#It's the funny bricks with connections on the sides

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

Went to Target during a trip to the next state over with Mom so we could have a fun day out, and I found DC Comics Manga, and this Joker one is so tempting to grab an ebook of

This sounds like a typical fanfiction plot idea and I'm all for it

Also, found some cute Lego polybags, which is a nice bit to add to my Lego collection I'm rebuilding, as I'm mostly grabbing small bags and bricks from thrifting

A cute farmer with a scarecrow and a bunny, and a "birthday train" micro build.

Also, I decided to finally try a minifigure blind box, since my Lego are gonna need some people for them, and golly, they've changed since I was a kid

I got an Olympic runner guy with running blades prosthetics and a Harpy with articulated wings! I found out that they're making minifigs now that includes some wild fantasy elements and disability representation. I really want to find the dog groomer one with the Afghan hound and has a cochlear implant, the dog is cute and since hard-of-hearing runs in my family, that has a bit of a personal sentimental concept there...

Anyway, my Valentine's day was pretty cool. Nothing but good luck, people were very polite and friendly, and absolutely nothing went wrong this year. 🥹

[allfearstofallto]

saw yr posts abt submissive yanderes, and hear me out, tartaglia. i mean this from the bottom of my heart he is the one that wants you to do things to him, and while that’s not exactly submission i think it’s close enough?

just… in my mind he wants anything you’ll give him, he’ll give his body up to you, even if you punch and kick him, he takes it, sure he’d rather you treat him the way he would (does?) you, but any touch you give makes him feel like a wild animal.

tartaglia, who just needs you. idek i’m losing my train of thought 🙏

I don't think it's exactly what you wanted, but I got carried away and wrote masochist Childe👉🏾👈🏾. I hope that's okay!!! Personally, as a woman who loves femdom, it felt so good to write this though!! It was like I was going back to my roots.

TW: NSF.W Yandere themes, BDSM (bondage, sadism/masochism), violence, nipple play, unprotected sex, finishing inside, dub-con, overstimulation(?), choking

“Hurt me more,” he cooed while looking up at you with big, eyes full of anticipation. Drool leaking from his lips, his cheek was already red and warm from your stinging slap across it, “C’mon, I know you hate me. Now's your chance to treat me like you do.” He'd goad you with that same smug, smirk on his face.

Childe's big strong arms were tied with a rope to the headboard. The material was tight, digging into the flesh of his wrist anytime he'd struggle against them. But despite the aching pain you could imagine he was feeling, he showed a face of hunger, of desire for more.

His cock, large and twitching, was strained against his boxers, begging to be let free from its confines. When you brought another rough slap down across his cheek, you watched it twitch and leak and darken that already deep fabric with his precum, while he trembled with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

He'd grind his hips up, wanting you to free his aching dick, but you never did. You knew he could cum without it and he did too. Your hand would slide up his chiseled stomach, his body was always slightly colder than what it was supposed to be, and you squeezed one of his pink nipples between your finger tips. As hard as you could. Squeezing and twisting until your hand shook.

Lips clenched together, he muffled his own moans. His cock twitched in his underwear a few more times, the head of it rubbing against the precum he'd already spilled on his boxers .He came like that, the many shots of his semen continuing to soak the cloth until it began to drip down his cock again.

When he stilled from his orgasm, his body still twitching, he smiled at you lovingly. All the disgust you felt towards him still there, you'd turn away without a word.

You never took yourself to be much of a sadist, the idea of it being like a whisper of the night, never being brought to the day, but that was before Childe took you. Locked away in his home, falling victim to his torture that he called love, you felt animosity towards him grow. That animosity would turn into violent fits of rage, ones that he never took seriously. There was no way you could actually hurt a harbinger, especially without a vision, but that didn't stop you from trying. And one fateful day, you actually managed to connect a punch to his jaw.

It was your first time ever punching someone and felt more like you were hitting a brick wall than a person. You shook your sore hand out, immediately regretting what you'd done for the pain it caused you instead. But Childe stood there stiff, a little bruise forming on the side of his face. His eyes had rolled back, body beginning to shutter. His mouth agape, he let out a soft, low moan. You were going to tell him to stop joking around, that he wasn't funny, until he dropped to his knees in front of you, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants. Childe had cum just from your little act of violence.

While he loved the art of fighting. The rush that ending another life gave him, the way his body felt while he was throwing punches, it was an unmatchable adrenaline rush, he never knew he was one for pain. Pain from your hands felt different. It felt pleasurable. A familiar stinging followed by tingles that shot through his body. Only you could do that to him.

“You're incredible, my angel,” he moaned while kissing up your thighs, wanting to do more with this new found knowledge of his.

He had you laid back on the bed, pounding into your tender cunt with little mercy. Each long stroke of his cock made your toes curl from the unwanted pleasure of him hitting your insides. Your legs on his hips, you squeezed the sheets for leverage as you begged for him to stop, or at the very least slow down. He was going to fast, too drunk and clumsy from the satisfaction your dripping pussy was giving him.

Childe’s large hand engulfed your wrist, a feeling you were familiar with. Instead of holding you in place so he could fuck you deeper into the mattress with less struggle from you like you thought he would, he lifted it up and placed your palm to his neck.

“Make me,” he growled, lust clouding his eyes. Uncertainty caused you to tremble for a moment before you realized that this was Childe, nothing you could do could actually hurt him. He was asking for it, even going as far as to lift your legs higher, to thrust into you deeper, to make you try to stop him more.

You squeezed that muscled throat, choking him with the hope that he might actually die, but knowing better. He loved it, his already obnoxious moans were even louder than before. His thrusts felt even more rough, hips slapping against yours as you actually felt yourself growing a little aroused from this and he noticed too. A smirk on his face as he struggled to inhale, but still fucking you at that same brutal pace with those same deep, strokes.

He strained to speak as he tried to tell you he was cumming, his mouth just opening and closing, drooling down his chin. Childe forced his cock balls deep inside of you, going so deep with his length it almost felt uncomfortable. He began to cum, dick twitching like mad against your walls. Soft whimpers and groans would drop from his lips as you didn't let go of him, only squeezing his throat tighter.

His cock didn't get the chance to soften, he stayed hard as he started slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy again. The mixture of the pain of overstimulation and lack of air from your choking has him convulsing, but he didn't pull out, using his own cum as lube.

“Ah…hah…just say you want to milk me dry, my love, I'll keep going,” he managed to grunt through tears, his orange hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no quiet on this earth

Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 10 - killing in self defense | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 2.8k

summary: You and Joel run into hunters on patrol.

-- I'm a fucking menace, and this is Joel & reader from "you know you never stood a chance" (spoiler warning). BUT this can be read as a standalone. I just can't seem to help myself/let them go.

warnings: established relationship, jackson, patrol partners, hunters, Joel and reader both kill hunters, canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, lots of blood, oral (m receiving), p in v unprotected, creampie, feelings, guilt/trauma, trauma response, a little hurt and a LOT of comfort, Joel takes care of you, one (1) ass slap, pussy/clit spanking

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They had been waiting for you. Not the biggest group of hunters that’s come ‘round, but there hadn’t been any signs. It was supposed to be an easy half-day route. 

It was also your first patrol with Joel. 

You’re already off to a rough morning. He’s settled back into Out There Joel, gruff and tense, and you’re already feeling useless again even though you know you can handle it now. 

You’re on horseback, you with a gentle brown mare that you’re a little irritated about. Penny is notoriously slow and usually used to teach people to ride. Tommy taught you to ride ages ago, but Joel fucking insisted. 

“Ain’t havin’ you have to deal with a spooked horse our first time out.”

“Our first time. I’ve been out loads of times,” you grumbled. He leveled you with a look so stern that you rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t start with your smart mouth,” he said. “Only way this works is—“

“If I do what I’m told. I got it. Same shit, different place.” 

To say you’re pissed would be an understatement. You thought after all the shit you’ve been through that he’d trust you now. And you’ve gotten quite good with your revolver and halfway decent with the rifle. 

Now, out here on the trail to the safe house, neither of you has said a word. Just like the good old days. Y’know. If they had been good. 

You’re nearly there when they make their move. They don’t have guns, thank fuckin’ god, but there are five of them and two of you. 

It becomes quickly clear that they want the horses. Joel makes quick work of the first hunter that lunges for him. 

One comes at him from each side, and you’re too worried to notice the other two do the same to you. 

One grabs the reins and the other tries to yank you from the saddle. Your boots are stuck, and they don’t seem to particularly care if they break your legs during the extraction. 

You free your feet, boots left behind, and let the brick house of a man pull you down. He doesn’t care much about your landing, so when you hit the ground, you grapple for your revolver. 

His partner yells, and he spins back to you, a huge fist aiming for your face. But it doesn’t connect, because your bullet does first. 

He was close enough that it would have been near impossible to miss, which also meant that his stupid body landed on you, turning your clothes into a sponge for his blood. 

Joel’s rampaged through the others by now and turns to take down the one trying to abscond with your horse. 

But he doesn’t make the shot, because he freezes up when he sees you. 

“Get the fucking horse,” you yell. 

He swears and loads the rifle, one neat bullet into the head of the escaping hunter. He hadn’t fully mounted your mare yet, and his corpse crumples into the soft spring soil. 

Joel whistles and Penny takes her fucking time to come back, giving him a very unimpressed look and shaking her mane. 

He heaves the dead man off you. “Where?” he says sharply, eyes darting all over your body. 

“Nowhere, Joel, I’m fine,” you say. 

He’s already dropping to his knees, hands gripping and patting every inch of you before cradling your face. “You’re sure?”

“I mean, I think so. Unless I’m in shock, but I guess we’ll find out in a little bit.”

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he mutters, doing another check, slower this time and more thorough. 

You let him. You feel kind of funny, dizzy almost, but mostly just… muted. Like the world around you is muffled and you’re suddenly hyper aware of how blood is turning tacky and your jeans are stiffening as it dries. 

“Hey,” he snaps. 

You’re pretty sure that means he was already talking to you, and when you look up and meet his eyes, they abandon their irritation for concern beneath furrowed brows. 

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he says, voice low and slow. It draws out the Texan twang and loops you in. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You did what you had to do, okay?”

“Okay,” you echo, but the word sticks in your throat, tasting of copper. 

“Say it.”

“I did what I had to do.”

You’ve done as he said, but he looks more worried for it. 

“Alright, c’mon. I’m gettin’ you home.”

“But—“

“Rethink that, baby. I ain’t in the mood to argue.”

“But we were supposed to—“

“Yeah, and plans fuckin’ change. We’re going back. Tommy and I can come out and deal with the bodies later.”

He stands and pulls you up, though you follow willingly. You hover where you stand as he pulls a rope from his bag and tethers it to Penny’s lead. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Want you on Oakley with me.”

