#seriously music is a massive part of my practice

[folanoflimbo]

do you have a favourite artist? if not, how about your favourite song or album? you don't have to pick strictly by the way! curious about your music taste <3

This is such a tough question lmao, thanks for the ask tho! Love talking abt music

The early-20's art degree white dude that i am compels me to say Radiohead, since In Rainbows is easily one of my favourite albums of all time.

Ball Park Music are home-town heroes (shout outs to Brisbane), I'm pretty sure they've never made a bad record and they were my first ever concert.

I'm always going to be in love with Black Country, New Roads' first two records and their jerky poetry-post punk. Same thing with Do Nothing, who i get to flex hipster points on since I've been listening to them since their first EP.

Open Mike Eagle is a rapper i really love, smart n funny, his record Anime, Trauma and Divorce is so amazing.

There are so, so many more lmao, I could go all day. Thanks again for the ask! <3

[vinvantae]

heyyy! sorry if this request is vague but i lack your creative genius so how about the grid x reader with forced proximity (like the two being in a situation where they have to be really close outside of their respective wishes not noncon!). if not all drivers, then maybe just Charles, Lewis and Fernando? thanks love!

I am sooooooo sorry this took so long 😭 I’ve been mega busy lately and haven’t had the time to really sit down and write. Hope you enjoy regardless x

Lewis

“There’s no way this is actually happening right now.”

You stared down at the door handle that was currently laying in your palm, no longer attached to the door. Lewis quirked a brow and plucked it from your hand, turning it over in his a few times.

“I did tell them it was coming loose, didn’t realise it was this close to falling off.” He chuckled softly. “Cosy in here isn’t it?”

The room itself wasn’t that small, but now you had no escape - the walls suddenly felt like they were pressing against you. “Why do we even have this room?”

“I think Bono called it a panic room… apparently, just our luck, it’s also soundproof.”

You groaned and flopped onto the small loveseat that was tucked against the wall - letting your eyes cast around the room. “Have you-“

“Text someone? Yeah. They’re trying to find a way in.” His voice was soft as he sat beside you, a strong hand coming to rest on your knee - the heat immoderately rushing to your cheeks.

You’d had a massive crush on Lewis since the day you’d met - but he was levels and levels above you at Mercedes. You were but a simple social media admin, something he personally opted to not take part in very often so your paths didn’t cross often and when they did you found yourself feeling like a giggly teenager.

You could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he studied you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.

“…hey uh, feel free to report me to HR if this crosses some major boundary but I never really get to speak to you alone.” He was fully facing you now, his hand still pressed against your knee - thumb brushing across the black fabric of your work trousers. “You fancy getting dinner sometime or something? I’ve seen you around a lot and I just… I honestly can’t get you out of my head.”

“M-Me? Seriously?” You laughed, practically flooded with disbelief. “You’re Lewis Hamilton.”

He smirked. “Yeah, and you’re you… I’d really like to get to know you outside of this world, no Mercedes branding attached. I already like what I do know, I’d like to see more.”

Your eyes flickered across his face for a moment, trying to read him - and he seemed nothing but genuine. You gave him a cautious nod and his face lit up, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“We’re going to have a blast, trust me.” His grin lit up the room.

Before you could speak again there was a frantic knock on the door. “We’re about to take the hinges off! Stand back please!”

“All clear.” Lewis called back, before giving your hand a squeeze. “Ready to get back out there?”

You looked down at your entwined hands and smiled softly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Charles

Their music was quiet now, just softly playing in the background as Kika giggled - her boyfriend twirling her into his arms, a loving smile on his face. When she had insisted on hosting his birthday party at your shared apartment, you forgot to consider who one of Pierre’s best friends was, a man you loathed. And now, as the night rolled on and all of the other guests had filtered out - it was just the four of you left and whilst Pierre and Kika were still enjoying their tipsy states, you and Charles were as stiff as boards, sat as far apart from each other as possible.

Your eyes followed Kika as she stepped away from Pierre, circling the coffee table to approach you, manicured hands landing on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “We’re going to bed… you gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile, one she was too inebriated to decipher. “I’m not tired, I’ll tidy up a bit.”

“Oh ‘miga. Don’t stay up too late.” She pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple before leading Pierre away, practically purring.

You rolled your eyes, still not giving the man beside you any attention as you stood up - collecting some cups from the table but as he started clearing the coffee table beside you, you couldn’t help but frown.

“You can go home, Charles.” You grumbled. “You don’t live here, y’know. It’s my mess to clear up.”

“Did Pierre not tell you?” He patted the back of the sofa. “This bad boy is my bed tonight.”

“…he did not. Well, I don’t want to keep you up, so I’ll clean tomorrow or something.”

He practically snorted out a laugh. “I don’t want to sleep in this mess either so, let’s just make it quick yeah?”

The two of you moved around each other quietly - you’d met through your best friends and very quickly decided that you didn’t get on. He was pretty and he knew it - he always had some stunning girl draped over his arm; at first you were just annoyed, just as you got to know her, like her even, he’d bin her off for a new model. He just didn’t know the meaning of the word loyalty.

“You uh, still with… uh Colette was it?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “She wanted something more serious, so no,”

Charles watched you roll your eyes as you shoved a paper cup into the bin bag in your hand.

“What’s it to you anyway? Jealous?” He smirked, throwing a balled up napkin in your direction.

“No. I just don’t understand why you hate commitment so much.” You scoffed. “You always find the loveliest girls and then-“

“I don’t hate commitment. I’ve just not found a girl who challenges me.” His voice was quieter with his admission. “They all will literally just agree with everything and anything I say just because they’re desperate to keep me happy… that’s just not… I don’t want that.”

The silence was heavy but you didn’t dare move, especially as he walked around the coffee table towards you - bin bags long forgotten as he gently took your biceps in his hands.

“I… I know you don’t like me… I don’t blame you.” He sighed softly, letting his hands slowly cascade down your arms until his hands finally found yours, his lips curving into a shy smile when you didn’t pull away. “But I like the way you call me out on my shit, and you make me want to be better.”

“Charles…” You felt breathless. “I don’t want to be the reason you treat women right, you should do that because it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” A soft huff escaped him. “Can we at least maybe start over? Friends?”

Your eyes studied his face - almost as if you were seeing him for the very first time. The way his green eyes still seemed bright under the dim lights of the floor lamps, the way his lips were such a pretty shade of pink… shit.

“Depends… would friends do this?”

Charles stumbled back a little as you kissed him, hands quickly finding purchase on your hips. He groaned as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

Oh he was fucked.

Fernando

You don’t think you could be pressed any further against the side of the van if you tried - Fernando’s manspreading had made sure of that. The two of you had somehow ended up in the back together, the third seat home to camera equipment as per the team’s request. It was supposed to be a quick trip, 20 minutes tops, but the roads were completely gridlocked so you found yourself stuck in the Spaniard’s company for a lot longer than you’d planned.

“Oh my god, Fernando.” You hissed, yanking the hem of your jacket out from under his thigh as he shifted. “Do you want to take up any more of my seat?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a small smirk. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “No you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

A soft huff left your lips, turning away from him to look out the window - noticing the view hadn’t shifted even a little since you last checked. You groaned. “Have we moved at all?”

“Sorry! It’s completely at a standstill, looks like it’s going to be a while!” The driver called back from the front, sending you an apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror.

Fernando couldn’t help but notice your demeanour shift, fully slumped in your seat at this point - a petulant frown on your face. He always thought you were pretty, but you seemed to have a vendetta against him since day one despite his best intentions. And after a while he just gave him, treating you with the same sass you threw at him.

“Do you want to lighten up a touch, cariño” He teased, leaning a little so he could catch your eye. “This car ride is already going to be bad enough without your attitude.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not exactly my favourite person to be around.”

“And why is that? Hmm?” His voice was patronising, condescending almost, and it made you want to smack him upside the head - but you’d definitely get fired. “Did I forget your birthday or something?”

He was surprised by the dejected sigh that left your lips, your eyes almost wet when you looked up at him. “…You’ve just always made me feel like a dumb kid. I know how to do my job. I’m smart, I’m capable. I’m not even that young! But god forbid I do anything myself. Let me move that for you. I’ve got that. Oh no, I’ll do it myself.”

“You think I did all that because I thought you were incapable?” He had to hold back the laugh of disbelief. “Cariño , that was just me being a gentleman… I was trying to be courteous, to impress you.”

Your cheeks heated. “Impress me?”

“Well, yeah.” This time he laughed softly. “You said it yourself, you’re smart, you’re capable… and, forgive me, you’re very beautiful. I never meant to cause upset or make you think I thought little of you.”

You felt beyond embarrassed - this whole time he was just being nice and you had automatically assumed he was looking down on you.

“…want to start over?” Your voice timid, unable to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I’d like that.” He held his hand out. “Hi, I’m Fernando.”

It was your turn to laugh as you took his hand in yours, his skin warm against yours as you gave it a firm shake - introducing yourself to him. His gaze was different as he looked at you now, his dark eyes no longer full of distaste but something new.

And you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

[callsign-mayhem]

i'm with the band (part 3)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female!Reader & Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader (final pairing to be revealed at the end...) Word count: 8.2k CW: Use of Y/N; the reader is kinda alternative

You discover that your best friend Bob can play the drums, and since you have some musical gifts of your own, you decide to start a navy band. It's supposed to be a bit of harmless fun, but what happens when lines get blurred between you and Bob, feelings come to the surface, and a certain Rooster gets jealous?

This is a multi-part fic.

Part one Part two

Bradley had no problem with Mondays. In fact, he would go so far as to say he enjoyed them. This was primarily because you brought coffee and doughnuts to work for the whole squad to share. 

It had started a few weeks into your permanent station on North Island, and you’d done it every Monday since. 

Bradley had gone so far as to arrive early for work that day. So early, he was there before you. When you walked into the meeting room—a doughnut tray in your arms and eight coffees in holders precariously balanced on top—he was reclining comfortably in one of the seats. When he realised how much you were carrying, he jumped up. 

‘Bradley!’ You exclaimed, surprised. ‘What are you doing here so early?’

He took the coffees so you could set the doughnuts down without spilling them.

‘Oh, you know. Early bird catches the worm and all that.’ He said flippantly, flashing you a lazy grin.

What he really meant was, ‘early bird catches Y/N Y/L/N before everyone else arrives and steals her attention.’ 

You put your hands on your hips—those damn hips, all he could think about was the sight of them in that dress from dinner a couple of weeks ago. 

‘Well, lucky you because you get the first pick of the doughnuts and the coffee while it’s still piping hot.’  You beamed, although, for some reason, unbeknownst to Bradley, you couldn’t quite meet his eye. 

‘You’re so sweet, Y/CS.’ He grinned. 

‘Well, thanks.’ You smiled, blushing profusely. God, you were adorable. 

He couldn’t tell if it was awkwardness, shyness, or if you were upset about something, but he knew something wasn’t quite right. He finally had you all to himself, and you couldn’t even look at him. Currently, you were busying yourself putting sugars in a few cups (because you knew how everyone liked their coffees), replacing the lids and writing an initial on the top so you wouldn’t forget which was which. 

‘You okay, sweetheart?’ Bradley asked, flipping open the doughnut box and selecting one at random. 

He scanned your face for answers, but you gave nothing away. 

‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ you replied. ‘Just exhausted.’ 

Bradley wasn’t convinced, but he could tell you weren’t up for discussing whatever was wrong. Reluctantly, he let it slide and bit into his doughnut—chocolate sprinkles and icing, Nutella all the way through. 

He was working out the best way to ask you to dinner (ballsy) when the door to the break room swung open, smashing into the wall behind it. Both of you jumped all the way out of your skin.

‘Jesus Christ.’ You hissed, spinning around. 

It was Mickey. Obviously. 

‘Sorry.’ He smiled sheepishly. 

‘Very on-brand entrance.’ You muttered.

Mickey practically skipped over to the table, eyes wide at the sight of the massive doughnut box. 

‘What have we got this week?’ He asked.

‘One of everything.’ You told him. ‘Although, I think the lady put an extra cinnamon swirl in there.’

Mickey turned his nose up. ‘No thanks. Nutella?’

Your eyes flickered over to Bradley, who had a mouthful of doughnut and chocolate sprinkles stuck in his moustache. He froze as Mickey followed your line of sight. 

‘Seriously, Rooster?!’ He exclaimed. ‘You know they’re my favourite!’

Bradley shrugged. ‘Should’ve got here earlier like I did.’ 

Mickey cocked a brow. ‘Yeah, ‘cause that’s why you’re here before everyone else.’

Bradley could’ve happily rammed the rest of his doughnut in Mickey’s mouth for that remark, but he refrained. Suddenly, your cup of coffee had gotten really interesting. 

Thankfully, Javy and Reuben breezed in. Bradley admired their natural confidence. They were unruffled, always the calmest people in the room. Bradley only pretended to be the calmest person in the room. He was a phoney, thoughts constantly swirling around inside his head. 

‘Good mornin’.’ Reuben greeted. 

You handed him his coffee—two sugars and a splash of creamer—with a smile that made Bradley want to put his fist through something. 

‘Coffee for Payback.’ You said, reaching over to grab Javy’s. ‘And coffee for Coyote.’ 

Javy put his arm around your shoulder, and you rested your head on his chest for a second. ‘Thanks, Y/CS. You’re the best.’

Bradley ground his teeth together. He knew his jealousy was misplaced, but there it was, rearing its ugly, green head anyway. 

Nat, Bob and Jake were the last to arrive. It was almost time to get out onto the runway. Honestly, Bradley was looking forward to it. He needed to think about something other than you, which he found himself needing a lot recently. 

Now that Bob was here, Bradley’s chances of getting your attention were slim to none. You were perched on the edge of the table, chatting animatedly with your best friend who stood in front of you. Bradley almost scoffed out loud. Any closer, he’d be on your lap. 

Unfortunately, Mickey was prattling on at Bradley, so he only heard snippets of your conversation.

‘—practise tonight.’

‘Fletch is bringing—’

‘—torn between Bon Jovi and—’

Bradley had so many questions and nobody to get answers from. Did you mean Fletcher Adams? Bradley knew he only had one option, which didn’t seem appealing. He knew he was about to open himself up for a lot of teasing and questioning, but his curiosity burned within him. He just had to know. 

On the way out to the hangar, Bradley pulled Natasha aside. 

‘Walk with me?’ He asked, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. 

Natasha’s face crumpled in confusion. ‘Okay, weirdo?’

Bradley took a deep breath. ‘Do you know if Y/N is friends with Fletcher Adams?’

‘Yes,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘So is Bob.’

‘What are they doing with that ass, and what does any of it have to do with Jon Bon fucking Jovi?’ 

Natasha snickered, only aggravating Bradley more. ‘The real question you should ask is what it has to do with you.’

Bradley couldn’t take it anymore. ‘You know what.’ He snapped.

‘Ah, so you’ve finally seen the light, have you? Not lying to yourself anymore?’ She was almost giddy with this particular turn of events.

‘Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or not?’

Nat sighed. ‘I’ll tell you, but you won’t like it. And you can’t mention it to anyone.’

Bradley’s insides twisted. He was imagining you and Fletcher fucking Adams as a couple, or worse, you and Bob. He almost wanted to close his eyes for the devastating blow he was sure was coming. 

‘They’re in a band together. Y/N and Bob started it, Fletch is on guitar, and they’ve got Elliot Green from air and space ops on bass.’

Well, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

‘What?’ 

‘I know. Think they’ve landed themselves a gig, too.’ 

Bradley’s head was spinning. This was so far outside the realm of what he’d been anticipating that he felt disorientated. He hadn’t even realised that he’d stopped in his tracks until Nat stopped, too.

‘You good, Bradshaw?’ She asked, all the lightheartedness gone from her voice.

‘Erm, yeah. I’m good.’

‘I told her she should’ve asked you.’ Nat told him, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. ‘But she thought you’d find it lame. Didn’t think you’d want any part of it.’ 

Bradley felt as though he’d been slapped. ‘Are you serious? Why the fuck would she think that?’

‘I told her the same thing. Too late now, I guess.’

‘Yeah.’ Bradley said, swallowing thickly. ‘I guess it is.’ 

You were practically drooling watching Bob drumming to ‘Animal I Have Become’ by Three Days Grace. As Elliot had said, the song had a delicious bassline, and you and Fletch were breaking in your new guitar pedals. It had been your idea to learn this song, partly because it was one of your favourites and partly because you knew it would get people moshing.

At your gig. 

It still hadn’t sunk in yet. Between the thought of playing in front of people, Bob’s muscles in that t-shirt, and Bradley calling you sweetheart earlier, you had no idea how you were managing to focus on singing and playing guitar.

By the time you reached the song's end, you were ready for a break.

‘Shall we take five?’ You asked breathlessly. 

Elliot and Fletch both agreed. You didn’t wait for Bob’s response before heading into the house. He kept drinks in the mini-fridge, but you needed a change of scenery. 

In the main fridge, you found a four-pack of your favourite Monster, which Bob always kept on standby. This reminder was not helping you to take your mind off things. You cracked one open and leaned against the counter, taking a few deep breaths with your eyes closed. 

Your conversation with Nat felt like it had taken place years ago, yet it was all you thought about. Bradley or Bob? You still didn’t fully believe that Bradley even liked you. 

That would be insane, right?

‘Y/N?’ Bob was standing in the doorway, frowning. ‘Are you alright?’ 

You tipped your head back and sighed. ‘Just got a lot on my mind. I’ll be okay.’

‘You wanna talk about it?’ He asked, taking a few steps closer. 

He wasn’t wearing glasses because he opted for contacts when drumming, and he wore a black Vans baseball cap over his sandy hair. Sweat glistened on the side of his neck, and his t-shirt clung to his body in all the right places. You dragged your hand over your mouth and tried not to release the unholy sound that was climbing up your throat. 

‘No.’ You said, shaking your head for good measure. ‘Let’s just get back to it.’

He looked extremely concerned. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ 

You headed back into the garage, Bob close behind you. 

Elliot and Fletcher sat on the floor, sheets of music spread out around them and cans of coke in their hands. The band had met for practise every night this week after work. It was Thursday, and you’d put together half a setlist already. You knew deciding on the rest of the songs wouldn't be difficult, so everything should have been perfect.

The problem was nobody could come up with a name for the band. 

It had been grating on all four of you for weeks, and you didn’t seem any closer to a solution. All of you were just hoping that a name would fall out of the sky in time for your gig at The Hideout. 

‘Ready to pick it back up?’ You asked.

Fletcher wordlessly held up a sheet of music, which you took. 

You scoffed. ‘You can’t be serious.’ 

Elliot looked up at you, doe-eyes wide behind his glasses. ‘Come on, Y/N. You know it would be awesome.’

‘And your voice is fucking killer.’ Fletcher added. ‘You could totally pull this off.’

You looked at both of them in disbelief. ‘I really don’t think I could.’

Bob appeared next to you. He somehow still smelled of freshly laundered cotton and bergamot, which baffled you since he was quite literally dripping with sweat. 

He took the sheet of music from you. ‘I don’t think I know this song. I know the band, not the song.’

You knew it quite well. ‘I Like It Heavy’ by Halestorm was one of the songs you played when getting ready for a night out or in the gym to hype yourself up. To put it simply, it made you feel like a badass. Fletcher connected his phone to the speaker and found the song so Bob could hear it. 

You stood awkwardly with your drink, imagining you singing this in front of people and imagining singing it in front of the likes of Jake and Javy. And Bradley. Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from mouthing the words and bopping your head. 

When the song ended, your three bandmates were staring at you expectantly. 

‘What?’ 

‘You already know every word.’ Elliot pointed out. 

You chanced a look at Bob, who was smirking. Yes, that’s right. Bobby Floyd was fucking smirking. 

‘I think we should add it to the setlist.’ He said.

And by God, who were you to deny him when he was standing there looking like that?

‘Fine.’ You relented. 

Bob sat back down at his drumset, and you downed the rest of your drink. The plan was to practise ‘Animal I Have Become’ one last time, but Elliot and Fletcher apparently had other ideas.

‘There’s an instrumental version on YouTube.’ Elliot said slyly. 

‘And?’ You asked, even though you knew what they were getting at. 

‘Sing it for us.’

