#my city now (glues him to the floor

[dreadark]

kim dokja comes back at the end because you the reader are a kdj fragment who wants him to have a happy ending—

wrong. he comes back because I the reader am dragging him back there kicking and screaming so he can finally face his crimes. look your companions in the eyes kim dokja there’s no apocalypse to distract them now!!!

[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[little-annie]

It's in the kitchen of their shitty little 1.5 bedroom apartment that Eddie Munson continues to bemoan his roommates request for him to watch the 2024 Olympic Games with her this evening.

“Christine Henrietta Cunningham,” he starts with a sigh, wiping the reminentes of yet another YooHoo from his upper lip, leaning a narrow hip against the countertop's edge, “there is no way in hell you are getting me to watch the Olympics.”

Already wearing her team USA sweater, Chrissy tries to protest. Just as she did last night and the night before. For some reason thinking it's such a dire thing that Eddie watches the Olympics this year.

“First of all, not my middle name. Second-”

“You would literally have to glue my eyeballs open.”

“Second-” she tries again, voice stern, pointing a yellowed spoon in Eddie's direction as she dishes up a bowl of Kraft Dinner for them both.

“There is not now, nor will there ever be, any reason for me to watch juiced up jocks prance around and play any form of sportsball.”

There's so many reasons. Christ. Fuck. So many. But he's not telling Chrissy that. He'll watch the reruns when she's not home. He couldn't possibly be caught dead after last time.

“What about the swim-”

“Not even Gandalf himself,” Eddie interrupts, “-could convince me to waste my precious campaign planning time on such a thing.”

Following Chrissy to the living room, bowl of macaroni in hand, Eddie refuses to sit down next to her on the couch. He's not going to watch. Nope. Maybe sneak a peak in passing? Sure. But not watch. Are you kidding me?

“What a about To-”

The metal spoon that was once in Eddie's hand chatters to the floor as he mock gasps. Neon yellow noodles on the tile that the cat comes running over to clean up, Eddie stands in abject horror. She wouldn't dare.

“Don't you dare say what I think you're about to say, Christine. My 2020 not obsession with Tom Daley shan't be spoken of. It was merely a blip in the system. A glitch in the matrix.”

He still thinks Tom Daley can get it. But that's neither here nor there. And what is there, is simply between Eddie and the well used bottle of lotion next to his bed.

Chrissy rolls her eyes, now sitting with her legs crossed on their ugly ass thrifted couch, patting the cushion next to her as if Eddie's a dog. “Eddie you literally watched every one of his ra-”

Races?

“I did not.”

Okay maybe we wanted to. Who wouldn't? But it's not like he obsessively watched every one of the man's races.

“... I missed two.” He admits Inna whisper.

And what a sheer travesty that'd had been

“Oh yeah. You missed two. Oh Edward, how could I forget?” After patting the cushion mindlessly next to her again and eating a spoonful of macaroni she faux whines, “‘Oh Chrissy, would you record the race for me? I don't want to miss it.’”

He doesn't sound like that.

“I do not sound lik-”

All pathetic and whiney? Eddie Munson doesn't sound like that.

“As if I would believe you actually gave two shits about the races you giant homo.” Chrissy rolls her eyes so hard Eddie's surprised she doesn't hurt her neck, “You just liked seeing those boys in spandex.”

Well…. She's not wrong. Sports are dumb. People playing sports for money is dumb. What the Olympics does to those cities in the aftermath of the event is dumb.

But she's not wrong.

Spandex

“…. I hate you”

“No you don't.” She smiles, blowing Eddie a kiss.

“Um. Yes I do.”

As if he could ever hate Chrissy.

Avoiding making eye contact with her as she continues to pat the cushion next to her and turning heel towards the hall, Eddie decides maybe it's just best to eat his supper in his room. Away from jockey spandex and its temptations, “Anyways. As I was saying. Fuck you and your jocky hobbies Chrissy.” Eddie yells from the hall, “My time is far too valuable to be wasted mindlessly drooling over arrogant jocks and their-”

In a sing-songy voice Eddie hears Chrissy call from behind him, “You're gonna want to watch this!”

He groans, turning back around from the journey he'd just started in the direction of his room, “I would rather di-” only to be caught short when a familiar mole dotted, spandex covered ass makes its way across his TV screen.

He'd recognize that ass anywhere.

Went to every goddamn swim meet at the stupid community pool to see that beautiful ass in motion for years.

He fawned over it in the halls of Hawkins High.

Drooled over it on the odd days he actually attended gym class. Tried to solely avoid eye contact with it when he found it bare and within reach in the change rooms only an hour later.

Fuck.

Eddie's knees feel weak and before he knows it he's climbing over the back of the couch, bowl of macaroni in his lap and mirroring Chrissy's position. Legs crossed. Eyes glued to the TV. Mindlessly eating chemicals that some big corporation somehow manages to pass off as macaroni and cheese.

“Is that Steve Harrington?”

Oh look at those moles.

Beautiful.

Those pecs?

Fucking hell.

“Christine!?” Eddie screeches from his position on the couch when Chrissy doesn't answer, just simply shrugs and smirks at him. The little devil. “Did I just see Harrington?”

“Told you, you'd want to see this.”

[alwaysforevermaybenever]

YANDERE FARMER BOY: INTRODUCTION

× cw: general yandere stuff; getting lost; large families; implied scary relative; stalking; manipulation; murder; cannibalism

× note: kenji my beloved

⌗ A country bumpkin who just moved to the big city with his father, mother, four sisters, three brothers, grandparents, other grandparents, uncle, aunt, six cousins, dog, cats and cow. His family isn’t big at all, it’s normal sized! Your family is just pretty small, you know?

⌗ He was lost, wandering in the busy streets when you found him. He looked so pitiful and innocent: who in their right mind wouldn’t stop to help him? In the end, you directed him back to the apartment block he lived in with his family. (They brought up the entire floor.)

⌗ His family was so thankful they gave you their home grown watermelons - they’re super delish, and completely natural, unlike those supermarket fruits with nasty preservatives. 

⌗ From then on, you keep seeing this farmer boy everywhere! The park, the mall, the shopping centre, even in your neighbourhood! He must have a terrible sense of direction, huh? Either that, or he’s stalking you. 

⌗ But that can’t be it! Who’d think that? He’s a sweet summer child, with not a single mean bone in his body. Sure, he may be a little naïve, but he’s an honest and compassionate person. He treats everyone he meets with kindness and respect, and gains a lot of friends as a result. In fact, he’s already quite popular with the local community!

⌗ You think that after four months he’s pretty used to the city, but he still insists on you visiting him at his apartment - his siblings miss you! (So does he.) Everywhere you go, he’s right behind. You’re going to buy some groceries? What a coincidence: he’s been sent on some errands as well! Visiting the post office? He’s free right now, so he’ll accompany you!

⌗ If you ever try to excuse yourself from his clutches, he’ll attempt to guilt trip you into staying. His grandparents have been waiting to see you for a week already! His grandma even made your favourite snacks - won’t you visit? If that doesn’t work, he’ll resort to sticking to you like glue. It’s okay if you don’t know he’s there. He’s just protecting you, okay?

⌗ He loves to spend time with you, because you’re the person who noticed him and helped him! Everyone else ignored him because he looked poor, but you didn’t care about any of that! You’re such a blessing! He’ll be sure to treasure you forever and ever.

“Hehe, thanks so much, [Name]! You’re always so nice to me! I’ll be sure to repay you in every way I can.”

⌗ He may be from the country, but he’s no fool. He comes off as naïve, but that’s because he believes that he should only retaliate when the other person hits first. That way, it’s self defence!

⌗ Humans are scum. Of course, the only exception is his family and you, whom he loves with all his heart! He'll be overjoyed if you’d become part of his precious family too!

⌗ If anyone bothers you or even looks at you wrong, he’s already onto them. He may not be able to really read the room, but he still knows when someone holds hostile feelings or thoughts. After all, he knows plenty about hostility. The villagers were full of that hateful feeling when they drove out his family. That’s why they came to the city, y’know? But it’s not all bad; he met you!

⌗ Humans are like cows. They’re fat, and they make a lot of noise. They’re also quite dumb. Whenever a cow misbehaved in his old village, he would just give them a hearty slap. If that didn’t work, he’d knock them out. And if the cow continually made trouble, it became dinner’s beef. There are lots of similarities between cows and humans, actually!

⌗ Don’t worry if the beef patty tastes a little tough or gamey. Him and his mother assure you that it was just a really active cow. It mooed a lot, and ran around everywhere too! It was too bad the cow was getting too big, and too expensive to feed… Indeed, what a shame. 

⌗ His family can’t wait for you to move in with them! You practically sleep over with him everyday, why don’t you just stay there permanently? He’s a very (abnormally) strong boy, he can help you move all your things into an empty apartment! They have an empty unit anyway: it’s perfect for you to live in with him! 