“I can ride,” you snap. “I’m not fucking hurt.”

“I know,” Joel says. “But you’re gonna ride with me.”

“Don’t start this shit,” you say, mortified when your voice and hands are trembling. “I can handle myself.”

He spins around, fury written in the curl of his lip. “I fuckin’ know that! I don’t give a shit. You’re riding with me, end of fuckin’ discussion.”

You open your mouth, ready to bite back, but he seizes you by the shoulders and shakes you a little. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ get it? It’s not about you,” he snarls. You’re crushed against him before you realize it’s an embrace. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ride up here, so I know you’re okay.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, leaning into him. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he says, but the fight is already leaving him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he lets go. “Now get on the damn horse before I put ya there myself.”

You think you deserve credit for only hesitating a little, tempted to see if he really would. But his jaw ticks and you heave yourself up onto Oakley. Joel swings himself behind you, caging you in as he takes the reins. 

“You’re so fuckin’ stubborn,” he gripes. 

“I learned it by watching you,” you say, voice pitched in mockery of the vague memory. 

But instead of irritation, something akin to relief flashes across his face. “Yeah, s’that right?”

“Uh-huh.” Now that everything has calmed, you’re exhausted. He can tell because of course he can. He knows you too well. 

“C’mon, lean back. I got ya. Not gonna let you fall.”

You don’t sleep, not really, but you fall into something between the light and dark. It’s blissfully absent of reality. You’re only aware of the soft sunshine, the sway of the horse, and Joel. 

Joel, your Joel, is everything right now. All encompassing. You’re surrounded by his warmth and smoky musk, masking the chill and tang of the stains on your skin. 

His heart seems to beat in time with Oakley’s hooves and the steady pace he encourages keeps you lulled in this safest place. 

“Holy shit, what happened?” Carl asks at the gates, almost loud enough to knock you from your peace. 

“Nothin’ too serious, she ain’t hurt,” Joel’s smooth tone settles you back down. “But do me a favor and get the horses back? Send Tommy my way in a while. I’m gonna take her home.”

Home. It sounds so nice. But you’re already there, you want to tell him. There’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here. 

You must actually say it, because he chuckles. “Okay, sweetheart, but I can think of somewhere I’d rather be.”

It hurts a little before he leans in and murmurs in your ear. 

“I’d rather be in a warm bath with ya. That sound better than stayin’ put?”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah, you’re right. Way better idea.”

He makes good on his promise when you get home. While he draws the water, he peels your ruined clothes off and sits you on the bathroom counter to rinse the blood into the sink. 

You sit very still with your eyes clenched shut as he cleans you. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “First one’s the hardest.”

You can’t quite stopper the whimper. 

“This is part of why I don’t like ya goin’ out there. I can’t protect you from this.” The admission costs him, but he seems to decide it’s worth it when you look up at him. 

The tub isn’t really big enough for both of you, but he makes it work, long sprawling limbs propped up to make room for you against his chest. You lie on your side, both to make more room and to press your ear to his chest and listen to his strong, tender heart. 

He holds you there, hand gentle on your head and the other around your shoulder until neither of you can pretend the water is comfortable still.  More importantly, his cock’s been pressing against you for a little while now, and you’re unable to ignore it anymore.

You roll over on your stomach, legs bent a little funny to fit, but it’s the right angle to press a kiss to the fat mushroom head that you love so much. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need—”

But you just give him a look, because he knows better, he knows you’d never do anything you don’t want to. And he knows how often you crave it, how your throat aches for it.

He raises his hands in surrender. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ya.” 

With the convoluted seating arrangement, you’re able to swallow down his length, working your throat open in the way you’ve grown to know well. It’s a lot at once, but the way he groans is worth the effort. 

You choke and gag a little, but neither of you are really bothered by it. Quite the opposite. And you’re grateful for the way the thoughts you don’t want to face are knocked from your brain each time he ruts deeper. 

Too soon, though, he’s pulling you off, spit thick with precum stringing between him and your lips as you whine.

“C’mon, let’s get out. I gotta have more of you.”

You don’t dry off quite as much as you’d like, but you’re probably going to need to change the sheets anyway. He can’t be bothered to let you towel off properly, picking you up and setting you on the bed before crawling over your body.

He kisses you, ferocious but hesitant, and you trail your hands up his arms, basking in the way he encompasses you for the second time today. His soft, powerful body leaves no wiggle room, practically pinning you down with his bulk. 

Except he’s holding himself up, tense. And the gentleness of his tongue and distinct lack of nipping teeth in his kiss is grating. 

You turn your head to break apart. “Stop acting like I’m gonna fall apart.” 

“I—”

“Oh, don’t even. It’s like you think I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“I didn’t want to make it feel like…”

“I know,” you say, softer. “But I want to feel you, Joel. I don’t want to feel the ghost of it… him. Please.” 

“You wanna feel me, sweetheart? Want me to be a little rough with ya?” 

“Unless you’re too tired. S’it past your bedtime, old man?” 

He doesn’t fall for the taunt, but he pretends to, and you’re deeply grateful as he snarls and bites at your breast before licking and sucking at your nipple, taking it between his teeth and shaking a little. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, hand tangling into his hair. He wears it a little shaggier these days, and you find you like it long. A lot. 

“Think you can take it just like this?” he says around your other nipple. The hand that isn’t holding him up has reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your clit until you squirm, and then dragging it down your slit. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. I think you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait any longer than the first little nod of your head before he flicks his hips, parting you, forcing your body to make room for him. It takes a second thrust to push all the way in, and you cry out as he stuffs you full. 

It hurts so good. It’s just the edge you need to feel awake again. The world is no less fuzzy but the haze is pleasurable and electric instead of the numb fog that refused to dissipate. 

“That’s my girl,” he says. 

It floods you with warmth. You think maybe the sappiness is leaking through, that he can see how stupidly in love you feel. 

Or, you know, it’s actually leaking, since you’re apparently fucking crying. You can’t really begrudge yourself for it. It’s been a hell of a day. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, the gentleness of his voice playing second to the harsh slap of his hips and the tight pinch of his fingers on your breasts. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let me help you.” 

His pace, somehow, intensifies, the brutal snap of his cock blunt against the softest parts of you. He pushes your legs to your chest so he can shove his way in deeper, and smacks a harsh hand against your ass from his new vantage point. 

He grips your hip with one hand and lets up on your tits, only to show no mercy to your clit. He skips over the gentle circles and soft strokes, instead pinching and tugging. He wrenches two orgasms from you before he eases off. 

“Hold your pussy open for me,” he grunts.

You look at him with wide eyes. How can he still be finding ways to shock you with depravity? The two of you have to have fucked every which way, and yet. You slide a hand down but he shakes his head.

“Both of ‘em, baby. Nice and wide.” 

Your cheeks are burning as he lifts up onto his knees, pushing your legs apart to watch as you spread your lips wide. For a moment, he’s mesmerized by the push and pull of his cock splitting you apart and the way it comes out a little slicker each time. 

“Look at that,” he says, a smug smirk spreading. “Fuckin’ creamin’ all over me, sweetheart. Now hold still.”

Before you really process the order, still dying from how hot his filthy words are, he slaps your clit. You jerk and let go, crying out more in surprise than pain.

“Put your fuckin’ hands back,” he says, and you obey. 

Your whole body is on fire, maybe. He brings his hand down sharply again and again, making you hold yourself spread wide for him to use as he pleases. 

It doesn’t really surprise either of you when you come. He finally knocks your hands away from your cunt and leans back down over you, hips stammering sloppily. 

“Can I—” he chokes out, and you’re nodding so hard it shakes your brain around. He digs his fingers into your hips. “C’mon, sweetheart, one more. Gimmie one more while I fill you up.”

He goes to reach for your clit, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as he starts twitching and pulsing inside you, you come, eyes rolling back and fingernails digging into his biceps. 

When you’ve both settled, there’s something bright in his eyes, something wild and dangerous. He sinks his teeth into your collarbone and doesn’t pull out. His softening cock isn’t much smaller than it is erect, and he stays buried deep in you, eyes trailing over your face. 

“What?” you say softly.

“I thought… thought I fuckin’ lost you today.” His voice is gruff but tight.

“You didn’t, Joel. M’right here.”

He kisses you, and it’s not gentle exactly, not like earlier, but it’s tender and demanding. His hands grip you and roam, not pursuing pleasure but just to have his fill of you, to feel your body warm and alive beneath him. 

When he breaks away from your swollen lips, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did good. I don’t like it, but you did good. I’m not gonna ask you not to go out again, but—”

“I’m gonna ask Tommy if I can have a break,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’m not a coward, but I don’t know if I can do that again.” You’re burning again, but this time with shame.

“No one expects you to. It doesn’t mean you’re a coward. You’re tough, sweetheart. But y’ain’t a killer.”

“I am, though,” you whisper. 

“Stop. Yes, you killed that man today. But you had to. It was him or you. You’re a survivor. But I’m going to make damn sure you don’t have to be anymore, alright? We’re safe here, now.”

You let out a ragged sigh and try to relax back into the pillow. “Okay,” you agree. You can tell he needs it. How scared he was. 

At least for now, you’ll let him protect you from this.

*title from "Death For My Birthday" by Say Anything

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon pt. 4

request (anonymous): Just thinking it would be funny if secret weapon has an ex who's like 6'10 and they're on good terms, right person wrong time vibe yk? And he shows up to support her and they're like whomst???

tags: SFW, poly!judgement day, fem!reader, ex!brooks jensen, possessive TJD

A/N: i’m on a brooks jensen kick lately so he may not be 6′10 but forgive me...also i needed to put this out bc the inspiration is hitting me like a brick and i have ideas you just aren’t ready

mentions: @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​

Before The Judgement Day welcomed Y/N with open arms, she didn’t have many solid connections to the people she shared the ring with. Of course she had friends, but the industry sometimes made it difficult. That changed when she met Brooks, who had started training at the Performance Center not long after she did. He was someone she could confide in, someone she felt a connection with as more than a friend. Their relationship developed, but the two decided to split. They both still loved one another, but it wasn’t the right time. 

Y/N had to admit that ever since becoming the fifth member of The Judgement Day, she hadn’t thought about Brooks once. He hadn’t reached out to her since it was revealed that she was a new member, and it spoke volumes that she hadn’t thought about picking up the phone once to call him. Little did she know, he was in shock. And now that it had been a few weeks, Brooks thought he needed to saw something. 

