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sandcobangevent · 2 months ago

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who let the dogs out?!

by @lxvenderjewel and atispeach

If John comes downstairs just to complain about his missing mic one more time, Mariana will give Sherlock the case he’s been whining about not having all week.

None of them know where the bloody mic went, but Mariana’s considering the possibility that John has genuinely fallen in love with the damn thing, the way he keeps waxing poetic about it as if it’s his husband gone off to war. He’s been freaking out about losing it, and when Mariana suggests he just replace it, he looks at her as if she’s asked him to kill someone.

“I can’t just replace my mic, Mari,” he says, eyes wide with betrayal. “We’ve been through everything together.”

Dramatic ass man.

Anyhow, every day that the damn thing has been gone, John has been steadily getting more and more stir-crazy, pacing the flat, muttering to himself, drinking unhealthy amounts of coffee, and on one notable occasion taking his phone case off to throw it at the wall before sinking down into a crouch and screaming into his hands.

Really, it wouldn’t be that serious if he’d just replace it. But she won’t tell him that. That’s what Sherlock’s for.

“Do you have any audio left on it?”

“No, I uploaded everything as soon as we came back home last week, but–”

“Then there’s no need for you to find that mic, Watson. You can just replace it.”

“Right, yeah, until we find it somewhere a month from now and realize we’ve wasted our money when we could’ve just looked harder, right.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that!”

Yeah. Thank god for him.

Mariana’s finally getting some work done, because John isn’t talking her ear off in panic. There’s always work to be done, especially filing with the police, which irritates her to no end but irritates her more right this very moment.

Of course, this is when she hears something at the door.

“I’m going to kill that man,” Mariana mutters to herself as she gets up and stalks to the door, but when she opens it, there’s no man to kill.

She looks down.

It’s Archie.

“Hello, Archie,” she sighs, as the bulldog trots past her and into his bed in her flat. “What do you want from me.”

He barks twice in response, and scratches the floor next to his bed. Mariana whips around, slamming the door.

“My floor! Puta madré, my floor-” she says, running up next to him. “Stop that!”

He’s scratching underneath his bed, and Mariana frantically lifts it up to see the damage he’s done to her precious floor, and then-

Ah.

There’s a mic on the floor.

“Ay, dios mio,” she mutters, and with one hand pulls her phone out and dials John.

Sometimes, they like to let Archie run about for a bit by himself. It used to stress John out to no end, but Sherlock insisted that the poor dog learn how to live on its own, especially considering that they were taking a lot more out-of-country cases. (Which, by the way, Mariana doesn’t especially like, considering plane tickets are bloody expensive.) They’d argued a lot about it--- Archie hadn’t exactly been raised as an outdoor dog, and he was mildly energetic at best, and what would he do if he got in the path of a car? or a bike? Or, or, or---

But Sherlock insisted, and John is helpless to Sherlock on the best of days.

Anyways, the point is this--- sometimes they’ll go hours without hearing Archie’s paws on the floor or his snuffles as he sleeps, and John’s learned not to fret so much over it, and that’s why none of them notice at first– none of them realize that Archie’s been gone too long until it’s 7 in the evening and John’s on the verge of sobbing because “he’s my bloody dog, Sherlock, you idiot bastard!”

The two of them are on the verge of devolving into a full blown fight– Archie is John’s little boy, damn near his own son, and he’ll probably blow a gasket if the old fucker doesn’t turn up by the end of the evening. And Sherlock is still adamant that Archie will be fine, that he can tough it out on his own, which, to his apparent surprise, isn’t really helping at all.

Mariana is fast developing a throbbing headache at all the shouting in the flat. She’s already tired of playing peacemaker and it’s probably been about five minutes. It’s not that she doesn’t love her flatmates– God help her, she does– but she really despises them when they yell, which, contrary to popular belief, happens a lot.

The two of them ought to take a walk, really, but they won’t, so Mariana will do it for them (and for herself, mostly, she has to take her glasses off because they’re really not helping with the headache).

They don’t notice her quietly slipping out the door as they’re playing their fifth round of the blame game, and when the door closes she inhales in relief. She quickly half-runs down the stairs, unlocking the door to 221A and slipping on a jacket before running back out the door and down the hall.

There's a stinging cold outside, but she finds she doesn’t really mind. It’s that odd transition period between winter and spring where the snow has stopped but the chill still lingers in the air and there’s always a threat of rain but never a guarantee. The ground in front of her is wet, which isn’t a surprise, considering she’d heard the pounding rain inside the flat only half an hour ago, but there’s a very familiar scent of wet dog, which is surprising, because she isn’t aware of any other dogs that live around the Baker Street area.

And then her heart leaps, and–

Dios mio, there’s Archie, in the sodden, muddy flesh, and it’s a good thing Mariana thought to put on a raincoat because she immediately scoops the dirty dog into her arms as he licks at her face.

“My god, you little rascal, the trouble you brought,” she admonishes, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he nuzzles into the crook of her neck. She might never have been so happy to see the dog, she smiles to herself.

She’ll call John in a moment, but it’s probably healthy to yell, and she wants to cuddle her gross and disgusting dog for just a moment more.

“Come on, just one picture, please,” Mariana begs, crouching over Archie’s dog bed. “I just want one.”

Archie isn’t one for cameras, something Mariana learned quickly, being an avid picture-taker. And for the most part, it doesn’t bother her, except for right now, because they’re doing some merch collab, and they want a picture of the dog, and the dog won’t sit still.

“Do you want food? I’ll get you food. I’ll get you the most premium beef if you just sit for this picture.”

Still, nothing. John and Sherlock, of course, are out on a case, which means she’s left at home with no help to wrangle this dog who has not an ounce of mercy in his tiny little body.

Mariana wails in frustration.

“Please, Archie, I’ll do anything,” she begs. The dog stops and looks at her as if to say, oh, anything?

He darts into her bedroom and she sighs, tears springing to her eyes. She runs after him.

“What do you want,” she asks him. He nudges one of her drawers. Her sock drawer.

“One day I’ll kill you,” she mutters, but she opens it and throws him a pair to chew on. He catches them in his mouth and his tail starts wagging as he sits down, the socks in a slobbery wet pile on her bedroom floor as he pants happily.

The plushie company loves the photo.

It falls on Mariana to take Archie to go get his annual vet check up, since John’s out visiting family and Sherlock’s out… doing… something. She hates using the cage, and he falls asleep in the car anyways, so she just doesn’t use it.

Instead, he’s sitting in her lap while she scrolls Twitter on her phone and waits for the vet to call them inside. She strokes him absentmindedly and looks up every so often to watch the clock tick, tick, tick.

The vet’s office is cute. The walls are white, of course, but there’re paintings of puppies and kittens and flowers all over the walls. It’s almost sickening. To Sherlock, it probably would be.

She taps her foot against the floor and looks back down at her phone. It’s no inconvenience to her (as she’d told John about a million times before he’d left) but god is it boring.

That is, until Archie, with newfound energy, crawls off of her lap to go harass some poor girl’s puppy.

“Shit–!” Mariana curses, getting up quickly. “Archie! You idiot, ” she calls after the stupid dog.

The dog’s owner looks up at that, and she scoops her puppy up off the floor. Archie barks up at her, and that’s when Mariana kneels down next to him and shoves a treat haphazardly grabbed from the recesses of her bag into his mouth.

“I am so sorry,” she says.

“No, it’s… fine,” the woman says. Her blond, curly hair is pulled into a bun, and she’s wearing a black hoodie with… is that Sindarin?

“I like your hoodie,” Mariana mumbles, petting Archie’s head in an effort to get him to calm down.

“Yeah?” the woman asks. “Well, I like your bag.”

Mariana looks down at her bag, spots the fanmade pin she’d bought a couple months ago on the strap. She looks back up and the woman’s smiling at her, and her heart flutters a bit.

“D’you like Lord of the Rings too?”

Mariana deliberates for a moment– yes, she does, but does this girl like it as much as her? Does she really want to talk about it until her appointment is called? But then again, no one who has a hoodie with that design on it is a casual enjoyer of Lord of the Rings.

So, “yeah, I do. Have you watched that new Amazon Prime series?”

“Oh, I did, but I dropped it like halfway through.”

“What? Why?”

“Well–”

Suddenly, the thought of sitting here for 30 more minutes doesn’t seem so agonizing.

It’s a nice day for a walk, which is why Mariana’s mourning the fact that John’s not on it.

He’s having one of his bad leg days, which seem to be increasing ever since their last case, and he’d felt ever so awful about not being able to walk Archie, so of course, she’d volunteered.

“I’m so sorry,” he’d frowned, and she’d waved him off. It’s what you do for a friend, after all.

The sun isn’t beating down too hard on her, and the air is in Goldilocks condition. Archie’s happily trotting down the sidewalk and she has her headphones on, bobbing her head along to the beat of various Yves songs. There’s the bakery that she and Sherlock had visited yesterday, and coming up, she knows, is the flower shop that the girl she’d met at the vet works at. She smiles to herself. She’d gotten her number after she’d been called up for the appointment, and they’d been texting almost every day after her shift. She’s funny, creative too, draws in her free time. They’re good drawings, and Mariana has told her as much. Maybe she’ll pop in for a visit, invite her to dinner later that week–

There’s a tug at the leash, and Archie’s running off in the other direction.

Mariana barely has time to let out a shout of surprise before she’s being pulled along with the dog, desperately trying to keep up. She’d never been the most athletic, and the bulldog is setting a deceptively fast pace for her, not to mention she doesn’t have her insoles in. It doesn’t even take two minutes before she’s wheezing, two minutes more and her chest is burning so badly there are tears in her eyes.

By the time he stops running, which feels like hours , she’s panting heavily, chest heaving and coughing.

“ Dios mio, you demon dog,” she hacks out, pounding a fist against her chest as he slows down. “What the hell made you do that?”

Archie barks and sniffs the air, leading her into an alleyway.

Holy shit, he’s going to kill me, she thinks. I’m going to die in this dusty, grimy alleyway.

He barks again, and suddenly a stench hits her. She looks down at him, and then she notices something next to him.

“Holy shit,” she says.

There’s a fucking dead body on the floor.

She gags. “Is this what you want to show me? Dios mio,” she mutters, but she’s already dialing Sherlock’s number and visualizing the grin on his face when she tells him.

Damn it.

“Come on, we have to get Archie something!” Mariana protests as John tries to drag her out of the shop.

“These souvenirs are all so bloody expensive, you insane woman,” John hisses. “We’re not getting him anything.”

“But–! Look at this little shirt!” she whines. “Look at that color! And that design! It just oozes love!”

“It what.”

John’s tone is flat, with just a touch of disbelief behind it.

“You know who else oozes love? Archie.”

“He certainly oozes,” Sherlock mumbles from beside the two of them, at which they both whip around and level him with twin glares. “I’m kidding!”

“Please, just the one shirt, John,” Mariana begs. “It’s only–” she turns around. “Ten dollars.”

“Ten– normal shirts are supposed to cost ten dollars! Not shirts for dogs!”

“But just think of how cute he’ll look in it, John, please,” she says. “Think of the bigger picture.”

“I’m thinking, and all I can see is my wallet, woefully empty because I keep letting you buy things.”

“ Your wallet?!” she laughs, affronted. “Why am I even asking you, actually? It’s my money.”

“Fine, go broke, what do I care,” John sighs dramatically as she picks the shirt off its tiny little hanger and fawns over it.

“Me and Archie are going to have matching shirts when we get home, John. It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #john watson #mariana ametxazurra #sherlock holmes #archie the dog #event #fanart #fanfiction #flashbang event #april 2025

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danmeidiaries · 22 days ago

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"How could you miss?! He was 3ft in Front of You!" - When the Queer Option was right there the whole time.

I've touched on writers and execs not allowing queer relationships in media and forcing a heterosexual pairing before. Unlike my previous essay, this will be a short list of shows that sidelined a perfect queer relationship for straight washing.

The title is inspired by the immortal words of Mushu, because dear god how could these characters miss so badly with their love interests.

This list will include any bromance or BL dramas that fall into this category.

BBC's Merlin

Canon Pairing: Arwen (Arthur x Gwen)

Queer Pairing: Merthur (Arthur x Merlin)

Hell, I'm not even a big merthur shipper and I know that this would have made the show better. Angel Coulby and Santiago Cabrera have insane chemistry and can make an equally great side pairing.

2. 'Fangs of Fortune'

Canon: Wen Xiao x Zhao Yuanzhou

Queer Pairings:

Yuanyi (Zhuo Yichen x Zhao Yuanzhou)

Wen Xiao x Pei Sijing

Similar to Merlin, the main arc of the show is about Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanzhou and the tragic promise they've made. Meanwhile, the show gives us these two gorgeous lesbians as well as a bonus. The tragedy of the show hinges on Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanzhou's evolving relationship and a canon confirmation of their love for each other would have sealed the deal.

Thank god most bromance dramas don't have a female romance option.

3. The Devil Judge

Canon Pairing: Kim Gaon x Yoon Soohyun

Queer Pairing: Gahan (Kang Yohan x Kim Gaon)

Again, the entire show revolves around the evolving relationship of Kang Yohan and Kim Gaon. They make the show. Whilst Yoon Soohyun is an excellent friend to Gaon, their brief romance is the weakest part of the show.

(Been informed by @clawbehavior that the gif was not made by them and was made by either yohankang, yilinglaozu, baek1nho or another creator. To whoever made it, thank you!)

4. Supernatural

Canon Pairing: Dean with various female flings but I guess Lisa was his longest relationship. Pretty sure he doesn't have a solid female love interest from S7 onwards compared to Sam who has several long term relationships.

Queer Pairing: Destiel (Dean x Castiel)

Oh sure, have Castiel confess his love and then get sent to super-hell. Wow. Amazing. The show avoided giving Dean a long term love interest for entire seasons while Castiel was RIGHT THERE. Pretty sure most people were only still watching to see if they would kiss.

5. The Painted Skin: The Resurrection

Canon Pairing: Princess Jing x Huo Xin

Queer Pairing: Princess Jing x Xiao Wei

If anyone's seen that video of a dance performed by the two Chinese women wearing red and blue, it's based off of this movie. Now, obviously everything that comes out of China is heavily censored but the chemistry between these two is insane. Can we ditch the man? I understand he's plot relevant but can we ditch him at the end after we realise we love one another?

6. BBC Sherlock

Canon Pairing: John Watson x Mary Watson

Queer Pairing: Johnlock (John x Sherlock)

Again, I'm not a big Johnlock shipper and I was actually pretty okay with John x Mary. But the last season was bad overall and what they did with Mary was annoying. This was a popular 2010's ship for a reason.

7. The Witcher

Canon Pairing: Geralt x Yennefer

Queer Pairing: Geraskier (Geralt x Jaskier)

Did I watch season 2 just because of Geraskier? Yes. Did I know that Geralt x Yennefer would always be the endgame because of the books and games? Yes. Still think these two were a better option. But I heard they made Jaskier bisexual in season 3 just not with Geralt so yay?

Anyway, thank god for Thai BL and danmei. If anyone has anymore let me know, these are just the ones I could think of off the top of my head

#merlin #merthur #sherlock #johnlock #fangs of fortune #yuanyi #wen xiao x pei sijing #the painted skin: the resurrection #supernatural #destiel #the devil judge #gahan #the witcher #geraskier

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darknessawaits28 · 3 months ago

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Neon Hearts & Silent Promises【Goro Takemura x Female reader】

Hello my chooms! Hope you are having a wonderful weekend! I wanted to give you a long story based on the results of the poll (I will link the poll for you) about you and Takemura being together. It will have some suggestive images and possibly content that might be offensive/triggering to some, so please be advised of the warnings. But I hope you enjoy the love, the passion, the rescue, and the sexy Takemura! Enjoy my lovies! Thank you all for your love and support! Stay awesome! :3

Here is the link to the poll. Feel free to message me if you would like me to make another story with a different character: Cyberpunk 2077 POLL

Storyline: I don't want to spoil too much, but it consists of Takemura falling hard for you only after days of meeting you and then saving you from a bunch of goons.

『30 pages』『10, 566 words』

Warnings: forced smut (oral play, touching, smacking, slapping, etc.), female recieving oral pleasure, grabbing forcefully, suggestive images and clothing, curse words, sexual pleasure, vaginal penetration, gun violence, mention of blood, and much more. Viewer Discretion Highly Advised!

❤️@miss-rosalie @sillyliterature @elasticbeach @alabasterfury @roxsubject ❤️

Whispers of the Chrome Heart

Night city, filled with mercs, legends, corrupt cops, and your occasional do-gooder. It was a different life here in the city, you were either part of a gang, belonged to a megacorp, self employed, or was just….homeless. What a life to live right? It takes guts to live here, to survive the hustle and bustle of this great neon city. Citizens here would always say ‘choom, you either make it big here in Night City, or you die trying.’ They were right, because the city never gave happy endings unless you’re dying or almost dead. But, pushing past all the dark, grimy, and death-ridden parts of this city, there were two important people on the run, a merc, and a washed up body guard. Wonder if one will fall in love in spite of being loyal to his corp?

“You are reckless, V. One day it will cost you, your life” Takemura sighed in annoyance as he followed alongside V to find a decent hiding space for now.

“Relax Goro, I had it under control” V rolled her eyes as she proceeded towards the quaint little diner on Watson.

"Ah, yes. You had everything under control. That is why we were this close to losing our heads to Arasaka assassins."

“Well we’re still alive aren’t we” V chuckled, slowly sliding into the booth and waited for a waitress to come take their orders.

Takemura also slid into the booth, intertwining his fingers as he thought of how his very own employer betrayed him like that.

“Hi, what can I get y'all to drink?” You smiled cutely, passing them the menus and then grabbing your notepad to jot down their drink orders.

“Hmm can I get the strawberry milkshake please, and come back in a few minutes, I’m still deciding what I want to eat” V looked up at you as she ordered her drink.

“Sure hon, what about you sir?” You glanced over at the handsome man in front of you.

Takemura was a simple man; few things ever truly surprised him. But the moment he laid eyes on you, it was as if his mind short-circuited. For the first time in years, words failed him. “Uh… um…” He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. “Apologies. May I… have green tea, please?” he finally managed, his usually firm voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Sure, I’ll put those in for you and be back in a second to get your food orders” you nodded, turning at your heels and proceeding towards the front counter to put the drink orders in and prepare them.

“What the hell was that Goro?” “Cat got ya tongue?” V snickered as she opened the menu and began to look around for something good to eat.

Takemura’s expression shifted from shock to something closer to disappointment—perhaps even mild annoyance. "I do not have time to entertain your idiotic questions, V. Instead of wasting breath, you should be thinking about our next move. Or have you forgotten that we are both targets of Arasaka?"

“Relax choom, I’m thinking about trying to find Evelyn Parker, she’s the one that organized this whole thing….she might know how to help me get rid of this chip.”

“Why do you believe she could help you remove the chip? Does a corporation help her?”

“Got no clue” V shrugged, deciding that she was going to order some pancakes with a side of hash browns.

“I know that Evelyn was knowledgeable about the Relic. Had a large chunk of classified info. An enigma to be sure, but she showed that slyness you get in corpo agents….you know the kind.”

“I, too, possess this ‘slyness’ you speak of,” Takemura huffed as he opened up the menu and also began to look at the different kinds of food.

“Of course you do, but for right now, why don’t we focus on filling our bellies with food before we go hungry.”

“Here you are, a strawberry milkshake for you sweetheart, and a green tea for you handsome” You cheekily smiled, handing the two their drinks and then pulled out your notepad again to jot down their food orders.

Takemura, ever the composed man, reached for his tea—only for his hand to freeze midair. His sharp eyes flicked up to you, and for the first time in a long while, he was at a loss for words.

"Handsome?"

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face—shock, intrigue, maybe even a hint of embarrassment. He cleared his throat, quickly regaining his usual stiff demeanor.

“Hmph. Flattery will not earn you a larger tip,” he muttered, bringing the tea to his lips, though the slight warmth on his ears betrayed him.

Meanwhile, V nearly choked on her milkshake, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Takemura being caught off guard.

“I wasn’t asking for a big tip handsome, I was simply being kind” you chuckled at his reaction, and then focused on the task at hand. “So, what can I get you two to eat?”

“Could I get three pancakes, with a side of hash browns? Appreciate it” V smiled, closing the menu and then handing it to you.