Perhaps drinking an energy drink hadn’t been your brightest idea. The nerves you felt at the thought of singing this song were suddenly unbearable. Really, you didn’t know why. It was just a song. Sure, it was a gutsy song and would require you to push your voice to the breaking limit, but didn’t you do that anyway?

Fletcher took your silence as his cue to play the song. You stood before your microphone and closed your eyes, envisioning your most confident version of yourself. You took another deep breath.

And then you sang. 

You left your body for the entire length of the song. As much as it had terrified you at first, singing a Halestorm song felt as amazing as listening to one. In a way, it had purged you of a lot of negative feelings. Almost like you’d been exorcised. 

When the song ended and you opened your eyes, Elliot and Fletcher stood up. They clapped, clearly impressed. As much as you valued their opinions, it wasn’t their reactions you so desperately sought. 

Bob gazed up at you from behind his drum set. His eyes weren’t starry like when he heard you sing, play guitar, or breathe; they were dark, all pupil. You knew lust when you saw it. It wasn’t a look you’d ever seen on your best friend before.

It also wasn’t something you planned on forgetting anytime soon. 

Bob Floyd had never put this much effort into getting ready before. As he stood in front of his open closet, debating between two pairs of Carhartt pants, he wondered how women did this daily. And he didn’t mean it misogynistically. In fact, his first experience with outfit anxiety had given him even more respect for women because, boy, he was stressed.

And it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. Bob felt a little stupid that he was getting so worked up. The Dagger Squad had been on plenty of nights out. You’d seen him in navy uniform, flight suits, sweat gym clothes, pyjamas—everything, really. So why was he worried now? 

The Dagger Squad hadn’t been on an outing since Juniper and Ivy, and earlier that day, Javy and Jake had suggested a night out. A real night out, they’d called it. Ultimately, this meant pre-drinks at The Hard Deck and then a visit to the newest nightclub that had opened Downtown. 

Bob hated nightclubs. He’d step foot in maybe two his entire life, and both experiences had been memorable for all the wrong reasons. He was only going because you were going. And because Bradley was going.

It would be a cold day in hell when Bob let you go to a nightclub with Bradley Bradshaw without him. 

In the end, he didn’t choose either of the pairs of pants he was going to wear. He went with black Dickies jeans, black Converse, a Smiths t-shirt and a black and white flannel to go over the top. He’d decided to wear contacts tonight because he felt his glasses messed with the vibe he had going on. He also threw on a baseball cap for good measure because wearing one made him feel less exposed. 

He patted some Bleu de Chanel onto the sides of his neck and headed out the door. Sadly, he wasn’t picking you up tonight. You’d gone over to Nat’s house to get ready, and it was ‘girls only.’ Saying this, Bob wouldn’t be surprised if his two favourite ladies showed up with Mickey in tow. 

He headed straight for the bar when he arrived at The Hard Deck. It was a busy night, and he waited patiently for ten minutes before being served.

‘Hey, Pen.’ He greeted. 

‘Lieutenant Floyd.’ Penny smiled. ‘You look handsome tonight.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘Corona Extra?’ She asked, already reaching into the bottle fridge behind her.

‘Actually, Penny, can I get a Maker’s Mark? On the rocks.’

Penny blinked. ‘Bourbon?’

Bob flushed. ‘I’m partial to one from time to time.’ 

Penny scooped some ice into a whiskey glass and grabbed the bottle. It was way more than a double shot, but that was Penny all over. She treated The Daggers like family. 

‘On the house, Bob.’ She grinned. 

‘Thank you, Penny.’

‘A few of the guys are at your usual table.’ She told him. ‘And before you ask, she’s not here yet.’

Bob didn’t know how to respond to that, so he thanked Penny and was on his way.

Jake, Javy, Mickey, and Reuben were all sitting in their usual corner. When Jake saw Bob approaching, he wolf-whistled, causing everyone else to stop their conversation and look too. Bob hated this kind of attention and didn’t know what he’d done to earn it. It wasn’t like they’d never seen him out of uniform before.

‘Turns out our baby on board isn’t much of a baby after all.’ Jake said.

Mickey was squinting at Bob in a way that made him uncomfortable. ‘There’s something different about you, Bobby.’

‘The hat?’ Javy offered.

Reuben sipped his beer. ‘It’s the glasses.’

Mickey’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. ‘Hey, that’s it! I’ve never really seen you without them.’

Bob’s neck and cheeks suddenly felt extremely hot. He wished somebody would change the subject. ‘Where’s Rooster?’

‘He’s picking the girls up.’ Jake told him. ‘Phoenix’s place is like, a block away from his.’

Bob smiled pleasantly. ‘Is it?’

‘You never been there?’ Javy asked. 

‘Not to Rooster’s place, no.’

‘Well, they should be here any minute.’

Bob felt like he’d missed his mark big time. He sipped his bourbon, and Reuben eyed him curiously, like the all-seeing, omnipresent being that he was.

‘Not like you, Floyd.’

‘I wish people would stop saying shit like that.’ Bob snapped.

Reuben recoiled. ‘Damn. Sorry, man. Just an observation.’

‘No,’ Bob said, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry. That was out of line.’

‘Everything alright with you?’

‘Everything’s fine.’ 

Luckily, Bob didn’t have much time to feel like an idiot.

‘Heyyyyyy! There they are!’ Javy called, standing up.

Bob turned around to see Bradley leading both you and Nat towards the table with a hand on the small of your back. Once he’d finished being pissed off about this, he took in your appearance. Dark flared jeans, cherry-red platform Docs, a white tank top and a deep red leather jacket to match. Your hair was bouncy, like an 80s rock star, and you were wearing dark red lipstick. 

‘Who is this absolute vision?!’ Mickey yelled. 

Jake and Javy both wolf-whistled for the second time that night.

Bob knocked the rest of his drink back. 

‘Well, you said it was a real night out.’ You reminded them. ‘So I pulled out all the stops.’ 

Jake looked Natasha up and down. Black skinny jeans with rips in the knees, cropped white tank, leather jacket with fringe, black cowboy boots—it was hard to miss the way Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

‘And Phoenix. You wear those boots for me?’

Nat rolled her eyes. ‘In your dreams, Bagman.’

‘Well, if you feel like stepping on anyone later,’ he winked. ‘You know where I am.’

‘Okay! After that weird remark, Y/N and I are going to get some drinks. Anyone want anything?’

The group gave their drinks orders. Much to your surprise, Bob asked you for a bourbon.

‘Maker’s Mark tonight, huh?’ 

You knew him well, and you knew that he only ever drank whiskey when you came to his place for movie nights some weekends or when he was drinking to get drunk. And when he was drinking to get drunk, it was usually because he wanted to be someone else for a while. 

You gave him a look that said, ‘We’ll talk about this later’ before sauntering off to the bar with Nat. This was when Bob noticed that the back pockets of your jeans had big, red stars stitched into them.

All the guys noticed, but none of them said anything. Bradley, however, looked at you like you were something to eat. 

Bob was beginning to get a bad feeling about tonight.

Seriously? How was Bradley supposed to look at anything but your ass in those jeans? Those red stars were basically a sign saying, ‘Look at me.’ He wanted to hate himself for it, but you were just so damn fine. 

He’d intended to spend the night pissed at you, but he wasn’t supposed to let on that he knew about the band. And besides, even if he could, he wouldn’t have been able to stay mad at you. Sure, he was slightly hurt that you hadn’t asked him to join or at least tryout and that you thought he would call you lame, but maybe that was his own fault. Maybe he hadn’t done a good enough job of showing you who he really was, showing you that he wasn’t like the others. He was like you. 

Tonight, he planned to change that. 

Bob already had a bee in his bonnet, that much was obvious. He was drinking neat whiskey, for one, and he’d clearly chosen that outfit thinking it was something you’d find attractive. Bradley had no qualms with Bob Floyd. They were friends; they’d had each other’s backs on the mission (and always would), and Bradley had actually been to a couple of local gigs with Bob since being permanently stationed in San Diego. 

Bradley wouldn’t say that the tension between him and your best friend had started after your impromptu shopping trip—the moment Bradley considered as the start of your friendship. No, the tension was new, and it had only begun in the last few weeks. It was because Bob had finally figured out how he felt about you.

Bradley liked Bob, but if there was a chance in hell you might feel the same way about him as he did about you, Bradley wasn’t going to turn you down for Bob’s sake. 

Sorry, Bobby. 

You and Nat came over, each with a tray of drinks in hand. After handing them out, Natasha took the seat between Bob and Jake, leaving you no choice but to sit next to Bradley.

DING DING DING! FIRST POINT TO BRADLEY BRADSHAW!

Bradley smirked. He could feel Bob’s eyes burning holes into him as he raised his glass, and you clinked yours against it. Bradley knew you and Nat had already had a couple of glasses of wine while you were getting ready. He knew this because you’d been unable to look him in the eye when speaking to him all week, and now you were staring him down. It was almost as if you were making up for lost time and making the most of your courage. 

‘What are we toasting to?’ You asked.

Bradley glanced at your lips. What he wouldn’t give to smear that pretty lipstick, to have it stain the collar of his shirt and the skin underneath. 

‘To us. For making it through another week.’

‘To us.’ 

You sipped your vodka lemonade, eyes never leaving his. Bradley shuddered. 

‘Alright,’ Jake announced. ‘Eclipse opens at eleven, so we’ll head over just before. Don’t wanna be standing in line for hours.’

Everyone seemed happy with this plan. Night clubs weren’t really Bradley’s scene, but he’d find a way to have a good time. If you hadn’t come tonight, though, Bradley definitely wouldn’t have come either.

Mickey, who sat opposite, stole your attention. The two of you started talking about a movie Bradley hadn’t watched, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind that much. He was just happy to listen to you talk. 

It was nearly 10:30 PM when Javy suggested a round of shots to see you until you got to the nightclub. 

‘The last time we got shots, Nat threw up in my rose bushes and Bob had to put us both to bed.’ You recounted while Nat groaned in embarrassment. 

Bradley glanced at Bob, who seemed to be stuck somewhere between a laugh and a wince. Bob caught your eye, and Bradley watched you have an entire conversation just through eye contact. 

There was definitely more to that night than what you’d just said, and you and Bob were now caught up in one of your private, nobody-else-exists moments. 

SHOCKING TURN OF EVENTS AS BOB FLOYD EVENS THE SCORE BY EARNING HIS FIRST POINT OF THE EVENING!

‘I say shots are a great idea.’ Bradley announced. 

Nat—who was on Bradley’s other side—leaned in close to whisper: ‘Why, so you can put her to bed this time?’

Bradley’s mouth twitched, but he refused to give himself away. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Trace.’

Javy and Bradley went to the bar to order eight tequila shots, along with lime wedges and salt. 

‘Shit’s about to get messy.’ Javy remarked as they headed back over to the table.

‘Why’d you say that?’ Bradley asked.

‘Every messy night I’ve ever had has started with tequila.’ 

Bradley tried to shake off the feeling that maybe Javy was right, but even he had to admit that the night felt loaded—heavy like a black stormcloud full of rain. 

‘Not too late to turn back.’ Bradley offered.

‘Yeah,’ Javy chuckled. ‘It is. It’s already in motion.’ 

Back at the table, everyone picked up their shot glasses. 

‘To a messy night.’ Javy toasted, grinning like a madman. 

Everyone downed their shots. You looked at Bradley as you slammed your glass down and picked up your lime wedge, sucking on it desperately. He had no idea where the confidence came from, but instead of putting the salt on his own hand after discarding his own lime, he put it on the back of yours and licked it off in one stripe. 

Shock and mischief danced in the depths of your eyes as you followed suit. 

Did that really just happen? Bradley thought he might pass out. 

The nightclub—Eclipse—was a walkable distance from The Hard Deck. You were almost there when Mickey grabbed your arm, pulling you to the back of the formation. Both Bradley and Bob spared you a cursory glance as you were practically dragged past them. Nat appeared at your other side, eyes almost bulging out of her head. 

‘Y/N.’ She whisper-screamed. ‘What the actual fuck just happened in there?!’

Mickey might as well have rubbed his hands together like an evil villain. 

‘You guys saw?’

‘Uh, yeah?’ Nat was looking at you like you had three heads. ‘Everyone saw.’

Your stomach churned. ‘Everyone?’

‘Well, not Jake and Bob.’ 

You breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Ok, that’s good.’

‘Why? ‘Cause you’re still deciding?’ Mickey asked.

You were starting to hate the person you were becoming. ‘I’m starting to feel like a cheap whore.’ You admitted. Nat and Mickey both laughed, but you were being deadly serious.

‘You’re far from a cheap whore.’ Nat said. ‘You could make six figures working three days a week.’

  Now it was your turn to laugh. God, it felt good to laugh. You loved your friends so much. 

‘Let me put it like this,’ she started, all business now. ‘What you just did with Bradshaw—can you picture doing it with Bob? Does he make you wanna do sexy, daring shit like that?’

You didn’t have a simple answer to this question. You thought of Bob, playing drums, all sweaty and hot. But Bradley didn’t need to be doing anything. Merely breathing, he was sexy. So, did that mean your answer was no?

‘What she’s asking is if looking at Bob, you know…makes your body react.’ Mickey said, winking. 

You and Nat both stared at him vacantly.

‘This honorary girl membership is only gonna get you so far. I’m not revealing all that stuff with you!’ You considered this for a moment. ‘But for the record, it has a few times.’

‘But not as much as Bradley?’ Mickey questioned.

‘Not as much as Bradley.’ You agreed.

‘And do you believe he has a thing for you?’

The man in question had his arm around Reuben’s shoulder. They were walking together, laughing at something Javy was saying in front of them. God, what an amazing thing it would be to be loved by him and to feel his light from all sides.

‘There’s something there, but how serious is he? Would it be a one-time thing?’

Natasha shook her head. ‘You really, really do not know him at all if you think that.’

‘Well,’ you pouted, displeased by the accusation. ‘Maybe I ought to get to know him, then.’

Mickey waggled his eyebrows. ‘Oh yeah? What’s that code for?’

You and Nat groaned in unison. ‘For fuck’s sake, Fanboy.’ 

The line for the club wasn’t long at all, thanks to Jake’s idea to get there slightly early. It had only been open for a month or so, and it still had that shiny, new feel. There were multiple different rooms spanning two floors, but The Daggers opted to stay in the main room—at least for now. Jake, Reuben and Nat went to the bar, leaving everyone else to find a table. It was getting busier by the second, but Mickey was able to snag a booth right next to the dancefloor. 

The booths were C-shaped. You scooted right along to be in the middle, giving you a clear view of the dancefloor. Since you were nowhere near drunk enough to get up and dance yet, you shrugged off your leather jacket and made yourself comfortable. 

Bob slid in next to you, and Bradley came around and sat on your other side. Your belly did a weird flip as you tried to work out who you were supposed to be talking to. Mickey—who was trying so hard not to laugh that he actually looked constipated—clambered in next to Bob. 

‘So,’ he chirped. ‘This is nice, huh?’

You glared at Fanboy, wondering if he was close enough that you could kick him underneath the table. 

‘Perfect.’ You grimaced, voice dripping with acid. 

When Nat came over, she looked at Bob, then at you, and finally at Bradley. Bob was talking to Javy, so he didn’t notice her amused giggle. 

‘Alright,’ Jake announced loudly, his signature smirk plastered to his face. ‘Drinks were two-for-one, and shots were a dollar each! Happy hour!’ 

‘Damn,’ Javy exclaimed. ‘They might as well be giving them out for free!’

There were three trays on your table, carrying sixteen drinks and twenty-four shots. You could feel the hangover you were going to have tomorrow morning already. 

‘That’s…a lot of drinks.’ Mickey pointed out, sounding slightly terrified. 

Jake clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You don’t say.’ 

Nat handed you one of your vodka lemonades, and you took it gratefully, desperate for something to do with your hands. It shouldn’t have felt as awkward as it did sitting between Bob and Bradley, but you knew too much for it to feel normal now. Hell, you felt too much for it to be normal. 

The music—which wasn’t anything you knew—blared loudly enough that the bass pounded in your chest like a second heartbeat. It was warm, warmer, still being sandwiched between two men you had crushes on, and your drink went down far too quickly. When Bradley reached over for his drink—a dark rum and coke—his leg brushed against yours, and you ended up staying that way. It was meaningless contact, but it was enough to make you dizzy. 

‘Alright, let’s get a couple of these shots gone.’ Reuben suggested. ‘If we wanna get a few more drinks while happy hour is still on, we’re gonna need to clear some space.’

The idea of buying more drinks when there were this many on the table already seemed ridiculous, but you knew once everyone got riled up, the ridiculous ideas would sound like the smartest ones. 

Everything was a good idea when The Dagger Squad were out drinking together. 

Whoever had decided on the shots had gone for a pick-n-mix approach. There were Jagerbombs, B-52s, fireballs, sambuca shots, lemon drops and a green one that you vowed not to touch. 

‘What are you gonna have?’ You asked Bradley.

His eyes scanned the table before landing on a Jagerbomb. 

He held one out to you. ‘You want one of these too?’

Shaking your head wildly, you said: ‘Absolutely the fuck not.’

Bradley laughed at your terror. ‘Why?’

‘The last time I drank Jagerbombs was in college, and I woke up with bruises on my face.’ You explained, wincing at the memory.

‘Okay, you’ve gotta give me a little more than that.’ He said.

‘Well, I vaguely remember being upright, and the next minute I was on the floor. I didn’t know I was on the floor until my friend Emily picked me up. She had to flirt with the security guard so we didn’t get kicked out.’

‘I can’t imagine you doing something like that, Y/CS.’ Bradley replied. He seemed to have gotten even closer to you without realising. ‘You’re very reserved.’

‘Not always.’ You winked, feeling bold.

You allowed Bradley to sit in stunned silence for a moment or two while you nudged Bob and asked him to pass you a fireball. He was ever so happy to oblige, even being so bold as to grab one for himself. The two of you downed your shots and grimaced in unison, sending you both into fits of giggles.

‘Not like you to do shots with us, Bobby.’ You said, nudging him playfully. 

Bob offered you a lopsided smile. ‘It’s good to let loose once in a while.’

‘There’s letting loose, and then there’s going off the rails.’ You tried to sound lighthearted, but you were genuinely concerned about his out-of-character behaviour. ‘Neat whiskey and shots are generally considered off the rails for you, Bob.’

Bob huffed. ‘Why does everyone seem to think I’m boring? Or that I’m a kid or something.’

You frowned. ‘Nobody thinks that. It’s not a bad thing that you’re more reserved.’ This was all very troubling. ‘When have you ever needed to get drunk to prove something?’

‘I’m not trying to prove anything.’ He insisted. ‘I just wish people would stop treating me like I’m twelve years old or second-guessing me whenever I do something that’s ‘not like me.’’ 

The two of you appeared to have reached an impasse. 

‘Okay, well, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I was just looking out for you.’ 

‘I can look out for myself just fine.’ 

You knew he didn’t mean it to come out the way it did, but it had, and here you were, pouting. He had never taken that tone with you, never said anything of the sort, and he most certainly hadn’t ever downed two shots in quick succession while you gaped at him like a moron. Before you could come up with a response to his remark, he had turned back to Mickey. 

Alright then. If that was how it was going to be…

‘You know what, Bradley. I think I will have a Jagerbomb.’

Bradley—who had been filming Javy and Reuben’s terrible dancing—cocked an eyebrow sexily.

‘You sure about that, sweetheart?’

And if this didn’t sound like a challenge…

‘Oh yeah, I’m sure.’ 

Bob didn’t know this song. He didn’t know it, and he didn’t like it. What he did like, however, was watching you dance to it. You and Nat were in the middle of the dancefloor with Reuben and Javy, pressed against each other, dancing in a way that he supposed could have been considered sexy. 

Actually, yeah. It was very sexy. 

He hadn’t moved from his spot in the booth. He hadn’t even needed to move when you decided you wanted to get out and dance because you simply climbed right over him. And now he was expected to get on with his life as normal as if you hadn’t been straddling him. Sure, it was brief, but it was still etched into his brain.

Bob wanted to blame his ungentlemanly thoughts on the liquor, but he knew that deep in his subconscious, he’d been thinking about you in this way for a while now. And he’d be damned if there hadn’t been a few occasions where he’d started to believe you were thinking of him in the same way. Band practice the other night was just one example. Of course, there was a high chance that he was making it all up inside his head, but for once, he doubted that. 

