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eden-axe · 2 days ago

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Wrong Sparks p1

Summary: During an argument with Eddie, Volt gets upset with you and kicks you out of the bar, unknowingly hurting you.

Part 2

Eddie/Volt x gn!reader

Warnings: Yelling, electrocution, mentions of falling down stairs, Volt being possessive, minor violence.

Word Count: 1,727

After closing hours at the Breaker Box arguing could be heard to anyone who passed by Dorian, who was unlucky enough to have heard all of it for the past hour.

From inside the club you and Eddie were having, what you both would consider a ‘causal argument.’ Though to those who did not, your dynamic would think it would put Harper & Dirk's shouting matches to shame. Though every argument you had with Eddie had one thing in common: it came from a place of genuine concern and love; but paired with both of your stubborn ways, it looked more violent than you intended.

"Do I seriously have to ban you for a week so you can just cool down?" Eddie was growing tired from trying to get you to stay put at the bar for the past hour. You have been trying to help with maintenance, but he denied your offer every time since you sprained your wrist.

You knew his threat was empty, but with your mind growing just as tired, you believed him. You huffed, “Fine, then maybe I'll go be a regular at Bev's!”

Eddie reeled back at your very real threat. You did it before and didn't come to the Breaker Box for two days. All because Eddie wanted to stop serving you after you got drunk once & almost fell down the stairs; And if it weren't for Dorian pulling you into your room and getting you to bed safely. After Eddie learned what happened, you got into another argument, to which you went to Beverley's and slept next to Koa that night. You knew Eddie would blow a fuse that night out of concern if he saw you go up the stairs after getting drunk at Bev's.

When you realize you stepped out of line due to Eddie's silence, you shuffle your feet, thinking of what to say, but he beats you to it, "You can stay... but you can't help.

That comment sparks the fire of the argument in you again, "That's how we got here in the first place!"

Eddie sighs and pinches his nose, “Oh god, not this again" Eddie sighs & pinches his nose.

Your argument picks up again, possibly even louder now. The reason for the fight? You had recently sprained your wrist & cramped your hand from taking on a part time job from home while in ‘labor limbo’ and going around the house helping everyone else. Due to your exhaustion you didn't help much with repairs at the bar, but just sat at the bar and chatted with Eddie.

Eddie was there when you realized how bad your hands were; You were drying dishes while he washed, when you turned the glass & dropped it clutching your hand.

After a quick trip to Farya, she wrapped and iced your hand and told you to take it easy on physical labor. You listened to her for a few days; you stopped helping people around the house, and only took time in keeping pleasant conversation, and even took time off work. But now you feel guilty. Eddie had fallen further behind on work since you would stay after house at the Breaker Box for a chat. Now he was stretching himself thin to take care of you and the bar. When you didn’t come to the bar, Eddie would always come to find you and make sure you were resting… Which brings you back to now...

"I can handle it! Let me help!”

"No, you need rest. I've got it handled." The lights were starting to flicker as Eddie just wanted to get back to work and let you rest.

You scoffed, “Oh yeah, because working alone got you really far last time!"

You both paused as a bulb burst from above you. You look at Eddie, shocked at your own words. You start to move to him when a large hand grips your shoulder, painfully so.

“Volt—” Eddie starts, but doesn't get to finish.

Volt's skin, an inhuman shade of blue, stares coldly down at you, “You’re cut off for the day. Get. Out”

"Volt” You grab his wrist, about to beg him to hear you out, when he suddenly grabs your injured wrist.

Eddie tries to reach Volt seeing you hold back a pained yell, but Volt already has you out the door. "Stay away from Eddie." "Volt doesn't even look at you as he slams the door.

You bang on the door yelling for Volt to let you in, when a small current comes through the door. That small spark finally allows you to feel the pain in your arm, it's excruciating. Volt, whether knowingly or not, had electrocuted your arm. You let out an ear piercing scream, only muffled when someone pulled you into their chest & everything went dark.

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When you wake up you notice Farya and Betty right by your sides. Betty was petting your head as Farya was checking up on your arm. Her poking and prodding didn’t bother you, but you were confused why she was here.

“What happened?” You look around, but Betty keeps you lying down.

Curt and Rod appear from the end of your bed. Curt starts off the explanation, “It was crazy. Dorian bursts into the room carrying your.”

“And you were practically dead. Limp. The whole dramatics.”

“Yup. Farya entered not long after, and you were messed up real bad. Whoever you fought, they got you good.”

“They singed your arm bad. Farya considered cutting it off.”

Your heart started sped up as your breathing became uneven.

“They are just messing around. That was never even an option cutie.” Betty reassured you. Her warmth helped a bit, but the second you calmed down, you shot back up.

“Eddie!” You leapt from the bed before anyone could stop you. You raced to the door, but before you could even touch the handle Dorian grabbed your hand.

You look at him, but he shakes his head, “You need rest. Not to go mingling about with them.”

“Dorian, he didn’t mean to,” Your legs gave out, and he picked you up. When he put you back on the bed, you grabbed his hand, “Can you at least check if they are alright, especially Eddie.”

When Dorian doesn’t respond, you resort to puppy eyes and beg, “Please?”

Dorian sighs and squeezes your hand, “Your heart is too big from them, luv’.”

You thank him, and tell him you’ll go rest. You go to turn the lamp off, but when you make contact with the switch it shocks you. You go to pull your hand back, but Farya is already checking your fingers, lightly touching them.

“Does it hurt?”

You look at your shaking hands being touched by her steady one, then look at her, “I- I can’t feel anything.”

She releases your hand which begins to shake even more violently. Curt and Rod get up and head to the door.

“Oh those two really have their wires crossed.”

“Ain’t nobody mess with our friend.”

When they reach Dorian, he blocks their path, and before they could protest he gives them a look that shuts them up, “Look fellas, I know emotions are high but please, stay here with em’. I’ll handle them, I swear.”

Curt and Rod nod and go back to your bed, Curt pulling out cards they had kept themselves busy with before you woke up.

Rod dealt the deck as Dorian closed the door behind him.

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The Breaker Box had been closed for a few days after the incident with you and Volt. Eddie was against the idea, but Volt wanted him to rest and get the repairs done in a timely manner; it also gave Volt time to cool down.

Volt had regretted how rough he handled you that day, but when he saw Eddie blow a fuse he got overprotective. It was a rare thing for both of them, especially now that you joined them. When Volt got too overprotective, he boiled over to controlling and possessive, and this was the first time you had seen it. His blue flared side was something Eddie had told him to reel in, and Volt swears he’s been working on it.

Now Eddie was ignoring him as Volt refused to let him leave to check up on you. So now Volt is in the front cleaning up, while Eddie sits backstage. A loud banging on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“We’re closed.”

“Not here for a drink.”

Volt stood up straighter and opened the door when he heard Dorian’s voice. Volt invited him in and put on his warm host persona.

“How can I help you Dorian? You rarely come here, even when I personally invite you.”

Dorian glances around the room, “Where’s Eddie? I need to speak with both of you.”

Volt felt his protective nature boil up again, but Eddie’s voice carried from across the room, “What do you want? We’re busy right now.”

“Look I don’t want to be here either, but I need to know,” Dorian glares at the two of them, “Which one of you blokes messed with the power.”

“I beg your pardon? We’ve been here fixing the breaker.” Volt puffs out his chest as Eddie stands by his side.

“Look,” Dorian closes his eyes, “I know you lot had an argument the other day, but what you did was too far.”

Eddie moved his hand to his hip, “What was too far?”

“Ah… alrighty then.” Without warning Dorian reels back and punches Volt, sending him to the ground. Eddie rushes to Volt’s side and opens his mouth to yell.

“Look, if you want answers, ask your mate here. And please do stay away from the human unless you both have a proper apology. And I’ll think of letting you see them once they recover from your little stunt.” Dorian gives Volt a pointed look before taking off.

Volt sits up and looks at Eddie confused, “What does he mean ‘recover?’ Our live wire got hurt?”

Eddie looked at the door of the bar, “Yeah, they sprained their hand earlier. The one you grabbed, rather roughly.”

Volt looked down, the guilt finally catching up to him.

“We’ll go apologize to them tomorrow, for now let's deal with your face.” Eddie helps Volt up and takes him to the back to ice his face.

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Note: I will be making a part 2, so if you want to be tagged send me a dm or ask and I'll make sure you're notified when it drops. Please know it may take me a week or so to get it done. Any comments, feedback, or support is appreciated.

Also requests are open, please check pin to check out who I write for!

#date everything #eddie and volt #volt and eddie #eddie x reader #volt x reader #volt and eddie x reader #EdenAxe Writes #date everything x reader

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theglassofmiddleearth · 6 hours ago

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Imagine Being Isekai'ed into KPOP DEMON HUNTERS. (part 6)

SO, IIDEK WHAT TO PUT AS SUMMARY BUT LOWKEY HUNTR/X X Y/N! Also, we get some Mystery backstory here! (Also if you wanna hear some bad covering of Your Idol here it is

IDOl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

‘Technically we didn't follow you, we overheard you. We just happened to be in the vicinity of the conversation.’ Beom looked up to the left, refusing to meet Y/N’s eyes.

‘Y’know you can’t always get out of things by being cute. It doesn’t work that way.’ Y/N rolled her eyes, slumping onto the sofa face first. Watching their debut stage had really taken it out of her. Especially that walk back from the Huntr/x tower.

‘I’m cute?’ Beom’s eyes lit up, as if he were a puppy that had just been given a treat. Y/N could swear she saw a tail wagging behind Beom.

Was this what was known as the natural charm of a youngest group member? Even so, this man was over two huundred years old… Did demons mature in the underworld? Was it even possible to grow? Were they like vampires, just stuck mentally at their age forever? Y/N's mind whirled with unanswered questions.

‘I’m not repeating it.’ Y/N rolled her eyes, unlocking her phone. ‘Well, what's the plan? You have that variety show in about an hour.’

‘Well, seeing as the demon hunters know we have a shooting tonight, they’re probably gonna try to kill us after we finish.’ Jinu shrugged, he twisted the cap off an energy drink and passed it to Y/N.

‘Thanks.’ She smiled, sipping the drink.

‘Would you be upset if we killed them?’ Min tilted his head, seated in Y/N’s gaming chair. Although the man's light purple hair was obscuring his eyes, Y/N could tell he was looking at her.

‘Yes, very.’ Y/N answered quickly, taking another swig of her drink.

‘Hm, okay.’ Min turned his head to Rae. ‘Looks like it’ll be a change of plans then.’

‘YOU GUYS WERE PLANNING ON KILLING THEM?’ Y/N stood up, pointing her fingers at the plotting boys.

‘Well they were planning to kill us too.’ Abel shrugged, handing out pink clothing to the group.

‘Aw man, not pink again.’ Jinu groaned, holding his shirt as far away from himself as he could possibly.

‘You said you looked good in any colour.’ Y/N laughed, pointing her drink bottle at him.

‘Ugh, that doesn't mean I have to like the colour.’ Jinu grumbled, lifting his shirt over his head.

‘HEY, I’M STILL IN THE ROOM.’ Y/N squawked, turning around, only to be met with the four other shirtless men in the middle of changing. The girl quickly covered her eyes with her hands, squatting down in embarrassment.

‘Oh, sorry. Bad habit.’ Jinu said from behind her. ‘I’m decent now.’

Y/N peeked out of her fingers up at the voice, seeing a guilty looking Jinu.

‘I should have warned you. My bad.’ He stuck out his hand to which Y/N grasped.

Y/N let herself be tugged up, as the rest of the boys finished changing their shirts.

‘Okay, time for pants.’ Rae handed out jeans, each in a different shade of pink.

‘I’M GOING TO MY ROOM, TELL ME WHEN YOU GUYS ARE DONE.’ Y/N sprinted into her bedroom door, slamming it shut behind her.

‘She’s so cute, I could just eat her.’ Min remarked, zipping himself up.

‘Huh.’ Beom turned around.

‘Isn’t that what the young people say about cute things? I could eat it?’ Min sat back down in the chair, shrugging his shoulders.

‘No you old man, I could just eat her up. You need to add the ‘up’ or it just sounds like you wanna take her soul.’ Beom shook his head, brushing off the lint on his jumper.

‘Huh, alright, noted.’ Min gave a quiet laugh, leaning back in the chair with his arms raised.

–

They boys had insisted on bringing Y/N along with them, saying that they needed a fake manager.

They somehow had no manager but they had a typical van that Idols would use to travel. Y/N could see that someone was driving the car but she had never seen the man before today.

