smiling at the camera: just think about something that makes you laugh. I didn’t have to work very hard to find something - everything Rae had just said had left me smiling maybe too much. I turn on my camera, turn my head to show off my ever-so-slightly longer ear, and make it a point to let my teeth sit on my lip, even as my first impulse was to hide them. 

Opening the chat, I saw the last thing sent — it was a selfie from Delilah, her cheeks and chin covered in long, grayish-black fur. 

thebuildingisonfire: Decided not to shave for the last couple days. Feels good. 🔥

It looks good too. Combined with the changes to her face shape giving her more of a snout, she’s starting to look more like Rae and Ashley than Edith and I. If that’s even a rational comparison to begin with. I do my best to stop comparing myself to my friends (again) and start typing.

wen-kutesuli: Hey everyone! Rae reminded me today was my one month, so... Here’s a quick update! It looks like it got to my teeth first, which... Is what it is, but my ears started getting longer recently too! No fur or anything yet, but. Big things 🥳

Rae is quick to jump on things, responding again almost instantly. 

raeraebun: YAAAAA THAT’S MY GIRLLLLLLLL you look so good!! The first half an inch of so many more :DDD 

grumpybunny-edith: !!! That’s huge! Starting with teeth must be tough :( how’s the pain been 

wen-kutesuli: It’s been... manageable? grumpybunny-edith: oof. Good luck lol  pink-lightning: Edith, don’t. That’s wonderful news, Gwen 🩷

I can’t help but wonder what Edith meant by that. It hadn’t been easy for the last couple weeks — as it turns out, growing your teeth is at best super uncomfortable — but it had been bearable as long as I didn’t forget my painkillers. Is she just trying to scare me? Is it gonna get way worse? Or does she just have an embarrassingly low tolerance for pain? 

pink-lightning: You look happy.  pink-lightning: Have you ever sent a picture smiling before? 

I scroll up to look at the picture again at Ashley’s statement. I’m a little surprised at how much I’m smiling; I hadn’t even noticed when I took it. I’m also surprised that she’d notice something as small as how often someone smiles in pictures. I make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassment creep up about it — is it not normal to feel a little bit weird about a smile? I do my best to hide my feelings.

wen-kutesuli: I guess not lol I didn’t notice! raeraebun: You NEED to do it more. you look SO CUTEE grumpybunny-edith: fr. depriving us of that shit should count as a crime tbh  thebuildingisonfire: okay but like. Be gay do crime  raeraebun: not this crimee raeraebun: we love following the law in this specific moment grumpybunny-edith: Yeah this crime is like. Stealing from a small business  thebuildingisonfire: just on principle, omfg =_=

The chat stops for a few minutes. I’m too giddy to care much about it, pacing my room on my toes and going fast enough to feel the wind in my ears. Of course they’re happy for me, why wouldn’t they be? Their pride... kinda becomes my own. I keep jumping around, catching glimpses of myself in my mirror, and it makes me so happy. The light from outside shines through my ears like a tulle curtain, making them shine. I don’t even have to imagine I have a tail to feel this giddy about it all. I put on my favorite KKB album and hop around my carpeted floors, enjoying the simple joy of having a body becoming more like what it’s supposed to be. 

I don’t notice the next message until several minutes later, the buzzing of my phone muted by the carpet. I prance back to it only intending to play a song over again. 

thebuildingisonfire: dealing w any like, behavioral stuff? Or are we still waiting on that lol  raeraebun: I didnt realize you were taking over scheduling the sleepover, del xD thebuildingisonfire: oh no definitely not that’s still your job lmaooo thebuildingisonfire: just curious I swear

I keep hopping around my room as I try to come up with an answer. I don’t feel anything like what the information outlined, and definitely nothing that would warrant one of those sleepovers they’re always talking about. My feet are a little bit sore from all the moving, but I still have more energy to get out, so I type and jog at the same time. 

wen-kutesuli: I don’t think I’ve gotten any yet?  grumpybunny-edith: Oh my god Delilah you can’t just ask someone how horny they are pink-lightning: Yeah. Obviously that’s Edith’s job.

I drop my phone. I don’t pick it up. I’ve stopped in my tracks. Of course I know what’s coming, but it’s hard to believe it’ll happen to me. Sure it’s exciting, but I haven’t exactly had all that many... you know. It’s just hard to think about as something real, let alone something happening so soon. And, just, logistically it all seems pretty inconvenient; “Missing work for sex so often you get fired for it” seems more Delilah’s speed than it does mine, and I’m not sure I want to find out whether or not that’s correct. I shift my feet in the carpet nervously, feeling the tiny fibers through my soles. I press up onto the balls of my feet, trying to adjust to the way my feet are going to move within the next year. When I move to join my phone on the floor I push my heels down first, sitting down like a rabbit is supposed to. 

raeraebun: its not that unreasonable yall, “behavioral stuff” doesnt have to mean horny  raeraebun: its just cool to know the drugs work and that youre happy w them gwen :))  pink-lightning: And if you’re not, you can always let us know. We don’t want anyone having to go through that kind of thing alone.  grumpybunny-edith: That’s kinda the whole reason this chat exists, lol  grumpybunny-edith: Also, that’s what she said. 