He saw the way you looked at him.

But then, there was also the small yet incredibly inconvenient matter of the way you looked at Bradley. 

Bob would be inclined to argue that Bradley had a much better chance than he did. I mean, you’d basically all but confirmed that you saw Bob as someone who needed to be looked out for. Hell, he couldn’t even do a shot without someone asking him if he needed to see a head doctor. 

You weren’t loud and boisterous, and most of the time you felt more comfortable around Bob than anyone else on the planet, but you were still a lot more adventurous than he was. You needed someone who could do both—quiet, but audacious when he wanted to be.

And, that was just Rooster all over, wasn’t it? 

‘No Scrubs’ by TLC came on and you and Nat went wild in the way girls do when a song they like comes on when they’re drunk. Bob couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. You were singing the lyrics at each other at first, but then—much to everyone’s amusement—you and Nat started singing them at Jake. 

‘'Cause I'm looking like class, and he's looking like trash, can't get with a deadbeat ass!’

To be fair to Jake, he stood and took it like a man. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the attention, especially where Nat was concerned. Bob was starting to think there was something behind their friendly rivalry, but neither of them would ever admit it. 

When the song ended, you were giddy and out of breath. Mickey was now on the dancefloor with Javy and Reuben, so there was an empty spot next to Bob. You took it, reaching for your next drink.

‘You good?’ He asked.

‘Perfect. I’m not gonna ask you if you’re good, because you don’t need me looking out for you.’ You said indignantly. 

Bob rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, now.’ 

As you sipped your drink, you watched him. Impressively, you drank half of it in one go, and then you reached up and took his hat off. He felt his hair stick up with static.

‘What are you doing?’ He asked, half expecting you to put it on.

‘This…’ 

You turned the hat around and put it on him backwards, adjusting it with narrowed eyes, trying to get straight. 

When you were done, you sat back and admired your handiwork proudly. 

‘There.’ You grinned. ‘Much better.’

‘And the purpose of that was…’

‘I like a guy in a backwards hat.’ You shrugged.

And with that, you were back off to the dancefloor with Nat. 

It had just gone midnight. Bradley was positively buzzed from all the shots he’d had, but he didn’t want to get too drunk. Why would he want to forget such an amazing night, or miss it while it was still happening because he was paralytic drunk? The idea didn’t appeal to him, so he’d been drinking water for the last half hour. 

‘Bradshaw!’ Jake yelled from across the table. ‘Put that down!’

‘No can do. I don’t feel like being carried home tonight, Seresin.’ 

Jake smirked knowingly. ‘Nah, you wanna be the one doin’ the carryin’, don’t ya.’ 

Hangman’s southern accent always got thicker when he was drunk, a fact that Phoenix found extremely endearing. Earlier, she’d asked him to say loads of different sentences, just so she could hear it. Bradley had every intention of asking her about this when they were sober.

Bradley raised his glass of ice water in response to what Jake had said, mainly for Bob’s sake. He was starting to feel a bit bad for the guy, but to be fair to him, you kept giving him reasons to believe he had a chance. The thing with the hat? What the fuck was that? For all Bradley knew, maybe Bob did have a chance, and he’d been reading this whole thing wrong. 

You and Nat were supposed to be getting more drinks, but you seemed to have disappeared. Mickey was nowhere to be seen as well. Lately, it seemed like the three of you were in on something that nobody else was privy too. 

Bradley made the excuse that he needed the bathroom, and instead went searching for you. Eclipse had multiple different rooms and bars, including a lounge where you could go to chill and cool off for a while. You weren’t in there, you weren’t outside on the patio, and you weren’t in the other room on the bottom floor which was playing 80’s hits. The vibes and the music in there seemed much better, and he made a mental note to check it out later. Maybe he’d take you with him and get you away from the rest of The Daggers. 

Bradley climbed the stairs to the second floor, narrowly avoiding a couple making out against the wall. Up here it was open plan, a big bar against the far wall, and a white dancefloor with little lights peppered across it. The outside edges were lined with white leather benches with pillows scattered across them, and there were candles burning in glass sconces on the walls above. It was as though he’d walked into an entirely different club. 

Up here, the DJ was playing Lana Del Ray, and you and Nat were in the middle of the dance floor (obviously), swaying along and singing. Mickey was at the bar, chatting up a girl, so Bradley didn’t go over to him. He indulged himself and watched you move for a while, hypnotised by the mere sight of you. The lights made you look ethereal. 

He’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad in all his life. Bradley was seriously debating interrupting you, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it, to the entrancing sight in front of him. 

Turns out, he didn’t need to. Nat had her back to him and you were in front of her whispering something into her ear when you spotted him. You started smirking while you finished whatever you were saying to Nat. Then, you kissed her cheek and you both started heading over to him. 

Nat didn’t stop, she walked straight past him towards the stairs, patting his shoulder as she walked past. It felt like a ‘Go get ‘em tiger’ kind of gesture. 

Bradley looked down at your face. You were gazing up at him, blinking prettily. How was it possible for someone to make blinking pretty? Your cheeks were flushed and you were smiling dopily at him. Clearly, the shots had hit you too. 

But it was the red lipstick he couldn’t get past. 

He reached up and brushed your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and you nuzzled your face into his palm. The moment was full of possibility. It was as if time had stopped, and as cliche as it sounded, like nobody else existed except from you and Bradley. He liked it this way, wished it was like this all the time. 

The song faded, and ‘Dancing In The Moonlight,’ started. Bradley leaned down to tell you how much he loved this song, and in response you took his hand and led him out onto the dancefloor. Bradley almost couldn’t believe his luck. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but the Jagerbombs and the smile on your face gave him all the confidence and permission he needed to let loose. He probably looked like a gazelle on ice, but your movements were graceful and carefree. Aside from being up in the air, this was the best he’d felt in a long time. 

The two of you danced for a while. At one point, you looped your arms around his neck and danced close to him, like you’d done with Nat. He couldn’t hide his disappointment when you suggested going down to get another drink.

You linked your fingers through his. ‘Relax!’ You called over the music. ‘I’ve still got a few more dances left in me.’

With that, he reluctantly followed you downstairs. You didn’t let go of his hand and he didn’t let go of yours, which he took as a good sign. In a way, it felt like you were staking your claim on him, and that was definitely something he could get behind. 

Back in the main room, everybody was up dancing, even Bob. It was nice to see, but also strange. Kind of like seeing a bird in an aquarium. 

‘Sex on the beach?’ Bradley whispered into your ear.

You scoffed playfully, turning to face him properly. That look on your face—God. 

‘What did I say about asking me to dinner first?’ You remarked.

Bradley licked his lips. ‘Bet. How about next weekend?’

You pulled your head back in shock, and then let out a delighted laugh. ‘Wow, Bradshaw. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that.’

‘Well,’ he said, closing the distance again. ‘Clearly I haven’t made my intentions clear enough, then.’

You glanced down at your feet having lost your nerve a little. ‘I guess not.’

‘Well, let me make it clear for you. I like you, and I’d love to take you out.’

Shyly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. ‘You know what, I’d love for you to take me out.’

Bradley beamed. ‘Well then, it’s settled.’ 

‘I guess it is.’ 

You gave it half an hour before dragging poor Nat off the dancefloor and outside onto the patio. There were lots of people out there smoking, talking and getting some air. Personally, you’d never needed fresh air more in your entire life.

‘Between you and Bradshaw, I get dragged all over the place.’ 

‘Sorry, Nix. I gotta talk to you.’

‘I know.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I left you alone with him for an hour and all of a sudden he’s buying everyone drinks.’

‘Was it him who bought that bottle of prosecco?’

‘Yep. It’s a big ass bottle.’ Nat emphasised. 

You groaned. ‘Bob is gonna be so upset.’

Natasha grabbed you by your shoulders and gave you a good shake. 

‘What was that for!’

‘You like Bradley, Y/N! Your body gets a reaction, you said it yourself.’

‘Nothing happened, but we’re going out for dinner next weekend.’ Your stomach twisted at the thought, nerves already getting the better of you. 

‘That’s great! So why don’t you look happy?’

‘I am happy.’ You told her, because you were. ‘I just feel guilty. I like Bobby, I really do. And I guess in the process of figuring my head out, I’ve messed with his a little.’ 

Nat made a sympathetic noise. ‘Then you need to be honest with him, and put it right. Don’t mess with his head any more.’

‘Okay.’ You nodded. ‘I can do that.’ 

Arm in arm, you headed back inside and to the dancefloor. It was getting late, and you got the feeling everyone would be heading off soon. Even if they weren’t, you would be. You were starting to see double, all truth be told.

You had every intention of giving Bradley another dance, but then you saw Bob. He was standing by the bar, and when you locked eyes with him, he nodded towards the lounge. He didn’t look sad, but Bob could be very stoic when he wanted to be. If he didn’t want anyone knowing how he felt, he could hide it well. 

There was a vast array of different shots on the table still. You knocked another fireball back for good measure, before following after Bob. 

You sashayed into the lounge like nobody’s business. Bob had claimed a loveseat in the corner with the intention of setting a few things straight, but now he finally had his chance, his mind was coming up short.

‘What’s up?’ You asked, taking a seat next to him.

Bob sipped his umpteenth drink, more for something to do with his hands than anything else. 

‘Bobby?’

Bob set his drink down on the table next to him and cupped your face in his hands. He didn’t give himself time to think about it, he just pressed his lips to yours. He could feel your shock, but he didn’t let up. Instead, he put a hand on the top of your thigh, finally starting to touch you in all the places he’d been wanting to for months. You were kissing him back, but not with the passion he’d been expecting.

He thought you wanted this too. 

You pulled back and laid a hand on his chest. It was gentle, but it told him everything he needed to know.

‘Y/N.’ He said hoarsely. ‘I-’

And then you were kissing him, and he could taste the cinnamon and the whiskey in your mouth. The sober, sane part of his brain knew that this wasn’t coming from a good place, that you were both too drunk to be making moves like this, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pull away and it didn’t seem like you were going to either.

The whole world started and ended with your lips on his. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough. 

When you eventually pulled away again, your lipstick was smeared. 

‘Fuck.’ You gasped. ‘Bob, I’m sorry.’

‘Why are you saying sorry?’ 

‘I didn’t think this through. This shouldn’t have happened like this, I have things I need to talk to you about.’

Bob felt sick. ‘What things?’

‘God, lots of things really. I’m such an awful friend!’ You leaned over, elbows on your knees and head in your hands. 

Bob had no idea what was going on. This was the most confused he’d ever been in his whole life, but he had a nagging feeling that Rooster had something to do with this. Goddamn Rooster. Always in the way.

‘I gotta go. I can’t do this.’ You stood up and ran your hands through your hair. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need to go home.’

‘Y/N, wait. You’re drunk, let me call you a cab, I-’

‘Bob, you deserve better than me.’ You choked back a sob. ‘You deserve so much better.’

And with that, you were running out of the club. Bob was seriously panicking. What if you got hurt? You’d had enough liquor to kill a horse, and to make matters worse, you were upset. Bob sprinted out of the lounge and back to the rest of The Daggers. They were all back at the table, finishing up their drinks.

He grabbed Nat’s arm. ‘Did you see Y/N?’

All it took for Nat to figure out what had happened was a quick look at his mout, which Bob was sure was smeared with your lipstick. She ran out of the bar with her phone in hand, Mickey hot on her heels. Bradley was staring at him, prosecco glass dangling from his limp hand. Clearly he’d figured it out too—it didn’t take a genius. Bradley looked ruined, and the guilt and anxiety were starting to creep in. 

It was moments like these were Bob needed his best friend most. He needed your advice, your comfort and your presence. But how could he ask you for comfort and advice when you were both in the same situation?

Bob was starting to feel a little like the universe was playing some big, cosmic joke on him. 

He should’ve listened to his gut instinct about tonight. 

A/N: The long-awaited third part! Honestly, the ending of this physically hurt! I have so much planned for the next part, including the first gig. I'm really looking forward to sharing it.

Taglist: @dearsnow@avythef1addict (tagging my fav online friend who singlehandedly gave me the courage to start writing this fic again!)

[spirkkock]

Going to be diseased about the modern au jopson/little/tozer idea forever. Legit sounds like the perfect story omg. There’s so much potential that I actually can’t stop thinking about it and now I want to know all the little details on how they would all interact,,

(Also if you somehow haven’t already then I’d highly recommend reading Renovation by ktula on ao3 - similar broad premise but very different details.

I was going to just say this all as a comment but I got shy lol but regardless! Very good concept, your mind is so massive for it tbh)

Omg!!! I was 100% inspired by ktula’s Renovation! I just read it last week and it’s all I can think about for real!! That fic rewired something in my brain, legitimately. I didn’t realize how much I was into Sol until I read it - he’s just so rough I need him to top me ASAP.

You don't have to feel shy! I'm just a dumb nerd who likes to think about cold boys warming up together :) say hi any time!

ANYWAY I loooove all of their dynamics so much. i have thought about this A LOT so here's way more details!!!!!!

[[PART 1]]

Nepo baby Nedward comes from a big family with lots of money. He works hard but he’s so shy and sad he couldn’t have gotten where he’s gotten (idk maybe something in finance?) without that Oxford legacy admissions because he’s such a big mopey doofus otherwise. And he’s quite ashamed of it, really, because he recognized his privilege but he can’t help it. And he’s a little out of touch because of it all but trying his best. But when grandma died no one else wanted the (modest but now, with real estate prices like they are, quite fancy) Victorian house because it’s practically falling apart, so it’s his now.

Jopson obviously also went to Oxford but on scholarship and had to work his ass off for it. He learned how to put on a wealthy affect to blend in with all the rich kids. But none of them liked him except Ned, who trailed around after him like a morose puppy begging for scraps of attention. And it pissed Tom off so much at first but eventually he realized he liked Ned - a lot actually. And he likes being in control, which is what Ned needs more than anything. And the rest is history! He’s perhaps some sort of organizer for housing justice. He’s home when he’s not yelling at city council for their proposed cheap developments that will displace entire city blocks of people for years.

(I think perhaps they’re not actually married yet. Tom doesn’t believe in marriage. He watched his father leave his mother and he’s watched too many “good men” leave her subsequently. But he and Ned make a show of it like they are - of course the Littles are less than thrilled that their only son is gay and seriously dating some kind of activist.)

Sol….. poor Sol…. He’s down on his luck for sure (not as bad as he is in ktula’s fic but still). He has a tendency of mixing business with pleasure, which really screwed him over when his former coworkers (and lovers) turned on him. It’s tough being queer in construction. So he lost his job, and now he’s taking odd jobs to do electrical work, but he’s certified for much much more than that.

Sol is also a sex fiend!!! He can’t help it, honestly, it’s just his nature. And the dry spell is killing him, but he knows he has to stay focused and snag this opportunity to work on this big beautiful house. But it’s soooo difficult because Nedward is 100% his type and his cute little husband isn’t bad either, even if he is a little unnerving. And he's constantly putting his foot in his mouth by accidentally saying something stupid and horny but it always makes Tom's eyes go dark and Ned turn a glorious pink so he keeps doing it.

At first Sol thinks Tom doesn’t trust him - his work (other than electrical) isn’t insured, since he’s not with a company, and Tom seems to know enough about housing to know that might be a bad idea. But he’s certainly cute, and he’s always buying Sol lunch from the chippie and asking him what kind of music he wants Tom to put on and eventually Sol thinks they’re maybe friends. But, by god, he’s always walking around looking like a snack in those tight, too small t shirts and booty shorts showing off the dark hair on his thighs and belly. And when he catches Sol looking he always responds with the most indecipherable, sultry expression that goes straight to Sol's cock - this environment is NOT conducive to GETTING WORK DONE. He goes home every day and jerks off thinking about what Tom and Ned might look like in bed together.

And don't get me started on Ned - he's an absolute mess of a man. He's big and a rough around the edges, obviously, but so well mannered and polite at the same time. He's always trying (and failing) to butch it up for Sol - he invites Sol to watch sports (working men like sports, right?) and drink a beer (men like Sol drink beer, right?), and maybe barbeque when the garden is finished (come on - grilling meat and drinking beer... right? Right?). And it's so misguided and silly but Sol finds it totally endearing, especially the time when Ned super excitedly offers him the most disgusting oatmeal stout he's ever had the displeasure of drinking, and so they both end up having some of Tom's Cab Sav instead. And then, of course, Sol wants to talk about notes and wine pairings with Tom and Ned goes the most alluring shade of scarlet because he's spent so much time and energy going down the WRONG avenues to woo Sol.

And Sol doesn't know this until later, but Ned gets off so hard after the fact when Tom teases him mercilessly about making a fool of himself in front of Sol. He absolutely gets a shame boner any time he embarrasses himself, and it gets so much worse (better) when Sol and Tom start screwing because it makes Ned feel like a voyeur and a pervert. He loves hearing all the titillating details of their salacious affair. Of course Tom knows all of this and completely milks it. His favorite thing to do is drive Ned into a mild moral panic. And it's just too easy easy with regard to Sol.

[miiashiifts]

𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 ♱

before i begin, i know i’m 200 followers too late to make an introduction post, but i just wanted to come on here and share a little bit about myself so i can get closer to you guys (and so i get an excuse to talk about myself…)

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𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 - 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘢 ♱

hiii !!! i’m mia & im a british shifter <3 i started shifting in april 2021 and have been completely infatuated with it ever since. i started this blog not too long ago, but i’ve been regularly posting on shifttok since summer 23’ (though i restarted my account & started posting more seriously in may 24’). i have severe anxiety & i’m currently out of education because of it so i have a LOT of time on my hands to make content when i’m not up at night stressing about how tf i’m going to be able to pass my gcse’s (shifting seems to be my number 1 priority at the moment???)

i have yet to have a fully successful shift, but i don’t let that bother me at all because just being part of the shifting community is enough to keep me going (but it’d be super cool if i did happen to shift tonight…not saying anything…) . i like to think that i am knowledgeable about the science behind reality shifting but i’m really not, so if you have any questions, ask away but i can’t assure you that i’ll know the answer since i’m really just here for the fun instead of the science </3

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𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 - 𝘮𝘪𝘢’𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘴 ♱

i only have 3 actual drs at the moment!!! i know, insane - but with only having 3 drs i can focus a lawtttttt more on them & imo it makes me feel closer to them, so all is well ?!

1. twin peaks dr ; the tv show not the chain of restaurants. this dr is my actual baby i love it so so much, i feel an absolutely sickening longing for anything twin peaks so the second i finished watching fwwm for the first time i knew exactly what i had to do. and that was make a dr where literally none of the plot happens and poor laura gets the life she deserves, all whilst i simultaneously manage to fit myself into what’s left of the practically non existent plot!

2. actress dr ; hell yeah!!! this is the dr that i drift off to sleep thinking about every night, this is the dr in which i am the most chic nepo baby to ever walk the planet. of course i’d be the one to make a dr where i get to physically embody all of my favourite characters whilst also looking hot and smoking cigarettes…of course…

3. band dr ; a definite work in progress, BUT it’s coming along veryyy nicely id say! i’ve had this dr for over a year and i still haven’t even scripted my date of birth so !?!? if anyone’s getting into scandals whilst also yet again looking hot and smoking cigarettes it’s me in this dr!!!! or me in all 3 of my drs i guess 🤷‍♀️

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𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 - 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘴 ♱

my whole life revolves around consuming media so here’s a sneak peak into my brain & what’s making me giggle and kick my feet at 2am !

music : hole, elliott smith, jeff buckley, sonic youth, dean blunt, joy division, jack off jill, the smashing pumpkins, massive attack, slowdive, radiohead, have a nice life, nicole dollanganger, nirvana, cocteau twins, fiona apple, mazzy star, alice in chains and soooo many more i can’t think of

films : my letterboxd top 4 is wild at heart (1990), inland empire (2006), longlegs (2024) & blue velvet (1986), but besides from that some of my other favourites include possession (1981), grease (1978), twin peaks: fire walk with me (1992), dirty dancing (1987), mulholland drive (2001) etc etc you get the idea

i am completely obsessed with anything david lynch as you can probably tell, i watched twin peaks for the first time in april 24’ and everything this man ever made has completely consumed me for the past almost year, i still stand by the idea that he was atleast somewhat aware of reality shifting (i mean…on the back of my inland empire dvd it literally mentions the phrase “shifting realities” but yknow…that could mean anything…) but i won’t go into that, that’s for another day 🙂‍↕️

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𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 !! ♱

my asks will always be open because i love talking to you guys so if you everrr have any concerns or questions pls don’t be shy!!!