The boys were jabbering about how they would introduce themselves at the variety show and what they would do. They were sat in pairs, Jinu and Beom and Abel with Rae, leaving Min to sit next to Y/N.

‘If you don’t have a manager, how in the world are you pulling all of this off?’ Y/N blanched, ‘And if you don’t even have a manager, do you have a company? How did you even release Soda Pop?’

‘Hypnosis, we can make anyone do our bidding. Why do you think this person’s driving the car?’ Min leaned down whispering in her ear, his face close to Y/N’s.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask. Can you even see?’ Y/N reached up, fingertips just brushing Min’s purple hair-

‘Not really.’ Min abruptly grasped Y/N’s hand, gripping it tightly.

‘Ow.’

‘Sorry.’ Min released Y/N’s wrist in an instant. ‘I…’

‘It’s ok. I shouldn’t have-’

‘No. It’s my fault. I’m just… I have a thing about my face.’ Min sighed, turning away as the rest of the boys continued their conversations, unaware as to the situation in the back seat.

‘Does it have something to do with your deal with Gwi-ma?’ Y/N slid her hands underneath her legs, kicking her feet slightly.

‘Yeah. It does.’ Min said, resting his chin on his fist. Y/N looked down at her feet, waiting for the man next to her to elaborate.

‘I had leprosy.’ Min said in a hushed whisper. ‘It was bad. It started with my hands and feet but it spread. The disease always spreads until eventually… I became blind.’

‘Oh…’

‘It was the fourteenth century so there was no cure and I had no family.’ Min sighed, turning to look at Y/N, hair still obscuring his face. ‘I was begging in the street, stumbling around blind when a group of men beat me with sticks, telling me to do them a favour and just die.’

‘Assholes.’ Y/N grumbled, crossing her arms.

‘Yes, they were.’ Min chuckled at her reaction, putting a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder before continuing. ‘And that was when I first heard Gwi-ma, whispering in my ear.’

‘What did he offer you?’ Y/N blinked, not noticing that the entire car had gone quiet.

‘He said he could take away my scars and help me get revenge on those who had wronged me.’ Min laughed, resting his head against his seat. ‘Now that I think about it, it was such a shallow deal. I barely got anything from it.’

‘You were hurting. Vulnerable.’

‘I was weak.’ Min shook his head, seemingly disappointed in himself.

‘Men have killed for less.’ Y/N noted, as the car slowed to a stop.

‘You’re right about that one I guess.’ Min chuckled, unbuckling Y/N from her seat before doing his own.

‘I honestly thought you were just hiding a big ass forehead.’ Y/N shrugged, stepping out of the car, following the rest of the boys into the studio.

‘HAH! I’ll have you know I was quite handsome before I got that stupid disease.’ Y/N could practically hear Min rolling his eyes.

‘Yeah yeah… Wait, fourteenth century… You have to be the oldest!’ Y/N bounced along, passing through the doors leading into the set.

‘Such a smart girl.’ Min hummed, leaning down.

‘Uh…’

Min smirked, combing back his bangs with one hand, revealing his face for a second. Y/N was stunned, eyes lingering on Min’s own ones.

He really was beautiful.

Hell, people would go to war for a face like that, regardless of Min being a man.

‘Wow.’ Y/N blinked, eyes bugged wide.

‘Hm, maybe Gwi-ma really did do me a favour.’ Min continued to smirk, letting his hair fall back into place, turning to walk onto the stage where the rest of the boys were filing onto.

‘Um-’

‘We’ll talk after the show.’ Min lifted Y/N’s chin gently, looking down at her through his hair.

‘Okay…’

‘That’s our girl.’ Min smiled, releasing her chin before walking onto stage with the rest of the boys.

‘Holy crap…’ Y/N gaped.

Min’s face was like nothing she’d ever seen. Imagine the most handsome man you knew, married the most beautiful woman on earth and had a baby. Not even then would that child compare to Min.

‘Huh, no wonder Zoey said he was just her type.’ Y/N mused, watching the hosts introduce the boys.

‘Who’s my type?’ A voice chimed in, merging into Y/N’s thoughts.

‘Zoey?’ Y/N spun around to face the three Hunt/x girls.

‘Twice in one day, aren’t we lucky.’ Mira smiled, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

‘Why are you here? Are you scouting out the competition?’ Rumi gave the ghost writer a tight hug, her leather outfit squeaking quietly.

‘Uh, actually I’m-’

‘Oh, OH! Maybe Y/N can watch us take out these demons! She’s never gone with us on a mission before!’ Zoey interrupted, her eyes wide and pleading.

Holy crap Zoey was good at puppy dog eyes. Y/N flickered her gaze between the boys who were now chugging hot sauce, for some reason, to Zoey’s begging eyes.

‘Okay, I’ll watch.’ Y/N agreed, unsure of how this would go down. In the original story this was where Jinu would see Rumi's patterns but... He already knew and so did the rest of the girls.

Rumi cheered quietly, ‘Great! Once they come off the stage, we’ll jump down for the attack!’

‘These boys will be-

‘Done, done, done!’ Zoey finished, as the girls let out evil giggles, as they climbed the steps behind the set, peeking over the set.

Y/N watched on nervously as Beom let out the most sarcastic ‘Goo goo, ga ga’ She’d ever heard in her life.

‘Oh boy…’ Y/N mumbled, glancing between the girls and her demon boyband.

‘Hard to goodbye when we’re having so much fun!’ One of the hosts said into the mic.

‘So hard! So hard…’ The other said, shaking his head in mock sadness.

Jinu took the mic, sending a little smirk to the side wings where Y/N was watching.

Oh no.

What was this man planning?

‘Then why say goodbye when we have an extra special guest coming up?’ He addressed the audience, guesting backstage.

‘What is he up to?’ Y/N mumbled, watching him walk towards her.

‘Oh HELL NO.’ She said, turning to run as Jinu grabbed the back of her collar.

‘Say hello to our writer and producer, Y/N!!’ Jinu cried out, practically dragging her on stage.

‘Ah haha- hi!’ Y/N waved awkwardly as the spotlights partially blinded her. The cheering from the crowd surprised her, as she squinted under the lights.

‘We have her to thank for writing our debut song!’ Abel smiled, as the rest of the boys came to stand around her.

‘Yeah! Thanks Y/N!’ Beom called out, as the group began to bow at her.

‘Wow so hot and respectful!’ The audience cheered, as the boys bowed.

‘Oh no… It was my pleasure.’ Y/N bowed back.

‘No really it was ours!’ The boys folded completely in half as Y/N gaped, shifting her eyes to see an angry looking Huntr/x on the side.

‘Well! That's all we have time for today!’ The hosts called, as the curtains began to close. ‘See you next time! Play Games With Us!’

‘What the hell was that?!'

‘Sorry Y/N, hold on tight!’ Abel smiled, lifting Y/N over his shoulder as the Saja Boys began to run out the back exit.

‘Y/N!’ The girls called, chasing after them, concern etched on the girl’s faces.

‘Girls!’ Y/N called out, stretching her hand out as the door swung shut in front of her.

The boys ran into the bathhouse, Y/N slumped over Abel's shoulder as the girls spotted Y/N still being carried off.

‘Over there! Let’s get our Y/N back!’

‘Aw man, we were just in a bathhouse this morning.’ Mira groaned, running along with the girls.

The girls opened the bathhouse door, peeking out one by one.

‘Aw man, it's a men’s bathhouse.’ Rumi whined, spotting half naked men.

‘Wow, did you guys really follow us in here?’ Jinu rolled his eyes, knowing damn well Huntr/x followed because they had taken Y/N with them.

‘Of course they did, that one’s always looking at our Y/N.’ Abel snarked, jumping slightly to bounce Y/N on his shoulder, receiving an oomf from the flopped over girl.

‘Give us back our Y/N!’ Zoey brandished her throwing knives.

‘You think we’re just gonna let you steal our Y/N and our fans?’ Rumi snarled, gripping her sword tightly. ‘You’re gonna have to fight us for both!’

‘Yeah, keep your hands off our girl.’ Mira backed Rumi up, lifting her moon blade.

‘Heh, we’re not here to fight.’ Jinu shrugged, splaying his arms, as demons rose from the hot baths. ‘They are.’

‘Water demons.’ Rumi narrowed her eyes.

‘Oh great. My favourite.’ Mira cheered sarcastically, eyes darting to count how many were now slowly surrounding the group.

‘Get rid of the hunters. Then, you can eat all the souls you want.’ Jinu smirked, placing a hand on the water demon in front of him.

‘Rumi!’ Y/N called out, as the rest of the boys ran through the bathhouse, leaving Huntr/x behind.

‘Have fun!’ Jinu ran out, almost slipping on a puddle of water. 'Ah crap.'

Zoey and Mira were slashing through the demons, killing several each second.

‘GO get back Y/N!’ Mira called out to Rumi, slicing through a group of demons.

‘But there's so many!’ Rumi protested, twisting away from a pair of demon claws.

‘Y/N’s alone with them, we need to go get her!’ Zoey threw her daggers, hitting two in the face.

‘GO rumi! We’ll catch up.’ Mira called out, flipping through the air and slamming her blade into the ground, causing a wave of the demons to be vaporised.

‘Okay!’ Rumi flipped over a demon, rushing toward the door that she had seen the boys run through.

‘You promised you wouldn’t kill them. Y/N protested, still being carried by Abel.

‘Technically, we’re not.’ Jinu giggled, running forward, oblivious to Rumi advancing behind him.

‘Gimmie back my Y/N!’ Rumi slashed at the man with her sword, catching his shirt slightly as Jinu ducked almost too late.

‘‘She’s mine.’ Jinu snarled, throwing a bucket at Rumi. He jumped as he slashed at Rumi’s arm with his claws, cutting a piece of her clothing off her arm, drawing blood.

‘AH.’ Rumi cried out, clutching at her arm.

The wall burst open, Mira and Zoey had kicked a demon straight through.

‘Rumi!’ Y/N called out, reaching toward her, as she was carried further away. Jinu turned at the sound of Y/N’s voice, snapping him out of his violent haze.

'DON'T HURT HER.' Y/N cried out, her frustration leaking into her voice.

‘Better help your friends. They look like they need it.’ Jinu smirked, running towards the exit without a second glance.

‘Y/N!’ Rumi shouted desperately as she slashed through the demons that were still emerging from the bathhouse pools.

‘I’ve never seen the Honmoon like this before! There are tears everywhere!’ Zoey threw her knives, each finding their mark.

‘I think it’s because the Saja Boys are stealing the fans! It’s weakening the Honmoon!’ Mira grunted as she stuck her spear into the ground, allowing Rumi to swing on it to gain momentum.

The girls panted with exertion as they finally cleared out the room.

‘What are you doing here! This is the men's bathhouse!’ An elderly man grouched, shooing the girls away as they apologised profusely.

‘Hmph.’ The man sat down on his stool, going back to scrubbing his arms.

‘My little soda pop.’ The man hummed, as a water demon arose silently from the waterbucket, inhaling the mans soul.

–

Y/N groaned, as Abel finally let her down as the elevator doors opened.

‘I think I'm carsick.’

‘I’m not a car…’

‘Whatever, Y/N shook her head, steadying herself. ��Jinu you hurt Rumi!’

‘She literally tried to take my head off Y/N.’ Jinu rolled his eyes, crossing his arms defiantly.

‘But she didn’t.’ Y/N protested, gesturing wildly before stumbling, putting her hand on her head.

Jinu was at her side in an instant, clutching at the arms gently.

‘Tired?’ Jinu’s tone changed from annoyance to worrisome in a flash. ‘If you want, I can whip up something quick. Or you can go to sleep now.’

‘Just a headache, I think the all-nighters are catching up with me.’ Y/N slowly sat down on the couch with Jinu’s help.

“Can we get you anything Y/N?’ Rae kneeled down next to her, checking her forehead temperature. ‘Your forehead is a little warm Do you have any medication at home?'

'It'd all probably be out of date.' Y/N shook her head, laying down on her side, face against the couch cushions as the boys fussed over her.

‘Did she eat lunch?’

‘No I don’t think so.’

‘Should we-’

‘Mm, need to shower…’ Y/N whined, burying her face further into the couch cushion.

‘Okay, come on. Up we get.’ Abel heaved Y/N into his arms bridal style. Y/N grouched, her eyes closed as she shifted in the demon’s well built arms, smushing her face into his chest.