⌗ His younger siblings are absolutely in love with you - each and everyone of his siblings claim that they’ll marry you when they grow up, but he’s quick to scoop you up in his arms and proclaim himself as your future husband! Wouldn’t that be a dream come through? Oh no, now the cousins are here too! They’re all clamouring for your hand in marriage! In the commotion, he whisks you away to kiss you feverishly (he’s jealous).

⌗ His parents live in the first unit with his youngest brother, and his brothers and sisters live in their respective apartment units. His uncle and auntie have their own apartment, as do his cousins and their two units. His grandparents have a unit, and his other grandparents have one too! With you and your lovely farmer boy sharing a unit, that makes nine units in total!

⌗ But wait, doesn’t this apartment complex have ten units per floor? As long as you don’t inquisitively ask about unit ten at the end of the hall, or the rotting stench that seems to waft from it, everything will be fine and dandy! You don’t need to know about the family’s extra beef stash.

“You make me super happy, [Name], and I’d love to spend the rest of our lives together. You’re always helping me, so I’ll make sure to repay that a thousand times over. Imma make you so happy, you’ll never wanna leave me!”

[hollowtakami]

FOR THE GREATER GOOD

CONTENT: heavy angst, hurt w/ no comfort, implied ptsd/anxiety attack, corrupt hpsc, references to child abuse, power imbalance + implied beatings

WORD COUNT: 1130

AUTHOR NOTE: this is a very heavy (vent) fic - please do not read if you know this will trigger you (will be tagging this as nsfw on my masterlist bcs of its content). be safe, remember that you’re loved.

REBLOGS/COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED :)

Keigo hunched down onto the sofa, his skin finally remembering what its fabric felt like. Sinking into the plushness of the cushions, the avian sighed.

His eyes closed before he could stare at the ceiling. Instead, he’d stare at the abyss inside of him for hours.

He could hear his own breathing. Laboured, short. His chest felt heavy, the blood that circulated his body, nothing more than erroneous liquid.

His wings were made up of a few tattered secondaries and coverts, his primary feathers would need days to recover. His clothes stuck to him like a leech, the glue of his own sweat making his skin crawl.

A vibration in his trouser pocket brought him back to life. Keigo shot up, picking out his phone with a swift hand, his eyes strained by the painful white of the screen’s light.

The smartphone rang in his hand, shaking just like him. Keigo answered and felt himself sweating a little more.

“Hell-“

“Hawks. You’re needed for a last minute patrol.” A gruel voice barked out an order from the other end of the line.

“Madame President,” Keigo swallowed the spite stuck to his tongue, “With all due respect , you did just dismiss me, and I’m sure there are other heroes available to fill in for me!”

He did his best to spoil his voice with sunshine, but was met with nothing but silence.

His fluffy eyebrows furrowed at how loud the emptiness felt, not a single drone of white noise came from the other end.

“Madame-“

“You’re to report to my office immediately, Hawks,”

The call declined and the phone lay dead in his hand. Keigo’s fingers tightened around its frame, threatening to crack - whether the phone or his fingers would crack first, he wasn’t sure.

Tattered feathers sharpened in fear and Keigo’s face fell white. He had exhausted his body all day, fighting back whatever force the world threw at him. From the crack of dawn until the rest of the world fell asleep, he zipped around the city.

All for the greater good, he was always told.

And now, he was being told to report to his superior for - no doubt - a rather harsh scolding.

Peeling his clammy body from the sofa, Keigo made his way to his apartment’s door, leaving behind his jacket that he’d slung over a chair. His boots echoed footsteps and bounced them off the empty walls. Not looking back, not bothering to take in what he could of the only place he wasn’t watched.

They’d have cameras in here by the time he got back, anyway.

Walking down the street, Keigo was met with a black sky. Clouds hid away the beauty of the stars, the moon crying behind their mist. His feet slid across the pavement, too tired to put one in front of the other with the grace of a hero.

Keigo could fly and be there in a moment, but he’d sold his soul for a bit of cheap praise from people he knew couldn’t give a shit about him.

He’d reach the entrance of the HPSC eventually, the skyscraper sticking out of the gum of the ground like an ugly tooth. Greeting the receptionist telling her he’d been called for, he smiled with his teeth and trudged towards the nearest elevator and punched the button that would fly him up to Madame President’s office.

He stood still the whole ride, the eye of a camera burning into the back of his head - probably gawking at the laughable sight of his wings.

So much for the Winged Hero, Keigo thought.

Keigo went on autopilot as he sauntered through the empty floor of office cubicles until he reached the windowless room that was the sanctuary of his superior.

Bracing himself with a silent, short breath, Keigo rapped his knuckle on the door.

“Enter,” a low voice beckoned him forward.

Keigo pulled the door handle and slowly extended his arm inwards, met with the light of the office. The avian closed the door behind him and felt his wings shiver when he heard it auto-lock.

“Sit down, Hawks,” Madame President gestured to a lonely chair in front of her desk, smiling with hidden malice.

Keigo obeyed, lowering himself down and making sure he didn’t slouch.

“You asked for me?” He dared to speak.

“I don’t like attitude, Hawks,” Madame spoke, blunt as ever, “When a handler orders you to do something, you are expected to do it,”

Keigo felt his blood run cold at her words. She didn’t bother to blanket her intentions. He would be lectured, and then sanctioned. For the greater good.

“I understand, Madame,” Keigo squeaked, eyes down like a sheepish puppy.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Keigo pinned his eyes to hers and didn’t dare break eye contact for a second. For a moment, he was a child again; a huddle of skin and bones on the floor as his father kicked in his stomach for leaving the house.

“Yes, Madame,” his voice barely scratched its way up his throat.

“For your outlandish behaviour against a handler, I’m sure you’re aware you will need to be sanctioned,” Madame President repeated Keigo’s thoughts.

The avian nodded, the corners of his lips quivering into a meek smile. His feathers ruffled, his heart threatening to burst from his chest.

Keigo felt sick.

For the greater good, his mind barked at him.

The days of his ‘special program’ ran through his mind. That poor boy, he had no idea what kind of machine they were going to turn him into. They were gentle at first, using blanketed words to coax him forward to their goal.

They used to be gentle to that baby bird. When it was time to pick through his pin feathers, they only tore them out.

“Follow me to the rehabilitation hall, Hawks.”

“Yes, Madame President.”

His superior ushered Keigo to the room he remembered all too well, watching him with the eyes in the back of her head.

The walk was quick, Keigo blinked and he was already locked in with the same man he’d known from his boyhood.

“Hawks.” He spat at the avian.

Hawks didn’t say anything. Like a whimpering dog, he inched forward to the man, awaiting his sanction.

The first punch was always the worst.

But, it was for the greater good.

When it was all over, they’d half-ass bandaging him up and covering up his bruises with makeup.

For the greater good, a hero must always look his best.

A hero must always obey his handler, no matter what. That’s what they’d told Keigo Takami when he was a little boy, right before they’d tell him that everything from this point onward;

For the greater good.

[behoright]

alive for you l j. studnicka

I drive fast / wind in my hair / push it to the limits

summary: Jack just cannot wait to get you out of this club. He also can’t seem to wait until you get home.

wordcount: 3k

song: burning desire - lana del rey

warnings: minors dni! Surprise surprise: cursing and smut! Also, semi public sex. Oh and proofreading was uhhh…fast. So bear with me.

a/n: I actually don’t super love this one but I have a huge cr*sh on him and there isn’t enough talk about this man so here you go. Inbox is always open for you. Love u love uuuuuu

⠀⠀⠀⤷⠀⠀⠀⭒⠀⠀⠀˘˘⠀⠀⠀⠀🍮⠀⠀⠀⟡

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, baby.”

The vibrations of the music ran through your body as you found yourself in the corner of the Canuck’s most cherished and frequented club in the city, your arms securely wrapped around your boyfriend.

That's what he had become, officially, a couple weeks ago.

Much to your surprise, Jack blew your expectations when he took you out to dinner to ask you properly.

You had gotten to see how romantically cheesy he was behind closed doors, but taking the step to officially call you his girlfriend made you swoon to no end.

“It drives me insane when you call me that.” He muttered, moving his lips across the shell of your ear.

As you looked at him, his skin reflecting colorful lights amongst the crowd, all you could do was place your lips on his again.

It felt like you had spent the whole night attached to each other.

You truly hadn’t been able to stop kissing and making out since you met at the doors of the club. The first kiss in two weeks was spectacular, but something kept you pulling each other together.

Magnetized.

The feeling of being together felt addicting; it felt like peace, like placing the last piece in a puzzle.

The slight problem was that as much as you had craved each other for a while now, you hadn’t actually gotten to spend private time together yet.

Right after making it official, Jack had to leave for a ten day roadie, leaving you equally high and dry.

So right after you became official, you were separated. It was okay, part of his life that now involved yours, but it had come at the worst time.