[tartsinarat]

new owl house oc

Sooooo here’s Nimbus, I wrote out his concept a while ago but I haven't been able to draw him until now.

Hes a sheep... WITH A DARK SIDE...

nah but seriously though despite Nimbus's edgy rebel style he's actually a sweetie with a heart of gold that has his head up in the clouds 90% of the time and I love him for that

my voice headcanon for him is Marshall lee from adventure time.

He's apart of Hexside's Human Appreciation Society and is the guy who supplies HAS with human music from cds that he buys off of from Eda.

His favourite genre of human music is 80s glam rock

Nimbus is apart of the golden heir au as well but isn't really part of the main cast until much later in the events of the au.

In regards to Nimbus's role in the au, he and Pip are partners in chaos who often meet up to either cause mischief or practice for the band they're planning on creating together for the infamous battle of the bands (in the boiling isles, its a literal battle tournament between bards to show off their skills and I will definitely draw that as a comic at some point.)

alsoooo though Nimbus and Pip just really good friends at the beginning, in reality Pip has a massive crush on Nimbus that later gets revealed to be mutual... but this isn't revealed until massive amounts of angst happens >:)

au masterpost for funsies

[mweothe11e]

Hello!!! Elle✨

I am here to participate in your Intuitive game activity.

My initials - SHEY

My Favorite song(current fav) and Why -

"Patience" by Tame Impala

Its dreamy🫧music🎶 and thoughtful💭 lyrics📃 capture📸 the feeling🦋 of waiting⏳ and being patient🤌🏻creating🎨🖌️ a calming🌸 and reflective🪞 atmosphere🌿

My question - I'd love to get a general reading from you. Just whatever comes to your mind.

Hi SHEY,

Thank you so much for patiently waiting for your turn in my ask game.

I do apologize I wasn't able to include your name last night, it was a technical issue on my end. Don't worry, I added you back into the list and officially closed the game.

So starting with your song, the songs sound so chill and relaxing and when I check the lyrics seems dreamy and sort of sad.

Now for your general reading, the question that comes to mind is, "What do SHEY's guides want to tell SHEY?" They requested to do this in channeled messages format.

I'll list it down in bullet form for easier read:

"Is SHEY just being curious or does SHEY really want to know what we have to tell her?"

"Should we tell her about that time SHEY felt so embarrassed in public but really, no one even noticed or remembered?"

"SHEY's really hard on herself on things that she chose be burdened with. It's not SHEY's issue nor is it SHEY's problem to solve, yet why is she overextending herself for people who don't value and respect her?"

"Come on, I know this is a general reading, but we're (your spirit guides) are practically just rambling here?? There's no telling when will we ever get to chance to speak up again."

"Then tell SHEY she's being an idiot for forcing herself to fit into other people's molds and expectations are her."

"Yoooooo calm down, you might scare SHEY away. Let's be nicer about this, shall we?"

"Okay, SHEY needs a wake-up call for her perfectionistic procrastinating self-sabotaging tendencies. She knows she's capable of anything, yet her unrealistic standards for herself, makes her resentful for her ideals and her current ability."

"Seriously, what part of "be nice do all of you (your spirit guides) not realize?! Keep it nice and sweet."

"Okay, she's so sweet, loving, and secretly caring that her kindness is mistaken for weakness. That's why SHEY's become a chronic people pleaser."

"What the flipping duck do you all (your spirit guides) not know about the simple meaning of being *nice*?!"

(the rest of your spirit guides) "Well.... we didn't use swear words... So that's nice..."

(the actually nice spirit guide flips a table) "Universe?! Why did you assign with thissss *looks at the rest of your spirit guides as if they were vermins*"

"Hehe, the strict one lost its cool!! Anyway SHEY, stop guilt tripping yourself for things not being in your control. So as much as you want to save someone from the consequences of their own stupidity, you can't. They did need to learn their lessons and they need a good old fashion psychic backhanded bissh slap towards the brick wall, for thinking they can get away with harming and abusing you."

*nods spiritual heads in unison* "SHEY needs to stop being a push over!!" *the rest of your guides* "YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!"

"SHEY needs to do more self-care, that's beyond skincare" "oooohhh that's a good one".

"What else? oh! Don't give the so-called nice guy reformed player a chance.(this is future instance)"

"Is there anything else?" "Nope we all said what we need to say"

SHEY... your guides... they're wild and loud and cut throat.

Having to channel for all of them is giving a massive headache.

I'm sorry this is as far as I can pull for you.

Do let me know in your feedback how this resonates with you

[angelofrainfrogs]

Into the Pit: Ch. 3

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: He should be in the Daycare. 

Gregory emerges from the ball pit to find not the bright, rainbow room he’s accustomed to, but a house with a huge backyard and a kiddie pool of plastic “water.” Calling for Gregory is a familiar voice—Michael. Only this time it’s not Charlie or Freddy by his side, but someone completely new. And why do they insist on calling him their son?

Gregory soon comes to realize this existence is vastly different from anything he remembers. Perhaps these last few weeks at the Pizzaplex have all been a dream…?

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Thankfully, Gregory was pulled from his reverie as Jeremy posed a very important question.

“So,” the blonde started, running his thumb on the outside of Michael's palm while he spoke. “Are we doing pizza at Freddy's again tonight? Or are we going home for food?”

“Pizza...?” Gregory echoed, chasing away intrusive and betraying thoughts of unreality.

“Pizza it is, then,” Michael confirmed, meeting Gregory's gaze in the rearview mirror with a smile. The boy was being quieter than usual, a far-off look in his eyes that Mike hadn't seen in a while. He was thinking about something—likely that too-real dream he had that left him totally off-kilter for the day.

“...You know what?” Mike quirked an eyebrow, his mouth widening into a sly grin. “I think this day calls for a kitchen-sink-slush—provided we can keep out of Sam's sight. He hates it when we 'waste product' like that...”

The last part was said in a slightly mocking tone, though it was all in jest as evidenced by the twinkle in his eye. Despite Sam's reservations about raiding the soda machines to make the deadly concoction, he was always willing to turn a blind eye if the situation really called for it. Today was certainly one of those days—one mention of Gregory having bad dreams, and Mike knew Sam would straight up disable the kitchen cameras if needed so he didn't have to see his stock depleted.

Meeting Gregory's slightly confused gaze in the mirror again, Michael asked: “What do you think, Greg? Feel like rotting your teeth out with sugar today?”

Gregory perked up, very, very interested in the name alone. He met Jeremy's quick gaze in the rear-view mirror before the older man focused back on the road.

“It's been so long—how does that sound, kid?” Jeremy asked, trying hype up their son for what would be a fun trip to the Pizzaplex. Especially if the cousins were there with their parents. The only issue was finding parking on a Saturday...

“Hell yeah!” Gregory said, grasping the little musical robot on his shoulder and clipping the new friend to his belt for safekeeping.

“—Heck yeah, Greg. Come on, man.” Jer laughed. He was just glad to see Gregory coming out of the funky mood; it was hard to seriously scold the kid when he was having a fun time. After squinting at the full Pizzaplex parking lot, Jeremy glanced sidelong at his husband. “Is it right—morally—to park in the employees’ spots on my day off?”

“Jer, we practically live here,” Michael pointed out dryly. “I don't think we're gonna get in trouble with the boss if we take up a space. Plus, look—my father's already done it.”

Sure enough, there was William's bright car two spots over from them. The man himself was nowhere to be found, already wandering through the massive mall in search of his family or old business partner. Though he wasn't technically employed by the Pizzaplex, he and Henry were considered lifetime members—meaning they could do pretty much whatever they wanted. William certainly took advantage of this fact, to the great annoyance of his eldest.

With a little shake of his head, Mike unbuckled himself and hopped out before moving to open Gregory's door, snagging his hand when he exited as well. Locking up the vehicle, Jeremy was quick to join Gregory's other side, completing a three-person circuit with their son in the middle. As one they stepped through the sliding doors and entered the air-conditioned lobby of the Pizzaplex, keeping their eyes peeled for friends and family among the hundreds of guests milling about.

Everything was... the same. The decorations and vintage style décor that Gregory was familiar with graced his vision, bright neons calling out and dividing his attention every which way.

Getting through the lobby was a lot for him. Many kids were trying to get their admission stamps and parents, tired but patient, were attempting to reign in their hyperactive excitement. Gregory squeezed onto both his dads’ hands, finding himself saying honestly: “I hate crowds.”

“I know, bud. We'll be through the doors in a second! You're doing really well!” Jeremy encouraged. Since starting therapy, the constant encouragement was helping Gregory’s attitude and the way he coped in stressful situations. Reaching out, Jeremy pushed open the door and held it for his family to pass on through and into the atrium.

“Sam's gotta be in his office with all this going on,” Jeremy remarked, knowing Sam well enough at this point to correctly assume he’d leave the customer interactions up to Charlie and the Glamrocks.

Meanwhile, down by Rockstar Row, Charlie was in fact helping out with the customers. Parents didn't realize that you don't come into the Daycare and openly berate the attendant in front of the General Manager. Since taking up customer relations, she'd found that being more assertive came more naturally to her.

It did help when you had a 7 foot tall Moon-Man standing behind you for back up, though.

“Ma'am, we don't use excessive language like that here. If you can't behave properly in the Daycare, you're banned! That's it. Please sign the release form for your child and—”

“No! This is bullshit! I want my money back for the hour they spent here,” the irate patron argued. Charlie wished she could ban the woman from even existing at all, but that wasn't something she was about to say in front of other customers. “You can't possibly be the General Manager with that attitude, missy! Find me the real one so I can have him can your ass!”

Charlie bit her tongue hard, managing a decently straight face until she saw the familiar shape of the Fitz-Afton family heading towards the Daycare.

“Hm, he's off the clock. But I'm sure he'd love to speak with you. Mr. Fitz-Afton! Some assistance, please?” Charlie called, hating to do this on his day off.

Gregory squinted hard. Did he need glasses or was that lady... Charlie?!

She was older, certainly. Her big eyes still held that youthful countenance Gregory knew and loved, though her face had lengthened and thinned out with age. Honestly, he might not’ve recognized her were it not for her clothes. Despite being theme-appropriate for the Pizzaplex, the tomboyish style was something he could have seen her wear in his dream.

“Ooh, look—trouble already.” Though Michael’s words indicated annoyance, his face showed that he was fired up. No one was rude to Charlie on his watch. He smiled down at Gregory and released him, tone cheery as he cracked his knuckles. “Be right back!”

Michael didn't like conflict by any means. He simply found that sometimes it was easier to handle people with the curt edge that only his father could've raised him with. Stepping up next Charlie, he gave her a nod of acknowledgement as he turned a suddenly-cold smile on the irate mother. “Hello, ma'am—what seems to be the problem?”

“Oh, for god's sake—I'm not going to explain it again! I just want my damn money back!” the woman hissed, and from the darkness behind him Mike heard a little tut of discomfort.

“She's in quite the mood, Michael... such naughty language near all these impressionable little ears,” Moon muttered softly. Holding his hand was the woman's daughter, standing half in the dim light of the pick-up area and looking very upset.

“Well, I'm sorry our services weren't to your satisfaction,” Michael continued easily, his smile showing far too many teeth. Taking the release form from Charlie's hand, he held it out again. “As my General Manager told you, unfortunately you've been banned from the Daycare for use of foul language. In any event, no refunds are offered unless proven neglect or injury occurs on our end, which doesn't seem to be the case here. Please sign the release form—”

“Oh, fuck this!”

In a fit of rage the woman smacked the clipboard out of Michael's hands, sending it clattering across the floor. A blanket of silence settled over the Daycare, save for the bright, ambient music that played in the background during opening hours.

“...Charlie—” Michael began, the friendly mask now completely gone. “—can you please radio security and ask which of our Glamrock friends is closest and available? We need a guest escort.”

Oh no—she did not just smack the clipboard out of Michael Fitz-Afton’s hand. With the speed of one of those sharpshooting cowboys in an old spaghetti western, Charlie flipped a walkie-talkie from her belt and spoke into it.

“Any band members nearby? We need security by Superstar Daycare. We've got a Karen,” she said calmly, watching as the nuclear reactors melted down inside the mother's head. The rage was only being held back by a very thin shred of awareness as Michael's far too friendly smile had dropped into an instantly pissed off demeanor. Charlie loved it when he did that, even if it admittedly creeped her out. It always took people off-guard and their reactions made up for an otherwise stressful day.

Over the radio, there was an immediate response from the toughest girl in the mall. Roxy growled over the static: “You in trouble Charlie? Monty and I are at the end of Rockstar Row!”

Gregory balled his free hand into a fist. Getting ready to watch the Glamrocks fight some rude Mom would be a great way to start the day off. Jeremy hated these sort of parents as much as the next guy, but watching it all go down was not something he liked doing—especially with his own impressionable kid at his hip. All he ever did was think of how rough it must be for the child to watch their parents have a meltdown when they couldn't admit they were in the wrong.

“Nuts to this, Greg; let's not watch this. It might get messy,” he advised, much to his son's chagrin.

“But they're gonna beat her up!” Gregory protested, making his dad roll his eyes good-naturedly while he chose to escort his son just a little farther away.

“Right—well when they start putting wrestling moves on her, I don't want Monty tagging you in,” he teased back. The woman didn't like the idea of being kicked out with force, and was half-inclined to start filming with her phone before Roxy and Monty came stomping over.

“Alright—” Roxy huffed, making sure her mane was tied back in a loose pony tail since people have on rare occasion grabbed for her and pulled locks of well-groomed hair from her synthetic scalp. A scan and a quick profile search in, and Roxy was quick to demand that: “Veronica? You and your daughter Mandy have to come with us to the exit now. You're on temporary ban for the next seven days.”

“Oh, shut up!” Veronica exclaimed, though her demeanor was noticeably shaky as she stared up at the huge robots with far too many teeth.

“I’d listen to them if I were you,” Michael advised, all traces of a smile gone as he crossed his arms over his chest. “These two are not very patient when it comes to rowdy parents…”

“Y-You can’t touch me!” the woman insisted as the animatronics took a step closer in unison. ���I’ll sue—”

“I can’t, but they can—as our security system, they’re programmed to remove threats. And you, ma’am, have just used physical violence against me and are now considered a danger to the other patrons.” Michael shrugged; it was as simple as that. He was tired now and just wanted to spend some quality time with his family. With a lazy wave of his hand, he instructed: “Monty, will you please remove this woman from the premises? Roxy, take her daughter out as well.”

“You got it, Mike!” the gator bellowed, wasting no time in grabbing the woman—carefully, as his programming made it 98% impossible to cause accidental harm to humans and 100% impossible to cause intentional damage—and hoisting her to rest over a shoulder pad. She’d be relatively comfortable if she wasn’t literally kicking and screaming. Monty simply held firm, his tail swaying to counterbalance the angry woman’s thrashing.

“Alright, little moonbeam, it’s time to go with Miss Roxy now,” Moon said in that hushed, gravelly voice. He too hated children seeing their parents act up, but sometimes it was unavoidable. With gentle prompting, he passed the tiny girl over to the wolf, who was quick to take her hand in Moon’s stead.

“Okay, sweetie! We’ll be outside in no time!” Roxy promised, whisking her away while attempting to make the girl smile. It was always hard letting these kids go with people who themselves acted like children. There was nothing more she could do, though. Roxy wasn’t programmed to be a permanent caretaker, after all.

Charlie was thankful for Mike’s intervention, though hated that no one believed the woman when she asserted her title as General Manager. Resting her tried forehead against his shoulder, Charlie sighed in relief. “Thank you! That lady was a nightmare!”

Luckily the nightmare customers were few and far between. She then saw Jeremy on the approach with one of her favorite kids, and Charlie’s stressed expression instantly flipped to one of happiness.

“Are we doing family day?!” she asked, a little spark of the young Charlie that Gregory knew peeking through the wisdom-aged glint in her eyes. “You guys picked a good day! Evan’s hanging out with Sam and Dad in the office.”

“Sweet! You feel like taking a break and joining us?” Jeremy asked, ready to convince her—but after that interaction, Charlie didn’t need to be swayed and responded with an eager nod before he finished his sentence.

“Perfect!” Michael exclaimed, his smile easy-going and content. “Yeah, I asked Liz and Evan to meet us here. My dad’s wandering around too, though by now he’s either found Henry or is horribly lost again.”

“Uncle Will? Getting lost? What—no, he has the mind of steel-trap remember?” Charlie snickered, drawing a chortle from Jeremy at the wild things they’d quote William saying.

Will’s ability to go anywhere in the Pizzaplex came at a cost: the building was so massive compared to any prior Fazbear establishment, it was easy to take a wrong turn in the employee hallways and end up in some liminal-feeling back room. It didn’t happen that often nowadays, though Mike would still get the occasional call from his dad while on duty to:

“Hurry the hell up and get me out of here, Michael! I’m not getting any younger…”

This thought tangent made Mike let out a snort, though he shook his head at the other’s questioning gazes and began walking towards Sam’s office. He made sure to keep Gregory’s hand securely in his own the whole time.

“Bye, Moon!” he called as the group made their exit through the darkly-lit area.

“Bye everyone; thank you, ehehehe,” the lanky animatronic cackled, paying special mind to the younger boy. “Good to see you, Gregory!”

Ah, the good old Daycare attendant. They didn't seem out of the ordinary with their mannerisms. Same with Roxy and Monty—from the short glimpse Gregory had been able to get, they’d seemed like their normal selves.

“Bye Moon! I'll hang out with you later!” he replied. Who knew—maybe the more talkative Sun could help fill in the gaps of his memory.

The closer the group drew to the office, the harder Gregory clung to them. Although outwardly he was smiling and content, the boy held reservations. What else was different from what he remembered? It wasn’t necessarily the changes, but the uncertainty of it all that bothered him the most.

Charlie hadn't bothered knocking, letting herself into the office and holding open the door to Sam's little executive clubhouse and personal workspace. Her and Michael's fathers were sitting at the workbench in the corner, playing cards and drinking from short, clear glasses. Relaxing at the couch was a severely-less stressed looking Samuel. Even the grey streaks in his hair seemed minimal from the last time Gregory saw him. Now that Charlie resembled her real age, Gregory could see why they were twins.

“Oh no, not these guys!” Samuel groaned teasingly, getting up to come and greet the rest of the family. Seeing Sam this energetic almost gave Gregory whiplash.

“Yup, trouble has officially arrived!” Mike announced, releasing Gregory to hook an arm around Sam’s neck and give him a noogie. While Sammy fought off his old friend, another familiar-yet-new face came up to meet them.

“Hi, Jeremy!” Evan greeted warmly, going for the blonde first since his biological brother was preoccupied. His face really hadn’t changed much from when he was a kid—it was a bit thinner and covered in laugh lines like the others', but putting him and Gregory next to each other would still show an uncanny resemblance.

After giving his brother-in-law a hug, Evan knelt down in front of Greg with a soft smile. If there was anyone who understood the boy’s emotional intricacies, it was the man who’d cried at his own shadow when he was a kid. 

“Hey, mini-me!” Evan chuckled in that same soft tone Gregory knew, just deepened a bit with age. He held out his arms, always offering a hug but never offended if it wasn’t reciprocated, a wide grin crinkling the corners of his dark brown eyes. “How’s my faaaavorite nephew today?”

Gregory was almost speechless. This was... Evan?! Aged by forty-odd years and taller than he ever expected the kid to get if he was alive.

Alive—

Of course he was alive. Shit, that dream had really messed with Gregory’s head.

Gregory fell forward and gave Evan the biggest squeeze around the shoulders he could. No longer were they the Pizzaplex twins, but uncle and nephew. Burying his face into Evan's shoulder, Gregory realized that even if this all was some manner of strange hallucination, he was glad to be in a reality where everyone was living.

“I'm so much better now,” he said with confidence. Everyone was happy and safe; it was something he never thought he’d see. Over Evan's shoulder, Gregory watched as William folded down his cards and quickly batted Henry playfully on the arm.

“You're cheating, Hen—where's the cards in your sleeve? You can't use my own tricks on me!” William could be heard saying over his own laughter as he patted down Henry's sleeves for extra cards on his person.