The group was backstage at Monday Night Raw the five of them relaxing in their locker room before their appearance for later on in the show; Damian and Finn were stretching in one corner, Rhea was in another doing pull ups, and Y/N had her head in Dominik’s lap as they played video games together. For a crew who was so tough on the outside, they really were just five normal people. They all looked at the door when a knock came from the other side, and they were confused as they weren’t expecting anyone. Finn was the first to move, so when he opened the door he was shocked to see none other than Brooks. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” He asked the taller, larger man. “Last I checked we didn’t invite you.” Brooks rolled his eyes a little and tried to look behind Finn for Y/N, in which they made eye contact from her spot on the couch. “I need to talk to Y/N.” Brooks said confidently, Y/N already standing up even though Dominik tightened his grip on her waist. No one knew who Brooks was or what his connection to their girl was, so they were on edge once he said why he was there. “Sorry pal, she’s a little busy.” Finn said and began closing the door, but Y/N got up and stopped him. “Brooks…hi.” She said softly. 

To say the other four members in the room were shocked was an understatement. Not only were they surprised, but they were protective of Y/N and wanted to know who this was at the door. She turned to them and gently put her hand on Finn’s arm since he was the closest. “Give me a few minutes.” Y/N was going to go with Brooks regardless, but once her partners nodded in agreement and gave her the space she needed she closed the door and walked down the hallway with Brooks. 

Once they were alone the two embraced each other for the first time in a long time, and it felt good to Y/N to have someone there she knew cared about her. “God, baby. It’s so good to see you.” Brooks said into her shoulder as he squeezed her smaller body. She still smelled the same, of strawberries and flowers but now with a hint of cologne from each of her boys in the room. And her feminine aesthetic hadn’t changed in the slightest either, but he was still worried about the long term effects of being involved with The Judgement Day. “I’ve been worried about you.” 

Y/N pulled back to look at him with furrowed brows. “Worried?” She asked softly. “Brooks, I…I know you mean well but you don’t need to be worried. The four of them are amazing, and they’ve helped me so much.” Brooks put her down and gently held her arms. “You feel that way now, but they’re going to turn on you like they’ve turned on others in the past.” He warned her. “I just…I hate how people have treated you in the past and I don’t want it to happen again.” Y/N gave a soft sigh and looked up at her ex. “As if you wouldn’t be the first one I’d call if I needed help.” She teased softly, making him chuckle. “I promise you, I’m happy, And the four of them take amazing care of me.” Brooks just had to trust Y/N like he always had, so he nodded and pulled her into another hug. “I’m proud of you. And I’ll be watching you tonight front and center.” 

Y/N could feel herself buzzing with excitement when Brooks told her. She smiled at him and practically jumped up and down. “I think You’ll like the new stuff I’ve been working on. But I have to go get ready, so I’ll see you later?” Brooks nodded and gave her one last kiss on top of her head as a good luck before she ran back to the locker room. When she walked inside, she was met with four stares from four quite large individuals. 

“Care to explain?” Rhea asked first, her arms crossed over her chest and the look on her face making Y/N nervously play with her fingers. “He’s…he’s my ex. And we still have a really good relationship so he just wanted to talk.” She explained quickly. Damian shook his head a little and stepped closer. “Do you remember what we told you when you became a member of The Judgement Day, mi amor?” His words made Y/N shiver. Finn followed suit and stood in front of Y/N, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “In order to be the very best you can be, you need to leave everything behind that was holding you back.” He reminded her softly. Y/N frowned and looked at the four of them again. “I-I know, but…but that’s not Brooks! He’s always supported me…” she said softly. 

Dom was the next one to speak. He shook his head and stayed where he was, running a stressed hand through his hair. “That’s what you think. But you need to trust us for all of this hard work to truly pay off.” She turned her head from her partners and tried to think about what they were saying, but she knew they were right. “Yeah, I guess.” She said softly. In the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy to cut off Brooks. But she still had a match later in the night and she couldn’t think about anything other than that. 

Her partners all smiled in response, and this time Rhea was the one to step closer and wrap her arms around Y/N. “We promise this is the right thing to do, baby. You won’t regret it.” She said softly. Y/N nodded and leaned into Rhea’s touch. “Thank you all. I mean it.” Even though she still meant every word she said, she was still thinking about seeing Brooks in the crowd during her match tonight…and whether she should tell her four partners about that.

[husbandograveyard]

this is part of my drabble collection: The answer is love - Masterlist

Characters: Choso x GN reader Prompt:  "why can't you let me in? what are you so afraid of?" Warnings: slight angst, slight OOC Choso [A/n]: This one is too long to be a drabble, and honestly should have been longer to actually get to where I wanted to go? I may take this apart and rewrite someday to better incorporate Choso and his character, cause I don't think I did a good enough job here.

There was a distance between you and Choso that there hadn’t been when you first met each other. Maybe because there weren’t any feelings in the mix those first two times? You had loved his quiet charm, the way he was so attractive without even realizing it. He was funny without trying, sometimes without realizing, and he had -in your eyes- the perfect mix of a sweet and gentle, yet strong and aloof personality. Just your type and more. 

So, the initial getting to know conversations turned flirty from your side on pretty fast, yet unsuccessfully so. He didn’t seem to catch on. It was unclear if he didn’t want it to, or if he didn’t get what was going on. He didn’t seem to be the type to drag you along or to play with your feelings, so you were pretty certain it wasn’t a game, but you didn’t know how to proceed either. What could you do to make your feelings clear? 

You tried being more direct. Maybe not direct enough, but you started asking more questions, more intense and deep, showing an interest beyond that of people who are just getting to know each other as acquaintances, or even friends. 

He started to notice what you were doing, and initially, it all went well. You made progress, got to know him and then-

The little breaches you had made, the little connection points were starting to lose their power as he almost seemed avoidant every conversation, unwilling to go along. The buildup had been so slow, yet the crumbling down happened almost in an instant. You were taken off guard: what had happened? 

You were mentally preparing for an outright confrontation, but any conversation was like talking to a brick wall. You were losing your patience, and fast. 

"Why can't you let me in, Choso? What are you so afraid of?"

He was quiet, averted his gaze and took so long, way too long, to respond. 

“If I do so, I will care, I will get invested. And if I do that… there’s a chance of losing that all again.”

[an0thergl1tch]

Orange side/Logan headcanons :

*He’s either going to be impeccably dressed or look like an absolute dork because although he has a lot of information on fashion movements, he doesn’t exactly know how to dress to current styles. Like yeah he looks snazzy but that is not what you wear out to Walmart Logan.

*”You know what I can look cool, see I look cool!” *Patton trying very hard not to laugh* “You look great sweetie.”

*Ive personally enjoyed the idea of vintage tv car salesman/infomercial orange side recently. Considering Thomas’s connection with the media and Logan being connected with robots it would be fun to play into a character that isn’t quite human and is more machine. Plus I think it would be adorable way to incorporate Logan’s blurbs from the selfishness v selflessness episode.

*Playing off this I think it would be funny if he just randomly malfunctions occasionally, even better if he has to smack his own head like smacking a television to fix it. *logan staring at a wall* “sorry he’s buffering I’ll fix him” *Smacks him hard on the back of the neck and he falls into the wall like a pile of bricks* “Oops”

*Janus and Roman will inevitably tease him about going through his emo phase (it’s not a phase mom)

*If you took him to a rage room he’s either going to lightly kick things or he’s going to go feral. Either way he’s wearing way too much safety gear.

*Would punch a mirror but would immediately regret his decisions and would immediately come to Patton or Janus to patch it up (It ain’t even broken he just saw blood and panicked.)

[staydandy]

Stealer: The Treasure Keeper (2023) - 스틸러: 일곱 개의 조선통보 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : Throughout history, the treasures of an old empire have always been the best items for thievery. A professional thief named 'Skunk' forms an unofficial heritage redemption team called 'Team Karma' with a group of police officials to pull off an informal and illegal, yet in one sense righteous heist to retrieve the stolen heritages. In front of them is an all-time-scale mission. Somewhere in Korea, a large amount of cultural heritage that is worth 30 trillion won and spiritual beads that provide eternal life are buried. Against a group with a conscienceless purpose, Team Karma's thrill-filled retribution starts. (MDL) AKA : Karma: Seven Joseon Notices | Stealer: Seven Joseon Notices

Whumpee : Hwang Dae Myung / "Skunk" played by Joo Won • Shin Chang Hoon played by Kim Jae Won

Country : 🇰🇷 South Korea Genres : Action, Adventure, Mystery, Comedy

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • Someone likened him to Deadpool, and honestly, not a bad comparison. Not as brash as Deadpool, but style & comedy wise, I can see the connection.

Episodes on List : 11 Total Episodes : 12

*Spoilers below*

02 : Hwang Dae Myung falls down a burning hot rebar ladder, hitting his side on the way

03 : Passes out from knock-out gas (comedic)

04 : In a fight; hit several times with poles/boards.. shot several times while wearing a bulletproof suit, collapses.. in a fight in a van; chokehold, bitten … (@ 26:24, Korea is getting real sarcastic with their product ads these days 😂) … cuffed upside the back of the head … tied up; cuffed on a chair

05 : Thunderstorm causes traumatic flashbacks, unsteady .. (@ 21:13, seriously, these product ads are so off-the-wall funny) … in a fight, hit over the head with a brick, beat up, knocked out

06 : … continued from previous ep. ... Unconscious, unsteady … icing his bruises

07 : Shot (wearing bulletproof suit) … Shin Chang Hoon is in a fight, beat up; hit in the head several times, knocked out … bandaged

08 : Dae Myung PTSD from thunderstorm … [flashback] tied up, electrocuted, passes out (more on the comedic side), tied up again, electrocuted again

09 : Trapped in a room filling with poisonous gas … passes out … falls several times … trapped in a room with walls closing in … Chang Hoon is in a fight; head bleeding, cut … stabbed … crawling, passes out

10 : Limping … Dae Myung attending to the wounds on his arm … PTSD from thunderstorm; unsteady, heavy breathing … in a fight

11 : … continued from previous ep. ... Fight; neck scratched, strangled … passes out

12 : Car crash, knocked out, head bleeding … head pain, ear ringing

[allegra-writes]

"Teething troubles"

Lestat De Lioncourt x Louis De Pointe Du Lac

General Audiences, fluff.

Warnings: None. Lestat’s questionable parenting, toddler on toddler violence, Karen character.

Baby Claudia likes to bite people

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

Little Claudia had anger issues, there was no way around it. Lestat liked to joke she had inherited his temper, but truth be told, Louis did not find it funny. He did not find it funny when he got called from Claudia’s daycare because she had destroyed a toy in a fit of rage, he did not find it funny when the cat ran away scared because Claudia had screamed at him in reply to his hiss, and he did not find it funny when he had to rush her to the ER because she had banged the cupboard door with her tiny fists in frustration when it refused to open for her.