The last kiss before he left leaving a sopping puddle in your underwear.

So tonight, finally reunited, you stuck to each other like glue.

There was absolutely no way he was going to leave your side, just like you only went to meet up with him.

Mostly self contained people, you could care less about the club or the drinks. The earlier you could both politely sneak away from the team, the better.

The tension was there, palpable, and obvious to everyone, even though you didn’t care, both in each other’s worlds.

Jack's favorite spot tonight had been behind you; whether at the bar, reaching over your head with his lanky arms to grab drinks, or on the dance floor.

He had always been shy, the more reserved guy in every group he was part of.

It all went out of the window with you.

He didn’t know if it had been the shots, he doubted it was the environment, but he felt alone with you as he bravely took you to the middle of the dance floor before immediately slipping his tongue past your lips for the millionth time.

You couldn’t hear the scoffs and chirps from his nearby teammates as you collided, craving to be on top of each other already.

His muscular thigh boldly splitting your legs apart, he was all around you.

Wild and intoxicating, he ondulanted himself against you harder and harder, practically rubbing your small frame on top of him as he kept kissing you. The fabric of his dark washed jeans reverberated against your clit, creating waves of pleasure under your thin panties.

His cock began swelling fast, having you in such a vulnerable position, both mentally and physically, all while in a public place.

He couldn’t help himself.

He had to have you close to him; he had to grab you and run his fingers through the roots of your hair, up and down your silhouette as you grinded together to the beat of the music.

He knew you were moaning, your whimpers and sweet meowings vibrating against his lips as he moved his mouth in unison with you, pushing his tongue against yours deeply.

He wanted more, and it was hard to hold back as your hip would bump into his hard and evident boner every time he pushed your back closer to him again, literally moving your body up and down his perched leg.

It was only when he realized his hands were gripping the flesh of your ass underneath your bodycon dress that he pulled away from you, breathlessly, his eyes panicking with lust as he took your features in.

“I’m about a second away from bending you over this bar and fucking you right here.¨

He muttered against your ear, causing eyes to widen as you felt your underwear drench at his explicit words.

He watched you smile sweetly in response, the hint of nervousness as you bit the inside of your cheek being the last straw for him tonight.

“C’mon.” He said, reaching out to grab your hand.

He wouldn’t bother with goodbyes or formalities.

Not tonight.

Jack had fallen hard.

After his last breakup, he was sure he’d never love again, or at least not anytime soon.

With the undoing of his long, tumultuous relationship with Boston as the backdrop, the only thing that kept him going was hockey.

But it was all in the past now.

You came into his life at the perfect moment, in all of your splendor, and took the poor boy by storm.

He had no clue how enthralled he would become with you, falling fast and hard, and yet, so securely.

You had brought such a sense of normalcy and tenderness back in his life, acclimating him to his new city in the most simple and still significant way.

He knew you had to be his.

He was over the moon when you accepted, regardless of the looming trip that was upcoming.

Now that you were his, he could have you whenever he wanted.

He basically hauled you to his car, your platforms dragging through the asphalt as your tiny steps attempted to keep up with his strides.

He knew that the next 20 minutes were going to be difficult.

He didn’t mind the roadie, even if he thought about flying you out while in the midst of it. The anticipation that had built up between you two excited him; but he knew that his patience had worn thin.

He couldn’t keep up the civilized act in the club, around the whole organization and teammates, let alone in this empty parking lot.

He knew that if he slowed down, or picked you up, or even glanced at you, that he was going to rip that tiny dress right off your body and take you right then and there.

So he kept his gaze stuck to his shoes as he hurried you through the night, opening the car door. with an excited giggle that he couldn’t contain as he peeked at you slipping in the seat.

“Jack, you’re so-“

“Shut up.” he interrupted you, his face changing shades as he shut the door swiftly.

It was bad enough that you heard him giggling like an idiot schoolboy; he didn’t need your chirping.

You got on the road quickly, Jack pushing down on the gas pedal harder than he should have as his speakers began playing, coincidentally, the sultriest playlist he had.

He inhaled sharply as the engine of his vehicle roared, giving his impatience away.

“You okay, babe?”you asked, peeking over at him with a smile.

It was almost adorable how hard he was trying to keep himself tamed.

“I can’t wait to get you in my sheets, Y/N.” He uttered, running his clammy hand through his thick locks.

You instinctively bit your lip in excitement, your body betraying you as you let a whimper out.

He tried to hide it, but you could see him smirk when he turned his head slightly towards his window.

“I, um, I can’t wait either.” You uttered.

As you looked around the slick interior of his sports car, the dark and empty road moving fast around you, you let your mind wander for a little too long.

Perhaps it was the drinks, or just him, but you turned yourself towards him, ending up with your knees on the seat and your elbows on the console.

The initial cheek kiss that you gave him made the both of you blush, his bashful eyes battering over at you slightly. But the more kisses you planted, the louder your humming against his chiseled jaw became, the thicker the air felt around you.

“Wh-, what are you doing?” He gulped.

“Am I distracting you, Jack?” You asked, unconsciously seductive.

“I don’t mind that it’s you distracting me…”

“Can you stay focused?” You continued, placing more kisses on his face, by his cheekbones and sideburns.

“…Yeah.” He responded after a couple of beats.

“You can?” you whispered into his skin, now lowering your lips against the back of his ear, his neck and collarbones.

“Mm, yes. I can.” he said, his low voice quivering.

“Right.” you said, your free hand slithering over onto his throbbing bulge, his cock pressing painfully against his fly.

Your skin absorbed the pulsations of his cock as you undid his pants, silky fingertips feeling the ridges of his member through his boxers.

“God, baby, you’re such a tease.” He quivered as you circled your nail around the wet spot that he was leaving on the fabric.

“I don’t have to be.”

Hastily, you moved your head down, letting his cock hit your face as you pulled the boxers away from him and his length into your throat immediately.

The car swerved slightly as a moan violently left Jack.

“Baby…?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“I can do it, I can do it” he reiterated, not brave enough to face you. “Just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

You chuckled as you closed your mouth around him once again, swirling your tongue and mixing your spit with his salty precum, making out with the head of his cock, now bright red and palpitating.

“You’re a dream, you’re a fucking dream.” he moaned, the leather of the steering wheel creaking under his tightening grip, knuckles fading into a creamy white of frustration.

You took him deep again, choking on his girth as he hit the back of your throat. His hand flew into your hair as he praised you through gritted teeth, the way you were hollowing out your cheeks as you bobbed up and down had his muscles clenching involuntary.

“Fuck yeah, baby.” he groaned, still responsibly keeping his eyes on the street signs as began to unravel under you.

Muffled and choked moans were the only thing coming out of you, spit dripping down from your throat and seeping into his pubic hair, his balls, his clothes.

“Wait, wait, wait.” he said, pushing you off him a little too harshly. “Uh, you’re going to make me cum, baby.”

Jack made sure to wipe your bottom lip as you came up, the rough texture of his fingertips recoiling against your plump mouth. He did everything to stop his thumb from sneaking inside you, the vision of you sucking on his digits too much to take.

“We’re almost there, baby. Just a little more.” You whispered against his hand, rubbing his clenched arm. He couldn’t stay away from you, and you could see it was truly taking a toll on him.

All Jack could think about was touching you.

Evidently, he had more self control than you, but not by much. His eyes kept darting over to your legs, your skin tight dress having raised up just enough to have him twitching in anticipation.

It was becoming more unbearable to focus on the running pavement in front of him, the sounds of your heavy, exasperated breathing muffling the music.

“Fuck it.” he muttered. “Spread your legs, angel.”

You did as commanded, no reluctance, and watched his hand lower onto your heat right away.

“Holy fuck.”

He pulled your panties to the side, still as focused as he could be driving, and wasted no time in dipping his fingers inside your dripping pussy.

“God, baby.” He groaned, moving uncomfortably in his seat.

Jack’s eyes struggled to stay on the road, his light brown irises moving back and forth in pleasure. The more he played with you, the more he could feel you get wetter around his digits, his skin wrinkling as you soaked your desire within his touch.

All he wanted was to see you.

He didn’t want to be around anyone else.

He for sure didn’t want to be driving.

He had spent weeks away from you, dreaming about lowering his head in between your thighs so you could finally reveal the heaven he had fantasized about so much.

And now, he found himself painfully stuck feeling you only, piecing you together by touch only.

Running his fingertip up and down your folds, Jack felt every single inch and crevice of your cunt.

The warmth of you transpiring onto him as he rubbed your clit with his thumb, reaching his long fingers around to feel more of you.

He was able to mostly keep it together, puzzling you inside his mind as the sounds of your moaning made his skin raise into delicious goosebumps.

That’s what ultimately drove him mad.

He couldn’t bear to listen to you like this and not see it, not be closer to you and present.

“You’re making it so fucking hard to hold back.” He said, his jaw clenched. “Look how hard you’re making me.”