Sam was put in a helpless headlock, struggling to break free from Michael's grip as Charlie watched on, laughing at the two goons she'd spent her entire life with. You'd think after so many years she'd grow tired of Sam and Michael always trying to one-up each other with their wrestling moves. Yet here she was, still giggling like it was backyard wrestling at the Aftons’ in '83.

Gregory closed his eyes, unsure if he wanted to let go of Evan just yet, gripped by an emotion he seldom felt. It was a complete feeling. Like, for once, everything was right with the world.

As Jeremy recognized the long look in his gaze, he warned Evan: “Uh-oh; he's not gonna let go of you now, you know.”

To which Gregory went back and hid his face in Evan's arm. Something Jeremy found so dang cute.

“That’s fine with me!” Evan replied with a chuckle. He had no idea what happened this morning, but it was clear the kid had been spooked. He wasn’t usually this clingy… not that Evan minded in the slightest. Still—

“Although at some point you’re gonna have to fight the triplets off,” he remarked, his eyes growing softer at their mention. Finally done pestering Sam, Michael had tuned into the conversation at just the right time.

“Oh, are they here?!” he asked with a grin. “How’s Kelley doing, by the way?”

Evan’s little triplets just turned seven and were the light of his life, not to mention a top highlight of everyone else’s. Two boys and one girl made the house he shared with his wife Kelley buzz with energy—and it was about to get even livelier with another kid on the way.

“Yes they are, and she’s doing great,” Evan replied brightly, standing up when Gregory finally released him. He didn’t move though, putting a hand on Gregory’s head as comforting reassurance for whatever the kid was going through. “Cassidy’s actually with them right now since Kel picked up a last-minute shift—last I heard she was trying to wrangle them into Mazercise.”

Kelley was only a few months along, so she was still able to perform her job as an NP in a small clinic. She was one of the top practitioners, which meant she was often called in to cover shifts when others couldn’t. If not for his best friend stepping in as surrogate aunt when Liz wasn’t around, Evan didn’t know what he’d do…

“We’ll have to stop by and see them later!” Mike promised. When his gaze shifted to Gregory, the boy’s face yet again showed immense confusion. This time he was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t as good at that as he thought he was—not to his dads, at least.

Gregory had caught Michael’s worried glance and tried quickly to wipe the look of surprise off his face. Four kids… Four? Maybe even more if Evan had another set of multiples.

Gregory was still confused beyond a doubt, but at least the sad boy he met in the basement of the Pizzaplex seemed to be doing pretty well these days. These weren’t just any kids Evan had, either—they were apparently Gregory’s cousins, too. His family was suddenly way bigger than it was before, with more members to expect on the way. He had an Aunt Kelley, and Cassidy was still in their lives, apparently unable to leave Evan alone even without the entrapment of their shared Fredbear tomb.

“Where is Liz, anyway?” Gregory decided to ask, figuring it was normal to question while he tried his hardest not to appear lost in the verbal sauce.

“She’s in her little workshop—you know how we’re trying to get an extension on the mall? Liz is drawing up designs for the Glamrock Circus characters,” Sam revealed, knowing the upcoming secret project was safe in this room.

“I don’t know why you kids want to keep bringing back the 80’s. You all were so eager to get out of that era, and now you can’t leave it alone…,” William voiced, sorting the cards while looking to Henry to see if he agreed. Surely he wasn’t the only one who remembered how fast they all wanted to grow up.

“Much as I hate to admit, Will’s got a point,” Henry conceded, smiling gently even as his leg was kicked under the table and he returned the gesture tenfold. “I think it’s the nostalgia factor.”

“Hey, we might’ve been annoying kids, but we were happy for the most part,” Michael laughed, nudging Evan to make him agree.

“Mm, for the most part,” he hummed, giving Mike a knowing look. There’d been a short period of time where Michael fell in with the wrong crowd as a teen and bullied Evan near-relentlessly… but one day he came to his senses, ditched his “friends” and apologized to his brother for being such a shithead, and the rest was history. Even so, Evan never quite let Mike live that unfortunate part of their lives down—though nowadays it was only spoken of in teasing reminiscence.

Michael Afton could never be so mean.

“You should go see her—I’m sure Lizzie needs a break!” Henry encouraged, glancing up from the table after slapping a card down and grinning at Will’s outraged cry.

“I’ll go with you!” Evan volunteered, raising one hand while ruffling Gregory’s hair with the other. “Might as well track down those little rascals afterwards before they or Cassidy lose their minds…”

“Oh, please; Cas already lost that years ago,” Charlie reminded the group. The pair hadn't always been on the best of terms as kids, but after realizing they’d be in each other’s lives for the foreseeable future the girls were able to work through their differences. “June should be hanging out with them in Mazercise. You better go say hi.”

Charlie said it like a warning, but the smile in her eyes let Gregory know it wasn't so imperative. Gregory knew at this point he would have to start responding to these things. Michael and Jeremy were growing increasingly more aware that something strange was going on with him, and Gregory didn't want to raise anymore alarm bells.

“Is it cool if we both get sodas?” he asked, thinking a more neutral answer was safe for now.

Charlie, not suspecting much, told him: “Sure! You brought your Best Friend Card right? If you didn't, I've got some cash—”

“No worries Charlie! I've got Gregory's card,” Jeremy interjected. Always prepared, he dug into his beat up old wallet and pulled out Gregory's all-access pass.

“Anyone else coming with?” Michael question. He met Jeremy’s gaze, eyes twinkling playfully. “Besides you, of course—I’m stuck with you.”  

Jeremy matched the grin to a tee, replying in a rather smug tone. “You couldn't get rid of me for over 20 years, dude; of course you're stuck with me. Also, I hid the receipt.”

“I've got payroll to do—plus babysitting these guys,” Sam responded to Michael’s question, nodding to the men playing cards behind him.

When Gregory glanced over, William had smoothly produced two aces from the same sleeve and entered them into his hand before tossing his cards down on the table along with Henry. It almost worked—but Henry had four aces.

“See? You're cheating. I knew it!” William exclaimed, and it was hard to tell if his fury was genuine or not.

“Dad…” Evan couldn’t help but sigh, knowing it pointless to mention they were both clearly cheating in increasingly obvious ways. Especially when Henry responded with a jovial:

“Takes one to know one, buddy!”

—which started a squabbling argument that neither of the old fogies was ever going to win.

“Right… well, you have fun with that, Sammy,” Michael said with a grin, patting his friend on the back. After a second, Mike perked up as he remembered something. “Oh, you wanted us to check out Freddy after his new software update, right? I’m guessing he’s in his room—we’ll stop by sometime today and give you a report.”

“I’d do it sooner than later,” Henry piped up, stalling the argument over cards for a moment. “Bonnie’s been getting on my poor children’s cases about his friend being MIA, and I don’t want any of them to blow a gasket…”

Evan tried to put on a sympathetic face, though he couldn’t help but snicker at the mental image of smoke pouring out of Sam and Charlie’s ears from frustration at the overly-attentive bunny.

Michael chuckled as well. “Alright, we can swing by after we visit Liz.” He glanced down at Gregory and gave his hand a little squeeze. “Sound good, kiddo?”

“Yeah! I need to talk to Freddy anyway,” Gregory told them. It probably wasn't out of the ordinary for Gregory to want to see the bear regularly; clearly, Freddy was his favorite character regardless of circumstance.

Gregory tugged lightly on Michael’s arm to get him moving. Feeling Jeremy bump into his side as well, he decided to take his other dad’s hand in his and tried to rationalize the situation in simple terms: if Michael trusted these people, so did he—until he was given a reason not to. Which, hopefully, would never happen.

William took a deep swig from his glass. Reaching across the table to refresh both his and Henry's cups, he warned: “You'll be a good boy and not climb inside Freddy's chest compartment again, right, Gregory? I'd feel so terrible if you hurt yourself in one of those robots.”

The worry on his face was so genuine, it made Gregory wonder what the purpose of it all was when he did it before. He could feel the claustrophobic thrumming of Freddy’s internal mechanisms as he sandwiched himself between a gap in the bear’s endoskeleton. In his dreams, Gregory was running away from things trying to kill him… most notably, the very same man who apparently couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt by the very same bot.

Gregory nodded his understanding, feeling somewhat bad as his worried grandfather shuffled his and Henry's cards anew. “I won’t, Pappy.”

“He'll be fine, Dad,” Michael reassured with an easy smile. He knew William was just being paranoid, despite the fact that Gregory hadn't tried to climb inside an animatronic in a while—at least, not to Michael's knowledge.

Evan took the lead, walking confidently through employee-only passages and waving to staff as he went. It wasn't a secret when the Afton and Emily heirs were around, as they were so involved in other family members' franchises the staff quickly learned to memorize their faces due to frequent surprise visits. While Evan didn't work in the Pizzaplex—he was perfectly content to manage his own smaller, homier diner branch of Fazbear Entertainment—there was no mistaking his kind face as someone of great importance.

Gregory was treated much the same way, though arguably with more genuine greetings than his elder family members received. It wasn't that any of the heirs were unlikeable—though Michael had scared quite a few staff on occasion with his calm and collected lectures underlain with veiled threats—it was just that they were so important it was intimidating.

But Gregory? Yes, he was right up there in the status quo, but he was still just a kid—and dealing with kids is what the members of the Pizzaplex knew how to do best.

Soon enough, the group reached a door hidden away from the usual path of employees rushing to and fro. Michael rapped on the wood three times before pushing it open. “Liz? I brought visitors...”

Liz was dressed down today in overalls and an old painting shirt as she worked. Finishing the latest designs was something she was being particular about, having thrown away half the original concepts and finding herself in a creative rut. At Michael's voice, Liz was quick to break concentration and turn around in her office chair.

“Visitors? You brought a whole party; hey, guys!” she remarked as the group filed into the office. Meeting the youngest boy’s eyes, Lizzie waved him over with a sense of urgency. “Gregory! Quick, I need your opinion on Circus Baby and Ballora.”

Gregory was fast to let go of his father's hands to do some investigating, curiously coming to peep the watercolor characters Liz painted in her sketchbook. Circus Baby looked far less uncanny then her predecessor, as well as Ballora. While Ballora seemed to still take role as a dancer, Baby's design leaned more towards that of a pop singer.

“They're cool! They're not as weird... They kind of look like they're from like—the 90's maybe.”

Liz groaned at this, closing the book even as it was still drying.

“I'm sorry I hate shoulder pads.” Elizabeth stressed before pulling Gregory in for an aggressive hug. “How ARE you, sweetie? Did you cut your hair?” Deft fingers played with the mullet Gregory seemed to obtain between last Wednesday and now.

No, Charlie did, Gregory thought. Outwardly, he shrugged and decided to act cool about it. “Just needed something different.”

“I think it's cute—er, cool. Super cool.” Evan tried to cover his slip, knowing that if his seven-year-olds hated being called cute, surely the almost-thirteen-year-old would despise it. He hummed as he assessed the style, noting: “Kinda reminds me of Mike's hair when we were growing up. Remember how you'd lock yourself in the bathroom for hours? God, it was so annoying…”

A tiny flush of red graced Michael's cheeks as his little brother jabbed an elbow into his side. “Look, it was called fashion, Evan. I was just doing what everyone else did back then.”

“Mm... I think you just wanted to impress—”

“So, Liz—” Michael cut off whatever Evan was about to say, moving to his sister’s side and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Uncle Henry says you need a break—wanna come visit Freddy and then go find Evan’s kids?”

Evan rolled his eyes at Mike’s poor attempt to deflect, shooting a knowing look at the other Afton-Fitzgeralds. Michael had never been one for subtlety, so it was always obvious when someone caught his attention in a way others hadn’t. As for Liz taking a break, she bounced up from her chair and stretched her arms above her head to get her circulation going again.

“I’m so glad you all showed up—I was about to start atrophying,” she lamented, then threw a smirk at her big brother’s clear embarrassment.

“We gotta go see Freddy first!” Gregory reminded the group, reminding Charlie and the others that he had an ant in his pants about beta-testing Freddy’s new updates. It came as no surprise to the others. What with Freddy being his favorite and Gregory’s interest in coding, who could blame the kid?

“Yes, yes—Freddy first, as always,” Michael chuckled, shuffling his son towards the door.

***

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[survey--s]

615.

Have you ever left your front door unlocked all night?  Our door locks automatically so it's not possible, but my parents did once and they got broken into - stole the car off the drive and my mum's handbag off the table. The car was found a few days later smashed into a wall.

Do you prefer cold or warm weather?  Around 18-20 degrees is perfect for me.

The last advertisement you saw: What was it advertising?  I have no idea, further education or something maybe?

Do you prefer bar or liquid soap?  Liquid.

Do you wear any perfumes / colognes on a regular basis?  I wear body spray everyday, yeah. My current one is vanilla scented.

Do you have high or low self esteem levels?  I think they're just pretty normal, to be honest.

When was the last time you listened to a song on repeat? What was the song?  It was Savage Daughter by Ekaterina but don't remember when, maybe last week sometime?

How do you feel about being in the house alone?  I absolutely love it, I find it really peaceful.

What was the last compliment you received?  I can't remember off the top of my head.

Do you like mint or orange flavored chocolate?  I like both but prefer mint.

How often do you get spots? Like, pimples?  Just around my period.

Do you believe that when your ears burn someone is talking about you?  Ha, no, but I remember my mum saying that all the time when I was younger.

Are you a good host when visitors come over or do you wish they’d leave? I mean, I only have visitors over when they've been invited so of course I'm polite and host them properly.

When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot?  I don't remember.

What is your favorite foreign language to listen to? (In music or speech)  French.

Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics?  Ones with lyrics. I'm really not a massive fan of instrumental music unless it's being played as part of a soundtrack.

Name something simple that makes you happy.  Iced coffee.

What is your favorite instrument to listen to?  Piano or acoustic guitar.

Pick one: Books, movies or music?  I like all three.

Do you carry a bag around with you often? What does it look like?  Yeah, it's just a small black cross-body bag that can be converted to a bum bag when I'm at work.

Do you like your natural hair color?  Sure.

Do you delete your emails / texts often?  Yeah, I clean up my phone regularly and never keep stuff I don't need.

What was the last book you read about?  I haven't touched a book in about six months, honestly.

What color are the walls in the room you’re in?  Two are dark red and two are grey.

Did you dress up last Halloween? As what? No.

Do you have any old friends who you still kinda speak to but it’s awkward?  Yeah, I suppose so. I guess that's what happens when you grow up and life takes you in completely different directions.

Name one of your favorite memories.  Our wedding day.

Are you a polite person?  Yes, when I have to be.

When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life? Earlier on today, I think.

Have you ever used a chat-up line that actually worked?  Nope. Not seriously, anyway.

Can you put your legs behind your head?  No. I have joint issues in my back and hips.

Do you forget things easily? Nope, I have the opposite problem.

The last song you listened to: Did it have a male or female vocalist?  Female.

Is the heating on in your house currently?  No, though it is starting to get colder especially in the evenings. We generally don't put the heating on until October/November though as it just costs so much money. We do have the fire but Mike was looking up the cost of coal yesterday and it's practically tripled haha.

Do you often find toothpaste too minty?  Not really. I did when I was younger, though.

Have you ever had braces? Do you need them?  No. My bottom teeth are a bit overcrowded but honestly it doesn't make any difference to my life.

Are you a subscriber to any magazines? Which?  No.

What does your voice sound like? (Loud, quiet, high pitched, etc)  Fairly quiet and I have a bit of a lisp.

[cetra]

My final verdict: this game was really fun for me, for a long time. The combat is really great and definitely speaks to the part of me that absolutely loves turn-based gameplay (my favorite kind of combat in any RPG). the music is fantastic and I do think Borislav Slavov deserves every award he's getting for it. The game has lots of great characters of whom I think Lae'zel and Gale are the standouts (or at least for Lae'zel until the epilogues lol). But the story, the clear biases that the development has in regards to certain characters as well as the choices of the playerbase and the unpolished feeling of the game is where this game REALLY fell flat for me and it started to become incredibly annoying to play

I genuinely enjoyed Act One, and most of Act Two. but Act Three drops the ball so freaking hard in terms of the writing quality. i mean good LORD it's so awful and incredibly rushed. And i was playing as the Dark Urge which afaik gives you more to do in this act, yet it STILL felt like it was just begging me to finish the game already. But playing the game was getting more and more tiresome for me so i was practically slogging through. Act One took me a long time to get through as well mind you , but only because I was tearing apart everything it had to offer. Whereas with Act Three i was just like..... I Seriously Don't Care About What's Going On Anymore. Battles stopped being fun in the city. I felt like the game was REALLY really trying to punish me for the way i chose to play the game and not in a way that felt emotionally effective, in a way that was really annoying me and made me feel like I was being talked down to as a player

and even though I was lucky enough to not encounter that many bugs, I know for a FACT that Act Three stands out for a huge portion of players as the definitive most buggy segment of the game. which leads me to my next point: Baldur's Gate 3 could not be more obviously unfinished. I mean it's embarrassing at this point the amount of massive patches they've had to roll out many of which continue to break the game in new and exciting ways.

on top of that, the stunt they pulled with the epilogues was definitely the thing that made me realize okay, I'm probably never going back to this game and i'm definitely not going to give Larian money ever again (something that was already set in stone after I found out about the crunch but yeah), because how on earth is it STILL acceptable for game companies to so blatantly put out games that aren't finished and full of insane game breaking bugs with every intention to just go back in after release, "fix it" and then add a bunch of cool new stuff to try and appease to unsatisfied fans. (because it's the new industry standard that's been around for a LONGGG time now but i'd argue was codified by No Man's Sky and CP2077, for some reason fans keep falling for this garbage EVERY SINGLE TIME)

And yeah. there are lot of things I can talk about here honeslty, like how bad the game's politics are when the game remembers to have some, Minthara in general (romance flag issues and pandering to Good players who refused to do what made her recruitable by making her recruitable without raiding the grove), the game's really bad treatment of its ONLY Black companion Wyll, how clunky and underdeveloped certain gameplay/combat mechanics can feel, how a lot of the world just feels so empty compared to other fantasy settings I've seen in games (And i don't mean empty as in devoid of life, I know that a lot of the game takes place in the wildness and dangerous lands most wouldn't wander to, but most of this game just doesn't feel like it's the setting for a world that has been around for centuries and is full of lore and mythos. It just feels like a generic backdrop and not even reading the countless books i came across helped to immerse me in this universe), etc.

i'll just leave it at that. This was probably one of the most disappointing games i've played in recent memory, which sucks because I was really hoping i would love it. I remember while playing it I thought for a while it could even be an all-timer, but now I look back at it with mainly contempt. i also think it's reflective of a huge part of what's currently wrong with the game industry, which is multimillion to billion dollar game companies pushing out unfinished work to make a profit as soon as possible and please shareholders. Alongside live service games, microtransactions, lack of unions, developers being abused and crunched.... I mean i could go on but I already talk about this a lot on my blog so you guys already know how I feel about the state of the industry 🫥

I appreciate how the game pushed me creatively and how i was able to meet so many wonderful people in its community, and I'll happily take that part with me while leaving the rest behind. I still have a lot of love in my heart for some of the characters of this game, the music, my friend's OCs and their creations for this game (the latter two of which I'm going to continue to support with all my enthusiasm), and if you really love this game which I know a lot of my followers do then more power to you honestly!! I'm really glad you got something out of this game and i hope you'll continue to be touched by it. As for me this is probably the last I'll talk of my many many issues with it before I move on because i'm tired of feeling dragged down by my negative feelings for it and I want to spend my time playing better games instead of complaining about one mid one🫡

I finally uninstalled my computer's virus known as "Baldur's Gate 3"

[wheres-mylove]

black sabbath? | eddie munson x fem!reader

Summary: You know that feeling when you find out that your friend has a massive crush on your older sister, but you can't do anything about it, even though you don't approve, since they just have to love the same music band? No? Because Dustin Henderson does. 

Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!

Word count: 3.1k

➸ You can read part two here! 

(Y/N) Henderson really loved her brother. Most of the time. Because there were also times when he played on her nerves in a way no one else did.

“So Iron Maiden after all? Great choice! I'll get your change right away,” the girl said with a practiced smile, handing the customer a wad of bills over the counter. “Have a nice day!”