Lestat, of course, was of no use. He loved Claudia so much she was absolutely perfect in his eyes. His little princess could do no wrong, so why would he feel the need to correct her behavior? 

“I just don’t see what the big deal is" He expressed, sprawled on the park bench as if he owned the place, while they watched with vigilant eyes as Claudia frolicked around the playground. 

"Lestat, she bit Miss Lily!" Louis explained, clearly mortified, "Miss Bricks was aghast!" 

"Who's Miss Bricks?"

"The daycare's director"

Lestat was trying, and failing, to suppress a smirk.

"The director of Claudia’s daycare is called Miss Bricks?" 

"She also bit Armand"

That was too much for Lestat, who could not stop the giggles from rising up his throat, risking Louis' wrath. 

But far from getting mad, he seemed to be fighting a smile of his own.

"Don't-... Don't laugh" He protested, the corners of his mouth curving up despite himself. Luckily, he was saved by Claudia’s disgruntled noises of discontent as she attempted unsuccessfully to climb up the slide the same way she had slid down, instead of using the ladder like she was supposed to.

Lestat finally let himself go, laughing loud and boisterous, with his heart full of mirth but also of happiness, as he watched his little family. His Claudia, his daughter , the little spitfire of a baby he loved more than life itself, huffing and puffing and stomping her wee little feet, looking mortally offended the slide refused to cooperate with her; and his husband, the most beautiful man to walk the earth, as he tried to reason with her, using words as "frictional force" and "momentum" that she had no hope to understand. 

Baby Claudia, of course, remained unconvinced. 

"The problem," Louis sighed, as Claudia let out a pterodactyl screech after once again slipping down the slide she was trying to climb, "is that you set goals for yourself that are unattainable by both man and baby" 

Lestat was still giggling when Louis, defeated, came back to his side.

“I’m afraid she’s still a bit young for physics, mon amour”

Louis shrugged.

“She doesn’t like to be condescended at. Besides, she will understand one day. She’ll learn about physics and Sisyphus, look back at this moment, and start making a lot of connections…”

“Looks like that might not be the only connection she’ll be making” Lestat commented, nose scrunching in distaste as he watched a blonde little boy around Claudia’s age making his way to their daughter, probably wanting to see what the ruckus was all about.

The encounter, however, did not seem to be going well, as the kid raised his hand, reaching for one of Claudia’s piggy tails, and tugged hard. 

Twin yells of “Hey!” resonated through the park as Louis and Lestat jumped to their feet to rush to their daughter’s defense, but were stopped by a blonde woman, clearly the aggressive child’s mom. 

“Oh, don’t worry!” She chuckled, her high-pitched cackles nowhere nearly as cute as Lestat’s laugh to Louis’ ears, “It just means he likes her!”

Louis De Pointe Du Lac had never been a violent man. In fact, he proud himself on being a master of his instincts. There was nothing he hated more than those racist stereotypes that painted people of color as being hot-tempered and belligerent. But the moment he saw his baby girl’s eyes well up with tears, he knew he could have torn that chauvinistic nincompoop of a woman and her rude spawn to pieces. He was already advancing, on auto-pilot, his body moving forward before his mind could authorize the movement, when he felt Lestat’s grounding hand on his chest.

“Oh, look!” He commented, casually, his tone deceivingly sweet as Claudia threw herself at the boy, tackling him to the ground. “It seems our little Claudia likes him back!”

“Tommy!” Screamed the horrified woman, no longer cheerful, running to help his brat, whose cheek was currently between Claudia’s small but sharp teeth. 

Neither he nor Lestat made a single move to help the blonde pair. And, honestly, Louis didn’t even think of reprimanding his husband as he took their daughter in his arms, praising her for “sticking up for herself” and “a job well done”. How could he, when Claudia was beaming, waving the handful of blonde curls she had plucked off her would-be harasser's head around triumphally for her papas to see?

Yeah, there would come a time, probably soon, when they’d have to address Claudia’s temper problem. But that day wasn’t it. 

Next part

[moe-broey]

AUGH Pokemon Scar/Vio DLC spoilers below bc I'm NOT gonna have anyone to talk about this with for a little while LMFAOOO

God I wish when Kieran ran off with the mask, challenged you to a battle to get it back, and lost that battle. I DESPERATELY WISH he just ran off with the mask again anyway. LIKE. For one could you imagine how fucking funny that would have been LMFAO but also!!!!! I think something like that happening would have absolutely raised the stakes, AND would have given you a reason to be mad at him. I think, what Kieran needed MOST as a character and the development they're taking with him, is for him to have moments where he doubles down and is stubborn and bratty.

LIKE. This is going to get SO incoherent LMFAO but I'm thinking about Hortensia Fire Emblem's whole character arc, where you meet her and she's bratty right off the bat. But the thing that GETS me about her is that she doubles down. She's stubborn. And you see Why, you see her scared and hurt and traumatized as she's trying to figure out what to do next. And what REALLY makes her character to me, is when not even Ivy being on your side is enough for her to join you. She still needs time. And by "time", I mean needs to keep digging her grave deeper because she just can't stop yet. LIKE. She's acting out. Which isn't me invalidating anything, like, I'm struggling to find the words for it but she's just 14 about it you know. Something SO horrible has happened and you feel SO MUCH about it that not even your older sister can talk sense into you, at least not right now.

I THINK. The connection I want to make here is that I think Kieran has SO MUCH POTENTIAL as a blooming antagonistic character, he just NEEDED a moment like Hortensia has with Ivy. Where she doubles down on her path. And I think Kieran, maybe initially planning on keeping his word... when you defeat him, and everything just wells up inside and overtakes him. I think THAT would have been a fantastic and shocking moment, if you could see him make that decision to Make Things Worse in real time. And I can only IMAGINE the reaction that would have gotten out of Carmine too!!!

AND. CARMINE. CARMINE. I FIND HER SO FASCINATING. LIKE. Yeah yeah overheard a conversation/misunderstanding tropes are cliche and can be super annoying as a storytelling device. AUGH BUT I FEEL LIKE IT COULD ACTUALLY WORK FOR THEM..... with how both of them Are. I think Carmine and Kieran have SUCH incompatible personalities and there is SO much to explore there. Like. It's established as soon as you meet them, that they must be close and care for each other. You see it in how Carmine looks after Kieran, speaking up for him when he's struggling to, and you see how Kieran admires and looks up to her as he cheers her on in battle. But you ALSO see that Carmine has the emotional intelligence of a brick and she is naturally just. Abrasive and temperamental, with an ego. ALL. HORRIBLE TRAITS TO HAVE IN ONE REALLY HAHAH (I love her though). And you see that Kieran is EXTREMELY sensitive, shy and mopey.

BUT ALSO. WHAT GETS ME ABOUT KIERAN ACTUALLY. Is how you See those traits evolve and twist into more detrimental versions of themselves. AND you start seeing some Similarities he has with Carmine. He also is temperamental. He also has an ego. THIS. WAS SO COOL TO SEE TBH!!! Espppp seeing the uglier aspects of being "shy" and "sensitive". Traits that are really easy to make endearing and to woobify. It's easy to look over just how destructive these traits can get, when you take things too personally and then shut yourself off completely. AND. THE EGO. ADDED ONTO THIS. The fact that he IS a sore loser, the fact that he DOES get bratty about it. Like, I think another thing I really appreciate about Kieran is he acts his age. He quickly starts to feel like the entire world is against him AND he's 14 about it.

In turn, I think I really appreciate how Carmine is so much just an older sister. Like. Yeah, she has a temper and an ego. But also, I think you see that she's a pretty good sport actually. She's competitive, but she's not actually holding anything against you (beyond like, her frustrations about her home town feeling like a tourist spot -- which like! I think is reasonable actually, to dislike that). Like. She's abrasive, she's prideful, but ultimately she does have an air of maturity. She is Not 14 about it. On account of not being 14, unlike her little brother LMFAOOO (ALSO!!! I think it's clear how much she Does care too, how she does end up looking out for you, how she congratulates you and hypes you up... like!!! She's just a little bit of a jackass LMFAO but I love her for it)

And like ultimately maybe all this is just set up for a slow burn, as Kieran goes sicko mode LMFAO but I REALLY wish. There was at least ONE moment where he did something that's just a dick move. And REALLY digs his heels in. Makes it clear, compromise is NOT an option for him, not right now. That, for a while, no one is going to be able to reach him, not even his sister. He just needs to get it out of his system.

Plus, I think it would be incredibly useful for the player to have a reason to be mad at him, because GOD. I HATE. MORE THAN ANYTHING. When Pokemon gives you rivals you just feel bad for!!!!!! Like I just pity him!!!! I think he's right to feel the way he does and I think he has every right to act out. And like, I think I'd Still feel that way actually, if he did actively make bad choices that just makes everything worse and Isn't particularly palatable about it LMFAO. BUT. At VERY least, if he pulled a dick move, I can have something justifiable to want to fight him over. Lowkey Takumi feelings actually, where one of my favorite things about him is When he's an asshole, and it IS entirely on him, like... it's vindicating to see other characters push back. I, as the player, want the characters to get his ass for it. And it's rewarding, when he does come around (either immediately or after some time), and tries to make up for it. Like.... give me a reason to WANT to get Kieran's ass. Piss EVERYONE off in the process, ESPECIALLY your sister for the angst and drama of it all!! I just feel like I stomped on a little autistic boy's dream and stole away the object of his special interest HSKAHKSHA dude THIS SUCKS 😭😭😭😭😭

AUGH!!!!!!!!!! Anyway misc thoughts

The townspeople's turnaround about the ogre off screen was SO STUPID LMFAOOO LIKE. Like yeah yeah Pokemon game......... but you know what else was a Pokemon game. Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Sky. LIKE AGSJHSJSJSJJ I FEEL LIKE SUUUUCH A CRAZY RAMBLY OLD MAN but Pokemon Scarlet/Violet HAD THE POTENTIAL. TO BE ON THAT LEVEL. I THINK. PERSONALLY. ON A STORYTELLING FRONT. And AGAIN I feel like there could have been potential here.

Like I think the main issue is the story even in the canon itself took place in too short of a time to develop in the way I think it deserved. But I'm thinking about the whole Process in PMD2 of returning from the Future, you, your partner, and Grovyle. How the three of you Can't just go back to the guild, especially Grovyle in tow, a wanted outlaw in this time period. How it takes days, of laying low, planning carefully, gathering intel, and hitting a wall, before finally deciding you really have no where else to turn BUT Wiggletuff's Guild. AND. AND. THE WHOLE PROCESS. THAT WHOLE THING CHATOT PUTS YOU THROUGH. AFTER TELLING YOUR STORY. Where Every Single Guild Member Individually has to decide, no, Chatot, I'm with Hero and Partner actually. Up against The Great Dusknoir's reputation, Grovyle's reputation, and your standing as the most recent additions to the guild versus Chatot's standing, Wiggletuff's right hand man, second in command, a respected authority figure.