“Sure hon, and for you?”

“A bit late for breakfast, is it not, V?” Takemura raised his brow in amusement at how people of Night City ate anything at all hours of the day and night.

“Na, you just haven’t tried her pancakes before.”

“You have been here before?” He questioned in curiosity.

“She’s here all the time. When she finishes one of her gigs, she would always stop by to grab my famous pancakes and hash browns” You laughed, nudging V’s shoulder a bit.

“Yeah, that is true, but fuck man…your pancakes, y/n, are amazing.”

“Hmm, I suppose I shall have what she is having, then.” Takemura spoke with intrigue, closing the menu and handing it to you.

“Of course, I shall have those ready for you as soon as I can” you nodded, grabbing the menus and quickly rushed to the kitchen.

As you left, Takemura stayed staring at you, as if he was drawn to you in some way. “Hmm.”

“Take a picture Goro, it’ll last longer” V teased him while sipping on her strawberry milkshake.

“Do not tease me, V.” He grumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly, though there was an undeniable hint of frustration mixed with something else. He couldn’t quite place it.

“I wasn’t teasing, I was merely saying to take a picture of her so you can remember her.”

“I-” He went silent, not wanting to entertain V in her silly shenanigans.

As V continued to tease the poor old man, you went into the kitchen to start cooking your famous pancakes. “Hey John, I need to borrow the flat top for a minute, I need to make my famous pancakes.”

“Sure, no problem” John smiled, stepping aside to scroll through his phone while he waited for you to finish.

Once he stepped aside, you began to make the batter, mixing the normal ingredients needed to make your pancakes.

“Hmm hmmm” you hummed to yourself, grabbing a rounded spoon, scooped up some of the batter, and then poured it onto the flattop; making sure to evenly spread it.

“You seem to be happy girl, what's on ya mind?” John looked up from his phone, wanting to be nosy.

“Nothing that you should concern yourself with John” you teased with a chuckle, flipping the six pancakes once they were ready to be flipped.

“Oh come on y/n, don't leave me hanging, please!”

“Aww you're so cute when you beg” you joked and sighed deeply. “Fine, there's an older man out there and….he's kind of handsome.”

“Wow, I'm amazed that you're into dudes.”

“Hey!” You turned your head to glare at him.

“What? It's true, you've always been close to that merc from the Afterlife…what's her name…um….uh…”.

“You mean V? No, she's just nice with me, and knows that I've had to fight tooth and nail to survive in this fucking city.”

“Don't we all” John spoke with a sarcastic tone as he glanced over to the ticket machine and saw tickets being printed out. “Oop, be right back darling, got orders to fill.”

“Yeah, yeah” you shrugged, finishing up the pancakes and then went about to cook the hash browns.

Within a few minutes, you brought out the food to V and this Goro. “Here you are guys, pancakes and hash browns,” you smiled.

“Aww fuck yes!” V hummed in hunger, quickly grabbing the knife and fork from you and began to dig in without a second thought.

“What is this…?” Takemura looked down at the confetti pancakes, clearly taken aback by the vibrant mix of colors, whipped cream, and sprinkles. His brow furrowed, but there was a flicker of something soft in his gaze.

“Those are my famous confetti pancakes” you giggled cutely, handing him his fork and knife.

“Oh” he nodded slowly, glancing up at you, noticing your smile that made his chest tighten. Your kindness, your attention to detail—he wasn’t used to being treated like this in Night City, especially not by someone who seemed so genuine.

After a brief moment, Takemura cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure. “This… is highly unconventional, but…” His voice softened slightly as his lips tugged upward in the smallest of smiles—something genuine, something warm. “I suppose I will try it.”

His eyes lingered on you a little longer than he intended, but there was no going back now. He couldn’t deny the flutter in his chest every time you looked at him.

“Well, I shall get back to my duties, but if you need anything else, I'm just a call away” you winked at Takemura and then went about to help the other customers.

“Mmm, fuck me…this tastes so good Takemura, come on, try it” V enticed him while having her mouth stuffed.

Takemura shot V an annoying glare before he cut a piece of the confetti pancakes and then took a bite of it. Within seconds, he was hit with a wave of sweet and savory.

“Incredible. I did not expect such flavor” He nearly gasped, again glancing up at you to smile.

Noticing this Takemura looking at you with a genuine smile, caused a deep blush to form across your cheeks. “Ah” you quickly rushed into the kitchen, trying to hide your blush from him.

After a few minutes, both V and Takemura sat in the booth with happy bellies. “Come on, out with it Goro, you know you enjoyed the food.”

“Hmm, I must agree—it was indeed delicious and rich in flavor. However, I still prefer the cuisine from my homeland.”

Despite his composed demeanor, there’s a small hesitation in his voice, betraying the truth he refuses to admit. The warmth of the meal lingers on his tongue, but more than that, it’s the way you made it that truly lingers in his mind.

“Y/n, sweet heart, can I get the check?!” She waved to you.

“Oh coming V!” You called to her from the kitchen.

“So, how was it?” You smiled at both of them, placing this decently sized Ipad onto the table and then placed your hands onto your hips, waiting for them to tell you how the food was.

“Argh, y/n, it was amazing and Goro over here is lying through his teeth and found the food to be super delicious”

“I was not lying” Takemura shook his head while crossing his arms.

“Oh that's good to hear that you both enjoyed the food I made.”

“Of course” V smiled, waving her hand over the IPad and paying the tab.

Without a word, Takemura pulled out a carefully folded bill—more than generous for the price of the meal—and placed it gently on the counter, just within your reach.

“For the pancakes… and the effort.” His voice was low, but sincere. His eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, the corner of his mouth twitching—nearly a smile.

“You take great pride in your work. It shows.”

Then, with a respectful nod, he turned to leave with V—heart beating a touch faster than he’d ever admit.

As you stood there, your heart skipped a beat, finding the way he spoke to you and the way he treated you to be so sweet and genuine; not like the many customers you had to deal with.

“Aww” you sighed happily, until you were interrupted by a customer shouting for you to fill his coffee cup. “Ugh, I'm coming, give me one second” you sighed in annoyance.

For a while, this Takemura had been visiting the diner you worked at for days on end. It felt a bit strange at first, but you got used to seeing his sweet handsome face.

“Hello again, Takemura” you cutely smiled, handing him his cup of green tea.

“Hello, y/n. It is good to see you again.” He smiled softly, the expression rare but unmistakably warm—meant just for you.

“Where's V?”

“Probably out doing what mercs usually do.”

“I suppose, would you like anything else?” You asked him.

“No, thank you though.” He nodded politely, his usual composed demeanor in place.

“Holler if you need me.” You added, giving him a warm look before stepping away.

As you went about to take care of the customers, he softly placed his chin on the palm of his hand, watching you bustle around the diner with that soft energy that had drawn him in from day one. He’d memorized your routine, the way you hummed when focused, the shy smile you gave when your eyes met with his. You were beautiful, sweet, kind, something rare to be found in this city. For the first time in years, he felt something stir deep inside, something he couldn’t ignore.

“Takemura….Takemura?” You gently placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.

“Huh?” He jumped awake, looking around to find there was no one else in the diner but him.

“We're closing up.”

“My apologies… I must have dozed off.” He yawned, wiping his eyes with one hand as he stood from the booth. But in his groggy state, he nearly bumped into you.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” He gasped, quickly stepping back, his face flushing slightly in embarrassment.

“Ah!” You gasped as well, both the palms of your hands gently pressed onto his chest to steady yourself. Yet, as you stood there, looking deep into his eyes, you felt yourself slowly turning into a mushy paste. The warmth of his body, the sincerity in his gaze—it was hard to focus on anything else.

Takemura found himself not moving a muscle, his gaze staring deep into your own. He was memorized by your soft eyes. “Y/n” he managed to whisper.

When he whispered your name, you felt yourself leaning in close to him, your mouth slightly parting.

He did the same, slowly leaning in close, his tall figure looming over you like an animal in heat.

“Takemura” you whispered his name, but the moment was suddenly interrupted.

“Uh knock, knock” V leaned against the doorway of the entrance, crossing her arms with a smirk plastered into her face.

“V, what brings you by?” Takemura asked, his voice steady, though there was an almost imperceptible edge to it. He held in the grumble that threatened to slip out, not wanting to seem angry, especially when he was so close to having a more intimate moment with you. His eyes briefly flickered to you before he quickly masked his irritation, focusing back on V with a polite yet firm expression.

“I guess that's my cue, have a goodnight you two” a deep blush formed across your cheeks as you pulled your purse close to you and quickly headed out of the diner.

“Night y/n” V chuckled before she stood straight and approached Takemura. “Did I interrupt anything?”

“Why are you here?” Takemura asked while disregarding V's question.

“I wanted to let you know that Evelyn was a dead end. But I'm going to try to track down Hellman now.”

“You could have simply called me, V, and not come by.” Takemura’s tone was calm but with a hint of seriousness, his eyes scanning the area cautiously. “We can’t be seen outside too much.”

“I think you should worry about yourself since you're always here at the diner staring at her.”

“Excuse me?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, the sharpness in his tone more out of defense than anger. He wanted her to explain what she meant… precisely.

“You heard me,” V teased, smirking. “I saw the way you looked at her… well, continue looking at her. You’re in love.” She gave a small, knowing laugh.

Takemura stiffened, jaw tightening. “…That is a bold assumption,” he said quietly, but the flicker of guilt—or maybe truth—in his gaze betrayed him. “And one you should not speak of so loudly.”

Still, his voice lacked the usual coldness. If anything, it held a strange warmth.

“She is… remarkable. That is all I will say.”

“Then why don't you ask her out for god's sake” V crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look as she leaned against the wall.

Takemura’s gaze dropped for a moment, his jaw tightening again.

“She would not want to go out with a man who belongs to Arasaka…” he said quietly, almost bitterly. “I have already seen how people in Night City look at me—with suspicion… with distaste. Especially when they learn who I served.”

“She is kind. Gentle. She deserves peace—not shadows following her.”

“That is true, there are a lot of people here that don't like ‘saka scum, but…..I saw the way she looked at you. She genuinely seemed to like you” She shrugged, stretching her arms out. “Well, I'll leave you to it, have a goodnight Goro.”

“You as well V” Takemura sighed, stepping out of the diner and went to the motel he was staying at to think about what she had said.

Morning came quicker than usual, Takemura quickly got dressed and arrived at the diner on time, just as he had for the past few days. But today, something was off. No warm smile. No shy greeting. No tray of pancakes topped with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.

You weren't there.

He waited a few minutes. Then a few more. Something in his chest tightened.

“You lookin’ for your girl?” John, the cook behind the counter asked, wiping his hands. “She didn't come in today. Didn't call either. That ain't like her.”

Takemura's blood ran cold, something definitely was wrong.

“Are you certain she did not call? Leave a message somewhere? A note?” His hands clenched at his sides, tension creeping into every word. He didn’t want to sound panicked, but the gnawing in his gut was growing stronger with every second.

“Now I told ya she didn't, so stop asking me” John rolled his eyes.

“Yo John, refill will ya?” A customer called to John.

“I'm coming dammit” John sighed as he grabbed the glass carafe that had hot brewed coffee within to pour for the customer.

Takemura growled in worry, the sudden surge of panic almost making his heart race. He stood up sharply from the table he was sitting at, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he rushed outside, his thoughts a whirlwind of dread.

Takemura’s jaw tightened, the gnawing worry in his gut refusing to subside. Without another thought, he tapped his temple, activating his cyberware to make the call to V. His voice was low, but urgent as he spoke into the air.

“What's up Goro?” V answered with curiosity.

“V, something is wrong.” His voice reverberated in the calm of the streets, every word laced with mounting frustration. “Y/n hasn’t shown up for her shift. No call, no message. She wouldn’t just disappear like this.”

He paced outside the diner, his eyes scanning the surrounding area, a deep sense of unease tightening his chest.

“Woah, woah, slow down, she's missing? You sure she didn't call in sick or something?”

“No, because that damn cook told me she didn’t call, nor leave anything.” Takemura’s voice was sharp, tinged with growing desperation. His knuckles whitened as he balled his hand into a fist, the raw emotion seeping through his words. “Please, V, you have to help me find her!”

“Alright, alright, relax, we'll find her Goro. I'm gonna send you some coords, meet me there and we can discuss how to find her.”

"Understood. I will see you soon.”

While Goro headed to the coordinates V had given him, you were being dragged out of the van by a group of Tyger Claws.

“Let me go!” You shouted, struggling against their grip.

“Oi….look at this one. Feisty, but got that sweet, innocent look. Clouds would kill for a doll like her” one tyger claw spoke with a smirk as he eyed you closely.

“Tch, nah. That kind of ass? Perfect for Kenji--you know he loves breaking in the pretty ones.”

“Hai….he'd take his time with her. Make her beg” the tyger claw male nodded, stepping closer to you and lifted your chin.

“Don't touch me!” You slapped his hand away.

The tyger claw growled in anger, raising his hand and slapping you across the face.

“Ah!” You winced, cupping your cheek and felt tears swelling in your eyes.

“Look at you… so delicate. You gonna cry, cutie?” He paused, tilting his head with a cruel smirk. “…Good. I like when you girls cry.”

His laughter was cold, sharp—then his hand clamped around your arm, vicious and unforgiving, dragging you toward the back without a second thought.

“I guess Yasui is going to have fun with her first” another tyger claw male laughed as waved to the others to help him unload the truck full of stolen supplies they had taken from stall owners.

“No, no please!” You screamed, struggling against his grasp.

Yasui snarled, voice low and seething, “Should’ve kept that pretty mouth shut.” He shoved you hard, the back of your legs hitting a wooden chair as you stumbled into it.

“Now I’ve got no choice…” he growled, stepping closer, “…I have to punish you.” His gaze darkened, slow and predatory. “Strip.”

“W-What?” You gasped in shock.

Yasui's eyes narrowed, his voice rising with venom. “Are you deaf?” he barked, stepping forward. “Take your clothes off, you dumb bitch!”

“I…I won't…” you sniffled, tears dripping down your cheeks.

Yasui’s lip curled into a snarl as he flipped open his switchblade with a click. “Do it,” he hissed, stepping closer. “Or I cut you.”

Holding back your whimpers, you stood from the chair and began to slowly strip in front of this man.

Yasui groaned in hunger as he watched you slowly strip, starting with your shirt, then your bra, followed by your pants, and finally your panties. “Fuck, you look good,” he hummed, grasping your face and using his tongue to lick it.

“Ugh….you’re a fucking pig” you murmured underneath your breathe.

“Pig? I was expecting you to say monster” he laughed, kicking the wooden chair to the side and then shoved you onto the dirty bed in the corner.

“Fuck, let’s see how much pain you can take” Yasui bite his bottom lip as he unzipped his pants.

"V, it is Takemura. Open the door, now." Takemura banged onto the apartment door.

With quick movements, V opened the door, allowing for him to enter her home. “Okay, okay, no need to bang on my fucking door.”

"I apologize... I am just... worried about y/n." He exhales sharply, his mind racing with thoughts of what might have happened to you.

“I can see that” she rolled her eyes, turning around and approaching her couch to grab the trash of the fast food she had been eating to throw it out.

"Do you have any contacts... anyone who might help find where she lives?"

“Hmm, yeah, give me a second” V nodded, throwing away the trash and then pulled up her interface to call Regina.

“V” Regina answered her call with enthusiasm.

“Hey Regina, sorry to bother, but I need help in finding a missing girl. I am assuming she lives here in Watson, so that should narrow down your search, but the rest I do not know.”

“Hmmm, I can track down this missing girl. What’s her name, and why am I getting involved?” Regina crossed her arms, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to know why V cared about this girl, but more than that, she needed to be sure she wasn’t getting herself tangled up in something she wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Uh…she’s an old friend of mine that has gone missing and I need to find her. Her name is y/n.”

“That seems very ominous V, but whatever, I can get you her coords in a few minutes.”

“Thanks Regina, I owe ya one.”

“Yeah you do” Regina joked and then hung up the call to get started in searching for your apartment.

“Okay Goro, so my contact is going to find us some coords of where y/n lives” V relayed the information to Takemura and then proceeded to her bathroom to get changed.

"Good. The sooner we find her, the sooner I can tell her that... I cannot be without her." He let his guard down for a moment, something rare for him.

“Argh” Yasui let out a pleasurable groan as he filled your throat with his cum. “Fuck...” Yasui’s eyes darkened, his voice low and almost admiring as he pulled his dick out of your mouth. “You’ve got a real good mouth.”

“Ugh..” you nearly gagged as his semen dripped down your chin, your eyes glazed over from the tears that continued to fill your eyes.

“Yasui, what the fuck are you doing?” A well dressed man spoke as he pushed aside the bead curtains and saw the sight before him. “Why the hell do you have a girl back here?”

“Sorry, aniki,” he said with a grin, his tone smooth. “Was just breakin’ her in for ya.” {Translation: aniki=brother}

“Breaking her in-?” the well dressed man noticed how innocent you looked, causing his pants to tighten. “Shit.” “Why didn’t you tell me about this girl before, look how delicious she looks” he laughed, kneeling down in front of you to get a good look.

“Mm…” you let out a whimper, trying to cover yourself.

“Yes, you would do lovely as my personal doll” the man grasped the back of your head to further inspect you.

“Ya want me to wash her up aniki? Make her presentable for you and the buyers we are expecting?” Yasui asked with a smirk plastered onto his face.

“Please do, and put that dress I have in that locker on her.” “You’re going to look very sexy in that” he laughed again and then stood on his knees, exiting the side room to prepare himself for the meeting.

“Come on girly, time for a wash.”

“No, let me go!” you cried out in fear as Yasui dragged you towards the dirty bathroom to wash your body.

“Here we are, her apartment complex. Hmmm, strange, she lives in a decently clean neighborhood…strange for Watson” V rubbed her chin in curiosity.

"V, can you access the nearby camera systems? Perhaps we can find a video of where she might have gone."

“Yeah I can hack them” She nodded, looking up at the camera that was above her and hacking into it. Once she hacked it, she began to scan through the different time stamped videos of people coming and going from the complex. Yet, within seconds she pulled up a video time stamped to 4 hours ago, of you walking towards the stalls across the street.

“What do you see?”

“I see her walking out towards the stalls across the street, she was getting a coffee and then-” V went silent when she saw a white van with a Tyger Claw insignia on it approach the vendors and begin shooting up the area. Then, a group of them approached you and dragged you into their van before speeding out of the place.

“Shit….this doesn’t look good V” Johnny’s voice spoke to her.

“No it doesn’t Johnny, especially it being Tyger Claws…I don’t know how the hell I am going to break it to Takemura.”

“Just tell the fucking ‘saka scum what happened to her. There’s no need to sugarcoat it” Johnny groaned in annoyance at how you were tiptoeing around the matter.

“Johnny, it isn’t that simple. Takemura shows care for this girl and…..honestly….I can’t just be an asshole about it” V sighed, exiting the interface and then turned to face Takemura.

"So, what have you found?" He asked, crossing his arms, his gaze steady as he waited for her response.

“She was taken…..by Tyger Claws after they were raiding vendors across the street. Listen, I know you are about to raise hell, but we need to be calm and collective about this.”

When Takemura heard what happened to you, he stayed silent, but within was a boiling rage that was close to overflowing. “Where did they take her?”

“I am not sure, but I know the right person to ask, come on” V gestured him to follow her to her Caliburn.

“V, so nice to see you.” “And your charming friend is…?”

“Wakako, good to see you too. And we are workin’ together, that’s all.”

“Goro Takemura. The honor is mine, Okada-san” Takemura spoke in his native tongue while bowing his head in respect to her.

“Haaa…..a true gentleman” Wakako chuckled a bit, standing onto her two feet. “Shame, only, that he’s being hunted by all Arasaka’s tin soldiers.” “And you, V, bring him to my door.” “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t notify the proper ‘authorities’ right away.”

“We came with biz, and you love to make eddies.”

“Hmm, very true, but my patience runs thin V. What do you need?” Wakako sighed as she sat right back down in her chair.

“I know you have contact with the Tyger Claws. We need information about the whereabouts of a girl they had kidnapped.”

“My, you must really care about this girl.”

Takemura glanced down for a moment, a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, before he spoke with unwavering seriousness, his voice steady yet carrying a hint of the burden he carried. “...Yes, I do.”