Your eyes darted over to him, his cock sitting up, dripping and making a mess over him. The sight made you twitch onto his fingers, calling for a moan out of you both.

Jack thought about it for two seconds, but seeing your hips grind on his fingers when he peeked over at you solidified it.

“Fuck this.” he said. “I’m pulling over.”

Thankfully, he was able to find a secluded spot quickly, his bicep visibly clenching through his dress shirt as he pulled on the parking break.

“I’m going to fuck your brains out.” he said, immediately turning to you and wrapping his hands around your cheeks, holding your face.

You both laughed as you ran to the backseat. It took no time for him to get settled, spreading his thighs in the middle seat as you straddled him at the same time.

Your hands ripped his button up open, revealing his flushed chest as he let your breasts trickle out of your dress, directly burying his face in them while you began to rub yourself up and down his shaft, circling your pelvis instinctively.

“You ready?” He asked as he came up for air, his grip tight on your hips, angling you above his leaking cock.

“I’ve been ready since I saw you hours ago.”

Jack threw his head back with a smile, the warm, golden light of love rushing through him at your words. He could see your illuminating smile fade into a gasp with him as you sunk down onto his cock.

The moment you two had been waiting so long for, yearning for weeks, and…

… it wasn’t enough.

As tight and overwhelmingly good it felt, Jack just felt the need for you increase.

He wanted, needed to move inside you.

He craved the waves of pleasure to thunder through your bodies, electricity jumping through his nervous system with arching hedonism.

Jack’s hands began to roam as you started to bounce on top of him, tearing your dress off in as many ways as he desperately could.

His extremities started tingling in pleasure as you kept moving, bouncing and grinding, letting your body seek out gratification and ecstasy on its own and driving him further and closer to his peak.

He was grabbing you perilously, as if he had never felt skin before, reaching for indulgence in every possible way.

“Jack, oh my god.”

The look of delirious pleasure, the way he was reaching for you, groaning and growling loudly, squeezing you a little too hard and even accidentally scratching at times, made you move faster. He was completely unhinged and primal, running his tongue up your neck, you tits as your nails trembled from gripping onto his thick shoulders so hard.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close already.” He said against your arm, planting sloppy kisses in between words.

You were covered in each other, all around, making the windows fog.

The wheels of the car began to move just by the slight force of you riding him as he gave into his instincts and stated fucking back up into you, his cock reaching even deeper than before.

He could feel how gushy you were inside, your temperature heating him up and covering his twitching member in your desire. The louder he groaned and let go, the harsher he thrashed into your cunt, hitting the perfect spot to make you see stars.

“Jack, I’m, I’m-“ you warned him.

Jack felt your heels shake against his shin, as you started to lose control of your muscles at the edge of your orgasm.

“Don’t hold back, baby.” He coaxed, making sure he could see your clearly by holding your hair back.

“Cum all over me, fucking cover me in it, baby.” He said breathlessly. “Mark my car, my seats, I don’t give a fuck.”

His words made the floodgates open, a gush of syrupy cum ripping out of you with enough force to make you convulse in his lap, moaning as no one in the world would be able to hear you.

“Holy fucking-, you’re going to make me cum. Oh, baby.” He gulped in response, his eyes following your every expression.

The passion had built enough to release, becoming to powerful for either of you to take, as you came over each other. You gripped him hard, his hands clenching on your ruched up dress as he emptied his load inside you, audibly hyperventilating and growling deeply into your chest as you clutched his soft hair, coming down, shaking.

You both trembled for a while, quivering and wavering in each other’s arms as you let the chemicals run through your veins; only pulling back after a while, Jack staring up at you, dumbfounded.

“You’re an angel, I think.” He said, bringing you down to kiss him as you wiped the sweat beads off his forehead gently.

Hours could have passed before you decided to leave; keeping each other breathless as you sat together, his cock soaking the mixture of cum as you kept kissing, ending the night just how it had began, before you headed home to do it all over again.

[scorchedthesnake]

March 7, 2011

I moved to New York City in August 2010. My life before New York was something I’d grown completely unsatisfied with: I had moved to Connecticut for graduate school in 2001, had weathered two recessions in the relative security of academe but could see the writing on the wall for the doom of that profession and so had, via my teaching assistants union, begun to work for our international union as a communications staffer. This had given me a way out of Connecticut, though escaping the cultish environment of the union would still take a few more years.

The person I was back then was very unlike the person I am now. I wasn’t very much fun those first nine months in the city because I was just so afraid of everything. Bars scared me; too many strangers. Clubs scared me; too dark and too many unknowns and unpredictable scenarios. I was happy to be in a new place but petrified by what that freedom actually meant, and I had yet to find any place to belong or feel at home in.

I worked on 7th Avenue back then, around 27th Street. I remember sitting in my dreary cubicle that Monday, when I got a message from my best friend Matt, asking me if I wanted to go to a show that evening. No, I said, I really just want to go home and hide from the world. It’s the show John (O’Malley) is working on, he said, and he got us comps. Well what kind of show is it, I asked? “We’re gonna, like, chase sexy dancers around a warehouse.” Oh god that sounds so stupid, do I have to? “Just come with me, if you hate it you can leave.” 

So around 7pm I walked over to 10th Avenue and the block was so dumpy back then – junkyards, warehouses, not much else. I saw a small line of people gathered at the address I’d been given, so I approached and was handed this card:

I don’t remember anything about checking in or what it was like seeing Manderley for the first time, though I do remember Maximilian being there, giving a short speech and then we were taken to the elevator. I remember getting off the elevator on 3, and taking far too long to explore an empty Macbeths bedroom before, I suppose, figuring out I should investigate the other floors.

I’ve told this story often, though: at some point I came across an extremely attractive man moving quickly, so I did what it seemed like many others were doing: I followed him. We were in the 2nd loop by now, and I had realized it was a loop; but my target soon was running down High Streeet and through a darkened door and it slammed in my face and, to my surprise, was locked.

Oh, there are secret things all over here, aren’t there?

So I picked up his trail again as soon as I could, and stuck as close as I could. Including when we stumbled down all the flights of stairs and I wondered, should I call for help? Is the performer injured? But I stuck to him like glue and when he again approached that darkened door I was close enough to get inside.

And so the highlight of my first show was seeing Luke Murphy in interrogation.

After the finale I reconnected with Matt. We had, of course, seen completely different shows. As we exited we saw John. “Did you get any one on ones,” he asked? One on whats? “Well, I had one where the man in the lobby took me into a room and started putting on makeup.”

No we hadn’t seen anything like that. We immediately set about buying tickets for later in the six-week run. And we wandered the streets for a couple hours after that, comparing notes, feverishly reconstructing what we had just experienced. 

Obviously I did not sleep that night.

So much of the time you don’t know when everything has changed. You realize it long after the fact and in retrospect. Not this, this I knew was a fundamental shift. I’d never felt my senses at full alert like that, my mind racing trying to make sense of something so visceral. The music rang in my ears for hours, days later, and I knew when I came back, I’d need a plan.

[bomberqueen17]

progress etc

god it's less than a week to christmas. ok cool. yeah. great. all right.

i am. what have i been doing??? i don't know. I've sewn several things-- most notably a pair of leggings-- and the house renovations have progressed to the point that we're getting final measurements for counters tomorrow. I'll put pictures behind the cut. We painted the ceiling ourselves, as paint isn't included in the remodel.

I don't remember what I last posted pictures of. IDK there's a floor now, I didn't take pictures of that yet.

ok i was wrong i do have one photo of the floor but it's in-progress, max is in the background wedging it in between the cabinets.

[image description: an awkward angle looking down standing in the side door entryway, with the blue-washed gray side of a new cabinet facing me, some of the plywood subfloor exposed coated in glue, mottled gray fake stone tiles laid out and the hunched form of a man in a gray sweatshirt kneeling on the floor in the background with his head hidden behind the cabinet. Listen I wasn't trying to be creepy.]

it's fake stone vinyl tiles. i know, not normally my aesthetic, and it's probably the thing that'll look most dated in a little bit, but there was no point trying to do anything wooden or wood-look because the rest of the house has original hardwood from 1950 and anything new wouldn't match. (the hardwood badly needs refinishing, let's not contemplate that right at this juncture...)

Max is from Elmira, btw, and only moved to Buffalo a year ago-- just in time for the blizzard to absolutely destroy his first apartment here and wreck most of his stuff. It was a bit of a harsh welcome to the city. He's soft-spoken and extremely polite and doesn't really know how to talk to me, not the way Jim the installer (fiftysomething and very experienced) does. He did gently laugh at me when I left yesterday and then immediately had to come back to get my keys, which I had locked inside the house (but of course as he was still there the other door was still unlocked). "I grew up in the kind of place where you don't bother locking doors," I said, and he was like "lol same".

