#things get funky next chapter

[fukcnoplease]

Things Always Go Wrong Pt3

Pt1 Pt2 Pt4 Pt5

Gotham was truly testing her abilities. Usually she could vibe check the building and be good but the vibes of Gotham were rancid everywhere she went. Every building and street had some varying level of unsafe and she could feel Danny slowing behind her. He wasn't going to stay on his feet for much longer. Thankfully there were plenty of alleys they could probably hide in and even though it was already midmorning the thick smog on the city made it look like the dawn had only just broken. The alleys were still dark and as soon as she paused at the back of the alley she felt Danny collapse into her. His breathing was ragged and he was slick with sweat. She tried vibrating her core at him and the response she got was uncoordinated and harsh. It was as if two things were trying to respond to her, attempting to drown each other out.

“Shit.” she said. Jazz would be mad for her language, you know, if she didn't kill her for killing her brother. 

“Found you, wretch.” A voice said and Dani shot up into a fighting stance. The entrance of the alley was blocked by five people, all dress head to toe in white and aiming several weapons at them. They were all men and significantly bigger than her. That would be fine in her ghost form but transforming in front of them was risky.

Danny groaned from the cold alley floor and Dani grimaced. She growled, inhumane and low, and punched her palm as she went ghost. Showing her transformation was a small price to pay to protect Danny and they probably had her, or Danny’s, ecto-signature if they had managed to follow them cross state lines so accurately. 

Their weapons hummed as they charged and Dani caught a glimpse of color above them. Praying she had seen right she took in a breath and shouted her words.

“I am the princess of the Infinite Realms. Any harm that comes to me is a direct attack on the entire dimension of the Infinite Realms and cause for a war between our worlds!” Internally she cringed at her words but she prayed they had the right effect. 

“Ha! Like you could fool us, you manipulative ecto-sum! You’re coming with us. If you're lucky you might even make it in one piece” The leader, she assumed as he was standing at the front of the group, said. She tensed in case her gamble went south and prepared for something to hit her. 

Thankfully she didn't feel anything and a yellow hero came crashing down on the agents with a ferocity she wasn't expecting. He used what she thought were escrima sticks but they were connected together with a long wire and looked modified. He downed the panicked agents in seconds and turned to Dani. Unconscious agents littered around him.

His sudden movements made her drop into a defensive stance and he froze. Gently putting away his weapons as he raised his hands to show he meant no harm.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying to help.” The man paused as he looked over the two disheveled siblings. The white haired girl was glaring at him but looked more wary than aggressive and the dark haired boy on the floor looked incredibly ill. “Would it be ok if I helped you? I can call some friends and we can get you to a safe space.”

Dani stared the man down. He could fight, and right now she wasn't confident she could take him. Not while protecting a very incapacitated Danny. He had a black bat symbol on his chest which was good but also bad. Good because Batman was a hero and helped those in need. Bad because Batman was famous for not liking metas and while she and Danny weren’t metas she doubted Batman would care enough to make the distinction. Hopefully if she played up the royalty bit she could get maybe some leeway.

“Ok, bumblebee, but I want you to promise you wont hurt me or my… ambassador,” Danny was going to be so mad when he woke up, “or I will bring the entire Infinite Realms down on this world.” She did her best to sound threatening and maybe using some energy to make herself scarier but she wouldn't admit it.

“Of course, your… highness?” Bumblebee asked. Dani frowned, she didn't like ‘your highness’ but she couldn't give her actual name…

“You can call me… Elle.” She felt her insides crumple up at how cringey that name felt and she was very glad Danny was out cold for this conversation. The bumblebee hero nodded and said something into what she assumed was an earpiece. After a few minutes of discussion he went quiet and began watching the roofs. Dani floated off the ground slightly, trying to see what he was looking for. She didn't notice the surprise that flitted across his face at her show of power or the silent black hero who landed gracefully beside Bumblebee. 

“Hey Black Bat. Can you help me gather these guys up? Batman should be en route but might take a minute to get here.” Bumblebee said. Dani whipped around to see the new hero, black bat apparently, silently working her way through the knocked out GIW.

“Batman is coming?” Dani asked, anxiety making her fidget with her hands. That wasn't good. She couldn't pretend to be a princess around him, he could practically smell lies, or fear, and maybe she could be the princess of the Infinite Realms but she wasn't officially! Not yet at least. And Danny definitely wasn't her ambassador. Shit, maybe if she played up with the sad little girl image? Batman was known to take pity on kids… or was that one of his allies. She should’ve listened in on the conversation the bumblebee had had earlier, maybe she would have had something to work with then.

Black bat and bumblebee worked together to tie up the GIW and leave them in an easily accessible spot for when the police came around. Black bat touched bumblebees bicep and he looked up to see the scary shadow of Batman looming over the alley. Dani notices him too and landed in front of Danny, spreading her arms to block him from Batman's view as he landed beside the other heroes.

“Report.” Was all he said as he looked over the scene. His gaze lingered on the unconscious boy and Dani had to resist growling at him, in case that ruined her case for receiving help. Bumblebee took a breath and nodded.

“I found these two as they were about to be attacked by a group of people,” he gestured to the tied up men in white, “it looked like meta trafficking and I stepped in. Elle,” he gave a smile to Dani who cringed internally, “gave the men fair warning about their attack being against royalty and at risk of ruining dimensional relations, they refused to back off.”

Batman responded with a noncommittal ‘hn’ and narrowed his eyes at Dani who prickled under the gaze.

“For the record,” Bumblebee added, a little hesitant, “I believe her.”

Batman nodded and took a step closer to Dani and this time she did growl. The man stopped and regarded her. She glared back. He wasnt coming near her or Danny. Not in his state.

“Would you like to come with us?” Was all batman said. Stern and quiet. Dani didn't move, she looked over Batman’s unmoving face and then back at the bumblebee and black bat. The bumblebee hero looked worried but more for Batman than Dani and the black bat seemed relaxed as she watched.

“Where are you going to take us?” Dani asked. Batman frowned slightly and Dani worried he would just try and grab them. 

“A place where we can keep you safe and confirm your royal status,” he said. Dani didn't really like the sound of that but she could feel Danny getting worse and she was running out of time to make a decision. When he chose that exact moment to let out a pained groan Dani almost smacked him. Batman’s frown deepened and Dani felt her throat bob.

“We might even be able to help your friend.” He offered.

“My ambassador,” She corrected, if she was gonna sell this she had to go all out, “And I don't want you to lay a hand on him.”

Batman gave her the slightest, stiffest nod she had ever seen and she relaxed. Batman nodded to the other heroes and black bat vanished, bumblebee paused before leaving himself. Dani felt her anxiety come back threefold at being left alone with the big bad bat but in a few seconds a fancy black bat shaped car skidded to a halt outside the alley. In the passenger seat was the familiar bumblebee, he grinned and waved at them. Batman stared at him in what Dani thought could be disapproval but said nothing. The doors to the suped up car popped open and bumblebee stepped out.

“You can get in the back seat. Do you need help with your ambassador?” He said as he stepped back into the alley. Dani shook her head and Batman made a grumbling sound.

“Signal.” he said. Bumblebee, signal apparently, shrugged and continued towards Dani until she stiffened.

“I just wanted them to have a familiar face so the journey wasn't too stressful. Black bat and Spoiler are covering me while I stick with them.” He said, smiling at Batman and then turning back to Dani. He moved to help her pick Danny up but she shook her head at him and he stepped back. Batman made another ‘hn’ sound before retreating to the driver seat of the car. 

Dani moved Danny around and picked him up by throwing him over her shoulder. He wasn't heavy but he was bigger than her and it made him difficult to carry. Signal, she preferred bumblebee, hovered around her but was careful not to touch Danny as she carried him to the car. They managed to get Danny securely in the back seat of the batcar and Dani slid in next to him. He looked worse. Maybe moving him wasn't the smartest idea but Dani didn't know what else to do. If the GIW had their ecto-signature there wasn't a safe place to hide. Maybe Batman would be able to protect them but it would only last so long. She pushed aside her fears and gripped Danny’s too warm hand. The scenery went passed too quickly for her to see and the drive was silent. She was starting to hate road trips.

~~

This is short but the next one is gonna be LONG I got distracted anyway I love that people are enjoying this, i like writing it :)

[blackjackkent]

Me> [struggling to unravel a very annoying UI bug]

My brain, entirely unprompted> H E Y. IF JAHEIRA HAD USED SOME MORE MINOR VERSION OF THAT RITE OF THE TIMELESS BODY ON RASAAD TO EXTEND HIS LIFESPAN, IT WOULD RESOLVE THE MORE FINICKY TIMELINE ISSUES ABOUT RION BEING THEIR KID.

Me> ...ok? I didn't ask right now but thank you for working that out I guess.

[777heavengirl]

Bless the Telephone ; ##03

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,858

warnings: technically a kiss that is not... desired or consented to? but its quick

a/n: my exams tmr!! i’m shitting bricks lord- also final chapter of bags tmr as well 🤧

series masterlist

main masterlist

You quietly decided to keep your phone on your night table, the cord was a little over-extended from the opposite wall and you were slightly afraid that if you tripped on it the phone would fall to the floor— but it was easier this way; you decided, when James called the next day.

“Hello?” you groaned into the phone, cutting off the loud ringing as fast as you could

“Were you sleeping?”

“Potter?”

“Who else would be calling your phone?”

“Other people also call me- what time is it?”

“Like eleven thirty, didn’t know you were an early sleeper doll”

“Eleven thirty isn't early idiot-” you groaned as you tried rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Didn’t think I was going to hear from you anymore”

“Why is that? I obviously gotta call my best girl”

“You don’t even know me”

“Yes, I do— why did you think I wouldn’t call though? I told you I wanted to be friends you silly girl”

“You said you wanted to be friends— But you hung up yesterday,” you held the phone to your ear, the side of your face still pressed against your pillow. “Rather suddenly too”

“Ah, I’m sorry- you know I’m a little funky with phones-” You could almost hear the hesitation in his voice

“D’you mean hopeless?”

“Oh hush-”

“I don’t believe you by the way- but I’ll let it slide” You sighed, stretching your body a bit

A beat of silence stilled over the two of you.

“Thanks…” you hummed in response “What are you up to?” James said, a smile evident on his words

“I was sleeping Potter, do you know what that means?”

“I have a clue yeah- why are you sleeping so early though?”

“Eleven thirty at night is not early, but I’m meeting someone for breakfast tomorrow- I wanted to be well rested”

“Ohhh you’re meeting someone, is it a boyfriend?” you rolled your eyes

“I don’t think he’d describe us that way” He really wouldn’t, not even close

“Do you wish he would?” the anxiety at the pit of your stomach quickening your heartbeat. 

“Goodnight James” you mumbled, eyes wide open now, you could feel the blood pumping as you lifted to rest on your elbows. 

He didn’t hesitate, seemingly understanding “Goodnight love” 

You hung up.

- 

You guessed you shouldn’t be surprised. You had sat at the small coffee place for an hour and a half yet— not a trace of him. 

You threaded your arms into your coat, grabbing your purse quickly. You felt as if you were running away from embarrassment itself as you crossed the street hurriedly. You caught the sight of the bright red of a pay phone from the corner of your eye, not far from where you stood.

You felt stupid, you decided, as you pulled out the little phone book that you kept in your bag. You had written James’s number in it that morning, you didn’t know why. Stupid stupid stupid.

You sorted through the contents of your purse looking for change to put into the damn box, marking the number soon after. 

The phone rang. Rang. Rang.

Someone picked up 

“Oi-“ didn’t sound like James

“Is James Potter there?”

“Ohhh is this who I think it is?” the voice snickered

“Who’s this?”

“Sirius- James’s more handsome friend,” Sirius said matter-o-factly, you rolled your eyes

“Is James there? You know what-” You looked around, suddenly too aware that he could be just around the corner. 

You didn’t wanna see him. 

“nevermind- I’ll call back later”

“Hello?” a familiar voice broke through 

“James?” you bit your lip, relief flooding through you. you didn’t know why you felt this way

“Yeah, doll- what’s up? I thought you were supposed to be out with your not boyfriend”

“Yeah… I guess he had better things to do this morning” he made a noise of indignation, you felt so stupid “probably with another not girlfriend if we’re honest”

“oh love I’m sorry-“  

“no no, it’s fine really… I really… need to get it through my skull that he’s not particularly interested… it’s not the first time- sorry I called”

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I just didn’t know what else to do”

“that’s what friends are for you know… and we are”

“Thanks, Potter”

“You really won’t let that go huh”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ “Sorry Potter” James laughed, his snickers pulled at the corners of your lips

“Are you spending the rest of the day at home then?”

“Probably— but I’ll call you in a bit yeah? I’d rather leave now, I didn’t think it through before I called” You covered your face with your hand as a group of people passed by. “Im still in the middle of the street”

“How are you calling then?” He sounded genuinely confused

“a pay phone?”

“o-oh… right, call me back when you get home then… or I’ll spam call you again”

“alright alright-“ you both laughed, light and airy. breathless “Thank you, James”

You hung up the call, still gripping the handle of the phone with white knuckles as you exhaled. 

You needed to get out of there.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you ran down to the tube’s station, you could feel the adrenaline of excitement in your veins as you passed the various stops towards your flat.

“Hey,” You said, catching your breath as you entered, your roommate mumbled a vague hello from her desk as she hunched over her architecture assignment. 

“By the way the phone’s been ringing off it’s bloody base for a while now- I dont know what sort of call center you got going on in there,” she said, looking up from her sketchbook. 

You laughed as you took your coat and scarf off.

The phone rang again

“I’m serious if you’re running some sort of telephone scam I want a cut-”

“I’ll let you know if it pans out” you said with a laugh, crossing the distance between the door and your room. You closed the door quickly behind you, launching yourself to grab the phone

“I thought I was going to call you Potter, my roommate thinks I’m running a telephone scam”

“Who’s Potter?” He said. It wasn’t James, obviously, his voice starkly different. A spark missing in it. 

“Oh-”

“You sound like you were expecting someone else?” 

“N-no it's no one- why are you calling?”

“Why aren’t you here? I just got here” he said, almost in indignation. you glanced at the clock

“It’s been two bloody hours, I went home—” 

“Oh-”

“Yeah… oh”

“I’m sorry sweets, I had things to take care of… I’m sure you can understand that come on”

“And you just thought I’d wait?”

“I thought maybe you’d cut me some slack- you should come… I don’t know maybe I misread you”

You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know… I just got back”

“How about I go over there then hm” he just wants to get in my pants… you could practically hear your own thoughts… your ears rang

“My roommate’s home-”

“And?” 

You sighed, you felt so stupid.  

“Come on- I'm sure she won’t mind”

“I can ask her…”

“Wicked, I’m on my way yeah?” He hung up before you could refute.

You groaned into your hands, you didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You wondered if you ever did.

You didn’t think you wanted him anymore… you thought of James briefly.

You popped your head out your door

“Would you mind it if someone came over…”

“As long as it’s not that poor excuse of a man then sure I don’t mind-” She said looking over her shoulder casually. “It’s the rat, isn't it? god you never learn”

“He stood me up today Char- I don't know what to do anymore…” you screamed into your hand, you tried swallowing the knot in your throat “He just called asking where I was- I waited for him for over an hour… he basically invited himself over”

“Is that who’s been blowing up your phone the past week?”

“No… that's…” you looked away, “no one,” you needed to call James back

“Why so cagey” she wiggled her eyebrows, “Is it another suitor? Do I know him? Have you guys gone out yet? Why is he calling you every day?”

“Jesus slow down Charlotte- god…” you sighed, leaning against the door frame “It’s just a friend”

She narrowed her eyes, staring at your face

“Good god- you like this friend”

“Charlotte no! I just met him,”

“And?”

“We haven’t even met… properly” 

“But you’ve spent hours on the phone the past couple of days it's him right? you’re paying the difference in the phone bill by the way” she said, you rolled your eyes with a nod

“Maybe- but it doesn’t mean anything okay? It can’t, we are just… becoming friends”

As Charlotte smirked, ready to tease you further there was a knock at the door— she groaned

“I can’t believe you’re letting that disgusting pile of shit in here- Again”

You agreed with her. You did. You couldn’t believe the situation, not how you bent over so easily nor his audacity. You didn’t say anything, you couldn't bear to meet her eyes as you went to answer with a huff.

“Hey, sweets-” You barely opened the door before he pushed his way through. “Ah- Lottie how are you?”

“Detrimental now that you’re here, how about you go terrorize some bar instead of terrorizing my home and my roommate hm?” She bit

He just smirked

“We both know you’re the only one day drinking here- besides I don't hear y/n complaining.”

You knew Charlotte expected you to refute. You stared out the window, you could feel his hand wrap around yours and your roommate sigh. 

You were slowly dragged to your room.

You could hear the TV turn on soon after your door closed. Charlotte turned the volume up to the max again. But you knew this time, there was no humor behind it.

Joshua was not a peculiar man. He was quite bland, a common brand of man you avoided your whole life, too cocky and full of himself, too sure that you along with everyone else wanted him, too much money and not enough responsibilities. He was despicable for all intents and purposes. Never committed, never made good on his word, and never answered the phone unless it served him. But somehow… you found yourself in his web, like a mouse trapped in a glue trap. 

You thought of James again, briefly, fleeting, as Josh pressed his lips against yours. You wondered if James was waiting for your call if he even cared if you called back… 

The phone rang. Loudly, annoyingly. A saving grace. 

You rushed to answer it, James’s voice coming through the other end

“Did you forget to call back or what?” You sighed in relief, a smile instinctively spreading across your lips. 

“Hey-” you sat on your bed, “something like that…” you turned to Josh, as he stared at you dumbly. This is going to be a while- you mouthed. 

He left with a huff. 

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [POGUELANDIA] - FEVER DREAM

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3.7k] It's been a week since you and your friends were dropped into the middle of nowhere. But the self-proclaimed 'Poguelandia' has served as a break for you all from the drama and chaos back home, but it may also present chances for growth and changes, good and bad...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, kie x reader drama (again), omission, mentions of self-doubt, allusions to suicidal thoughts (if you squint), mentions of injuries

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I think I finally found my motivation again so here's chapter 1/3 of Poguelandie before we get into season 3 of SVN, also, taglist ppl, ik it's been acting funky for a minute so I'll see if it works better in the comments, also new taglist people, please use the taglist form in my pinned post to be added, it makes it a lot easier to keep track of new people who want to be added so i don't have to go through my replies and mentions and blah blah blah

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

THE SALTY OCEAN BREEZE WHIPPED THROUGH YOUR HAIR AS YOU SURVEYED THE VAST EXPANSE OF THE DESERTED ISLAND, Poguelandia as you’d all claimed it. 

It’d been a week since you and your friends washed up on the shore of the unclaimed piece of land — carving your symbol into a tree and crafting a flag that swayed in the wind. Sure, a chicken in a coconut bra, smoking a J in Crocs wasn’t the most intimidating “stay off of our land” flag but it was something.

You were planted in the sand, next to your dwindling bonfire, watching your friends surf in the water using the poorly constructed boards the guys had made — unreliable pieces of driftwood and lots of twine apparently made an oddly useful flotation device.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to join in on the festivities. Your personal island nurse, Cleo, basically forbade you from entering the water, claiming the salt water would only soften the scar tissue she’d burned into your leg with a heated knife she’d held over a raging bonfire. The smell of burning flesh and the pain of the scorching metal against your thigh only served as a distant nightmare, making you cringe at the memory. 

“Hey,” A voice appeared next to you, looking up to find Kiara’s bikini clad frame looking down at you, brown curls dripping with sea water. “How’re you doing?” Over the last week, you two had found some common ground. You didn’t expect things to be normal right away, or possibly ever again. But you were glad you could still talk to her. “Need some company?”

You shrugged, a longing smile on your face as you glanced at the rest of your peers fooling around in the water before turning back to her. “I’m doin’ okay, but feel free to join me. …Or did my nurse send you over here to make sure I don’t sneak into the water?” You asked, playfully squinting your eyes as Kie took a seat next to you, digging her feet into the sand.

The girl laughed lightly, head dipping down as the lowering sun illuminated the highlights in her hair while casting an orange hue over the deserted island. “No Nurse Cleo supervision here. Promise.” But the humor in her words didn’t seem genuine, almost like she had something to say. As if something else was on the tip of her tongue. “...How do you feel about her, by the way?” Kiara asked quietly, avoiding your eyes as she played with the grains of sand — letting the materials slip through her fingers.

“Who? Cleo?” You asked, a lopsided smile on your face.

“Yeah, like…do you trust her?” Kie asked, finally meeting your eyes. “Do you think she even really trusts us? I mean, she said it herself — we’re just her better option.”

You simply shrugged, making a face of uncertainty. “I don’t know…I don’t think she meant it like that.” You defended the girl. “I wouldn’t say I fully trust her just yet, but I do think she’s genuinely on our side.” You told your friend, watching as she drew her lips into a thin line, nodding almost as if she expected your answer but still wasn’t satisfied with it.

“...And you don’t find it weird that she just decided to up and run off with six strangers?” Kiara prodded, tone growing increasingly more confused, bordering annoyance. “And then saying she wants a cut of the gold? Like, come on...”

You couldn’t help but chuckle out of mild disbelief. “You don’t find half of the things we’ve done weird? Running from the cops even though we’re innocent? And, like, one-hundred other things that don’t make sense?” You countered, shaking your head. “And her wanting a cut of the gold isn’t crazy, in my opinion.” You shrugged, leaning back on your arms, fiddling with a leaf between your fingers. “I mean, she saved half of our lives. And she’s the main reason we made it off that ship. Without her help, who knows what could’ve happened…”

“I think you’re giving her too much credit.” Kie scoffed, standing from her spot and brushing herself off. You couldn’t help but make a face of offense at words, hearing the clear disagreement and disdain in her tone.

“...I’d probably be dead without her, Kie.” You spoke slowly, eyeing the girl as she paced smally on her feet, rolling her eyes as you continued speaking. “If anything, she deserves more credit than we’ve given her.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that we can’t trust everyone just because they help us. And I think being on this island is making everyone forget the fact that she could still be a threat to us-”

“But she isn’t. She’s stuck here, too-”

“She chose to be.”

“Exactly.” You quipped, tone short. “She chose to come with us and be stranded here. We all did.” You put it simply. “Look, I know we should be weary of who we let around us, but you’re not even giving her a chance.”

At your words, Kiara fell silent, running a tense hand through her mess of wet curls. “None of you get it.” She sighed under her breath, shaking her head side to side. “When she screws us over, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Was the last thing she offered in response to you before walking off into the trees, disappearing. 

You simply shook your head — what could Cleo have done for Kie of all people to have such a disdain for her? Distrust was one thing and that was reasonable. But it was clear that the island girl put a sour taste in Kiara’s mouth. Just days ago, Kiara brought up how much you’d been hanging out with the girl in question, making a joke about being replaced. But maybe there wasn’t as much humor there as you’d initially thought…

“Hey, where’d you go?” Kiara asked, looking up at you from where she was digging holes near the shore, looking for turtle hatches.

“Banana Leaf hunting. Cleo says they're good for healing and she was gonna try to make a bandage for my leg.” You replied, shielding your eyes from the sun as you limped closer to her.