“Hmm, there is a meeting going down in the Clouds tower, top floor.” “I will give you access to the freight elevator in the back.” “If you want to find her, she would most likely be there.” “But, a word of caution for your friend V, it is a…..how do you call it….a place where desires are bought and sold."

“Oh shit” V shook her head in worry.

Takemura understood what Wakako meant, “Will it be dark... on the top floor?”

“Slightly dark, with lots of lights flashing and smoke in the air. Should give you two enough cover to rescue your girl.”

“Thanks Wakako, what do I owe ya?”

Wakako spoke with distaste, her eyes cold as she stood from her chair again, the elegance of her movement hiding the venom in her words.

“Nothing, V. Just make sure you kill that son of a bitch Kenji for me... and bring me his sword... the family heirloom he stole.”

She slid a shard across the table, the access code to the freight elevator of Clouds glinting ominously in the dim light.

Hesitant at first, V grabbed the shard and inserted it into her neck slot, “Thanks again Wakako, I promise to bring you that sword.”

“Thank you V, and be careful Takemura…..the Tyger Claws are ruthless when it comes to girls” she softly spoke before sitting down and continuing her business.

“We appreciate this, Okada-san” Takemura bowed his head in respect again and exited Wakako’s office.

“Should we head to Clouds now?”

“Yeah, hop in my ride” V nodded to Takemura and led him to her Caliburn again to head to Clouds Tower.

“Aniki, here is your new prized doll” Yasui chuckled with a crooked grin.

As this Yasui pulled you forward, you blushed madly, feeling embarrassed that you were basically half naked in front of this man.

“My, my, such a sultry sight” Kenji smirked hungrily, approaching you and then held your arm tightly. “Did you make sure she was properly cleaned?”

“Yes I did, inside and out.”

“Mmmm, she still has her cherry?” Kenji questioned while dragging you towards the elevator that led to the top floors of Clouds.

"Tch, yeah she does” Yasui chuckled, mocking you in a way.

“She’s awfully quiet, strange for an innocent face like hers.”

"Cause I taught her what happens when she mouths off.”

Kenji nodded, pleased with his second in command, “Hmm, the investors I will be speaking with will love to hear how you break in the girls better than me.”

“I am sure they will sir” Yasui nodded in respect to his boss and entered the elevator after him.

“Please let me go-” you tried to speak but Yasui grabbed you by the back of your head.

“What did I say about speaking without permission, hmm?”

“I-I’m sorry….sir…” you whimpered in fear, trying to contain your tears that were swelling in your eyes again.

"Iiko da na…" Yasui's mouth twisted in amusement. (いい子だな – “What a good girl.”)

Once the elevator doors swung open, you were hit with blaring music, flashing lights, white smoke, and half naked girls dancing on poles. “Oh my gosh..” you gasped in fear.

youtube

{Skip to 9:48 for the song playing in the background of the scene}

“Come on my beautiful toy, let’s get this deal done” Kenji smirked proudly as he entered the ‘second club’ that was for higher ups and not for the common man.

“Yasui, do you want a drink?” the bartender called to him through the blaring music.

“Sure, you know what I want!” Yasui shouted back to him as he followed his boss.

“You got it!” the bartender smiled as he went about to make his drink.

While you were helplessly being dragged, you noticed the men who were watching the dancing girls on the poles begin to stare at you, as if they were undressing you with their eyes. This place…was terrifying….especially for an innocent girl like yourself. You rarely drank alcohol, and rarely went to clubs or lavish parties. You were a simple girl trying to make her way through Night City, but of course, the city always finds a way to fuck you in the ass.

“Kenji, good to see you!” Another finely dressed man spoke as he stood from the couch he was lounging at with his associate once he entered the blacked out booth they were in.

“Ah, Mr. Landling. A pleasure to see you again” Kenji spoke to him while handing you to Yasui and extending his hand for Landling to shake.

Landling smiled, shaking his hand in respect, “Likewise, and you know my associate, Samuel.”

“Pleasure” Kenji bowed his head in respect and then sat on the couch to start discussing the deal made between him and Militech.

“I hate to be nosy, but who is this fine specimen here?” Landling curiously asked. “Is she new?” “I was scrolling through your catalog of dolls here at Clouds and I did not see her listed.”

“Ah, yes, she is going to be a new doll after my second in command fully breaks her in.” “Speaking of him, he truly is gifted in his ways, better than me in fact.” “This girl came in feisty as ever, fighting, screaming, shouting, being too rowdy.” “But, when he got a hold of her, she went from rebellious to submissive in a second.”

“Really?” “Wow, I am impressed.” “He would be good for training new girls we find for you Kenji.”

“Indeed.” “Now, why don’t we discuss the next phase of our agreement while this beautiful doll dances for us…Yasui please” Kenji gestured to his second in command.

“Alright girly, you are going to get up on this small stage in front of my boss and dance on that pole, is that clear?” he spoke with venom laced in his voice.

“I-I won’t do it….y-you can’t make me…” you shook your head in fear.

“Oh you won’t? If you don’t get up on that stage right now, I will push my fingers far deeper in you than I did when I was washing your dirty body.”

“Fuck you” you glared at him, not moving an inch towards the little stage.

“What the hell did you say, bitch?” he growled, his hand tearing through the air and slapping your cheek viciously. He then grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “You better get your ass up on that stage... or I’ll fuck you raw right here.”

With slight hesitation, you slowly got onto the stage, looking at the three men that sat on the couch, waiting for you to entertain them with your half naked body. Still trying to hold back your tears, you obediently grabbed onto the pole and began to sway your hips side to side. This felt wrong, embarrassing even that these men were staring at you, eating your exposed body with their eyes and lips; oh how you wished you would’ve never gone to the food stalls to get a cup of coffee.

“Mmm damn, she got some meat on those thighs, oh how I want to eat her up” Landling’s associate spoke out as his groin became hard in his pants.

“If you bid for her, I might allow that,” Kenji laughed darkly, looking over at the bartender who handed Yasui the drink he had ordered. “You there, get my colleagues here a drink!”

“Of course sir!” The bartender gave a thumbs up to Kenji and went to get a bottle and a few glasses for them.

Yasui sighed softly as he watched your hips sway with the beat of the music, “Fuck, she looks good” he hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

“What’s the starting bid, Kenji?” Langling’s associate questioned, already readying his eddies.

“We’ll start it at 10,000.”

“Well, I bet 15,000 for her.”

As the men bid back and forth for you, V and Takemura were already at Clouds, readying themselves to enter the ‘secret top floor VIP club’ that Kenji had.

"Everything is in order?"

“Yeah, I’m glad that Wakako was thinking ahead and also gave us fake IDs to get into the club.”

"Why would we require fake IDs if entry to the club is unrestricted?"

“Not this club Takemura, this is a secret VIP club run by the asshole that stole Wakako’s family heirloom and they only allow in specific clients.”

"To purchase the dolls, correct?" Takemura questioned, his voice laced with barely contained fury.

“Yeah….this whole building needs to be shut down to be honest” V sighed in anger, opening up the freight elevator and entered.

Takemura did the same, entering after V and pressed the button to the secret VIP club. “I hope she is alright.”

“We’ll find her Takemura, I give you my word.”

“Thank you, V.”

Within a few minutes, the elevator doors opened to the back rooms, which contained boxes, alcohol, and lots of other things. “Prepare yourself Goro, you’re about to see some fucked up shit.”

“You need not warn me, V. I have witnessed far worse.”

“Ya better tell me later what you’ve seen that is far worse than this when we are done” V chuckled and exited the back rooms and into the club, the flashing lights already blinding her. “Split up, we can cover more ground.”

“Understood” Takemura nodded to V and began to walk around the floor, trying to avert his gaze to the half naked women who were dancing on the stage.

“Yes, shake that ass!” a man shouted to the girl who was twerking her ass in his face.

“Tch... these pathetic men.” Takemura growled in disgust. "She must be here... somewhere." he whispered to himself, pressing on until he noticed a blacked out booth in the corner. "V. There is a blacked-out booth at the back of the club. Can you locate a port nearby—see if you can access it and get a visual from inside?"

“On it” V told Takemura through the holo before she went sneaking around to the staff only office where the access to the cameras was.

“「今のところ問題は見当たりません。何か変わったら、すぐに報告します。」” The engineer hung up the phone when he finished talking with whoever was on the other line and continued looking at the screen that had views of all the cameras in the club. (Translation: "There are no problems that I can see. If anything changes, I'll update you immediately.")

With quick movements, V subdued the man by choking him out, making sure to shove his limp body into the disposal bin that was in the corner. Then she rushed over to the camera system and used her neurouplink to hack into the camera feeds.

“Wow, never knew a girl like her would look good in such an outfit” Johnny commented on your appearance once he saw you through the camera feeds.

“Shut up Johnny” V growled in annoyance and then called Takemura through the holo. “Goro, I found our girl, she’s in that booth.”

"Is she all right?

“Uh…yeah….she looks okay but we need to find a way in” She lied, not wanting him to go stir crazy; she needed him focused and calm.

“What do you propose?” Takemura asked.

“Uh……see that bartender that is preparing the drinks, keep him there, I got an idea” V hung up the call and pulled out her uplink. Quickly rushing over to the lockers that were in the next room, she pulled on an elegant yet sexy dress and proceeded out of the room to meet up with Takemura.

Takemura nodded to himself, turning at his heels and approaching the bartender. "Pardon me. Would you happen to know where I can order one of these dolls?"

“Hmphm, sir, I am not the right person to be asking that question. If you want a doll, go ask the girl in blue over there” The bartender shook his head as he grabbed the tray, readying himself to bring the drinks over to Kenji.

“Heyy” V smiled cockily as she approached Takemura from the side. “Listen, how about I take those drinks to the men in that booth over there for ya?”

“Who the fuck are you?” The bartender frowned, wondering why the hell this surprisingly attractive woman was asking him to give her the drinks to serve. “Are you even a client?” “I’m going to have to call secur-”

“You don’t need to do that” V spoke in a drunken tone of voice, using her online bank account to send the bartender a decent amount of eddies. “That should entice you to give me the drinks.”

Without question, the bartender handed V the drinks and went about his other business. “Preem” she chuckled, grabbing the tray and turned to face Takemura who seemed slightly confused.

"Why are you dressed so... revealingly, V?”

"I’m blending in. Besides, none of those guys are gonna question who I am when I am dressed like this.”

Takemura sighed, shaking his head slowly, "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing..."

“I got this, just wait outside the booth while I fuck those bastards up” V said as she quickly strutted over to the booth. Once the doors slid up, she entered, acting all clumsy and innocent. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” V gasped as she spilled the bottle of whiskey onto the man that was close to the stripper pole.

Yasui jumped slightly at the warm liquid being spilled over his nicely tailored suit, “Ugh, you clumsy bitch!” he shouted, grabbing a handkerchief he had in his pocket and trying to wipe the stain out.

“Ha, better go to the bathroom to get that cleaned up,” Kenji laughed, waving to the clumsy girl. “It’s okay sexy, at least you didn’t spill all of it.”

“Yeahhh” V laughed cutely, walking seductively towards the men.

A soft gasp escaped your lips when you noticed V was here, a feeling of hope rising within you. “Ah, no!” You whimpered when Langling’s associate pulled you closer on his lap, his boner pressing against your ass.

“Your thighs would do lovely on my dick darlin’” he chuckled, glancing over at the clumsy girl, hoping that there was enough whiskey in that bottle for him to drink.

"Scuse me, gents. Gotta take care of this little stain on my suit” Yasui sighed in anger, exiting out of the booth and heading towards the bathroom.

Takemura, taking notice of the man leaving the booth, followed after him.

“Yes, come here, baby. Pour us some drinks.” Kenji gestured for the girl to approach.

“Of course, honey!” V smirked deviously, her eyes glinting with mischief. She dropped the tray to the floor, the glass shattering instantly. In one smooth motion, she drew her pistol and fired, taking out the man standing next to Kenji and the one holding you.

A soft scream slipped from your lips as you scrambled away from the associate, retreating to the other side of the couch, your body trembling with fear.

Kenji cursed, raising his hands in a futile gesture of surrender. "What the hell do you want?" “The girl, you can’t have her, she’s already been bought,” he spat, eyes wild with fury.

“You alright y/n?” V asked you with softness in her voice.

“Yeah, for now thanks V” you nodded.

“Where is it Kenji?”

"Where’s what? And how the hell do you know my name?" he said, disbelief clear in his voice.

V's lips curled into a smirk, a glint of amusement in her eyes as she held her weapon steady. "I’ve got my ways," she replied coolly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And as for what...you stole something from a certain fixer who knows the bosses of the Tyger Claws.”

Kenji’s heart sunk as he put the pieces together of who this merc was referring to, “Fuck…”.

In the bathroom, the bright overhead light reflected off the white tiles, the sound of running water filled the air as Yasui stood at the sink, scrubbing at the alcohol stain on his shirt. He muttered to himself, frustration creeping into his voice, his back facing to the door when Takemura entered, silent as a shadow.

“Damn it……. that stupid bitch spilled that crap all over me. Can’t even get a good job done without—” He froze as he heard the door creak, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Slowly, he turned around, his eyes narrowing when he saw Takemura standing in the doorway, his katana already in hand.

"You." Takemura spoke coldly.

Yasui smirked nervously, trying to play it cool, "Yo, what’s this? Lost, old man? This ain’t your usual turf, Arasaka dog. What the hell you want?"

“I want answers. Why did you thugs take that girl that is in the booth you came out of?”

Takemura pointed his katana towards Yasui, glaring daggers at him, his voice steady and calm but filled with menace.

Yasui froze for a moment, caught off guard by the deadly focus Takemura had on him. But it didn't take long for the smug grin to return to his face. He laughed, clearly uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny, but still trying to act tough, as though he were in control.

"Heh, so now you're playin' the damn knight in shining armor, huh? Think I’m gonna spill my guts just 'cause you’re brandishin’ that sword at me? You’re wastin' your time, choom. Not gonna happen."

He took a step back, trying to put some distance between them, though his eyes never left Takemura. He was sweating now, but tried his best to keep up the cocky act. "But since you’re so insistent..."

Yasui raised his hands in mock surrender, playing it off as a joke, though his eyes darted toward the door as if looking for an escape route. He wasn’t as confident as he wanted Takemura to believe.

"You want the truth? Fine. We took her ‘cause she was an easy target. She’s got that whole 'innocent girl' thing goin' on, y’know? All pure, all untouched. Easy pickings." He chuckled darkly, his eyes flashing with a twisted sense of pride. "Had to have her. She’s perfect for what we do. A little clean-up, and bam—she’s ours. Easy as that."

Takemura’s grip on the katana tightened, his expression unreadable as the words fell from Yasui’s mouth. But he didn’t interrupt.

Yasui’s eyes gleamed with malicious amusement, "You shoulda seen her face when she figured out what was goin' down. She didn’t have a damn clue what was comin’. It was... almost too easy."

He took another step back, trying to recover some of his bravado, but his voice wavered ever so slightly. "She didn’t even put up much of a fight. Easy pickings."

Takemura’s gaze darkened. He stepped forward, the tip of his katana moving dangerously close to Yasui’s throat, but still, Yasui didn’t back down—his cockiness hanging by a thread.

"Who gave the order?" Takemura spoke softly, yet there was a chilling edge to his voice, each word laced with quiet menace.

Yasui paused, his grin faltering for a split second. The question seemed to hit him harder than expected, but he quickly recovered, turning his head to the side as if considering the best answer to give.

"Who gave the order? Come on, man, this was business. This was my job—my job. Don’t need to know who’s pullin’ the strings. But hey, you can call it a 'personal project.' She was just... too tempting to leave alone."

Takemura’s jaw clenched, and the air between them grew thicker with the tension.

Yasui’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching the way Takemura’s body tensed, sensing that the Arasaka dog was done with this game.

"You think you can save her? Nah. She belongs to my boss now. So why don’t you put that sword down and go home? This is over for you,” Kenji spoke with a hollow chuckle.

Takemura’s eyes never left Kenji. He could feel the rage building inside him, but he kept his composure, not allowing his emotions to get the better of him. With a flick of his wrist, he raised the katana, the blade gleaming as he stepped forward once more. Yasui’s smugness faltered as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"You think this is over?" Takemura spoke with ice in his voice.

Yasui’s cocky demeanor finally cracked. He looked like he wanted to say something, but his words died on his lips as Takemura advanced, the air charged with a lethal intensity. Yasui raised his hands in a last-ditch effort to ward him off.

"Wait, man, come on! It was just a job! She’s fine, alright? She’s fine!" "G-Go to the booth yourself… s-she’s in there with my boss and his investors… come on, you don’t need to kill me…" Yasui pleaded with him, his whole ‘tough guy’ act instantly faltering.

But Takemura wasn’t listening. He had heard enough.

With a swift, precise movement, Takemura slashed his katana across Yasui’s chest, the blade slicing through his shirt and leaving a deep, bloody gash.

Yasui gasped, stumbling backward, his cocky smirk replaced by pain and panic. "What... the hell are you doing?!"

Takemura didn’t speak. His eyes remained cold, focused entirely on the man before him. In one more fluid motion, Takemura brought the katana up, cutting through the air with an expert swing.

Yasui had no time to react as the blade sliced across his arm, severing it cleanly from his body. The stump bled profusely, and he screamed in agony, falling to the floor in a heap."You fucking bastard!"

Takemura stood over him, his katana still raised. The man was trembling, his cocky demeanor completely shattered.

"You will not harm anyone again,” Takemura said in a low, steady voice.

Without another word, Takemura raised his katana one last time, bringing it down swiftly. The blade sliced through Kenji’s throat, silencing him forever. The blood pooled beneath the man’s body as he fell limp, his eyes wide with the terror of his final moments.

Takemura stood over him, breathing deeply, wiping the blood from his katana with a practiced motion. His focus soon shifted from Kenji to you as he stepped out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened.

“It’s in my office….go on take it….” Kenji sighed in defeat, dropping his hands and placing them onto his thighs.

“Hmphm” V chuckled, holstering her gun and approaching you. “Come on y/n, let’s get ya home” she smiled softly.

“Thank you” you sniffled, wiping away the tears that were already dripping down your cheeks and stood from the couch, quickly standing next to V so that she could lead the way.

Although, when V had her focus on you, Kenji grabbed his gun, quickly firing towards her direction.

In a split second, V activated her Sandevistan, her body blurring with speed as the bullet whizzed past her, missing by mere inches. Without hesitation, she drew her pistol and fired, the shot landing with a sickening thud as Kenji's head jerked back, his mouth falling open in shock as life drained from him.

You jumped violently when V shot Kenji, your anger bubbling over as you screamed, "You fucking asshole!" You charged at his lifeless body, wanting to hit it just to feel something, but V grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the booth.

"We need to move, now," she urged, her voice sharp as she tugged you towards the door, urgency in her every step. Security would be here any minute.

Takemura, noticing you exiting the booth with V, followed closely behind. "Ah... You are alright. Thank goodness."

“Takemura!?” You gasped in shock, a deep blush forming across as you realized that you were still wearing the half naked dress that Yasui had put on you.

“It is okay, we are here now” Takemura smiled at you, slipping off his jacket and draping it over your half-naked form.

“Thank you,” you blushed softly, touched by his kindness.

“Come on, no time to chat,” V spoke urgently, his voice laced with haste.

A little while later, you were back in the comfort of your apartment, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m still alive. Thank you….both of you” you sniffled, sitting down on your living room couch to catch your breath.

“Ya don’t need to thank me y/n, thank Takemura…he was the one that organized this whole thing” V smiled.

Takemura shook his head slightly, a hint of humility in his expression. 'It was both of us, V. Not just me.”

“Well, I overstayed my welcome, and I’m tired as fuck. So, you two have fun, I’m going to take a long nap” V joked, waving to both you and Takemura before she left.

Once you were left alone with Takemura, you stood from your couch, cuddling close to his jacket that was still draped on you and approached him with a blush plastered onto your face.

“Thank you so much for saving me again, Takemura.” “I-I don’t even know how I am going to repay you both?”

“You do not need to repay us, y/n. All that is required... is for you to relax. Would you like some tea? I can prepare it for you, if that would help you unwind.” His voice was softer than usual, a gentleness he hadn’t shown anyone before.

You smiled softly. “I would love that.”