She waited a few moments until the guy (satisfied with the amazing service) left the store. And then she opened the door to the back room, which she had previously slammed shut.

“Why aren't you being so kind to me?” asked Dustin reproachfully, not caring in the least about his sister's deadly stare as he sat in a room theoretically for employees, with a mug of tea in hand. “Oh well. They pay you to do that here.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and leaned against the counter.

“I'm going to get fired because instead of letting me do my job in peace, you're making me listen to your ranting.”

“It's not ranting, woman. It's the story of my life.”

“If your life boils down to D&D, then it's no wonder you're getting bullied at school, Dusty,” (Y/N) sighed, arranging the vinyls that had been laid out by the previously-hosted lover of heavy sounds. She laughed at the sight of her brother's scowling face. “Just kidding. Wind up. But if someone walks in, for God's sake, tone it down.”

“Well, as I was saying-” Dustin set his mug down on the table with a bang so he could gesture freely. “Lucas acted in an outrageous manner. I was convinced we'd have to postpone the whole campaign. Mike and I nearly shit ourselves. I was like, man, Eddie will get so freaking mad...”

“I swear I'm going to start counting how many times the word Eddie comes out of your mouth,” announced (Y/N) with a smile. “Eddie this, Eddie that. Like a teenager in love.”

“Woah, take it easy. I won't tell you anything if you keep on being rude.”

“Promise?”

“He told us to find a sub for Sinclair and we were so screwed.” (Y/N) let the air out slowly through her nose. He wouldn't shut up so easily. “Absolutely nobody wanted to play with us. I fucking called Steve.”

“You also fucking called me. You've obviously hit the rock bottom.”

“Why can't you come actually? We somehow convinced Erica, but I thought she'd also say no, just out of spite. You know the rules, why can't you get your ass there?”

“I let children have their fun!” she exclaimed, bringing the pile of vinyls back to their rightful place. “In all seriousness, though, I'm going to the championship game.”

“You hate basketball.”

“First of all, unlike you, I appreciate that Lucas has worked hard for a place on the team... ”

“Don't be so supportive, he's warming the bench.”

“A sportsman spoke up. Secondly, Robin plays with the orchestra. My ears will fall off, but she's my friend. Gotta survive,” (Y/N) explained further. A wry smile suddenly dawned on her face. “Well, maybe I'll try my hand as Harrington's wingman. Can you believe that he came to me for love advice? But I don't think he's gonna make progress. He recently complimented a chick's forehead.”

Dustin laughed so hard that the tea almost went up his nose.

In a final act of grace (Y/N) agreed to drive her brother home once he and his friends had finished their campaign. However, she began to regret it. The basketball game was long over, Lucas disappeared with his new friends, Robin went home, and Steve was probably exchanging saliva with his temporary sweetheart. 

She drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, with only Black Sabbath blasting from the speakers to keep her company.

“Can you help me, occupy my brain?” she sang along with the vocalist. (Y/N) could use the help, as she was growing tired of waiting in the car and staring blankly at the front door. Suddenly they opened, revealing several laughing teenagers, followed by an extremely joyful Erica Sinclair. The beloved brother was nowhere to be seen. 

(Y/N) leaned out of the car window.

“Erica!” she called out, at which the girl turned toward the parking lot, searching for the owner of the voice with her eyes. “Where's my little dipshit?”

“Inside!”

(Y/N) decided that she had waited long enough. It was time to use violence. She jumped out of the car and ran up to the door. Erica waited.

“We won because of me,” she stated with undisguised pride, raising her head. “You will drive me home. Make it quick.”

“Congratulations and... okay? Sure, I'll drive you. You asked so politely,” (Y/N) replied, spreading her arms, as the girl apparently did not wait for her answer. Let's find Dustin.

It wasn't that complicated. She was led by the faint light from the room where they were playing D&D and the loud voice of.... well, the Master himself.

“Gentlemen, what a game that was! I'm impressed, really. Now it's your turn to flatter me. Yes, Eddie, what a thoughtful campaign. Shock. Wheeler, be careful with that figurine. I will scalp you if you do any damage.”

“Let's speed this up, because my sister will scalp us if we don't show up right away,” muttered Henderson, to which (Y/N) nodded, leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. They had not yet noticed her arrival.

“Too late,” she spoke up out of the blue, at which Mike jumped up, Dustin screamed, and the oldest member of the merry men turned abruptly in her direction.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he screeched, clutching his chest. “Don't do that again.”

(Y/N) took a better look at the infamous Munson. She had seen him before, before she graduated, but they had never officially met. It was hard not to notice a wisp of dark unruly hair, tattooed forearms, a crazy grin and... eyes. Beautiful eyes, to be honest. She never paid much attention to them. Oh fuck. 

At first frightened by her sudden appearance in the room, Eddie didn't register who he was talking to. Unbelievable. He had passed this pretty creature in the hallway many times in the past year, but never had the courage to do more than admire her from afar.

Wait, this is Dustin's sister? This is his sister? He has been playing D&D with her little brother all this time and didn't even have a clue.

He thanked the higher power that (Y/N) was busy scolding Dustin, as he stood, grinning like an idiot, just happy to be there. Mike glanced in his direction fleetingly and raised his eyebrows. Finally, the attention of the Henderson siblings shifted to Munson. Eddie's head spun when she looked at him. No, man. Get your head in the game. You need to make a good impression.

Dustin grunted. He figured it would be polite to make the presentation now.

“This is my older sister, (Y/N).”

The aforementioned sister sent a smile in Eddie's direction that almost brought him off his feet. Damn. He's a metalhead. Metalheads. Don't. Blush.

“Dustin talks about you all the time, so let me guess that you must be...” (Y/N) began, extending her right hand to him, but before she could finish, Eddie decided to go with the first thing that came to mind.

“My name is Lucifer, please take my hand.” He laughed and finally shook her hand. He could have sworn he felt more than something. The light touch stirred up a sea of sparks within him. And Eddie didn't consider himself as a fan of clichés. Well.

(Y/N) Henderson squinted her eyes, with head held confidently high. And then she smiled, but this time more mischievously.

“I prefer it sung by Ozzy, but your version will do,” she replied quietly. In an almost flirtatious manner.

Oh, boy. You are lost, Eddie Munson.

Dustin was one step away from knocking a head on the table. Either his own, or the one belonging to his older friend.

“Get away from me. Absolutely not. Forget it,” repeated Henderson for the hundredth time, waving his fork warningly in Munson's direction. “I swear I'll stab you with it if you ask me about her again.”

Eddie wasn't too concerned about Dustin's threat. He continued to hang around with a fierce look on his face. Henderson looked up, silently praying for the strength to endure Eddie Munson's nagging. 

It had been a week since his sister had appeared in Leviathan's den, and his D&D master had gone completely mad for her. Why didn't Dustin tell him that his sister (Y/N) was in fact that (Y/N)? She listens to Black Sabbath, but what else? What is she interested in? Where can they hang out? Dustin should bring her to the next game. By the way, has she ever played D&D? Does she have a boyfriend?

Is that how she felt when he was telling her all about Munson? Guilt washed over him. He didn't know it was possible to become that annoying.

“No crushing on (Y/N) on my watch!” he finally shouted, at which Eddie jumped up. And so did several people seated closest to them.

Mike Wheeler just laughed and patted Dustin on the back.

“Chill out, man.”

“You fucking Judas, whose side are you taking? You're a brother yourself. That's our shitty role. To beat the admirers off with a stick,” Dustin muttered, resting his chin on his hand. He turned toward Munson, sending him a suspicious look.

“What are your intentions?”

“Foul,” replied Eddie without flinching. 

“You are disgusting.”

The boy straightened up, sending his friends a wide smile. He thought for a moment, then put his hands on their shoulders.

“You don't understand anything, don't you? I feel that this is my year. That it will be different. I will finally graduate, snatch that diploma. My dream is to flip Higgins the bird and run as far away from this shithole as possible, to start a new life,” Eddie said with conviction and hope that there is simply no other option. “But I have some unfinished business, you see. When I had the opportunity to talk to (Y/N) at school, I chickened out. However, I see that fate is giving me a second chance to make things right.”

“Have mercy,” muttered Mike to Dustin, but he shook his head with a disapproving look.

Henderson was as stubborn as a mule. But Mike's patience also had its limits. That's why, when an exasperated Dustin marched out of the cafeteria, Wheeler leaned toward Munson and whispered in confidence that (Y/N) was currently not seeing anyone. Then it casually slipped out that she works at the record store. The one near the library. It also slipped out that she works an opening shift on Saturdays. By accident. 

Oops.

Eddie Munson couldn't remember the last time he was so stressed. Maybe when that damn weed was almost found in his backpack. Or when Wayne was lecturing him after he had returned from a band rehearsal in a not-quite-sober state.

He was about to talk to a girl he was pining over. Heck, he won't be able to. Maybe he will? Or maybe he won't. He could always turn his van around and pretend that he had no intention of going to that fucking store in the first place.

He stopped at a red light and glanced nervously at the glove box. He put a cassette in there. Maybe he was going insane, but he already knew she liked Black Sabbath. So he collected a few tracks with a similar vibe and signed it with a black marker. From Eddie :) 

He had no idea why he did it, or how he was supposedly going to hand it to her, since they had talked just once. It would appear that he was thinking of her. She would consider him a proper freak.

But there's no denying it, he was indeed thinking. He was listening to a song and then the question came to him whether she would like it too.

Green light. It wasn't that far. He had to devise a plan. He desperately needed a plan. After all, he won't march in there and tell her that he's liked her for a long time, but he gets so nervous in her presence that he can't form a proper sentence. Christ, what a fool he will make of himself.

He parked the van and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled as usual. Yeah, charming. He opened the glove box and pulled out that wretched cassette. Maybe it would be appropriate to practice what he was going to say. No. Then he would panic.

“I'm going,” he said to motivate himself. And off he went.

The idea of running away came up exactly four times. He counted.

The bell at the door marked his arrival deafeningly loud, or at least that was his impression. There was no customer in the store, but it was empty behind the counter, too. Good. Nobody's home. He's gonna just...

“Just a minute! I'll be right there!” called out (Y/N) from the back room.

Under normal circumstances, he would have waltzed out now. But what stopped him was N.I.B. playing in the background. He smirked. 

“Cool song!” he exclaimed in a sudden burst of boldness. 

(Y/N) Henderson almost went down with a heart attack hearing his voice. Son of a bitch had an excellent timing. She took advantage of the fact that he couldn't see her now. It won't be that fun when she'll have to look him in the eye.

“Yes, someone reminded me how much I like it.”

She took the cardboard box of records with her, but not to unpack them, at least not at the moment. She was gonna use it as a shield against her brother's dangerously handsome friend. It almost fell out of her hands when she saw him leaning against the counter. 

Hands on full display. Tattoos. Rings. 

“Eddie Munson,” she greeted in a polite tone reserved for the store's customers. And for the people she liked. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“I was passing by and spontaneously thought I'd take a look.”

(Y/N) found this to be a reasonable explanation, but Munson nearly burst into laughter.

“In that case, can I help you with something?” she asked with a smile, pointing to something with her thumb. “Heavy metal in that alley over there.”

Eddie strolled slowly through the store, but he hadn't come here to buy anything. His gaze kept returning toward the counter. (Y/N) tried to pretend she wasn't aware of that.

“So,” began Munson, Paranoid vinyl in his hands. “Black Sabbath?”

“Hell yeah,” replied (Y/N), crossing her arms over her chest. “I hope you know that you've scored some points with that lyrics, N.I.B. is one of my favorites.”

“Devil falling in love,” whispered Munson, before he had time to think it over carefully. “What a familiar concept.”

(Y/N) Henderson felt suddenly overwhelmed by his intense gaze. The tension was almost unbearable. 

“Aren't you of those who interpret this as a deception to the depths of hell?”

“One does not exclude the other,” Eddie replied simply, putting the record back in place. Now it was his turn to tremble under her watchful gaze. “I lied earlier.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow.

“Excuse me?”

Eddie decided that he had enough of beating around the bush. May Ozzy Osbourne protect him.

“I specifically came here to see you,” he explained, covering his face with a strand of dark hair. “Mike told me I would find you here. Dustin I couldn't force. He declared himself the protector of your honor.”

(Y/N) thought that she had overheard at first. Just the fact that Eddie was so close and talking to her about music was already a lot. And now she finds out that he came here for her? Then the second part of his statement reached her ears and she started laughing.

Yes, typical Dustin. Little brother in shining armor.

Munson couldn't hold back a smile at the sight of her laughing face. He reached into his jacket pocket for the tape and decided that it's once in a lifetime occasion.

“I wanted to give you this, too. Maybe it's a little silly, but our tastes are similar, so...” he said, walking up to the counter and handing it to her.

(Y/N) wasn’t laughing anymore when she accepted the gift. She turned it in her hands, then looked at him with big doe eyes. Eddie's heart melted.

“Thank you,” she choked out, touched by this small gesture. No one had made a compilation especially for her until now. “I'll listen to it as soon as I get home.”

“The first one is N.I.B.” Eddie smiled softly. “I hope you like the rest of it as well.”

Their little soap bubble of mutual adoration burst when two women entered the store with the ring of a bell. Both (Y/N) and Eddie frowned at the sight. Zero privacy. Someone had the audacity to go shopping.

Eddie Munson scratched his neck nervously and lowered his gaze.

“I'm sorry for bothering you at work for so long. I should get going,” the boy apologized, then pointed to a stack of records. “Your prices are astronomical. Making up for it with customer service though.”

(Y/N) only then realized that Eddie was about to go. He'll leave her here for the rest of the shift with a smoldering hope and an adorable choice of gift. Definitely not happening.

“Wait,” she called as Munson was already turning to leave, to which he immediately turned back.

“Yes?” She'd tell him to leave, he'd leave in a hurry. She'd tell him to wait, he won't budge.

“How can I return the favor?” she asked, lifting up the tape. “A serious question. I don't like being in debt.”

Eddie stood for a moment with his mouth open, searching for the right answer.

“This is the part when you ask me out,” prompted (Y/N) suddenly, coming to the rescue.

“Would you say yes?”

“Oh, come on, you dumbass.”

Eddie barely made it to the car, but had to sit down for a long moment and recover. He could still feel the subtle touch of her lips on his cheek. 

He managed to get a date with a gorgeous girl who listens to Black Sabbath.

Thanks, Ozzy.

[thora-jane]

Take My Hand (Shang Chi x female!Reader)

THIS WAS AN ASK FROM @aliiiyyaaah so here you go lovely I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @aliiiyyaaah @superblyspeedydragon @bamboozledflamplant

If I left you out of the taglist lmk!

Ask:i dk what i want exactly but obviously it’s shang chi x reader😹😹 ummm just super fluffy i guess like obviously they not friends since forever but what like maybe 2-4 years ? and it could be a movie plot or just a general fluff But CAN YOU INCLUDR A PART WHERE HE HUGS HER FROM BEHIND??😹if that’s okay?

Summary: Karaoke Night takes a turn when you and Shang Chi find each other connecting on a more physical level

Word count: 1,578

Warning: Ain't nothin but some fluffy ending, you lovely little simps.

There are some rituals society doesn’t question, like school bells or religious services or even simply society itself. Among your group, Friday Night Karaoke was at the top of this list. It wasn’t just a ritual, it was a sacred ritual. Sure, it was never said aloud, but no matter what was going on around 8 o’clock on any given Friday evening, you all seemed to have one thing on your mind.

“You think you got it! Oh! You think you got it!” Katy was singing at the top of her lungs, jumping up and down to ‘Hey Ya’ before downing another shot with Shang-Chi.

Shang-Chi you repeated in your head. After being informed of what happened the month before, you were making an effort to call him by his actual name. Honestly, it was getting impossible to not think about him constantly. Yeah, he was your friend. But friendship didn’t stop you from hopelessly falling for him for the past...three years? God, you were hopelessly in love with this man. Whether or not he could save the world made no difference to you, it made no difference that you had watched him summon a dragon or take on assassins or defeat a massive soul-sucking monster, he had always been the same man you had fallen in love with. You swear, you would do anything for this man.

Apparently, in this moment, it meant getting up on the tiny stage next to Katy.

“C’moooon! It’ll be great!” He said with a lopsided smile as he elbowed you.

“Already? Shang Chi I think it’s your turn-”

“I’ll go next just go!” he assured, ruffling your hair.

“And like, I’ll take the rap parts so you barely have to do anything,” Katy added, grabbing your hand and pulling you out from under his touch. Before the music started you thought you heard her whisper “besides, you probably have someone in mind for this song anyway.”

You weren’t sure whether to smile or groan when the song started, but you held the mic up to your mouth and started singing anyway.

“Whatta man whatta man whatta man whatta mighty good man.” It didn’t take you long to start half-dancing with Katy as she started rapping, adding your ‘ooh’s in a little off-beat. It was when you looked up and saw Shang Chi that your heart melted again. There he was, standing over to the side, swaying and waving his arms shamelessly to hype you two up. The music was loud, but you could tell he was singing along with you at maximum volume.

After a few minutes, the song came to a close, and you and Katy stepped off stage, but not before you handed your mic over to Shang Chi, “Knock’em dead, bus boy,” you said with a smile as he took the mic in his hand. You weren’t, however, expecting him to wrap his arms around your waist, gently pulling your back to his chest as he chuckled.

“With pleasure.”

You sat back down on the couch, heart pounding and head not fully understanding what went down. You felt his breath on your neck and could feel the warmth through his shirt.

That just happened.

He took his place on the stage, you and Katy sitting on the beaten old couch that probably had at least a dozen drinks spilled on it at some point, and waited for him to start singing.

You were expecting some corny 90’s song, as that was the apparent theme of the night. Something you and Katy could scream along with from the couch, something light and funny. But from the speakers came a soft piano instrumental and your breath hitched as he began to sing.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in.” You couldn’t recall if you’d ever heard him sing seriously before. Up until that moment, it had always been casual singing filled with giggles and funny faces. But his face seemed to soften and his voice felt rich and deep, “But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be,” Heat crept up on your face, leaning forward slightly on the couch and straightening your posture. You were positively captivated by his voice, ignoring Katy’s chuckle and jabbing from her elbow.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life too,” he began to step forward slowly, past the speaker, off the stage, over to the couch.

Right in front of you, he got down on his knee and took your hand in his, his voice shaking with vibrato, or maybe even nerves “For I can’t help falling in love with you.” As the song ended, your heart froze and you watched as he gently raised your hand to his lips.

A moment passed between you, Shang Chi turned red and chuckled as he got up again, bringing the mic back up to the stage. Katy stood up, all wild applause and wolf whistles, but you remained seated, hand frozen where he left it in your lap. While Katy clapped him on the back and he shrugged off her compliments on his singing, it occurred to you that it may have been nothing more than a performance. You felt something in your heart tense up, and your stomach churned as you realized Shang Chi wasn’t looking back at you at all. It probably was just a little gag at the moment, but that didn’t mean it didn’t mean the world to you.

You looked down at where he had kissed your hand, not finding it within yourself to get up from the couch. It was then that you felt the cushion dip beside you and the brush of an arm draping against the back of the couch.

“Hey uh...We were gonna head out. Katy said I might have gotten her too strong a drink- I mean she was drinking on an empty stomach or-”

“We all got pizza right before this though?” you interrupted, still looking down at your hands with purpose.

“Oh well my metabolism,” Katy began, plopping down at your other side, “Lightening fast. It’s unbelievable. Food just goes zooming and then alcohol just sits there. It’s crazy.” She reasoned with confidence that you thought felt a little over-preformed.

“Right, we were gonna head out, and like...I could walk you home?” Shang Chi asked, standing up and holding out his hand.

You took his hand, but only briefly, not wanting to get your hopes up again.

Katy had made it home, and you and Shang Chi walked the quieter late-night streets of San Fransisco. A gentle breeze began to blow, and you felt a shiver creep in your shoulders through your tshirt, “Oh here let me-” Shang Chi began, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders, hesitantly keeping his arms wrapped around you.

You spoke softly, not shying from his touch but still unable to look him in the face, “Shang Chi, you’re the truest gentleman I’ve ever met,” You smiled, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, briefly tucking his chin in the crook of your neck.

“I just don’t want you to catch a chill,” he reassured, rubbing your arms.