Jinu raised his eyebrows, watching his biggest friend turn slowly bright pink in the face.

‘Heh, look at Abel, he’s blushing.’ Beom jeered, pointing.

‘Shut up. Don’t act like you wouldn’t be the exact same way if she was doing it to you.’ Abel spat out quietly. Beom in return, held up his hands in mock surrender.

‘You slipped in before I could!’

‘You snooze, you lose.’ Abel stuck out his tongue, walking towards the bathroom, separate from her ensuite. ‘Hey, are you sure you’ll be able to stay awake while you shower?’

‘Can I just sleep?’ Y/N groaned, shifting into a more comfortable position in Abel’s arms.

‘You said you wanted to shower.’ Abel hummed, finding his way to Y/N’s room instead.

‘Here, lay her down and I’ll wipe her face.’ Min appeared behind, holding a wet towel, doused in warm water.

As Abel slowly (and reluctantly) detangled Y/N’s limbs from his own, Min gently rubbed Y/N’s cheeks with the towel. Abel turned to go turn off the bedroom light so Y/N wouldn’t squint.

‘Y’know, I think-’ Suddenly Min disappeared in a puff of smoke.

‘Wot?’ Abel blinked, looking at the empty space where Min was, now replaced by the wet towel on the floor.

‘Uhh, Abel?’ Beom came into the room, looking confused. ‘Jinu 형 (hyung) and all the others just poofed.’

‘Wait, did Gwi-ma just take them back?’ Abel blinked, looking at Y/N who was now out cold in her bed.

‘I think so… their patterns were glowing.’ Beom mumbled from behind his fist, looking confused. But, we didn’t get taken. Why?’

‘Could it be?..’

Both boys turned to look at the sleeping girl, who was now drooling slightly.

‘Mm, ramen…’ Y/N mumbled, before turning over in the bed.

‘Did she-’

‘It couldn’t be..’

–

Meanwhile the boys had been pulled back, slamming into the ground as they landed.

'Saja Boys! Saja Boys!’ The demons chanted, looking at the group, waving lightsticks around.

The boys looked around, slightly irritated that they were no longer in Y/N’s apartment.

‘Wait where’s-’ Jinu began, before being interrupted by a loud shout from a demon in the crowd.

‘Look! Souls incoming!’

And they were. Streaking across the sky were blue lights, finding their place in the fire behind three of Saja Boys.

‘My little soda pop.’ The flames hummed, ‘It’s catchy.’

‘Surprisingly your little plan is working.’ Gwi-ma said, almost as a challenge.

‘I know. So lemme get back to work and you’ll be feasting in no time.’ Jinu plastered a fake smile, a charming one nonetheless.

‘Except, two of your friends. I can no longer see them. Are they dead?’

‘Yes.’ Jinu answered, thinking quickly, ‘But we’ll kill all of the hunters before they get the rest of us.’

Gwi-ma was wrong about them being dead, but he was right about not controlling the boys. Abel and Beom had not been dragged back to the underworld with the rest of the group. Jinu knew they weren’t dead but… How come they weren’t here? How had they escaped Gwi-ma’s control?

‘I’ve taught you well Jinu.’ The giant flame chuckled as the Saja Boys disappeared again, into a puff of pink smoke.

–

As the boys reappeared in Y/N’s apartment, the doorbell began to ring. Jinu frowned, turn around to see that the Huntr/x girls were covered in scratches, waiting to be buzzed up on the monitor.

‘Go wakeup Y/N.’ Jinu said, ‘Tell her the hunters are here. Abel and Beom, we need to talk.’

As the boys slinked into one of Y/N’s spare rooms. Rae knocked on Y/N’s door before opening, knowing that the girl would sleep through the knocking.

‘Y/N? The Huntr/x girls are here, they’re waiting to be buzzed in.’ He gently shook the shoulder of the sleeping girl.

‘Wha?’ Y/N rasped, turning over to face Rae.

‘Huntr/x is down stairs.’

‘Oh my gosh!’ Y/N sat up immediately, flinging her covers back and slipping her flip flip’s on. She rushed to buzz them in, before looking around her apartment.

‘Where’d the boys go? Doesn’t matter, you guys have to hide! Go in-’ Y/N opened her spare room to see the rest of the Saja Boys, already hiding in the room.

‘Uh, we’ll be in here as you guys talk.’ Beom gave a hopeful smile.

‘Do you guys ever go back to your own apartment?’ Y/N slapped a hand to her forehead.

‘No not really.’ Min shook his head.

‘We only got it because-’

‘We’ll talk later. The room is soundproofed but still be quiet!’ Y/N closed the door, just as the elevator began to beep happily.

‘Y/N!’ Rumi rushed forward checking Y/N all over, a teddy bear band aid covering her cheek.

‘Y/N you’re safe!’ Zoey rushed forward, pulling Y/N into a hug.

‘We were so worried.’ Mira sighed, walking forward, holding a bag.

‘Girls, I’m sorry. I really am the writer of their music.’

‘It’s okay. They must have forced you into it.’ Rumi shook her head, guiding Y/N to the kitchen island. ‘Come on, sit. You probably haven’t eaten all day!’

Y/N’s stomach gurgled loudly in reply.

Traitor.

‘Erm.’ Y/N rubbed her neck in embarrassment. ‘How did you guys know?’

‘You never eat if you’re working and today was…’ Zoey trailed off.

‘Y/N, are you okay?’ Mira set down the bag of kimbap before rummaging through the cupboard to find a plate.

‘Yeah, you must have been so scared.’ Rumi touched a hand to Y/N’s shoulder.

‘No, Rumi are you okay? Your arm, did you disinfect it before you bandaged it?’ Y/N hurriedly lifted Rumi’s shirt sleeve, relieved to see a bandage wrapped around it. The purple haired girl had been wearing shorter sleeves since she had told the rest of the girls about her patterns.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve had worse.’ Rumi smiled, looking content. ‘We’ve all had a lot worse.’

‘Still…’ Y/N frowned, putting her head in her hands. ‘I don’t want you guys getting hurt. I don’t want the Saja Boys to take souls either-’

‘Y/N calm down, we know you have your reasons, whatever they may be.’ Mira hushed Y/N, sliding a plate of kimbap toward her.

‘But-’

‘We trust you.’

‘But we do need to get our fans back. Have you seen the Honmoon? I’ve never seen it so bad.’ Zoey sighed, resting her head on her arms face down.

‘We could record What It Sounds Like! That’ll be-

‘No, I have a better song!’ Y/N dashed toward her gaming set up, snatching up her book. ‘It’s called Takedown!’

‘Oh?’ Rumi hummed, giving the rest of Huntr/x a knowing smile. ‘Our Y/N’s a musical genius isn’t she.’

‘No. It’s you guys, you inspire me so much!’ Y/N flipped the pages to Takedown. ‘Let me know what you think!’

The girls gathered around the notebook, scanning the lyrics.

‘Break you into pieces in a world of pain, cause you’re all the same?’ Mira muttered, flipping through the pages.

‘Wow, Y/N, if you wrote a love song for me, I think I’d fall in love with you.’ Rumi cocked her head, giving Y/N a smile that she couldn’t place.

‘Rumi, focus.’ Mira laughed, patting the purple haired girl on the shoulder. ‘You can flirt with our girl when we grind these Saja Boys into the dust.’

A thump came from inside the spare bedroom.

The huntr/x girls didn’t hear it but, Y/N swear she heard someone make a noise of protest.

‘This is exactly what we need.’ Rumi nodded in approval, flicking through the lyrics. ‘We have two weeks until the Idol Awards. We’ll release the song then! Is that enough time? I don’t want you to overwork yourself Y/N.’

‘I’ll be fine! I just have to do Takedown and What It Sounds Like.’ Y/N nodded enthusiastically.

‘You don’t have to do both Y/N.’ Zoey fretted, as Y/N moved to go boot up her PC.

‘But if you release both, you can do it as a joint stage! You could make the Honmoon golden! Fix all the cracks!’ Y/N bounced in her seat, pulling up her digital audio station.

‘Y/N, if you overwork yourself you’ll get sick. If you think you can do it, go ahead, but make sure you’re getting enough rest.’ Rumi laid a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, her tone was akin to an owner scolding their puppy.

‘I can do it!’ Y/N pouted, looking up at Rumi.

‘Alright then.’ Rumi sighed, laughing quietly. ‘You’re so cute when you’re excited, it’s hard to say no to you.’

‘Right? I could just keep her in my pocket!’ Zoey sat down gazing at Y/N while she slid on her headphones, testing out her midi controller.

She had since forgotten the Saja Boys in her spare room, now focusing on replicating the beat in her head, using a thick bass sound to replicate the electro punk sound.

'Hey, can you guys stay so I can get a few recordings?' Y/N stared into the computer, frowning as she adjusted her mic settings for the girls.

'Yeah sure!'

'Perfect.'

The girls worked into the night, making a rough version of Takedown for Y/N to edit.

Tag list: @ajunoiseee @silverklaus @thesimppotato11 @devilchicc @imlost-sendhelp @tumblblob @arieslucy @maybeethan69 @t4naiis @6demonica9 @suzieq1948374 @katzline @justyourlocalfriendlydinosaur @1950schick @myjerseygirlblog @sky2lar @itsjustkhaos @nevermorekisses @valeriele3 @yoongi-tunes @reibelhearts @satansdaughter123 @iheartyourgrandpa @justanindiangirl12 @uniquecutie-puffs @xyndyn @akiqvq @brightestflame @vivian-555 @oscars-wifeyyy @maybeethan69 @violetraccoon-4 @kanaes-world @chaos-inperson @ermespop @hisashifrey @venommie @booakaisha @lyunsafebubble @mimiu3usoft @doodle-with-rhy @lycemagee @sightofaghost @polinazavialova @singlepringle4you @reallynotsoconfident @confusedparticle @blackstar-gazer @gl00muraaii @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

@marley1773 @poem-bee @girlypopmymelody @deyshayk14 @mysticalpandora @crescent-z @mothraantics @baby-bread-in @bubbabobabubbles @needsleep3000 @strayharmony943 @frootloopscos @briceericeee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @portrait-ninja @yucanbmylxdy @tatsuri-zomushiki @zoeyella1-4 @tanspostsblog @pixiedustaddictsblog @smoophie @leaheclipse @st3f13ily @odessa-is-my-queen @kyouzki @truth-snake @centavosmisteryoso11cent1 @dragongirl642 @moonymoo1 @lovemiss-vale

@pandaquick @emberswithers @raineandcl0uds @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @fantasyhopperhea @thesehandsarerated-e @mel3484 @sweetprincesscomputer @itoshiism @doodle-with-rhy @itsberrydreemurstuff @airwolf92 @sweatydazeshark-blog @anteroz @maryloudiaries @anything-and-everything-here69 @moosshroom @sleepyallthetimedontknowwhy @seung185 @sashagaming1012 @confused-smol-fan @dinoplantsghost @prettylittlelavvy @rory1939 @luffysprincess @bethleeham

@julianne1024 @rauvolfioideae @asakiyu @junebuggz @esposamultifandom @celesteelysia @prorpy @nonetheartist @historygeekqueen @anonymoustext @jamaicanqueen007 @amery-benson-cvii @scoliobean @angelkazusstuff @p1nkpaperstars @candlewitch-cryptic

TAG LIST IS FULL FOLLOW POST FOR UPDATES! also lmk if u wanna hear the Takedown cover!

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yasministration · 3 days ago

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shadowed shed - harry potter

summary: when you go look for a lamp to bring outside whilst your and harry's families have dinner outside, he sneaks away to find you and you both get a little distracted wc: 0.9k+ cw: making out, kind of getting caught?? but not really?? part of my wolfstar!daughter au

The cold air tickled at your skin, fairy lights barely lighting up the dinner table set up outside. You didn't know how everyone else wasn't bothered by it, James and Sirius discussing something animatedly next to you, wide smiles on both of their faces. Lily and Remus joined in on the conversation, quietly laughing and commenting on the story.

Glancing towards Harry, sat facing you, you smiled softly. He was already looking at you, resting his cheek on a closed hand. However, the poor lighting hid away the small details you adored so much about his face, like the way his eyes lit up whenever he grinned, or the way his cheeks flushed when you teased him jokingly.

“Oh hey, we forgot to get tissues.” Your dad Sirius, mumbled, looking around the table. Hopping up, you said “I’ll grab some.” “Thanks, love.” You hurried into the house, making a mental note to grab a portable lamp on your way out. Trudging into the kitchen’s pantry, you reached above your head to grab an unopened box of tissues before heading outside again.