“Well, when you find one, make sure it’s big enough for both of you.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. I just figured it’d be easier if it was bigger considering you and her are like attached at the hip now.” She muttered, side-eyeing you with a slight smile that let you know her words were lighthearted.

“Oh, whatever. Don’t be like that. I just don’t want her to feel like an outcast.” You scoffed with a playful smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Just know you can’t replace me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

…Did Kiara feel that Cleo was a threat to the group…or to her? Caution or jealousy? And if it was the latter, was it platonic or something deeper? You guessed that would always be the question now…

“CAN YOU FEEL IT NOW?” JJ asked for the fifth time as his index and middle finger pressed into the skin below your knee — wide, blue eyes boring into your own. The boy was still slightly damp from surfing as the two of you sat under the shade of a palm tree — your other five friends some feet away, laughing around a bonfire as the sun finally set.

“Yes, I can feel it, JJ.” You reassured the boy once more, rolling your eyes in playful annoyance. “I’m not going to lose my leg, you know.”

“Cleo said to make sure that your leg isn’t cold or discolored and to make sure you still had feeling. I’m just following the doctor’s orders.” He told you, continuing to press his fingers up the length of your leg. “Especially when the doctor has a machete and an attitude problem…” He muttered.

At this, you sighed, throwing your head back. “Ughhh. You too?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as JJ made a face of confusion —sitting up straighter. 

“What do you mean “me too”?”

“Why is everyone giving her such a hard time?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Who? Cleo?” JJ inquired, sitting down across from you and dusting the sand off of his hands.

“Yes.” You answered. “I mean, she saved our asses when she didn’t have to. And she hasn’t given us any reason to not at least try to trust her. We’ve been stranded for a week. If she had some trick up her sleeve, I’m sure she would’ve used it by now. We don’t really know her and she doesn’t really know us. She’s not as rude as she may come off once you get to know her. But you guys won’t talk to her.” You defended.

“...Well, I was just joking, Princess. Cleo’s good in my book, she even taught me some knife tricks.” JJ chuckled, surprised at how you jumped to the girl’s defense. “And I’m not sure what you mean.” He continued, face contorting in confusion. “John B and Sarah seem pretty cool with her and I’m pretty sure Pope has a thing for her, even if he doesn’t know it. And Kie… hasn’t said much to her, I don’t think.” He pondered, seeming to connect the dots. “Did Kie say somethin’? Is that it?”

“I don’t know…” You started, twiddling with your fingers. “She’s suspicious of her, I guess. She thinks Cleo’s only with us because we’re her best bet and because she’s still holding out on the hope that we’ll get the gold and she basically thinks we’re all being blind to the possibility of Cleo being a threat. And she came at me so… aggressive about it. It was weird…”

“...Are you sure Kie doesn’t have another issue with you?” JJ asked, squinting his eyes from the emerging moonlight as he looked at you. “I know girl drama is usually lowkey.”

You met his eyes as his words registered in your mind. It was at this moment that you realized JJ still had no idea of the real reason for the crumbling of your life-long friendship with Kiara. Or rather the reason for it. And you were questioning whether to speak now or forever hold your peace…

“I noticed you guys kind of seemed off for a while. But I figured it was just something small.” 

“Uh, yeah…” You trailed off, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes. “Something like that.” You shrugged, jutting your bottom lip out.

“I’m sure you guys will work it out.” He shrugged mindlessly, rubbing a hand up and down your calf. “You always do.”

“...I don’t know, I think it’s a bit different this time…” You said solemnly. It was the first real wave of emotions that you’d felt about the situation. Kiara was in love with you. And your friendship with her would never be the same. It was a strange, unwelcomed thought. Kiara was like a sister to you. To experience the fall of your relationship with her had a particularly rough sting to it. 

“What makes you say that?” JJ asked, pinching his eyebrows together. You didn’t respond immediately, eyes flicking up to his then back down to where they were focused on his fingers rubbing circles into your leg. “Hey,” JJ called to gain your attention, your eyes finally locking with his own. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

You shook your head with vigor, pinching your lips together before speaking. “No, no, I can’t. Not this time.”

“Baby-”

“JJ, I can’t.” You said exhaustedly. You wanted to tell him so bad, to get the weight and confusion off of your shoulders. But it wasn’t your place. “It’s Kie’s business. It’s not my place-”

“It is.” He tried, clearly growing frustrated. “Whatever happened is clearly affecting you both. That makes it your place and I’m sure Kie will get over you telling me-”

“It’s not that simple.” You snapped, expression softening when you realized how aggressively low your tone had dropped. Sighing, you continued. “I’m sorry, okay? But it really isn’t that easy, J. It’s really…weird and complicated and-” You stopped your ranting when JJ leaned forward, moving the hand that was on your leg to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay.” He assured you, offering a light smile before pecking you softly on the lips --- the taste of sea salt lingering faintly. “I don’t want to make things worse between you two, okay? I get it.” He told you, but you could see that he was still, if not more, curious about it now. You realized you may have put yourself into a tighter space than you were sitting in before. Which would only make it harder to get out of. 

NIGHT HAD COMPLETELY FALLEN BY NOW. It was so weird how the days seemed to go by much faster. It was like there was never enough time in the day now to do anything. Where it seemed like the sun never went down when you were being shot at, chased, and kidnapped — it seemed like there was nothing but the moon and stars now.

The boys were starting another fire, since yours had gone out, while you and the other girls lounged around — watching them twirl sticks and blow into the smoke. Eventually, John B sighed, side-eyeing the four of you. “Since none of you want to help, can you at least go and find more firewood? Or something to eat? These fish are only gonna last us tonight.”

“The sun’s gone down.” Sarah quipped, a quizzical brow raised. “Can’t exactly fish in the dark.”

“No, but you can hunt.” JJ retorted, shooting the girl a grimace from his place in front of the growing fire.

“Do we look like hunters to you?” Cleo shot back, twirling her knife around her fingers. “Plus, I thought we agreed the woods were off limits. Tigers, bears, and all that?”

“And there’s no reason to go right now.” You added, adjusting your legs where you were sitting in the sand to be more comfortable. “We have tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…”

“Normally, I’d agree.” Pope sighed, looking up at the sky where the clouds that did still remain, there but faint, loomed. “But I’m eighty-percent sure there’s a storm coming. All the birds and whatever else will eat all the plants and fruits and they’ll be less fish because of the falling tide. And who knows how long it’s going to last…”

“...Do you guys think we should start looking for ways to call for help?” Kie offered meekly. "It's been a week and I don't think anyone's looking for us..."

“And how would we do that?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, sitting up straighter. “This can’t be all there is to this island. There has to be something — a house, an abandoned shack — anything. But…we can’t stay here forever.”

“It’s only been a week, Kie.” JJ dismissed, tending to the fire. He didn’t seem to be fond of the topic of conversation, almost avoidant of it. “I’m sure someone will come soon enough for you.”

“...Why are you acting like that?” She asked, an expression of offense on her face.

“Like what?” He sighed, finally looking at the girl.

“Like you don’t want to leave.”

...A silence fell over the group, looks exchanged between one another as JJ stared tensely at the fire, jaw clenched. It was an unspoken topic among you all — whether you were going to be rescued at some point. Whether you wanted to be. Some people had been taking more kindly to the newfound freedom of island life — you, JJ, Cleo…

The others…it seemed like they couldn’t wait until someone came to swoop you all up. It was reasonable, you understood. But going to Kildare would be like getting thrown back to hell after getting a backstage pass to heaven.

“Why don’t we go see if the trees have started producin’ again? Hm?” Cleo broke the ice, standing up and looking at you, Kiara, and Sarah. “Pope’s right. If a storm’s comin’, best to stock up. A little wander in the dark neva hurt nobody. Come on.” She urged, outstretching a hand to you to help you up that you went to take.

“Hey, no,” JJ protested, eyes fleeting between you and Cleo. “Your leg-”

“I’m fine, J.” You dismissed, using Cleo’s assistance to stand up, mindful to keep your leg off the ground. “I can’t just sit around until someone shows up to save us.”

“I know, it’s just-” He struggled to find words. “Can’t you wait until you’ve healed?” He asked, eyes pleading.

“JJ,” You started, leaning on Cleo for support to keep yourself up. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen out here. We don’t have any first aid or medical supplies. The best thing I can do is let my body try and heal itself. And the best way to do that is to stop laying around like a starfish.” You explained the words Cleo had given you when she patched you up on the first day. “And I’ll have Cleo with me.” You smiled at the girl.

JJ’s blue eyes went between you and the dark-skinned girl, sighing in defeat. “Alright, fine. But take this with you.” He demanded, tossing his Swiss Army knife in your direction, you managing to catch it with one hand.

“We’ll be back.” You smiled, turning to walk away with your girls. “Fire up the grill for us, boys!” You shouted over your shoulder.

“THAT BOY REALLY CARES ABOUT YOU, Y’KNOW?” Cleo spoke, holding a branch out of your way to duck under, guiding you with a hand on your back. The four of you had split in half — Kie and Sarah taking one side of the forest while you and Cleo foraged the other.

“Yeah, I know.” You acknowledged, getting further into the trees. “I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I’m…broken, or something.” 

“Well, your leg is pretty banged up, girl-”

“No, I know.” You cut her off. “But…it’s not just that.” You sighed, stopping in front of a bush to pluck off the berries, handing them to Cleo for her to put into the basket she made of twine and sticks. “...Some stuff happened back at home and I think they’ve been trying to be subtle about it, but I can see the way everyone keeps me in the corner of their eyes. I can feel it. It’s like they’re tip toeing on eggshells but they’re still cracking underneath their shoes. And they have their reasons to be worried, I know that and I appreciate it. But I feel like they’re always helping me or saving me. I don’t wanna be the weak link.” You explained, brows furrowed as you threw the last of the berries into the basket, limping further into the mess of trees with Cleo following closely behind. “I hate feeling like I can’t help myself. And my leg isn’t exactly helping the problem…”

“Weakness is deception.” Cleo said, matter of factly. “I learned that from a close friend.” She told you, looking at you briefly. “It’s usually hidin’ a strength you haven’t discovered yet.” She said simply, stopping in front of the fruit tree as she handed the basket to you and began to climb.

“Well, how am I supposed to find this ‘strength’?” You asked, eyeing the girl as she climbed the bark effortlessly.

“You learn to overcome the weakness.” She said, snatching one of ripe fruits off the vine. “Everybody is weak. It’s just that some are stronger than others. When you’re stronger than everyone around you, of course you’re not going to look weak — brighter lights cast deeper shadows. But the truth is, everyone is a weak link in some way. Strength isn’t about never fallin’, it’s about gettin’ back up every time you do.”

“But what if I don’t know how to do that?” You asked, brows furrowed as you got lost in your thoughts, watching as Cleo dropped the fruit into the basket from the top of the tree. “What if all I know how to do when I fall…is keep falling?” 

“...Why would you do that?” She asked, voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

“...Because it’s easier than getting back up just to fall again.” 

“But you can’t fall forever.” Cleo asserted. “You’ll hit rock bottom eventually. And when you hit rock bottom, there’s nothin'. And you can’t live with nothin', so you have to make your way back to the top eventually. You can never let yourself fall that far.” She spoke, climbing down from the tree. “It’s easier to swim to the surface from five–feet down than it is from fifty.” You pondered on her words, finding a good amount of wisdom in them. The girl stopped in front of you, taking the basket off of your hands. “And you’re lucky.” She added after a moment's pause. “You have a good group of people to help you up. Don’t see their help as weakness. Them people out there are your family. I don’t have that.” 

“They could be that for you.” You told Cleo as the two of you began walking back the way you came, using the moonlight for guidance. "We could be that for you."

“Nah.” She shook her head, eyes looking at her feet. “They don’t trust me.”

“Not yet.” You emphasized. “We don’t trust people easily. You can probably imagine why…” You trailed off, Cleo nodding in response. “But they’re actually taking to you pretty well. Most of them, anyway.” You mentally rolled your eyes, remembering you and Kiara’s previous conversation. “Like Pope?” You continued, moving branches and leaves out of the way. “He’s usually the first to be skeptical. But he seems open to you.”

“Hm...” She hummed under her breath — her lack of response prompting you to look at the girl, the moonlight illuminating the faint redness of her cheeks. You couldn’t help but gasp.

“Oh my God, do you like Pope?” You nearly shouted to which Cleo vehemently shushed you, looking around herself.

“Shut up, loud mouth!” She whisper-shouted lightheartedly. “...And no, I don’t. Boys are stupid. And useless.” She said, although you didn’t believe her. 

“Uh-huh…” You said, squinting your eyes with a sly smile. “...Well, he’s on the market, just FYI.”

“Ughhh.” Cleo groaned, throwing her head back and walking far ahead. “Shut up!”

“I’m just saying!” You shouted behind her, attempting to catch up.

“That’s ya problem!” She called over her shoulder. “Less talkin’, more walkin’, slowpoke!”

“Hey! I can’t help it!” You argued, still trying your best to catch back up to the girl. “JJ will kill you if you abandon me out here!” You joked to which you were met with a playful scoff that reverberated through the trees.

“I’ll put ya lanky, blonde boyfriend on his behind before he can shout for help!” She quipped, a smile thrown over her shoulder. “Come on!”

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[rorysburrow]

Home Sweet Burrow

Pairing ➼ Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary ➼ Joe and you are on a mission to furnish your brand-new house, but what starts as a casual shopping trip turns into a full-blown adventure. Between Joe’s quirky opinions on throw pillows and your obsession with picking out the perfect coffee table, you both learn a lot about each other—and yourselves. The house may be new, but it's starting to feel like home.

Word Count ➼ 485

Warnings ➼ Just Fluff

A/N ➼ Hey guys this is my first post/one shot if you want to call it but I'm new and just getting started if you have any tips or suggestions please feel free to share. I also take requests.

The sun was setting over Cincinnati, casting a golden glow over the city as you and Joe strolled into the sleek, modern furniture store. Your new house—a beautiful, airy place with high ceilings and expansive windows—was nearly finished, but there was one problem: it was still completely empty. Except for a couch. Joe insisted on getting a big sectional sofa first, because, as he put it, “It’s gotta be comfortable for game days, right?”

“Alright,” You said, glancing at him as we walked through the sliding doors. “We’re on a mission. We need to make this place feel like a home, not a hotel lobby.”

Joe flashed a grin. “A hotel lobby would have a good minibar, though.”

“Focus, Joe,” you say laughing. “This is a house, not a suite.”

“I know, I know,” he teased, rubbing his chin. “But we should get a minibar. Just sayin’.”

Joe and you moved through the store, you found myself getting distracted by all the little details—vases, lamps, wall art. Meanwhile, Joe was making very serious decisions about the most random things. “What about this lamp?” he asked, holding up a funky, geometric piece that looked more like modern art than an actual light source.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That looks like something you’d find in a sci-fi movie.”

He chuckled. “Exactly. It’s perfect.”

After much back-and-forth on the lamp situation (which ultimately ended in you picking something a little more traditional), then you and Joe ventured to the kitchen section. Joe’s face lit up as you looked at the wine glasses.

“We need a good set of these,” he said. “For...you know...celebrating stuff.”

“You mean, for after you win the next Super Bowl?” you teased.

“Exactly,” Joe grinned, pulling out a set of crystal glasses. “We’ll toast to that moment when it happens.”

Joe paused for a second, imagining it: Joe hoisting the Vince Lombardi Trophy above his head, Cincinnati going wild. It was a beautiful thought.

The shopping trip was a mix of seriousness and silliness—Joe testing out every recliner in the store, making you laugh by acting like he was auditioning for a role in a commercial. And you obsessing over the smallest things, like picking out the perfect throw pillows for the couch. It wasn’t just about the house; it was about making memories, finding y'alls rhythm in this new chapter.

By the time you were ready to check out, the cart was filled with everything you both needed—and some things you probably didn’t. You give Joe a pointed look as he placed a neon green throw blanket on top of the pile.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked skeptically.

Joe shrugged, that confident, carefree smile of his lighting up his face. “Look, every home needs a little bit of chaos.”

You have to admit, he was right. A little chaos made everything feel real, and that’s exactly what you both were building together. A real home.

[lostinlovingrevery]

He's Definitely Obsessed With You (Series)

Origins! Logan X Fem!Reader

Plot: You're an army nurse, deep in the trenches of the Vietnam jungles, doing everything you can to keep yourself together, and the infantry that come into your tent. One day a soldier you aren't familiar with is brought in, and you find out something about him that leads to the start of an important relationship between you both that changes the course of your lives together...

A/N: This is basically the plot of Origins, but with my own spin on it with a Fem!Reader! This is my first time EVER writing an X reader, so comments appreciate! I plan to make this a series, but I wanted to put out a prologue first. Okay, it's not really a prologue and more like a chapter, and ended up being super long because I started writing and then didn't stop, and prologues are short- but IT'S MY STORY AND I'LL CREATE MY OWN RULES. The prologue is just how reader and Logan meet! (PS, there's eventual smut...Soon as I figure out how write it without getting embarrassed) Also, I'm still figuring out how to format on Tumblr, so please don't mind any funky design choices. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes somewhere in there

Warnings: Reader POV only (for now) Reader is female, also an army nurse, also a mutant- but powers aren't specified, blood mention, medical stuff talked about (like amputations), injury descriptions, Vietnam war and slight politics mention, probably a lot of historical inaccuracies i just googled things but I tried! implied reader could be religious but honestly there's nothing concrete to that. The only description of reader is her clothes and that she has hair, and wears makeup (lipstick). Reader has a hard on over Logan (she has a cruuuush), let me know if there's anything I missed!

Word Count: 4753

Series Masterlist

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Prologue:

Rain rapped lightly along the top of the large tent, creating a soothing sound throughout. A radio, playing an american music station, played a rock song, of some new band slowly making a name for itself, sat nearby on a metal cabinet. Stacks of manila folders and papers were disorganized and spread, almost completely covering a desk. A clock ticks rhythmically. The tent was lined with cots, tables, ratty mattresses, IV stands, and small tables covered with empty food trays, water canisters, and paper cups filled pills. Some of the beds were taken up by injured men, snoring and groaning as they attempted to sleep, only slightly more comfortable here in the medical tent than out in the muddy, rainy trenches. It was monsoon season in Vietnam, and you were at your wits end with paperwork in the middle of a small but-not-that-small camp, set up not far from an American fire support base.

You were sitting at the desk, half asleep as you attempted to fill out another request form for medical supplies. Halothane, Methoxyflurane, Morphine, Penicillin - are common medicines that you find yourself constantly having to restock. Of course bandages, gloves, needles, saline, tubing, multiple surgical supplies, other things you find yourself low on often too, considering the amount of amputations, large and minor, that happen around here. The medical tent that you currently reside in was a revolving door of soldiers, both American and Vietnamese, as well as nearby villagers who come for aid after the American presence near their homes led to viruses they can’t combat on their own, or other unfortunate injuries if war breaks out in their village. 

You were simply an army nurse, this was not your usual duty to perform, it was normally left to the assigned doctor of the camp. Your job was to assist the doctor, take care of the patients, administer medicine, IVs, change bandages, wet baths, feed them, and hold their hands as they cry for their momma and to God. You were busy enough, and the doctor, Doctor Frank Jones, who you were assisting had got shot by a stray bullet when out in the jungle, and had to be taken back to the main base, and back to the States. Due to a communication failure, his replacement ended up somewhere else, and transportation wasn’t an option due to the fighting happening.

 Fortunately, Doctor Jones had seen potential in you and believed you would be an excellent doctor one day - something you wanted to pursue after your service was fulfilled. He became a mentor, helping you study and learn medicine, and giving you skills that an average nurse- even an army nurse- wouldn’t usually have. Now, it was just up to you, and a few young army medics - teenage boys who were given no choice in going to war, and their skills were found best in assisting injuries on the battlefield, but they were eager to help, and their light-hearted jokes and company helped relieve some stress for you, especially with the pain you watch day in and out. You didn’t always have the luxury of their help though, as when patrols went out, they required at least one of them to join. It leads you to have to order around other grunts who have no idea how to even measure the proper dosage of cough syrup for themselves whenever a serious injury comes in, having to give detailed orders on what to do- usually just getting you the supplies and medicine you need, as the grunts are typically too distracted and upset over their fallen brother to assist you in anything medical and complicated. 

With being the only medical authority in the camp- as well as the only woman- you were well respected and popular. Your compassionate personality, and comforting presence, as well as your “Take-no-shit” attitude, led to soldiers of this camp visiting you all the time, usually making up excuses like having a cough, or a splinter in their finger, just so they could have the pleasure of your smile and encouraging words. The CO here made sure that they all treated you with respect, as a woman- and a nurse, so you never once felt unsafe- or unappreciated. Besides, a good section of this camp is young boys, too nervous about their situation to worry about trying to flirt with a woman like you. You're more of a comfort figure in these parts than anything else. Despite the stress and worry you face in day to day life, in the middle of the war, you were just happy to be doing something. You weren’t exactly a supporter of this war, but the moment you saw young boys lining up to go to war, something in you made you fiercely determined to follow, and do whatever you can to make sure those boys can go back home to their mothers and fathers.

The Rolling Stones was now playing on the radio, this was a band you were more familiar with - one of your favorites. Your foot tapped to the beat of the song, as you checked off another item you needed to be stocked up on- and hoped the supply chain doesn’t hold out on you again. For some reason, they seemed convinced that you must surely be lying about the supplies and will not send you the full amount of what you requested, leading you to storm into the CO’s tent on more than one occasion and rant to him with a few unsavory words about the supply lines commander.  He always listens though, and does his best to get you what you can- which you can appreciate. 

“Hey turn that up-” You heard one of the patients call out, and she smiles, reaching to the radio and turning the volume higher. She looked up from the desk to see one patient in bed moving his foot with the beat of the song, and the other, who asked her to turn it up, raised his arm in the air, hand in a fist as he rocked with the song. “This is a good one, hadn’t heard this one yet.”

“It came out in 65’ dumbass.” the other called out. “How’d you not know it?”

“I’ve been here since 64’ asshole! Think we always had access to a radio?”

They all chided each other, making you laugh as you shake your head, turning back towards your paperwork, determined to finish it today so you can send it out. It was rare you get these moments of quiet, so you appreciated it when you could. Things could turn on a dime in a second, especially since the fighting was getting closer to where this camp was set, and you’re hoping that you would get some help before anything serious came. You were just starting to get absorbed in the letter you were writing to the CO of the supply line, something slightly passive aggressive, when one of the soldiers yelled to you from outside. 

“Hey! Nurse! There’s some guys coming this way! They got someone injured-” 

You looked up, dropping your pencil, and turning the radio down as you readied yourself, brushing the pants of your army fatigues to straighten it out, and rolling your sleeves farther up your arms. You watched as the flaps of the tent get pulled open, as two men carry someone resting on a cot. You didn’t like how quiet the man was being.

“In here-” You lead them to another section of the medical tent, ment solely for treating wounded, in an attempt to keep something sterile and clean- well, as clean as you can get it. The soldiers set the man onto the table that sat in the center of the room, small trays and medical supplies, as well as a large overhead lamp that provided lighting to give you a better view at what you’re working on, surrounded the table. 