(I know Elmira because Middle-Little went to college there. It's a sort of dire little place in the Southern Tier-ish region of NY, a couple hours away. The region is fairly economically devastated, alternating crushing rural poverty with Tourism Dollars; Elmira itself boasts a college, a prison, and precious little else.)

Anyway-- painting the ceiling over the weekend, I discovered that the real life hack for painting a ceiling is for at least one member of your party to be six feet three inches.

[image description: my dude, a tall thin white man in an uncharacteristic ball cap he's only wearing to avoid paint splatter (it is embroidered with the HTML tags <head> on the front and </head> on the back, and was a gift to him in like 2002) is standing on the cardboard-and-sheet-draped floor of the kitchen using a paint roller on the ceiling, which he can reach easily; in front of him the cabinets are all draped in old sheets as well and there's a random light bulb sticking out because the installer wired that in for us to use as a work light since the electricians haven't installed the ceiling lights yet which was why it was an ideal time for us to paint said ceiling.]

Anyway it's going great. The counters won't go in until January sometime, but early January. The electricians plan to come the day after Christmas and I won't be there until the afternoon so I'm going to check in with Jim today about what they'll need.

Meanwhile, I remembered that I hadn't set myself the goal of crafting anything for Christmas except I bought a bunch of scarf blanks from Dharma Trading to dye as gift wraps and gift components and my basement is all torn apart and I don't dare make that kind of mess in my mother-out-law's basement so I need to work out how to get that done so I'm really kind of slogging through that, a bit.

OH i just went to look at what the last pictures I posted of the kitchen were and the answer is LIKE NONE so omg sorry here's before we painted the ceiling, where you can see what it's gonna look like!

[image description: This is View A, from the side door toward the front of the house. Along the left of the photo is a line of cabinets, a set on the ground and then another mounted up on the wall; in the middle of that will be the sink, and then farther down a dishwasher (!!!) and beyond that the stove, all along that north wall of the house. The middle of the photo is the big bay window we had installed, and there are cabinets along the front of it: the countertop will extend out from those, and will form a seating area. To the right of the window, the front door is now visible, that little wall having been removed and now being a wide-open space into the entryway. The right of the photo is the interior wall of the kitchen, now transformed into a built-in pantry space with a fridge hole in the middle, where the extra flooring tiles are currently stacked.]

[image description: this is View B, from the front door into the kitchen. The foreground is the big open space where the wall was removed; the bay window is just out of frame to the right, and the far wall shows the empty space (now containing buckets of floor glue and a roll of cardboard) where the stove will be, and above it will be an extractor hood (no more Everything Smells Like Salmon!!), and the empty space (now filled with a rolling garbage can the contractors are using) for the dishwasher, and then the little window right above the sink-- this is a detail we've kept from the old kitchen, that's where the sink was and that's where the window, but the window seems bigger because the cabinets aren't packed so tightly around it now-- and you can see the side door there, and then the left of the photo shows the edge of the pantry unit where the fridge will go.]

It's a much more open space, both of us can be in there, someone doing dishes while you cook is no longer the world-ending inconvenience it historically has been, and also now you can talk to someone in the living room while you're in the kitchen without needing to holler.

Yeah the gray cabinets are-- well they're pale wood washed with dilute blue, is what they are, and all the hard fixtures are in neutral shades like that, grays and gray-blues, and the countertops will be white with tiny sparkles, and the idea is that the big wall to the west and the little bits of wall around the windows will be painted some bold color we'll match with like throw rugs and hot mats and other changeable fixtures, so the kitchen can get "redecorated" with a new coat of paint and not clash with the hard fixtures. This job cost five figures, we're not re-redoing it during our lifetimes.

[oleander-nin]

1) Congrats on the follower milestone!!! Your writing style is lovely and I appreciate you sharing it with the world 💖💖💖

2) For the follower special may I prompt: action 10 and verbal 14 with Rise!Raph? Some mission gone wrong where he took most of the damage and he's too stubborn to accept help but mc is having none of that; no pressure!!

3) Love your writing style² thank u and bye djhdhdjsjs 💖💖💖

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long, I'm getting into a bit of a creative rut. Hopefully I'll get more up soon, but idk. I'm really sorry. I'm also trying to change up my writing style a bit, so sorry if the pacing or the wording's goofy. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: Blood, wounds, bandaging a wound, stitches mentioned

Words: 1055

Prompt(s) requested: 10A(Wrapping a wound) & 14V("Go back and sit down. Let me take care of you.")

Summary: Raph wanted you to help him with a wound he got in a fight.

I swing a cabinet open, grumbling to myself as I scan the contents for the first aid bag. His injuries weren’t serious enough for me to demand Leo’s help or try and get him to a hospital in the Hidden City, but they were still nasty. I hoist the bag out of the cabinet, dragging the large canvas sack I used to store my medical supplies in into the living room Raph was currently occupying. I set the bag on the floor next to the couch, my ankle hooking a stool and sliding it over. I sit down to look at Raph’s arms.

Both were covered in scratches, big and small. Both old and new scars lined his scaly skin, covering his green skin in the lines of bravery and stupidity, mapping out his adventures onto his skin. I gently turn his wrist, eyeing the large gash that stretches from his wrist to just above his elbow. Raph sucks in a quick breath at the sight of it, his eyes scanning the injury alongside my own.

“Baby… What did you get into?” I mumble softly, undoing the wraps on his arms. Raph doesn’t answer, his hunched form tensing when the dried blood glues his wrappings to his skin. I wince, stopping where I was. “I’m going to go grab a rag and some warm water so I can try and make this a bit easier on you, okay big guy?”

I watch Raph try to stand, my eyes narrowing at him. His dark eyes soften when they fall on me, his less damaged arm motioning for me to move out of his way. “Raph can get it. You’re already doing too much.”

I sigh. He really wasn’t huge on getting help, was he. I step over the canvas bag, placing my hand on his plastron. I push him back down, his bruised body sinking back into the couch. "You just sit down. Let me take care of you."

Raph grumbles as I move into the kitchen, grabbing a tea towel from the drawer and filing a mixing bowl with warm water. I balance the water filled bowl with my hands, grabbing another towel and throwing it over my shoulder. Raph meets my eye when I walk back in. I smile brightly, setting the water bowl down. I dip one of the towels in the warm water, wringing it out slightly before wrapping it around Raph’s arm. He hisses at the warm water hitting his wound, mumbled apologies tumbling from my lips.

We sit in a comfortable silence while I let the towel sit on his arm, hoping to loosen the wrappings. I glance at him, my eyes raking over his body with a surgeon's clarity. He was bruised and scratched all over, his skin littered with small cuts. I distantly wondered how the rest of his brothers looked. I turn back to the towel around his arm, gently peeling it off. If Raph was here, that meant his brothers were either fine, or being taken care of. He wouldn’t leave their sides otherwise.

The damp bandages come off more smoothly now, my fingers gently coaxing them off his skin as if they had been buttered. Raph hisses lowly when the bandage pulls at his wound, the sound piercing the air. I drift my hands down to hold his larger one, gently rubbing at his knuckles. I would not rush the process. Raph’s comfort was my top priority; nothing else in this moment mattered.

The rest of the wrappings soon fall, making a small pile on the floor. My thumb rubs the edge of his wound as I chew on my cheek. It looked like it needed stitches, and I doubted I could do them myself. I sigh, pulling out a box of butterfly bandages from my canvas bag. Raph watches me, his eyes flickering between my hands and the alternate for stitching.

“Those won’t hold.”

My eyes shift to meet his, the bandages in my hand. “The wound needs stitches. This is just temporary until you get home and Leo can take over.”

Raph purses his lips, but nods, allowing me to continue. I set the bandages to the side, using the damp warm rag from before to clean around his wound. I pick up a spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide, sympathy pulling my face tight. “This’ll sting…”

Raph nods at my warning and slowly breathes as I spray the wound, watching the white foam fizzle around the edges. I set the bottle back on the ground, patting my thighs as I wait for the foam to die down. Raph sucks in his cheek as he eyes the cut, ignoring the pain. I carefully pat the wound and the area around it dry, keeping an eye on the angry skin. 

I take the paper off the back of the butterfly stitched, pinching the wound closed with my thumbs before carefully applying the bandage. I continue to do this with the rest of the wound, being as gentle as I can. Raph doesn’t utter a word during the process, his face turned away from the wound. I sit back while looking at the wound. It was closed, but not well. It definitely needed proper stitching. Oh well. I couldn’t do anything about it but text Leo.

I pick up a bandage roll and start wrapping his arm, keeping the roll taut. Raph grins when I finish, taking his arm and looking at the wrapping. He nods in approval, and I sigh in relief. I wasn’t the best at wrapping wounds.

My eyes go wide when I feel arms around me, Raph���s head burying itself into the junction of my neck and shoulder. I smile, patting his shoulder. 

“Thanks for the help.” His voice is muffled by my skin, his arms loose around me. “Raph appreciates it a lot.”