It was only as you pulled out your chair to sit down again that you remembered the lamp, gasping as you abandoned the table once more to fetch it, mumbling the explanation under your breath. Returning to the kitchen pantry, you looked around for a portable lamp, humming absentmindedly when you didn’t find any. You opened the kitchen door leading to the side of the house, beelining towards the shed.

Opening its door, you huffed. You needed an entire lamp just to see inside the shed too. Pulling out your wand, you opened your mouth to mumble a lumos when a clattering sound behind you had you jumping with a squeak.

“Sorry, love.” Harry apologised as you turned to face him, exhaling deeply at the realisation that it was only him. “You scared me.” Harry placed both hands on your hips as he stepped towards you, chests touching. “What are you doing here?” You asked, pocketing your wand to put your hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Feel like we haven’t spoken all night,” Harry spoke, leaning his face closer to yours, “Thought we could hear each other better alone.” You nodded slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What?” Harry asked, noticing the look on your face. You shook your head, a hand moving from his shoulder to cradle the back of his head, pushing him closer to you as you angled your face upwards.

Harry fluttered his eyes shut as his lips met yours, a soft sigh escaping him. You hummed into the kiss, and your boyfriend’s grip tightened on your hips, guiding you deeper into the shed until you hit the edge of its counter. Separating your lips from Harry’s, you asked “Won’t they come looking for us?” Harry scoffed, pecking your lips once before replying “They won’t notice we’re gone for at least an hour.”

Giggling, you captured Harry’s parted lips with yours, immediately snaking your tongue into his mouth to taste him, an essence of butterbeer lingering on his tongue. His tongue fought against yours so he could steal access into your mouth, the messy kiss leaving your lips dribbling with saliva.

Hands trailed down to your thighs, gripping tightly and pulling you up. with a loud gasp, swallowed by Harry’s kiss, you were hoisted up onto the shed’s counter, giving you and Harry potential for closer proximity. Spreading your legs, you tugged Harry closer to you, a hand snaking into his hair to form a tight grip, no longer having to suffer from the height difference between you.

The darkness looming in the shed protected you from any curious eyes; if either of your parents happened to walk by this side of the house, there was a chance they wouldn’t see you. Unless they wondered why the shed’s doors were open and came in for a closer look. Wrenching you lips off Harry’s to desperately drink in the oxygen around you, you gasped softly as he moved his kisses to your neck, leaving a trail of saliva across your skin before focusing on a single spot to suck hickeys onto, biting down harshly. Squeaking, your thighs clamped around Harry’s torso, causing him to groan against the flush skin of your neck.

Removing your hand from your boyfriend’s bicep, you wiped away at the spit on your chin, but it didn’t do much as Harry chose that same moment to bring his lips back to yours, his hands trailing back to grip your ass, pushing you to the edge of the counter so he could grind his pelvis into yours.

With a low whine, your hips bucked into his, before you came back to your senses, and broke the kiss again. Bringing your voice down to a whisper, you told Harry “We’re gonna get-” but you froze as your eyes flicked to a dark figure approaching the shed.

“Lumos.” Your eyes widened as James Potter’s face lit up in front of you, feeling your face go hot at the sight of your boyfriend’s dad catching you in such a compromising position. Godric, life would’ve been kept so much easier if you hadn’t began dating your parents’s best friends’ son.

Harry slowly turned around to face his dad, and you could only imagine the awkward smile on his face. A smirk made its way onto James’s face, and despite knowing the answer, he still asked “What are you guys doing here?”

“Lamp!” You replied, pitch embarrassingly high. James hummed, looking around the shed with an attentive hum. “Yeah, okay. Nice hickey, by the way.” You gasped loudly as Harry’s dad began walking away, taking the light with him. When Harry turned back around, you had already hopped off the counter, causing the proximity between you to be impossibly closer.

At the sight of your humiliated face, Harry grinned, bringing a hand up to caress your cheeks. “So where were-” “Harry!”

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy, @liviessun, @rory-cakes, @heebiemcjeebies, @fl0weryannie, @muffinemmaa, @anne061989, @regsg18, @graciereads, @adharaoaklyn, @hawaii2320, @c0ldstvff, @bigbodycity, @starmaniii, @urmom101, @simpfortoomanymen, @ennaholic, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @eunicefrogsandfoes, @dreamamubarak, @quinquinquincy, @vxyselectric, @liliemb04, @crowleythesexydemon, @lovelyygirl8, @matcha-kitty13, @dlljdhsh, @yegrnn, @marauder-era6779, @xadenswhore, @5sospenguinqueen, @esposadomd, @paytonluvxx, @wrenisrad, @lovelyteenagebeard, @mxvoid26, @bxuzi, @dlljdhsh, @aouoo, @isnt-itstrange @fandomhoe101, @user010380, @simp-for-fiction

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bonus-links · 3 days ago

Note

*waiting eagerly and patiently for directors commentary* :)

IT'S DONE RAHHHHHH ITS FINALLY DONE!!!!!!! I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter but I am REALLY excited to move on to what's next!!!!! i have been waiting literal years to get here,,,,

starting off with a few things: these frames are the same design from pt. 9, just damaged now. it's also uh. literally the same drawings KJSNFKJG listen sometimes I just have to make things easier on myself. also convenient crack through the hero of time's right eye >:-)

okay so the hero of time lore gives me a bit of a headache. let it be known that I understand in wolf's timeline, the events of OOT technically never happened. He knows the "hero of time" moniker bc he's met him, and i could've SWORN that name is mentioned if not somewhere in TP then in the TP manga. suspend ur disbelief for me lol

Anyway the idea is basically that post-game Wolf has done some digging to track down the person the Hero's Shade was when he was alive. I like to imagine he had some kind of bargain with Zelda where if he agreed to come to certain events she'd let him dig around in what survived of the archives after lol. I actually got stuck on this panel for a while trying to think of some other imagery that got this idea across without being so,,,idk on the nose? but i couldn't think of anything so i went with this HAHA. Even if Mask wasn't technically the "hero" in this timeline, I think he still ended up being a prominent figure, and some documentation of him would exist. An unfinished portrait, a text about the history of the royal guard, military records, correspondence between him and the castle, etc.

ALSO ALSO. how do they know they're talking about the same hero of time? well, they don't. they're making an educated guess lol. obviously whoever made this statue of the Hero of Time couldn't make it look exactly like him, but I feel like Wolf has noticed enough similarities between depictions to be like. hey wait a second

wake is trying to give a pep talk here like "come on guys, going on adventures is what we do!!" meanwhile Wolf and Loft are both like. yeah i guess leaving our loved ones behind with little notice to go on dangerous missions we may never return from IS what we do.....

speaking of which Loft is maybe technically being a little bit of a hypocrite here but I really think he's just trying to make sure Wake doesn't make the same mistake he did lol. he's feeling guilty

one of many things I really regret abt this chapter is not having Tetra and Loft have a conversation similar to the one he and BOTW Zelda have. I feel like Tetra's experience of getting to grow up outside of the pressure of the royal family or her role and then basically having it forced on her during the events of WW would be very valuable for him to hear. I had so many things I was trying to juggle this chapter and somehow that just slipped through the cracks 😭 im sorry tetra.

AT LAST!!! ANNA FROM FROZEN!!! when all that was going down a few weeks ago i was like GUYS GUYS WAIT. HE'S ALMOST HERE. does this mean I have to get a new icon now

in case its not clear (and it probably isn't) he's in the ALTTP lost woods!

okay so some of you may have noticed this, but up until now we've basically been following the thread of mainline games, starting where the timeline merged and working our way back to where it split in OOT. ALTTP is technically part of that, as the timeline where the Hero of Time dies. I have them all connected through the Lost Woods. The pitch for this was basically "wouldn't it be so fucking funny if Mage could've joined the story way earlier but didn't bc he was the only one with enough sense and also enough gall to just throw something through it." and then I couldn't NOT do that

so on that note, this is the BOTW lost woods. If you look closely, you can see Wolf in the distance.

I wanted to do something to establish him as a magic user! he could have just pulled these out of his bag but where's the fun in that. you might also notice that he's not wet because the rain isn't actually hitting him

ALTTP ZELDA MY BELOVED!!!! that's all

that's all i've got for now!!! bonus links turned 3 years old 3 days ago which is. wild. thank you all for sticking with this story for so long!!!

#directors commentary #bonus content

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public-benches · 2 days ago

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Hi I was one of the campers during that year (go valks) and I want to add a little reporting from the kids’ perspective because this event haunted the camp for years after it happened. Like everyone knew the Zac Efron Died story even if you weren’t there that year and if you WERE there that year it was retold like an oral history passed down between generations because again, no technology to share it with and nothing more than a few ambitious girls’ diaries as evidence cataloguing this great historical landmark.

Anyways I was there that year, and as some cultural context for readers, the way that young girls create community when cut off from the outside world and the internet and without any men around is… kind of incredible. We all wore uniforms, like just white collared shirts and blue fabric shorts every day, and I didn’t think much of it at the time but I think that really contributed to breaking down social barriers that might have otherwise remained from The Real World. There was nothing else to do or worry about for an entire month, so we lived pretty harmoniously in this bubble and made our own fun.

The Zac Efron Incident was like a fire catching in a field of dead grass. The downside of cutting a large community of girls off from the outside world is that every scrap of information becomes 100 times more precious and impactful, and there’s nothing to distract us from supposed tragedy.

Some people remember where they were during 9/11. I remember where I was when Zac Efron “died”. I was in line for the showers because that was usually the time mail was distributed. One moment everything was normal. The next, everyone around me was breaking out into the same conversation: “oh my god, did you hear? Is it true? So and so told me that so and so’s bunkie got a letter saying… yeah she saw it! It’s true!” And then the town criers came wailing down the streets: “ZAC EFRON IS DEAD!” And the whispering turned into chaos, and girls were crying and clinging to each other and running to tell their friends in their cabins, and it was a whole mess.

For my part, I had never seen high school musical. I knew the name Zac Efron but I couldn’t place a face to save my life. I didn’t care if this guy had died. Half the girls in my cabin didn’t care either. What we REALLY cared about was joining the fun, because this was the craziest thing to happen at camp the whole month we’d been there, and we were barely in middle school, and obviously girls our age were supposed to care about hot TV boys, so we played along. Everyone else was upset, so I had to be upset to appropriately share in the others’ pain, but mostly I was just having fun. I didn’t take to the streets or anything myself but I enjoyed the rush of adrenaline every time I heard another cabin go up in screams because someone knew found out, and people came running in and out of our cabin like at least twenty times to make sure we knew too and that they hadn’t missed anybody. It was less that they wanted everyone to know and more that everyone wanted to witness the moment when the news broke to someone who hadn’t heard it yet. Girls who wouldn’t have given me the time of day on the Outside were desperate to keep me in the loop at camp, and for a little oddball like me this was quite the addictive thrill.

But because of this, it was also really difficult to calm the girls down and convince us Zac Efron was alive. We didn’t want to believe it: this was the biggest thing that had happened all month, and it was a lie? So a lot of girls held out in their mourning, either out of genuine conviction or just because it was fun to be so upset about something that big, and the knowledge that it was probably not true almost made it safer to engage with the idea that it could be. Schrödinger’s Zac Efron: he’s both alive and dead until camp ends and the girls can see for themselves whether or not it’s true. I’m pretty sure on the final day of camp when some girls got their phones back it was the very first thing they looked up.

But yeah, I don’t know if anything quite that nuclear ever hit camp again. It was a perfect storm. The day Zac Efron died.

The most dramatic moment during my Camp Counseling career at an all girls camp was when a girl got a letter from a friend saying that Zac Efron had died and one of her bunkmates ran out of the cabin and shouted “ZAC EFRON IS DEAD!!!!!” and the camp immediately fell into chaos girls were crying in the middle of camp and running around spreading the news everyone was yelling and the counselors had to look up wether or not Zac Efron was dead (this is a wireless camp so the girls couldn’t access the internet and check for themselves) and then get out a megaphone and be like “ZAC EFRON IS NOT DEAD PLEASE REMAIN CALM” outside of all the cabins it was insanity.