I giggle for the amount of time it takes to understand what Edith meant, at which point I’m overrun with blush. I can barely fathom the idea of one of them actually wanting to... Well. “Help me” with that kind of thing. I’m well aware they do it with each other, I’ve just never been that type before? It’s like being in line for a rollercoaster you have no knowledge of beyond being able to hear the things people say once they’ve gotten off. 

pink-lightning: Seriously. I know we all only just met you in the grand scheme of things, but we are here to help in whatever capacity you want. I’m trying to build the space I would’ve needed when I was in your shoes. If there’s anything you need to talk about, please let us know. Even if it feels kinda weird.

raeraebun: absolutely!! We’re here for ya bestie <333

Ashley is so sincere it almost makes me anxious. I walk across the room, heels sinking into the carpet, and pull the packet the doctor gave me out of my desk drawer. I sit on the floor with it. 

“Descent into sexual depravity” “Unavoidable, frequent joint pain that will last for years”

“ near-constant sex drive which interferes with life at nearly every turn” 

“Irreversible”

“Loss of self”

I throw the packet to the side, my lower back numb like something was trying to burrow out of it, thrashing viciously from side to side. 

I open the chat again, staring at Ashley’s message with my phone in my hairless hands. My nails are short and fragile, not clicking against the screen as I type. 

wen-kutesuli: I’m gonna be okay, right?  grumpybunny-edith: You’re gonna be just fine 💙 pink-lightning: Absolutely. And whenever it’s not, let us know.  thebuildingisonfire: we got you  raeraebun: totally!!!

I look between my screen and the discarded packet. I feel wide awake in the sunset but crawl into bed anyway, finding comfort in the blankets over my head. I really, really consider asking for some company, but I’m not sure how much I want to be seen right now.

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Prev - Next

[meaningful-negativity]

Asriel’s eyes flashed with something dark, a sharp glint of impatience. His lips curled into a half-smile—nothing kind or playful about it—more a silent promise of something dangerous and inevitable. The moment stretched for a heartbeat, the air thick with unspoken tension.

He didn’t hesitate. In fact, he barely even blinked as he met the other vampire’s gaze. His voice came low, laced with an almost dangerous calm, but beneath it, there was the unmistakable weight of impulse. ❝I’m gonna do it,❞ he said, each word clipped, deliberate. His fingers flexed slightly, restless, like a wolf circling its prey. ❝Why waste time talking when there’s nothing left to say?❞

Asriel’s gaze never wavered. The hunger in him—a primal urge—buzzed in his veins, and for a moment, the restraint snapped like a brittle twig underfoot. His stance shifted, predatory, his body coiling as though ready to pounce. His lips parted, revealing a flash of sharp fangs, but it wasn’t just the thirst for blood that called to him. It was the thrill of the chase, the rush of doing something now, without hesitation, without second-guessing.

He took a step forward, eyes narrowing slightly, daring the other vampire to stand in his way. There was no fear in him. No uncertainty. Just the rush of decision made in an instant, as if the only thing that mattered was the next move. ❝Keep talking,❞ he added, a growl slipping beneath his words. ❝I’ll be too busy feeding.❞

Aston moves away from the man behind him then, holding his hands up in the air and with a shake of his head "Sorry man but he will come through me to get you and I don't feel like dying out here tonight after surviving hunters for so long. I would start running right about now, it won't help and will probably make him angry but I'd take off anyway." He looks back to Asriel and gestures to the guy with a shrug "He's all yours just don't make a fucking mess eating him yeah? There's people still roaming around." Aston goes silent as he listens for footsteps or anything that might tell him someone was coming.

"I would go and find a meal of my own but mines waiting at home in my fridge so I guess I'll feed when I get home. Now lets get this over with so that I can do something with the rest of my night and you can go on your way to do whatever the fuck you were doing before I stumbled upon you and this whole unpleasant situation." Aston sighs moving to the other side of the alleyway and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. This whole situation making him very uncomfortable, reminding him of the night he was changed forever. He looks at the other vampire with sadness.

"There are a lot of things that could be said about feeding on people but I don't think you want to hear my views on it because I'm a little biased where that comes in. You see my sire just left me to fend for myself after the change so the first few times I hunted the only thing I did was rip people's throats out and I didn't like it all that much." He chuckles then, throwing his head back to look at the night sky "Then I discovered that blood came in nice bags and that animal blood wasn't half bad either." Aston shrugs and cocks an eyebrow at Asriel, gesturing to the man on the ground "I'd take him before he gets up it'll be easier and you won't have to work to hard for your dinner."

@asrielbelacquaaaa