As Takemura turned to walk away, his movements stilled for a moment. His body tensed, his mind briefly drifting to thoughts that were, well, not suited for an Arasaka bodyguard. It was a fleeting distraction, something he tried to push aside out of his ever-present respect.

You quickly noticed him standing still, your heart racing as you felt a warmth rush to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but blush. “T-Takemura?” you whispered, the softness of your voice adding to the moment’s tension.

“Forgive me, y/n,” he murmured, his voice laced with both sincerity and a hint of regret. With a slow exhale, he turned toward you, his hand lifting to gently cup your cheek. His gaze softened, the heat of the moment building before he leaned in, pulling you into a gentle, yet tender kiss—one that spoke of more than just words, a silent confession.

When you felt his lips press against your own, you shoved him away, tears overflowing from your eyes again, “I’m dirty Takemura……they….they…touched me…ruined me…m-made me wear this disgusting dress” you whimpered, taking off his jacket and putting it on the chair near you. “I don’t deserve your kiss.”

Takemura was shocked by the way you pushed him, but his eyes softened in worry and care when he heard you speak about how they treated you. It pained him to see you in such a state, especially after being such a genuine and caring person, something that was truly rare in this city.

"You are not dirty, y/n," he said, his voice firm yet tender, as though he wanted to shield you from the pain. "Nor do I care for the clothing that you wear right now." He stepped closer, his expression intense with emotion, as he reached out gently, his hand hovering near yours.

"Y/n, I… I do not know how to say this, but… you are everything to me. My feelings… they are for you alone. Please, do not doubt that."

His words, spoken with such vulnerability and passion, hung in the air, a quiet promise that he would be there for you, no matter what you believed about yourself.

Hearing his soft and caring words made all the walls you've built around yourself crumble. “Takemura,” you whispered his name with love, your heart racing. Without a second thought, you rushed toward him, wrapping your arms around him tightly, and pressed your lips against his, drowning in the moment.

He responded immediately, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. His kiss deepened, the pressure of his lips firm but tender, like he was finally letting go of all the restraint he'd carried for so long. With a smooth motion, he lifted you by your legs, his strong arms supporting you as he effortlessly wrapped your legs around his waist. The shift in position only intensified the connection, his warmth enveloping you, as his kiss became more urgent, more possessive.

You could feel his heartbeat against yours, the heat of his body seeping into you, and it only made the moment feel more real, more electric. His hands caressed your back, holding you to him as if you might disappear at any second. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair, matching his intensity.

A stream of saliva glistened as you pulled away from his lips, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Ah… ah…” you exhaled shakily, your gaze locked deep in his eyes, your body still reeling from the intensity of the moment.

Takemura’s expression twisted with anger as he studied your face, his voice low and tense. "My love… the sides of your mouth… they are bruised. What did they do to you?"

You swallowed, your throat tight as you remembered. “One of the men… forced himself in my mouth. He was rough… and…” You shook your head, trying to push away the memory, your fingers weaving through his hair, seeking comfort in the present.

A growl rumbled in Takemura’s chest, the fire in his eyes was pure fury. "I want to kill every last one of them in that club.” "But I know it will not bring you peace..." His voice softened, the anger melting into something deeper—more personal. "I promise you, I will not let anyone harm you again. Not ever."

You could feel your heart swelling at his words, the weight of everything crashing down on you. “I love you,” you whispered softly, not realizing the gravity of what you’d just said until it escaped your lips.

Takemura chuckled, a quiet, almost intimate sound. “Hmm…” He smirked, his gaze never leaving yours. “I love you as well.”

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours once more, slow and deliberate. The kiss deepened, and with gentle care, he guided you toward the couch. As you lay down together, his weight settled over you, grounding you in the moment.

When he hovered over you, his eyes locked with yours, intense and filled with both respect and love. "May I... touch you?" His voice was steady, but there was a subtle hesitation, as if giving you the space to make your choice. "Only if you are comfortable with it."

“Yes, please” You begged cutely, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down to kiss him again.

As he kissed you, a low rumble emanated from his throat, his kisses deep and filled with love. He wanted to make you feel better, to erase every trace of those men who had touched you, ensuring that only his presence remained—strong and comforting.

As the kiss deepened, you opened your mouth, allowing for his tongue to explore.

Slowly but surely, Takemura’s hands slipped past your revealing dress and pushed its way past your panties. Once he felt your warmth, he pulled away from your lips and began to leave soft kisses along your neck.

“Ah, Takemura!” you moaned cutely, your hands slowly moving down to his back to grab a hold of his shirt.

“Does it feel good, my love?” he whispered softly against your ear, his breath warm as he nibbled gently on it.

“Y-Yes…yes” you cried out, feeling yourself becoming wetter by the minute.

“Good” he chuckled softly, his index finger rubbing your clit in fast circles.

“I-I’m gonna…I’m gonna…T-Takemura…w-wait…mm!” You arched your head back against your couch, a soft and delicate whimper escaping your lips as you had the most pleasurable orgasm.

“Ah” Takemura breathed out heavily as he bite your throat gently when your head was back against the cushion of the couch, wanting to make your orgasm as pleasurable as possible.

When you looked into his eyes again, your hand softly caressed his cheek, your heart swelling with the love and care he showed. “Please, don’t leave me.”

He smiled warmly, his voice steady and full of sincerity. “I won’t, my love. You have my word.” His hand gently caressed your cheek in return, before he pressed a soft, tender kiss to your lips. “Come, let’s get you out of these clothes and into something more comfortable.”

He chuckled, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, cradling you bridal-style. With a gentle stride, he carried you to your room, determined to give you the comfort and peace you deserved.

Oh how Night City can be depressing as fuck, but sometimes it can be rewarding to those that deserve it~

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thirdofdxcember · 10 months ago

Text

GOOD CHEMISTRY ⤵ XANDER HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 1685 words, no use of y/n

STORY: xander is assigned to be your lab partner for an assignment that neither of you really understand

WARNINGS: none!!

A/N: this is actually inspired by a real lab i did in my chem class bc my friend reminded me of xander. a lot of the dialogue is actual real dialogue we had lmao. so yeah fair warning that this isn't very well written just something i threw together for fun :) also i dont understand chemistry at all so sorry if anything's incorrect

“Alright, you may begin.”

You were standing alone in the corner of your science classroom. Your teacher said she was going to randomly assign partners for the lab. But there was an odd number of people, so you were left alone.

You looked around a bit to make sure there wasn’t anyone else who didn’t have a lab partner before walking to the front of the class.

“Uh, Mrs. Watson?” You asked. She looked up from her computer with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes?”

You cleared your throat. “I don’t have a partner.”

She frowned, standing up from her desk and looking over the classroom. “Oh, that’s my mistake. We’re missing a student today, I marked that in attendance. I didn’t realize that when giving partners. My apologies.” She pointed at a pair working at the table in the back corner. “Can I ask you to go join-”

“I’m here!”

The door slammed open and hit the wall with a loud bang! Everyone’s heads turned, and the class went silent. But they all went back to their work when they saw who it was.

“You’re late, Mr. Hawthorne,” Mrs. Watson sighed. “Again.”

Xander’s backpack was slung hastily over one shoulder. He closed the classroom door and nodded. “Yup! Third time this week. But, in my defense-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She pointed at you. “Your partner will tell you what we’re doing. Get to work.”

He nodded again, turning to you and offering a wide smile.