#the zac efron story #never forget #see yall at reunion when my year rolls around

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loveharlow · 1 day ago

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↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ A Not So Silent Night

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader [ more rafe content ]

SYNOPSIS & WC─•❥ [1.7k] When Rafe convinces you to have some fun in your tent during a family camping trip

WARNING(S) & A/N─•❥ based on this ask, lowkey pwp (p*rn w/o plot), smut, rough sex, slight exhibitionism, getting caught, swearing

The air around the campfire was thick with the comforting scents of pine, burning wood, and sweet, roasted marshmallows. Your family's camping trip was in full swing, and you were cozily tucked between Sarah and the roaring fire, a soft blanket draped over your shoulders.

You'd been trading embarrassing family stories, and the sound of Sarah's uninhibited laughter was one of your favorite things in the world.

"No way," Sarah snorted, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "He actually said that? God, he's even more embarrassing than I thought. Him and Kelly just broke up."

"Right?" you confirmed, grinning. "I almost died of secondhand embarrassment for him. Like, dude, do you know who my boyfriend is?"

The Cameron girl rolled her eyes, bringing her mug of hot chocolate to her lips. "Ugh. Don't remind me..." she joked, a smug grin half-hidden behind the ceramic dish.

You nudged her calf with the tip of your slipper-clad foot, shooting her a playful glare. "Don't be like that."

She just laughed, holding the warm mug. "It's not you. It's just... I can't imagine why anyone would want to date my brother. Especially you," she explained, shrugging. "Don't get me wrong, you're just way too sweet for him! I mean, he's a complete dick—"

"Badmouthing me to my girlfriend?" Your attention was pulled from Sarah when a shadow fell over both of you. The familiar scent of salt and Rafe's slightly musky cologne filled your nose. You looked up to see him standing there — a small, unamused pout on his face, his hands tucked into the pockets of the pajama pants he wore with the hoodie you'd bought him. "That's very 'Sarah' of you," he tossed at his sister. "I need to borrow my girl for a minute," he announced, his voice low and raspy.

Sarah looked between the two of you, a frown forming on her face. "Wh—No! We're talking, dude. You'll get her later."

Rafe just grimaced, tilting his head to the side. "Yeah... I wasn't asking," he informed her, rolling his eyes at Sarah before his gaze fell to you, a slight nod in your direction. "C'mon, I wanna show you somethin'."

You stuttered to find words, looking between the Cameron siblings, your shoulders squaring. "...We were kind of having a conversation, Rafe. Can it wait?" you offered, a nervous smile on your face.

Rafe's expression remained flat as he stared at you. "No," he answered bluntly. "You can gossip with my sister later. C'mon," he urged.

You shot Sarah a apologetic grimace, and she sighed. "Fine. Go. But I get to have her all day tomorrow, so find another hiking partner, asshole..." she muttered, standing from her seat and heading toward her own tent.

"Love you!" You called after her, watching the blonde walk away. She turned around, opting to walk backward as she blew you a kiss.

"Use protection!" she called over her shoulder as she turned back around, ducking to enter her tent.

Rafe held his hand out for you to take, and you let him guide you to your shared tent, the small, dome-shaped structure looking surprisingly private from the outside. The second you were both inside, he zipped the flap shut.

The air inside the tent was still and warm, a stark contrast to the cool night. He didn't say a word. He just pushed you back against the sleeping bags, a hungry look in his eyes before his lips found yours in a bruising kiss.

You found yourself laughing against his mouth. "This is what you wanted to show me?" You giggled, your hands grasping his wrists as his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into him. "Rafe, both of our families are right outside..."

"So?" he mumbled against your neck, his hands roaming over your body, sending fireworks through your veins.

A blissful haze washed over you as his kisses grew more intense. "Rafe..."

"You know you want to..." he cooed in your ear.

"...What if someone hears us?" you whined, still allowing your boyfriend to litter you with kisses. "Ward? Rose? My parents? I don't want my parents to hear their daughter having sex."

Rafe's hand found its way between your legs, his fingers brushing you through your pajama pants, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You're an adult," he chuckled. "I'm sure they know I dick you down every now and then."

"Rafe!" You scolded. "Don't be so vulgar—"

Before you could respond, Rafe's lips were on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that took your breath away. It took nothing for you to melt into his kiss, your reservations slowly fading away.

As he pulled back, only a string of saliva connecting you two, your eyes roamed his own. "...They're gonna hear us."

And Rafe just smirked, grabbing the hem of your shirt. "Guess you'd better be quiet then." He didn't give you time to respond as he tore your shirt over your head, quickly moving to unclasp your bra, tossing it into the corner of the tent.

You sat up, knees folded underneath you as you watched him rid himself of his own shirt. With one hand on your hip, Rafe guided you to lay back down on the sleeping bags as he trailed kisses down your body, all the way down until he reached the waistband of your pants.

His eyes met yours from his place below you as he hooked his fingers into the hem of your bottoms and dragged them, along with your underwear, down your legs. You watched as he bit his lip at the sight of you, throwing your pants somewhere in the spacious tent.

Rafe straightened above you before making quick work of pushing his own pants down, just enough to free himself. His eyes never left your frame as his breathing grew heavy, stroking himself with one hand as the other reached out to caress your face, gently grazing your chin.

Your heart raced in your chest as he adjusted above you, gasping lightly when the warm, wet tip of his cock made contact with your entrance, pushing into you slowly as you watched his eyes roll back.

He started slow — pulling nearly all the way out to push himself all the way back in, eliciting a breathy moan from you as your hands reached out to touch him. Rafe typically adorned a stone-hard exterior, but it was moments like this that you loved to see a more passionate, vulnerable side of him.

However, it didn't last long before his thrusts grew harder, faster, louder. Rafe's pace increased until he was practically slamming into you, your back arching off the ground as you bit your lip so hard that you were sure you drew blood.

The sound of skin slapping in the tent was already enough for anyone awake and nearby to hear. You didn't want to add blood-curdling screams to the mix.

Rafe, however, had other plans.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he thrust into you with a force that made you gasp.

"Don't do that," Rafe growled, his hips snapping against yours. "Open your mouth, baby. I wanna hear you," he moaned.

You tried to protest, shaking your head, but Rafe had a way of getting what he wanted. Using the hand that wasn't restricting yours, he pressed down on the base of your abdomen with just enough pressure to force a moan out of you, a chorus of others following. Your cries of ecstasy filled the tent as Rafe continued his relentless pace, slapping your hands away each time you attempted to quiet yourself.

It wasn't long before you felt your orgasm building, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him, desperate for release. With one final, powerful thrust, Rafe pushed you over the edge, your cries of pleasure echoing through the tent as you came undone in his arms, Rafe meeting you at the finish line.

Just as your boyfriend finished, spilling inside of you with a guttural groan, the tent flaps flew open.

"Hey, can I borrow—Oh my God!" Sarah stood at the entrance to the tent, headphones on her head and a hand now shielding her eyes as she stood practically frozen.

Rafe groaned, a snarl on his lips. Pulling a stray blanket over the two of you, he quickly pulled out and flipped over to face his sister. "Get the fuck out!"

"I'm sorry!" Sarah squealed. "Maybe lock the door next time?!" she scolded, turning around and trying to exit the tent with her eyes still closed.

"It's a tent, dumbass." Rafe rolled his eyes, watching his sister feel around the fabric for the flap. "Jesus... You're not facing us anymore. Open your goddamn eyes and leave—"

"I'm going, I'm going," she assured, pushing her way out of the tent, nearly falling on her face as she tripped over the edge of the structure. "And I said use protection!"

"Sorry!" You shouted after Sarah, shaking your head and dropping your face into your palms before lifting your face, turning to Rafe and shooting him a mean glare, swatting his bare chest. "I told you!"

Rafe couldn't contain his smile, finding some sort of amusement in the entire situation. "It's not like it's the first time," he shrugged, reaching for his phone.

You just sighed, pulling the blanket further up your bodies, the sleeping bags beneath you serving as a mattress. "Let's just be glad it was just her..."

"Yeah... I wouldn't be too sure about that." He scratched his chin, looking at his phone. Your brows furrowed, Rafe noticing your expression and tilting his phone for you to see his notifications.

Dad Son, please be mindful that this is a family trip and we can all hear you.

Wheezie Dude, some of us r trying to sleep. What r u doing???

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. "Oh my god. I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die."

Rafe let out a low chuckle, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "I'm pretty sure you just scarred her for life."

"Everyone out there heard us," you whined. "This is your fault." You pouted.

Rafe leaned down and kissed your forehead, his eyes full of affection and a touch of mischief. "They'll forget about it... eventually." He leaned back on the sleeping bag, a satisfied look on his face. "Now, are you gonna spiral all night about having to face everyone tomorrow or are you gonna sleep?"

©loveharlow.

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kiplex · 2 days ago

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⛧ LaDs Boys Night Time Routine / Sleep HCs ⛧

This came to me in a dream after I heard we were getting the sleep quality time for the 4.0 update. Low-key kind of crack HCs but God forbid I keep up my writing streak!!! Also I made the LI dividers in like 10 minutes be kind to me. I'll work out a long term solution when I do more serious multi boy HCs LMFAO

Warnings: suggestive (for Sylus) and mentions of nüdïty (for Sylus... Again)

Xavier can sleep anywhere at any time. You have a photo album on your phone titled “Xavier sleeping where he shouldn't be." You're favorite is him dozing off during a work meeting, the whole UNICORN unit posing around him

Loves a cozy cup of tea before bed, yes, you guys do have matching mugs!!

Sleeps like a log. Literally will not move, but the second you climb into bed he latches on to you and will not let go no matter how hot it is

He does panic slightly when he wakes up from a nap or the middle of the night and you aren't there. You're normally not far but he still has a slight feeling of uneasiness until you join him again.

While he doesn't snore he does that boy thing were he twitches like crazy in his sleep

Has a plethora of sleep masks still manage to misplace like half of them

Will pout if you forget to give him a goodnight kiss, who cares if he wasn't awake to feel it, how dare you neglect him like that.

Rafayel has a 20 step skin care routine he has to do before bed, which in turn has turned into a “Our 20 step skin care routine…” you guys have matching skincare headbands

Will get you guys, couples pajamas as a joke, but they're so comfy, you should wear yours too and maybe you guys can take a photo or something.. AS A JOKE OF COURSE haha… unless

He's really good about sleeping on his side of the bed, too good sometimes and will complain if you clinging to him is too hot

Sleeps with white noise of the ocean, cannot sleep without it

Rafayel loves to play with your hair while you sleep. Spooning you and braiding your hair gently, feeling your body rise and fall with your breath?? He's in heaven, he could die here and be the happiest man alive

He's a sleep talker, and a very convincing one at that. It's scary how many conversations you guys have had where he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about the next day

Claims he needs his beauty rest, but will turn around and stay up to binge Love Island with you

Zayne is the type to get up in the middle of the night for one of two things, finish work after you begged him to go to but, or on the opposite end of the spectrum, sneak sweets while you are asleep

He is also a sleep talker and a sleep walker. More of a sleep walker though. You've caught him getting dressed for work on multiple occasions, thinking he got called in for an emergency at the hospital but a few minutes later he'll flop down on the bed again.

He also does that boy thing where he twitches a whole lot in his sleep, claims he's never done that before in his life

He's absolutely the best to cuddle with during the summer, his evol makes him run a lot colder. During the winter?? Eh not so much, but you do it anyway

He does value his space when you sleep together, but if you initiate cuddling he's not complaining. He relishes in it honestly.

Do you have insomnia?? Zayne may be a cardiologist but girly, he's still a doctor!!! You already know he's doing everything under the sun to try and solve your sleep issues.

He's the type to really value sleep health and promote deep REM sleep. Has the coziest possible bed and pillows. Bonus points for all of them being tempur-pedic

Sylus sleeps in matching silk pajamas set or completely nude; no in-between

Always humming you to sleep, you always say he’ll make a great dad some day

Loves watching you do your skincare routine, he's starting buy you the expensive Korean skincare products for you, he even caves and starts using some night cream

Always says goodnight to Luke and Kieran, he's such a mother hen sometimes

We know he doesn't sleep much, but will humor you if you ask him to sleep with you. He does pull an Edward Cullen and likes watching you sleep so peacefully in his arms

Can't sleep? Great, Sylus will stay up with you, maybe take you boxing if you need to burn some energy. If you still have energy after that… he finds other ways to expend your energy 😏

When Sylus does sleep… he SNORES oh my god he snores. Should probably have a cpap machine but would definitely deny he snores at all

Caleb will deny he's tired but as soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out. You have a firm theory that during his DAA days, they trained him to be like that

He is a skincare routines worst nightmare. He canonically has dry skin and dry lips. Does not understand for the life of him why you load your face up with lotions and potions. BUT he will do a sheet mask with you from time to time

He always jokes about getting a plane shaped bed to the point where you low-key think it isn't a joke anymore.