“We got ambushed on patrol, fortunately he’s the only one that got hit, a VC jumped out of the grass and stabbed him. We got pressure on the wound, and he’s still alive- for now.” 

You nodded as you went to a basin to pull on some sterile gloves, and walked over to examine the soldier. He was handsome- you couldn’t help but noticed but quickly put that out of your mind. A full head of deep beautiful brown hair, and a thick beard framed his face. He looked older, possibly in his mid 30’s. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as his teeth were gritted and eyes cinched shut in pain. A wave of sorrow hit you, as you never liked seeing people in pain, it hits you bad enough to wonder why you chose to go into the medical profession of all things. Nevertheless, you push through, and began working on removing the uniform so you can see if you can save this one. At least he wasn’t screaming.

“Whats his name?”

“Logan ma’am. He’s Private First Class.”  The private responds, voice professional, but quickly drops into something softer. “He’s a good guy, and smart, usually quick on his feet, its surprising someone ambushed him…” 

“Need any help ma’am?” The other private who brought him in ask.

“No, I got it, thank you.” You tell them as you grab some sheers and began cutting through Logan's army garments. “Just make sure others are alright. See if any of the boys out there need water.”

They nodded, saluting- leading you to roll your eyes- and left your section of the tent, just as you manage to cut off the white wife beater he was sporting underneath his army garments, giving you a complete view of where he had been stabbed. You breathed a small sigh of relief, the wound appeared in the part of the torso where nothing vital was located and you managed to roll him to his side- seeing the stabbing didn’t go straight through, meaning this guy had a good chance of surviving, assuming he doesn’t succumb to infection…

“Alright Logan,” You turned you head to look at the man, who was still tense, eyes squeezed shut. He was somewhat awake, with his breathing and the way his muscles contracted, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on, you still felt it important to talk to whoever you were treating though. You had to hold the hands of many scared soldiers, and quickly have learned the right things to say when comforting. “I’m going to take care of you, and in return, you’re going to need to be strong for me here.” You say softly but firmly to him, hoping that he’s hearing you through the pain, as you went and quickly grabbed a wet cloth out of a basin nearby, squeezing out the excess water, and gently placing it over his forehead, in order to soak up some sweat, and provide some more comfort to cool his skin that seemed to be burning hot. You couldn’t help but note that you don’t recognize him- you wouldn’t have forgotten his face that’s for damn sure, if he’d ever came to visit you, which most privates in this camp has at one time or another. You shook the curiosity out of your head, you had to move quickly, fighting the urge to wanting to take in the details of his face- his very handsome face, and moved to focus back onto the wound on his torso. 

You started by slowly removing the packed bandages, examining the blood flow to make sure nothing gushed, but he really wasn’t bleeding much anymore- actually, it didn’t look like he was bleeding at all now. Confused, you began cleaning the area of the stab wound so you could get a clear view of what you were looking at. At first, you thought you were losing your mind, you had to been because what you were seeing…

It was as if the skin was growing back, the wound, going inwards seemed to almost pop out, before the skin stitched together, going through what the bodys usual healing process would look like- except doing it within a matter of seconds. Turning from a bright red inflamed wound, into a baby pink scar bump that slowly faded off, you couldn’t even tell anything had happen there- except from the blood stained around it. You were blinking in disbelief, mouth slightly agape, before it suddenly occurred to you what you were just seeing.

Oh

Oh shit-

He’s a mutant.

You looked at the man, who’s muscles seemed to be relaxing now, as he took deeper breaths, the sweat on his face began to dry and disappear. You weren’t sure what to do at this point, you’re so used to every minute counting to fix someone, and this guy just healed himself in seconds!

And by god, he was so handsome. You thought that already, got to stop thinking about that. Turning away from his face, you went to examine where the stab wound used to be, gloved fingers gently pressing on the area- before the soldier- Logan, practically yelped- and sat up rushed on the table, startling you even more so than him, as you jumped back, hands in the air in surrender- as if you did anything wrong.

He was panting, the cold wet cloth you had placed on his forehead fell into his lap, as he looked around with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring, he almost looked animal-like in this state. He turned to look at you. His eyes took you in, and suddenly you felt embarrassed by your army clothes you were sporting, green cargo pants, and a green collared button up shirt, tucked into your pants, making you feel less than girlish in them, despite their comfortability, your forehead was covered in sweat, and your hair pulled back in a bun neat bun with baby hairs sticking out everywhere. At least you had lipstick on to give yourself a little bit of a pop in your plain looking outfit. That should be the last thing you should be worried about. 

“You’re okay-” You finally found your voice, holding your hands out to him, “You got ambushed, but you’re okay now.” 

He blinked, then let out a small sigh, his whole self seeming to relax, his expression turned more human-like, as he faced forward, then looked down at himself. His hand went over where he had been hurt- seeing that there was no longer any injury there, although something in his expression told you he could still feel it. He swallowed, jaw tensing, before realization struck him, and his head snapped to look at you. 

“You saw- You know, don’t you?” He asks, his voice was deep, but sounded a little dry and scratchy. Still, it was enough to make your knees weak. 

You turned, going to a cabinet that held medicines and various other supplies, but on the counter was a pitcher of water and a few glass cups. Pulling off your gloves, you poured a cup from the pitcher, turning back and handing it to him. 

“Yeah. I saw.” You say cooly, holding it out for him to take. He looked at you, his deep and should you think gorgeous hazel eyes felt like they were piercing your soul; as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head, which you wish you knew as well because his stare was making your brain fuzzy; then glanced at the cup and finally took it from your hand, your fingers brushing together, making your heartbeat just a little faster, and you could feel a small heat blooming in your cheeks.

Jesus christ, pull yourself together 

You thought to yourself. You cleared your throat while he took several swigs of water, dropping his hand with the cup to his side as he took a moment to breathe once more. 

“Got anything stronger?” He asks, his low and smoother now, quirking a brow at you. You smiled, 

“Sorry, anything alcoholic you may want to drink in here, I gotta save for the guys who can’t heal themselves within minutes.” You say teasingly. “Supplies are low enough already.” 

You could see a small quirk of his lips, in something resembling a smile. He was still tense though, his eyes seemed to be somewhere else. He looked at you again,

“Does it…scare you? Me being a mutant?” He asks, his voice low

“Um….No?” You responded, confusion on your face, a small shake of your head, “Why would it?” 

He seemed relieved- and surprised by that answer, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he took another drink of water, eyes closing as he finished the cup, and handed it back to you, where you set it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he sat up more confidently, bending his leg as he brought his knee up to his chest, and propped his forearm over it, and leaned back on his other hand, taking a few deep breaths as he lowered his head down, then looked back up at you, his expression suddenly stern.

“You gonna tell them?” He asks. You knew he was referring to the army. Mutants weren’t well accepted in the world- much less the US army. The American government is actually sitting comfortably in the capital and writing out bullshit laws on mutant regulations, rather than trying to figure out a solution for the war here in Vietnam. You, a mutant yourself, albeit your powers were easy to hide and conceal, you still feared of a day that someone somehow discovers your secret. You’ve heard stories of American soldiers revealed to be mutants being killed, due to some bullshit excuse that they “lied” about who they were, and couldn’t be trusted. Whether those stories were true or fearmongering to keep mutants hiding their true identities, you didn’t know, but you certainly weren’t gonna find out yourself. You definitely wouldn’t put another fellow mutant, just trying to survive like you, in any sort of danger like that, even if he could probably just heal if he got put in front of a firing squad.

You pursed your lips together. Then smiled. “No. I’ll keep your secret.” You say. “All it means to me is that I have one less person to worry about around here. I was actually wondering why I hadn’t seen your face in this tent yet before, and now I know why.” 

He softened at that, but his face quickly fell back into something more serious and stern once more, which you’re starting to think might be his baseline. 

“You okay?” You asked, your voice was soft, and sweet, and borderline angelic for a man like him, who’s been in wars almost his entire life- which you don’t know about that. “That probably didn’t feel good, what happened.” He nodded. 

“M’ fine….Thank you.” He grumbles lowly, looking down at his hands. “I heard about you- actually I-I seen you around. You’re the only nurse on camp?” He asked, looking back up at you, there seemed to be a bit of curiosity in his voice. 

“Yeah. I’m pretty popular.” You say, in a teasing voice, blushing at the thought that he’s noticed you. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, you are quite literally the only woman around, save for the women in the village not far from here.  

“Must be busy.”

“Oh… Nah-” You playfully wave him off. “Some days are so slow, I’m actually bored.” You say matter-of-factly, but you both knew you were kidding. Another quirk of his lips. You smiled softly at him, but there was a voice in your head telling you, that since he doesn’t need your help, you should probably get back to helping the ones who do. Not that you want to leave, he was so damn handsome, you could stare at him all day. It wasn’t just his good looks though, his whole self drew you in with just a few words, and you find yourself wanting to get to know Logan, because the look in his eyes told you that he was someone worth knowing. Or maybe that was just your hormones talking. There was just this energy between you both, some type of unseen connection. His eyes trailed down you again, this time fully taking you in, stopping at your chest, and for a moment you were about to be completely turned off by this man being a pervert, but he nodded towards it. 

“Your necklace?” He asked. You looked down, oh, you thought to yourself. You pulled the string of your necklace, lifting the small coin that it held, string carefully wrapped around it so it doesn’t fall off.

“It’s a prayer coin. A priest gave it to me.” You explained. “It’s the archangel Raphael. A protector, patron saint of medical workers, like doctors, nurses.”

“Like you?” 

You nodded. He examined it, before you tucked it back under your shirt. You usually keep it hidden, but it must have fallen out while you were rushing. Now it was silent again, and you both weren’t sure what to do or say. 

“Well….” You took a breath, you glanced down at his abdomen, and suddenly your brows creased in concentration. 

“What?” He asked, by your sudden change in demeanor. 

“You can’t exactly walk out with no injury. Those two privates were pretty worried about you.” You say, putting your hands on your hips and pursing your lips together. You clicked your tongue.

“I can figure something out-”

“No no-” You held your hand up and looking around the room. “Those privates brought you in, there’s probably an incident report written right now, not to mention I have to write a report on your injuries too-” you explained. “I mean, how are you gonna explain it if you walk out, completely A-okay?”

Logan shrugged simply. “I can think of something, it isn’t the first time this happened.” You rolled your eyes. Men. 

You rather not waste bandages on a pretend injury, but you need someway to get his injury to look believeable, thats when you spotted your answer. His white tank top that you had drop to the floor, it was good enough to wrap around him, making him look as if he’s been all fixed up from his stab wound. The shirts cotton texture looked similar to the pattern of a bandage, and was good enough, especially considering no one would be looking hard enough at his wound anyway.

After a few minutes of “fixing him up” with your solution to keep his regenerative abilities a secret, you stood back examining the fake bandage/shirt that you tore up and wrapped around his torso, using bandage pins to hold it in place. Then shrugged. 

“It’s good enough.” You say. “You’re not going anywhere anyway, so it’s not like you’ll raise a bunch of questions. It looks like you have an injury, it’ll match the incident and medical report. You won’t get found out.”

“I’m not going anywhere?” He raised a brow. 

“Nope. You were injured, which means I gotta keep an eye on you. So you’ll be sleeping here, and you’ll have to pretend you’re in pain, whining and moaning and all that. Give it your best performance.” You encourage. “Take it, not many around here get a chance to get a break like that.” 

He looked at you, pondering what you were offering him- well, you weren’t offering, he was going to have do it because you weren’t gonna risk him revealing himself as a mutant, which for some reason you were now more concerned about than he was. A small smirk appeared on his face, “That mean you’ll be waiting on me then, hand and foot?”

You smiled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself soldier.” You say teasingly. “You can stay in here a little longer, rest up, maybe shed some tears to make it look like you’re suffering tremendously.” You added a little flair as you brought your hand up to your forehead, pretending to faint, before turning and walking away to leave the room, now knowing you really needed to get back to work.

“I don’t think I need to shed any tears.” He mutters, but there was amusement in his tone though. “Hey bub” He called after you as you were about to leave the room, lifting the tent flap, but you stopped to look at him. “Why are you seen keen on helping me out? Making a plan to make sure people don’t find out what I am…Seems like too much trouble to go through for you.” He frowned. 

“Well…” You dropped the flap of the tent, “Us mutants gotta stick together, right?” Logan looked surprised at first, eyes widening a bit, and jaw slacking, but then a soft, genuine smile stretched across his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaving you thinking that was a smile you never wanted to go without again. Smiling back at him, you winked, and turned back before stopping and looking at him again, “Plus, you seem worth the trouble.” You add, before finally leaving him to himself.

Maybe it was too much trouble. You could leave Logan to figure it out himself. You two didn’t know each other, you weren’t friends. Yet you, the compassionate self you are, and also slightly bull-headed, was not going to leave Logan hanging alone. Maybe it was the fact that you were both mutants that urged you to help him, let him know that someone like him out there has his back, even if he had many brothers at his side watching his back too. Or maybe it was because you felt an undeniable pull towards him- and him towards you. 

While he stayed in the medical tent with you for about a week, the standard time for stitches to stay in. While staying, you both got to know each other better. You found a deep friendship with Logan quickly, both of you having an understanding of each other, not just as mutants but as individuals as well. You were able to laugh, usually at his snarky remarks to the other privates and even his comments to the higher-ups, surprising you in how he likes to occasionally challenge authority despite how quiet and reflective he can be some moments. You saw him as brave, smart, and he was protective, always going first in patrols, and keeping an eye on the younger privates. He’d hid it well, rarely making it seen, but he had a compassion that made your heart swell, especially when you came across him comforting a young private who was homesick and scared. He had a good instinct that seems to attest to his mutation- which he later revealed the full aspects of it to you later on, claws and everything- which did nothing but fascinate you, leading to a full acceptance of him he hadn’t felt or seen in a long time. He’d visit you in late nights when he wasn’t assigned guard patrol, bringing you something to eat or drink, and you’d both quietly talk about your lives, and how’d you ended up there. He listened to you complain about the lack of supplies, and how you got into medicine in the first place. You’d learn of his brother Victor- another Private First Class there at the camp, who you quickly learned a distaste for after meeting him, and how old they both really were- leading you to bombard him with history questions, that he simply answered “I wasn’t there bub.” There was an unspoken yet mutual physical and spiritual attraction between you both, but before anything could have gone further in your relationship, down in the thick muddy jungles of Vietnam, you suffered a similar fate as your mentor Doctor Jones. A stray bullet having shot through your shoulder while you were out, attempting to help a young private who’s leg unfortunately got caught in a dirt trap. You were okay, but orders sent you home on a medical discharge, saying you fulfilled your duty to the States. 

You missed Logan, and you also found yourself struggling to find your place back in civilian life again, the stress and the trauma of the things you saw weighed heavy in your mind, not to mention the worry you felt over Logan's safety while he was still over there. The only thing easing your worries was the letters you wrote to each other, until one day his letters stopped coming, and your own got returned back to you with no explanation, leaving you in fear of the worst….

[m1ckeyb3rry]

i’m so excited for your request event eek!! :DDD if you ever get the time, maybe micheal kaiser, but like post marriage? :O

── AIRPORT VISIT

Synopsis: You pick up your husband from the airport, finally reuniting with him after his long trip abroad.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: married couple, lots of banter, talks about insurance??, kaiser hates blue lock but he has to secure the bag i fear 😔, probably ooc because this is an established relationship so he’s kind of sweet…consider it off screen development LMAO

A/N: hello my dear i’m so sorry this took me a sec to respond to!! kaiser is such a funky guy hehe i tried my best writing him in this type of scenario…i hope you like it 💖

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own. now closed!

The airport was colder than you had expected, and you wrapped the sweater you had stolen from Michael’s closet tighter around your shoulders, hiding the lower half of your face in it as you stared at the customs area. Your eyelids were heavy and threatened to droop shut entirely, but you had promised that you would come pick him up, and you didn’t want his first sight of you after almost a month to be you dozing off on your feet.

Shuffling over to a bench and suppressing a yawn when you realized it might still be a bit of time before he came out, you tucked your legs up next to you and leaned your head against the cool white wall beside you. Given the late hour, the airport was all but deserted, or at least as close to deserted as a place so constantly active could be. The steady drone of the air conditioning — which you wished they would turn down! — was mind-numbing, and despite yourself, you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad if you just closed your eyes for a moment. You wouldn’t sleep, you would only rest them so that you appeared cheery and bright when Michael finally arrived…

The next thing you knew, there was a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently awake. You shot to your feet, panic shooting through you at the thought that you were being attacked or something, but when you realized your ‘assailant’ was none other than your dear husband, who you had spent hours waiting for, you relaxed.

“You should’ve just stayed home,” he said, clicking his tongue at you, reaching out to ruffle your hair. His bags sat by his feet, and yawning, you picked one up. “Hey, is that my sweater?”

“Mhm,” you said as you traipsed towards where you had parked your car. “I like this one. I can’t believe I haven’t taken it before.”

He made a face at you. “Stop stealing my clothes.”

“There’s nothing stopping you from taking my things, if you’re bristling at the unfairness,” you said, unlocking the car and opening the trunk, helping him heft his things into the back to hasten the process.

“No thanks. Your clothes are ugly; that’s why you always have to take mine, right?” he said, pressing the button so that the trunk would shut. You yawned again, blinking your eyes open and shut a few times to clear your vision, shaking your head as you did so.

“You’re the one who buys half of them, so what does that say about your taste?” you said. “Yours are just more comfortable.”

“I can start buying you men’s clothes instead, since you insist on wearing them all of the time,” he said, snatching the keys from out of your pocket and sliding into the driver’s side before you could protest.

“Well, but it’s not the same,” you said. “Also, what are you doing? The whole point of me coming to pick you up was so that you didn’t have to drive and all. Aren’t you tired?”

“I just slept for an entire plane ride,” he said. “I’m as energetic as Ness when he gets his hands on espresso. You, on the other hand, will probably crash this car if you’re allowed to drive it, and then we’d have to deal with insurance, so I’d really prefer it if you just get in the passenger seat and leave this to me, because our agent is a bitch.”

“She’s not that bad,” you said. 

“Every day that I don’t have to call her is a good day,” he said. “Now, are you coming, or should I just leave you here?”

You scoffed even as you ducked into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt. “You should’ve left me behind. I could’ve caught a ride with Ness. I’m sure he’d be less mean about it.”

“Ha, ha,” Michael said. “That was so funny. Did you recently update my will to make yourself my sole benefactor? Because if so, you’re in luck. I just died. Died of laughter. I’m dead now, which means you’re a rich woman, Mrs. Kaiser.”

“Shut up, you overdramatic oaf,” you said.

“You’re so rude to the man who just made you wealthy,” he said, taking your hand and holding it to his lips as he pulled out of the airport parking lot. “I’m worth more than Ness. Don’t even joke about going with him again. He won’t give you anything when he dies. You’ll be left broke and unhappy.”

“Right, because your net worth is why I agreed to marry you,” you said. “No other reason.”

“That combined with my good looks and my amazing talent, I’m sure,” he said.

“Your humility was only a bonus,” you said. He dropped your hand and shot you a mock glare.

“Just remember who’s in control of this car! What if I crash it? Then you’ll regret everything!” he said.

“You’ll regret it more,” you said. “I’ll make you call the insurance agent.”

“What if I’m on my deathbed?” he said. “What if I’m bleeding out at the scene of the crash? What would you do then, huh?”

“I’d use your phone to call an ambulance, and I’d use mine to call the agent so that you could talk to her while we waited for help to come,” you said.

“Wow,” he muttered. “Cold. We haven’t seen each other in a month and this is how you’re treating me.”

“I did miss you,” you said, resting your temple against the cool glass of the window. “I wish you didn’t have to go all of the way to Japan every year to help out with that program.”

He sighed. “Believe me, if they paid even a dollar less, I wouldn’t. I hate those stupid Blue Lock bastards, and every time I have to interact with them, I lose ten years off of my lifespan. ”

“Oh, no,” you said. “Remind me when you’re about to run out completely. I’ll update your will, just in case.”

“Hilarious,” he deadpanned.

“Really, though, is there anyone you don’t complain about talking to?” you said. “At this rate, you’re not going to have very many years left at all. Will you leave me a widow so soon?”

He gave you a charming grin. “I like talking to you. That’s why I married you.

“Did those Blue Lock boys teach you about this kind of thing alongside soccer?” you said. “I don’t remember you being quite so smooth when you left. Was it Yoichi Isagi? You mentioned him a lot in your texts.”

“Y/N,” Michael said gravely. “I would strip naked, swim in a vat of acid, and then sleep with Don Lorenzo on a bed of nails before I would ever take advice from Isagi.”

“Poor Lorenzo,” you said, laughing at the mental image of what he was describing. “Why’d you throw him under the bus like that?”

“We took the same plane back from Japan,” he explained. “He had a layover here, so you could say he’s just a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Jeez,” you said. “Alright, I get it. You just thought about me so frequently and fondly that you came up with these lines all on your own.”

“Exactly,” he said smugly. “I don’t need stupid Isagi to tell me how to impress you. Only I know how to do that, anyways, so why would I ask someone else for help?”

“Sorry for the suggestion,” you said as he pulled into the garage of our home. “And thank you for driving. If only your flight had been a little bit earlier! I really would have driven you back.”

“Next time,” he said, patting your head as he helped you out of the car. “Or I can call a taxi and you can just stay home from now on, so that neither of us are inconvenienced.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” you said with a pout, helping him bring his things inside. He smiled slightly, kissing your forehead with the utmost of delicacy.

“Just you being here is nice enough for me,” he said. “Don’t put yourself through so much trouble, okay? The knowledge that you’re waiting at home for me makes me happier than anything else ever could.”

“Okay,” you said reluctantly. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he said. “Let’s get you to bed now, alright?”

“You, too,” you said.

“I will, but on one condition,” he said.

“What?” you said.

“You take my sweater off,” he said. “It’s mine, seriously!”

“Looks like you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight, then,” you said.

“Y/N,” he whined, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You have me now. Aren’t I much warmer and better than a sweater?”

“Hm,” you said. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he said. “Fine. I guess I’ll just see myself back to Japan, then.”

“Don’t do that,” you said. “It’s too cold without you here, and lonely, too. I’ll even take the sweater off if you’ll stay.”

“You’re so unfair,” he said. “How am I supposed to say no to you? You can keep the stupid sweater.”

“And you?” you said. He pinched your cheek affectionately.

“I suppose you can keep me, too.”

[somniseeker]

“ding!” [ undertale x reader ]

series masterlist : [here] | chapter one

summary: you can’t sleep, and at 3:49 AM, a notification pulls you into a mysterious group chat called UnderChat. the members—quirky and chaotic sans au’s like ink, fresh, and error—welcome you as their newest recruit, insisting you’re from an alternate universe. confused but curious, you hesitate to believe them, wondering if you’ve stumbled into the strangest roleplay or something more.

3:49 AM

That was the time, obviously. You were not catching a wink of sleep tonight, even though those eyes of yours were pratically burning at this point. Blinking at the bright light which popped up when you clicked a notifaction. "DING!" echoed the phone on full volume: You were just about to scroll through tumblr aud—

Oh.