“So… that empty table in the back?”

~~~

Five minutes later, you had everything set up. There were strangely colored chemicals in different tubes, and you were both wearing the aprons and goggles that you were required to.

You looked down and frowned. The aprons themselves were ugly, plus the goggles. You weren’t wearing them, and you really didn’t want to. Part of you wondered if getting burned by a chemical was all that bad after all.

But you kept it on.

With a sigh, you slipped on the goggles and looked up at Xander. He was finishing tying the back of his apron too, and for a moment you just watched him.

His dark hair was tousled, like he hadn’t had time to brush it that morning. You could see just beneath the atrocious apron that he was wearing, that the tie of his school uniform was loosely askew. His tongue was poking slightly out of his mouth in focus as he finished tying the back.

When he finished, Xander’s eyes wandered from the supplies on the table before meeting hours. But at first, neither of you said anything.

You decided to break the silence.

“Nice eyebrow.”

“Thanks,” He grinned. “Grew it myself.”

“And the other?” You asked.

“I was left unattended.”

“Figures.”

Xander motioned towards all the stuff on the table. Tubes, flasks, off-looking liquids. You didn’t know what you were supposed to be doing with any of it. You’d stayed up late writing an entire essay, so you were running on little sleep

Apparently, there was a reason you were given three weeks to write it instead of two hours.

“So what are we doing?” He asked.

“Honestly, I have zero idea,” you told him. “I wasn’t paying any attention.”

“Oh, well, I wasn’t here, so I couldn’t have been paying attention. This is kinda all on you.”

You stepped up to the table and picked up the instructions Mrs. Watson passed out that you hadn’t bothered to read. But reading them over, you realized you didn’t understand any of it.

“This is all, like, fancy chemistry stuff,” you said.

Xander took the paper from you. “Let me see that.” He looked it over for a minute, reading fairly quickly for the amount of small text that was on the paper.

You studied his expression. “Should we ask for help?”

“No-” Xander snapped immediately. “She doesn’t like me.”

“I mean, you are always late.”

“But I am an excellent student!” He insisted as he put down the paper. “She just doesn’t know how to appreciate my gifts.”

“Did you gift her your eyebrow or something?”

He stuck out his tongue at you. “Do you want me to help you finish this lab or not?”

“Fine, fine,” you said, unable to stop the corner of your lips from turning up. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“It’s simple, really,” Xander said, finally letting his tone drop to more serious as he turned to the table. “We’ve gotta take the pH measurements of each of the four liquids, and then mix them together to see if it’ll raise or lower the pH levels.”

You stared at him. “Huh?”

He sighed. “Just open your notebook. We have to hypothesize.”

You did what he said and opened your notebook. Rereading the instruction paper, it said you had to guess what happened when you mix hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide.

“Is that gonna raise or lower the pH, Xander?” You asked without looking up from your paper.

“Raise,” he answered. “More of a base.”

Silence fell between the two of you again as you finished writing your hypotheses. You were pretty sure that yours was absolute nonsense, but at least you had something written.

“Okay, thanks,” you said. Xander took both your and his papers and set them aside. “I’m not necessarily bad at chemistry. I’m just a bit… scientifically challenged.”

“Is that so? That just means I get to teach you. How exciting”

“That’s only half terrifying coming from you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He shrugged. “So, let’s start before Mrs. Watson decides to get mad at me again.”

You quickly learned that “scientifically challenged” was actually a lie. You were, in fact, very bad at chemistry.

pH scales made no sense. Xander had to do all of the measuring, while you just wrote down whatever number and color he gave you. The first was red, the second was a blueish-purple, the third was yellow, and the last was a greenish-blue. You promptly forgot the names of all of them the moment after he’d read them to you, but it was fine. As long as you wrote down the data and got the work done.

Xander smiled at you again, the corners of his eyes wrinkling behind the big goggles. He put his hand up in the air. “High five?”

“We’re not done yet.”

“Okay, but we did the first part. HIgh five me.”

You gave in.

“Alright,” Xander clapped his hands together. “Next step. Mix them together.”

You practically jumped up. “Oooh, can I pour it in?”

“The erlenmeyer flask, yeah.”

“Who’s Meyer?”

He sighed and pointed at the empty flask in the middle of the table. “Pour them both in there.”

“Oh, okay, got it.” You reached for the first tube with a white liquid and poured it into the flask. You then did the same for the pink one next to it. “Can I drink this?” You joked as you poured it in.

“No, you may not.”

You poured them in quickly and waited. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on who you asked, there was no big explosion. Xander stepped forward again and measured the pH.

“Eight,” he explained. “They almost neutralize each other. Key word almost.”

You nodded and the both of you returned to your papers. “So,” you asked. “What do I write in this box?”

He stared at you. “The box that asks for the color?”

“Mhm.”

“You put the color.”

“So… pink?”

Xander rolled his eyes, but he had a smile on his face. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Perhaps.” You got to write the word pink in the box that asked for the final color of the liquid, and then number seven for the pH number.

“Perhaps,” He teased under his breath, putting on a very bad British accent.

You looked up from your work. “Are you bullying me?”

Xander gasped. “No, of course not. I love British people. My brother is half British.”

“What?” You exclaimed. “Who? Which one?”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter, we need to finish the lab.”

“I’m trying, but I don’t understand,” you sighed, deciding to ask him about his family lineage later.

“Have you ever seen Breaking Bad?”

You frowned, that was the most random question. “No.”

“Hm. You learn a lot about chemistry from it. I did.”

“I probably wouldn’t retain any of it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re right.”

You nodded and turned back to both of your papers to work on writing the conclusion, whether or not your hypothesis was correct. Then you realized what he’d just said- that you wouldn’t retain anything.

“Wait, what?”

The bell rang just as Xander handed you his paper, and you went to turn both of yours into the basket at the front of the class. “Thanks,” he said when you returned, slipping his backpack over his shoulder.

“Thank you, actually. I probably would’ve failed if you weren’t my partner.” You laughed.

“Maybe this is your sign to actually pay attention.”

“Maybe this is your sign to show up on time.”

He shrugged. “Why would I do that? I kinda liked working with you.”

“Only kinda?” You teased.

“Sorry, I meant to say I’m obsessed with you and we have to do every single lab together for the rest of time or I will pass away,” Xander said, putting his hands on his chest dramatically.

You rolled your eyes at him, just like he had before. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late for next period.”

“I’m always late,” he shrugged.

You grabbed his wrist and began to walk towards the door. You were the last ones in the class, even the teacher was in a different teacher’s room talking to them. “Yeah, I’m trying to fix that. Let’s go.”

“We don’t even have the same next period.”

“I don’t care, we’re leaving now,” you insisted. Xander sighed reluctantly.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered sarcastically.

But that grin never left his face.

TAGS: (honestly im just gonna keep them down here because it makes the top part look more clean) @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl

@emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @maybxlle

@xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @midiosaamor @sheisntyou - lmk if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist!!

#xander hawthorne #xander hawthorne x reader #alexander hawthorne #xander blackwood hawthorne #alexander blackwood hawthorne #the inheritance games #the grandest game #xander hawthorne x you #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #tig #tgg #tig fanfic #mightier than your sword𓂃🖋

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ladysavich · 3 months ago

Note

Shakes had or tell gossip he a gossiper in team can you made hc shakes be gossip king?

Shakes but as Thee Gossip King

This man has gone snooping so many times he had dirt on everyone in the whole super league.

Lol i can picture Sheikh bribing him to not expose his (expensively) dirty tricks

Sheikh : Shakes! I heard that you and your friend love to play video games! How would a new set up and 219 inch Tv sound? My little gift :D Shakes:... and why are you making this offer 🤨 Sheikh sweating a bit : well..you see Spenza running from a distance and proceeds to shake the sheikh's hand :WE ACCEPT!! IT WAS A PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU!! Sheikh : Wonderful!! 😊 Shakes: Spenza!!! Spenza: what?????

And we don't talk about Buddy Watsons..That man is willing to slap a bag of cash at shakes face any time

Lol Uragiri as well

The only coach that wouldn't try and bribe him would be Coach Belmoth, Inyo and probably coach del aqua

The amount of times this dude has found dirt on another player is absolutely astronomical

Def gossips a lot with El Matador. El Matador practically knows everything Shakes knows.

His ideal gossip partners would also be tiger and cool Joe.

I mean look at them.

I can picture tiger being a natter addict. He has done his fair share of celebrity gossip research.

But realistically speaking Shakes would never actually post about the other teams online. However he would make inside jokes with his teammates and a few other friends on the opposition side.

Sometimes he uses them as blackmail (Mostly bluffing)

Vince gets a taste of his own medicine

sometimes he posts very vague messages on natter that no one would understand but the football stars.

"Remembering the time Buddy payed for a lavish hotel room for el matador and not the rest of us :("

"Uragiri is such an amazing coach. Tiger misses him a lot 🙂🙄"

"Does anyone know who that man was with dooma when he first joined Invincible? He looked like a doctor🤔"

Basically a bunch of trolling

Thank you for sending this *chefs kiss* request. This was fun to write.🎀

#supa strikas hc #supablr #supa strikas #supa strikas fans #supa strikas headcanons #supa strikas shakes #shakes #El matador #supa strikas el matador

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comicedit · 3 months ago

Text

WOMEN IN COMICS ROUNDUP!

Hello! We have reached the end of the Women in Comics event, and we thank you all for your participation! We hope everyone enjoyed themselves and it's something we hope to continue in the future. A response form will be coming out in the next few days, but in the time being, here is the collection of everything people created throughout the week! We hope you all enjoy supporting everyone else's work, and that everyone enjoys reblogging each other's creations!

WEEK ONE, FAVOURITE WOMAN

Zatanna Zatara graphic by @superb0y

Starfire graphic by @biohazbat

Illyana Rasputin graphic by @roguestorm

Kwannon graphic by @esteicy-blog

Rogue graphic by @roguestorm

Jane Foster gifset by @beheworthy

Donna Troy graphic by @dsnnatroy

Idie Okonkwo graphic by @roguestorm

Mary Jane Watson graphic by @spider-mandaily

Gwen Stacy gifset by @screengifs

Lorna Dane graphic by @esteicy-blog

Wanda Maximoff graphic by us!

Felicia Hardy graphic by @spider-mandaily

Dani Moonstar graphic by @roguestorm

Dinah Lance graphic by @dsnnatroy

Jean Grey graphic by us!

Lady Sif gifset by @screengifs

Betsy Braddock graphic by @roguestorm

Gwen Stacy graphic by @spider-mandaily

Cassandra Cain graphic by @violetpaiges

Madelyne Pryor graphic by @esteicy-blog

Kitty Pryde moodboard by @bistec-musings

Medusa Amaquelin icons by @leoxxii

Laura Kinney graphic by @roguestorm

Jessica Drew graphic by @spider-mandaily

Jubilee graphic by @roguestorm

Beatriz Da Costa icons by us!

WEEK TWO, FAVOURITE WOMEN-LED PROJECT

Ironheart (2019) graphic by @roguestorm

Batgirl (2000) graphic by @violetpaiges

Barda (2024) graphic by @roguestorm

Psylocke (2024) graphic by @kwxnnxn

Storm (2014) graphic by @roguestorm

Silk (2022) graphic by @violetpaiges

Fearless Defenders (2013) graphic by @roguestorm

A-Force (2015) graphic by @leoxxii

Psylocke (2024) graphic by @roguestorm

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse gifset by @spider-mandaily

Captain Marvel (2019) gifset by @screengifs

Black Canary (2015) graphic by @roguestorm

Spider-Man (2022) graphic by @spider-mandaily

Catwoman (2011) graphic by @roguestorm

WEEK THREE, FAVOURITE FEMALE RELATIONSHIP

Monet St. Croix & Karima Shapander graphic by @roguestorm

Wanda Maximoff & Lorna Dane graphic by @imperiuswrecked

Laura & Sarah Kinney graphic by @roguestorm

Barbara Gordon & Cassandra Cain graphic by @violetpaiges

Raven Darkhölme & Irene Adler graphic by @roguestorm

Tora Olafsdotter & Beatriz Da Costa graphic by @superb0y

Cindy Moon & Felicia Hardy graphic by @violetpaiges

Zatanna Zatara & Mickey Dowling graphic by @roguestorm

Harley Quinn & Poison Ivy icons by @violetpaiges

Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop gifset by @screengifs

Xuân Cao Mạnh & Dani Moonstar graphic by @roguestorm

Medusa Amaquelin & She-Hulk stimboard by @leoxxii

Sersi & Makkari graphic by @roguestorm

Barbara Gordon & Dinah Lance graphic by @dsnnatroy

WEEK FOUR, FAVOURITE OBSCURE WOMAN

Leiko Wu graphic by @atlasfoundation

Doctor Light graphic by @superb0y

Lady Dorma graphic by @imperiuswrecked

Infecta graphic by @kwxnnxn

Janet Drake, Shonda Kinsolving and Vicki Vale graphic by @biohazbat

Jade Nguyen graphic by @dsnnatroy

Captain Swain stimboard by @leoxxii

Victoria Bentley graphic by @roguestorm

Magda Eisenhardt graphic by @esteicy-blog

Bella Garten graphic by @violetpaiges

Nekra graphic by us!

Luna Maximoff graphic by @esteicy-blog

Minxi stimboard by @leoxxii

Lady Bright icons by @violetpaiges

Janine Godbe graphic by @iridescent-kicks

Thank you again for participating! If we missed something, please don't hesitate to send a link in our inbox, and we'll make sure to add you!

#*blogpost #cewomen25

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gilgamushroom · 2 years ago

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Ahwhshsywj Sherlock's reaction to Watson's report has got to be one of his funniest moments ever like

"Okay my dear Watson PLEASE tell me everything and spare no details 🥰 ...Uh if you could cut out the wall poetry? Would you mind?? Yeesh 🙄 No no, thank you for all these details you've done such an amazing job 🤩 Oh no you DID miss everything important lmao. Doubt anyone could have done better tho 💖 I mean. You're literally so handsome and charming you could have flirted with the entire village for info???💃 Or AT LEAST one service lady COME ON 🙄 Ah well what can you do let's go out to a violin concert and fancy dinner 🎶"

#what i'm saying is watson went through every emotion known to man during this scene #letters from watson #sherlock holmes

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inevitably-johnlocked · 2 months ago

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Steph! I am overjoyed! One of my favourite Johnlock writers has come back and is writing a sequel to one of my favourite fanfictions ever! I am so happy I am squealing! I am sending this ask because I remember you once recommended some of their fanfictions and that’s how I first found them! I still can't believe this 😭😭😭😭 (Oh no I cannot link the work anonymously but it's GubraithianFire! They are continuing the Shameless!lock AU and it sounds exciting it has been 10 years)

Anonymous asked: Hi Steph! I don’t remember if I shoot an ask already about this a few weeks ago but my favorite writer came back to add a sequel to a fanfiction of theirs after like 10 years and I am so very delighted and the story is so good so far and I actually discovered this writer thanks to your recs so AHHH I don’t know, I just wanted to tell you!! this is the fic by the way! https://archiveofourown.org/works/64107982

Breathing, together. by GubraithianFire (E, 32,563+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Shameless Fusion AU || Dysfunctional Family, Healing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Humour, PTSD, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Addiction / Use, Breaking Up and Making Up, Sequel / Not-Stand-Alone) – John is finally the sole legal guardian for his six younger siblings. He and Sherlock are dating again, and for the first time in his twenty years of life, John feels like things are looking up. So why is everything falling apart? Or: John (finally) deals with his trauma. Sequel to Save Me or Let Me Drown. Part 2 of The Watsons Series

=====

OH MY GOD NONNY I thought I answered this one a week ago, UGH. I KNEW I missed a rec fic. Thanks for sending it to me again, I'm so sorry.

THAT SAID, this author has returned from a 10 year hiatus, so let's all go give them some support and love on their newest fic!!!!!!

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #signal boost #shameless au fics #fusion fics #crossover fics

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starssaroundmyscarssblog · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

pairing: teen!noel gallagher x fem!oc (fern gibson <3)

summary: in which noel tries not to get jealous over someone who he knows he shouldn't be worried about, and fern gets high for the first time to soothe the blow

word count: 2.92k

warnings: smoking, swearing, sexual references, mentions of past relationships with people who are now in a position of authority,

PART TWO IS HERE

noel was fucking fuming.

he tapped out the butt of his cigarette against the low pillars of the gates, grumbling and crushing it under his shoe. the bell had gone ten minutes ago, and there was still no sign of fern emerging from the brick building. noel was about to light up another and he drew a cigarette out of the packet with his teeth as his other hand reached into his jacket pocket for a lighter.

chesc and eloise emerged from around the corner, giggling behind their hands as they walked down the road to the bus stop. before they managed to cross, noel whistled out of the corner of his mouth and he beckoned the girls over when they looked up at the noise.

"have yous seen fern anywhere?"

chesc shook her head, "sorry, no. i can't remember what she had last."

he muttered again and was about to spin around on his heel to leave, thinking that waiting by her car would be a better idea. eloise pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket before he could leave, though. she adjusted her glasses onto her nose. "yeah, that's it. she's had philosophy."

"oh." noel nodded. then upon his second drag after offering it over to eloise, "ah. that does sound familiar now you say. how long d'you think she'll be?"

"anyone's guess. i'm sure they'd let you wait inside for her if you want."

he could have laughed at the notion. "nah, you're all righ'. your, er," he gestured down the road, "the bus is here if that's useful for ya."

eloise made an angry grab at his hand and pulled it closer to her mouth for one last, final drag and she exhaled slowly. "c'mon you," chesc pulled at the sleeve of her blazer, "if we don't hurry up all of the good seats'll be gone."

both girls crossed the road and chorused out "bye, noel" over their shoulders. then, just his luck as the last embers of his cigarette died out on his finger tips, fat drops of rain fell one by one from the rolling grey clouds. he dropped the butt out of mild shock and out of irritancy he hiked his shoulders up to his ears and walked through the gates.

he hadn't ever been too far into fern's school, only really up to the top of the stairs where they sometimes sat together during her lunch break in the summer term. noel pushed forwards through the open doors, sidling up to the reception desk where the receptionist was staring down rather intently at a form requesting absence during term time.

noel cleared his throat. "'ello." he said, tapping his knuckles awkwardly on the desk, "i'm looking for fern gibson. she's, er, late for her driving lesson." he hoped his lie would work.

the receptionist clicked her pen and held it from one end in her claw-like fingers, using it to push his hands away. "her last class of the day was philosophy with mr watson. however if she's not there i'm afraid i can't help you as it is technically after school hours."

"right . . . thanks?" noel remained rooted to the spot.

"will that be everything?" she asked, sighing heavily as she looked up once again from the document, expecting his to have gone.

"no, could you tell me which classroom it was? just in case she's there."

"h7, up the stairs and all the way down the corridor, take a left and then three rights. you'll see it, can't be missed."

noel's feet propelled him down the languages corridor off the main hall and away from the receptionist. he traipsed up the stairs and was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable in the environment. it was all polished wooden floors and high ceilings, long windows with even longer curtains and framed pictures as far as the eye could see.

he tried to imagine fern walking around between classes, sitting at desks and listening intently; it wasn't a hard task. what was tricky, though, was trying to see her walking around his catholic secondary school, sans blazer and clearly out of her depth amongst the sort of people who flocked through the blue gates every morning.

instead he could see fern perched in window sills along corridors with eloise and chesc, whispering to each other and talking about their weekend plans. at some point he hoped fern would talk about him, perhaps what film she'd forced him to watch or how nice he could actually be when he felt like the world and its mother wasn't watching him.

right at the end of the second right turn was the sports corridor, and noel's attention was dragged away from daydreaming about fern to looking at the glossy pictures secured behind hand-crafted frames. football teams were lined up next to newspaper clippings and cut outs from scoresheets at inter-school competitions.

in one about tennis, where a year eleven had won out in a city-based championship, there was a picture of a twelve year old girl running frantically across the court. noel recognised the name, lottie reid, because liam had come home one day swearing blind she was the squarest girl he'd ever met.

he complained as he kicked the football at the wall, complained as he was forced to sit at the dinner table and complete his spelling homework, and complained as he and noel were brushing their teeth much later that evening.

further along and finally in the corridor after the third right turning, were copied and framed prize-winning essays written by students. he saw something fern had written about the reformation, an essay by the girl she hated, jessica, about the harrying of the north, and something eloise had written about pride within 'othello'.

the door of h7 appeared halfway along, and noel breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the back of fern's head through the sliver of glass. his relief was short lived however, when he noticed fern was leaning closer to talk over the desk towards a student teacher.

something in him clicked then, his beaten up leather jacket and scuffed trainers weighing heavily on his shoulders and feet in a school he shouldn't ever have been anywhere near. noel knocked on the door and regretted it as soon as he did, though fern's face breaking out into a wide smile when she turned and saw him settled an unease lurking at the back of his mind.

she walked steadily over to the door and opened it, pulling him in with a hand around his arm. "noel!" if his reluctancy wasn't obvious by his slow steps then he didn't know how he was going to tell fern, without grabbing her by the shoulders and telling it to her face, how he was increasingly uncomfortable and wanted to leave as soon as possible.

he stood near the door and cast his eyes around the room, much bigger than any class than he could remember at barlow r.c. there were desks placed two by two, covered in ink stains and spills running through the knots of wood on the surface. fern's place, in the middle of the room, was obvious. her blazer was draped over the back and she'd hooked her bag over her chair delicately.

noel looked at her looking intently at her teacher who looked vaguely familiar. fern was nodding and humming, occasionally pointing her pen at something she agreed with before writing it down at the end of her essay. he tapped his fingers against his thigh in impatience, looking at the hands of the clock inch further round the numbers, and noel wished he wouldn't ever start thinking that looking at fern was boring.

there was a slight smudge of eyeliner out of place from where she'd rubbed at it. behind her ear was a pink bruise blossoming into a deeper shade of mauve, and noel knew there was a matching one on the back of her calf. right on the tip of her chin was a dash of pen in the colour he knew eloise used. her nails drummed rhythmically on the back of her refill pad in a constant meter. fern's leg was bouncing up and down in a tell that noel knew meant she was impatient to leave.

"but i think that's everything for you there, fern, so if you get the chance to add some improvements leave it on my desk monday morning and i'll get it back to you as soon as i can."

noel nearly let out an audible sigh of relief as fern started to pack her things away into her bag. she winked at him as she pulled her blazer on and hiked the straps of her bag higher up her shoulder. "thanks, sir. sorry to keep you."

he followed fern as she walked closer to noel, wrapping her hand over his wrist in preparation to drag him out of the classroom. "no no, it's no trouble at all miss gibson. i'm here whenever you need me."

it was noel who was ready to grab fern and run then, when her teacher, who's face had just been connected to a name in his mind, left his hand on her shoulder. he hoped she wouldn't blush. a light tinge flooded from fern's nose and she cleared her throat to rush out a thank you before wrenching the door open and shutting it firmly behind her.

she looked at noel guiltily, and avoided his stern gaze by pretending to pat her pockets down for something. "don't even start i'm not in the mood for it," she said and shot off down the corridor without another look behind her.

fern marched around corners and down the large stair case. she shoved open the doors to the school with her shoulder, leaving just enough time for noel to grab them and slip out behind her. the receptionist had gone home, leaving half-completed paperwork abandoned on the desk.