I puff out my cheeks, feeling a bit embarrassed. “It was no problem, love. Just… Make sure you get Leo to stitch it, okay?”

Raph nods still holding onto me, and I finally melt into him. The wound was fine for now, no need to be pushy. Might as well be together for a while.  I press a gentle kiss to Raph’s temple, smiling softly. It was said affection can help speed up the healing process after all.

[neyswxrld]

the thief

99 & Reader (platonic)

summary: When you decide to catch the thief of your office, you never thought about 99. You're even more surprised when you find out about his secret.

warnings: maybe a bit angst

word count: ~1090

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the last fic for my advent calendar! i hope you enjoy! i can't believe this is over already, hehe. i hope you have a few wonderful days and wish you a merry christmas!

Quietly, you are sitting in the small closet of your office on Kamino.

The doors were almost closed. Only a small slit allows you to observe the quiet room.

It all started a few days ago, when you couldn't find your sticky tape. At first, you thought that maybe you misplaced it, but then various other things started to disappear.

Your sissors, glue, paper, another roll of sticky tape.

You figured that someone is stealing your stuff. The question is just who.

So you decided not to go to the mess hall or to your quarters just now, but to hide and reveal your thief.

You don't even have to wait for that long. It is about ten minutes after the official end of your shift when you hear someone entering the code on the door.

The door slides open, and you can hear someone walking in. Irregular steps, followed by the sound of small wheels rolling over the floor. 

That could just be one special person-

You can't even finish your whole thought, as the exact person walks in your field of view.

99.

He's the thief?

Just as you want to shrug it off, you see how he grabs the perforater on your desk. He puts it in his small rolling container with all the cleaning stuff and casually walks out again, after cleaning your desk.

Perpleed, you can just watch him. Only in the last second, you jump out of your hiding place.

"99?" you ask.

Startled, he turns around, his right eye getting as big as a ball.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am?" he asks, as innocent as ever.

"Did you... Are you... Have you been stealing my stuff?" you ask him, a bit worried. Why would he do that?

"Oh- Ah-... Yes, I- I did," he answers a little bit reluctant, but honest. "I wanted to give it back to- to you. Sorry, for not asking first," he explains, shuffling on his feet a little.

"It's- uuuh... It's okay, because it's you," you nod, already forgiving him. "What are you doing with all that stuff?" you ask him, coming closer a little bit. You almost feel like you're cooing a hurt tooka out of the corner.

"All the cadets. It's almost Christmas and they deserve something for- for this special occasion," he explains, rubbing his neck, looking down on the floor.

"So you're gifting them my utensils?" You're still so confused about hus actions.

"No, no! I- I'm wrapping some presents. I'm sorry I didn't ask you," he says again.

Your heart warm at the confession a little bit.

"You're wrapping presents for the little ones? All alone?" you want to know, just to make sure.

99 just nods.

"Well, okay. Can I-... Would you like some help? There are a lot of presents to wrap if you want to give one of them to anyone," you say.

99 thinks about it for a minute, before nodding.

"Okay. Come with me, but you have to- have to promise me you won't tell anyone anything," he agrees, pulling a promise from your lips at the same time.

"My lips are sealed," you assure him, slowly following him through the bright halls of Tipoca City.

"What are you gifting to them?" you ask him quietly after some time.

He looks at you with big eyes again, before answering: "Sweets and Cookies. Some of the older Generation have brought some and- and I thought I could make the smaller one's happy."

A small, sad smile appears on your lips.

On one side, you're absolutely touched by 99's thoughtfulness and his love for his brothers. On the other side, it hits you all over again, that the only single for those childrens is to become soldiers. They weren't allowed to life their own free life and all the single things that were guaranteed for you as you grew up, are rarities for them. If 99's plan will work out, it's going to be the first time for many of the small cadets to try their first sweet food.

As you reach an unintrusive door, 99 looks around a few times, before entering a code.

The door swings open and you shuffle into the small storage room.

Inside, there was a small table with different things on top - all stuff from your office. Around the room were some crates, filled with colorful candies.

"I made those tiny boxes,"  99 explains and shows you said thing. It was made out of paper and had a small smiling face painted on it.

In a corner was a huge mountain, made out of several other paper boxes with different things painted on them.

"I can show you how to fold one... And then we fill it up. One goody for every cadet, otherwise it won't be enough for- for everyone," he explains, waving you over already.

You're a bit speechless. When you thought about the thief you expected someone of your colleagues who was too lazy to order new stuff, but you didn't count on 99, doing such a heartwarming thing for his little brothers.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, coming over to him and letting him show you how to help him.

After that afternoon, you spend the majority of your free time together with 99 in that little room.

Day after day, you help him prepare for his surprises, trying to support him in every way and providing him with different supplies.

When Christmas finally arrives, you two wait at the mess hall for all the small cadets, giving everyone of them a small package.

You've never seen them that happy.

When the night comes around, you and 99 visit the cadets in the large sleeping hall. Most of them are very excited, thanking him again for his gesture.

Af the evening goes on and on, you start telling some Christmas tales and share some other traditions you did with your family.

Even though there is a relatively big turmoil, you are never interrupted by any Kaminoans or other authorities.

While 99 starts to believe it was a little wonder no one noticed, you know better.

Maybe, just maybe, you updated some schedules in the morning, taking care of that problem, and kept away said people from the barraks for the evening.

Everyone here deserves an event full of carefree fun and joy, and when you could help in any way regarding that, you would.

Over and over again.

You've never seen 99 that happy, either.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[we-are-inevitable]

jac. this is an incredibly unstructured question but: any thoughts on davey in relation to stick season wabhf? songs he would like? any lyrics you really relate to him? would he be a noah fan?(enough to drag jack to a concert or two?) the floor is yours dude lol :)

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god

ok well. HAH we all know my connections between him and Call Your Mom by now but davey and noah is so……. so near and dear to me

i DO think noah is more of a jack kind of guy (and stick season is more of a jack album), but here are the noah kahan songs i associate with davey:

Northern Attitude, All My Love, Call Your Mom, Glue Myself Shut, You’re Gonna Go Far, A Troubled Mind, Come Down, Young Blood, Passenger

i can and will elaborate if need be

some (not all) noah kahan lyrics i associate with davey:

“Oh dear, oh dear, I’m sorry / That you grew up so soon” - Young Blood

“And if you want, I can tell you the truth / That this life takes a toll on you / I spend nights stitching up the lose threads in my soul / In the morning I’m bulletproof” - Young Blood

“Take me, my heart and my soul / Pick me apart and look inside, inside / Fill me with dreams I can’t hold / Keep me afloat in this cold world, cold world” - Passenger

“Tell me it won’t hurt / Now I, I’m your passenger / The old me won’t work / Now I, I’m your passenger” - Passenger

“I know I’d sell my heart for some advice / On how to ease a troubled mind” - A Troubled Mind

“No, you’d wear yourself thin / and accept every sin / And if I glued myself shut / You would find your way in” - Glue Myself Shut

“If I get too close / And I’m not how you hoped / Forgive my northern attitude, oh, I was raised out in the cold” - Northern Attitude

“Now I know your name / But not who you are / It’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood / It’s all my love, you got all my love” - All My Love

“Medicate, meditate, swear your soul to Jesus / Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason” - Call Your Mom

davey and noah:

i feel like noah is one of those artists that davey would latch onto

in my heart and soul and mind he gives me. lumineers, hozier, noah kahan, the national parks vibes- whether that’s his natural taste or something he picks up from jack is up to interpretation (bc i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: jack is a mountain wanderlust bestie)

they’d definitely go to a concert and when jack inevitable drags davey on a cross country road trip away from the city, noah is a huge chunk of the certified David and Jack Road Trip Extravaganza playlist

i also feel like. davey would find comfort in the songs not because they relate to him, necessarily- hes a city boy at heart, of course, and the woodsy vibe is just fun, not super relatable- but because they relate to jack, and he can find jack in those songs. jack and his desire and reluctance to leave the only home he’s ever known. jack and his Issues he needs to work out. jack and his complicated relationship to where he’s from and what that says about him and who he is as a person.

actually i lied davey relates to noah’s songs but specifically the ones about change and not knowing who you are

i fucking. have so many thoughts about davey. and so much love for noah. ily ily ily

[phthalology]

For Horizon Day of Service!

I'd like to request something with Eris/Toland and/or Eris & Mara (your call). Don't know if it can fit in a drabble, but bonus points if one is third-wheeling the other (platonic or romantic depending on who's tagging along.)

(Thank you!) Eris can tell Toland is afraid. He flits back and forth across the black-and-white tile. His hums, his false starts, echo the droning wind that fills the vast voids of the Ascendant Plane. On either side of the three people on the tiled floor there is an immeasurable white-and-navy gulf. Where Toland once acted as if he deserved to ingratiate himself into Oryx’s court, standing on the cusp of Mara’s strikes him uncharacteristically silent.