Oh. . 

You've been added to a groupchat.

Immediately sitting up you rubbed your eyes, curiousity gleaming in them.

UnderChat 

You don't remember downloading that app. . Perhaps you accidentally clicked on one of those explicit advertisements on accident while reading on pirated websites, that seems like a plausible explanation. Still doesn't explain why you're recieving notifactions saying your in a groupchat. A groan escaped your lips as you clicked the notifaction, although accepting the fact this was some sort of call-out cancel groupchat, an accidental add, or it's fake and it's a virus. Probably the latter.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[ SLEEPRLUVR has joined the group ]

FunkN'Fresh: wellllp ill be diddly darn darned we gots a new funky fresh membah?

GlitchBitch: Stop typing like that.

FunkN'Fresh: noo can do funny magic maannnnnnnnn

[ GLITCHBITCH has muted the groupchat ]

FunkN'Fresh: you maaaaaaad.

Ink: Oh! New member yay, Okay so I can explain this as your probably confused sans!

Ink: Eheh, "how do you know my name" you might ask! wellllp, yknooow the multiverse and all that stuffs? We made a groupchat!

SLEEPRLUVR: what? 

Ink: Okay so a basic run down of how the app works, the three icon's at the side shows you every AU that has joined so far and what their username is - You need to create a profile with yours!

SLEEPRLUVR: what

Ink: Oh— You must still be confused, I'll just do it for you! What AU are you from?

SLEEPRLUVR: what.

Ink: ...

Fell2cool4school: prolly from "what"!tale lmfao

SLEEPRLUVR: no, just wasn't expecting roleplayers in my schedule today. i can do this - what aus are open?

.

.

.

The chat suddenly went dead silent, leaving you staring groggily at your phone, squinting at the screen. You couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Does it really take this long to grab a character masterdoc? It's been a while since you last roleplayed, but this felt off. When the next message finally popped up, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Ink: Oh, uh... this isn't exactly roleplay, but I get why you'd think that! Anyway, we’ve got a lot of AUs here, so take your pick! Let’s see… there’s Underswap, Underfell, Dancetale, and even some wacky ones like Dusttale and Underlust, but let’s not go there unless you’re into, well, *that* kind of stuff. 

SLEEPRLUVR: ...i’m just going to ignore that last part.

Fell2cool4school: aww c’mon, why skip out on the fun? 😈

SLEEPRLUVR: This is ridiculous. Okay, so let's say I believe this whole “multiverse” thing. Why am I here?

Ink: Well, every AU needs a representative! Think of it like... a council! Each universe gets one member to join the chat, share ideas, keep peace, y’know? And... well, you’re the lucky one picked from your AU!

SLEEPRLUVR: but i don’t even know what AU i’m from. how am i supposed to “represent” it?

FunkN’Fresh: uhhh doesn’t seem too funkay to me, guess they jus got dropped here like a beeboppin’ newbie!

GlitchBitch: Figures. Another clueless one. Just what we needed.

Ink: Don’t mind them! We’ll figure out your AU together! It’s kinda exciting, right?

SLEEPRLUVR: mmm, more like nerve-wracking. can i leave?

Ink: Nope! Once you’re in, you’re in. But don’t worry, we’re all friends here! ...Sort of.

Fell2cool4school: speak for yourself, inkhead. i ain't here to make friends. only enemies. and sometimes frenemies. but mostly enemies.

SLEEPRLUVR: yyyeah, i’m definitely going to regret this. okay, so if I’m stuck here… how do I create this profile thing?

Ink: Just tell me a bit about yourself, and I’ll set it up for you! Favorite color? Likes? Dislikes? Any cool abilities? C’mon, spill!

SLEEPRLUVR: umm… favorite color? any, I guess. Likes? Sleeping. Dislikes? Waking up. Abilities? being normal???

GlitchBitch: Abilities: None. Fitting.

Ink: rainbow, sleeping, normal. Got it! I’ll just make your profile super quick…

FunkN’Fresh: "likez sleeping" heh. typical standard sans bruh.

[INK is typing…]

Ink: Done! Welcome to the UnderChat, SLEEPRLUVR!

SLEEPRLUVR: …i’m going to need a lot of coffee for this, aren’t I?

FunkN’Fresh: forget coffee, maaaaan. get some soda in yer veins, get the funky fresh groove goin’!

GlitchBitch: Or you could just log off and get back to your irrelevant existence. Just saying.

SLEEPRLUVR: …i’m starting to think leaving this group would be the sanest option.

Fell2cool4school: too late for that, buddy. you're one of us now. welcome to the madness.

     You sat on your bed, legs crossed beneath you, staring at the screen with a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity. That was... ermmm, certainly an experience. These people seemed like some serious kinnies or something. You hadn't seen roleplayers this deep in character since the wild days of Danganronpa Kokichi Tumblr drama. You gnawed at the inside of your cheek, debating your next move. You had things to do in the morning, so maybe it would be smart to just get some sleep. But then again—shouldn’t you figure out which AU to be? They didn’t even give you a proper list of what was available!

     You could at least deduce a few things. Obviously, GlitchBitch was the Error Sans of the group, with his snarky, broken-text vibes. Ink was, well, Ink, and FunkN’Fresh was soo stereotypically hippie, it was a dead giveaway who he was supposed to be. But who else was in this group—this "UnderChat" as Ink called it? And how were you supposed to see these profiles they mentioned? The whole thing was making your head spin, trying to figure it out.

     Still, as you finally set your phone down and pulled your covers over you, you couldn't help but feel a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Yeah, it was weird—being added to some mysterious group chat by what seemed like over-enthusiastic roleplayers—but there was something almost... nostalgic about it. It had been a while since you just sat back and played pretend, no matter how weird the scenario... or old the fandom was.

     Maybe tomorrow you’d hit up the Undertale Wiki and find a cool AU to rp as. After all, if you were going to be stuck here, you might as well have some fun with it.

* A/N: uhm, this was written for ao3 and crossposted on quotev and now we're here. it looks best, imo, on quotev because it comes with extra media!! but im here because ppl can send asks n stuff for extra content of the skellies. please reblog or comment , it helps my motivation

[infamous-if]

hi amy i really really hope this doesnt sound rude but why are you rewriting the old chapters when you could be focusing on new ones instead? and maybe once the if is finished you can rewrite it? because at this rate you’ll be rewriting the if every year… im genuinely curious sorry if it sounds rude tho obviously im excited for the rewrite and i love love infamous so much !! take care of yourself above all else

hi! and don't worry, I understand!

I said a few times I had to rewrite the first 2 chapters because the variables and stats start getting hefty and begin having more importance starting chapter 3 and beyond. I wrote the demo when I didn't know much about coding and my code is really funky and out of wack and just really messy + the stats aren't as balanced as I wanted them to be. Basically, if I waited, I'd end up having to rewrite it halfway because I've dug myself in a hole. I'd much rather get these two chapters out of the way before I get deeper into the story. Plus, narratively, there are a few essential things I want to fix.

Really, it's just because the first two chapters are really messy code wise. I have no plans to rewrite every few chapters or so! Next time, I'd definitely wait until it's really really necessary or near the end :)

Thank you!! <3

[vorfreudevortex]

2. SHDW1

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 1 // next: chapter 3

warnings // 6k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, fighting and arguing, mentions of weapons, club scene, dancing/grinding bc it’s canon to me that ino is a fantastic dancer

✰ // the cars and the reader’s appearance in this fic are purposely kept ambiguous so you are free to have aspects look, feel, and be modified any way you’d like.

the vibes for chapter two

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

your body buzzes.

there was quite a crowd at the top of mount hakone. cars line the shoulder of the straight, all modified to hell and back. other teams, car fanatics, and random onlookers stood by; bumping music, smoking and drinking, and getting loose before the race started. it was mostly men, but gorgeous girls in their shortest skirts were mixed in, just wanting to have fun with expensive cars and free drinks on the weekend. you watched from afar as their music and chatter floated up into the stars.

“where the hell is this guy?” satoru whines. suguru's idling nsx is parked in the right lane of the road, just before the starting line. the five of you stand beside the warm motor, letting suguru and shoko's cigarette smoke waft through your hair. the guy who wanted to race your brother still hadn’t shown his face.

you and shoko had gotten ready for the race together, showing off your latest streetwear was always the thing to do at these events. you couldn’t help but don your tightest black corset, a leather skirt and knee-high platform boots. shoko had let you borrow a funky-patterned oversized jacket to wear when the dark mountain air got too cold, while she chose bright red jeans and a blue top.

the boys looked just as handsome. satoru wore loose jeans and a graphic tee, kento with tapered trousers, a linen button up and crisp sneakers, and suguru with an all black ensemble of cargo pants and a hoodie.

“he must’ve pussied out,” suguru says, crushing his finished cigarette into the crunchy gray asphalt.

“we’ll have to find a replacement if he doesn’t show,” kento grunts.

“it’s been 15 minutes, i don’t think he’s coming,” shoko rolls her eyes while smoke puffs out of her glossed lips.

getting bored, you lean dramatically into satoru's arm. “this suuucks! i just wanna see someone race.”

“well,” satoru giggles and ruffles your hair. “we can’t keep clutch waiting around. let’s find someone else.”

the five of you walk over to the shoulder, where the crowd is growing more anxious by the second. they look at your brother expectantly, and whispers of the man who bailed float around.

“looks like he’s not showing up,” suguru announces. “who wants to go?”

the crowd quiets to a murmur, everyone turning heads and waiting for someone to volunteer.

“i'll race you.”

you look up to see the black-haired boy from earlier today, the one that was next to ino. his face holds no expression and his hands are buried in his pockets. he looks like he couldn’t give less of a fuck. his stoic eyes and strong jaw reminds you of someone, but you can’t begin to place who.

“alright, fushiguro,” your brother nods. “let’s go.”

oh, fushiguro? you had no idea he had a son. no— he goes by zenin, right? you recall the exciting stories your dad would tell you as a kid of his past thrilling nights and rivalries. zenin was one of them; you had seen occasional glimpses of him in the garage during visits as a child. he was an absolutely terrifying man, with a prominent scar on his mouth from a bad wreck in his youth.

“two things before we start,” fushiguro says, and your brother pauses. you spot ino, and behind him the tattooed man and the pink-haired boy, as well as another guy with a bun in his hair. you make brief eye contact and your heart flutters, before tearing your attention back to your brother.

“first, i'm racing for pinks tonight,” fushiguro states, and a few whistles come from the onlookers. “and my dad’s here tonight. so no bullshit.” he gestures to his side, but you can’t spot his father in the crowd.

“there’s never bullshit,” suguru scoffs. “racing for pinks? fine. your r34 will cry in relief when i finally get behind the wheel of that thing.”

the jab doesn’t stick for you and your unfamiliarity of the shadows’ racing style, but the onlookers snicker as they know that fushiguro is a notoriously aggressive driver and runs through cars and tires faster than anyone here tonight. he doesn’t respond to your brother, but leaves to pull his car up to the starting line. suguru revs his engine to make sure its warmed up, it purrs and pulls in place.

satoru and kento send him off with handshakes and pats before heading to their own vehicles to different markers along the pass. there will be someone posted at each mile with a radio to update the listening crowd on the race, as well as warn the drivers and audience of any hazards or police as they make their way down the line. you stick your head through suguru's open window.

“drive safe, sugu,” you smile, pressing a small peck to his cheek.

“don’t worry ‘bout me, clutch,” he smiles, not a single nervous bone in his body. “when i get his r34, i'll let you have it.”

you and shoko stand off to the side as the flag girl settles between suguru and fushiguro’s cars, raising her arms. the paints glitter under the moonlight and stars, trembling over their hot engines as they start to burnout at the countdown, prepping their tires and getting them sticky. your heart starts to pound once more, the anticipation and stakes of the race are almost too much to handle. her arms fly downwards, and the race begins.

the two cars peel away from the line, the rubber screeching out and making your ears ring. you let out cheers and shouts alongside the crowd as your brother flies deep into the forest, motors screaming as they echo through the mountainside and disappear.

“phantoms start in the lead,” you hear the pager crackle and boom from a nearby stereo system.

the crowd fizzles a bit, most of them turning back to conversations and liquor bottles while the race fanatics gather closer to the stereo, you along with them.

“i’m gonna go catch up with some friends,” shoko says, motioning towards a group of rowdy girls across the road. “you wanna come with, or stay and listen to the race?”

“i’ll stay,” you respond. “but go on ahead! i’ll see you in a bit.”

you wave her off and take a seat on a rounded post that supported the road’s guardrail, just a few feet behind the crowd bunched around the stereo.

“mile 1, phantoms in the lead,” you hear kento’s voice over the speaker.

“hey!”

your head turns, eyes landing on ino. he stands before you with that same sweet smile.

“oh, hi!” you smile. “thanks again for the pictures, ino-san.”

“it’s no big deal, i’m glad you liked them.”

“so,” you shift in your seat. “you didn’t wanna race my brother tonight, huh?”

“not tonight. i’m still getting my baby tuned just right after some new tires. your brother isn’t easy to race, but i guess megumi wanted the smoke tonight,” he jokes.

“there’s no way suguru would give up his car so easily,” it’s your turn to tease again. “it’s a good thing he won’t lose.”

ino laughs, the handsome sound making the tips of your ears turn hot. “well, megumi won’t give up any easier. so i guess we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“mile 2, shadows in the lead,” and the listeners chatter at the update.

“you know, for someone who’s never passed through mount hakone, you had a pretty quick time this morning,” he steps closer to you. “your brother must’ve taught you well.”

“he keeps me calm,” you nod. “but my time wasn’t that impressive. i think i've just had some good practice swinging around intersections back home.”

“mile 3, phantoms in the lead,” the speaker crackles again. you glance up at ino after the announcement and he sheepishly smiles.

“looks like it’s gonna be a close one,” he shrugs. “well, no matter the outcome… uh—”

he clears his throat. “—we're all gonna hang out at the underground after the race. you should come!”

“the underground?”

“it’s a club in shibuya we usually go to. it’ll just be my boys and a few other close friends meeting up there.” the dim floodlights fail to hide the light shade of pink that tinges ino’s cheeks. your stomach flips at his offer, heart pounding. your fingers twitch.

“oh, i don’t think my brother would like that very much,” you giggle nervously, your own cheeks turning red. “but thanks so much for inviting me!”

“no worries… i better leave you alone before someone rats me out,” he grins. “uh, text me, yeah?”

“mile 4, shadows in the lead.”

you politely nod. “see you around!”

“for sure,” ino takes two steps away from you before he turns back around. “by the way, you look beautiful tonight, y/n.”

he’s gone before you can even process it.

✰✰✰✰✰

takuma ino has great timing, because no less than 5 minutes after he disappears, you spot satoru’s and kento’s tall mess of light hairs bobbing through the crowd. they’ve done their jobs and have made their way back up the mountain to wait for suguru to cross the line once more. blue eyes meet yours and he waves with a smile as he guides kento to you.

“suguru’s got this one in the bag,” he reassures, patting your head like a dog.

“ugh, don’t do that, toru!”

“why?” he brings his face closer to yours. “tryna look pretty for someone, hm?”

“quit, satoru,” kento huffs.

“no,” you reply. “most girls don’t like when their hair gets fucked up after spending so long on it. you should know that better than anyone.”

satoru feigns a gasp, as if he doesn’t see a different girl every weekend. “are you calling me a slut?”

“well i’m not saying you’re a virgin.”

“jesus, stop it,” kento says.

“mile 7, shadows in the lead.”

“they’ve been going back and forth all night,” you point out over the chatter. “suguru will be upset if he has to give up his keys to that boy.”

“he’d kill someone before allowing that to happen,” kento reassures, but it doesn’t sound comforting to you. 

suguru is one of the most relaxed people you know, even his angry words aren’t loud. but he has a kill switch, and there’s nothing scarier than your brother when his temper is lost. you’ve only experienced it twice before, but each incident had left your younger self frozen in fear when his voice and hands would finally raise towards someone. suguru doesn’t fight often, but when he does, his hard fists always land.

“toru, is this fushiguro from the same family as papa’s friend?” you ask. you start to hear the racing motors tearing through the pass, creeping closer and closer. “i thought he went by zenin before.”

“it’s his kid,” he nods, propping a cigarette between his lips. “your papa used to race with him, but he got married and had a kid so his wife made him stop.”

“he took his wife’s last name,” kento adds, the explanation allows the floating information to click together inside your brain. satoru digs in his pockets.

he hands satoru a lighter. kento hates that all of his friends smoke, but gave up trying to convince them to quit a long time ago. you suspect he keeps a lighter in his pocket for when they forget one.

“mile 8, shadows still in the lead.”

“fuck, let’s go,” satoru grabs your arm as he realizes the two are in the last 1/2 mile stretch of the race. kento follows close behind as you’re pulled through an anxious crowd towards the finish line. your blood runs hot as you see the headlights of the cars come around the corner, piercing the mountain’s darkness like a knife.

you recognize suguru’s headlights as the ones in front as they continue to fight for control of the road. you sigh in relief. the cars are a blur as they fly over the finish line, suguru only a few feet ahead of fushiguro. you don’t think much of how close the race was, the crowd cheers and you go pushing between satoru and kento to run towards your brother, stomach twirling in excitement. a few others do the same as the boys slam on their brakes, sending their cars swinging sideways to skid into an abrupt stop haphazardly in the middle of the road.

suguru leaps out of his seat and slams the door behind him, hard. 

oh?

“what the FUCK?!”

you slow your jog as your eyes widen, barely recognizing his roaring voice as cuts into the air. megumi exits his car as well, planting his feet on the warm concrete with tense shoulders and furrowed brows. suguru rushes over to the boy, sweat dripping down his temple from the adrenaline of the pass with fists clenched. you can see the white of his knuckles. his dark hair, which he had pulled into a neat bun, was now a loose and frizzy mess. you come to a stop with heavy breathe, no more than 10 feet away from them.

“you tryna fucking kill me, fushiguro?!”

“shut the fuck up, geto!”

“don’t fucking play with me right now!”

a hand clamps down on your shoulder, jolting you back. you look up and see satoru, his blue eyes wild and serious. your gaze drops down to where his hand rests on the front of his waistband, allowing a rectangular form to be seen through his shirt. 

whoa. since when did satoru own a gun?

“y/n. stay. back.”

you barely hear his snappy command over your racing thoughts. you’re stuck to the concrete, feet unable to move. satoru runs over to suguru and suddenly kento is there as well, latching onto suguru’s shirt with a tight grip. ino appears with the black-haired guy with face tattoos and the broad-shouldered man-bun behind him, all of them hot in the face.

“why the fuck are you driving like that, huh?!” your brother screams, pulling closer and closer to fushiguro. you can only watch the ugly scene in front of you as your stomach flips over on itself. suguru doesn't talk like this to anyone for anything, you know he's teetering over the edge of going absolutely ballistic. “just say you want me dead, just say it, pussy!”

“fuck you!” fushiguro yells back. “it doesn't matter anymore, you won. just take my damn car!”

“i don’t want your fuckass car!”

“suguru, calm down,” kento demands harshly.

“get back, geto,” ino steps in. “this is fucking stupid.”

those were not the right words to say as all the boys are face to face, and suguru lunges towards him. satoru pulls your brother back again before stepping in front of him, the man with a bun shoves into his shoulder. satoru’s pointer finger reaches over and digs into takuma’s chest.

“you don’t want this shit, ino” he hisses into ino’s face. “just leave.”

“i’m not scared of you guys,” takuma asserts, grabbing satoru hand and snatching it away from himself.

“teach your boy some fucking respect,” suguru spits. “he claimed ‘no bullshit’ but you didn’t see the way he was pushing me around back there.”

“i wanted to race, so i raced, dickhead,” fushiguro retorts.

“only your dumbass would call that racing.”

a large, calloused hand comes to rest on your nape, sending chills down your spine.

“geto.”

you aren’t sure if the deep, gruff voice is referring to you or your brother. the boys whip their heads around. when you look up at the sound, you recognize him immediately. toji fushiguro looks down at you from his towering stance, a sly smirk on his scarred lips. his messy, flat black hair casts a shadow over his eyes, making his gaze more menacing.

“please don’t touch me,” your meek voice finally finds words, barely above a whisper. although toji fushiguro’s touch is light, your instinct tells you to step away and your body moves on its own, the man lets his hand fall. it’s been years since you’ve seen this him, but he hasn’t changed other than some added wrinkles. he still exudes an intimidating aura. you can’t believe your papa drinks with this man, let alone allows him into your home.

“y/n,” suguru’s calls, tearing your attention back to him. you must look scared, because his voice is slightly calmer, gentler, than how he was speaking before. “get in the car.”

damn it, you can’t help but know you look weak in front of all these people. your mind is a whirlwind; from suguru’s anger, to satoru’s gun, and now toji fushiguro’s touch. the tips of your fingers twitch as you stare at suguru, frozen. an irritated vein stands out on his sweating forehead. you see ino over his shoulder, but you can’t read his face. you can’t tell what he’s thinking but his eyes are filled with confusion and concern. the younger fushiguro’s face also expresses worry, but his mouth stays shut.

“aw, how sweet of you,” fushiguro mocks your brother. “guess you don’t want your sweet little innocent sister seeing this ugly side of you, huh?”

why the hell is he dragging you into this?

“clutch, i’m not fucking around right now,” suguru obviously strains to keep his voice down for you. “get in kento’s car. now.”

something in your brain suddenly sparks, and you’re immediately turning around and rushing across the road and shoulder to kento’s car. your mind thinks of everything but nothing at the same time, tension reverberating from your body with each step on the concrete. you swing the door of kento’s s13 open as you practically dive into his passenger seat and slam it shut behind you.

as soon as it latches, you hear muffled shouting from several voices. you lean over, arms wrapping around your thighs and forehead resting on your knees, afraid of what you might see if you look out the windshield. you can feel you heart in your throat as you heave, your breathe hard to find in the wild confusion of the night.

the driver’s door flies open and you whip your head. kento immediately turns the motor and puts it in gear.

“i��m taking you home,” he exhales. you can tell he’s bewildered as well, his neat hair coming undone over his eyes and knuckles white over the gear shifter. when you lift you head to look out the window as he pulls away, you see a shadowy silhouette of a tall man standing on the hill behind the line of onlookers’ cars. you think you see a motorbike next to him, but he’s barely visible through the hazy fog of the mountain. it’s odd, to say the least, but not important at the moment. 

you keep quiet. you don’t think it’s worth mentioning.

✰✰✰✰✰

the way home is completely silent aside from the hum of the engine. kento drives you home quickly but safely, his rigidity slowly fading away with each push and pull of the gear shifter. but you haven’t stopped thinking— goddamnit, how you wish your brain would stop thinking. your knee bounces uncontrollably as you suck in a breathe.

“kento?” he hums and glances over to you. “how long has satoru owned a gun?”

he doesn’t speak at first and presses his lips into a tight, thin line.

“a while now,” he finally answers.

“do you have one, too?”

“no.”

“and suguru?”

kento pauses for half a second too long. 

“oh my god— how long has he had one?”

“longer than satoru,” it seems like answering these questions is causing him pain.

“are you lying to me?” your voice is small.