it was still raining when fern reached her car, and her hand slipped from the handle when she tried too hard too quickly to open it. when noel eventually caught up with her, fern was leaning diagonally with her forehead planted against the roof of her car, bag hanging open on her shoulder.

noel gently took her car keys from her hand and opened the car for her, feeling like he was folding her up and unravelling her in the drivers seat. fern slumped forwards and lay, rather dramatically, over the steering wheel as noel sat in awkward silence. he began to shuffle through the cassette tapes he'd filled the glovebox with in an effort to distract himself from fern's theatrical display of emotion.

eventually, fern slowly fixed herself upright. "sorry," she sighed, "i didn't know he was coming back. really."

when fern pulled onto her driveway, rather quickly sending her and noel jolting sideways, she was still arguing with him. "i'm telling you, i didn't know he'd come back." she unlocked the front door and stormed up the stairs, and noel heard a crash he assumed was her school bag being thrown into a corner of her room.

"that's not what i care about, fern, and ye fucking know it." noel yelled back, hanging his jacket over the banister at the foot of the stairs. she blazed past him still in her uniform and beelined for the kitchen. noel followed her, ignoring her setting up her notebook on the breakfast bar. he stood on the other side of the counter, arms folded over his chest.

fern glared up at him, pen held so tightly her knuckles were turning white. "well then what is it you do care about, noel?"

"that you didn't tell me when he did come back. you know i can't fuckin stand him and you never even thought to pissin' tell me!" he argued back, fighting the urge to grab the essay fern had written, that was covered in his handwriting, in both hands and tear it apart.

she scoffed behind her hand. "like that would have gone well."

noel pulled his head up to look right at her. fern had her eyes cast down to where she was re-writing parts of her homework onto a blank piece of paper, chin balanced on her hand as her eyebrows raised in anticipation for his response. he could hear her smirk and when she let out a little scoff and mumbled "thought so" noel opened the french doors and stepped out onto the patio.

fern watched out of the corner of her eye as he brushed down one of the chairs from the set of patio furniture and lit up a cigarette. against her better judgement, fern stared at the flex of his vein as noel clicked his lighter a few times, tucking it into his pocket once the cigarette he held in his lips caught the flame.

she tried to look at her essay and really take in the feedback she'd gotten from mr watson, but the glint in his eye when he told fern that noel was shuffling about outside the classroom kept her mind away from school work. outside, noel reached out to tap the end of his cigarette out in the ash tray abandoned in the middle of the table, but when he noticed fern shuffle her chair slightly closer to the doors noel moved his hand to the side.

fern was out of her chair and right infront of him faster than he could blink. "do you mind not tapping it out on the actual table? there's an ash tray for a reason."

"thought you were too busy reading what hugo's written specially."

if anyone else had spoken to her like that, noel would have expected fern to flounce away with a sharp turn of her heel. instead all he did was simply hold out the cigarette to her. she put her hand out to take it from him but noel only gestured with his head for her to sit down next to him. eyeing him cautiously, fern sank into the chair and leaned closer.

noel lifted up the cigarette to her lips and fern took a long drag, exhaling heavily. "come on. i'm really sorry."

"yeah, i know."

it wasn't that noel didn't like hugo (it really was, he fucking hated the cunt), it was more the fact that fern had a thing with him before he left to become a teacher. hugo was a year older than fern and noel, and while noel didn't associate with anyone or anywhere related to st augistine's day and boarding school, it left him with an uneasy feeling of dread whenever fern or her friends would mention her old boyfriend around him.

he had trouble with saying the words 'i'm sorry' even to fern, so offering her the rest of his cigarette was the next best thing. noel watched her cheeks hollow as she took the last three drags, and patted his knee when felix came streaking around from the side of the garden shed to preen around his legs. the small cat hopped up onto noel's lap and settled there, contently purring away, until a bird landed in the middle of the garden.

felix dug his claws in and pounced, using noel as a spring board and, not looking back at the small "fuck" that sent fern's eyebrows raising into her fringe, stretched his small body out for the bird that fluttered away as quickly as it had landed.

as felix settled into the middle of the garden, stalking away into the bushes to claw his way up the trees where the birds were chirping eagerly, noel thought enough time had passed to allow him to broach the question to fern. "are you still okay to drop me off at mike's tonight?"

she hummed. "i was thinking of coming with you, actually."

"that'll be-" noel had half-risen from his chair and remained so still it was like he'd been paused. "what?"

fern looked at him, feigning confusion. "last night, you said i could come with you if i wanted to."

"ha, um, look fern i wasn't really thinking perfectly straight when i said that." she pulled the same face at him that she'd done the night before. the one she made right before she pulled him into her room after mrs gibson had let him in through the front door, and pushed him down onto the middle of her bed only for fern to get halfway through palming him through his trousers when she declared she had homework to do.

upon recollection, in his haze of fleeting pleasure, there was a slight chance that noel had let the question slip. the look in fern's eye was far too much to take even for him, and he would have given in there and then if it wasn't for the chance that one of her neighbours could look out of their window to see a pair of teenagers getting it on in her parent's garden.

if anything, noel knew he had to make up for his overreaction to fern choosing, probably for the better because he knew he could be a miserable cunt at the best of times, not to tell him about hugo watson. he sighed and led her back inside, only to ask if he could use the phone.

"fine, you can come. but none of this prissy princess bullshit, and don't smoke, eat or drink anything that i don't give directly to you."

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎸

#noel gallagher #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x oc #noel gallagher fluff #noel gallagher smut #oasis #britpop #fluff #manchester #90s #fem!reader #fem!oc #oasis x reader #noel gallagher x fem!oc #oasis x fem!oc #oasis x oc

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amypihcs · 11 months ago

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And now gossip girl Watson part 1

HEEEELOOOOO HONOURABLES!

Hope you're not boiling alive in this scorching summer. Let's plunge into the much cooler English October, shall we?

And now we'll see in Watson's own words how much he gossiped to Holmes!

And now, What do you write, doctor?

Fist that he misses him so so much <3 And that a vacation on the moor wouldn't be a bad one, if they are together!

And then we start with the business!

And ooooh boy.

HE'S NEVER LETTING HOLMES LIVE THAT DOWN, his... ideas on the solar system. But look at how affictionated that sentence sounds <3

Some pink chronicle, so to speak! Watson is quite close to Holmes' idea that a love affair might... complicate matters. And how to find any fault in it!

They are being cute together and Watson is worrying for his orders.

BECAUSE OF COURSE HE WON'T BE ABLE TO FOLLOW THEM TO THE LETTER!

Now, more country gossip

He's a nice guy, even if litigious to a fault!

And of course that telescope is used to look for the escaped convict!

All in all, nice people! But now, i gossiped enough to you, my darling Holmes, let's go back to business!

Watson is working great, and probing all aspects of the case. Barrymore confesses easy to have not received the telegram in his hands, but everything's alright after all!

If only... Watson is VERY WORRIED for Mrs Barrymore, and there's been yet ANOTHER accident surrounding the Barrymores!

Thank god Watson can't quite sleep well when he's so tense! What is Barrymore doing so secretively?

UHm. Sensibly, he speaks to sir Henry about it.

What's he looking for out of the window, my dear Holmes? Oh well, don't worry too much for me, i'll send you more gossip, we have a plan. Love you Holmes, remember to eat and sleep, and come here quickly <3

And we'll see what comes out of this in the next episode!

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #dr watson #jeremy brett #unnecessarily handsome #edward hardwicke #the dark side with kind eyes #victorian husbands #asexual falling hard for actors from an 80s show #MUAHAHHAH THE POWER OF GIIIIIFS

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jhilsara · 1 year ago

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I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Characters are completely aged up and this takes place after what will happen in beyond the spiderverse. I just made a little MJ variant and I think she's neat. I've been writing standalone scenes of her life after meeting Hobie and my friends really liked it so I thought I'd polish it up a little and post it. Nothing serious just some silly fun. (also I'm sorry I'm just not a y/n person, I just want to make characters who are developed and can have their own distinct personalities.) My MJ may not be for everyone but I hope you give her a shot.

Can also be read on Ao3 X

Chapter 1

She’s wiping off the counter and looking over at the small dodgy stage the pub has in the corner. She’s surprised the thing hasn’t collapsed in on itself. It has a couple of the instruments set up already for the band tonight. She feels someone bump her hip and she looks over to see her coworker raising a brow at her.

“Why don’t you wrap up early? You’re meeting your friends, right?” Andy asks her smiling.

MJ shrugs, “It ends in like fifteen and the band doesn’t start for another twenty. It’s fine, I don’t even think they've walked in yet.”

“Go on, grab a good spot at the front. I got it back here.” Andy encourages.

MJ rolls her eyes and keeps cleaning, “No seriously. I don’t even know who this band is. My friends want to see them. I’ll wrap it up in ten and look for them. I need to change out of these clothes anyway.”

“Whatever, you know half of the girls in here are already buzzin’. They’ve been drinking for the past hour looking for a shot of courage.” Andy says laughing.

MJ nudges her letting some giggles out too, “Stop, Andy! Leave them alone, they’re barely old enough to get in. They just want to see some hot musicians.”

“Who’s gonna tell them that most of the musicians are indeed, not hot, when they do small pub shows like us?” Andy says starting to pop open a beer for a customer.

“Oh, come off it, apparently this band does everything and anything. Good too, at least my friends say.” MJ says handing Andy another beer for the same group.

“You better clock out, you’ll miss your window to not be trapped back here.” Andy tells her looking at the clock.

“Oh shit, thanks!” MJ quickly dodges around the bar to get to the back so she can grab her bag and change.

She rushes into the bathroom and quickly changes into something a little cuter than her pub shirt and black slacks.

She pulls her rosy pink slip dress out and easily slides it on. Shoving her other clothes into her backpack. She adjusts her necklaces and looks into the mirror, checking to make sure her hair’s still passible. She adjusts the twin buns but just shrugs a minute later. It’s a punk show it doesn’t matter if she looks nice. She checks to make sure nothings on her and makes her way back out.

She throws her bag back where her other belongings are and wades through a decent sized crowd. She can’t find her friends but does make her way to the front. She checks her phone and sees that her friends had texted and canceled coming last minute. She groans in irritation, and turns to try and leave but the crowd has gotten thicker and she’s stuck. She’s jostled into someone who grabs her waist and she whips her head around smacking the hands.

“Hands off!” she growls looking up at the man. He throws his hands up but his grin is slimey. MJ keeps her glare.

“You bumped into me sweetie.” He chuckles.

She rolls her eyes, “Doesn’t mean you get handsy with me.” She mutters turning back to the stage.

She sees her coworker Lars come out to push the crowd back, she feels a little better knowing she has an easy escape if she needs to. He settles in the corner of the stage, watching the crowd. Within a few seconds the band comes out and she settles a bit. She might as well enjoy the show.

She feels someone sidle up to her side, pressing into her, and she turns her head to see the same man from before smiling at her.

“Back up. I don’t play this game.” She hisses out shoving him off of her.

“C’mon, not a big deal, it’s a massive crowd in here. It’s tight is all.” He says slurring his words.

MJ puffs her cheeks in irritation and points her finger into his chest, “Do not fucking touch me again.” She flashes her eyes over to Lars and he nods his head, acknowledging her.

The guy takes a step back but is still looking at her in a predatory way that makes her skin crawl. She turns to the stage to try and pay attention to the band.

The music’s loud, booming, and it has her moshing with a small group near the front. She’s having a blast for the first few songs, then she feels it.

The guy that’s next to her starts to grab her bum. She turns around and slaps the guy across the face, “I said to not fucking touch me!” She shouts at him. The music’s too loud, the lights are in her eyes, and her bodies hot with rage and adrenaline. She turns to try and spot Lars but the man grabs her by the arm tightly, pulling her closer.

“C’mon I know a slag like you when I see one,” He starts to say, mouth too close to her face so she can smell how intoxicated he is.

She reels back her free arm, hand curled into a fist, but before she can deck the drunk someone else does.

She sees combat boots fly by and her eyes widen as she sees the guitarist drop kick the guy who’s grabbing her.

Her jaw falls open in shock as the man lands perfectly fine in front of her. His guitar strapped to his back is all she sees as he stands between her and the man he just sent to the floor. She for the first time in a while, is stunned speechless.

“Mate, I don’t know who raised ya, but we don’t touch people without consent at my shows.” The guitarist says, voice deep and his face hard as he glares at the man on the ground.

The man tries to crawl off the ground, the crowd around them parting to see what’s happening.

“She’s with me man! What’s your problem?” the man tries to defend pointing at her.

Her anger continues to boil and she opens her mouth to defend herself but the guitarist responds first.

He nudges his head back to her and gives a bitter laugh, “Ya need a better lie cause she’s with me.” He tells him.

She shuts her mouth, looking at him like he’s mad for only a second. She most certainly is not with him but she sure as hell will act like it. She doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night with some creep touching her.

Her eyes flash to the other guy who’s face pales, “Sorry, sorry!” He throws his hands up in defense laughing, “Didn’t know she was yours!”

The guitarist shakes his head and crosses his arms tsking at the man. “Wooooooooow,” he drags out exaggeratedly. “She doesn’t belong to anyone.” He says, and gives a small chuckle.

The other guy is looking at him, a little in fear, as he tries to laugh along with him. The guitarist quickly stops chuckling and throws a quick but hard punch to the creep’s face.

“Apologize to her.” The guitarist demands voice harsh and cold.

The man’s holding his bruising cheek, looking at her eyes filled with fear, “M’sorry alright! I won’t touch you again I swear!” he shouts rushing through his words.

The guitarists steps forward getting closer to the guy at eye level, “For the record, it shouldn’t take me lying about us being a couple for ya to respect her.”

The second he steps back MJ sees Lars come through and grabs the guy dragging him off. He tries to fight against Lars but that man is bigger than most and he works in security for a reason.

“You alright?” The guitarist asks his voice much softer, turning around to face her.

She’s stunned for a moment and just nods her head, “Uh yeah, yeah, thanks.” She says shocked.

“No problem.” He grins and jumps back on the stage.

She’s a little floored at what just happened but she looks around her and the crowd has closed in again, looking back up at the stage.

“Sorry for the delay there, but a not so friendly reminder, don’t act like a prick and touch people without consent ya? You will not be escorted out without a black eye.” One of the other band members says addressing the crowd.

The crowd roars with cheering as they start up another song, MJ really can only laugh and just rolls with it. The whole time making intensely too much eye contact with the tall guitarist whose wicks frame his face as he vibes with the music.

By the time the shows over, she’s able to wiggle herself out with the help of Lars. A lot of the crowd stays, still high off the show.

“Great save back there Lars, maybe we should hire that guy when people get handsy with the staff.” She jokes smacking his chest.

“Piss off MJ, I was gonna throw him out after you clocked him but, well, I didn’t have to.” He laughs holding the door to the back open.

“Night Lars, seriously though, thanks for taking the guy out.” She laughs going to grab her backpack and head back home.

He shakes his head at her and steps back helping to pack up the band’s equipment.

“Oi! Hey,” The guitarist from before comes up to Lars, “Is that girl here? The one who had that prick touch her? I wanted to talk to her.” He says.

Lars looks over him curiously raising a brow, “Oh, no she left. She works here if you wanted to try to find her.” He offers casually.

“No, no, just wanted to know she’s okay.” The guitarist replies shoving his hands in his vest pockets.

“Oh, I promise she’s fine, takes a lot more than that to shake her.” Lars chuckles. “She gave me a warning look and I was ready to grab him when he put his hands on her.”

“Good, good.” The guitarist nods in approval. He starts to walk back towards his band, who’s packing up the last of their stuff.

He keeps the name of the pub in the back of his head with the image of a pink girl with maroon colored hair.

Two weeks pass and MJ’s behind her bar working on a few drinks when she sees a seemingly familiar face plop a seat.

She gives the person their drink and turns to address the new face, when she’s met with a familiar voice. “Hey stranger.” The guitarist from before greets cheekily leaning into the bar top.

She beams at him, “Hey! Lars told me you were asking around for me after the show. Sorry I didn’t stay.”

He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No biggie, just wanted to know you were fine is all.”

She gives a soft laugh shaking her head, “Trust, I’m good. I was gonna clock him and let Lars handle him but…” She trails off giving him a pointed look, “You handled it just fine.” She teases.

“Oof, I woulda loved to see ya give him a mean right hook though.” He chuckles.

She shakes her head in disbelief, “Maybe next time.” She smiles softly.

“Oh? Already planning the next time we’ll hit someone who’s being a sexist prick?” he smirks leaning closer to her on the bar top.

She gives him a genuine laugh, loud and it shakes her body. “Absolutely.”

A beat of silence passes between them before she decides its time to do her job, “So, what can I get ya?”

“Your name preferably.” He replies easily flashing her a smile.

Genuine surprise flashes across her face and then a hot flush across her cheeks.

“Depends,” She fires back, teasingly. He raises a brow at her.

“I’m MJ to most people, especially the ones I’ve just met.” She says easily. Grabbing a clean glass.

Something lights up in his eyes for a split second, like he’s found something he’s been looking for.

“I like that, what’s it short for?” He presses.

“Mmmm, I don’t know, you are asking for my government name and I don’t even have your first name.” She says playfully tilting her head.

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He says without giving it a second thought.

She bites her lip, hesitating, but caves under his warm eyes. She feels a pull towards this man, and maybe she’s just projecting because he stuck his neck out for her, but she feels pulled to him none the less.

“Mariana Jimenez-Watson.” She gives him.

He grins so big it could almost split his face, “I like Mariana.” He tells her softly.

Her face warms up again and she turns to fill the glass with water. “Let’s settle for MJ alright?” she says.

“Alright.” He murmurs.

#my art #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #MJ Watson #spiderman fanfiction #spider punk #spiderpunk

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lilaclily00 · 20 days ago

Text

Tiempo de Vals

archiveofourown.org

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: QSMP | Quackity SMP, Guapoverso - Fandom, Guapoverse - Fandom, GuapoDuo - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rafael Lange | Cellbit/Roier, Rafael Lange | Cellbit & Darryl Noveschosch | BadBoyHalo Characters: Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Roier (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch | BadBoyHalo, Phil Watson | Philza, Noah Brown | Foolish Gamers, some other people are mentioned but I don't think it's worth listing out Additional Tags: Spiderbit Month, Spiderbit Month 2025, thank you for hosting @atthebell! it was really nice to find inspiration for this monster of a oneshot, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Cannibalism, Cannibalism (Mentioned), it really is just talked about not actually done on-screen, Married Rafael Lange | Cellbit/Roier, Rafael Lange | Cellbit Loves Roier, Roier Loves Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Vampire Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Vampire Roier (Video Blogging RPF), Vague Mentions of Cellbit & BadBoyHalo in the Hunger Games, let me know if I missed any useful tags! Summary:

Vampire!Cellbit and Vampire!Roier have been married for a century. They arrive on the Spanish-speaking train as surprise guests to Quesadilla Island. The Federation does the impossible.

I'm just barely getting this uploaded in time!!! (Apologies for the whack formatting of the post, I put the AO3 link after everything else)

(SPIDERBIT MONTH WEEK 1: VAMPIRES)

AN: Okay, maybe you think using "Tiempo de vals" by Chayanne for the title is silly, if you know the context, but it's, in fact, even more fitting because of the context. Chayanne technically has a connection to the QSMP, because Missa named his and Phil's egg after him; one of his songs also appears in that 7-23 Cellboier playlist. But in real life, "Tiempo de vals" is THE quinceañera song. At some point, it became a tradition (or inside joke?) to do a choreographed dance routine to this song. Way more often than not, the song plays at a quince. It's strange, because I think most people probably feel exasperated or annoyed when the song comes on, because this has been a thing for literal decades now, but I know what it feels like when you're expecting them to play "Tiempo de vals" and... they never do. It doesn't feel like a refreshing change of pace. It feels like something's wrong, like the world is off-kilter and void of a fundamental truth for a moment. A glitch in the matrix.

It reminds me of immutable facts of life, of forevers. It also reminds me of the feeling of absence. It's not necessarily taking something for granted until it's gone, but missing something that was never supposed to leave you in the first place.

-_-_-_

It was a pretty normal day for Cellbit and Roier. They were feeling peckish, so they went to the local bar that night for a bite. It was easier to manage not killing anyone or getting themselves in trouble, that way, when their victims were too drunk to tell up from down. Plus, they got some of the poor humans’ alcohol from their blood; Roier loved being able to tease Cellbit about living up to his Drunk Of the Year award.

Anyway- that night, they’d taken out back two drunk best friends to snack on, and found the train tickets in their pockets for that exciting vacation they’d blabbered on about earlier.

“Quesadilla Island? Have you ever even heard of it?” Roier asked as he held the tickets up to the porchlight.

“No, but the way they were talking, it’s a secret paradise,” Cellbit muttered, more to himself than to his partner, as he went about cleaning and covering up the bites on the humans’ arms. The less vampire bites witnessed, the less likely they would be caught and run out of town. “Frankly, it sounded too good to be true.”

“Eh, maybe,” Roier conceded, but he still pocketed the tickets. “I bet they try to bleed you dry out of money.”

“That, and the palm trees are made out of cardboard.” Cellbit snorted. He stood up and dusted himself off. “What’re the dates on it?”

“It’s only for one way, and it’s next week.”

Cellbit squinted at him. “One-way? For a vacation?”

“Hey, hey, look at it this way!” Roier grinned at him, squeezing his shoulder as they slipped out of the alley. “If we go and it’s actually paradise, then we can just enjoy it! If it’s terrible, then you’ll finally have a reason to revive that old conspiracy blog!”

Cellbit guffawed, slapping Roier’s arm away. “Shut up! No one was reading that thing even in 2005!”

“If Uggs can come back, so can your blog that loaded at 3 pixels a minute, mi amor,” he teased as he dug back up one of the tickets and handed it over to his husband.

-_-_-_

Packing up for a vacation had a very familiar routine to it. Homebase was technically the house Roier’s abuelo gave him, but they were more often than not on the move. What was the point in living forever if you didn’t go see the world?

Cellbit hadn’t been so sure about that idea, at first. He thought he would be plenty content trapping himself in an abandoned mansion until his hunger drove him so mad that he became nothing but a beast. That sounded like a fantastic life, actually, once upon a time.

But it turns out, travel is worth it with the right company.

So, he happily went along with Roier’s whims, whether they were to visit the poles, or enjoy the nightlife in the big cities, or even go dance at his vampire friends’ yearly balls. Well, Roier would dance, and Cellbit would decidedly not dance and float around the refreshments the whole time instead, but still. They’d even gone to the tropics before, which was a nightmare for beings who burn in the sun, but they were still able to enjoy looking at the stars together on the sandy shores.

That was what he was looking forward to, on this trip- the night walks on the beach.