“What’s got you acting like this?” You asked voice laced with genuine curiosity as you finally looked at him, suddenly aware of the proximity your faces had.

“Well…” he began, eyes locked with yours purposefully, “I just figure that...well at karaoke…(y/n) I’ve been meaning to say for a while that…” He continued to interrupt himself and trail on for nearly a minute before saying a complete phrase, “You didn’t take your hand from me.”

“No,” you blinked, “No, I didn’t,”

“Why not?” he asked, his eyes soft and searching.

“Because I liked it where it was,” you whispered.

“You did?” his eyes lit up with something, but you couldn’t quite tell what. Gently, he took your face in his hands, “Do you...do you like your face where it is?”

Your gulped, fairly certain that he could hear your heart pounding, “Yes.”

His eyes flickered to your lips, and oh-so-gently, he leaned down and closed the gap between the two of you.

You felt the prickle of his stubble under your nose. His breath smelled lightly of alcohol and his hands were intoxicating as he gently ran his fingertip under your ear back and forth. Your hands carefully found the hairline of his neck, entwining your fingertips in his hair and melting at the gentle sigh he breathed to your lips.

He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes still closed, “Did you..like where your face was at?”

You brought his face to yours again, softly planting your lips on his. This time his hands carefully moved down to your waist and rested on the small of your back, pulling you closer and hugging you tight when your lips broke off again.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you...feel the way I feel? Like am I crazy or is this actually happening?” He asked, and you could practically hear the nervous smile on his face.

“I mean personally I was hoping this was real,” you smiled, letting out a chuckle for the first time in a while that evening.

“It is real,” he assured the two of you, “I know it is.”

“If you say so, handsome,” You smiled.

“Oh, I say so.”

[writinginthedarkwood]

Werewolf! Kirishimia Eijiro: A New Meaning to Golden Retriever Boyfriend.

Thank you so dearly for this request, it was so much fun to write. Prompt #16 “Not this again.” For the fictober event. If you have a request, please send me an ask I would love to write it. 

No warnings, fluffy and cute.

"You've got to be kidding me, not this again." You looked down at your phone, a long paragraph typed up from your boyfriend Eijiro in the same format as last month. An excuse, an apology, canceling tonight's plans, and about two more apologies. Tonight he's claiming stomach issues, but you know the truth. You sigh and check your bank account. If he would just tell the truth you could tell him that it wouldn't be a problem for you to pay for the movie tickets tonight! He makes good money, he must really spend over his budget. He's so chivalrous and sweet, it might insult him to try and pay for things sometimes. You don't mind, if only he'd just open up.

You decide that enough is enough, you're going over there and you're going to put an end to the lying! He's going to let you pay for the date if you have to drag him out by his ears. You throw on the outfit you had planned for your date, cleaned up your hair and head down the street into the night air. Eijiro's house is just outside of city lines in the suburbs. He has a nice end lot with a large field behind it. You're so jealous of his view. You hop on the bus and ride with head phones on, listening to a playlist he made you. The bus can be a little scary at night, but nobody is on here except for you. It's kind of peaceful just listening to music and staring at the full moon. It's large and round face is staring down at you like a caring grandmother.

 Another text pops up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I disappointed you. I have to get some sleep, I love you baby." You rolled your eyes. It's just past 10pm! You're not letting him sit and sulk in the dark alone all night. You resisted the urge to throw your phone into your bag in frustration. He is such a wonderful boyfriend 99% of the time, but he always seems like he's hiding a part of himself. What is it? A bad childhood? A gambling addiction? Is he secretly apart of the mafia??? The bus halted to a stop and left you outside of his neighborhood, you stomped all the way down the sidewalk to the end of the line of houses and stared at your boyfriends place. The porch light is off, but the lights are on inside. You know where he keeps the hidden spare key and jam it into the lock. You almost kick the door down as you shout for your boyfriend.

 He was sitting on the couch, tying his shoe laces. He's putting on hiking boots this late? "Hey! You're awake!" You slam the door behind you and scold your red headed sweet heart. "Babe what are you doing here? It's almost midnight!" His voice is shaking. He nervously looks at the clock on the wall and stands up. "You have to go baby, I'm really embarrassed! My stomach is-" "Stop lying! Your stomach is fine!" You want to raise your voice and yell, but his giant puppy dog eyes are so cute. You jam a finger into his chest and scrunch up your mouth, doing your best to look irritated. "I knew I would get here and see you're not hunched over a puke bucket!" He put both hands on your shoulders and gently rubbed up and down on your arms. He's such a large man, he's practically a wall he's so solid. Yet he always has the sweetest touches, making sure to be so gentle with you. His callused finger tips brushed against your skin and gave you goosebumps.

 It took every ounce of restraint in you not to fall right into his arms. "I'm sorry honey, but you really can't stay here tonight. I need you to head back home." He said hardly above a whisper. He kissed your forehead and you shoved his chest with all of your might. He didn't budge, but understood you wanted him away from you so he stepped back. "Oh I'm sorry, is your booty call on the way over and I'm interrupting?" You felt like someone had stabbed you right in the heart. It couldn’t be true, he has never showed any signs of being disloyal. You’re just tired and confused.

 Eijiro looked panicked. "Oh god of course not! No, no its not like that I swear!"  He swallowed you in his arms pushing your cheek against his pecks and kissing all over the top of your head. "There is nobody other than you, I could never even think of betraying you, you're my soul mate." He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled in. His warmth overwhelming. "Well then what is it...?" You whined a bit, it's getting later and you want to just fall asleep in his arms. "Are you going to turn into a wolf at midnight?" You chuckled. His hand stopped running through your hair and he stiffened completely. You look up at him puzzled, he's staring down at you with a look of panic. "That's crazy why would you even say that?" He says all too seriously. You nervously laugh. "What's wrong? I was just joking. It's not like I really believe you're about to start howling at the full moon." Eijiro stared off into space, like his brain was loading and he couldn't think of what to say. "Right...?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "It might be a little bit like that." He scratched his head. 

You two sat in the quiet for a little bit. Every time he tried to elaborate he ended up getting caught up in his own words. You two sat awkwardly in his living room until its about 5 minutes til midnight. "I- I'm going to go to the bathroom." He quickly dismissed himself, running to his bedroom and shutting the door. You followed quickly after him. Is he insane? Does he really expect you to just sit out here while he hides pretending to shape shift to get out of movie night? He's obviously  having a difficult time, maybe his money troubles make him feel emasculated? You softly tap on his bedroom door and it slips open. The bathroom door is closed shut with the light peaking out under the crack. You walk past his bed and dressers and hear weird scuttling sounds the closer you get. You knock again. "Hey honey, why don't you come out so we can talk about this? It's okay if you didn't want to go out because of money..." You leaned against the door. "It doesn't make you less of a man to let me pay sometimes." He's so wonderful, you don't think there could be any other reason why he can be so flakey.

The sound of shampoo bottles and shaving cream canisters falling to the ground startle you. "Babe are you okay?" You turn the door nob. The door flings open, a large shape tackles you, knocking you to the ground. You let out a large wheeze, the wind escaping your lungs. "What the fu-" Your face was assaulted with a large flat tongue, licking all over you. Slobber flew across the room as a giant red dog panted and whimpered as it gave you kisses. "You're a dog! Oh my god you're a dog!" You pushed your monstrous boyfriend off of you and took a good look at him. He's huge, and even a little scary looking. His fur is bright crimson and his eyes are a daring shade of yellow. But he sat there, panting like a normal dog. You waved in front of his face. "Are you in there babe?" The dog playfully nipped at your finger, trying to pull your hand into his mouth. "Hey! No bites!" You retracted your hand and held it close to your chest. His fangs are giant. 

The wolf man got down low to the ground in the stance you've seen puppies do right before they-

 He takes off, zooming across the floor and into the living room at full speed. Pictures that lined the hallway crash to the ground. You rush to your feet and chase after him. "Wait!! Down boy! Down!!" You shout. He's already on the couch, gripping a throw pillow between his powerful jaws and shaking it. Cotton stuffing flies across the room, coating the floor. "No! Bad Eijiro! Bad doggy!" You try to wrestle the pillow away from him and fail. He topples over you, knocking you back down onto the floor and taking off across the room again, this time to the kitchen. You tenderly rub your arm, you landed on it weird and it's a little sore. Another crashing sound prompts you to get up onto your feet and run after him. The trash can is toppled over on its side, trash strewn across the floor. His snout was pushing around the garbage, looking for something to swallow. "Are you kidding me? What is with you?" You grab the wolf by the scruff of his neck, and pull him to the other side of the room away from the trash. "You sit!" Eijiro whines and sits down, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that. This is not what I thought a werewolf would be like." Eijiro's large head pushed against you, rubbing his face all over your stomach as you pet his head. "You just need to burn some of this energy off." 

You can't help but love the silly thing. He is still your boyfriend, even if he is a little different than usual right now. He followed you down the hall,  staying right by your side. He takes up most of the space, his large frame almost tipping you off balance with small bumps into your hip. You dug through a pile in his hall closet until you found an old baseball and plastic toy bat. Wow, he really needs to clean up his closet, you think to yourself. "Okay babe, let's go-" He looked up at you with all of the love in the world, hanging on your every word. You crack into a smile. "Let's go outside and play you big goof.

"The two of you trampled through the tall grass behind Eijiro's house, he seemed to use little to no effort at all. His massive paws stomping down the weeds like it's nothing. You decided you were far enough away from the neighbors and took a strong stance. You haven't hit a ball in ages, but this plastic bat is wide and should make it a little easier on you. The baseball flew high into the air, you focused and swung the bat, smacking the ball across the field. Your wolf ran, faster than any animal you had ever seen after the small object, passing it and having to loop around with a terrifying pin point turn. He grabbed the ball off of the ground so quick you barely saw the motion, and in a flash he was back at your feet. You could do nothing but shake your head and laugh. "Are you kidding me? You're amazing!" Eijiro looked pleased, so you scratched his neck fluff.

 "Alright let's see if I can hit it a little farther." 

Again, and again, and again he chased the ball across the field and back happily dropping the ball at your feet. He only made you wrestle for it once, he could probably keep the ball away from you forever with those intense muscles, but that's not as fun for him. Seeing how pleased you looked when he brought it back was filling the beast with all the pride in the world.

Eventually your arm got tired, and he seemed to have about run out of energy too. He laid down in the field and looked up at the moon. You laid your head on his stomach, the rhythm of his breathing so comforting. You just talked to him, venting about life and how weird things are in the city now. You found yourself thinking about how a simple bus ride was starting to feel too far away from him at this point. "I know you don't really understand me right now, but I really love you. I know we've said it before, but I love you. I think you're my forever person." He was laying on his paws, looking up at the starry sky. "I know you felt like you had to hide this from me, but it doesn't scare me, or weird me out." You talk quietly and close your eyes, snuggling deeper into his fur. "If I have to come throw a ball for you once a month, I'll do it. I've got friends that deal with way worse with their boyfriends." You smirked, thinking you're pretty funny. That'll make Eijiro laugh in the morning, you'll save that for later. 

The rising sun burned your eyelids, scaring you awake. You hadn't meant to stay out here for the rest of the night, but it was so late and he was so comfortable. He's much more familiar to you now, he slept peacefully as you rested on his chest. He looks worn out, but the two of you can't stay out there forever. You gently tap his face. He popped one eye open and looked around. "Oh man!" He gasped and looked down at his hands and feet. "I'm so stupid! You could get sick staying outside all night!" He put a hand on your face and cupped your chin. "Are you alright my love?" He asked with the soft voice only you get to hear. "Yeah I'm fine. How are you feeling?" "I feel fine. I'll be a little more hungry today, but it's no big deal." He looked down at the ground with a sheepish smile. "Thanks for staying with me all night." "Aw come on, it's no big deal. You're... a good boy." You teased while ruffling his hair.

 "Hey!"

My Ko-Fi -> https://ko-fi.com/writinginthedarkwoods Please send spooky requests!

[neocrush]

— enhypen reaction to hearing you sing for the first time !

genre: fluff + established relationship for heeseung and sunoo

pairings: idol!enhypen x gn!reader

note: requested by anon ♡

★ heeseung

you got into an argument, a dumb one actually

but you both being the stubborn people you are, you decided to give each other the silent treatment

you couldn’t handle it much longer

you just wanted to say sorry and cuddle with him

but then again - you didn’t wanna deflate your ego

so directly speaking to him was a no-no

so you sat there in his bed, grabbing his guitar and started strumming it

until you started playing and singing get you by daniel caesar

heeseung must’ve heard you as he slowly walked towards his room, pressing his ear on the door

he didn’t know you could play the guitar and sing

pls he had massive heart eyes

was convinced he fell in love with you all over again

he completely forgot the argument ever happened and just barged in

“you’re the love of my life.”

you stopped playing and singing and just went *instert shocked pikachu face*

“can you sing for me? please?” and you just shake your head no

pouts and gives you puppy eyes

you give in and kiss his cheek “fine, but only if you do it with me”

he nods and cuddles you as you both sing each other to sleep

★ jay

you were a new trainee at belift and he was at the studio, preparing a new song with jake and a producer

the producer had called you in to record a demo for one of the hybe groups

he wasn’t that fazed when you entered the room - the both of you having a mask and bucket hat on

as you entered the recording booth, you removed your mask and hat

you listen to the instrumental and re-read the lyrics once again as you asked the producer if you could record the song without instrumental first

the producer agreed and started recording

you got straight into the chorus, surprising jay

that specific part was in a very high key and he was shocked at how effortlessly you sang it at the first try

the recording went pretty well

but the way jay kept on looking back and forth between the lyrics he was writing and you in the booth didn’t go unnoticed by jake

you were done and had to return to practice as you bowed to the boys and producer - leaving the room

jake nudges jay, signalling him to go follow you and at least say something

jay took the hint and left the studio

“y/n!” he called out and you turned around

“your voice is beautiful. would you want to record with me- i mean enhypen some time?”

★ jake

you were part of a girl band

you played the bass and was also the lead singer

your company - a fairly small one - was just recently bought by bang pd so you were under hybe labels

your group used to perform for different high school festivals and you just happened to have performed at sunoo’s

after hearing the news that you were under hybe too, sunoo begged his members to come with him see your band at the company

“sunoo they’re there to practice, not to do free concerts” - jungwon

jake chuckled and he was the only one who agreed to come with sunoo

“hyung did you know their lead singer is the same age as you” sunoo said wiggling his brows as they both made their way to your practice room

jake just shook his head at his younger member

hearing a familiar melody, sunoo dragged the older member to what he was sure was your practice room

“sunoo you can’t just barge i-“

was he seeing an angel?????

“sunoo i thought they did rock”

“yeah but they have bsides in other genres too yknow”

you were singing your solo song twilight

jake nodded and watched you in awe, admiring how into the song you were

your members weren’t there and it may seem lonely but your voice echoing throughout the room made the atmosphere feel heavenly

once the song was over, sunoo cheered and clapped his hands as you grew shy, finally acknowledging their presence

the two boys introduced themselves to you and you did the same to them

you chuckled as you saw jake fumble on his words

“i know who you guys are, i watched your very good cover. you should try doing rock sometime, it seriously fits you guys!” you complimented them

as they grew shy, you couldn’t help but notice jake’s unique smile and how he plays with his hands when he’s nervous

“do you wanna grab lunch with us?”

“is the jake sim asking me out?”

“is the y/n l/n rejecting me?”

you both laughed as sunoo playfully rolled his eyes and you went to go get lunch with the two

★ sunghoon

you were at karaoke with the guys

all of them were having the time of their lives, doing song after song without taking breaks

jay and riki were singing new face and you were busting your lungs out watching them get tired of the never-ending song

remember when yoongi went “when does this song end” when bts was singing new face during that one run episode? yeah that’s them

when the song finally finished, jungwon noticed how you have been laughing and just sitting there the whole time

so he took the mic and pointed at you

that little shit

sunoo had already queued asap by stayc for him to sing, but jungwon insisted that you sing it since you should at least sing one song

“but that’s my song!” - sunoo

“sunoo you can do the choreo while y/n sings” - jungwon

sunoo nods, also wanting to hear you sing

(ps he wanted to do the choreo lol)

you refused and kept shaking your head until your crush, sunghoon, placed his hand on your shoulder, making your heart do backflips

“cmonnnn y/n, please?” he pouted at you

finally giving in, you stand up and grab the mic from jungwon

starting the song, your body was stiff

but once you reached the chorus, you and sunoo were doing the choreo while you sang with a big smile on your face

not you being a whole kpop idol whoop

sunghoon couldn’t help but look at you and smile to himself and blush - you looked so cute and your voice was so addicting

you even lipsynced the “i think you’re really cool” part (the one before the chorus) while winking at him

the song really brought out your inner confidence as you made sunghoon a flustered mess

once you were all finished and went home, riki showed you a video he took of sunghoon when you were singing

“dude i swear he’s super into you! look at him smiling ear-to-ear!!! he looks like he just saw an angel”

“oh shut up riki”

you mentally thanked jungwon for setting you up like that

★ sunoo

“can you sing me to sleep please?” you asked sunoo asked with puppy eyes

he poked your cheeks, nodding

“you’re so cute. of course i’ll sing you to sleep baby”

getting in bed with him, he started playing with your hair and caressing your shoulder

he softly sang love is not over by bts

what took him by surprise was that you suddenly joined in, harmonizing with him

he knew you liked music but wasn’t aware that you had such an amazing voice

he held your hand as you both finished singing the song, giggling

“baby you have the sweetest voice ever, you should sing more often” he playfully pouted

you softly laughed as you moved his bangs out frame, kissing his forehead

“i’ll only sing for you darling, i don’t want others to fall for me”

he playfully hit you as you laughed at your own joke

facing you, he looked into your eyes

“i love you so much.”

you blushed at his words

“i love you even more sunoo.”

★ jungwon

your group and enhypen were appearing on weekly idol together

your members kept on teasing you because you had previously revealed that jungwon was your ideal type on knowing bros

what you said garnered a lot of attention from knetz and engenes, some negative but most of them positive

“they would make an adorable couple”

“i wanna see them sing together”

“their visuals together would shake the whole country”

you were glad engenes didn’t hate your guys for being open about your admiration towards the boy

you being nervous was an understatement - this was your first time seeing jungwon in real life

and you expected the hosts to bring up what you said about him so you were prepared to face him directly

pls this sounds like ur about to have a boxing match w him

anyways filming started out okay until the hosts (ofc) brought up what you said

a few laughs here and there but suddenly they had an idea

“so you’re the main vocal, correct?”

you nodded at one of the hosts

“that’s perfect because it’s time for our karaoke session!”

you ended up getting paired up with jungwon to sing just one day by bts

you made eye contact the whole time and it didn’t take a genius to see the instant chemistry

your voices went so well with each other that even you and his members were shocked at how heavenly you both sounded together

you were both smiling and you could just melt right then and there

once you were done, you covered your face with your hands as you were a blushing mess

your members and enhypen clapped and one of the hosts went “you guys should sing an ost together”

you both got super shy and the rest of filming went well

a month passed and the episode aired

engenes and your fans went insane on sns and knetz were demanding a collab

it wasn’t anything serious until your ceo brought you in in a meeting with hybe executives and he popped up the question

“how would you like to feature in enhypen’s newest album?”

★ riki

your classmates were cleaning the classroom as it was the last week of the whole school year

you were sweeping the floor, humming the song that was silently playing in the background as the room was filled with chatter

riki was removing the decorations on the walls, listening to your soft hums

the songs that were being played were fairly calm

until a more energetic song suddenly played

your classmates suddenly became all energetic when i can’t stop me by twice started playing

you smiled, singing along

you were just playing around but you didn’t realize that you just hit nayeon’s high notes

“woah! y/n??? you’re really good”

you saw that riki was listening the whole time (and so was the rest of the class lol) and you got shy

you shook your head and stopped singing

“no keep going!” - a classmate

you gave in and went on with the song and riki gave you a “you’re so awesome” look

once the song was over, your classmates started playing even more hype song

a guy went “lets do karaoke!”

a girl chimed in “y/n has to go first!”

riki softly laughed and nudged you to go sing

you used the broom in your hand as a fake mic and mic stand as you sang blue hour by txt

he filmed you, zooming in on your smiling face

he was sure going to cherish that video forever

[keewriting]

Cove x MC - One Shot #5 (request)

[Read on google docs to insert your MC's name]

You blinked your eyes open and adjusted to the blearly blue scenery. Your eyes stung, but weeks of practice made the pain bearable. A fish the size of your head swam past you swiftly. You recognized it as Gerald, the parrotfish that you became well acquainted with these past few weeks. Your coworkers helped you come up with the name after realizing how attached he was to the divers. He had a rough scar across his forehead that helped distinguish him from the other fish.