He is such a cuddly man. Oh my god he is so dramatic when you are on your side of the bed. He'll pull you toward him, make grabby hands at you, pout and whine that you're too far and you hate him!!!!

Caleb SNORES so loud. Not all the time but when he's especially exhausted, typically after multiple days on the fleet. He wears those nose strips to try and help but… it is what it is.

Suffers from chronic nightmares; boy can't catch a break even when he's sleeping. He's got it under control for the most part but when they're especially bad, he'll sometimes wake you up and ask you to hold him.

He is a low-key blanket hog during the winter. He'll wake up and be like “Pips why are you shivering??" Girl, you took all the blankets??? Will warm you back up with his body heat though, so it's fine.

You can find my master list here (I promise, I write better stuff than this)

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alinathinkstoomuch · 1 day ago

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ONE RULE AT A TIME

pairing: aaron hotchner x lawyer!reader summary: you and hotch have barely had any alone time—and he just can’t wait (no, like literally, he cannot wait) to get his hands on you, based on this request. warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, oh boy here we go... semi-public p in v sex, public fingering, public orgasm, slight corruption & free use kinks, extraaa horny hotch, slight d/s undertones, r has to sit through dinner with come in her underwear (yay!!), established relationship. word count: 3.8k (lol)

✧ masterlist | ✧ alina's 1k bar

You considered it rude to leave the table mid-conversation.

It was one of those rules, leftover from a mother who believed proper manners could carry a girl further than ambition. Elbows off the table. Napkin in your lap. Don’t interrupt. Don’t leave before dessert.

Of course, those rules technically didn’t apply here. Not with this group. These weren’t stiff-lipped dinner guests or white-gloved patrons of a country club. These were your friends. Or, more accurately, your colleagues—though you only ever called them that when you needed distance.

Still, the habit lingered. Your spine straightened every time someone new spoke, you nodded politely, you laughed at all the right cues. But it was getting increasingly harder to feign interest in anything anyone was saying, not with how close Aaron was sitting next to you.

It was criminal, really, how little time you’d had alone with him lately. Between your caseload, his travel schedule, and the world’s general refusal to accommodate a few uninterrupted minutes, tonight had been the first time in weeks you’d managed to make it into the same photograph.

Unfortunately, the night you could both conjure up happened to involve other people. Talkative, never-quite-leaving people.

And you were trying your hardest to remain composed, executing your best poker-face saved for the courtroom to keep your thoughts and facial expressions appropriate. But then you felt Aaron’s hand brush your thigh under the table, and you forgot what someone was saying about….something.

You didn’t look at him right away, you knew better. Instead, you set your fork down and reached for your wine glass, agreeing to God knows what conversation was happening. The question could’ve been ‘Have you ever committed perjury?’ and there you were, nodding along because the man you couldn’t wait to get alone was currently trying to initiate foreplay at the dinner table.

His hand never paused, fingers tracing idle shapes above your knee, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake like breadcrumbs to your undoing. The room began to feel violently hot, and unfortunately there didn’t seem to be enough air for everyone to share. You reached for a cream napkin, blotting your mouth but also using it as a barrier from everyone else.

This wasn’t you. You had rules, standards, a personal code built on discretion, discipline, and never fooling around in public with a man who could get you to confess to crimes with just his fingers. You turned towards him, napkin still raised.

“Aaron,” you warned. “Stop that.”

He did just the opposite, his fingers pressing down a little harder now.

You had never been the kind of woman to lose her head. You didn’t do public groping during candlelit dinner while someone ranted about office politics. You followed your rules. You were judicious, you were composed, you were the kind of person who scheduled spontaneity.

And yet, here you were, pressing your thighs together under the table while Aaron Hotchner slowly pushed every moral you’d ever held into a shredder with one hand and a neutral expression.

You turned to him again. “I’m serious. You need to stop.”

The bastard had the gall to tilt his head and furrow his brows like he couldn’t possibly imagine what you meant.

“I mean it. Quit that,” you chided, setting your napkin down.

And his hand did move. He lifted it from your thigh and returned it to his side of the table. You exhaled—relief, technically—but it came threaded with something that felt suspiciously like disappointment.

Because yes, this was about professionalism, about decency, about not letting the I-haven’t-seen-you-in-too-long hormones reduce you both to a cautionary tale in public misconduct. Still…you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of that spark he had managed to light in a place it had no business burning.

Though you didn’t have time to dwell or dissect your traitorous feelings before Aaron was abruptly standing and pulling your chair back for you, mumbling a curt, “Excuse us,” to the table.

You looked around, mouth wide as your legs brought you up. “I’m so sorry,” you said, passing a look to everyone at the table who didn’t look the least bit fazed. “Back in a sec.”

Aaron’s hand found your wrist, his misbehaving fingers curling around yours as he started pulling you towards the back of the bar. You were so flustered your legs could barely keep up, tripping over themselves every second step like they were also struggling to process what was happening.

“Where are we going?” you hissed, stumbling slightly as he rounded a corner. “You can’t just pull us away from dinner mid-conversation. What’s gotten into you today?”

“You looked a little hot,” he muttered, glancing back as he steered you past the bathrooms and down a corridor that was definitely for staff only.

“Because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!”

He continued weaving through the turns and bends until you reached a narrow staircase that looked like it was in dire need of a health inspection.

“Think it’s this way,” he mumbled to himself, and all you could do was follow as he all but dragged you up the least stable stairs your feet had ever stood on.

“You are insane. We shouldn’t even be up here. You’re going to get us banned and I come here for drinks more often than I go home for dinner.”

“You come here to network,” he corrected.

You glared at the back of his head, noting his deliciously broad shoulders under the navy suit jacket he was wearing. “That’s what I said. Which is all the more reason we shouldn’t be on anything that’s not the ground floor.”

You reached the top of the stairs, and Aaron let go of your hand to use both of his to open up the fire exit door planted at the end of the stairwell. It opened with a creak of protest before you felt a gush of cold air greet you.

“What is your pla—” You didn’t get the chance to finish before Aaron was manhandling you again, hungry hands ruching up your dress as they groped all they could reach.

“Aaron, we can’t do this here,” you breathed, head tilting up to the sky, the stars above shining down like innocent witnesses to your wildly inappropriate, excessively horny boyfriend.

“Missed you.” He nipped your neck, nose brushing the pendant that rested on your collarbone. “So much.”

“I missed you too, fuck, but we can’t possibly do this here. Let’s just—wait until we get home.”

He grabbed your hand, bringing it down to his crotch. “Does this feel like it can wait?”

You should’ve pulled your hand back, should’ve ignored the feeling between your legs, but your immediate response was to curl your fingers around him. “This is so inappropriate.”

“I know.” His mouth was on your neck again and you felt him nudge and grind into your hand, then into your thigh, the hard press of his cock knocking all your sensible principles loose one by one. “You smell so fucking good.”

“You’re not listening,” you tried, weakly, because that’s what you were supposed to say. “I’m trying to be rational.”

“And I’m trying to make you feel good.” He grinned into your skin. “Guess we’re both busy.”

You made contact with the brick wall, just as Aaron pushed you up against it, hand dipping beneath your dress.

“We’ll get caught.”

He kissed your jaw. “No one comes up here.”

“We could get arrested.”

Another kiss. “I’d make sure you didn’t.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” you muttered, but your voice dropped when his thumb pressed down onto your clothed clit.

“If you really want me to stop, say the word.” The word. Your safe word. Not that you’d ever had to use it before, because Aaron had never decided to pounce on you on a restaurant rooftop like the idea of waiting for a cab repulsed him.

You said nothing.

Little protests had left your lips when his hand landed on your thigh, but now that you had the chance to actually make all of this stop, you didn’t. You couldn’t. And you knew it was wrong. So deeply wrong and anyone could walk in, and there could be cameras and—

“Turn around,” he instructed, taking half a step back to slip off his jacket, his white shirt almost glowing in the dark.

“What?”

“Against the wall.”

He was already guiding your hips, manoeuvring you to spin your back to him. Your palms braced the scratchy brick wall, the one you were about to get very well acquainted with if you were to let Aaron have his way with you. Which, let’s be honest, has happened since the moment you walked into this place.

“What if someone comes up?” you asked quietly, pausing when you heard the buckle of his belt come undone, like that sound was your final chance to put a stop to all of this.

His response came in the form of hoisting your dress up, his chest keeping your back warm. “Can feel the heat through your thighs.”

Your breathing was already ragged and he hadn't actually touched you yet, not properly. You hated how easy it was for him to reduce you to this.

“You ready?” he murmured, fingers finding the waistband of your underwear.

You nodded, barely.

“Use your words.”

“…Yes.”

You folded into the wall, forehead grazing stone as he slipped your panties halfway down your legs. One of his hands rested on your hip, while the other gripped his cock, and you could feel the motion of him pumping himself a few times before his tip nudged between your thighs, thick and wet.

Normally, he would tease, drag it through your pussy, because he knew you loved hearing the lewd sounds of how wet the both of you were. Loved the feeling of his veins burning your clit. But tonight, he just pushed in, the stretch knocking the breath from your lungs.

It had been over 2 months since you'd felt him. 73 days, if you wanted to be exact. And somehow, he felt bigger than you remembered.

“Christ,” he groaned, forehead resting on your shoulder as he sank deeper. “You feel so fucking good. Tightest you’ve ever been.”

He pulled out just to slam back in.

“Can’t believe I waited this long. Should’ve had you like this the second we got in the car.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-moan, your body jerking with the next thrust. “I would’ve killed you.”

“Look at you, you’ve been fighting me all night just to end up like this.”

And he was right, which annoyingly, was the case with him nine times out of ten. You fought him because that’s what you’d taught yourself to do. Fight everyone in some form or another, directly or indirectly. It wasn’t even a conscious decision you made anymore, just part of your operating system.

But then came Aaron.

He was someone who didn’t hold back, who didn’t let you win arguments just to keep the peace. He pushed you, gently of course, and you could tell he took some smug satisfaction in challenging you when he knew you were wrong (a rarity). You hated it at first, the feeling of being matched, but also of being completely understood. It made you feel exposed, like he’d see your true colours and run. But instead, he was fucking you against a brick wall while your friends laughed over drinks downstairs.

Your fingers scraped the brick and your knees buckled when his hand slid between your thighs again. “Aaron—”

“Oh, you’re close. You’re gonna come just like this, aren’t you?”

“I swear to God—”

“Right here?” he asked, his fingers dragging slow circles. “Where anyone could walk up and see how good I’m making you feel?”

The noise you made was inaudible. A whimper, a moan, a curse all jammed into one.

“Thought you had rules,” he mocked. “Thought you didn’t do things like this.”

“I don’t.”

“No?” He pinched your clit, and you pressed your forehead harder into the wall, teeth clenched, your thighs squeezing around his arm, like you could trap him there or stop him—you weren’t sure anymore.

Every part of your body felt like it was on fire, the breeze of the night doing you zero favours. You were close, so close, and there was nothing left to give him. You couldn’t match his pace nor his efforts, all you could do was stand there and take it.

The moment his fingers quickened and his strokes pushed deeper, your hand flew over your mouth, muffling a moan, then another. And before you knew it a cry was spilling into your palm as you came, toes curling in your heels, your entire body going rigid.

“Aaron,” you cried out, feeling both of his hands move to your hips, holding you in place.

“I know, honey,” he panted. “Almost there.”

He kept going, hips rutting in you as he chased the high you were still coming down from. Your cheek was pressed to the brick now, one heel slipping as your body fought to recover while he kept moving.

“Just a little more. You can take it.”

And you did, until his thrusts slowed, a series of curses lacing into your hair as he pushed himself flush against you. You felt him twitch and spill inside, his thumb tracing soft circles into your hip like a silent thank you.

He waited a minute, maybe less, before he was pulling out of you. Your brain scrambled to organise the next steps, cleaning up screaming the loudest, right before you felt Aaron’s calloused hands around your thighs, tugging your underwear back into place.

“What are you doing?” you managed, looking down as he adjusted the fabric for you.

“You’re wearing them,” he said, smoothing your dress back down over your hips. “Just like this.”

You spun to face him, watching as he fussed with his belt. “This is obscene, Aaron. I’m going to the bathroom to clean up and then I’m going home.”

“Don’t be dramatic. You’ve already made it this far and you know it’s rude to leave early.”