“never.”

it’s your turn to hesitate. you were used to seeing people carry weapons in the car scene back home, where it was so easy to get a hold of one. but to be across the world in a country where only gangs and criminals possessed them, just to find out that your brother and his best friend owned one…

it shocked you. although your mother owned a pistol back home, and you fully knew how to use it, it made you uncomfortable to think your own brother got a hold of one illegally. suguru has always been your safety blanket, the one to call when things went wrong, the one to comfort you. and satoru, the one who always had a watchful eye on the back of your head, the one who you’d always run to if suguru wasn’t there. what are they thinking?

kento parks in front of your house, but you still have one more burning question.

“have they ever… used them before?”

“i don’t think so,” he replies.

“that was supposed to be a yes or no question.”

“i can’t give you that,” he looks… sad?

fine, then. without another word, you slip out of the car and walk inside your home. kento follows right behind you, all the way up the stairs to your room. he pauses at the door, one hand on the knob, as you slump into bed. he seems to know exactly what you’re thinking even though you’re turned away.

“i’m sure your brother is fine.”

“okay,” you croak, eyes burning with tears. tonight was just so… confusing. you could barely wrap your mind around what happened and most importantly, why?

“please try not to worry and get some sleep,” he replies, his voice gentle and solid. “i’ll let him know that you’re home and safe now.”

you hear him shut your bedroom door and pad down the stairs. when he locks the front door after him, you once again hear your papa’s snoring. only then do you let the tears fall, hot and heavy, but suddenly they’re angry tears. you kick off your boots and shove your face into the pillows, you fists trembling with irritation around the fabric.

how could suguru be so... stupid?

✰✰✰✰✰

shadow.takuma: hey are u ok?

shadow.takuma: are u home now??

you snatch up your phone at the notifications. you’ve calmed down now, but the fact that takuma is checking in on your before your own brother is sending hot blood through your veins once again.

clutchcruises: i’m home and i’m totally fine. are you okay?

shadow.takuma: yeah i’m ok!

shadow.takuma: i’m so sorry about megumi’s dad. i didn’t know he was gonna do that

shadow.takuma: and i'm sorry about how i was talking to ur brother

shadow.takuma: it was all really out of pocket

oh? that’s not really the explanation you were expecting.

clutchcruises: it’s okay. don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything!

shadow.takuma: no pls i feel awful. i feel like he really scared u

shadow.takuma: i think he just did it to get ur brother worked up

clutchcruises: he knew it would bc he knows my dad

clutchcruises: i remember him from when i was a kid

shadow.takuma: seriously??

shadow.takuma: that makes it worse… i’m so so sorry

clutchcruises: seriously, it’s alright! i’m over it now

you were totally not over it.

shadow.takuma: ok… well i get it if ur not up for it but i’ll still be at the underground tonight

shadow.takuma: just in case u decide to come!

clutchcruises: it really sounds fun, i’ve never been out in tokyo before

clutchcruises: i just don’t think it’s a good idea rn, i’m sorry

shadow.takuma: don’t be sorry :) i totally get it

shadow.takuma: text me if u change ur mind?

as soon as you like his last message, suguru’s name takes over your phone screen. you sit up in bed and answer the call.

“suguru.”

“y/n? ken told me you’re safe at home?” he sounds stressed.

“yeah.”

“are you okay?”

“i’m... a lot of things right now,” you admit solemnly. the frustrated tears reappear in your eyes but never fall. “are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you hear the crackles as he adjusts his phone. “i’m so sorry. i’m fucking embarrassed.”

you stay silent, biting down on your lip. you don’t know how to respond.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he continues. “i totally lost my temper. and when fushiguro came over, i knew i was about to completely lose it. i can’t believe he put his hands on you, i just—”

“—suguru,” you cut him off and he quiets. “why didn’t you tell me that you and satoru carried guns?”

he pauses. “i just didn’t think you needed to know.”

“where did you even fucking get them?!” you rarely got mad at suguru, but you couldn’t help but snap at him.

“you don’t need to know that either.”

“why not? don’t i deserve to know?”

another pause. “…no.”

you take a deep breathe. “when will you be home?”

“in a while. can we talk then, if you’re still up?”

“i’m still a little upset with you, suguru.” you bite your lip. “can we just wait until the morning?”

“yeah, i guess. get some sleep, okay?”

“suguru?”

“yeah?”

“…i’m going out tonight.”

“...with who?”

“some girls i made friends with tonight.”

you feel him hesitate through the phone. the phone crackles again as he fumbles with it. you wish you could see what he was doing, but a part of you doesn’t even want to know.

“...be safe and smart, please... call me if you need anything. and text me when you’re on the way home.”

“i will.”

“thank you.”

“love you, nii-chan.”

“love you too, clutch.”

✰✰✰✰✰

clutchcruises: otw

you have no idea what you’re doing, honestly. the words just came out of your mouth on the phone with suguru. sure, you wanted to meet up with takuma, but you weren’t actually planning on coming. and after all the bullshit that’s happened tonight, a drink sounds so good. you admit to yourself that you also just wanted to do something rebellious towards your brother after pissing you off.

your fingers thrum against the gear shifter as your mustang purrs through the bright streets of tokyo. you had stripped out of your corset and skirt into backless, dark green halter dress before fussing with your hair. you had never pulled on your platform combat boots so fast in your life. you kneaded your glossed lips together, anxious to death over walking into a club on your own. you were really going to hang out with a boy you’ve had one face-to-face conversation with, and for what? 

the plot? what plot?

after parking, you walked silently alongside scattered and rowdy strangers through the street of shibuya, eyeing your phone desperately. takuma still hasn’t responded to your message. good lord, what are you doing? what will your excuse be when suguru finds out?

you find yourself at the back of the line into the underground far too quickly for your liking. you can hear the pounding bass of the music from outside, echoing through your bones. the girls in front of you wear skirts so short and heels so high that you’re really starting to doubt yourself now. why are you here? the bouncer probably won’t even let you in once he sees the beautiful girls before you—

“y/n!”

you look up, meeting eyes with takuma. he gently wraps his hand around yours.

“you don’t need to wait,” he smiles. “i know the guy who runs this place. c’mon!”

he pulls you out of line and towards the door, where the bouncer doesn’t even look twice as you walk past. takuma leads you down a set of dark stairs, still holding you hand. your eyes widen when you reach the bottom. a huge room opens before you, neon lights and lasers scanning over the cramped crowd and huge speakers lining the ceiling, vibrating with every beat of the catchy song playing. 

the walls are lined with couples messily smacking faces while the dj booth stands in the center of the room with a circular bar surrounding it entirely. it’s one ginormous hub of drinking and dancing while booths and tables make small bubbles of calm as they’re scattered sparsely throughout the bodies.

just before you’re consumed by the crowd, takuma turns and puts a warm palm on the small of your bare back. he leans in, his hot and liquored breathe in your ear. your stomach flips and it feels like your body temperature raises about 20 degrees.

“the shadows have a booth by the bar,” he says. “if you want to drink tonight, we’ve got it all.”

you nod, hoping the neon lasers disguise your bright red cheeks. he grins and takes your hand once again, leading you into the sea of people. it’s completely packed, and you can’t help but be pushed around between drunks. thankfully, takuma never loses his hold on you, even when you harshly bump into a tall, stiff body.

“sorry!” you shout at them over the music.

the person looks down at you with a glare, leaving you cowering. it’s a rough-looking man about suguru’s age who grips a beer and wears a skin tight black shirt and jeans. he has light-colored hair, but you can’t exactly tell what color through the rainbow of lights over you. what you can see, however, is the absolutely horrifying tattoos that cover his face and arms. sharp, black lines blanket his nose, forehead, and jawline. thick bands wrap around his biceps and wrists.

as takuma pulls you away, the man gives you a sly smirk. he stands completely still among the constant movement around him. his dark eyes make direct, excruciating contact with yours until you disappear. you aren’t given any more time to dwell on his odd behavior as takuma leads you into the shadows’ wide, round booth.

the table is sticky with liquor and littered with cigarette butts and empty bottles. megumi and the pink-haired boy are standing and pouring shots, while man-bun and space-buns sit back in the booth, both with girls on their laps and wrapped around their necks. a couple other guys are here, but you don’t recognize them. the four that you do know, however, look up at you with wide eyes.

“uh, takuma?” fushiguro asks.

“what the hell?” man-bun says from his seat. the pink-haired and tattooed boys stay quiet.

“megumi!” takuma smiles at him and puts a hand on the small of your back once again. “this is y/n!”

“i know…” he responds, hesitant. “you— i didn’t think—”

“it’s okay, fushiguro-kun!” you smile with a shrug. “don’t worry about it!”

“i—” he stops and puts his hand to his chest before bowing sheepishly. it seems out of character for him, and you think he might already be drunk by the way he unsteadily sways. “i’m so sorry about me and my dad earlier.”

you wave him off. “seriously, it’s alright!”

“oh wait, that’s the girl?” pink-hair says, obviously very slow to understand. his glazed eyes tell you he’s been drinking for a while.

“a shot or two might make up for it all,” you tease.

“i’m yuji itadori!” he points to space-buns and tattoos first, then the man-bun. “and that’s choso kamo and aoi todo.”

megumi grabs a different bottle. “i hope you like vodka.”

“and i hope you like menthol.” yuji holds a thin white cigarette and lighter out to you, which you accept immediately.

“pour me one too, megumi!” takuma grabs your shoulders. “we gotta celebrate!”

“celebrate what?” you ask. his face is right next to yours as he leans over your shoulder. you can’t peel your eyes away from his glittering brown eyes and toothy smile. he shrugs.

“you’re came. what’s not to celebrate?”

✰✰✰✰✰

once again, your actions are beyond yourself. you didn’t plan to actually come out, but here you were in the underground. you didn’t plan to drink, but here you are with your 3rd drink in your hand after 3 shots, teetering over the line from tipsy to drunk. you didn’t plan on things to go so smoothly, but here you are sitting back in the booth after an hour of nonstop conversation beside takuma. his hand never left you the entire time, either around your hand or on your back while the other held a drink.

but you definitely didn’t plan to blurt out a question you already knew the answer to.

“do you like to dance, takuma?” you immediately regret asking, you just know he’s going to reject you.

“i thought you’d never ask,” he laughs. “i love dancing.”

takuma quickly stands up and pulls you out of the booth. he leads you deeper into the crowd until he finds enough space for the two of you to move. takuma pulls you into his side by the waist, then hesitates and loosens his hold.

“i’m sorry,” he says submissively. “i’m drunk.”

“don’t worry,” you giggle in his ear. “me too.”

takuma turns his face into yours. he looks at you with glassy, half-lidded eyes. your noses are just inches away from each other. your sweet vanilla perfume is making him dizzy. you don’t know his stomach is fluttering wildly with butterflies. he doesn’t know yours is too.

the dj transitions into the next song. it’s a mix but you instantly recognize the beat. you gasp.

“oh my god, i love this song!”

takuma smiles. “i’ve never heard this.”

“that’s cause it’s only for the girls.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and his hands come to rest on your waist. now that you’ve stood up and under the strobing lights, you realize you’re much drunker than you thought you were, but can’t find the effort the care anymore. takuma has had his eyes and hands on nothing but you since you got here, but you still want more.

“dance with me, kuma,��� you find your intoxicated voice murmuring in his ear as you smile and start swaying your hips. his head spins while his fingertips lightly dig into your sides at your words. takuma swears he’ll never let go. he moves in sync with you to the beat, a permanent grin etched across his face.

he simply can’t believe the situation he’s in right now. the only coherent thought in his liquor-filled head is you. with your silky hair fluttering over his skin and his large hands over the curves of your hips and waist, separated only by the satin of your green dress… someone help him. his brain does backflips every time he’s made contact with the exposed skin of your back. your cheeks are pink from the shots and your glossed lips are puffy from being pursed around a straw or cigarette all night. he just can’t look away.

at first, all takuma wanted was a good look at you, your undeniable innocent beauty was like a magnet he couldn’t escape from. so how did he manage to get you here tonight, drunk and giggly with your body pressed flush against his? god, suguru would beat his ass on sight if he could see where takuma had his hands on you right now.

“you’re a good dancer, takuma.”

“am i?” he twirls the both of you around, evoking a sweet squeal from you before pulling you tighter against him to lean down and whisper in your ear. “what happened to ‘kuma’?”

your face turns red with embarrassment. you wrap your hand around his jaw and turn it away from your burning ear, a finger lingering on his bottom lip. takuma playfully bares his teeth and lightly bites the end of your nail, making your eyes widen before pulling your hand away with a small yelp. he just laughs, he has no idea what he’s doing. the song ends and transitions to another.

“another song?” takuma asks. 

god, he hopes you say yes.

“duh!” you laugh. he spins you so your back is against his chest.

“good, i don’t want you to leave me just yet.”

✰✰✰✰✰

you don’t know how long you and takuma danced for. it seemed like only 5 minutes, but it must’ve been another hour. your feet start to hurt and the liquor is setting in, making you dizzy.

“you okay, pretty girl?” takuma asks, the new nickname tumbling out of his mouth before he knows it. you nod in response. he doesn’t miss your lidded eyes staring at his lips instead of his eyes. 

“you tired?” 

“no,” you shake your head. “but i know i should go home soon.”

he has you facing him again, holding you close. your hand finds takuma’s nape and your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair, sending goosebumps down his back. disappointed by your words, he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

“i don’t want you to go,” he admits.

“me neither.”

your noses bump. takuma’s stomach drops. you sigh. he thinks and thinks, then thinks against it. seconds go by…

“you’re so beautiful.” he mumbles. you giggle shyly in response.

nah, fuck it.

“y/n…” his breathe is hot against your lips. “…can i kiss you?”

“yes, please.”

he reaches up, lightly cupping the side of your face. he’s gentle as your mouths connect, moving his lips against yours so soft and slow. he feels you melt into him, and he deepens the kiss. he lets his lips move in sync with yours, the sweet taste of your lip gloss sending searing waves of need down his stomach every time he catches a hint of it.

oh god, he’s practically floating.

you’ve been driving him insane all night, singing to all the songs in his ear and breathing softly on his neck. and even through the most passionate kiss he’s had in his life, his shitfaced brain understands completely that he’s utterly infatuated with you.

takuma slowly, reluctantly pulls away. it leaves both of you panting while your noses continue to poke and prod as he holds your jaw. your cheeks are bright red, and you know it’s not from the alcohol this time. you’re suddenly hypersensitive of his gentle hands against your cheek and the bottom of your back. your stomach feels light and jittery.

you don’t know what to think, incapable of processing anything coherently after takuma kissed you like that. in the few silent seconds after, you must replay it in your mind a hundred times over. you’ve never felt like this before.

nothing else settles in your mind, only takuma ino… but the one thing you seem to be able to comprehend in your empty little head right now rests over you like a warm blanket—

it’s so over for you.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 1 // next: chapter 3

tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka

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© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 3

Summary: Now that you have a party to plan, you decide to start with the decorations... but Negan has a more exciting idea in mind.

Word Count: 5.2k

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Negan being an asshole, reader being an asshole too ?

previous chapter can be found here

After your vow to stay resolute in your (accidental) decision to help with the Christmas party, you vanished on Negan. He half-expected you to ambush him first thing the next morning but nothing came.  

In a perfect world, you would have gone home that day, realized your pettiness and followed Negan’s original advice. You would have humbled yourself and gone straight to Gregory, petitioning for this pain in the ass party to be called off.

“Carl! That funky eye of yours doesn’t mean your legs don’t work!” Negan shouts at one of the students in his afternoon class “Run for the ball, damn it! Quit standing on the sidelines!”.

The whistle around Negan’s neck swings as he struts along the side of the basketball court, muttering to himself. Despite the chill in the air, it’s sunny outside and so they’re not all stuck inside the sports hall, where Negan would’ve been trapped in the thick air of sweaty, hormonal teens. 

But that’s not the only reason he’s glad to be outside on the courts. After Negan’s plan backfired and filled you with spiteful devotion to the Christmas party, he can’t bear to be in the sports hall, knowing it’s only a matter of time before his colleagues wreck havoc on his little slice of heaven.

A polite cough behind him pulls him out of his thoughts. Negan is about to grumble to some kid to cover their mouth but when he glances behind, he sees you instead. 

“Fan- fucking -tastic,” Negan says drily “my day has just got ten times better”.

The sight of a notebook pressed against your chest makes him want to groan. Hoping for some kind of a miracle, he asks “You get the party cancelled yet?”.

You join him by the sidelines, smiling mischievously. “Nope,” you reply cheerfully “I think I’d rather torture you by making you help organize it instead”. 

Negan scoffs, looking back at the game. You take it as your que to continue. Looking down at your notebook you read the small list you’ve made of the different categories you’ll both have to tackle. 

Food. Drink. Music. Decorations.

You read your small list out loud before thinking “Is there anything else a party needs? I guess we could have some kinda entertainment, right?”.

With a long exhale, Negan rubs his forehead “You want a bunch of middle aged teachers to play party games?”. 

You shrug “Well, I don’t know how else to keep them entertained…”

“Booze. That’s all you need, not charades or pin the tail on the donkey”.

You write that down, encircling the drinks category before continuing “Well, I’m free for the rest of the day so whenever you want to—“.

“Christ, Patrick! Follow through on your shot!” Negan interrupts, yelling at another poor kid “better fix that limp wrist for your sake!”.

You blink at the… uh… advice, if you could call it that. 

Negan begins making his way down the side of the court, following the action surrounding the basketball as he shouts more words of wisdom. You watch with a mix of curiosity and disbelief, suddenly feeling more confident in your own, calmer teaching style.  

When Negan finally turns his attention back to you, he raises an eyebrow, his tone turning sarcastic again.

"Class ends in about ten minutes. How about we talk afterwards, so you're not following me around like a damn shadow?" he sighs, checking his watch.

Before you can retort your own thinly veiled insult, he’s off shouting at the kids again, this time clapping his arms to really amp them up.

You shake your head, grip tightening on your notebook as you turn on your heels to leave. Your plan was to just wait in his office but once you get to the door, your eyes are drawn to the adjacent double doors of the sports hall. 

If this is where you’ll be having the party, you may as well get a lay of the land now. 

Creeping inside the barren hall, it’s the quietest you’ve ever seen it. The large room is almost eerie without the clatter of basketballs or the sounds of kids shouting. You pause in the doorway, taking in the empty space. Soon, it’ll be filled with noise— this time, for the Christmas party you’ve roped yourself into.

Walking deeper into the room, you wonder how much convincing it’ll take to get Negan up on a ladder to hang tinsel and string lights across the high ceiling. The hall is desperate for some holiday ambience and your brain aches as you try to figure out just how much tinsel will be needed.

Thankfully, your phone buzzes with a welcome distraction. 

Carol: You want to be a good samaritan and help me bake some cookies after school? Need them for the bake sale 

You: Have my hands full planning party 

You: but I could be tempted if I get to taste test some :D

After you informed everyone that you will be planning the party (and to hold off on the barrage of questions), Carol was the only one who didn’t give you a pitiful look when you mentioned it being you and Negan organizing it.

“Negan’s… complicated,” she told you this morning. Surprisingly, that was the most polite description of him you’ve heard.

“Just keep your distance, keep your head down and do the work” Carol listed “he’ll complain a lot but he will get the job done. Eventually”.

Given how much people seem to dislike him, hearing a neutral take felt like a welcome shift.

Carol: you’re starting to sound like my students

You let out a soft laugh before quickly typing a reply, letting her know you’re not sure if you’ll be finished with Negan by then. As much as you hate to admit it, you know how easily you two can fall into a back-and-forth, letting the time slip away without even realizing it.

Carol replies with a thumbs up, and to kill some time, you check the group chat. It’s been a while since you’ve looked at the new messages.

You don’t blame yourself though, not when it’s where you got yourself into this mess. It’s like returning to the scene of a crime but this time you know better than to hurriedly send in a text.

Gregory: WHO GOT THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS INSTALLATION VAN CLAMPED

Gregory: HOW? WHY?????

Sasha: I told you they shouldn’t park in designated spaces 

Rosita: they had their warning

Gregory: they want to school to pay the fee

Sasha: better than slashed tires

Gregory: go to principal Grime’s office , this needs to be sorted now

Rosita: I’m in the middle of teaching a class ??

Gregory: and you’re busy texting?!?!?!?

Gregory: both of you. Principal Grime’s office. NOW

A chuckle from behind makes you shiver and jerk away, hot breath fanning against the side of your neck. Negan peers over at your phone, having read the messages.

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation” he snorts, offering you a smirk as you tuck your phone away “can’t say I blame Rosita though, Gregory’s definitely the type of asshat that let them park there”.

“Yeah and you wanted me to talk to that asshat about getting this party cancelled” you grumble, irritation creeping into your tone

“In the past, sweetness,” Negan smiles just to annoy you “now we’re a team, ain’t we?”.

“In the past?! Negan, that was yesterday!” you point out exasperatedly, wandering around the hall to burn off some of your already pent up energy.

“And yesterday is in the past”.

You shoot him a glare but all that achieves is a wider grin looking back at you. Damn him. You run a hand down your face, forcing yourself to stop— both physically and mentally.

Negan’s trying to get you to bite, to start bickering with him so you’ll lose focus on the party and storm off. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather yourself. Unfortunately, when you open them again he still has that cocky smile on his face that makes you want to throttle him.

“Do you have any decorations from the previous years?” Your tone is sharper than necessary but that’s what he gets when he’s being a jerk.

“Usually, they’d host this shit at a fancy little place called the Kingdom, so we don’t have much” he replies, his demeanor easing now that you haven’t taken the bait.

“Really?” you question, expecting at least a worn down Christmas tree “What about things for a nativity or Christmas carols?”.

“Yeah cause nothing screams party like having the fuckin’ nativity scene laid out in the middle of the room” Negan teases, fishing keys out of the back pocket of his sweatpants.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you match his sarcasm with a dose of your own “Well, no, I’m not suggesting we all get drunk in front of baby Jesus”.

Negan lets out a small chuckle, but it sounds unfamiliar. This isn’t the mischievous laugh you heard when he tried to set you up, nor is it the smirk he gave you when you were badmouthing him.

No, this is something else. It’s a rare, genuine sound– a laugh that seems to catch even him off guard. And strangely enough, it’s aimed at you. You try not to linger on it, not wanting to make things awkward.

“If you wanna have a look yourself, knock yourself out” Negan strides over to the small storage room door and you follow behind as he unlocks it.

You stand there, waiting for him to open it but he doesn’t. Instead, Negan pauses for a moment, then he turns to face you with that familiar, smug grin.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases, letting the question hang in the air.

“I— ugh! Negan!” you scold, stepping forward and pushing the door open yourself. Negan doesn’t stop you, even flicking the light on as you go first. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” Negan says, grabbing one of the boxes to prop the door open. “This shit’s old... probably as old as me, so the door’s heavy and a real bastard to yank open from the inside”.

Inside, you’re met with a chaotic mess; boxes piled on top of boxes, cones and rackets scattered across the floor, and a jumble of balls stacked on a rack against the wall.

Technically, the room is large but with all the clutter, there’s barely enough space to move around. Inching your way across a small clearing, you almost wedge yourself between two tall stacks of boxes. “Any idea which ones might have the festive goods?” you ask. 