He didn’t miss the sunlight much anymore, not since the dark had provided him with so much more. Really, he owed everything to that fateful night he was turned.

He was grateful to be a vampire.

-_-_-_

They made it onto the train with no issues. Seeing as they got on from Mexico, they weren’t surprised that all the travelers spoke Spanish. The weird part was that they didn’t all depart from the Americas, but Europe, too. How was that possible?

Well, Roier didn’t seem too concerned about it. He had a great time socializing with everyone (at least, those who'd kept their window curtains closed). He lied to Hell and back about where he was really from and how old he was, like usual, but he was also a master at joking his way out of anything, like usual. He dragged Cellbit into some of the shenanigans, but largely let him be in their compartment, studying the sparse promotional materials the Federation had provided to the passengers. How did a brochure with such cheerful colors look so ominous?

-_-_-_

Cellbit and Roier hung back while everyone else burst out of the open train doors in the station, slathering on sunscreen where their hoodie and coat didn’t cover. Cellbit’s already embarrassed to dress like this on a tropical island, and only feels worse when he pulls out their primary color wheel umbrella to share. (“Cellbo’s got such bad genes, man!” Roier had been telling the other passengers earlier. “He’s so pale, he’ll burn if he even thinks about going outside on a nice day!”)

What happened next was absolutely baffling. They had to turn on the power to the island, which had clearly seen better days and was not hosting a proper resort. They watched people scramble to press the button to let down the literal language barrier. They saw on their newly-received communication devices that a woman named Jaiden died when the wall exploded, and then... she just reappeared? From somewhere??? And then, in the following chaos, a couple more people died and revived, too?!

Oh, also, they’re supposedly trapped here.

Cellbit really regretted stealing those tickets.

-_-_-_

The pair wandered off a bit further into the fields to build their shelter than most of the others, seeing as all the bachelors seemed hesitant to bunk with a married couple glued at each other’s hip. Which, fair- but also, a little privacy was appreciated while they tried to figure out what to do.

“What’s gonna happen when we next need to feed?” Cellbit whispered, worrying at his lip as they walked. “Everyone will know everyone here.”

“I know,” Roier grumbled, gripping the umbrella handle tight. “If we’re really stuck here, it’d be better to just fess up, no? Lying will get us nowhere a week from now, and we’ll just look worse when the truth comes out.”

“But then they’ll try to- to control us,” Cellbit gritted out. “Or just try to kill us.” He already went through all this effort to control himself- it’s why they agreed to stop killing their food, so he would have to practice restraint and not get them chased by angry mobs every other day- but would humans ever respect his no-kill record? Of course not!

“Or they’ll be willing to listen and make some kind of plan so we can still feed under supervision, or something like that. I’d rather not,” Roier tacked on, crossing his arms with a pout, “but it beats being dead.”

Cellbit paused, then stopped Roier’s walking by bumping his shoulder with his. “Wait- what about the people dying then coming back to life? Do you think everyone’s like that, here?”

Roier slowly lit up with realization. “Actually, yeah, they might be!”

Cellbit matched with his own excited grin. “Which means they have less reason to care about us drinking from them, since it doesn’t matter if they die!” He then twisted his mouth. “We don’t know if there’s a limited amount of lives, though, so we shouldn’t bet on that too much.”

“Still, that’ll help a lot...”

Cellbit raised an eyebrow when Roier didn’t finish his thought, and followed his line of sight. There, in the distance stood... an abandoned, overgrown gas station. They shared a look, then trudged towards it. Roier ran his hand down Cellbit's back to set him at ease, but the clench of his jaw betrayed his own nerves at the eerie sight.

“What kind of horror movie did we just walk into?” Roier asked as he inspected the decayed gas pump. “What happened to the people before us?”

“Maybe they moved? Or managed to escape?” Cellbit replied, clearly skeptical of his own words. He scanned the gas company logos. Those were recent enough that it probably was only a few years since it was abandoned. Maybe time worked differently here, because they shouldn't be that overgrown, in that case. He paused and turned to Roier. “Hey, do you think that we would revive if we died here, too?”

“Uy, don't ask me something like that at a haunted gas station, man!” Roier laughed, slapping at Cellbit's arm.

Cellbit didn't get to reply. Just as he opened his mouth, he saw white fur in his periphery.

-_-_-_

When he next blinked, he was standing outside on a white elevator block at noon. He didn't have his colorful umbrella on him anymore, nor did he feel sticky sunscreen on his skin, but he wasn't burning.

Desperately, he reached next to him for Roier's hand, and Roier was reaching for his too. He flinched back away, however, when his hand felt wrong. He looked over at Roier, who looked just the same as before, but was... warm?

“Cellbit,” Roier said as a gasp, before taking in a big gulp of air, like a drowning man. He tried to say something else, but his heavy breathing quickly turned into hyperventilating. He folded over, clinging to Cellbit's green coat for dear life, and Cellbit tried to hold him up, and pat his back, and whisper reassurances while keeping his own breath in control. If they both devolved into panic, it was only going to make things worse.

“I'm breathing,” Cellbit suddenly realized.

It was such a natural instinct, even after the hundred or so years since he was turned.

Roier, born a vampire centuries ago, never had it.

He didn't think he'd ever need to coach someone on what to do in this situation, but he'd do his best. He helped Roier sit on the grass and kneeled down next to him. In his best reassuring voice, he spoke into his husband's ear, “Roier, breathe in through your nose for 3 seconds, out from your mouth for 3 seconds. Follow me.”

He'd lived through years that felt shorter than this scare did, but Roier eventually was able to figure it out and breathe more normally, if still a little exaggerated. Cellbit knew he was probably fine when Roier started to employ every swear he knew after every inhale.

“When you stop thinking about it, it'll be automatic, I promise,” Cellbit informed him with a relieved laugh.

“What do you- what do you mean I'm gonna do this automatically?! Ew! ¡Guácala! This is awful!” Roier complained, gesturing at his chest. Cellbit should probably check that Roier knows those are called ‘lungs’. “Ugh, if this is the human experience, I want a refund! 0/5 stars!”

“It only gets worse from here,” he replied teasingly, but his smile fell away quickly. His eyes were drawn to Roier's hand. He held his palm between his own hands, and inspected it closely, ignoring his husband's complaints about it. It was so unexplainable, how it looked just the same as it always did, no matter what angle, except- no, the veins were all wrong, almost a bruised color. He pressed at his wrist, and felt a dreaded pulse. He really was pumping blood. And when Roier slipped back his hand with a shudder to try it himself, Cellbit pulled up his own wrist cuff to check his pulse, then pressed his fingers to his own neck, then checked every other point he could think of. They all said the same: he was pumping blood, too.

“Have you ever heard of something like this happening before, Roier?” Cellbit pleaded. “Has anyone undead ever become alive?”

“No, of course not!” he huffed, almost offended. “And I can already see why. This is such a joke of an existence. What next, I have to eat? I have to sleep? I have to poo?” With sudden horror on his face, he grasped Cellbit’s shoulders and shook them desperately. “Am I gonna pee-pee my pants?!”

“You might,” Cellbit answered in the most mournful tone he could muster, to watch Roier dramatically cry out in despair. To top it off, he added mock-seriously, “But if you do, I’ll pee-pee my pants, too.”

Roier let out a joking, but loud, swooning groan, holding his hand to his forehead. “You really do love me!” He shook out of it with a heavy inhale, rubbing at his chest. “Gah, I’m still consciously breathing, this sucks balls.”

“It’ll go away,” Cellbit said as he stood up, and helped Roier stand up, too. “I’m, uh, out of practice, but I’ll do my best to help you with all of this.” He wiped at his forehead. “I don’t even know where to start with figuring out what is wrong with us, though.”

“We could start with figuring out where we are,” Roier groaned, looking around them. And he had a point- there was no abandoned gas station in sight, only untouched nature. Besides the white elevator block, at least. It didn’t do anything when he pressed it, though. “Is our stuff still at the gas station?”

“I guess so. Let’s go back to the train station and try to retrace our steps,” Cellbit suggested. He pulled out the communicator out of his pocket- well, at least he wasn’t completely robbed blind?- to pull up the map. Strangely, most of it was still black- oh, did it only show the areas you’ve been in before?

Regardless, they were able to choose a path, and Roier was just barely starting to whine his face off about his legs being tired by the time they got there. (And Cellbit thought he was manhoso when he didn’t have bodily functions to complain about.) And yeah, there were their suitcases and backpacks, and even their umbrella, but the gas station was gone. All that remained was dirt, like a shadow of what once was there.

“Something tells me this wasn’t an accident,” Cellbit admitted quietly, faintly. It felt like his words didn’t just dissipate into the breeze- they were yanked out of his lungs with the breath he wasn’t supposed to have.

-_-_-_

Here's the thing. Cellbit may have a distant memory of his life as a human, but he was built to be a vampire. When he turned, he felt like he finally fit into his skin. Nothing explained the way he behaved as a human, it was just... bad. Wrong. The way he felt the need to do what it took to survive at all times, when most people just worried about, what? Going to see the next movie? Taking their kids to the park? Buying Christmas presents? All of those vain, benign stresses were for everyone but him. He thrived on violence, on manipulation, on taking flesh.

The life and little joys he was able to share with Roier, were never going to be possible until the outside matched the inside.

Suddenly, they don’t match anymore.

-_-_-_

He left Roier in charge of finding clean water (and actually drinking it, Roier, I don’t care if it tastes gross) while he headed back to where some of the Spanish-speakers had been settling for help on finding food, umbrella in hand purely by habit. He did get a few weird looks, but they still were gracious enough to explain how to make a stove and cook the easiest foods. Until he and his husband were able to create a full garden, they’d explained, they were probably going to be surviving off of meat from wandering animals and whatever fruits and vegetables they could pick up in the surrounding area, like everyone else.

When he hesitantly tried to ask if any of them had experienced suddenly waking up somewhere new, Maximus assumed he meant sleepwalking and showed the appropriate level of concern. Spreen just laughed, assuming this was about the Drunk of the Year award Roier “boasted” about on the train. Cellbit took that as a no and walked off, feeling hot in the face. It took him a while to remember that that was what it felt like to blush.

He was on his way back, stomach grumbling, scanning the horizons for anything that looked edible and muttering schematics to himself, when he ran into... a familiar silhouette. A cloaked figure, almost like a mirage, with a face shrouded in darkness but for two misty white eyes, shining and burning into his soul.

He couldn't believe it. He stumbled in his shock, then regained his wits and rushed the rest of the way to the figure's side. “Bad?!”

For a moment, BadBoyHalo turned to him, and he felt the full force of his power- tall, intimidating, wispy and unknowable, solid and very real. Then Bad apparently recognized him, as the hostile aura disappeared and his eyes squinted into a smile. “Hey, Cellbit! It's been a while!”

Well, “a while” was an understatement. Cellbit hadn't seen him since he was a teenager- since before he was turned.

“Are you trapped here, too?” Cellbit asked, astounded.

“Yep!” he chirped. “I've made a lot of progress on my house, would you like to come see?”

Cellbit shook his head in disbelief. “That can't be right, you're- you're Bad! Can't you just leave the island?”

“Nope!” he chirped again. “It's been fun so far, though! Aren't the neighbors so nice?”

Cellbit found himself listening to a running commentary on the contents of Bad's backpack, including the backpack itself, as gifts between fellow victims and the beauty of community and all those nice things that explained nothing about how a demon-reaper-thing could just... be actually trapped on an island by a scam.

“I don't understand why you don't just... teleport away, or whatever you do,” he couldn't help but argue.

“What do you mean ‘teleport’? That's not a normal, human thing to do,” Bad answered with a nervous laugh. As Cellbit cradled his head between his hands exasperatedly, he added, “Just like anyone else, I need that train to come back. Some people have already started trying to follow the tracks, or take a boat to sail off the borders, but it's so far not working. There might be some kind of bubble around the place, so to speak. And things I'm usually able to do, I'm, uh, currently not able to do.”

Cellbit blinked up at him from between his fingers. “Wait, really?” In a startled motion, he slid his hands back to grip at his hair. “Are you in a human body?!”

“I'm in the same body I've always been in, thank you very much,” Bad huffed, crossing his arms. “It's just some of the other stuff I'm having trouble with.” He slowly tilted his head as he analyzed Cellbit up and down. “Hm... now that I think about it... Your skin looks fantastic for the, what, decade since we last saw each other?”

“Yeah, long story,” he replied dryly. “I look young for my age.”

“Oh, I forgot how sassy you can be!” Bad's eyes smiled tighter. “Especially when you're hungry! Are you hungry, Cellbit?”

Cellbit let out a long, deep sigh before finally admitting, “Yeah, I'm starving. I need something to hold me over until I can get real food.”

“Well, if you're that desperate, I don't mind,” Bad said, rolling up his sleeve and holding out his arm in offering. “As long as you don't make a habit of it, again, you know?”

Cellbit stared at the arm. Just the memory of biting into it was enough to make his mouth water. Bad's blood had tasted different from everyone else's, enough that the part of him recognizing the danger in demon-reaper-thing consumption by a human constantly fought with the addictive effects of it.

Though he was hungry, he couldn’t smell the blood the way he should, beckoning him to come closer. Still, it was very tempting. He reached out to Bad’s arm to hold it up to his mouth. He glanced back up, waiting for Bad to back out, but he didn’t, just watching Cellbit with a strange flicker of curiosity in his white eyes. So Cellbit bit in. The second blood hit his tongue, he recoiled. Before he knew it, he was spitting it out on the grass, shaking, nauseous.

What was that? That didn’t taste right at all! It was vile! Dread dropped down into Cellbit’s stomach, making him feel even more nauseous.

“Okay, drama queen,” Bad huffed as he tugged his sleeve down, “sorry I don't have salt and pepper on me for you!”

“No, that's- that's not the problem,” Cellbit said, voice wavering, wiping at his mouth. “Something's wrong with me.”

And it was worse than he'd thought. His head was spinning at the implications- he was a cannibal long before he turned into a vampire. Why didn't he crave flesh and blood like he always had? Especially Bad’s?

He'd- he'd thought this was still his body, but in the wrong form. All of a sudden, it felt like he was wearing someone else's skin.

Bad crossed his arms. “Yes, young man, you've lost your manners! I remember when you would say please and thank you!”

Cellbit grabbed at Bad's shoulders, trying his best to take deep breaths before he could further spiral. “Bad, please.” His old friend blinked at that, but stayed silent, clearly listening. “Someone did something to me, like what- what they did so you can't use your normal abilities. But I don't know why.”

“Really?” Bad sounded- well, maybe more intrigued than genuinely concerned, but at least he was taking it seriously. “So is someone trying to make it so you can't leave, either?”

“I- I guess? But I don't know why I'd pose such a threat for a reaction so extreme. I didn't do anything!”

Was seeing that gas station such a big offense? Would that have happened to anyone who happened to see it? It couldn't have been because of his past, since they shouldn't even know about it. He took someone else's ticket!

“You are a good fighter, Cellbit, you're a dangerous guy. I wouldn't be surprised if that was enough of a threat. I think you're right on your theory, ‘cause I'm not the only one whose abilities got muffined.” Very conspicuously leaning in, he whispered, “You know Philza? He woke up this morning with his wings clipped!”

Cellbit winced at that. But, he realized, this actually gave him a lead to follow. “I'll- I'll go visit his house later today and ask how he's doing. That must hurt a lot.”

“Visit me when you get the chance, too! There's these really neat things called warpstones...”

-_-_-_

Cellbit checked up on Roier, who had been chopping down trees by a beautiful little pond. Some of the logs were already arranged in the smallest possible shelter for two. He looked absolutely miserable, face splotchy and hair slicked down and dripping. He'd taken off his hoodie, revealing a T-shirt soaked through with sweat, clinging to his figure. Okay, actually... maybe he looked kinda hot like that, Cellbit admitted to himself as he walked over.

“Is this supposed to happen?” Roier whined, shaking his shirt to fan himself.

“Yes, it's called sweating, and it's supposed to cool you down.” Cellbit looked him up and down. “I think you should keep sweating, guapito.”

“Shut up, you perv,” Roier scolded, flipping him off, but the grin on his face said otherwise. “Please tell me you've found food.”

He updated his husband as he helped organize the lumber into chests and set up the warpstone Bad graciously supplied. He enjoyed the view as Roier got fed up and took his shirt off, too. He started to roast in the sun, himself, and grumbled as he peeled off his coat. Roier happily watched, and Cellbit flipped him off in return.

“So you wanna hunt down some food on our way to Philza’s house? Is that the plan?” Roier said as he desperately wiped at his forehead, and clambered to sit down on the grass. Apparently, the bandana really was just an aesthetic choice.

“Or you can stay here and keep working on the house. It’s okay if you don’t want to work on investigating.” He filled up a bottle of the filtered pond water and gave it a taste. He couldn’t stop the surprised noise he made at the sip. “Wait, this is great water! Why were you complaining about it?”

“Huh? Are there different levels of water or something?” the brunet scoffed, then scoffed harder when Cellbit nodded. “Water can be worse than that? Why would the thing that sustains life taste so bad?”

“Way worse,” he corrected after another sip, “and even the nastiest thing on Earth tastes sweet if you’re desperate enough.” He could attest to that.

“Ugh, you’re right.” At Cellbit’s curious look, Roier elaborated, “Remember how I told you about how I ran away when I was little?”

“Oh, yeah! You fed off of animals for a while.”

“I tried not to,” he admitted, curling up, a distant look in his eyes. “When I finally gave in, I’d sucked dry a stray dog.” He blinked back to the present, and his eyes flickered to the pond with distaste, then back to Cellbit. “I think it’d be good for us to meet the neighbors together, no?” He stood back up with an exaggerated groan, stretching up his arms. “And of course I wanna go investigating with my sexy detective husband!”

Cellbit fondly rolled his eyes. “Alright, together, then. Let me make a sword real fast, so I can catch a cow or something.” He paused before opening the chest, to toss a backpack to Roier. “And put a shirt on, already!”

“Ehhh, you don’t want anyone else getting a show?” Roier’s eyes twinkled as he obliged.

“No, you weirdo!”

-_-_-_

Cellbit, even with one hand holding onto their umbrella, was able to slaughter a few chickens and sheep, and it felt strangely nostalgic. Roier seemed hesitant to kill any himself, probably because of the memories still fresh in his mind. He did, however, get to pick a few apples and a random pumpkin, and he proudly carried the pumpkin in his arms even as they crawled up the vines to the house on the wall.

“Hello? Philza?” Cellbit called out.

A bucket hat peeked out from behind the humble home’s door, then the rest of the man came into view with a welcoming smile. “Oh, hey, mate!” They weren’t sure what they were expecting, but it wasn’t a British man in a yukata.

With introductions made, and the couple offering to share their abundance, Phil led them to his grill and started cooking the pumpkin first (to Roier’s insistence).

“Alright, I can tell you’re dying to ask me something,” Phil said, amused. “If it’s about speaking Spanish, I don’t know a lick of it.”

“Not that,” Cellbit assured, “we just wanted to see how you were doing. Bad told me your wings are, uh...?” Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t see wings on Phil at all.

Phil huffed, smile draining away. “Of course Bad is gossiping already. Yeah, I went to bed last night, and then I woke up with my wings clipped.”

“How big are they?” Roier asked, confused by the same glaring issue as Cellbit.

“When I wasn’t using them, they were from the floor to about yea high,” Phil explained, measuring above his head. “Now, uh... I’ve been wrapping what’s left under my clothes to heal.” With a sigh, he turned around, and the couple boggled at the vague lumps across his back, tucked neatly beneath his yukata.

“That’s like- if someone cut your arms off!” Cellbit felt sick, then sick again at the hypocrisy. He did equally cruel things to many people when he was younger.

“Yep,” the blond replied shortly, pulling the pumpkin off the grill half-mindedly. “I’m not gonna lie, it hurts. A lot. But they’ll grow back eventually.” He gave them a poor excuse of a smile. “There’s nothing to do but wait, so don’t worry about me.”

“Hey, man, of course we’ll worry!” Roier protested. “We’re dealing with all this bull together!”

Phil stilled from putting chicken on the grill to squint at Roier. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Cellbit chewed on his lip. He used to have to mind his canines when he did that. “It’s just, uh, something happened to us, too.”

Phil looked between the two, alarmed. “Did you have wings, too?!”

“No, it’s more complicated than that...”

Roier rolled his eyes at Cellbit. “We got turned human,” he informed bitterly, and got slapped on the arm by his husband for it (neither of them noticing Phil’s numb “What?”). He quickly slapped back. “Hey! What’s the point of dancing around the subject, stupid?”

“We just met the guy, idiot!” Cellbit hissed, and they kept up the catfight while Phil hurriedly turned over the chicken off the grill before it burned.

“Hold on, hold on,” Phil shouted, finally getting them to stop, “so were you two immortals? Did you die and come back? That’s happening to everyone.”

“No, we haven’t died, and I really don’t want to test if we’ll revive, too,” Cellbit said with a shudder. “We just know. My best guess, honestly, is that our bodies were somehow replaced.”

“Really?” Roier asked, intrigued.

Cellbit, inexplicably, found himself blushing. “I mean, how else is it possible?”

Roier watched this change with fascination. “Why is your face turning red, man? Are you okay?”

Cellbit turned even redder, squeaking out, “Yes, I am!” He looked over to the bewildered Phil next to them and desperately asked, “Do you remember anything at all while your wings were getting clipped?”

He shook his head as he replaced the cooked chicken with raw mutton on the grill. “Nothing, nada. Do you?”

“No. We weren’t even asleep, we just somehow got... taken somewhere, when we were just standing there, and don’t remember it.”

“Oh, that might be even worse than what happened to me!” Phil shuddered. “I mean, I’ve only met that white bear so far, so he’s the only one I know of who could’ve been responsible.”

Roier and Cellbit blinked and looked at each other. “White bear?”

“Huh? You haven’t seen him yet?” Phil flipped the mutton. It was getting harder for Cellbit to ignore the aromas of cooking food. It felt strange to like the smell. “At least, I thought it was a bear. Some people have been calling him a snowman, and I think I heard Bad say it looks like his dog??” He stopped to share a bewildered look with the others. “He was standing on two legs and talked with a robotic voice. He said he was part of the Federation’s Census Bureau and was asking everyone personal questions. Super creepy, dude.”

“Oh- maybe I did see him?” Cellbit paced, scrubbing through his memories. “I guess that’s who I should talk to, next?”

Phil turned to put a hand on his shoulder. “Nonono, you don't want to do that. The dude’s got a gun.”

Roier brightened up, grinning with delight. “The bear’s got a gun?!”

Phil let out a single incredulous laugh. “Yes, it’s funny, but he’s not afraid to use it! That’s the problem!”

Cellbit wasn't laughing with them, still pulling at his hair as he kept pacing. “But what's the point of threatening to kill people with a gun if they'll apparently just come back to life? What's the point of any of this?”

“I don't know, mate. But if a nightmare fuel bear is disappearing people and body-snatching,” he said, gesturing at the two of them, “I am gonna stay off their radar as much as I can. This is what's happened in just a couple days when we didn't do anything; I can't imagine how much worse the Federation really is if you provoke them.”

“Good luck trying to convince him of leaving them alone,” Roier told him, nodding at Cellbit fondly. “He's too chismoso for his own good.”

Cellbit whapped Roier with the umbrella.

Phil grimaced as he pulled the last of the meat off the grill. “Don’t blame me when you get to the ‘find out’ phase,” he warned.

Roier made a silly face and made a muscle man pose. “Ohoho, they’re the ones that are gonna be finding out!”

Cellbit blatantly ignored his shenanigans, turning to Phil. “I know it's only been a bit, but do you know any of the, uh, neighbors yet? Do you think anyone would want to investigate the Federation?”

He crossed his arms, looking at the ceiling as he thought. “I know Bad, he'd probably go for it. And I know Foolish, who would want in on it because he loves chaos... Actually, maybe you should check if anything's happened to him. He's a shark-totem-god-thing.”