"You expect me to just go back out there like this?"

He slipped his jacket on and then leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. "I expect you to sit there, make conversation, and pretend you're not still full of me."

Your mouth fell open. If your mother had been there, she’d have told you to close it before a fly flew in.

Aaron smiled gently, snaking a hand around the small of your back. “You’ll be fine.”

You had no choice but to move, one foot in front of the other as Aaron held the bulky rooftop door open for you. You took the stairs down far slower than you went up them, wincing with every step. You could feel exactly what he’d left inside you beginning to leak, trickling slowly from the cotton of your panties and down the inside of your thigh.

Once you made it to the bottom you paused, glancing over your shoulder just as he reached you. “Head up, honey,” Aaron cooed. “You’re still the most put-together one at the table.”

You rolled your eyes but straightened up anyway because you’d be damned if your posture had to suffer.

Everyone looked like they hadn’t moved an inch back at the table, and Aaron, ever the gentleman, pulled your seat back. You did your best to sit in it as graciously as you could, trying to keep everything to yourself. You crossed your legs, which made it worse, so you uncrossed them. Then you sat forward. Leaned back. Nothing helped.

“Dessert menus came,” one of your friends said, sliding an embossed card your way. “But we figured we’d wait for you two.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” you smiled, still trying to get comfortable. You started reading through the options, gladly taking the distraction. And you thought, foolishly, that you might at least make it through dessert with some semblance of normalcy. That was until Aaron’s hand landed on your thigh. Again.

You stiffened, eyes snapping to him, but he was mid-conversation with someone across the table, something about funding, completely unbothered, like he wasn’t slowly trying to finger you into oblivion at the table. You moved in your seat, tring to squeeze your legs together but the pressure only made it worse, your underwear still damp and clinging across skin that was already far too sensitive.

It made no difference. He just laughed at a joke someone made, all while his fingers traced lazy patterns from your knee to the hem of your dress. Your heeled foot found his under the table, and you gave it a kick. He looked at you then, all smiley.

“Breathe,” he said quietly and entirely unhelpfully. “Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“You’re crazy,” you muttered, your thighs already tensing as his hand slid higher, swallowed by your dress.

His fingers pressed the soaked material of your underwear, and you dropped your head, hand coming up to your temple like you were nursing a headache. He leaned in then, nodding towards the dessert menu before whispering, “So good for me, sweetheart.”

You disguised a whimper as a cough and felt his fingers dip beneath the fabric. You bit your bottom lip hard enough to taste blood.

“Listen to yourself,” he mumbled, right as he started circling your clit again. And you heard it, exactly what he was referring to. The wet sound of him mixed with your arousal, embarrassingly loud in your own ears even over the clink of cutlery and conversation. He was using one of your biggest turn-ons against you and you hated how well he knew it…hated even more how well it was working, that familiar feeling already making itself known in the pit of your stomach.

Orange was your safe word. All you had to do was mention oranges—how they’re in season, how they’re not, ask if anyone liked marmalade, hell, just casually bring up vitamin C. No one would question it. Aaron would recognise it immediately and he’d stop.

But the syllables wouldn’t come. The tip of your tongue was useless, and your brain had apparently filed for resignation. So instead you shifted in your seat, spreading your legs a little wider. You lifted your eyes to meet his, seeing what looked close to pride.

Across the table, someone asked you a question and you nodded vaguely. You hoped it was a yes or no question because you absolutely could not be trusted to speak. Your mouth was too dry, and the rest of you was, well…not.

Your hand reached for the cool glass of water, and you wrapped your fingers around it, absently smearing through the beads of condensation. But you didn’t lift it, for fear of dropping it straight into your lap and dragging every pair of eyes to exactly where Aaron’s fingers were now knuckle-deep inside you.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a second too long as he fucked into you, slowly. Not enough to push you over the edge, but far too much to pretend like you were functioning normally.

“Aaron,” you breathed, eyelids heavy, forehead clammy with sweat.

“Need me to go faster?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, focusing on the simple mechanics of breathing in and out, as if oxygen alone might be enough to hold you together. You just had to make it five more minutes. Five more minutes without gasping or moaning or knocking a water glass into your lap and revealing everything.

But then his fingers curled just right and your hips lurched forward helplessly. Aaron’s arm bumped the underside of the table, making the plates clatter and shift, not that anyone seemed to notice or if they did, they were polite enough to not comment.

You dropped your hand to your lap, nails digging crescent moons into your thigh. Someone across the table laughed, and then someone else followed. Apparently there had been an endless stream of jokes while you’d been too busy getting off on your boyfriend’s thick fingers to notice.

“Are you alright?” one of your friends asked.

“Yeah—yeah, all good.” You nodded, forcing a smile that was too tight. “Just a little hot, that’s all.”

Aaron hummed beside you, low and pleased, as though your answer had been for him and rewarded you below the table, curling his fingers deeper. You let out a sharp gasp, eyes snapping to the friend who’d asked if you were okay, checking to see if she was still watching. She wasn’t. You relaxed, only slightly, because your second orgasm was right around the corner.

You felt it in the way one of your heels had slipped off under the table, your toes curling against the floor. In the way one hand stayed pressed into your thigh, while the other clung to the edge of the table like your life depended on it.

“I’m gonna–”

“Shhh,” Aaron hushed you, leaning into your shoulder. To anyone else, it would look like the two of you were simply having a private conversation, huddled close to hear each other over the noise, leaving no clue, aside from your frantic breathing, that his hand was still buried inside you.

“I can feel you clenching around me,” he murmured. “So fucking desperate. What would they say if they knew you were dripping down my wrist right now?”

That was all it took. You were already close and he nudged you over with just a handful of syllables. Your eyes squeezed shut, like a secret you couldn’t hold anymore. Your breath left you in a wobbly exhale, and you forced your head to stay upright, even as your muscles went soft, your body completely spent.

You could still feel your pulse pounding in your ears but you blinked through the heat behind your eyes, trying to calm yourself with shallow sips of air. Aaron withdrew his hand, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

“You okay?” he asked, without any trace of smugness.

You nodded, a little slow. “Yeah. Just… give me a second.”

“I’ll call us a cab,” he said gently. “We’ll take the desserts to go.”

He started to stand, but your hand landed on his thigh, stopping him. “I’m going to need some help,” you muttered, partly because you were afraid your legs might give out… and partly because you weren’t brave enough to look at the state of the chair.

Aaron leaned down, placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and whispered, “Okay, honey. I’ll come get you once the car is here.”

And then he was gone, walking towards the waiter you’d had that evening while simultaneously pulling his phone from his pocket to call a cab. That gave you a ten-minute window to come up with an excuse for why you were leaving early, which, you noted with a vague sense of resignation, was just another one of your own rules you’d managed to break tonight.

You adjusted your dress, avoided looking at the chair, and mentally crossed dignity off the list of things you’d be leaving with.

At least the dessert was boxed.

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sadclowncentral · 8 months ago

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while i was trying to wade through the large amounts of people trying to leave the central subway station, everyone abruptly came to a halt in front of the subway turnstiles. two french girls had misunderstood the tap-out process, and one of them was now stuck behind the gate. as i was wracking my brain on how to explain the tap-in tap-out process of the milan metro to both of them with my rudimentary french while they both got increasingly upset at the closed gate between them, a young teenager suddenly pushed me to the side.

i was just about to give him my most scathing disgruntled glare when he took out his ticket and, after realizing they had no common language, started gesticulating wildly in front of the french girl left behind. he pointed at the ticket, then at her, and very seriously said: “on three, we go.” she nodded, and after he counted to three, holding up his fingers so there could be no confusion, they sprinted through the gate together, giggling profusely afterwards as if they had just pulled off the heist of the century,

it was just a small moment during the morning commute. but i realized then and there that the time i had spent trying to intellectualize the problem and wondering if my lack of language skills would be awkward the situation could have already been resolved. and that while i had been mad about being pushed aside, the teenager got it exactly right: no questions, no fear or shyness, just direct action to help where you can and rushing there to do so. i think about him every time now when i run to lift someone’s pram or ask a lost looking person if they need my help despite the fear of being rude. on three, we go.

#i have started to not use my headphones on my commute and the abundance of #beautiful happenstances it has brought to me conversations held overheard interactions i have had #it grounds me in the right there right now more than any mindfullness exercise #ON THREE WE GO!

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ma-lark-ey · 2 months ago

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every time a fanfic author remembers Leo Valdez is actually incredibly intelligent & an engineering prodigy, an ai scraper gets burned at the stake & an angel gains its wings.

#lark says #pjo hoo toa #pjo #hoo #leo valdez #i could go into heavy detail #but we dont have the time to deconstruct fanon leo #and the fandom aint ready for that conversation anyways

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months ago

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I'm not going back to Gusu with you.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #Those last two high effort comics where just a warm up for this masterpiece. My true magnum opus.#I was originally going to do this gag as a 'alternate version of comic 155'#Then I realized that they have the 'Come back to Gusu with me' conversation twice. So here we are!#I did consider having WWX say 'I'm not going back to gusu with you' in the comic for the better plot accuracy.#I'm invoking the rule of silly by having Wei Wuxian read between the lines of 'Come back to Gusu with me'.#Because it does feel like a confession! It is a confession of 'I care about your safety and I worry for what may happen.'#It is also poorly articulated. You can't really blame WWX for reading into it as 'LWJ is just another person trying to control me.'#The relationship between them is not good! It is two parties who genuinely want to be closer with each other but cannot communicate it.#You can't really have what makes these two work so well as a dynamic without the past history of:#“Back then I really wanted to be your friend.” They are a *missed connection*!#WWX reaches out and LWJ rejects him. And now when LWJ reaches out it is WWX who pushes them apart.#It is a tragedy about the consequences of being out of tandem and realizing what you want far too late.#The momentum of WWX's downfall is far to fast to reverse now. It's a 'When' not ''if' question.#Back to your normal style of PD-MDZS next update. Thank you for reading!

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hexalt · 2 days ago

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ID under the cut

[ID: the Abstract of a study that reads, “People with Long COVID, myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS), and other complex chronic disorders consistently report having difficulty obtaining effective and compassionate medical care and being disbelieved, judged, gaslighted, and even dismissed by healthcare professionals. We believe that these adversarial interactions and language are more likely to arise when healthcare professionals are confronting complex chronic illnesses without proper training, diagnostic biomarkers, or FDA-approved therapies. These problematic conversations between practitioners and patients often involve specific words and phrases-termed the "never-words" —can leave patients in significant emotional distress and negatively impact the clinician-patient relationship and recovery. Seeking to prevent these destructive interactions, we review key literature on best practices for difficult clinical conversations and discuss the application of these practices for people with Long COVID, ME/CFS, dysautonomia, and other complex chronic disorders. We provide recommendations for alternative, preferred phrasing to the never-words, which can enhance therapeutic relationship and chronic illness patient care via compassionate, encouraging, and non-judgmental language.”

A three column table titled, “Table 1. Never-words, their impact, and suggested alternatives.”

The headers are, “Never-words,” “explanation and impact,” and “alternative.”

The first row is "You don't look sick,” “Many patients may appear healthy, but feel very sick with various symptoms, including fatigue and pain,” and “Please refrain from commenting on their appearance.”

The next row is, "You need to stay positive,” “Saying this to patients with debilitating symptoms with limited treatment implies that the patient did not stay positive or that the patient s attitude is to blame for feeling or staying sick,” and “I know it can feel discouraging to feel so sick, and especially for so long. We will work on this together".

The next row is, "At least it's not cancer,” “Minimizing symptoms and disabilities is not well-received by patients who are suffering with non-terminal, but debilitating, and disabling conditions,” and “Comparing diseases to make a patient feel better is a strategy that is best avoided, since it usually has the opposite impact.”

The next row is, "Learn to live with this,” “While this may be practical advice, many patients have already adjusted to living with their illness, but they want to live better and be more functional,” and “I know this illness can really disrupt your life. What did you do in order to adjust to this?"

The next row is, "Good news: Your tests are all normal,” “This is good news for medical professionals, but patients may not care about the numbers or test results if they feel sick. This may also imply to patients that because their tests are normal, they have no reason to feel sick,” and “The tests we have run so far are not showing any abnormalities, and the good news is that we have excluded certain conditions based on the results of these tests.”

The next row is, "Many people have it worse,” “Deflecting the patient's suffering can be perceived as gaslighting by the sufferer,” and “Please refrain from comparing patient's diseases and experiences.”