Gerald was one of many fish that lived in the mermaid performance tank. A dimly lit room with space for 60 audience members held the massive circular tank. Cove Holden would stand among those 60 people during the show this afternoon. His presence in the audience induced a mixture of nerves and excitement within you. Three years ago you admitted your feelings to each other but there was still an air of uncertain awkwardness between you two. Despite that, you invited Cove to watch your first live performance today.

You looked at the waterproof stopwatch on your wrist. One minutes and 37 seconds. Your breath-holding record was almost five minutes. Growing up by the ocean gave you years of experience underwater, but the divers at the aquarium taught you techniques to extend your lung capacity. It was enough time to last through the entire four-minute performance.

You swam around the tank, propelled by your finned feet. The tank decorations made it feel like you were exploring the ocean floor. Schools of bright tropical fish populated the coral structures. A variety of colorful aquatic plants shot up from the sand. The previous part-time job you had couldn’t compare to this one. You felt at peace in the water, and more connected to Cove, who you still suspected was a real mermaid.

The pressure in your head increased and you knew it was time to surface for a breath. You checked the stopwatch as you ascended. Four minutes and 49 seconds. A new record. The air filled your lungs desperately when you broke the surface. You had plenty of time to continue practicing before the performance in four hours.

Four hours later

The chatter of a crowd filling the room triggered your nerves. The secret entrance to the mermaid tank hovered above the auditorium out of the audience’s sight. You stood between your two fellow mermaids, gripping the railing to maintain balance on finned feet. You took a deep breath and focused on the ethereal notes of the ocean lullaby.

The show’s director held up a hand to count down from three. Two. One. You followed the lead mermaid into the tank with a graceful dive. The splash of the third diver behind you was your cue to open your eyes. Once again, your sight adjusted underwater. You thrust downward with your fin and pulled up into a full loop. The guidelines for your performance were lax— as long as you executed the main tricks the show would be a success.

Finding Cove in the audience became your first goal. The visibility was low in the tank, but you couldn’t miss his seafoam green locks. He was also the tallest figure standing among a sea of small children. You swam towards his side of the tank, flapping your tail teasingly. As you drew nearer, the features on his face became discernable. The refracting light from the tank reflected beautifully on his ocean eyes. He stared at you adoringly, his mouth hung open.

You winked at him and swam swiftly to the center of the tank to avoid lingering in one spot. One of your mermaid companions held out her hands to you. In unison you held each other’s hands and pressed forward. Your faces met inches apart. She smiled at you sweetly as her long mane drifted around you. The intimacy made you blush, but your mind still drifted to Cove. You both pushed apart from each other into a smooth underwater backflip.

You swam a lap around the tank, waving to everyone in the crowd. The glowing amazement on the children’s faces filled you with warmth. Your pace slowed as you approached Cove. He stepped forward and pressed his hands against the glass. His red cheeks were unmistakable and he looked as captivated as the children on either side of him.

You thrust yourself backwards with your arms pointed above your head. Your core tightened as you performed the drill spin. The spiralling motion made you dizzy, but you recovered and stabilized. You couldn’t resist stealing another glance at Cove. His smile was wide, the childlike wonder apparent in his expression.

The final act on your list was the beloved mermaid kiss. You steadied yourself in front of Cove with your arms outstretched. His eyes widened and he moved his face closer, nose nearly touching the glass. You placed your palms on either side of your mouth and moved them into the shape of a heart while blowing air outward. The burst of bubbles formed into a heart that traveled to the glass in front of Cove. You could hear the faint sound of children squealing, but your eyes focused on Cove’s reaction. His blush deepened and he beamed at you.

Cove's expression sent butterflies to your stomach. His admiration was addicting, but the pressure felt unbearable. Your lungs needed air. You gave one final wave to the crowd and swam upwards to the dock. Your mermaid companions followed suit. The diving assistants helped the mermaids out of the water and into the locker rooms. Too focused on breathing, you all remained silent.

Your mind was racing with thoughts on how you performed and Cove’s perception of you as a mermaid. Earlier this morning you asked him to meet you outside the employee locker rooms after the show. You couldn't wait to hear his thoughts.

After the assistants helped you out of the tail you toweled off and changed into casual clothes. Your hair was still damp, but meeting with Cove was more important than looking presentable.

You bounded out of the locker room offering a quick farewell to your coworkers. The hallway stretched onward with no sign of Cove. You walked forward, hoping that he didn’t forget your plan to meet. As you turned the corner, an out of breath Cove halted in front of you.

Cove: Y/N!

You jumped backward, startled by his enthusiasm.

Cove: Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.

Y/N: It’s okay! I thought you forgot…

Your eyes lowered from Cove’s face to his hands. He was holding a colorful faux coral figurine and a dolphin balloon. You met his gaze again, one eyebrow raised quizzically. He sighed and offered the treasures to you.

Cove: People usually give bouquets of flowers after a performance, but the gift shop didn’t have any.

You didn’t speak, stunned by his thoughtfulness, but accepted the gifts. Your heart was pounding. Cove continued nervously.

Cove: I know coral isn’t a flower, or even a plant, but it’s pretty, and your performance was pretty. It made sense in my head. I hope it’s not stupid.

You wanted Cove to continue rambling, but he stopped and waited for your reaction. He clenched his fists at his sides. You couldn’t hold back a smile any longer. Relief washed over Cove’s reddened face.

Y/N: You’re seriously cute. Thank you for this.

Cove: It’s nothing, really.

His eyes darted away from you. With the coral in one hand and balloon in the other, you wrapped your arms around Cove. He gasped, but wiggled his arms out from your embrace and returned the hug. You nuzzled your face into his comforting chest. Your damp hair soaked into his t-shirt. When you pulled away you grimaced apologetically at the wet spot.

Y/N: Sorry about that.

Cove: No worries, a hug from a mermaid is always welcome.

He spoke with a hint of flirtation in his voice. You appreciated that Cove was trying.

Y/N: Soooo, what did you think? Spare no details.

Cove: Uh— I think I’ll spare some details.

He looked surprised by his own words, but continued speaking.

Cove: Anyway, I enjoyed it. The tank looked awesome, and the music was nice.

You stared intently at Cove, waiting for him to mention you specifically.

Cove: I thought Gerald did a great job. He almost stole the show.

That got a booming laugh from you. You told many stories to Cove about Gerald the fish and how he lingered near you during practice.

Y/N: I’m impressed you recognized him. Almost stole the show, you say?

You raised your eyebrows at Cove, who appeared like a deer in headlights.

Cove: It was hard to keep my eyes off you.

Cove paused, forming his next sentence carefully.

Cove: Your movement was fluid and mesmerizing, like a real mermaid.

You chuckled abruptly.

Y/N: A real mermaid? You mean like you?

Cove rolled his eyes and crossed his arms conclusively, not willing to speak anymore. You weren’t letting him off the hook this easily.

Y/N: I’d like to hear more of your thoughts. What was your favorite part?

Cove: Oh, hm.

He tapped his finger on his chin, pretending to think hard about the question. His words were a soft mumble.

Cove: The bubble kiss…

Y/N: Speak louder, Cove.

Cove huffed and hugged his arms around his body tighter.

Cove: I know you heard me, Y/N.

He groaned and hung his head. You stepped closer to him, the tips of your feet touching his. You whispered.

Y/N: Did you like seeing me as a mermaid?

Cove’s radiant eyes snapped upward. You stared into them intensely. Cove powered through your scrutiny.

Cove: Of course I did!

You burst out laughing.

Y/N: I tease you too much, don't I?

Cove: Uh-huh…

You squinted at him and stuck out your tongue.

Y/N: Or maybe not enough.

Cove: Is the interrogation finished?

You feigned indignation with an exaggerated scoff.

Y/N: Well if that’s how you see it!

You grinned mischievously and bopped his nose with your finger before stepping backward.

Y/N: If you’re lucky you might get another mermaid kiss someday.

Cove bit his lip, unable to hide that he wasn't unphased by your words.

Cove: I am proud of you. I know how hard you’ve been working.

Your expression softened.

Y/N: I appreciate that, Cove.

A wave of bashfulness consumed you for a moment. Cove’s sincerity wasn’t unusual, but it felt different this time.

Y/N: I’m glad you came to watch. Even though you were kind of a distraction.

Cove looked appalled.

Cove: What?

Y/N: To be honest, it was also hard for me to look away from you.

Cove: I wasn’t doing anything, Y/N.

Y/N: You don’t have to do anything to be a distraction.

Cove was silently pensive. You decided to be explicit for the sake of his brain.

Y/N: I like you, Cove.

His mouth fell open. You refused to believe that this was a shock to him

Y/N: But you already knew that.

Cove: You— agh. Can I take you somewhere for dinner?

The subject change caught you off guard, but you didn’t want to push Cove.

Y/N: Yes.

You hooked your arm into his.

Y/N: Lead the way, landlubber!

Cove chuckled and walked with you out of the aquarium. You felt proud of your performance, and thrilled about Cove's reaction. It was fitting that the way to his heart was through a mythical sea creature. You hoped Cove would be willing to continue the conversation about your feelings during dinner.

[the32ndbeat]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐧 - [ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟛 ]

pairing: stalker!jaehyun x fem!reader ( ft twice’s tzuyu, loona’s haseul )

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual harassment, mature themes, mentions of drugs, smoking, extreme views, misogyny, yandere themes

a/n: unedited! it’s been forever since I updated this but also considering if I should turn this into a tbz series at my tbz writing blog so we’ll see how this goes.

taglist: I don’t have one yet and I’m seeing how this does since I’m thinking whether I should convert it into a tbz series. Please do lemme know if you guys want to see this continued!

disclaimer: everything written here is FICTIONAL and I am in no way saying that the mentioned characters act like that irl!

masterlist  

(inspired by netflix’s you and the book of the same name by caroline kepnes)

The first thing that registers in my mind is how fucking loud this place is. Seriously, what is it with college parties and their inherent need to blast music loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood within a five mile radius? Before I even step within the premises or even make it to the front yard, the whole fraternity house seemed to shake from the loudness of the bass-boosted music when viewed from a distance away. I even had to squint as I approach, the strings of fluorescent party lights draped all over the place glowing so brightly it almost hurt to look straight.

A few drunk college frat boys stumble past me, their hair sticky and messy with sweat and their breaths reeking of cheap alcohol. Their steps are wobbly and I can even see drool and remnants of vomit hanging at the corner of their mouths. My heart clenches with pure disgust and I grit my teeth as I watch them laugh out loud over nothing, their brains a pink, unintelligent mush in their skulls, probably rotted by endless drinking and fucking. All part of the college frat experience.

I wonder if they enjoy being a complete waste of space while wasting mummy and daddy’s money to put them through college.

I look away and ignore the growing irritation in me. This is the sort of party your friends wanted you to go with them to? I thought your friends were bad influences but scratch that, they’re fucking horrible. They taint you, taint your innocence and put you at risk around such dangerous men who do not deserve to be even a mile within your presence. As I walk closer, the house looks even more hideous up close.

It’s decorated in the worst way I’ve seen a house decorated. It’s as if someone threw a bunch of random fairy lights bought in the brightest, blinding neon colours that simply do not go together over a sloppy looking house and the front yard is littered with empty, red plastic cups and is that a discarded bra I see over there?

I tiptoe over the trash laying around on the grass and try to avoid the gyrating bodies of college students who clearly have no sense of rhythm. My skin feels grimy within just a few minutes of being here and I can’t wait to leave but there is no way I’m leaving when I know that you will be here. The thought of you being surrounded by such vermins makes me sick to the stomach and I want to get you out of here. The only place you should rightfully be, is at my place where there are no revolting men who only love to drink cheap alcohol, party till sunrise, get high off smoking a blunt, yell ‘turn up!’ every few minutes as if it’s muscle memory in their tiny, almost non-existent brains and do anything but be a productive member of society.

As I push through the double doors, the nauseating smell containing a mixture of intoxicating alcohol, smoke and cheap cologne almost knocks me backwards. My hand grips tighter to the wooden door and I force myself in. Inside, the house is dim but bright at the same time with disco and laser lights. A massive boombox and a pair of equally large loudspeakers sit at the corner of the room and some hip hop tune is being played while people dance and drink and smoke to their hearts’ delight. You’d never believe these kids were supposed to be the future.

Oh, how disappointed their parents must be.

A girl in skimpy shorts and a tube top looks at me with unadulterated want and beckoning in her eyes while staring at the varsity jacket I’m wearing, no doubt replaying fantasies of fucking a college athlete in her mind and trying to guess which sport I supposedly play. I gaze blankly at them before turning away and I can see her shift from the corner of my eye, obviously bothered by the lack of attention. It’s like I can almost see the gears whirring in her brain. Did she not show enough cleavage? Is more skin needed to get my attention? Sometimes people are so predictable and readable that it’s almost pathetic.

Other times, I might have lowered my standards and settled for a casual fuck with someone like that but not today. Today, I’m a man on a mission. A mission to look out for you.

My eyes scan the room but it’s too dim to see anything within four feet in any direction. The flashing lights threaten to overwhelm me along with the stink of the place and booming music and I can feel my annoyance evolving into anger. I repress the urge to slap the shit out of a guy in a red bandana who screams ‘turn up’ all of sudden, practically effectively bursting my eardrums.

I almost bump into a couple eating each other’s faces out when someone yells out at me.

“Hey, you!”

The music is so loud that I almost don’t hear it. I whip around and sure enough, it’s tube top girl making her way over to me. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Not only do I have to find and save you from this sleazy place and have to squeeze in with a crowd of sweaty, brainless college kids who know nothing but party in a tiny, dirty, smelly frat house but now I also have tube top girl hot on my heels?

The things I do for you, y/n and we haven’t even properly gotten to know each other yet.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Tube top girl smiles and up close, I can see that her mascara is smudged and her hair is slicked back with an unholy amount of gel into a tight little bun which only makes her face look wider and her forehead exposed with a sheen of sweat covering it. Her lipstick is reapplied and I know for a fact that she has done it to impress me. Her top is also inched a little lower, as if that makes her anymore appealing.

I smile in a dismissive way, in a way that showed that I cared, but not really.

“Hey,” I reply flippantly.

“Crazy party huh?” She grins, satisfied that she’s got my attention now. Women.

I let my eyes drift to her breasts and look back up at her expectant, puppy dog eyes that are so eager to please it’s actually embarrassing.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name? I’m Meg.”

“I’m Jaehyun.”

“You part of any sports team in school?” And just like that I know that tube top girl must have had fantasies of fucking a college athlete.

So predictable.

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team.” I say and her smile widens, a playfulness in her eyes as she leans her chest in closer in what was meant to be a sexy gesture.

“Oh, is that so? I’ve never really talked to a competitive swimmer before,” she replies in a sultry voice and I smirk.

“Well, here I am. Am I every bit of the guy you imagined a college swimmer to be?” I whisper in an equally sultry voice. Let her think she has me wrapped around her finger. It’s easier that way. Better for her to think I’m enthralled with her and her breasts than let her cling onto me the entire night.

“Mhm,” she says, “of course.”

I’m about to reply when something catches my eye. From the window, I see you and your friends stumbling and swaying down the sidewalk, away from the party. Internally, I feel my rage simmering again but not at anyone. At myself.

How was I so late that I didn’t manage to stop this from happening? How are you already drunk? How did this happen?

A million questions are racing through my mind and my vision almost blurs with white hot anger as I imagine a slimy frat guy placing his greasy hands on you while you sit there, drunk and uninhibited in that dress that seemed to accentuate your every single curve. You look simply gorgeous in that dress and I fucking hate to think that other guys in this whole house may have made a pass at you. Why was I so late? Would I have been just a little bit earlier if tube top Meg didn’t stop me? I should have left the moment she decided to strike up conversation. This is my karma for letting other temptations get in the way. I vow to myself that this will never happen again as I extricate myself away from Meg’s clutches (“Hey! Where are you going?” She calls out and I ignore her).

I shove people out of the way and do not care for their protests and yelps. Fuck them and fuck this entire shithole of a house. I scramble through the door and maintain my distance as I follow you and your friends down the pavement and past the buildings within the campus. I watch and cringe as you seem to crumple under the weight of your friends’ arm and quickly realise that you aren’t drunk. Your friends are. Stupidly drunk.

I feel my heart relax and my stomach unclench. Of course, you wouldn’t be. You are good. And smart. Too smart to get drunk in a place like that. You know what are the risks and you are above such parties. Your friends though, I couldn’t say the same. Which brings me back to why you need better friends but that’s besides the point. I can see a few guys hanging at the other side of the street who leer at the group of you, clearly getting their dick hard at the thought of a group of vulnerable girls roaming these empty streets at night.

It’s dangerous. But that’s what I’m here for. They see me next and they look away.

I will do what I can to protect you, y/n. Even if that means protecting your good for nothing friends in the process.

All of a sudden, I see you trip and it’s like everything is in slow motion. You fall forward and I take long strides over, my legs stretching out and rushing to help you. Before your knees can hit the rough ground, I have you in my arms, encircled around your waist as I hold you up. I have your other friend, Haseul upright with my other hand tugging at the collar of her jacket. Your friend Tzuyu is not so fortunate and falls flat but she barely notices it, smiling tipsily to herself instead.

You glance up at me with those large eyes and I could get lost in them right there and then. But as quickly as we have our moment, you move away and I see a hint of suspicion in your eyes. We separate and the moment you extract yourself from my arms, I already want you back. Your touch feels addictive already. What have you done to me?

“Thanks.” You say curtly and I admire the fact that you have boundaries, not like Meg. You are hard to get and that’s what makes you so appealing. You are to be earned and respected.

You help Tzuyu to her feet and as you turn to leave with your friends, I call out, “is there any way I can help?”

You regard me with caution and open your mouth to reject me but then suddenly, the tenseness in your eyes relax.

“Do I know you?”

You remember me. Halle-fucking-lujah! I want to wrap you in my arms again but I play it cool.

“I… don’t…?”

Your eyes grow wide and the recognition seeps in.

“Wait! You’re from that hardware store right? Jaehyun?”

I pretend to be surprised when I’m actually fucking overjoyed.

“Yeah, wait… You’re that girl with the rope right?”

You laugh and it’s the most melodious thing I’ve ever heard in forever.

“Yup, that’s me. Kind of mortified that’s how you remember me but sure,” you say and your eyes twinkle but then you continue with a more subdued tone, “what are you doing here?”

I pat my chest good-naturedly.

“Friend of mine is a student here. I just came over to visit and he gave me his varsity jacket so I could try feeling like a college student for once. Never been to college so… yeah. I thought I’d like to try it out for fun.” I reply and shoot you an awkward smile, the kind you do when you try to get someone to favour you and think of you as ‘adorable’.

It works and you smile gently.

“That’s pretty cool, you’ve got a good friend.”

And you haven’t, I think but don’t say.

I gesture towards you and your friends.

“Need any help?”

You look at your drunken friends and back at me and I sense you thinking. Finally, you decide that you do need my help and chuckle, “We live right at that block over there and I think I might die halfway there. I’m not fit enough to hold 2 people.”

That’s so like you. So compassionate over friends who clearly didn’t give a shit that you didn’t want to go to some god forsaken party, so caring over friends who get drunk and don’t take responsibility, so helpful to take care of friends who literally do not give a fuck about you. You are not beautiful on the outside but on the inside too and as I loop Tzuyu’s arm over my neck and hold her, I wish I was holding you instead.

We amble over to the front of your block and we part, you thank me and we say our goodbyes and it’s all too soon. I want to be with you for longer, I want us to talk and I want you to invite me to your room but reality is often much less exciting and more boring.

“I’ll see you!” You call out, smiling as I walk away and I wave back, my heart soaring.

Today is a good day, I think and as I round the corner to the next street, I slip the keycard out of my pocket and feel the hard plastic under my finger.

Wasn’t difficult honestly. Your friends should really learn to keep their valuables in safe places, not the back pocket of their jeans.