LIKE........ I just think. With the folklore surrounding Ogrepon and the Loyal Three. Even if they didn't have That Much Time to build up to it exactly like that (speaking canonically, school trip constraints), I think. Even just a scene where You're part of trying to tell the town the truth about Ogrepon and the Loyal Three, AND you see the inital pushback, especially from an authority figure (maybe the Caretaker?) would have been enough. Especially would have been nice to see, instead of every NPC talking about how they got things wrong -- if there was divide and conflict, some believing you and feeling regretful towards how Ogrepon was treated, and others not believing you at all, ESPECIALLY as an outsider, who are you to tell us our history? AND even a few NPCs who are on your side, but are still in a state of disbelief or feeling betrayed. Like. Make us feel the weight of Why Carmine and Kieran's family kept this a secret for generations. (ALSO LITERALLY DIDN'T THEIR ANCESTOR TRY TO TELL THE TRUTH AND WAS HARSHLY DISMISSED AND CRITICIZED???? Why would Kieran be treated differently now for doing the same thing???????)

I guess last thoughts about Carmine and Kieran I didn't get to earlier but. I think you can See, as the story plays out, where there is this building frustration that turns to resentment from Kieran, towards how Carmine treats him. How, while she does speak up for him, she also speaks over him. What she sees as probably tough love or standard older-sibling teasing, HE takes it just. So personally. And it festers. It seems he feels ignored, dismissed and invalidated -- and his dialogues where he is mopey, and Carmine (almost on the right track), calls it for what it is -- her baby brother just being a baby. Like, I say "Almost on the right track", because in a way she Is Right. He's Very Loudly sulking and pouting, she sees this and sees he's being 14 about it. But she fails to consider just how much Kieran internalizes this treatment, of being teased and having others around you be told "He'll get over it". WHICH... even if he does. Even if he will. Something that JUMPS out to me IS how loudly he's moping and sulking, how dramatic it is. To me, it's like a cry for attention, for someone to listen to him and take his feelings seriously.

THIS. IS WHAT I MEANT BEFORE. When I talked about how the misunderstanding trope actually lends itself SO well to these two characters, as siblings who do love each other, but there IS this emotional distance. Where Carmine looks over Kieran's feelings, and doesn't know what to do with them, and Kieran is going to internalize all of this until he implodes. And when he DOES implode, when it feels like his entire world is crashing and burning around him (in a way, it IS his whole world!)... he doesn't trust her at all. Whether Carmine meant to or not (which, I don't think she has ever meant to hurt him, I do think it's the incompatibility), Kieran has been made to feel like he's an outcast, like his feelings don't matter, and no matter what he does, no one is going to listen to him or care about him. WHICH IS. AGAIN. WHY. I THINK HE NEEDS TO FUCK SHIT UP MORE. That is the GO TO thing to do when you're a kid and you feel this way LMFAOOO

Aughghhh........ Pokemon Scarlet and Violet you have so much potential I just wish you'd FOLLOW THROUGH and PUT YOUR WHOLE PUSSY INTO IT (AND MAYBE THEY WILL. IN THE FUTURE. THIS IS THE FIRST DLC. HOWEVER. I do think there are certain areas in general, like the ogre ordeal, where they just dropped the ball 😔)

[knownangels]

hang out

wc: 1.7k

Someone grabs him from behind.

Benji lifts from his body, eyes shuttering like they always do, and bursts into motion. 

He drops to a knee as he spins out of grasp, shrugging away the shoulder pawed by a stranger’s hand. And then in a series of movements, he has the unlucky bastard’s knee knocked to the side, spun off-balance. It gets Benji in range. Benji’s awful in range. Up-close.

But in the back of his mind, he’s prompted into harsh movements by something even worse than in-range training. 

Betrayed, a little voice hisses. Compromised.

It’s that special rage that pushes Benji back to his feet, the body of his attacker in tow. It’s that rage that spins it by the shoulders to face him, momentum throwing the person into rapid, desperate stumbles as Benji walks them both forward. Directly, and without much care for gentleness, further into the depths of the alley. Towards the brick.

As his back hits the wall, Xavier makes a cartoonish sort of ack! sound. It’s so absurd Benji immediately snaps from wherever his head had gone. Not knowing whether it’s unintentional or intentional (but, knowing this one: with a desperate need for Benji to agree with his humor). 

That thought, really, is what snaps him out of it. That it’s Xavier trying to make him laugh, even with a forearm to his throat.

“Dude,” Xavier wheezes, grinning even as his breath cuts short. It makes him sound funny, and he must agree, because he’s grinning like a lunatic while he says it. “I just wanted to hang out.” 

*

They do. A not-so-carefully organized rendezvous whose coordinates were delivered in code over an agreed frequency. How Xavier manages to get this deep behind lines, Benji isn’t sure — but he figures it has something to do with the arsenal of networking and connections Xavier has established for himself amongst his group. Or so he assumes, based on how much the bastard yaps. 

For twenty minutes. For twenty minutes, they converse. They joke. For twenty minutes, (Benji counts as discretely as he can with glances at his watch) they circle the outer path of the city. It’s mostly an entertainment and commercial distract; these days, it houses a quickly dwindling array of shops and venues. 

“It used to be cool.”

“It’s still pretty cool,” Xavier says. He can’t stop looking above them, through the great glass dome encapsulating the city. “I mean, we don’t have anything like this —oh fuck! Is that a whale?”

Benji nods, but he doesn’t have the attention for it. Xavier’s darted down a path, eyes wide with childish excitement as he watches the great, dark shape in the far distance traverse the ocean floor like a hawk in the sky. Slowly, inch by inch, it fades the same mottled black-blue of the horizon until its gone, swallowed up by the dark water beyond.

Maran hates this place. He’d been here exactly once, to the comic store around the corner from where Benji leads them now. And then he had sworn, as typical, to never ever fucking come back. 

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” 

Benji snaps out of his thoughts. He’d been walking with Xavier close behind, the enemy soldier at his back —

The enemy soldier, Benji thinks, grounding himself. At his back.

He slows until Xavier passes him. His brow furrows. He feels no apprehension or fear or adrenaline; he should have. Xavier is armed. And Xavier is — Xavier. Benji’s seen him in the midst of it. 

“Yes,” Benji confirms. He steps up to the shopfront, shoulder to chest with the other man. “You said you liked music.”

Xavier tilts to smile at him. “Fuck, dude. I meant like — I go to the club and like music.” He gestures broadly at the store. “Not, like, actual real music. Or making it.” 

Benji shrugs. “Club music’s still music, mate. Got a decent beat.” 

“Tell me about it.” Xavier adopts a strange stance, then lifts both arms in the air and drops his chin as he bounces in place, unce-unce-unce of his own bad synth impression serving as tempo. When he stops, his hair’s a bit of a mess and his cheeks are flushed.

Benji clears his throat. “Ah, well. My bad. Can’t really recommend you clubs. Y’know. Considering. I, uh. Like this place,”

“Yeah? Can I guess?”

“Guess?” Benji asks, flustered. 

Xavier laughs. “Yeah, dude. What you play.” At Benjis surprised expression, his laughter bursts forth again. “Benji, come on. You’re totally obvious.”

“Alright, then, if I’m obvious. What?” 

“Hm.” Xavier says, eons of philosophers providing wisdom to that single, brief noise. “Saxophone.”

“Fuck yourself!” Benji splutters. He shoves Xavier, who stumbles a bit into the brick behind him. “Dickhead.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Xavier leans back into Benji’s space, as if forced by gravity. “Um. Bass?”

“Drums.” Benji holds up his hands, flexes them. “Couldn’t tell?” 

Xavier swallows. His eyes dart between Benji’s raised fingers, green finding brown in the gaps. “I was wondering.”

“Used shit sticks as a kid.” Benji says. He taps a finger against the window. “Like those.”

Xavier looks to where he points. “What’s that brand?”

“Why, you lookin’ to upstage me?”

Xavier smile stays turned toward him a split second longer than Benji thinks it ought to. Only after that lingering beat does his pale, freckled chin turn towards the store display. Brass and cherry-red candy paint acrylic guitars gleaming new behind an already glossy window. It looks like its cared after regularly and maybe even obsessively. There’s a bright yellow sale sticker in the bottom left, shaped like a star: voted best manufacturer by DRUM! four years in a row. 

“Never heard of this one. Don’t have it.” Xavier sways forward and taps the glass. “Amazon Basics. You can get, like, everything.” He frowns. “Uh, mostly because they like. Own...everything.”

Benji thinks back to his main supply pack, propped against the bottom of his cot on base. There’s a pair of worn and oil-darkened sticks tucked inside for luck. 

He frowns, staring at the laser-etched logo. “Mad.” He notes, drawing the vowel long. 

“What?”

“We’ve got a few — brands, I mean. Myself, m’kinda sentimental. Only used Yamaha growin’ up ‘cause they were cheap.” He looks up at Xavier. “Never heard of Amazon. Instrument company?”

“Dude.” 

Benji’s turn. “What?”

“Dude.” Xavier repeats, answering absolutely nothing. He takes Benji by the shoulders and shakes him. “You don’t have Amazon over there? Oh, fuck, that’s like…wicked inconvenient.” 

Benji blinks at him.

Xavier smiles wider. “Imagine overnight shipping. Same hour shipping. You guys got that?” 

Benji blinks at him again, then scoffs. “Mate, we’re lucky to get three weeks. You lot keep comin’ and pinchin’ the majority of our power source, remember?”

Xavier’s laugh is slightly delayed. Once it comes, it’s a big, bark of a sound. 

Then he sobers. Benji’s smile dies a bit, too. Suddenly the moment is too visceral, the conflict around them closing in less backdrop. 

It feels so different with you, Benji thinks. It feels slower. I forget. The fondness rolls his stomach with a knife-twist sharp like anxiety, serrated like fear. 

“Do you want me to break in and steal you the cool multidimensional drum sticks?” Xavier whispers. His voice is dead serious, pitched low. But there’s a little slippery twist to the words that lets Benji know he’s being…teased? 

He snorts. 

“Aw, you’re a right evil bastard, aren’t you?” Benji grins, spurned on by the shamed flush on Xavier’s face. “The family owned shop? I’d judge you.”

“I don’t want you judging me,” Xavier sing-songs. He tucks his hands in his pants pockets, swaying. “I just want you to like me.” 

Benji rolls his eyes. “You’re alright.”

Xavier takes a step. Benji has to tilt his chin up to keep their eyes level. 

“Just alright?” 

He lifts a gloved hand, pinches index and thumb together. “Fine. Bit better than alright.” 