The next row is, "Have you tried (lifestyle measures: yoga, going for a walk, diet, etc?),” “Many patients have already tried various lifestyle measures without benefits and are seeking further treatment from healthcare professionals, not recommendations of the same lifestyle measures,” and “What are the things you have tried that have or have not helped you?”

The next row is, "You feel sick because you are ___ (psychological label: anxious, depressed, stressed),” “Many patients with chronic illness do have comorbid depression, anxiety, PTSD, and other psychiatric disorders, but in many patients, it is not an explanation nor a justification for why they feel ill. Further, it is important to note that people living with a chronic complex condition experience many losses due to having that condition,” and “If you are suspecting significant psychological or psychiatric comorbidities, please refer your patient to a mental health professional to address these issues.”

The next row is, "You feel sick because you are ___ (fitness label: deconditioned, overweight, underweight, out of shape),” “Many patients have been previously healthy and active, and many patients want to restart exercising and lead an active lifestyle but cannot due to fatigue, pain, and post-exertional malaise,” and “Please refrain from commenting on the patient's fitness level or body habits. A referral to a physical therapist with expertise in chronic fatigue may be helpful.”

The next row is, "You feel sick because you ___ (hormonal status: perimenopausal, menopausal, postmenopausal, postpartum, pregnant, menstruating, ovulating),” “Many patients with Long COVID, MECES, and other chronic disorders are women who can often differentiate between hormonal symptoms and symptoms of chronic disease. Additionally, hormonal influence on symptoms is well-documented but is not an explanation for the cause of the underlying disease,” and “Please refrain from commenting on the patient's hormonal status. A referral to a gynecologist or endocrinologist might be appropriate if there are concerns of hormonal abnormalities or need for hormonal supplementation.”

The next row is, “"You need to (instruction as cures: lose / gain weight, start exercising, get fresh air, get out of the house/bed, get a job, get a hobby, start dating etc.),” “While a healthy lifestyle is important, the patient did not choose to stop it: the lifestyle changed as a result of the illness. Additionally, while lifestyle measures are important, they are unlikely to cure or effectively treat the underlying medical condition,” and, "When you feel better, we will work together toward a common goal of improved quality of life and a healthier lifestyle".

The next row is, "You look too (appearances: good, young, skinny, pretty) to be sick,” “Comments on appearances are inappropriate because patients with chronic illness may not look sick like patients from with acute illness. Many actually hide their ill-appearing looks, especially when seeing a healthcare professional,” and “Please refrain from commenting on patient's appearance.”

The next row is, "We don't have any treatment for your illness,” “While this may be true for some illnesses, given no FDA-approved therapies, symptomatic treatment is available, and the patient should not be made to feel like they are being abandoned by the medical team,” and “We will talk about the available treatments we have that can make you feel better".

The next row is, "You need to stop thinking about your symptoms so much,” “In our experience, improved symptom control results in many patients improving their function and decreasing the negative thoughts and feelings about their symptoms. In those patients who continue to perseverate about their symptoms, psychological support, and cognitive-behavioral therapy may be appropriate,” and "You have good awareness of your symptoms. I'm wondering if we can come up with a way for you to easily track them, so we that we can see the small changes when you begin to feel better".

The next row is, "You have to find something productive to do with your time,” “This statement assumes that patients are bored or have too much time on their hands, whereas, for most patients, having complex chronic illnesses is time- and energy-consuming and may be equivalent to having a full-time job managing disease and medical care. Additionally, many patients are not physically and/or cognitively well enough to be productive,” and “Try to distract yourself with doing pleasurable and meaningful things that you can still do for short periods of time".

The final row is, “Don't confuse your Google search with my medical degree,” “This statement has become popular among healthcare professionals, given various online information platforms and social media groups that patients use to obtain medical information. However, we find that many patients with complex chronic illnesses had to become educated in their disorder out of necessity, given limited help from medical professionals,” and “I am glad you're reading about your illness and educating yourself on possible tests and treatments. Thank you for bringing this information to me. I will look through it and let you know my thoughts".

Unusual but sympathetic paper:

Language Matters: What Not to Say to Patients with Long COVID, Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Other Complex Chronic Disorders

https://www.mdpi.com/1660-4601/22/2/275

#healthcare #ref #ableism #chronic illness #covid19 #mecfs #long covid #dysautonomia

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months ago

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“Did you know that shrimps…”

Tim leaned in, poorly hidden eagerness splayed across his face. A clue that Danny and Phantom were dating?

“Are super delicious?” Danny mumbled, ducking his head to hide his impish grin. Tim exhaled, disappointed, and leaned back to observe. Danny currently had his arm elbow deep in Jason’s chest, the older man grimacing at the weird feeling of being phased through.

“You done?”

“Almost. This is a multiple session kind of thing though, since the corrupted ectoplasm's not only in your body, it's actively trying to fuse with your DNA. Like, a really fucked up virus with virtually no cure."

"No cure?!" Dick's panic was only barely suppressed. "But I thought you said you could help with that?"

"Yeah, I mean, how do you cure death? Everything has to end eventually." Danny said practically, before drawing a bit more tainted ectoplasm out. He stealthily replaced it with a cleaner source, a shot of ecto-dejecto he had absorbed as Phantom but didn't assimilate. "But don't worry, you're not dying again yet. You'll just become even more liminal."

"More?"

"Yeah. You were, by definition, a liminal. Now you'll just have more access to the traits- more in tune with your emotions, night vision, and a minor ability to manipulate ecto."

"I'm sorry, can we circle back on the fact that pit water is trying to fuse with my DNA?" Jason stressed. Danny took his hand out, treatment complete, and dusted them off.

"You don't have to worry about that either, since you've got a magic immune system in the form of... swords?" Danny’s brows furrowed, his senses making sense of the shape of magic.

"The All-Blades are cutting off pit water access." Jason sounded done. Exasperated at where he was in life... but really not all too surprised.

"...Sure?" Danny shrugged. The halfa has seen weirder shit than magic swords.

"Wait, you have magic?!" Dick reached over to grasp Jason's shoulder to shake him. Jason knocked his hands off, scowl becoming more prominent.

"Yeah, picked it up a while ago."

"And you didn't tell us?!"

In lieu of an answer, Jason summoned the All Blades and stabbed Dick, who yelped before realizing they just phased through him.

"Oh, you should use those more. They're purifying the ecto at a smaller quantity, but some is still better than none, right?" Danny said, pleasantly surprised. He ignored Dick’s outraged spluttering. “How interesting.”

Tim gathered his open jaw just to cheekily ask, "So, Jason's a magical girl? Usagi?"

Jason raised the one of the blades threateningly at Tim, who remained unfazed after watching them slide through Dick’s shoulder without leaving a trace of damage.

Danny laughed, "Hah! Nah, more like Madoka? If those are All-Blades, he’s supposed to kill evil with them…”

"Fuck off." Jason grumbled. Dick poked at the sword going through his shoulder in fascination. "Stop that."

"My baby brother is magical and he didn't tell meeeeeee!" Wailed Dick, flopping over Jason’s back like dead weight, hand clutched to his imaginary pearls as he swooned. Jason groaned, dismissing the blades to shove Dick off of him.

"Oh my god, this is why."

“Wait, have you tried stabbing Joker with them? If anyone’s pure evil, it’ll be that guy, right? No, but you’re a civilian… so you might get hurt,” Danny mumbled, huffing a grin as Jason gained a thoughtful look. Guess Danny knows what Red Hood’s gonna try next.

Tim ignored his dumbass brothers, finally done with the subtle tactics. Plus, he has to cut Danny off before he gives Jason any more bright ideas.

“You know, there’s been a rumor going around,” he started, only to get cut off by team Phantom’s impeccable timing. Danny’s open laptop rang with the blaring tones of a group call. The two idiots in the back stopped squabbling with each other, quieting down with interest.

“Oops, gimme a second.” Danny hurried to click the join call button, connecting to the video call. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe!” Tucker said brightly. In the background, Tucker could see Jason mouthing “babe?” to Tim, who shrugged. Dick’s face flashed into something intense before slipping back to its normal harmless facade.

“Sup, loverboy?” Sam chimed in, looking smug. “How’s my favorite boyfriend doing?”

Danny, leader of the gaslight gatekeep girlboss brainwave, naturally slipped into the banter. “Are you saying that ‘cause Tucker ate beef jerky in front of you?”

“Worse. He snuck a tourist t-shirt into my closet. My parents had a fit when they came to visit.”

“I said I was sorry, babe!” Tucker continued, looking actually regretful. Ah, this was something he actually did, as a prank.

“Whatever. Who’s the peanut gallery behind you, loverboy?” Sam buffed her nails, clearly in the middle of reapplying her signature nail polish.

Danny grinned. “Aweeee, is that the color shifting polish I got you? So you do love me!”

“We’re dating.”

If they hadn’t gotten the hint now, Danny would have to rescind their whole world’s best detectives titles.

“That’s our Sam, Danny. Prickly like a hedgehog but allll squishy on the inside.” Tucker snickered. “Seriously though, introduce us.”

Danny backed away from the camera. “This is Jason, Tim, and Dick. Guys, meet my wonderful boyfriend and girlfriend, Tucker and Sam.”

“Hi,” the three vigilantes chorused, looking awkward. Dick broke out of the atmosphere pretty quickly, used to controlling the mood.

“I’m Dick!”

“I’m sure,” drawled Sam. “Nice to meet you, even if we’ve met before.”

“You have?” Tucker and Danny asked.

“Yeah, at the galas. I doubt you’ll remember me.” Sam grimaced. “I was the miserable one in the pink frills.”

“Sam Mason?” Tim asked.

“Yep.”

The boys winced. “Rough.” Jason sympathized.

“Oh, yeah. Danny, how goes wooing Phantom?” Sam asked loudly, looking like she'd rather be discussing anything but the frilled monstrosity that haunted her nightmares.

“Oh, good! I think he’s warming up to me!”

“Ugh, babe, you fabulous fuck, why are you so charming? Why Phantom?” Tucker complained. Danny grinned.

“Come on, nerd, even you have to admit he’s hot.” Sam drawled, looking entertained.

“And majorly cool,” Danny chimed in, with a grin. Wow, Sam must really want Dr. Isley’s number. That, or she’s having a blast fucking with the peanut gallery. Their eyes were bouncing back and forth between Danny and the screen like they were at a tennis match. Or both. It's probably both.

“It’s so not cool to date one of my exes.” Tucker whined. “Plus, you know what he’s like.”

“What’s he like?” Dick asked, leaning in.

“Yeah, Danny won’t tell us anything,” Tim followed up seamlessly.

“Phantom? Hot. So. Hot. Super romantic too.”

"And an emotional mess. You'd never believe what-"

"Okay, seriously, it was one time!" He broke Tucker's system once, and he never let it go. Danny never got a break around here.

"Wait, if you liked him so much, why'd you break up with him?" Jason asked Sam. In Danny's peripherals, he could see Dick updating a group chat. It was going, as they say, swimmingly.

"Obviously I liked Danny more. But having all of them isn't too bad of an idea." Sam leaned back, looking as powerful as she normally does.

"But did it have to be Phantom?" Tucker sulked impressively. Then his eyes finally wandered to Tim. "Oh my god, Tim Drake. Danny, why don't you woo him?! Hey, Mr. Drake, are you interested in dating Danny? He brings terrible puns, smoking looks, and makes killer dinners. All you have to do in exchange is let me pick your brains."

Damn it, Danny knew Tucker was going to pull something like this.

"Uh-huh?" Tim flushed as his brothers cackled at his expense. "Sure..? Wait, what- I mean-"

"Sorry, Timsy. You're gonna have to fight Phantom for my hand. Considering you have no combat experience and Phantom's undead... rough, man."

"Danny, if you don't date him, I will," Tucker solemnly swore.

"Hey, get your grubby paws away from my little brother!" Dick tried to sternly warn them, effect broken by his own intermittent giggles.

"Yeah, you want to date him, you gotta go through the gauntlet." Jason said, muffling Tim's flustered protests with an arm.

"Challenge accepted." Danny paused. "Wait, did I just sign up to be Tim's boyfriend? Shit, Phantom's gonna kill me."

——

Danny texted a series of numbers to Sam. She left him on read.

Ah, maybe he shouldn't have introduced a budding ecoterrorist to a veteran one, but too late now!

——

If you notice any inconsistencies, no u don’t.

It’s been a while since I’ve written for this series though so… yk. Danny, verbally sealing himself into the trap while being chaotic. In character, me thinks.

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