“Pretty sure it’s the two at the back,” Negan trails after you, clearly uninterested “y’can usually see a bit of tinsel shimmering through the box”.

“This is a good start… I guess,” you try to take an optimistic approach “at least there’s something here”.

You carefully navigate through the maze of clutter, sidestepping loose javelins and dodging stray tennis balls. The mess makes every step feel like a mini obstacle course.

As you finally reach the last stack, you tug the lid off the nearest box, the dust tickling your nose. Peering inside, you slowly begin to sift through its contents—a jumble of tinsel, some baubles that have no string and a few random holiday knickknacks.

Negan leans against the next stack of boxes, arms crossed, watching you with mild amusement.

“Oh wow, you’re just going straight for it, huh?” he commentates, unbothered to help “it’s like you’re on a treasure hunt… y’know if you want to find the real treasure, you’re in luck”.

You don’t bite, not believing his bullshit. Even with no response, Negan continues “I know exactly where to find the crown jewels”. He gives you a wink but you miss it, keeping your head down as you rummage.

”… hellllllloooooo?” he pokes your side.

You pull out a handful of mismatched ornaments and toss them at him. “Maybe you should stop doing nothing and actually help?” you suggest as he barely manages to catch them.

With an exaggerated sigh, Negan starts to search the second box. “I was doing something,” he protests, carelessly looking through the box “flirting, if you didn’t notice”.

“Yeah, well if that’s your idea of flirting, I pray I’m not your type” you jeer.

This time, Negan doesn’t reply. You wonder if he’s taking a page out of your book and ignoring you but then you feel his eyes land on you. 

Readying your disapproving look, you turn to meet Negan’s gaze. “What?” you ask, already annoyed by whatever shenanigan he’s about to pull. 

With the ghost of a smirk, Negan simply stares at you for a moment. He doesn’t let his eyes wander like how you expected, the action something you thought he’d do just to get a rise out of you. Wetting his lips, Negan teasingly pulls his hand out of the box, bringing with it a tattered piece of mistletoe. 

“Guess there’s only one way to find out if you’re my type” he shakes the mistletoe, accidentally making one of the plastic leaves fall off.

“Oh fuck off” you don’t stop the words coming out of your mouth, turning on your heels to leave.

Flinging the mistletoe back into the box, Negan follows. You’re half tempted to kick the box that’s keeping the door open just to lock him in, but his long strides allow him to catch up with you in no time. 

“Awh, c’mon,” he teases “are you always in ‘teacher mode’ ?”.

“Only when I’m around immature people”.

“Very funny,” Negan comments as you storm back out to the empty hall. He can tell he’s almost got you; you’re so close to walking out, yet you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Negan knows how to push people’s buttons— it's one of his favorite hobbies. He enjoys testing how much people will tolerate, seeing what it takes to crack them. For some, a single remark is enough to make them fold, while others can take a whole barrage, letting it build up bit by bit. 

The most frustrating thing about you is that you can take a lot, all while throwing your own taunts right back at him. You rub your forehead, trying to will yourself into not punching him.

“You got any classes left today?” he breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly conversational considering the amount of teasing he’s been doing. 

Every question feels like a set up for some next lewd joke or suggestion and so you simply nod your head. 

“Perfect,” he says, locking up the storage room and tossing the keys up into the air before catching them “let’s go grab some new decorations”.

You raise an eyebrow, curious, but Negan doesn’t wait around. As he strolls out of the hall, you have to quicken your pace to keep up with him.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He glances over his shoulder, speaking to you as if you’re a three year old. “we go shop, buy new decorations, you happy, party less shit looking”.

“But don’t you have classes?” you badger him, watching as Negan makes a quick stop by his office. He drops the keys onto his desk, grabs his coat, and snatches up his car keys.

“Yeah, but Mark can cover for me,” he replies casually, clearly unfazed “it’s the bastard’s last day before his vacation, he can do some extra work”.

The last thing you expected was for Negan to suggest going on a quick trip together, especially with how little you two can tolerate each other. Negan lets out a short laugh when he sees your wary expression, clearly unconcerned. 

“He’ll figure it out,” he says nonchalantly, pulling out his phone to shoot a quick text to the other coach “it’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t give Fat Joey my class, don’t trust that fucker to teach gym”.

“Negan!” you slap his arm “Rude”.

He shrugs. 

The two of you walk out of the school and head toward the teacher’s parking lot. As you look around, a wave of hesitation hits you.

Even though you don’t have any more classes to teach today, you can’t shake the feeling that leaving early feels like you’re playing hooky.

Negan notices in an instant. With a small chuckle, he places both hands on your shoulders and gives you a gentle nudge forward.

“C’mon, Ms. Goody Two Shoes,” he teases, steering you toward his pick up truck “we won’t be gone long”.

You hesitate for a moment, still unsure. “Are you sure?” you try to look up at him as he directs you toward the passenger side “I don’t mind driving myself and meeting you there”.

“No need. I’ve got it covered,” he replies, taking his hands off you to open the door. With the automatic roll of your eyes, you get in.

The car ride to the store is a mix of awkward tension and playful banter. As Negan drives, he leans back in his seat with an easy confidence. Every now and then, he throws in a flirtatious comment but for the most part, he keeps it PG.

Surprisingly, Negan actually asked about you and why you’d move to “such a backend fuckin’ town”. You grabbed the opportunity to not argue or get flirted with and instead babbled on about why you needed a break away from your hometown (making sure to skip all the family rifts and drama). 

Pulling into the Target parking lot, the familiar smirk of the Negan you know resurfaces.

"I can always make time to give ya a real tour of the town," he says, and for a brief moment, you almost believe he's being sincere—until he adds, "With or without the extra stop at mine afterwards."

You let out an exaggerated sigh as he parks, shaking your head. "You're like a comedian that only knows one joke and no matter how many times it falls flat, you just keep saying it anyways".

Negan’s eyebrows bounce up as his truck comes to a stop, his tone dripping with cockiness “Oh it works real well, 99.9% success rate”.

“Wow, you’re just like bleach” you shoot back as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

Getting out of the truck and heading into the store, he proudly replies “All I have to say is I have been told I’m killer in the bedroom, so maybe I am like bleach”.

Shaking your head, you opt for a small basket instead of dragging around a massive cart. The last thing you need is Negan laughing as you struggle to control one of those things. 

“Do you have an off switch?” You taunt. 

Taking the basket off you, Negan’s fingers brush yours. He takes full advantage, tilting to the side so his tall frame is closer to your eye level.

Lowering his voice to what you can only assume is what he uses in the bedroom, he seductively growls “Wanna try to find it?”.

The look you give him says everything, and with a sharp ‘hmph ,’ you head toward the holiday section, letting him trail behind.

As you pass the Christmas trees, you glance at them, already knowing you’ll need to check your budget before committing to one for the party. This trip feels more like a reconnaissance mission—just picking up a few affordable things if you find them while scouting what else they have to offer.

Meanwhile, Negan simply drifts by, clearly bored now that the playful banter has faded. He’s like a kid that’s been dragged into grocery shopping with his mom—picking up random items and staring at the ceiling, hoping for some kind of entertainment. 

Negan would’ve spent his time staring at your ass but he knows better than to risk it. You’d throw a nutcracker at him if you caught him perving on you.

“ Neeeeeeegan ?” You drag out his name, watching the man completely zone out.

As much as you want to give him a piece of your mind, you can’t say you’re surprised. You both knew this was going to be a pain.

The only reason you’re party planning is out of spite, while Negan’s just here because he doesn’t want his sports hall to be trashed by either terrible decorations or the teachers on the night.  

Shaking the wreath in your hands, the bells jingle and you call out again “Negan? Hello?”.

Looking back to you, his expression softens just enough to pass as a real smile rather than a smirk. “I heard you the first time, I just like hearing you say my name,” he says, his tone playful.

You scoff, fighting the urge to smile. Unfortunately, you’re human so when a handsome man throws you a compliment, it’s impossible not to react, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he can be.

… handsome ?

You quickly shove that thought aside, irritated that your brain so easily confessed that. He is handsome, but… he’s Negan. An asshole, in other words.  

Alright, time to stop thinking about that.

“I, uh…” you swallow, trying to get your thoughts in order “The wreath! If we drape a tablecloth over the desks and put one of these in front of each, that’ll look nice, right?”

Negan gives a casual nod, eyes shifting between the wreath and the rows of holiday decorations.

“I mean, the desks are just for finger food and drinks anyways but… it’ll be festive!” you find yourself rambling, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. 

He scoffs at how you try to justify spending some money a on wreath, taking a few steps toward the sales section.

“How about…” Negan starts, picking up a small pumpkin statue priced at just a dollar, “…we buy a bunch of these and throw a Christmas hat on ‘em?”

You pause, unsure whether you should dignify that with a response.

“You want to use Halloween decorations?” you drop the wreath into the basket, rubbing a hand over your face in disbelief.

“I’m getting it” he puts the pumpkin next to your wreath.

You look down at the pumpkin and purse your lips. As if this party hasn’t been doomed from the get go, you don’t think having pumpkins there will help. You don’t have to voice your concerns, Negan can read your face. 

“Hey, I’m just offering a little direction,” he says, wandering down the aisle “someone’s gotta take charge when you’re doubting whether you should buy wreaths for a Christmas party”.

A flutter of defensiveness stirs within you, a shift in your chest that spreads like a warm yet  uncomfortable pressure.

Picking up a box of lights, you drop them in the basket “I’m not doubting, I just don’t want to buy junk that we won’t use”.

Negan stops, ignoring what you just said as he picks up some balloons. “We should get these… just gotta make sure this side is at the back” he lifts up the packet, showing you the gigantic ‘Happy 60th Birthday’ printing on the front of each balloon. 

“You’re kidding,” plucking the pack out of his hands, you put it back on the shelf “and I don’t need you to take charge of this, especially when you’re doing such a half assed job”. 

Negan scoffs “Am not”.

The more you try to ignore the building in your chest, the more it festers, growing into a quiet but insistent urge to clarify, to defend and correct the narrative.

“That’s all you do! You want to be in charge but you’re not thorough enough whenever you are” you explain as calmly as you can. 

There was a small bit of you that hoped Negan would listen to what you’re saying but he’s not interested in the feedback, waving his free hand dismissively as he walks back up the aisle.

“It’s easier when I’m in charge because I get shit done, I don’t try to reason with myself why I need to buy something– I just do it,” as if to prove the point, he puts another pumpkin into the basket.

It's like he’s not even trying to understand your point, and that’s a realization that makes your patience unravel.

The calm concern starts to fade and is replaced by a barely contained annoyance. 

“But you don’t try to make things easier for others, you literally just left Mark to deal with the rest of your classes for the day and complained at the idea of Mark letting Joey help! You’re always pushing your own agenda and railroading people into going along with it” taking a firm stance against him, you do the unthinkable. 

You reach your hand into the basket.

And remove a pumpkin.

Negan gives you a pointed look, boring into your skull and not even watching your hand place the pumpkin back on the shelf.

“Sweetheart, calm down, this isn’t a military operation,” he asserts “we’re just planning a damn party so lighten up. Get festive!”.

It’s maddening. Now you’re making a mountain out of a molehill? You should just lighten up because it’s a Christmas party and nothing more?

His dismissive tone is like a constant poke to your patience, stretching it thinner with every passing moment.  To make matters worse, Negan carries on like usual, wandering over to the next aisle.

Begrudgingly, you totter after him.

“You can’t just do that!” you snap, absentmindedly perusing the scented candles “you can’t act like this is something silly when I’m giving you valid criticism! I’m trying to put in effort here and actually make this party bearable”. 

It hits all at once, a rush of raw emotion that floods your mind and spills out before you can stop it.

Your voice shakes, not from fear, but from the overwhelming need to be heard. You don’t even have time to think, to carefully choose your words; it all comes out, unfiltered.

Every bit of irritation, confusion, and disbelief tumbling out in one breathless rant.  

“All you want to do is skip school, wander around here, flirt with me– even though I keep rejecting you! And just buy stupid shit that we don’t need for this party!” you rant, gesturing to the lonely pumpkin still in the basket.

“You have to respect other people’s time and their effort too. Not everyone wants to half-ass this! You get your own way all the time and no one will say no to you or make you do it their way. It’s Negan’s way or no way. And people are so used to letting you get away with shit again and again just because—“.

You stop yourself.

Your mouth clamps shut, stopping your cathartic rant before it can say anymore but it’s too late. Negan stands next to you, waiting.

Shit.

“… I like the cinnamon one,” you say quietly, trying to change the subject as you sniff the candles  “sometimes, I think they make the gingerbread ones too strong and the ones that are supposed to smell like vanilla never do”.

Negan doesn’t budge. A small smirk creeps up on his face. Negan already knows what you were going to say, he doesn’t need anyone to tell him.

He’s attractive, good in the sac, can charm the legs off anyone within a ten mile radius and happens to have one swoon worthy smile.

He gets away with this because he’s sexy. Nothing he can do about that, it’s natural!

“Go on,” he implores, tongue peeking out as he wets his bottom lip “say it with your chest, doll”.

You want to stay quiet. You know for the interest of everyone, you should. 

“People let you be an asshole because your wife died”.

You’ve never seen a change in someone so quick. His face darkens, veins pulsing at his temples as his jaw clenches so tight that his teeth almost grind together.

Negan’s eyes narrow into a hard, unforgiving stare. Every muscle in his body seems to coil, as if ready to snap. 

“Are you fucking shitting me?” he grunts. 

You’ve never seen him like this— not even when you’ve bickered with him. This is something different, something deeper.

His entire demeanor has shifted, like a switch was flipped, and all the previous irritation and taunting have been replaced by a quiet, seething fury that radiates from him in waves.

Your fingers curl around the candle but you barely register the sensation. Your eyes lock on him, wide and unblinking. He told you to say it, to be honest with him. 

Every muscle in your body feels frozen, as if something inside you has short-circuited. You’ve always thought you’d know what you’d do in a moment like this, whether you’d be a flight or fight type of person. But now, facing a full wave of intimidation, you realize the truth: you’re not the fight type. You’re not the flight type. 

You’re the freeze type.

It’s as if the air around you has thickened, the space between you and him narrowing to a suffocating stillness. You want to stutter out an apology but it’s all happened so suddenly that you forget how to. 

It feels like all you can do is stand there, rooted to the spot. In an instant, he snaps out of his silent rage and rushes into action. 

Without warning, Negan lets go of the shopping basket, letting it drop to the ground with a violent clatter. The sound cuts through the air like a gunshot and you jump.

His hands are still clenched into fists as he takes a step back and his eyes flash one last time at you with an unreadable mix of frustration and something deeper.  And then, he spins on his heel and storms off.

“Fuck this,” you hear muttered under his breath as he goes. 

You’re left standing there, the abruptness of it all taking the air from your lungs. Your legs take jittery steps forward before you meekly grab the basket and try to follow. 

With only a pumpkin, some lights and a wreath inside, the basket somehow pulls at your arms, as if you’re carrying a thousand things. Trying to follow, the basket swings awkwardly in your grasp, banging against your shins with each uncoordinated step.

“Negan?” You call out, your voice sounding smaller than you mean it to. Your gaze darts nervously from aisle to aisle and across the registers until you spot a tall and imposing shadow going out the main doors.

“No, no, no, no, no,” your heart thuds painfully against your chest, each beat louder than the last.

You set the basket down gently, almost afraid it might shatter if you move too quickly, before rushing out of the store. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s no relief. This can’t be happening. He can’t just leave you here. Not like this.

You move fast, almost stumbling, your eyes scanning the parking lot frantically. Cars of every make and model line the pavement, but there’s no sign of his truck.

A pang of panic rises in your throat as you take a few more steps, searching the sea of vehicles, your stomach tightening with every second that passes. His truck should be here. It should’ve been parked right where you left it.

The realization hits you like a wave. It’s not here.

A soft whine escapes your lips, barely a sound and yet it carries the weight of everything that’s suffocating you in that moment. Confusion. Anxiety. Guilt. And an overwhelming sense of abandonment. You stand frozen, the noise of the parking lot fading as the panic surges again. 

He’s gone.

-------

gif made from scenepack provided by harleys.scenes on insta <3

[sugarpasteltmnt]

I've been compleatly OBSSESED with neon void so far!!! It's by far my favorite fic of any I've read!! After every chapter I have to take a second to do the happy stimmies because you write all of the scenes so well. Whenever I see a new update I clear the next hour for reading it and the subsequent geek out sesion for how AMAZING it always is. You write extremely well, you convey the characters so acurately, the fight scenes are creative, the way you write Leo's perspective is AMAZING, love the font changes, the angst PALPABLE, and just over all I love everything you're able to do with this concept. The way you can see Leo's mental state deteriorating through out the fic is just *chefs kiss*. There's so much I love about the fic that I can't possibly list everything.

Also the established difference between teleporting and portaling is so great, it adds to the pure panic that void causes for the boys aside from, y'know, crazy dude capable of beating Big Mama within an inch of her life and STRAIGHT UP OFFING a buch of other yokai. It does wonders for establishing him as a threat even though he technically isn't for the turtles. Plus I'm sure that once they find out who Void really is, it will add a bunch of tension since they'll need to stop Leo from literally SCATTERING HIS ATOMS ACROSS SPACE.

AND THE CHAPTER PREVIEW ISTG I've never gotten so much serotonin from being in this much pain ;0; The gif is perfect to set the mood, I can't wait to see what happens. You're ablility to choose just the right thing to stab so many people directly through the heart is nothing short of super-natural. BUT PLEASE give the boi some happiness, if not for his sake, for mine-

ANYWAYS this is all a VERY long way of saying, I absolutely love this and I had to draw the silly boi being the silly boi. I needed to draw him happy for the health of my heart ;-; (don't worry though, I'm working on some tasty angst right now)

Can't wait to see where everything goes, GOOD LUCK TO CASEY but there only six chapters left so we're getting to the end game now >:D

Please have a wonderful rest of your week :D

THANK U SO MUCH ;w; I’m so so happy that my fight scenes are followable/enjoyable, and tho they are a binch to code I’m so happy you enjoy the funky fonts and formatting ;w; i know reading blocks of text can be intimidating/tiring for readers, so i try to break it up to help with the pacing and sprinkle in some fun, spooky fonts as treats 🩵

Something i really, REALLY loved about Rise was the fights. Not only was the animation amazing, but it was always so creative. I try my best to make the fight scenes as silly as the boys can be, while utilizing their adaptive skills to use their surroundings to their advantage.

And bruh trying to balance Leo’s insanity in a believable way has been such a (fun) challenge so it makes me so happy to hear you like it 😭🥺 and I’m so glad people seem to like the ‘teleportation’ gimmick I’ve got going on (and that it hopefully makes sense omg)

(And i will admit I’m a little proud of my chapter previews because they are so fun to write, and i like to reassure readers that 1) i have a plan and 2) I’m keeping myself accountable to finish LOL)

Also aksdlaskdhaksdh thank u for this art this part especially is SENDING ME WHEEZE 🤣🩵❗️

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Screenshot from that moment of "Nowhere is safe if it's with you." Which pairs with this chapter having his anxiety around thinking Megs wants to kick his aft really peaks. Also Megatrons confused friggin face in response.

The nature of this chapter is quite funky. A lot of it has interior meaning where you can't always take things at face value. It has some wholesomeness that rapidly devolves into sussy bs. Might even get a glimpse of the lingering antagonist of this theoretical season, who knows. Also a smidge of the background human drama the other bots are dealing with.

Previous Chapter: Family Feud

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Obligation

Chapter 12: Make or Break

“Just stay where I can see you, alright? The kids and I are gonna be doing some training over there.” Bumblebee gestured back towards a clearing littered with crates, what looked like dehydrated cylinders of some type of shredded flora, and an assortment of tires; which seemed to be arranged in some sort of obstacle course. 

Starscream ducked out of the barn, keeping a close optic on the bug’s movements while stealing a glance at his surroundings. Upon gaining full access to the outdoors again, distancing himself from the structure, he fully flexed his wings and stretched. The stifling atmosphere of underground constructions was something he could do without.

Bumblebee shot a digit up to point at him with squinted optics, “Don’t you think I’ll be too distracted to notice you trying anything.”

An extremely weak attempt at a threat. The scout did not possess optics on the back of his helm. There was no way he could possibly watch Starscream every nano-klik while surrounded by sparklings. 

Starscream rolled his optics and put his servos on his hips, then leaned down at face level to the bug with a smirk. “I would never dare assume such a thing.”

Bumblebee shoved Starscream’s faceplate away with a roll of his entire helm as he turned and scoffed, “Yeah, like I believe that, con man.”

“Tsk, you wound me.” Starscream crooned. Primus how he missed banter like this. The scout could be insufferable, but at least he was entertaining. 

“Uh-huh. Just stay out of trouble will ya? I can’t be attached to your ped 24/7. ‘Sides, that’s what Wheeljack’s little thing ya got is for.” Bumblebee gave his own challenging grin with a gesture down at Starscream's ped accessory. Whether the statement was purely meant as a play on words, or actually held some sort of double meaning towards the device’s functioning, was difficult to determine.

“Hm, what could I possibly do…” Starscream tapped his chin in mock contemplation. “That tank of propane looks promising. Perhaps I could see how sturdy its containment is–right next to the human’s little residence.”

“Primus Starscream. You’d better not be that stupid.” Bumblebee turned to leave him be with a toss of his servo.

“I was obviously joking.” Starscream crossed his arms and his wings tipped down in a twinge of annoyance. The scout should be better at picking up sarcasm than that. It was actually rather disappointing. He paced closer to the edge of the fence as he watched Bumblebee meet with the others. Surely an examination of the perimeter would be permissible. 

Starscream took his time exploring every centihic of the surrounding area within view of the bug. He didn’t need them accusing him if that blasted tank did decide to spontaneously combust. They were surrounded by an extended range of stalky perennials, with one road leading away from the residence, and a train track over the slight hill. The humans were cultivating an odd array of fuel, one variety sprouting from a particular species of those stalky perennials, while simultaneously managing a herd of lower class organic creatures. 

He knelt by the fence containing them, and one stared at him. Starscream stared back. It looked stupid, and broke focus to gnaw on the ground dully. What purpose could these things serve? Would they not only become a resource garbage chute? Although he supposed some creatures he had studied in the past did refuel by consuming other beings. Perhaps instead of hunting, the humans decided to imprison them. A disgusting disrespect to the natural order of their planet’s formation. 

A part of him felt sorry for the beast. It clearly knew nothing larger than this pitiful block of land. Nothing of what fate could befall it, or what life it could lead outside of its walls. Only living in complacent ignorance. 

Starscream carefully reached over and picked it up, intent on freeing it from its cage. Surely those humans wouldn’t miss one or two of these things. Unfortunately, the creature’s liberation was thwarted by that damn bug barking at him.

“Leave the cow alone, Screamer!” Bumblebee called from across the field. When Starscream paused with the cow hovering in the air giving weak little kicks, the scout pointed a digit and dropped his tone to be more stern. “Drop it. Find something better to do than terrorizing cows.”