Xavier must mean for his next look to be silly; outrageously flirty. But without trying, mostly because of how his eyes slip half-closed, he manages to land between coy and sultry. It, Benji thinks, is a dangerous place for him to be. 

“You gonna give it up any time soon?”

Xavier’s brows waggle. “Literally the second you say flip, I am fucking flipping.” 

“Can you?” 

“Fuck off.” Xavier laughs. His hands finally slip from Benji’s shoulders, although they don’t go without a friendly (friendly?) squeeze. “Maybe not, actually. Haven’t tried.” 

“I meant,” Benji laughs. “I meant if you’re gonna give up the act, Xavier.” 

“The act.” 

“The act.” Benji says.

“The…act.”

He throws his hands up in the air, laughing. “Fuckin’ hell. Got myself a shadow and a damn echo.”

But every light moment seems to catch wrong on the edges; when Benji tosses his head back, he sees not just the deep, sun-mottled blue of the ocean above, but each explosive orange burst of the battle outside the domed city’s safety.

He remembers, suddenly, that he stands in one of the most secure bastions of that — safety — left. Because of the man in front of him, smiling with his fingers tucked a millimeter beneath his sleeve. Benji glances down at that, and tries a hundred different ways not to romanticize the touch’s softness in direct comparison to the literal war being raged above. 

He tries, anyway. 

“When I found you in that alleyway,” Xavier starts, his fingers drawing circles on Benji’s skin, “I was going to kill you and loot you and sneak back home in your uniform.”

Benji wonders if he’ll ever tire of the up-downs of being around Xavier, the constant shifts in energy and tone — without the sensation of being yanked about, Benji likes being kept on his toes. 

“Now there’s a thing to admit,” Benji says wryly. “And of your own free will n’volition, too.” 

Xavier moves again. Another step. The smallest he seems capable of taking; he’s in Benji’s space, barely, and touching, but only just. Benji can’t figure out which side of the other soldier this is: purposeful or natural. 

“Shut up, I’m not done.” His hand trails up Benji’s forearm, squeezes. “When I got closer I was like, well no fucking shot. Right? You’re just —”

“Got a bit on you, hey?” Benji teases. His eyes feel heavy, but without exhaustion. “And you on me, suppose?”

Xavier blinks sluggishly at him. His mouth, lips slightly parted, splits into another wild grin. 

“Hah. That’s what she said.”

Benji gives him a quizzical look. “What?” 

“Wot?” Xavier shakes his head. “You don’t have The Office either? Man. This universe sucks.” He winks. “At least it has you.”

“Awful,” Benji amends, ducking his head slightly. “Amended to awful, not alright.” 

“Benji.” 

He glances up. Xavier cradles the side of his face like that means something. 

“We’re — I have to —” his eyes dart between Benji’s own. There’s an unreadable expression on his face. Xavier is not smiling. “I want — fuck. Can we kiss again?” 

Benji nods, tongue glued thick to the roof of his mouth. As Xavier leans forward, ducking down in the grim blue light, he catches one last glimpse of the fiery battle above. 

One they both should be fighting. 

[flower1622]

Unfinished Fanfics (p.1)

. The goddess not so ordinary

Ships: Annabeth/Percy, Padme/Anakin, Original Character/Original Character, Diego/Matilda, Goku/Chichi, Sasuke/Hinata/Naruto, Nico/Will, Boomer/Bubbles, Blossom/Brick, Buttercup/Butch, Adrien/Marinette, Achilles/Patroclus, Merlin/Arthur, Harry/Draco, Albus/Scorpius, Boruto/Sumire

Friendship: Hercules and Iolaus

A baby was born called Selena. She was the daughter of Zeus and Hera. Eris, jealous of her sister, threw Selena to the human world. Now, Selena has to live a life like a "human". After many years, Selena finds a Greek Academy. But she didn't expect that one of the heroes, descendants of gods and witches, could be swayed by the dark side. That person would be considered by the gods as the hero of the prophecy. Selena would need to figure out who was it to help the person not to become what the gods feared.

. Kronos knew Luke would sacrifice himself, so Kronos splits in two and his other part possesses another body.

. Annabeth dies. Nico and Will have their lifes connected. So, if Will dies, Nico dies too.

. Clarisse and Percy stay together in the sequel. They adopt Selena's baby.

. The heroes got turned into vampires and they want to turn the people they love.

. Brothers and Sisters

I thought about a story that a popular girl at school called Claire would be the center of attention of two handsome popular boys, called Cody and Zack. They are both rivals. But, what they don't know is that they are actually wizards, born from the same Dad.

- Cody will be a kind and smart guy who everyone likes. He would have green eyes and blonde hair. He would like Claire.

- Zack would be a sassy and evil guy who everyone would fear and admire. He would have green eyes and black hair. He would like Claire.

- Claire would be a kind and smart cheerleader who everyone likes and adores. She would be a witch. She would have an evil twin sister called Meredith, something that she doesn't know. She would have brown hair and brown eyes. She would like Cody.

- Meredith would be a smart and evil girl who everyone fears, admires and hates. She would be a powerful witch who hates Claire and likes Cody. She and Claire would be rivals.

-  Brittany would be Claire's best friend. She would be a smart and funny black girl with black eyes and black hair. She likes to dance Hip Hop. Brittany would be a normal girl. She would be like a precious sister to Claire, like a rock that holds Claire. If something happened to her, Claire would be very devastated.

- Zack and Cody would have a best friend called Michael. Michael would be a nice and strong athlete boy. He would like Brittany. He would be like a bridge that connects Zack and Cody. He would stop the brothes' fights. Michael would have dark eyes and dark hair.

- In the end, Meredith would be with Cody and Claire would be with Zack. Brittany would be with Michael.

. Bites to Suck

In another world, a band called BTS was very famous. But, there was something nobody knew about them. They were vampires, except for one: Namjoon. The other members were very protective of Namjoon and very obsessed with him too. Everything he did, they were always watching him. Even though Namjoon was their leader, he still had a kind heart and many people use him because of it. They try to protect him in the best way possible. But after being turned evil, they want to turn him. Each one of them has a special power.

[otherworldlyhope]

Chapter 1: The Harsh Realities of Falling

CW: Injury/blood, violence, Scar being Scar/ Words: 4092

Grian has always felt he was too observant of a person. Whether that was a gift or a curse was hard to tell at times. During his University days it had felt like a harsh curse inflicted on him. His ability to pick up on the slightest change of emotions and movements made him constantly paranoid and unable to make friendships.

When the first wave attacked, his curse suddenly became his greatest asset. 

His breaths come out in soft gasps as he ducks behind a shelving unit. He strains his ears as he clutches his knife close to him. His knuckles burn white as he waits, counting the steps in his mind.

One step, a slight drag. Another, a longer drag. A loud groan. 

With a quick breath he sprang from his hiding spot, swinging the knife in his hands. It connects easily, a wet squelch filling the air at his movement. The figure in front of him sways on its feet before dropping to the floor.

Grian’s head shoots up as the thud only brings more groans and footsteps. He curses under his breath and wrenches the blade from the creature’s skull. His hands are suddenly warm, an unfortunate side effect that came with stabbing the creatures.

He sneers and sinks even lower. His footsteps stay light, barely balancing on the balls of his feet. He wants to wipe the rotten blood from his hands, but knows he doesn’t exactly have the time. The steps only get closer, coming from multiple directions. Grian’s mind is on overdrive, analyzing every noise he hears. He slowly creeps behind the register, holding his breath as he steps over cracked glass.

It barely makes a noise, but the creatures are quick to respond. Their groans get louder as he rises from his position, eyes directed at the door. His feet follow the path he lays out, jumping over fallen shelves.

The shrieks behind him only propel him further. His lungs burn as he reaches the outside world. The flickering lights of the convenience store behind him cast a shadow of his running figure on the asphalt. 

His feet slap on the wet street, his breaths coming out in harsh pants. He can’t help but curse the sky as rain is pouring around him. He almost slips on multiple occasions, his leather boots barely keeping him upright. The only good thing about the rain is that it hides his footsteps well. As soon as he ducks into an alleyway the small horde following him passes without a second look. He pushes himself against the brick wall and lets out a sigh of exhaustion. 

His radio crackles to life and he rushes to turn down the volume. 

“Griba are you alright?”

Pearl’s voice sounds panicked. He can hear the fear in her tone, even with the crappy sound quality. He takes a look around the alley before bringing the radio to his lips.

“All good.” He says, “Ran into a pretty big horde and was cornered for a while.” He laughs quietly to himself, “The sun is going down so I think I’ll find a rooftop to stay on for the night.”

“Are you sure you can’t make it back?” An equally panicked British voice rang out. “Won’t it be dangerous at night?”

Grian chuckles to himself again, rolling his eyes at the man. Mumbo wasn’t the most stable person at times. While it was funny most of the time, it also meant the group was more cautious than they needed to be. His anxiety had saved them before though, so the group rarely dismisses his ideas.

“I’d rather travel during the day and not during a storm.” Grian reasons with the man. “I’ve got limited vision and that horde could be anywhere by now. Don't worry about me, potato boy.”

“All I do is worry about you.”

“Well that’s a you problem.”

He imagines Pearl laughing at a red faced Mumbo. Grian turns to look around the alley and his eyes narrow as he sees metal glinting in the rain. His hands quickly find the rungs of an old ladder which he begins to scale. Once on the rooftop he takes the heavy bag off his shoulders. Luckily the convenience store he found hadn’t been completely raided. There were enough pills and bandages to last at least the winter. 

He had also grabbed some weird things he thought Mumbo could use from the shelves. The previous engineering major had made some of the strangest contraptions. The worst part of it was that they all somehow worked, despite looking awful.

Grian doubts he could sleep, so he moves to the edge of the building. He swings his legs over the side of the roof, looking at the streets stretching beyond him. It’s strange, seeing a once bustling city be completely still. Even after months of test runs Grian has a hard time believing what he sees is real. 

The streets are barren and silent, something that still makes Grian nauseous to think about. Once upon a time he had cruised through the lively streets, him and Pearl being typical University students. Even in the early hours of the mornings the city was full of life. Now there was nothing but the patter of rain and occasional undead shrieks. Each one he hears makes him frown. 

In the distance he sees the light of the Perimeter. Doc and his cronies have no fear of the undead there. They’re well defended and have plenty of manpower.

“Did you find yourself a spot?” Pearl snaps him from his thoughts with a sharp tone.

He nods, then remembers she can’t see him. 

“Yeah I should be good for the night.” He says, “I’m gonna turn the radio to emergency only just in case it stops raining. Don't call unless you actually need to.”

“What if Mumbo decides to steal my pudding again?”

“You could always throw him to the undead.” Grian snickers.