“Well?” Mara says. The queen of the Reef stands before a table littered with shards of glass. Each shape she glues or puzzle-piece-clicks into its neighbor creates a corresponding connection in the material Dreaming City. She has asked Eris to help.

And Toland has asked Eris to rend the rift between himself and the queen.

Eris supposes that will have to happen naturally. 

For now, she scoops the lightning-wisp up. She tugs him close to her chest, against the riveted leather armor. 

“My queen,” Eris intones. “We ask entrance.”

Mara is under no false impression that it is Eris who needs to ask. Her eyes flash like a cat’s as she looks at Toland. 

“This one is most dangerous when preaching supplication,” Mara says. “But I suppose he can be trusted with pan-dimensional glass.”

“In our last meeting you showed force,” Toland says. “This time, delicacy. A true ruler balances the knife called tact.”

Mara scoffs softly, almost fondly, and picks up another thick shard of glass. Eris moves to help her, Toland a memory of warmth in her hands. 

[harrison-abbott]

A wasp flew in through the open shutters.

Its buzzing woke me up and in my daze

I pondered it with semi alarm.

The dehydration was too bad to get up

Immediately, so I lazed in a nihilistic state

For some time, wondering at what point

I had gotten to this stage. Where was the

Turning point from when I was a kid

And used to be so healthy? I imagined

The boy of me, watching a film of me

Right now, in this room, unable to up;

The suicidal health; the solitude in another

Country where nobody knew him.

But, I was still alive. I put my boxers and

Socks and jeans on and then I undid the

Thick bottle’s cap and took a glug from it.

Then another and then another, glug.

It was warm and corporate, but foreign

And necessary, and I didn’t care about

The taste. The bottles were only two Euros.

I took the bottle out onto the balcony.

The sky was ultramarine even though it

Was only around nine in the morning.

I looked over the ledge of the balcony and

It must’ve been forty foot or so. Would

Definitely killed me if I jumped.

I sat down and was amazed by the humidity

Of the air, coming from a naturally

Cold country. It was odd how when

I came to the continent, to countries of

This climate, I felt like somebody else,

And I rarely thought about back home,

Apart from the people in the history,

And even those villainous characters

Didn’t have the same verve or menace.

Except when it came to some people.

Like Her. I still thought a lot about her.

I’d been in several nations with her, too,

Especially her home nation, when the heat

Was just like this; and the sense of sun

And the practicality of the heat often

Reminded me of her gold hair and her

Little jokes and her green eyes. …

I got two thirds the way through the

Beer bottle and then I thought I’d head out

To the city to get exploring.

I went back into the room and into the little

Toilet and I shaved in the mirror.

Just a bare cheek, without cream, but

I didn’t cut anything. No blood, and I

Put the razor back for the next day.

I put my things together in my bag

And I locked up my room and left,

Into a hot corridor, whereby, in the middle

Of it there was a window which looked

Out onto a hollow gap of navy blue with

Tiles at the bottom, and the piping

That lined the walls of the building were

About two hundred years old at least,

And it felt a fine thing to be living in

Such an ancient place for a few days.

Whence outside the hotel the life

And breadth and wonder of the sun

Whacked me in the face and I squinted

In a pleasant way at the wonder of

The land. The urban land; the hard

Masonry of the buildings as he walked

Past, and the little pockets of balconies

Along the same way, with their flags

And ladies smoking, and the sense of

Mystery in each of the gaps of the walls.

I finished my beer bottle and put it in

A nearby bin and then opened another

One and then I took a turn down another

Street where there were many cafés.

Stately-looking women in couples,

Yammering, as I crossed them, in their

Own balletic language, which I wished

I could understand. You know when you

Get that feeling that you wished you

Could speak another language as well

As they did? There is an envy in not

Having the skill, but, also a sense of regret

That you didn’t try harder when you

Were younger. … When it comes to me,

I’m not bilingual and I’m not a pretty

Stately lady. Only a man, from a nation

Completely different. Ha. And I’ve fairly

Got my abusive problem with my health.

Often I wonder whether I might just collapse

Some day and not be able to get up again

Off the floor. I doubt whether anybody

Would take me to the hospital to get me

Fixed up. But, for now, I had this city

To glue in the memories of. … It was odd,

Too, how different the housing was in places

Like this compared to the houses back home.

They painted them in yellow, blue, pink, red,

A lovely lime green, the houses: that’s just the

Way they did it. Whereas back home the comparison

Was the sooty buildings that had gone through

The industrial revolution and still had the grime

From back in those days … and you had a handsome

Castle, sure, but: where were the colours? They

Just hadn’t thought about paint, back home, for some

Reason. … I was sweating. At the sides of my temples,

And the drips of it ran down my neck, and so I

Thought I could do with a bottle of water as well today.

So I dropped into one of those touristy shops.

Where, when I went in, there was a chap with

White hair who looked up and said hello in his

Own language, and me back at him (I could manage

That much), and I moseyed around the store, and

It was a fine thing just to be among the labels

And hues of another country’s basic items.

Food and drink: the lettering and plastic colours

That you didn’t know, that you weren’t familiar with.

For some reason it was pleasing. I paid for the

Water at the counter and the man sussed that

I wasn’t from here and he spoke my language

Instead. I thanked him and I left. And, outside,

There was a band of cars waiting to head onwards

At a red light. The cars were older and different

Makes from my own country. I sat on a bench,

Under one of the tall luscious trees that lined

The street. And opened the bottle of water and

Drank at it. And the cold fluid went down into

My gullet and even the taste of the water here

Was way different from what I normally knew.

[please-help-this-little-lesbian]

So...remember when I said I was boycotting Dead City? Welllll my dad bought the first season, so I watched it. And Boy oh Boy, Do I have Thoughts

Spoilers Ahead!!!

Note: I'm not going to address the Negan and Maggie of it all because I've long said everything I can about them.

One: What I liked, because believe it or not, I did actually like some things!

The setting! I loved seeing post-apocalyptic New York. It was really fun for me to pick out all the things I recognized.

Ginny. Was it a little annoying that she wouldn't listen to anybody? Sure, but a girl who shows up, clings to Negan like glue, and doesn't say shit? Literally, me. Character of the century.

Speaking of Ginny, I was LIVING for Negan's single dad era. Yes, king abandon your wife and son to take care of some random girl! He was living his best life.

The plot twist with Ginny was INCREDIBLE!! I was not expecting it at ALL. The fact that he killed her dad?? Bro my jaw was on the floor.

I actually liked the Croat and Negan's dynamic! I think it was funky and deliciously homerotic. However, I hate the Croat's character.

Two: What I DIDNT like.

Nothing made ANY sense, and NOTHING was explained. I get that Maggie was in New Babylon to find Negan but why was HE there? Last I checked nobody banished him from the Commonwealth. And where even IS this place? It seemed to be like Pennsylvania, New Jersey but still. Also, how did Maggie know he was there? Did she airtag him?? It made no sense.

The Croat was a TOTAL retcon. He made NO sense in the established canon. Let me explain:

3 a) I get NEGAN being upset that the Croat tortured a girl because his whole thing was no harming kids, but SIMON?? Bro you killed every boy over the age of ten at Oceanside and slaughtered all those garbage people, why are you on a high horse NOW??

3 b) If Negan could recognize that the Croat was too much of a wild card and needed to be dealt with, then why the HELL did he keep Simon around? Because Simon did MUCH worse.

3 c) The girl whom the Croat tortured was a scout from the Kingdom, but this makes NO sense with what we know about them? I believe the deal was as long as they paid proper tribute they'd leave each other alone, this feels like a major violation of this agreement? Like they were probably wondering what the hell happened to her, surely somebody had to address this at some point.

3 d) The Croat mentioned this story where Negan let him Lucille someone from the "river people." I feel like these people have to be Oceanside, but this is a total retcon either way.

I'll admit as a writer it's hard to keep up with details and I've had to change and retcon a couple of things myself in my stories, but surely they can go and make sure that everything in their spinoff that's a continuation of an already established story makes sense with it.

Anyway, I didn't hate it, but tbh my expectations weren't high. I got one (1) scene of evil jester Negan and a hinted promise that he'd come back in season two, and I'm disappointed. But if he DOES come back I'll have to watch I fear.

[sonic-blue-moon]

Sonic: Blue Moon - Chapter 1 {A Decade Later}

Westopolis. Just like any other city, it is cramped, full of smog, and people desperate to just live and survive from one day to the next. And not just people, but Mobians are here as well. Hedgehogs, foxes, birds, and even some squirrels are here. The population in the city is diverse, unique, and full of life. However, it is not the city we are focusing on, but a certain hedgehog that now has become just like the rest of the city’s population. Average, uninspiring, and only dreaming of becoming something important.