Starscream growled out a sigh as he lowered the beast back into its cell. He gestured flatly at it to the bug with half lidded, annoyed optics. Of course the Autobots would be opposed to a bit of minuscule revolution. Yet another example of those bot’s hypocrisy as they preach their ever expansive empathy. The cow ran off as if it too disapproved. It clearly didn’t know any better. 

Since apparently fraternizing with the present wildlife was in the forbidden category, Starscream opted to redirect his focus to scouting out the possible escape routes. The road could be a useful means of keeping track of his position if he were to follow it, but that’s exactly the trail the Autobots would take. He rounded the edge of the forest to hover on the hill overseeing the train tracks. He might be able to discreetly hitch a ride on one of those, which would grant him a good deal of distance. As well as make it difficult for them to determine at what point he got off. 

Starscream glanced back at the bug, and leaned casually against one of those stalky perennials surrounding the place. That rudimentary obstacle course seemed to be entertaining the children well enough, although he wouldn’t be so bold as to call it “training”. Bumblebee only seemed to be giving them useless words of encouragement or soft sparked notes on their performance. They must be preparing for some other ridiculous game inspired by their human companions. Nothing about whatever it was they’d cobbled together would prepare them for a war. It was a wonder the children turned out as well as they did. 

Suddenly, he heard heavy propellers shake his audials. He turned his attention to the sky to see Megatron lowering in front of the Malto’s primary residence. Starscream’s optics narrowed, before widening in alarm. Why was that slagger here? Of course he was! Starscream knew it was only a matter of time. It was a miracle the buckethead hadn’t slagged him to the Pit the first day! Perhaps he’d simply wanted to wait until a sufficient amount of time had passed since his previous injuries…

When Megatron landed, Dorothy exited his hull before he transformed back into a mech, yet remained knelt before his little agent. Scrap. What could she be reporting to him? Starscream doubted anything good. It was never anything good. Sure, he hadn’t exactly done anything catastrophic yet, recently…but that hardly ever seemed to matter. 

Starscream fumbled against the branches of those blasted overgrown twigs as his peds began backing him into them. His focus was locked on the warlord, even as he made a painfully sharp in-vent from his clumsiness. Then their optics met.

And he ran.

***

Meetings with those entitled, over blown human executives was always like grinding his processor through a compactor. Megatron was more than happy to let Optimus do all the suck up business. Having Dorothy by his side through it all was truly the only reason he was able to stay sane, and somewhat hopeful as he kept the terrans in mind. 

Of course the human government would have questions about what happened with G.H.O.S.T., or the trouble with the Quintessons. But hadn’t Schloder already explained it all? Instead, after all this time, there still was that ever lingering distrust towards cybertronians. With apparently some conspiracy around them aiming to usurp the human’s government spreading around their internet. It really will never change, will it? At most, he could hope that such allegations will never fall upon the kids’ shoulders…

“They’re just uptight big shots that are insecure about their ranks, don’t let ‘em get under your plating Megs.” Dorothy advised from within his hull as they were making the flight back to her home. 

Megatron growled out a sigh as he tried to shake his lingering rage at the ordeal. “Regardless, it does not give them the right to threaten eviction from our base over their baseless accusations.”

“I know. But we won’t let it get that far. Agent Schloder and I have been working on constructing a better organization that will be what G.H.O.S.T was supposed to. If we all work together as a team this time around, I’m sure it’ll be better.”

“Only time will tell, I suppose. I will give you my confidence, Dorothy, even if I cannot be as optimistic as Optimus.”

Dorothy scoffed a laugh, “I’d never expect you to be, Megs. No one can beat that bot’s ridiculous sense of delegation. He just wants to baby talk and social media his way through this biz and that just ain’t gonna cut it. We get that. But y’know, our two sides of dealing with this mess also complement one another.”

“Ah yes, teamwork. Heh.”

Dorothy knocked on the interior metal beside her affectionately, “You know it! We gotta hit ‘em from all sides! Give ‘em no way of gettin’ the jump on us with their dumb wall of red string they’re tryna wrap us up in.”

Megatron chuckled at her enthusiasm. It was often quite infectious. “I did always enjoy a good crushing tactic of the sort. If they think they will be the ones backing us against a wall, they’ll be sorely mistaken.” They reached their destination and he made certain to avoid the other vehicles in the driveway as he landed. He opened the hatch to let her out, then switched out of his alt mode with a servo set on his knee. 

Dorothy patted his ped reassuringly, “Exactly. Now all we have to worry about is a certain con stirring up more trouble for us to clean up.”

Megatron’s expression fell. “Starscream. Has he behaved himself this past week?”

Dorothy shrugged with crossed arms, and looked unsure. “Decently enough. He actually seems to be…trying, in his own way. Although he did get a bit heated over Uno.” She dropped her arms again with a slight shake of her head and an amused grin. “I can’t exactly blame him for that–” she straightened to a more serious tone again and held a digit in the air firmly– “but he did grab Bee, which worried us for a moment before he let go. I definitely see what you were talking about with those strange surges. It’s difficult to determine what exactly triggers them. The kids said he had one the first day just out of the blue, and he blamed Bee for it, but they weren’t sure what he’d even done. Then there was another moment during Pictionary when he’d said “Transformers”...” She shuddered. “It was weird, Megs. I don’t know a better way of describing it. Like, it wasn’t exactly his voice for a moment, and he looked all disconnected or something… It doesn’t seem like it’s just tied to his anger. It makes me uneasy not knowing what is going on with whatever that is… But. Still. I’m sure we can handle it.”

Megatron paused for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. You are wise to be wary. We can’t be sure what exactly happened when he linked himself with the corrupted Emberstone, or what happened all that time while he was in the Titan. Unfortunately, I do not imagine he would take the prospect of testing well. So it seems the best we can do is keep him under control and monitor the surges. I trust you will continue to keep me updated. Remember, I am only a comm away.”

Dorothy smiled more genuinely up at him as he slowly rose to his full height, “Yes, yes, I know. I’ll keep in touch.”

Megatron smiled thankfully back at her, until his focus became distracted by the feeling that someone was watching him. His gaze drifted towards Bumblebee and the kids, before locking onto Starscream, who was standing just on the edge of the forest on the hill. Upon making optic contact, the seeker abruptly jerked backwards and darted into the woods like one of those skittish deer creatures at the sight of a predator. Quite a dramatic reaction. Megatron’s optics narrowed and he began walking towards where his former second had fled.

Dorothy followed his gaze and asked, “What is it?”

“Starscream ran off into the woods, alone. I will go after him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t have any plans of escaping, or whatever it is he’s thinking he’ll accomplish by simply running off like that.”

Dorothy put a servo to her hip. “Hm. Alright, be careful then.”

Megatron scoffed, “Careful? I know how to deal with him. I doubt even with this new power that he could be that much trouble for me to handle.”

Bumblebee noticed Megatron approaching them, then looked behind him and noticed the seeker’s absence as well, looking startled. He assured the kids not to worry and ran over to meet Megatron near where Starscream had vanished. “I assume you got this one? Or we could–”

“I’ll handle it.” 

“Ookay…” Bumblebee backed off, “Gotcha. Have fun kicking his aft solo.”

Megatron lowered his optical ridges at that comment, and gave the scout a momentary glare. Bumblebee only shrugged and made his way back to the terrans. Megatron wasn’t entirely sure why the statement bothered him. After all, it did often become necessary to use force when it came to the seeker. Yet this time, he actually had the initial thought that he’d only accompany Starscream to serve as a chaperone. Optimus had wanted him to get more of those nature walks the Prime loved so much, anyway. It only bothered Megatron that Starscream would be unsupervised. A show of firepower wouldn’t be necessary, unless the flighty mech decided to make it so.

Megatron tapped into his Decepticon coding channel to pinpoint Starscream’s tracking signal. As he made his way through the trees, he attempted to be careful, but the damn things were always far too close together. Stealth was never his forte, which seldom mattered, although it did make it inconvenient at the moment as he had to catch a second tree from shattering another. He needed to be swift to catch Starscream, yet the clever bastard picked just the terran to slow him down.

Once he found a sufficient enough clearing to transform, he took to the sky. With Starscream’s own wings clipped, Megatron could easily cut him off from the air. Once he was right on top of the signal, he boosted a few hics ahead before transforming mid-air to land heavily in front of the seeker. Crushing yet another of those twigs in the process, perhaps he should get some training navigating these things some time…

Starscream, well, screamed. An annoyingly shrill shriek that would never cease to irk Megatron’s audials no matter how many times he heard it. His former second raised his arm that typically held his null ray reactively as well. It was absurd that he still had the instinct to do such a thing. He knew null rays were ineffective against Megatron’s plating, yet always tried uselessly regardless. It was almost amusing, if it wasn’t equally pathetic to see the panic on the seeker’s faceplate upon the recognition that he was disarmed. Then he only stared silently as if he were frozen on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Megatron inquired flatly, although with genuine curiosity. He moved his canon clad servo vaguely at him, which caused Starscream’s optics to shoot between his and the weapon.

Starscream still didn’t speak. For being so loud at the start, he always loved to shut up at the most aggravating times. It was a simple question. What could have possibly caused him to react so ridiculously? Megatron’s fusion cannon clearly wasn’t aimed in any threatening manner. 

Megatron rolled his optics as the lingering frustration of the day's events seeped into his posture, and he took a step forward that shook the earth beneath his ped. “I am not talking in riddles, Starscream. Answer me.”

A minor surge started as red lightning began flicking from the seeker’s frame, although his optics seemed to fight the crimson force. Starscream stood and stumbled against the tree behind him as he tried to back away. “Stay ba-AAH!” The bark broke and sent him falling back in tandem with the log.

Megatron’s optics narrowed. He continued to advance despite Starscream’s demand, and reached down to pull him up from the bush. All he got was a rude smack across the servo with a buzz saw.

***

Starscream was running as fast as he possibly could. Although still made note to avoid leaving obvious evidence of his direction, also tossing broken twigs in an attempt to create a false trail. Even as he tried to retain some form of his tactical processor, he couldn’t think of anything else beside his need to move. Memories and predictions were rapidly flashing through his optics. He tripped over a scraggly lump of flora and cursed as he scrambled to his peds again to continue forward.

It would be far easier to gain ground if he didn’t have that blasted device locked to his ped! If he tried to fly away with only his thrusters, he’d be quickly spotted and not nearly aerodynamic enough to properly maneuver out of the way of incoming fire. Starscream didn’t have the time to try and pry the damn thing off. So apparently, the best he could do was dodge through the terrain and hope by some mercy of Primus that he’d be granted some luck for once.

He was easily still skilled enough to sleekly slip past any obstacle. He’d fold his wings back, down, or flare them out to narrow himself at his side. He might not be as nimble as Skywarp, but he had arguably more experience with such things. His processor was on overdrive as his vents struggled to keep up with him. Starscream’s focus was so tunnel visioned on the path ahead that he couldn’t take a single nano-klik to consider anything else besides what laid before him. 

Megatron was surely after him. He had to be. Bumblebee would be angry with him. That won’t matter. He could live with that. If he managed to live at all if he got caught.

He wouldn’t. It’d be fine. Starscream is far faster than Megatron’s ever been. He just needed to not stop. Keep running. Dodge the branch, jump the next rock, slide between the next choke point. He’d get somewhere eventually. As long as it was far away from Megatron.

He heard those blasted propellers again from the buckethead’s stupid earth alt mode. No. He couldn’t possibly have found him already. There was no way he knew what his position was as the tops of the larger perennials shielded him from aerial view. Right? Starscream just needed to be quiet, not shake any of the brush to alert his pursuer. Speed wouldn’t matter anymore with that slagger hovering over him.

Yet even as he’d been carefully stepping through the branches with such precision that not even his joints dared make a sound–Megatron shot down from the sky so violently that his peds vertically crushed one of the perennials that’d dared to stand in his way. The force of the warlord’s descent knocked Starscream backwards with a rather indignant yelp. His helm hit against the stalky twig behind him and his optics shuttered. Without thinking, he attempted to blast the offending mech, but of course his null ray had been confiscated. It’d only been meant to serve as a warning shot–but he couldn’t even focus enough to see if his other blasters were operational. None of it would do anything against Megatron, anyway. 

Megatron demanded something of him with a nod of his fusion cannon that made Starscream squirm, despite feeling as if he was in stasis lock. Was he going to shoot? Did he want him to get up? Starscream couldn’t take his optics off the cannon, and barely recognized that he had brought his servo up defensively in anticipation of an attack.

Megatron spoke again in his booming vocalizer that wrenched Starscream from his frozen state, as the two words “Answer me” came in far too clearly like a dagger through his audials. The order was horrifically pared by the thud of the warlord’s advance towards him. Starscream in-vented sharply, and tried frantically to back away as his vision glitched. “S-stay ba-AAH!” The stupid twig betrayed him, and left him crumpled in a painfully precarious position before Megatron, as the buckethead of course disregarded his statement. Why would what Starscream wanted ever matter? His wings and servos shook as the corrupted power grew and burned like an unstable reaction ready to burst from his cockpit.

Megatron was looming over him so that his shadow could further pin Starscream against the foliage. Then, a servo began reaching for him, and he felt as if his spark was trying to leave him too. Starscream transformed out his buzz saw and wacked it across the offending digits. He scrambled backwards with rapid kicks of his peds as he waved his weapon threateningly. “Stay back!” He reiterated firmly with a wretched squeak to his vocalizer. 

Megatron’s fist clenched and he took another step closer. “I’m trying to help you. Is it that difficult to take my servo you stubborn fool?”

Help?? That was the most obvious lie the mech has ever allowed to leave his intake. Starscream may be stubborn, but he was certainly not foolish enough to brazenly surrender his servo to an enemy. If that even was Megatron’s intention. The brute would surely drag Starscream from the ground by an arm or wing before any such softer gesture would cross his processor. 

Starscream glared and revved his saw as a warning. He refused to take his optics off of Megatron, using his other servo to stabilize himself on a nearby rock as he stood. The crimson power invaded his transformed servo, and sped its function to an uncomfortable level as it began launching lightning toward the buckethead. Alright then. It actually seemed to make Megatron stumble as it connected with his frame. Maybe it could be useful this time.

“Why must you always make things so difficult?” Megatron charged his cannon and fired a pinpointed blast straight at Starscream’s overcharged blade in response. 

His saw was left to be slung across the ground in a crumpled lump of slag as he struggled to transform back out his servo. Sparks sputtered from his damaged limb, and he hit his working servo against it uselessly. Scrap! Well…perhaps he could still use it like some fragged up blaster with the chaos power still active. 

Starscream aimed and shot a more concentrated, charged blast that made Megatron stumbled backwards. “I am not the one making it difficult!” He yelled and focused his attack on the fusion cannon as the mech attempted to pull it up for another shot. “All you have to do is leave me alone! I am not staying here for whatever twisted purpose you have planned!”

“What??” Megatron actually sounded outright thrown by this as he held his arms crossed to block the volley of fire. “What are you going on about?!”

“Don’t feign ignorance with me Megatron! What is it you want from me now?! You were never satisfied when I was your second in command, it never mattered what I did! Whether I did everything you asked, or challenged you, it was the same. Now, you still are seeking to make me into whatever slagged up puppet you have in your processor! So WHAT IS IT?!” The power rose and the device on his ped made him stumble as it disrupted his motor functions. “Why else would you keep me online now?!”

“I only wish for you to be better.” Megatron urged earnestly as he knocked away another blast and attempted to get closer.

“BETTER?!” Starscream shrieked, then began to laugh maniacally. “Oh yes, THANK YOU for that clarification! That explains everything! Except the fact that nothing I do or ever did will manage to meet your standards. What are they this time? What could I POSSIBLY become for it to be enough for you?!”

The corrupted power felt like it was scorching his interior components as it increased in strength to a point that the next blast nearly made Megatron fall over. He couldn’t turn it off. He just needed Megatron to be gone. His stabilizing servos were just about useless as the device sent another pulse through his frame, but he managed to force himself somewhat upright against the rock. His vision was now fully glazed in red light and his optics burned. 

His aim began to suffer until Meridian’s disgusting voice swam through his processor. “Shoot him. You want that wretched mech purged from the Earth just as much as I, don’t you?” Those last, crooning words strung static through his servos like a magnet pulling them into action.

Starscream’s optic twitched, but he couldn’t bring himself to shake his dizzied helm. He growled and his wings flicked back as his chassis forcefully straightened itself again. Why did that fragging human continue to plague his processor? Starscream didn’t need that pest telling him what to do.

Megatron actually dodged the next shot that came his way, “Can we not just talk without the theatrics?! Perhaps I could–” Then he blocked the next, and planted his peds which slid backwards with a cut across the dirt from the force– “Ugh, I suppose I don’t have an answer that would be–” Another strike– “satisfying. But right–” Again– “now I just want you to be able to work with us, instead of–” Again– “continuing to cause more–” And again– “trouble for yourself.”

“I suppose you think it is all my fault as usual.” Starscream ground out the statement with considerable effort.

Meridian added his own pathetic opinion oh so helpfully. “All you Transformers know how to do is destroy everything around you. You really think any of you are capable of doing anything less? Relationships are far too human for you.”

“Oh shut up–”

“Just shoot. It’s what you’re made for after all.”

“No one asked you.” Yet Starscream couldn’t stop himself from doing just that. 

Megatron had apparently acquired a meager shield from a shard of the fallen perennial. “All you need to do is stop fighting me! You may have the right to place blame upon me, just as the others did. But this petty bitterness for whatever I did to make you feel this way, does nothing to help us now.” 

Starscream’s attention snapped back towards the buckethead as his optics attempted to focus on his shadowed silhouette. Oh slag. Not again. 

His faceplate twisted into a sick grin, “Oh I think it’s doing wonders, actually! You can’t even get close!” The chaotic force shot more energy into where his servo should be and blasted forth an intense, continuous laser that shattered Megatron’s twiggish defenses. Starscream distantly heard himself laugh. “Look at how the mighty Lord Megatron cowers before the lowly Starscream! Even as your pathetic device attempts to disable me! How does it feel to be the powerless one?! The day I stop fighting you, is the day I go offline–but you’d rather keep me around as your functioning punching bag!”

Megatron maneuvered out of the line of fire, his plating scorched and dented. When Starscream realigned his aim, he shot his fusion cannon in a counter attack. The two forces colliding erupted into a violent explosion, with an equally intense recoil.  

Starscream’s helm was now against the dirt and his optics were struggling to clear the white that continued to blind him. His arm wasn’t responding to him anymore to resume an attack. His audials were ringing. His spark burned. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore.

Although some part of his processor must have, as he was saying something else to Megatron as the buckethead added some slag of his own. Starscream's spare servo moved, and he assumed he’d used it to do…something. He had to. He couldn’t let Megatron win. But slagger always did. 

There was a lapse in time as Starscream felt numb, despite the fact that he was still moving, if a bit clumsily. He’d continue to squabble with the mech, until a final surge encouraged the device on his ped to release its final EMP that knocked him out. Why had it only finally managed to do so now? What had happened? Shouldn’t it have done that during…

He couldn’t remember. 

It did do something before, didn’t it? He was sure it did. 

This must be the fault of Quintus’ slagging curse. And Megatron for showing his stupid fragging faceplate in the first place. Why couldn’t he do anything without that glitch looming over him? He should have played it off better. He’d forgotten the foolish mech was attempting to be some sort of twisted Autobot. He should have played into that. Not run off without a plan.

Why had he thought Megatron was there to destroy him again? The fool had spoken against violence as a means of solving one’s problems in favor of his newly branded superiority complex–ah but he supposed he knew such a promise couldn’t be trusted. That must have been it. 

But he still couldn’t quite remember…

[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

Take You to a Better Place: Floyd x reader Chapter 1

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝ ╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

The girls and you were a brand new band coming out . Band name was going to be Sugar,Spice and Everything Thrice with you girls as the main girls in the band. Violet, Parsley, and (Y/N) that’s all who is in the band. Anyway , yall are at Brozones concert watching it to see the new competition. You watch your competition start their performance. (I’m going to assume that velvet and veneer in the movie are 16 so you will meet them as young kids like 10 years old)

(I found a video on TikTok of this part so I wanna show)

You and your band had gotten front row seats to Brozone concert. Your manager wanted you to see your new competition and to scope them out. They boys get on stage and start singing their song "Perfect". You noticed that Violet seemed to be into the lead singer JD by how she was eyeing him.  Parsley seemed to be eyeing the guy who is the fun one but you just roll your eyes at them eye looking at some boys. This was the competition. Even if you did like how the pink haired one looked and sounded. This is your career you won't jeopardize it.  Suddenly it looked like the leader JD was going off from their original choreography and they seemed to look all nervous to you. Suddenly they fall from the tower and the huge disaster happens on the stage.

You gasp in shock. Definitely not expecting that to happen. You and your girl band were shocked to say the least. Brozone ran backstage and y'alls manager decided that this was the perfect time to introduce yall together.  You distracted the audience who were upset cause of Brozone leaving.

After the concert, it seems your band has gotten extremely popular. Next day when your album was released, you sold out. You were on magazine covers and everything. Violet was the band leader and the pretty one. Parsley was the exciting and adventurous one. You were the cute and calm one who had the sweetest smile. No matter where y’all went , people recognized and asked for autographs. You were polite and always willing to take pictures.

Brozone was all over the papers the next day. They broke up. Tons of fans crying in sadness that their favorite boy band disbanded. But that just left your girl group to fill the gap. You traveled all over the trolls world, you dabbled in all types of musics to appease every troll. You had rock songs and pop songs and country songs and funky songs. Y’all even added some classical to some songs. Y’all were known far and wide and loved by many because you appealed to all music lovers.

For the next several years , y’all were on top. You won awards and had an awesome fan base . But after 8 years of making songs together, Violet wanted a solo career. She said we were too old to be in a girl group anymore. That we are in our 20s and we need to go out and make a name for ourselves but she meant herself.

Violet: “Look it’s just a “girl thing”. We knew we wouldn’t last forever. We are no “babes in toy land” and we won’t be young forever. So, “girlfriend”, I’m going solo. We used to be “the chicks” but it’s time for me to “xscape” and make a name for myself. Y/N and Parsley, all yall need is some “TLC” and I’m sure you “spice girls” will be fine. It’s time for me to “go-go.” Bye girls.

Then she up and left. You havent seen her or parsley since. Not knowing what to do next you head to Mount Rageous to find work as a music artist. This is where things get bumpy.

Dang. I haven’t wrote a chapter story since before September last year. I am so sorry yall. I hope you liked this. Love you my darlings

Part 2

[glitcheslikeslego]

Show Me Your Moves! (Chapter 17)

AO3 STORY

Chapter 17 : Eerie Impulse

Eerie Impulse is a non-damaging move that lowers the opponent's Special Attack stat by 2 stages.

You sat in the back of the group, staring nervously at the blank staring “Mayor” that smiled ominously.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you entered Pigsy’s restaurant. Seeing the makeshift stage with a podium, you asked what the occasion was, and when Pigsy told you that the Mayor was coming to thank MK for all he’s done, you felt your heart stop.

It’s beginning…

So now, here you are, arms crossed and legs bouncing as the Mayor made his way through his speech, obviously trying to restrain himself from going absolutely feral about the Lady Bone Demon.