“Hey!” Mumbo complains, “I didn’t know it was yours.”

“Yeah right.”

Grian flips his radio off and the arguing goes silent. His chest aches for just a moment at the quiet. Already he can hear the rain lightening. It was nice as he was soaked to the bone and can’t imagine spending the entire night under the downpour.

His legs kick lightly against the building as he glares at hunched forms crossing the street ahead. The horde has gained more members it seems, and they weren’t moving far. It’s almost comical how inhuman the undead are. Years of movies about zombies had society believing they were still slightly human. 

These creatures were downright terrifying though. At first they could be mistaken for a person, until they get closer. With odd movements and limbs sticking out at unnatural angles their gaits fall between a walk and a crawl. They are fast though. Some of the older ones have evolved to be on all fours and when they start  to run it is terrifying. Grian shivers as he remembers the unearthly screeches that come from the fastest ones.

The longer they are alive the worse they get. Grian could always tell which ones were from the first wave. Those were the most dangerous of them all. Grian shudders and stands quickly to shake the thoughts away. He didn’t like dwelling on the undead. They honestly freak him out. 

He lays on the gravel roofing, letting stray raindrops fall onto his face. The stars have finally started to shine and Grian takes a small comfort in seeing them. The one good thing about most of the population being wiped out is that there was no light pollution.

Each night the stars are bright and clear, a hint of the galaxy coloring the sky. Grian had once spent hours learning the constellations to keep himself busy on sleepless nights.

His eyelids become heavier as he stares at the night sky. He concedes to his exhaustion, falling into a dreamless sleep.

~ ~ ~

His eyes shoot open as he hears a slight shuffle on the gravel beside his head. In seconds he is standing, holding out his knife. He blinks a few times to clear the grogginess from his eyes and when he focuses his heart drops.

At least four of them have joined him on the roof. They are newer, still shuffling slowly with outstretched hands. He scoops up his bag and casts his eyes to the ladder. The undead were blocking that path though, leaving him few options. 

Luckily he had planned a second escape route last night. It just required a bit of athleticism on his part. He darts to the other side of the roof, judging the distance to the other building. His chances of making the jump aren’t the greatest, but it’s the only option he has.

He glances back at the approaching undead and takes a few steps back. With a deep breath he gives himself a running start and leaps to the nearby rooftop. He’s sure he clears it, until his ankle hits at the wrong angle and rolls.

The dread hits as he stumbles back, a sharp pain in his foot distracting him momentarily. By the time he’s realized what’s happening his other foot is over open air, and then it drops.

A strange weightlessness settles in his chest as he starts to fall. Windows fly past him in a blur and he braces himself to hit the ground. If he was lucky he would die on impact; at least that way the undead wouldn’t get to him. Unfortunately luck isn’t on his side. He lands with a sickening crunch, a searing pain ripping through his chest. Almost immediately there is warmth beneath him, and it starts to spread.

He tries to push himself up with his arms and has to choke out a scream of pain. It burns through every nerve, leaving him paralyzed on the ground. His fingers twitch as he tries to reach for his knife. If he can’t move, then he can at least take himself out first. He refuses to be turned into one of them. His movements get faster as he hears the familiar dragging footsteps of one of them. 

He had never thought he would survive this forever, it was foolish. He had hoped he would last long enough to protect those he loved, but that seems unlikely now.

The problem is that he can barely feel anything. When his fingers brush his belt the last hope of an easy death leaves him. The knife is gone, probably somewhere beside him. He buries his face into the ground below, a sudden urge to cry filling him.

He had never cried once since the outbreak. He refuses to let Pearl and Mumbo see him weak as he is supposed to be their protector. He can’t help but let the tears gathering in his eyes fall though, dripping onto the concrete.

He tries to convince himself it’s from the pain. 

As the steps get louder he tenses despite the dizziness it brings him. He has always wondered what it would feel like to die to an undead. It seems he will finally get an answer to his question. Just as he can feel the touch of the creature it disappears. There is a thud beside him and he cracks his eyes open to see it beside him on the ground.

“Man, that was quite a fall.” A voice echoes through the alley.

Grian turns to look up and immediately regrets the decision. The sharp pain makes him hiss and curl into himself.

“You’re still kicking aren’t you?” The voice is curious, getting closer. “How’d you manage that?”

He can only let out a groan, unable to form any words that didn’t contain a curse. They immediately spring from his lips as he feels a rough hand grab his shoulders though. He can feel himself dragged against the rough ground, his boots skidding across the concrete. A trail of blood follows him.

~ ~ ~

There’s humming. The first thing he registers is strangely Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You. It’s a jarring way to be woken up to say the least.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he wakes up. He feels unnaturally warm, sweat beading on his forehead. There’s a weight on his shoulders that he determines are blankets after a moment. Once he realizes this he is struck with confusion. Why are there blankets on him?

Suddenly the pain hits and he is reminded of the unfortunate accident leading him to bleeding out on the concrete. His entire body aches in ways he hasn’t felt since the first wave hit. He can’t even pinpoint where it’s coming from at this point, but void it hurts. 

The humming turns into singing and Grian’s head protests at the noise. It’s not that the person is especially bad, it’s just far too loud for the space they’re in. Grian forces his eyes open and is greeted with a regular looking apartment. A small kitchenette is against one wall while a couch is on the other side. 

The bed he is lying on lies at the end of the apartment, next to what he assumes is the bathroom. He quickly makes note of an escape route and compartmentalizes it. He closes his eyes again, his head aching at the lights above. When he opens his eyes again there is suddenly someone in front of him. 

Grian jumps back and lets out a raw cry of pain as he shoves himself against the backboard. His fist springs forward, aiming directly for the person’s face. It only makes it halfway, suddenly stopping with a sharp screech of metal. His eyes snap to his wrist where there is a metal cuff connecting him to the bed frame.

“Void you scared me.” The person in front of him laughs, a hand to his chest, “You’ve got quick reflexes for someone who was halfway dead a few days ago.”

Grian supposes the man is trying to make a joke, but he doesn't find it humorous. His lips curl back in a snarl as he reaches for his knife. It’s gone though, and Grian belatedly remembers it’s probably still back at the alley.

He instead presses himself as far back as he can away from the man standing above him. He gives him a once over, his heart sinking the longer he looks.

The man is tall, much taller than Grian. He’s built well, muscles ripping beneath the skin of his arms. Oh, his arms. They’re lines with various scars. Some are small and cross each other, and others are huge and take up plenty of space themselves. His eyes follow the scars up to his face and see even more on his neck and chin.

They’re suddenly a second thought as he meets the man’s eyes. They are a blinding shade of green, seemingly twinkling despite the low light of the apartment. The two stare at each other for a second and Grian grinds his teeth together.

“Where am I?” His voice is hoarse from a long period of disuse, he clears it before speaking again. “Where did you take me?”

“Well we’re at my apartment.” The man’s voice is almost jovial. Grian’s eyes narrow as he can sense false bravado around the edges, “You must have a guardian angel because I happened to be passing just as you fell of a building.”

Grian tenses at the words, the memories of his fall returning to him. Suddenly the pain makes more sense and he only feels more uneasy. 

“Yeah right.” He snaps before he can even think.

The man frowns, but it is quickly replaced with a neutral expression. Grian’s jaw tightens as his attention returns to the cuffs keeping him attached to the bed. A wave of fear passes through him as he realizes he’s effectively trapped.

“Let me go.” He hisses.

The man chuckles as he steps closer to the bedside. Grian can’t place whether it’s threatening or amused. He reaches towards Grian who freezes in place. Inside he’s screaming to fight, but knows he can’t do anything. He can only lean back as the man pushes his hair from his forehead and places his hand there.

He struggles against the cuffs holding him to the bed as he waits for the hand to go to his throat and finish it. In his mind he knows he’s being irrational, but he can’t help it. The man’s fingers brush across his skin and he stands up straight with a satisfied smile.

“See I can’t let you go.” He muses. “Your first reaction was to punch me, and second was to reach for a weapon.”

Grian flushes as he realizes just how easily he was read. He thought he was better at hiding his intentions than that.

“Not to mention you’re still pretty injured and I doubt you could even stand now.”

Grian hates to admit it, but the man is right. He can clearly feel the pain each movement brings and knows he won't be able to even get out of this apartment. 

“So what’s the plan then?” Grian asks, “Turn me over to Doc and his boys? I saw the mark, I know what you are.”

Scar doesn’t have a break in his neutral expression. In fact his eyes almost light up, amused. He turns his arm, revealing the trademark tattoo. Goat horns. The raised skin of a scar distorts it, but it’s still recognizable.

“If I wanted to do that you would be at the Perimeter right now.” He says. “Not in my awesomely comfy kitted out apartment.”

“Why didn’t you?”

The question hangs in the air and the man doesn’t even look like he’s entertaining an answer. Instead he turns away, back to the kitchen.

“Do you want food?” He throws the question over his shoulder.

Grian wants to say no, but even the thought makes his stomach growl. He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, but it’s been at least a day. The sun is starting to set again. He doesn’t answer though. If the man doesn’t want to answer his questions then Grian can follow suit.

If there’s one thing he’s really good at, it’s being annoying. 

Still the man brings over a bowl to him. Steam wisps from whatever is in there and the scent of something savory makes Grian’s mouth water. He reaches out to grab it, but is once again reminded of the cuffs now cutting into his circulation.

“Sorry,” The man doesn’t sound sorry though. 

He instead feeds Grian who can’t help but feel embarrassed. He hadn’t been fed by someone else since he was a child, it was sort of degrading. Still, the soup is really good. There’s hints of mushroom and another flavor he can’t place. He finishes the whole bowl though, his stomach satisfied. 

The man quickly gets him to drink a cup of water and once again Grian is struck with how strange it is. The man makes eye contact as he finishes and puts the cup beside the bed. Grian’s eyes linger on it for only a second before returning to the man.

“Do I get to know your name at least?” He asked, his voice sounding much better after the water. “If I’m gonna be trapped here I’d rather not refer to you as warden or something like that.”

The man’s eyes sparkle at his words and a smile overtakes his face.

“But can you imagine how funny it would be if you did?” Grian’s forehead creases at the words.

He shakes his head adamantly no. “I can just stop talking at all then.”

The man grins at his words and folds his arms. The goat tattoo is more visible and Grian has to hold back a shudder at it. The man’s eyes follow his gaze and he quickly positions his arms so it can’t be seen.

“It’s Scar.” Grian looks up to a toothy grin. “Kind of ironic I know, but it’s not like my mother could tell the future.”

“Scar. Grian tests the name out. “Interesting.”

“Well now I need yours in return.” Scar’s brows are raised.