Cellbit's eyebrows raised. “A god?”

Roier's eyebrows scrunched. “A shark?”

“I know!” Phil laughed. “Whatever's the craziest-looking build going on, you can probably find him there.”

Cellbit nodded, mostly to himself. “Okay, yeah, I'll try to find him soon. Thanks for talking to us, and for the food.”

“Thanks for sharing, mate!” Phil happily passed over their portion of the meal. “I'll admit, I'm glad you two aren't an insufferable couple. We need an example of a sane relationship for when people stop flirting badly and start actually pairing up.”

Roier scoffed. “But that doesn't mean we can't be insufferable! We've gotta try harder, Cellbo~” He swiftly wrapped himself around his husband and whispered something in his ear that made his entire head turn red like a tomato.

Phil promptly turned around and slapped his hands over his eyes, laughing as he shouted, “Nope! Out!”

“Sorry, Phil!” Cellbit's voice cracked even as Roier cackled.

“I'm not sorry, gatinho,” Roier corrected quietly, earning an elbow to the stomach. “Hey!”

-_-_-_

Phil offered for them to eat dinner together, but Cellbit politely declined. He didn't know how Roier was going to react to eating any of these foods for the first time, and didn't think he'd appreciate an audience when he did. So, even though they were both starting to feel weak, they trekked on back to their makeshift home.

Neither of them were strangers to living in squalor. Still, something felt particularly sad about this little house with only a door and a table, and being too hungry and tired to do anything about it. It was different, before, when all they really needed to get by was blood and cover from the sun.

Roier heavily dropped his backpack down under the table, hunched over his stomach. “Do you... feel bad about eating animals?”

Cellbit dropped his own backpack and the umbrella and thought for a second, chewing at his lip, again distracted by how dull his teeth were. “Yes and no. A part of me is used to it, since I grew up looking at those animals as food. And it's just being in the natural food chain, being animals eating animals.”

“But you can't talk to them, man,” he blurted, hands fisting in the fabric of his hoodie. “And they're just, I don't know, stinky? Doesn't that feel gross? Or unfair?”

Cellbit unzipped his backpack and pulled out their cooked pumpkin. Clearly, it was better to try that first. “Some people would argue it's better to kill them because you can't talk to them. Others consider animals innocent and so killing them for food is cruel.” Tapping his fingers on the table, he thought for a second before adding, “I think I also prefer feeding from humans. But when I had to rely on animals, I had to remember that a lot of them would kill and eat me, too, if it came to it. You wouldn't blame them for wanting to survive, so you shouldn't feel bad about it, either.”

His husband didn't look completely set at ease, but the answer seemed to help. Cellbit offered his hand, and Roier let go of his hoodie to take it. It felt wrong, having a warm hand- feeling the warmth radiating from Roier's hand.

But it was still Roier's.

He squeezed his hand and shared the warmth with him. After a moment, he brushed his thumb over his knuckles. They stayed like that, breathing the same air and holding warm hands, until their stomachs grumbled simultaneously in protest.

Roier grumbled insults back at his stomach, followed by, “¡Cállate! ¡Ya voy a comer!”

Cellbit sighed and let go of his hand. He carefully dug into the pumpkin with a knife, and found it was extremely soft. A perfect first food. He cut it up and served a few pieces into bowls with a spoon. They were still steaming a bit, so he demonstrated blowing on a spoonful until it no longer was. Roier followed along, hiding his nerves behind a joking smile. His facade cracked when he made a motion to put the spoon into his mouth but Cellbit stood still, staring at his little spoon.

“¿Qué te pasa? You look like we're about to eat rat poison,” Roier laughed nervously. “You've had this before, haven't you?”

“Yeah,” he replied numbly.

He was a poor excuse of a human, before. He thought he had come to terms with that, but now, looking at his husband, he wished he had been more normal. He wouldn't feel so insecure and scared of what was happening to him. Really, they were in the exact same position, when he should've been able to provide better guidance and reassurance.

But then, if he hadn't been such a natural at being undead... would they have even met?

There wasn't a point in what-ifs, he knew that. But the pulling and twisting in his stomach wouldn't go away.

He took a breath and clinked his little spoon against Roier's. “Saúde,” he toasted. Roier smiled at him and they took the plunge together.

-_-_-_

Being a vampire was such an integral part of his identity. It was the first time a label fit.

Flesh tasted like survival, like life. He didn't remember a day in his life when normal food tasted like anything more than basic nutrients, not the way feeding off of humans felt like revival, like rejuvenation. When he turned, his taste buds hadn't changed. His everyday routine was barely tweaked.

He was a vampire because he wasn't ever really human.

So why did this pumpkin have flavor? Why was it pleasant? Why didn't it equate to mere mush?

They really did body-switch him, didn't they?

What else did he need to check, to be sure? Did he remember what his fingerprints looked like well enough? Were all of his scars still in the same places?

He tried to stop his shaking, to keep up a front for Roier. Crumbling into a self-existential crisis was the last thing his husband needed from him.

When he hesitantly swallowed and looked up, Roier was... doing about as well as he was. He was struggling to keep his smile up, humming out sounds of approval, but tears streaked down his face.

“Do you like it?” Cellbit quietly asked.

He replied with a startled laugh and stiff nod. “Y-yeah, it's really good! Muy rico! I've never had something so sweet before.” He placed his bowl and spoon down to desperately wipe at his face with his hands. “Why am I crying, man? I thought humans are supposed to cry when they're sad, or s-scared!”

“They usually do,” he replied, his voice tight, blinking back tears. He knew other people as sympathetic criers, but never was one himself, as far as he remembered. This cursed new body was acting wrong in yet another way.

“But I'm happy, estoy feliz, ‘cause the food is good. I shouldn't be crying!” He let out a sudden sob, then another, shaky smile slipping off entirely. “I shouldn't be- crying- I can't breathe-”

Cellbit's bowl clattered onto the table, and he lunged forward to embrace his husband and guide him to the floor, in the absence of any chairs. It was hard to do any more than that when he was collapsing, too. It made him feel like a little kid again, when he would quietly weep in caves at night, curled around his trusty knife until he fell asleep.

Roier would've died in that situation, a little voice in the back of his head said, as he curled around his husband like he was a trusty knife. He was crying his lungs out. Too loud.

“I'm so sick of this,” he whined into Cellbit's shoulder, hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt.

“I know,” Cellbit said back, voice thick and cracking. “Me too.”

“But then I ate the pumpkin,” he said, letting his tears soak Cellbit's shoulder, “and I felt grateful for a second, ‘cause it was really good.” He shakily drew in a breath, hiccuping. “But I don't wanna be grateful, ‘cause I'm gonna die.”

“I know.”

“You will, too.”

“Yeah.”

“I don't wanna die.” He shook his head against Cellbit's shoulder, voice muffled. “I don't want you to die.”

Cellbit squeezed him tighter, hiding his face in Roier’s hair. “I know.”

-_-_-_

Their appetites had left them, but they somehow still ate enough to not go to sleep with empty stomachs. They curled up together on the floor, using their backpacks as pillows. They shared heat, when usually they shared dead cold. They listened to the mobs stumbling about outside. Or at least, Cellbit was. As far as he could tell, Roier had fallen asleep. He wondered what Roier’s first real dream would be like. He hoped it would be a good one.

All he remembered having were nightmares.

To be honest, he wasn’t looking forward to sleeping again.

He wasn’t built to be human.

-_-_-_

Roier woke up cranky, even though Cellbit was the one without a wink of sleep. Neither of them were surprised.

At least he woke up with a returned appetite, and happily tried the apples he’d picked. No breakdown this time, Cellbit noted, and hoped that was the end of that for both of them. They didn’t have time for it.

And he didn’t want to see Roier cry again.

They worked on making their house actually livable throughout the morning. By lunchtime, they had a cottage instead of a shack, with a real bed and a garden plot. Now they had to consider space for edible plants, not just the pretty ones, but that was okay. They had the makings of a little home. Progress.

(He’d like to forget what happened when they suddenly realized they actually need to own a toilet now.)

With the feeling of accomplishment in their bones, Cellbit decided it was time for the next hurdle: actually eating meat. He served a small piece of yesterday’s mutton for each of them, on proper plates, and they sat on proper chairs. Roier looked sick, grimacing at his serving.

“It smells good, right?” Cellbit encouraged.

“Sure, but it looks awful,” he admitted, carefully poking at it with his fork. “You sure this used to be an animal? Where’d the blood go?”

“It’s still there.” Cellbit cut a sliver of his off to show the inside. “Blood looks different when you cook it.” Even he remembered that from his youth. It wasn’t a surprise, when he spent so much of it learning how to survive. “You know, I had eaten raw human a few times, but I cooked the meat when I had the chance. It’s just safer, that way. This looks pretty similar to cooked human.”

“So, I could just pretend this is human?” Roier still looked skeptical as he picked up his own knife. He made a gagging face as he experienced cutting a piece of meat off.

“You’re being so dramatic for the wrong thing,” Cellbit said, laughing.

“Shut up,” he said lamely. He picked up the piece with his fork. “This is totally a human that definitely deserved to die,” he declared at it, but still didn’t move any further.

Cellbit fondly rolled his eyes and stuck his own fork into Roier’s mouth. Roier made a noise of protest, but it meant nothing since his face also burst into a bright blush.

“You were being a baby,” Cellbit teased. “How is it?”

Roier grumpily chewed in silence. Eventually, he swallowed and shortly said, “I don’t like it.”

Cellbit hummed. “Alright then, more for me,” and reached for Roier’s plate.

Roier batted his hand away, shielding his food with his arms. “No!”

He grinned, victorious. “So you do like it?”

“No! Yes? Agh!” Roier leaned back, fully despairing. “It tasted good, but it also made my face feel like it’s on fire!”

Cellbit leaned onto his elbows on the table, trying to not laugh. “Roier, you were blushing because of me, not because of the food.”

“Huh?”

“Your face turned red.”

Roier looked absolutely mind blown. “You mean like what you’ve been doing randomly?”

“It’s not something I can control,” Cellbit argued, starting to blush just thinking about what happened before. But, he regained a sly smile and put a bit of mutton on his fork again, waving it around in front of Roier. “I can control yours, though.”

Like magic, Roier’s face reddened again. “Get that nasty fork away from me!”

Cellbit complied, his gaze lingering on his husband’s blush. He himself wasn’t supposed to be human, Cellbit thought, but maybe he liked how being human looked on Roier.

Roier huffed, crossing his arms, putting on his bratty voice. “What are you lookin’ at, huh?”

Carefully, Cellbit ghosted his finger over Roier's face, from one cheek to the other over his nose bridge. “All along here, your face is pink.” The blush deepened in response, and Cellbit couldn't keep the amusement off his face. “Your nose, especially. The top of your ears are a bit pink, too.”

Roier nearly went cross-eyed, trying to look at his own nose. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“You look like my idiot.”

-_-_-_

Cellbit thought it was time to visit the neighbors again, and find this Foolish character.

They ended up not needing to ask for directions; it didn’t take long to spot the spiral skeleton stretching up to the sky at the cliff edge of the island.

“Hello?” Cellbit called up, tilting back his umbrella as he craned his neck to try to spot movement on the unfinished structure.

After a few seconds, they heard tools clattering, then a call back of, “Just a minute!” Someone clambered down the build’s skeleton, and their appearance only became more confusing as they came closer.

Huh. So that’s what a totem-shark-god-something looks like.

“Oh, I haven’t met you guys before!” he said as he jumped back to the ground. He eagerly shook hands with them. “Name’s Foolish! What can I do for ya?”

“Hi, Foolish, I’m Cellbit, and this is my hot Mexican husband, Roier,” he said, absolutely anticipating Roier’s punch to his arm. “We’re just trying to meet the neighbors.”

Foolish’s smile turned a bit nervous at that. “Mexican? Would you happen to know Mariana?”

Roier tilted his head at him. “Kind of? We talked for a bit on the train, that’s it.”

“Good!” He abruptly clapped and turned back around, beckoning them to follow him. “If we’re just chatting, then I wanna get back to work!”

The couple shared a confused silent conversation, and ended up just shrugging at each other.

Foolish led the way up the precarious structure up to where he’d left off. As he picked up some tools, he said nonchalantly, “What’d you really wanna talk about, huh?” He glanced back over at them when they didn’t reply. “C’mon, guys, no one’s gonna hear from up here.”

Wow, Cellbit thought, he’d never been able to pin someone as a burrinho inocente this fast before.

Roier shrugged at Cellbit before telling Foolish, “We wanna know if anything weird’s happened to you on the island yet.” After a second, he tacked on, “Besides the obvious.”

“Hm... define ‘weird’,” Foolish replied, head deep in a storage chest of building materials.

“Like... getting kidnapped, or getting body parts cut off.”

“Oh, that kind of weird.” Foolish shut the chest and shook his head. “Nothing that dramatic, no. I met an angel, though! We almost kissed!”

Cellbit and Roier blinked at him. “Really?” As crazy as that was, though, it wasn’t what they were looking for. Cellbit forced himself back to the topic. “So you haven’t noticed anything wrong with your body, either?”

“I’m in fantastic health, thank you very much,” Foolish huffed.

Roier’s eyebrows raised. “So you’re still immortal?”

Foolish’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’m as mortal as I’ve ever been, scumbag.”

Cellbit dragged his hand down his face exasperatedly. They had to outright say it, huh? “Did you get turned human?”

“What? Ew, no!” Foolish conspicuously looked around them and leaned in to whisper, “What gave you the idea I’m not human?”

The couple looked him up and down real hard. He continued staring blankly at them, so Roier rolled his eyes and said, “We talked to Philza.”

“Ohhh, Phil’s spilling my secrets, huh? That rapscallion!”

“Anyway,” Cellbit steered the conversation back, “what about your non-human abilities? Are you still able to use them?”

“Yeah? I haven’t noticed anything weird yet, though I also haven’t exactly needed to use them, so...” Foolish thought for a second, then stepped back and tried to do... something? He gave them a thumbs-up as he informed, “Okay, yeah, I can’t do that!”

Cellbit couldn't help the confused scrunch of his eyebrows. “Anything else?”

Foolish held out a second thumbs-up. “Everything else should be good, yep!”

“Have you already died and revived?”

“Yeah, no thanks to Bad,” he said with the fury of a thousand suns. “But I was able to do that already. What’s the point of being a totem guy if I can’t do that?”

“So you're still... whatever you are,” Roier summarized.

Foolish's grin twisted into clear amusement. “Yep!”

“So all the non-humans we’ve met so far are still non-human, but restricted in some way,” Cellbit concluded, a troubled look on his face. “We really are the outliers.”

“The bear’s got something personal against us, man,” Roier said, crossing his arms. A pout grew on his face as he declared, “I’ve got something personal against him, too, then! Hmph!”

“Wait, so you guys were turned into humans?” Foolish inspected them for a second, absolutely fascinated. “From what?”

With a grimace, Cellbit watched as Roier admitted out loud, “We were vampires.”

Inexplicably, Foolish burst out laughing, wheezing and nearly collapsing under his own weight.

Roier startled back, then his face grew red with anger and he squeezed his hands into fists, blurting, “What’s wrong with you?!”

“Can’t help it, I laugh at tragedy,” he explained, wiping tears from his eyes. “Yikes, man, that’s the worst luck ever. Guess I know who’s the universe’s favorite punching bag now!”

“Not the universe’s,” Cellbit corrected grimly. “We think it’s because of whoever runs the island.”

“Ooh, really?” Foolish rubbed his hands together like a mischievous little fly. “I gotta meet whoever's got that kind of power! Oh! Is it that white bear guy with a gun?”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah! That guy's freaky! I'm gonna be his best friend!” Foolish roughly patted their shoulders with a reassuring nod. “I'll try to find out what happened to your vampire stuff, don't you worry!”

Unsure what they just got themselves into, Cellbit started saying, “We appreciate it-” and cut himself off when Foolish suddenly slapped Roier’s arm.

“Hey! What was that for?” Roier punched him in the arm back.

Foolish slapped his hand away, rubbing his own arm. “Hey, pal, I was doing you a favor! There was a mosquito on you!”

“A mosquito? On me? Drinking my blood?” Roier looked absolutely delighted. “That's never happened before!”

“Really?” Foolish’s eyes lit up. “Wait, yeahhh, that’s new for you! That’s crazy!”

Roier punched his arm again, though not as hard. “Why wouldn't you let my cousin have some food, man? He's just living his life! I don't mind!”

Foolish's grin widened as he said, “That's what I've been saying!” But then he paused and pouted. “Oh wait, right, someone told me mosquitoes ‘carry horrible diseases’ and they can kill the meatsacks they drink from.”

Cellbit started eyeing the insects around them more carefully. “How bad are these diseases?”

“Awful, body horror kinds of stuff. They're terrible ways to die. So yeah, it's probably not worth letting them eat you, unfortunately.”

Roier groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I can’t believe even tiny little bugs can kill me. What’s even the point, man?”

Foolish shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s any more pathetic than the fact that the sun could kill you before this.”

“The sun wouldn’t have killed me,” Roier scoffed, putting an ‘um, actually’ finger up into the air and pretending to push up glasses. “It just would’ve burned me so bad, that I wish it did.”

“So what, you don’t turn into ash?”

“I mean,” Cellbit said, a bit uncomfortable, but he couldn’t not correct the myth, “we would turn into dust with a stake to the heart. That’s the only way to kill one.”

Foolish scrunched his nose, disappointed. “How convenient, that you don’t leave a body behind. No one can take your stuff when you kick the bucket.”

Cellbit and Roier glanced at each other, thinking in unison how he absolutely looked like the kind of guy to rob dead guys.

Foolish blinked, then tilted his head innocently as he questioned, “Would you have been able to revive like everyone else if your body disintegrates when you die?”

After a solid five seconds of silence, Cellbit desperately grabbed at Foolish’s arms, voice dark. “Don’t tell me that’s why they nerfed us.”

“It might be!” Foolish bravely smiled through the painful squeezing of his arms. “You guys got muffined bad, dude.”

Roier stumbled back, pulling at his hair in despair. “It’s just for some torture experiment?!”

“Sucks to be you!” Foolish cheerfully informed them.

-_-_-_

It was evening, by the time they’d trudged home, weighed down by the gravity of their discovery. Cellbit was too tired to toss about any theories; Roier was too tired to crack any jokes.

Cellbit had planned on having Roier try another new food for dinner, but... the house was too tense. They just ate apples again, so they didn’t have to think about dinner going cold.

They quietly both got ready for bed. When there was nothing left to do but lay down, though, they found themselves standing by the table, instead.

Roier was the one to break the silence, gripping the back of one of the chairs. “What now?”

Cellbit chewed on his answer for a moment, then eventually said, “I guess we just investigate the Federation and escape.”

Roier pursed his lips, decidedly not looking at him. “What happens if we can’t do it?”

Cellbit was ready to argue that they could, but- no, this scenario was wrong. Between the two of them, Roier was more often the optimist, not the realist, when it mattered. There was something else he was really looking for.

‘What now’ had a lot of answers.

“I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking,” Cellbit said, carefully trying to read Roier’s face.

“Are you sure?” Roier scrunched his face, trying to hold in his emotions. It didn’t sound accusatory in the slightest; if anything, it sounded like he was beating himself up for sounding so insecure.

“Yes,” Cellbit assured, stepping a bit closer to put his hand over Roier’s. “You know I take our vows seriously.”

“This isn’t in the vows,” Roier said, voice wavering. “Our relationship was built on the fact that we would never die. That we had all the time in the world.” His face twisted more as he said, like confessing a sin, “If I hadn’t taken those tickets-”

“If we hadn’t,” Cellbit was quick to correct, insistently squeezing his hand. “I’ve already said this before, Roier; in the slim chance you were killed, I would’ve been quick to follow you. It wouldn’t be worth living forever without you.”

Roier wrenched his hand away. “And if I’m the one killing you?”

“I’d let you,” he said.

He let out a bitter laugh. “A huevo.”

“Have I really made you think I wouldn’t?” Cellbit asked, trying to not sound hurt. After a few seconds, Roier shook his head no, to his relief. “If I had to choose between immortality and being human with you, I’d...” He swallowed. It was an easy choice, but it was still hard to come to terms with. “I’d pick you.”

As wrong as his skin felt, that was true. It would’ve been true, ever since he realized he loved Roier.

Roier reached out to tightly hug Cellbit. “I’d pick you, too.”

-_-_-_

They were relaxing out of the hold a bit when Cellbit shyly returned the question. “What now?”

Roier chewed on his lip, then answered, “I think we have to adapt our vows. I think we need to live like every day might be our last.”

Though it was grim, the romance of it made Cellbit smile. “What does that entail?”

Roier pressed his forehead to Cellbit’s shoulder. “Making sure we don't have regrets. Saying te amo until it gets annoying. We should go to bed, ready to die.”

Cellbit furrowed his eyebrows, worried. “Do you have any regrets?”

Roier huffed out a laugh. “Well. The train tickets. But there's nothing we can do about that.”

Cellbit conceded with a nod. He reached up his hand from Roier’s back to his nape, fiddling with his hair. “We can do our best to escape and find your family, so they can turn us again.”

“True. It depends on if we've grown sick of this, huh.” Grumbling, he admitted, “I've been growing kind of attached to being alive. I do like food a lot.”

“I've been growing attached to being alive if it's with you.” It wasn’t just to be sappy, either; Cellbit really liked the new sides he’d gotten to see from his partner in just the past couple days.

Roier teased, “Well, that's just a given. You can't get rid of me.”

After a moment, Cellbit said with a faint blush, “I regret not dancing with you every time I could. You would ask me when we went to balls and I'd say no.”

Roier blinked and looked back up to Cellbit’s eyes. “I don't hold that against you, it's fine.”

“I know, but... those were opportunities for memories, wasted. I let myself be too embarrassed over something so small.” Cellbit couldn’t hold the gaze any longer. “I thought I had eternity to work up the courage, but...”

Roier held out his hands. “We can dance now, if you want.”

“Do- do you have music for it?” he asked sheepishly.

“Not yet, but we don't need it. I'll keep a beat and sing like José José. But remember that no one is here to see.” He held Cellbit's hesitant hands. “We can dance every night, just the two of us.”

Roier started a basic waltz step, whistling out an improvised song. He was a patient teacher, considering how he made every effort to look impatient and cuss at Cellbit for every misstep.

“Someday, I’ll have you dancing circles around all those pretentious idiots at the ball,” Roier swore, as if they’d ever be able to go to one again.

“Of course,” Cellbit said anyway. “In fact, I never danced with you before just so everyone else wouldn’t be immediately outclassed.”

Roier cackled. “You shouldn’t worry too much about their egos, gatinho!”

Their house was little, but it was warm, as they spun through as much free space as they could. They hummed and sang and laughed, and it was perfect.

But all good moments had to come to an end. They tuckered out, and turned off the light, and stumbled to their bed.

Roier got comfy, and turned to give Cellbit their customary goodnight kiss, but stopped at the upset look on Cellbit’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Eventually, Cellbit whispered, “I don’t want to sleep. I don’t know what I’ll see.”

Roier seemed unsure what to say, considering he didn’t have much experience with sleeping yet. “You’d see me, wouldn’t you? I can’t leave you alone, even in your dreams.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong to assume that. “I hope you do.”

“I’ll figure out how to connect our dreams just to annoy you all night.”

He knew he was supposed to play along with the teasing, but he felt a little too desperate. He clung to Roier. “Please do.”

Roier clung back, rubbing a hand along Cellbit’s back.

For the first time since they’d shown up here, Cellbit let himself be vulnerable first. He quietly pleaded, “I don't want to lose you. I don't want to go.”

“You won’t, not yet,” Roier promised.

“I’m not ready.”

Roier sighed into Cellbit’s hair. “We don’t have to be ready to die tonight. But we’ll be ready tomorrow.”

Cellbit barely nodded.

They fell asleep to pleasant dreams.

#Spiderbit Month 2025 #thank you for hosting @atthebell!#this is the first time I'm participating in a fandom month-long event and it's for these guys in June 2025 what's wrong with me #Lily? Lily.#Lily? Lily. Fic.#QSMP #edit: I totally forgot I technically posted something for DannyMay19 IT'S BEEN SO LONG THAT I FORGOT THAT

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