The name sent a feeling of dread into your heart, and you swore that the Mayor was specifically smirking at you in particular, with that same weird interest the Spider Queen gave you.

“Thank you for this amazing turnout!” The Mayor declared to the small group, and while everyone was content and excited for MK, you were still waiting for everything to go wrong.

Everything went on as normal, with Mei and MK being excited as the Mayor handed him the key to the city and explained how it could be used to open anything, like an imprisoned mystic power source.

You watched the Mayor warily as he shot you one last intrigued look before disappearing.

MK and Mei hyped over the creepy looking key, with the skull symbol and the strange prongs that could change to fit into any lock. You went to warn them about the dangers of such a funky looking key, but they were out the door before you could even take a breath to speak. 

You took a deep breath and knocked your head into the table, startling Tang, who looked at you worriedly. “Are you okay?”

You laid motionless for a bit before slowly raising your head up to face him. You looked worried. “That key thing looks like bad news.” You exclaimed. 

Tang thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, that skull looked quite foreboding.”

“You have no idea…” you muttered, making the human look at you in confusion. Instead of elaborating further, you got up and left, deciding to head to work instead of taking the half-day off Sandy kindly gave you. 

You need to get your mind off of what’s to happen next. 

•

•

•

Turns out, it went just as bad in canon, if not worse. 

How did it get worse?

After your shift, you decide to turn on the tv to watch the news as you are to see if anything of interest happened, and well… It was interesting to say the least. 

Red Son destroyed MK’s apartment and he and Mei end up in a chase with MK following after them, just for PIF to show up and duke it out for the key…

…destroying more of the city in the process. 

Last time there was minimal damage, but this time, the big fight where PIF and Red Son won looked like a tornado had hit it, and that kind of fits with how many whirlwinds PIF kept conjuring up. 

And as if you weren’t tired enough, there was a knock at the door. You groaned and put your food down then opened the door…

It was MK and Mei. 

Because OF COURSE it was…

The two immediately hugged you and began babbling about how the key went missing and that the bull family has it now and who knows what sort of villainy they’ll get up to with it.

You just facepalm. 

Today was just not your day…

“Listen.” You started, making the two quiet down. “We can deal with this another day. Whatever the bull family throws at us with whatever they’re using that key for, you guys can stop them, like you always do.”

Of course, this managed to calm them down immensely, and you sensed that they missed the undertone of foresight you had just given them. 

Because they will stop her. 

You shouldn’t be so worried. 

Why are you so worried, mortal?

~~~

<PREV ~ NEXT>

[zombiee-reviews]

Keirr character discussion / breakdown

• The egotistical prick • The Aira hater • The deciever

- Quick author note: I’m going to be doing something slightly different, where I basically read the scenes that involved Keirr and leave a tag afterwords of pages I am going over. This will at least give you opportunity to read along with me and understand my breakdowns a little better.

- Another note: I am always using the Tumblr mobile app, so I apologize if my documents look rather funky on the computer version. I am trying to spruce them up and make them look at least somewhat good lol.

- Final note: I will be going over “Asmundr” Keirr, only a little bit though, mainly for his background. Other than that, I am focusing on “Home” Keirr. Now let’s get into it!

-

What I will be going over:

- What we know of Keirr’s history

- How he suddenly went from sweet and family oriented. Then turned into an egotistical jerk off, who stopped prioritizing family.

- A little on his personality

-

- Early History

In Keirrs early history, we know that he was born around the middle of Kiques 1st comic, Asmundr. And let me tell you, this fool has changed designs like.. 5 different times.

Ahem, anyway. Keirr is shown as the more “mature” one, compared to Rhov. In Asmundr, it is shown that he is a “decent” hunter, while him and his brother work on deer hides. He is even more reasonably suspicious than Rhov, when Jahla enters the scene and tackles Rhovanion.

When the war between Ranulfr and the Asmundr pack hit, Keirr was pretty useful and followed instructions well. Near the end of the war, you could tell he was tired of having to kill the Shield wolves, but he continued to kill. And really, that about sums up Keirrs story in Asmundr. Obviously, the first comic wasn’t about the offspring, like Home is. So I can’t really follow up with much, in “Asmundr” Keirr.

-

- Read along breakdown:

Now, we’ll be going over “Home” Keirr.

Two years had passed since “Asmundr”, so I feel the rest of this information does not qualify for Keirrs early history section.

Too begin.. Keirr and his family are dropped off on Aedra, they are not given a time limit of how long this lasts. All they know is, father will return at some point. Until then, they all make do and continue with their lives.

Keirr is still shown to be the more mature / family oriented guy. As everyone else decides to explore Aedra and see what they can find, Keirr decides to stay back with the Asmundr pack. Keirr at least retains his personality, for now, from Asmundr.( Page 8. Can also be seen on page 104. )

Then came the time when Zilas died, Keirr was the one to discover him first. Of course, he took it pretty hard considering that he grew up with Zilas and saw him as a brother. Of course, a lot of those crucial bonding moments us readers need are shown “off-screen”. It was never truly shown how close Keirr and Zilas were. ( Page 127 - 128 )

Fast forward to the time he discovered Aira, this is when things get juicy. For a while, Keirr was not Kiques priority and he did not make a real, solid appearance for a few chapters, up until page 138. This is when Kique decides Keirr needs a fucked up “Home” style arc next.

Keirr is seen carrying a torch, probably out mourning his loss I’d imagine.. Otherwise, idk why tf he is out late, or seen / helping anyone bury Zilas? This was the time when night beasts were a thing. Anyway! He is caught off guard by a voice, who comes from Aira, hiding. Keirr still retains his suspicious behavior, like in Asmundr and asks her to come closer, for the fire he is carrying. To his surprise, he is greeted with a badly wounded dog. Reasonably, he asks Aira if she was attacked by a feline, probably trying to see if she is the reason Zilas is dead. Quickly, his suspicions are cleared and he offers her help. ( Page 138 - 139 )

Suddenly, in video game reloading fashion, Keirr spawns at camp with Rhov and Jahla. Where the hell did Aira go? Anyway, I like that Keirr called out Rhov and Jahla for trying to throw blame around on anyone they could, for Zilas’s death. And then looking down at them, like a disappointed father. Thankfully, he is still retaining his personality at this point. I have to say though, it is interesting that Keirr decides to care for Aira alone and not bring her back to the Asmundr pack. Knowing his suspicious behavior, this might have been the better option for him. ( Page 140 - 141 )

We are then shown Keirr and Aira at her den. Keirr is definitely shown as more able bodied than Aira and attempts to help her up, when he realizes she can’t make it up on her own. His so far suspicious behavior remains intact, when he realizes her den has an odd amount of space for one dog; especially one of her size. He even tries to wiggle in some questions for her, but to no avail. He leaves Aira with supplies and is even kind enough to give her a knife and hide a hare nearby for her. ( Page 151 - 152 )

A few hours had passed, seemingly it looks like Aira tracked Keirr down and sat down with him. Keirr then opens up a little bit about Zilas and his family. The odd part for me is that, he is shown to be a family oriented guy, you’d imagine he’d want to mourn with his family? But I suppose he would rather want to mourn alone, for some odd reason. Kique tends to do a lot of important things “off-screen.” Anyway, instead of going back to his family, he chooses to mourn with a stranger. Which to me is slightly out of character of him. ( Page 160 - 161 )

A day or so later passes and suddenly Keirr is an expert in physical therapy. This scene from him looks promising, until he joins up with Whispervale. More on that later. Keirr helps Aira jump over a log and help regain her mobility. Then he decides it’s time to go back to his family, in the middle of such a primary moment? Aira then runs up and kisses him to stop him from leaving. Then he subtly gloats at her about how he is her “only chance of survival”, I mean what a nice thing to say lol. I feel this is when Keirr starts acting out of character, but it isn’t super noticeable yet. I’m also not quite sure why he said she couldn’t join the pack, Kainan would have saw no problem with it? Then he contradicts himself by saying he’ll continue taking care of her, but can’t leave his family to care for a stranger, all in the same breath? What? lol. ( Page 197 - 199 )

Keirr then finally discovers that the Asmundr pack is no longer there. Also, it’s kind of funny how it foreshadows the reindeer being dead in the fourth panel, but magically they’re still alive when Ronja gives them to the Deer humpers. Not only this, but it’s way too soon for the Reindeer to leave behind bones? Or why didn’t Keirr notice them while he visited the territory? Another plot hole lol. ( Page 226 )

Then Keirr suddenly decides he wants to go back to Aira, even after being a subtle dick to her. He notices that she is no longer in the vicinity and begins looking for her instead. Contradicting himself again, because he just told her he wouldn’t leave his family for a stranger. So why does he choose to go after Aira instead and not start looking for his family? Hm. ( Page 235 )

At least Keirr was nice enough to go searching for her.. But he comes across her re-possessing herself with the monster she was previously. Aira explains that she can’t survive without it. Keirr added salt to that wound by saying previously, he was her only chance of survival and then dipping out on her. Reasonably though, Keirr stops her from completing the ritual. Once he is able to pull her away from the spirit, he comforts her and makes sure to tell her that he is here for her. Boy what a damn 180 that happens in the future! Keirr then discovers Aira’s background and what she use to be, they share a tender moment together and then apologize for their previous actions. ( Probably the one and only time you’ll see that in this comic. ) Then Keirr suddenly decides she can join the pack, because it was always an option, Keirr was just being a dick. And with that, Keirr invites her to look for his family with him. Aira is able to offer some advice, as she has previously traveled the entire island in her beast form. ( Page 267 - 276 )

Here comes the total 180 of Keirr, when Aira shows him the way to Whispervale. Suddenly Keirr spouts out “We should ask them to join their pack!” Wtf?? Even Aira asks him why, just ask them if they have seen his family. Then for some reason Keirr wants to use Whispervale for their resources before continuing, but in the same breath wants to join their Tribe? None of what he just said to Aira made sense to me. Obviously Aira is uncomfortable, but Keirr doesn’t give a shit lol. Once Whispervale approaches them, Keirr asks if they can join their Tribe. Keirr then attempts to gain sympathy from Fraujar, but rightfully he gets none. Fraujar makes a statement to Keirr that the health of his tribe is everything to him, and he needs more from them than what they have shown Fraujar. Fraujar then assigns Felidae to get them acquainted with everything. Not sure what Keirr or Kique are thinking in this moment, as this is a total 180 from Keirr and his plans.( Page 311 - 314 )

Time passes for the pair and of course Aira asks Keirr when they are leaving Whispervale. Seems she’s the one that adopted Keirrs old personality, cause she’s the only one eager enough to go find them. Of course Keirr shuts her down with a bullshit excuse. “We need stability!” Not sure why he suddenly is against his own idea of searching for his family and staying with Whispervale. I mean what else did he expect trying to find them? Aira is obviously uncomfortable joining a Tribe she did not want, but again, Keirr doesn’t care. Finally their right of passage comes and Aira is the first one to participate. Aira is once again expressing she is UNCOMFORTABLE, before her trial begins. Keirr tries to reassure her, but beyond face value, Aira is stuck there because of his dumbass, unwilling at that. Of course Aira doesn’t do very well in her trial, Fraujar then says her character can be improved, but her structure is… Not up to parr. Then Keirr is all like “Oh she just needs to be trained!” Homie, did you not listen to anything Aira has said previously? She was BORN like this, she can’t just magically work out and get better. That’s not how disabilities work, idiot. ( And would you imagine it, Kique is actually an ableist and no wonder Airas character was handled like this! Go on! Read Stazz / Zirvasitys documents on her relationship with the kind hearted author! ) ( Page 326 - 331 )

Tch, anyway. Aira is obviously disappointed, she told Keirr and even expressed to Keirr that she did not want to join this tribe. I would imagine being in her shoes, she feels unheard, but tried to please Keirr anyway, only to fail. Then of course came Keirrs time and suddenly we’re shown a flashback between Keirr and his father. Of course, this was never shown in Asmundr, or Home. Suddenly Kainan and Keirr found time to actually give a shit about reindeer behavior. ANYWAY. Keirr is oddly confident in larping, how did the confident, son of Kainan, shield wolf killer end up in this situation lmfao. Of course, to nobodies surprise, Keirr nails the trial, he still loses the fight against Raun and everyone is buddy - buddy. ( Page 332 - 336 )

The next scene that follows, we have Raun shouting out at Keirr, saying he looks good and can pass as a guard if he keeps it up. Tbh, this seemed friendly at first, but watching the way Raun interacts with Keirr in the future, makes me feel like Raun is the neighborhood creep lol. Aira then comes out of the hut, her scars completely healed. Keirr is at least somewhat more supportive in this page, but future Keirr is nothing but a prick. ( Page 345 )

Fast forward to chapter 10, we finally see Keirr again, because all of chapter nine was about dumbass Rogio. Ahem. We actually see some progress from Keirr, at least keeping his word to himself. But the odd part is, he brought Raun and not Aira? First of all, Keirr hardly knows Raun and Aira understood the whole situation a lot better than Raun. Soooo.. Odd choice in bringing Raun. ( Would like to add really quick, I know Fraujar assigned Raun to follow Keirr, but why tf would Aira not come either? ) Raun is more dead weight anyway, because he’s being a giant wussy about being in that area anyway. Not even allowing Keirr to scope out the area, completely. And Keirr is just laughing about it, like cmon man, I would imagine you would want to potentially comb through the area, not cater to some giant wuss like Raun. ( Page 458 - 460 )

And to nobodies surprise, the next scene that involves Keirr is a flirty Raun. He tries to encourage Keirr to let loose and have some fun, which would have been cool if it had stayed as a friendship kind of thing. But yet again, Kique force feeds us another MxM ship. At one point, if Kique had kept up with the Rhovanion x Rogio arc that he was hinting at, at some point. All of his main male characters would have been gay. Which is obviously unrealistic, not impossible! But unrealistic. Honestly, I take Raun as a fucking creep. You hardly know anything about Keirr and yet, here he is trying to make flirty gestures and tell Keirr he’s avoiding him. As a woman, to my fellow women, any time a man points out that you’ve been avoiding him, a very creepy vibe showers over us. ( Page 478 - 479 )

Then to nobodies surprise again, Keirr is suddenly able to pin Raun, even though Raun was seen to be a lot stronger than Keirr in his trial. Aaaaand of course, Keirr reciprocates Rauns flirting by responding to him in a sexual manner, “I’m the lead sarv now.” However, in the future Keirr becomes more of an asshole at Raun from this point. ( Page 480 )

Ah now this scene just pisses me off and makes me want to throw Keirr off a cliff. Aira is seen laying around, presumably missing Keirr, I’m sure. Or, just wondering where he went. When she catches sight of him returning, she is understandably excited to see him. The one guy that helped her out with everything, in her worst times. The one guy that made her stop from becoming a beast again.. Shits on her entirely. Eyup, you heard it right. Apparently, getting people totally dependent on you and then being a giant asshole, is something Kique favors doing. Aira of course asks Keirr where he went, Keirr is suddenly acting like the biggest ass to Aira. Which tbh, he has no right doing. HE is the REASON she is there, in the first place. She has EXPRESSED to him NUMEROUS times she is uncomfortable with the tribe, but yet, he took her cries for help and rolled them up and tossed them like newspaper. What a god damn jerk Keirr is. And of course, Aira is understandably upset. Keirr basically told her to fuck off and go make her own friends. Even tho a few chapters ago, he was seen cuddling and holding her, telling her he was there for her. FUCK you Keirr. ( Page 481 - 482 )

In the next scene, Keirr then wants to play a pity party for himself, sitting in the rain, all sad looking. Like he didn’t cause this whole situation for himself. Nothing told this jackass to join Whispervale and stop searching for his family, he did it all himself! So really, why tf is he sitting there acting all depressed? Get off your ass and go look for them! Nobody told you that you couldn’t? Honestly, he’s lucky that Aira still gives a damn about him, even after he treated her like utter dog shit. Then, while Keirr is acting like a baby, Zilas makes an appearance and Keirrs dumbass thinks it’s a grand idea to talk to the ghoul. It’s kind of interesting to me how Zilas is still mostly recognizable.. You would think by now he’d peel his skin off, you know, like what Fjordor said that ghouls do. Zilas has been dead for quite a while. Aira then witnesses all of this and comes to his aid, banishing the ghoul. Keirr then suddenly gets all butt hurt about it and snarls at Aira. Okay, I get it, you’re mourning dude, but I would have figured you’d have some logic / sense to know that Zilas.. IS NOT ZILAS! Keirr even asked the ghoul what he could do, like the damn thing can talk back to him. Honestly, Aira should have just let the ghoul tear Keirr up to shreds and save us all the drama lmfao. And one last thing, when Keirr says he saw that ghoul before, but didn’t recognize it. GIRL WHERE? ( Page 515 - 517 )

Suddenly, Keirr is the master of establishing the differences in the ghouls sounds and can still hear Zilas. Also, when Aira mentions that she lived with the Meteor Tribe, really that opened up way too many questions about her that I’d like to ask. But anyway. Aira gives some speech to Keirr about how MT basically fucked around and found out with the spirits. Then a conversation falls into place about burning Zilas’s body on MT land, which ew, his body im sure would be pretty rotted away by now. But this also brings me to another question, what are the ghouls made of? Are they a manifestation of the soul? They quite obviously can’t be their former bodies, because if that were the case, they wouldn’t even find Zilas’s body, as he would have risen and been a ghoul. Another fat question for this comic and I’m not even sure if this was talked about? ( I’ll be honest with you, I forget if this part was talked about. ) ( Page 518 - 519 )

And here we go with the sexual tension between these two idiots, Keirr and Raun. Raun is a full on creep already, but really Keirr is the big asshole here. Previously, Raun asked him out, as he mentioned before the trip, to Felidae and Aira. So instead of.. Idk, not leading Raun on, what does Keirr do? Hugs him and shares a tender moment with him. Oh trust me guys, it gets fucking worse from this point. And I will continue to say that Raun is a creep, but even he doesn’t deserve to be led on. I also don’t remember Raun asking Keirr out, but I’ll just assume that was yet another important off screen moment. This is also yet another rushed, no chemistry ship crammed down our throats by Kique. ( Page 526 )

So finally we get to the part where they eventually burn Zilas’s body, Aira asks Keirr if he wants to say something and of course! Nothing. It’s almost like any time someone dies in this comic, proper funerals don’t exist. Granted, Keirr just said “I love you, brother.” But when given the opportunity before hand, he was like eh, I don’t have shit to say lmao. ( Page 528 )

Fast forward to a year, I mean 3 months later ( in Keirrs arc ). Of course, in another off screen moment, supposedly Keirr and the others returned to Whispervale and told Fraujar what happened. In my opinion, I feel like some punishment should have been bestowed upon them, or at least show Fraujar being upset with them for doing this behind his back. It would have shown more character from Fraujar and also shown Keirr getting his ass chewed out, by bringing all this unnecessary drama and bullshit into Whispervale. Keirr is also being another nosy ass, listening in on his Jarls discussion. Within the midst of this, Ferah makes her appearance. Keirr miraculously still remembers her and asks what the hell happened. I almost forgot that Keirr and Ferah met previously, because they literally didn’t say anything to each other lol. ( Page 566 - 567 )

Oh boy, here comes the cringiest scene that involves Keirr. Keirr steps away for a moment, after watching Ferah, once Felidae walks in. Ferah wakes up and of course is spooked, cause she doesn’t know wtf is going on. Somehow they both remember each others names, though I don’t remember them ever sharing their names to each other previously. Anyway, Keirr asks Ferah questions about Roamer and Ferah tells him that Ronja and Roamer are at MT. Of course, Keirr gets excited and quite frankly I’m surprised he didn’t smell them before, because Keirr was literally in their territory a few months back, but whatever! Ferah then tells Keirr they’ve both been strong and bla bla. Keirr of course tries to take off, being this annoying problem child as usual. If I were Fraujar I would be so annoyed with Keirr lmfao. Of course you can’t just take off like that, from your tribe, which YOU wanted to join. Raun stops Keirr from running off and what follows after is a recipe for fucking disaster lol. Keirr ends up kissing Raun, further leading the king of creeps on. Keirr KNOWS that Raun likes him, so apparently kissing him out of emotional excitement is a totally normal thing to do. Especially when you know that person has a CRUSH on you and yet you don’t reciprocate it! No, no, it’s totally okay to lead on someone who has feelings for you! ( Page 572 - 576 )

Damn near 100 pages later and we finally see Keirr again. Course, nothing has changed with him. Raun and Keirr are seen in a hut together, Raun is basically asking Keirr what they are, because I mean.. They touched tongues, lmfao. But that was because of Keirr throwing himself at Raun, so really I don’t blame Raun for asking. Now in Keirrs defense, I don’t know why tf Raun is grabbing Keirr like that, when asking him a question, so I mean Keirrs response is a little valid, when he yells at Raun. But the blame still lies with Keirr, because this whole time he has led Raun on, but at the same time Raun has been a giant freaking creep bag as well. They are then interrupted when Keirr walks out and runs into Fraujar, standing there, needing to talk to Keirr. ( Page 640 - 641 )

A few pages later, we see a non emotional reunion between Keirr, Ronja and Roamer. I mean god, all of their expressions are so god damn bland. Y’all haven’t seen each other in months, but let’s just 1,000 yard stare at each other, BEAUTIFUL. ( Page 645 - 646 )

Fast waaaay forwards, to more important scenes involving Keirr. After Rhov and Keirr’s reunion, we are graced with a scene where Rhov and Feaf are telling Keirr that MT might get attacked… This fucking idiot. So instead of putting this whole thing on top priority, Keirr just brushes it off and is like.. I’Ll TeLl FrAuJaR iN tHe MoRnInG. Dumbass, how do you know if they are attacking MT? Feaf literally said they might come to Whispervale? How does Keirr know they aren’t literally waiting in ambush, that very moment? HE DOESNT. So instead of putting his family top priority, like he probably should’ve, he decides to talk about his relationship status. What a great fucking family member / tribe member he is. On top of this, “figuring himself out.” I think you know where you stand, buddy. This whole scene though, Keirr was an idiot. He doesn’t even show the slightest BIT of concern for his family / MT. Let’s act depressed af, because he didn’t know where everyone was, but as soon as he finds them and they could potentially be in danger, ah, let’s wait to warn others till morning! ( Page 788 - 791 )

Finally Keirr and Whispervale show up, but yall are too damn late already. ( Page 808 )

And that about sums up my read along breakdown!

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- Personality Breakdown

So looking over Keirrs personality traits really gives me some mixed feelings. To be honest, I can’t say that he is independent. Not anymore at least, he was the one that decided he wanted to join Whispervale, he even went against his own independent idea of searching for his family. So for me, he is neither logical, independent OR family - oriented.

A few of these other positive personality traits really haven’t been tested thru the fire, so I can’t really say what he is or isn’t. Mainly because Kique does not focus much on Keirr, like he does with the jackasses of MT and former MT members.

To put it all in perspective though, Keirr was a pretty solid character in Asmundr and in the beginning of Home. Unfortunately, he too fell victim of Kiques weird kinks / fans and became a whole contradiction to himself and his own personality traits.

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And that is the end ladies and gentlemen! Hope you enjoy :)

- Zombiee