Sonic, or Nic as he calls himself nowadays, is sleeping messily in his bed. His blue quills spiked up in various directions like some Mobian hedgehog equivalent to bedhead. His room is littered with soda and energy drink cans, fast food bags and wrappers, clothes of varying levels of dirtiness strewn all over the floor, and some parts of the furniture, the furniture looking cheap and fragile.

But then the blaring of the alarm, which seems decorated in stickers that were put onto it but ripped off, the glue holding on to it in random bits or covered by other stickers. The loud and obtrusive noise cuts through the silent and warm air of Nic’s bedroom, his ear turning towards the noise.

He slams his gloved hand, the glove being black and almost leathery. He opens his eyes, looking messy and unkempt. He opens his eyes, which are now dark hazel thanks to the contacts he wears every day. He couldn’t stand the green color of his old eyes, after all, they saw what happened all those years ago and he couldn’t stand to have those eyes be reflected at him when he needed to take a good long look at himself.

Nic gets up, going to smooth out all his quills. After that, he goes to shower and then dry himself off.

“Alrighty, all good so far,” Nic says to himself. “Now to get to my job. Hope I’m not late again.”

He dons his work outfit, grabs his wallet, and his keys, and heads out the door. Only to be running straight into the landlord of the building Nic’s apartment was in.

“Nic, a pleasant surprise to see you again.” said the nasal voice of the landlord, sounding like earlier in childhood he was a teacher’s pet.

“Mr. Tredway,” Sonic said bluntly.

Imagine if you will a short man, his face blocky in shape. His eyes close together, colored to be green for the irises. His nose was thin but almost like somebody put a small ramp-shaped building block where his actual nose should have been. His skin is a smooth, pale white…almost like he is deathly ill. His outfit is standard business attire in the most mundane of ways. A beige tie, a light cream-colored dress shirt, and grey dress pants, with a black leather belt running through the loops in said pants. And to boringly wrap it all up with black dress shoes.

“I figured you would be running late to work again, so I’ll make this blunt. For the past few weeks, you have been running behind on rent. You need to catch up on it by the end of the week or…I’ll be forced to evict you and have your belongings dumped outside. Today is Monday, so you got six days to pay, or else.” said Mr. Tredway.

Before Nic could even get a word out, he was already walking away. Leaving him alone.

But no time to dwell on this warning, this sudden deadline to continue to have a roof over his head. He had to rush out and go to his job.

Walking out of the complex he lived in, he headed down to the bus stop. A moment later, the bus shows up and he takes his seat. But soon a kid and his mother show up only to get stopped by the driver, explaining to the pair that the bus is full and they have to wait.

The mother tries to explain that today is their kid’s birthday and this would be the only bus to make it to an event the kid was dying to go see. The driver merely replies by telling them to get out of the bus.

They both get off the bus, and almost nobody seems to have cared. Least of all was the blue hedgehog Nic.

After a while, the bus dropped Nic off close to where Nic was working. He went round to the back, put on his uniform, clocked in, and went to man the register.

“Hey, welcome to Sonic! Can I take your order?”

The day soon ends. He heads back to his apartment from work, rips off his uniform from his body, changes into some pajamas, and…goes to rest in his bed. Feeling tired, yet restless. Sad, but in a muted kind of way. And lost.

“Something has to change soon. And fast,” he mutters mindlessly to himself. He goes to pull out his phone seeing the battery is dead. He goes to charge it, seeing the cable is frayed and almost tearing.

So now, sitting in the dark. He just breaks down silently. Thinking of the life he used to have, how perfect it was, how full of life and energy he used to be. And wanting nothing more than to go back and stop…what happened back then.

The sadness takes the hedgehog as his mind goes to rest, hoping this peace will last forever and that he won’t wake up.

[chrysochroma]

Futurum: Humanity

@febuwhump 2024: Day 9: bees

Rating: Teen And Up

Words: 1,162

Fandom: Original Work

Warnings: Death, bees

next chapter

read on Ao3

Dr. Caide had always dreamed of being an archeologist. Since he was a child, he had been obsessed with dinosaurs and fossils, like many other kids his age. However, unlike most others, he never outgrew that obsession. Not in grade school, where he tirelessly questioned his poor history teacher about fossils, and was never satisfied by his responses. Not in high school, where, as soon as he had gotten his own car, would drive himself to the library after work and spend hours scanning through old textbooks for tidbits of more information. Not in college, where he would stow away a few dollars from each paycheck, patiently saving until he had enough to buy himself a ticket into the archeological museum in the city. Not in university, where he spent countless nights awake at his desk, either studying for his anthropology exams or simply out of pure interest in whatever he was researching. Definitely not on his first dig site, where he was almost jumping out of his skin with excitement, wanting nothing but to find something new. That obsession never left him, even as sat, cross legged in the ruins of his lab, the bodies of his only two friends lying, still, across the room.

SEVEN FOR A SECRET TO NEVER BE TOLD

I wish that I had been able to send that final report. I wish I could’ve gotten my findings out to the world. However, it is only fair that it would end like this. A lifetime of curiosity felled by the same thing it sought.

When I had taken this job, I didn’t think that there was any way it could’ve ended like this. It was just another job, same as the others. I was still excited, as I had been with every previous job and would’ve continued to be on any future jobs. I was still interested, though, regardless of the situation.

I never figured out exactly what happened. Everything seemed normal–of course it did–but I doubt that it was of pure coincidence. I did something to make this happen, and so, to Amelia and Oliver, I am sorry.

I had just uncovered what appeared to be a simple honeybee encased in amber. Upon further inspection, however, I noticed the more elongated, golden colored abdomen it had, separating it from what most other bees looked like. I didn’t know much about bees, but everything was worth a bit more research, so I decided to free it from the amber, in an attempt to study it further. I was careful about it, as I always was. It was a long, tedious process, but after an hour or two I broke through the hard amber shell. Immediately after, an almost sickeningly sweet aroma seemed to pour out of the amber, maybe out of the bee itself. It dispersed into the air after a couple minutes, and I decided to ignore it. That was probably what caused it, wasn’t it?

Just a few minutes after that, vibrations started to come up from the ground beneath our checkerboard tiled floor. They became harder and harder to ignore as they turned into trembles, shaking the whole building. Then, the ground underneath the foundations of our lab completely gave out—disappeared, almost. The impact tore me away from my work, and I looked up from my desk to see thousands of little black dots pour into the room, covering almost everything.

The room started to heat up, quickly getting to the point where it was almost uncomfortable to be in. The little light that was able to make it in through the windows was golden, and it seemed to dim with each passing second. Then, the windows shattered inwards, spraying broken glass over the three of us. I saw Oliver and Amelia shield themselves with their arms to avoid getting cut. Thick, amber like liquid oozed in through the broken windows, pouring onto the floor. It left a thick trail in its wake like glue or molasses.

The air continued to heat up, impossibly so. The room swarmed with little insects, which I could now identify as honey bees. Here to protect their queen, I supposed.

Amelia stood, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut in an effort to prevent any bugs from flying inside. Oliver scooted back behind a desk and pulled his knees up to his chest, wincing as dozens of bees were crushed by his movements. I moved back too, preparing myself for whatever Amelia was planning. She stepped forward, her skin almost covered in bees, sweat dripping from her brow.

More amber liquid flooded into the room, filling the room up to their knees. It started to leak in through the ceiling, too, dripping down the walls and onto the floor. It was grueling to try and move in—it seemed to suck you further into the puddle the more you tried to pull away. Sweat was dripping off of all of our faces, but it seemed hot enough to evaporate as soon as it left our skin. It felt as if all of the moisture was getting boiled out of my body, and my lungs and throat were achingly dry.

Amelia trudged her way through the amber, which was now at her mid-thigh, eyes seemingly locked on the oxygen canister just a few yards away. But then, before she could get there, the metal of the canister creaked, the pressure inside it rapidly increasing due to the heat. The canister burst, exploding into a wave of pure oxygen. The force of the air forced the amber back, making somewhat of a bubble, but it also threw Amelia back. Her shoulder hit the desk behind her with a crack, and her head whipped back before she fell into the amber.

“Am-!” Oliver started to yell, but was cut off as insects swarmed into his mouth. He started to cough, forcing some of the bees out of his throat, but letting more in.

It seemed that the amber substance was starting to harden already. Hundreds of the insects were stuck to the amber of the bubble’s walls, their wings buzzing, but unable to free themselves. Still, the air seemed to fry us alive.

Amelia lay unconscious, across the room, her body covered in amber and insects. Bees spewed out of Oliver’s mouth as he furiously coughed in an attempt to keep them out of his lungs. I sat against the wall, legs crossed, slowly being cooked alive. We were drowning in heat, and in bees, and in amber, but my mind was elsewhere.

Seconds seemed to pass like minutes as my flesh felt like it was melting off my bones. I coughed so weakly it was barely audible, just trying to feel something in my lungs other than dry, scorching heat. I exhaled.

Slowly, one by one, the bees dropped from the sky. It took weeks, but eventually everything in that room was dead, all left to fossilize together.