Grian feels conflicted for just a moment. If he reveals his name there’s a very real chance he could get sent to the Perimeter. He purses his lips as he thinks.

“My name’s Griba.” Scar nods at the lie. “And no judging because your name is also weird.”

Scar snickers and starts to pull away from the bedside. He returns to the kitchen and rinses out Grian’s bowl. Grian zeroes in on the glass cup and breathes out slowly. Now that he is fed and in a comfy bed he’s really feeling everything. His ribs ache and ankle is unrelenting. He tucks his head down to feel a bandage on his cheek.

He’s honestly just in shock that he’s alive at this point. He had fallen a few stories too many, he knew he should be gone. Somehow Scar had kept him from dying though. 

But he is one of Doc’s men, and Grian can’t risk it. He once again looks at the cup before focusing on Scar. 

“So what’s the plan?” He repeats. “I doubt you’d waste food if you were going to kill me.” 

Scar laughs and Grian notices how easy it is to get him to do so. The problem is that Grian can’t tell if it’s real or fake. He should be able to differentiate, but for some reason he can't read him at all. 

“I won’t kill you.” Scar barely turns to look back, “I’m just waiting until you heal up and then we’ll move out.”

Grian blinks as he processes the words. His voice cracks as he speaks. “We?”

“Yeah of course.” Scar wipes his hands on a towel and fully faces Grian, “I saved your life, and I have no current group. I thought we could stick together for a while.”

Grian struggles to keep his face devoid of any emotions as he subtly reaches for the cup. Once his fingers have grasped it there isn’t a second of hesitation. He moves to smash the glass against Scar’s head.

Scar is quick though, and his hand reaches up to stop it. The glass shatters on impact, cutting into the man’s palm. He doesn’t grimace, his eyes still locked onto Grian’s. Grian gasps at his failed attempt though, and Scar’s bloodied hand grabs Grian’s. It squeezes until Grian drops the rest of the shards he planned to use as a weapon.

There isn’t a single emotion that registers on Scar’s face except a slight twitch of his lip. He dusts the glass of his hands as he stands. 

“If you try that again I’ll have you sent straight to the Perimeter.” His voice is suddenly dark, more menacing than Grian had expected. 

He straightens up, but still doesn't feel apologetic. Instead he extends his middle finger, Scar chuckling at it.

“I promise there’s no other motives here.” Scar says as he tightly wraps his hand, “I assumed that my favor to you meant that you might help me out too.”

Grian’s mouth snapped shut as he actually thought about it. If he could convince Scar to follow him to his group he could trap him there, use him against Doc. It could be a viable option.

He stews in his thoughts for a moment as Scar watches him expectantly. When Grian finally decides a small smile settles on Scar’s face as if he knows what Grian is going to say.

“Fine.” Grian says, before spitting out the last words, “And I’m sorry for that,” He motions to the glass, “I’m a pretty paranoid person and I don't like being trapped.”

“Understandable,” Scar says sharply, “You can understand why you’re cuffed though right?”

“Yeah…”

Scar laughs and surprises Grian by producing a key. He unlocks the cuffs with a sigh and pats Grian’s red wrists. 

“Don't get any ideas though,” He warns, “I’m quicker than you might think.”

Grian nods as he massages his sore wrists. He no longer planned to attack him here. It was kind of an awful idea anyways. Grian doubts he can even stand, let alone make it back to the base. It’ll be easier to take Scar down with backup anyways.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he watches the man flit around the kitchen, humming various Christmas songs. Scar was definitely an interesting guy and Grian couldn’t reason him out.

[masschase]

Here's my OTP playlist again with full explanations of each song.

Bitch with a Keyboard, Asshole With a Gun: Matt and Casey's Journey

There is mention of nsfw stuff but I've kept it pretty vague tbh.

Wicked Game (Chris Isaak): I used the original of this because I already have a HIM song on this playlist. Still considering switching to the Stone Sour version. I know it's probably a cliché choice. But I felt like I needed a starter if this was going to be a cohesive journey. From Matt's side this reflects the fact Casey both spared his life and saved him from the simulation first. For Casey it represents that moment a couple of weeks into being on the ship when they've just had sex and they're just joking around together. She looks into his eyes and as I've said before, she sees a dangerous potential there and realises they just can't do this again. She has important world-saving shit to do and she can't just go falling in love with anyone. So she rambles out the rule about not sleeping with anyone on the ship more than once, and she sticks to it when more of her friends come aboard. Thing is, once those months have passed, everyone's like oh yeah, we all had that one time with the Boss, and doesn't think much of it. Matt is probably the only one who still thinks about that rule a lot, for obvious reasons. He has no idea he's the reason it exists.

Secretly (Skunk Anansie): This is really representative of the kind of mid-portion of their friendship before romantic feelings develop. When Matt in particular is trying his best *not* to be attracted to her (by the way the scene with him and Johnny regarding this is one of my favourite things ever ever ever I love their bond) but Casey keeps absent-mindedly telling him shit about how much she'd like to be pinned to the bed by a dirty talking Austen hero type and that sort of thing. 😅 Also kind of works from the opposite perspective. Matt wants to be with Asha so really he should be steering clear of Casey but he just... doesn't manage to. Honestly when I said a while ago I worry I portray Matt as a bit of a dick, it's this sort of thing I mean 😅

Dreaming Of You (The Coral): This could be an innocent enough song but thanks to Scrubs I associate it heavily with sex, plus with the kind of tempo it has... I tie it together with the feverish results of the interactions I mentioned in connection with the previous song. I don't know what the correct term is for "a captain and lieutenant listening to each other erm.... enjoying themselves through a wall and getting encouraged by each others noises" other than "inappropriate".

Right Here In My Arms (HIM): I really associate HIM with Matt; I feel like he has a bigass heartagram belt buckle hidden somewhere in his old flat, haha. Anyway, this is their friendship a little later on. "So hard she's trying, But her heart won't turn to stone" is very very Casey and this whole song is representative of the way she keeps returning to him despite the fact it's inadvertently leading to her falling for him.

Surrender (Billy Talent): I've said before how much the second verse reminds me of them "Even though I know what I'm looking for, She's got a brick wall behind her door, I'd travel time and confess to her, But I'm afraid she'd shoot the messenger.". It's very representative of both when Matt gets to the pining, unrequited (ok not really) love stage with Casey as well as the whole time travel plot and how that plays out. Also I just want to talk about the line "She wonders why I'm always in a good mood" because like... I constantly think about Casey thinking "Matt's secretly such a sweet funny guy, I wonder why not everyone sees it?" and it's like... he's comfortable around you my dude. He's happy and can be himself. His socially awkward has stopped socially awkwarding and that's why he doesn't need that egotistical facade.

Gunslinger (Avenged Sevenfold): for that period of time they are really missing each other during my fic. It was playing when they were bonding in Camden a year previously and Pierce complains that Casey starts listening to it over and over when Matt is gone. The bit that captures her is "I won't question why so many have died, My prayers have made it through yeah, 'Cause with all these things we do, It don't matter when I'm coming home to you."

Demolition Lovers (My Chemical Romance): This could really be placed higher or lower but it mostly makes me think of if Matt and the younger Casey really did go and do some "Bonnie and Clyde sorta shit" or really did run away together after the party. But it also makes me think of any situation of them running off and dying together. Which happens more often than you'd think.

Gone Too Soon (Simple Plan): Pretty much this whole album (Get Your Heart On) reminds me of the thing between 2022 Matt and 2016 Casey, and the band has links to both of their teen years in my hc. But this is the song they dance to and it has heavy foreshadowing for the next couple of chapters.

Last Dance (The Cure): It plays right after the previous song but they don't get to dance to it in 2016. That's really supposed to symbolise that this is not the end for them. But it sums up so much of the way I see Casey waiting nervously the night they finally get together, and they dance to it that night too. I've said this before but a lot of The Cure songs remind me of them.

Undisclosed Desires (Muse): This to me is very representative of their sexual relationship but also of the fact that even before they are together Matt begins to see more to Casey than the typical perception of her.

Running (No Doubt): This song is so them to me. The fact it's No Doubt makes me think of Casey, the fact it sounds like chiptune makes me think of Matt. The fact they do make this agreement that for the sake of their survival they will run instead of fighting when needed. Matt's surprise that she chose him of all people. Casey's fear that she'll fuck this up somehow. But the fact that they have each other through it all. I'd say it's between this and Last Dance for 'their' song, but I feel like this is the one that they'd think of as their song.

Deathbeds (Bring Me The Horizon): OK, admittedly, I have a load of songs on the longer playlist that could go here (I Will Follow You Into The Dark, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out etc.). But I feel like this one is a really good representative of that feeling of "I strongly believe we might end up dying together but I'm still never going to leave you.".

House on the Hill (The Pretty Reckless): It's a little more sombre than it should be for how I picture their future/endgame but nonetheless a lot of it relates. The way it starts with "Somewhere in the end of all this hate" relating to how they first crossed paths. The fact that what Matt manages to pull off more or less allows them to settle down by hiding/fading away, at least for a while. I'll eventually do a long post on what that entails for those who haven't read my fic but suffice to say it links back to themes from the first game of Aisha's name persisting through her music but her fake death protecting her. Nonetheless, the Saints are going to be forever and the next generation will inevitably get dragged in which is where "Until they drink the wine and they will, they will" comes into it.

Always (Killswitch Engage): I just wanted to end on a more optimistic note and sum up that although they are never going to *quite* have a traditional happily ever after, they will always have each other. Their love is eternal.

❤💜💙

[randomrabbidramblings]

Random speculation about "Rayman in The Phantom Show"

[A bit of story related theories from what we have at the moment. I only know Rayman's lore and abilities in a very superficial way, so if you know more about him and want to add something, feel free to!]

First of all: I find it strange the objective is just to fix Phantom's Space Opera Network's ratings… Will it make this a more open worlded Tower of Doooom? Nothing wrong with that, I'm just wondering if there will be more plot to this than we got told. How could Phantom possibly convince the Heroes to do such a thing after Kingdom Battle? And where would his expected song fit into the story? He seems like he's gone on the good side, so… no Rayman roast? Unless it's a friendly roast? I find Phantom's heel-face turn a bit odd.

[I'm very torn between hoping for him to betray the Heroes at the end and having him as a final boss, or actually having a friendly (or at least passive) Phantom. Both lead to a very fun time, lol. Evil Phantom thinking he got them all while Beep-0's like "I told you guys!" and nice Phantom trying (in vain) to convince the Heroes he's not a villain this time.]

The enemies seem to be all the kinds of Darkmess infested baddies we've already seen in Sparks of Hope and The Last Spark Hunter. They are called "supporting crew" by the narrator, so maybe the place isn't infested with them, unless it's all an excuse to hide the fact Phantom's show has disaster ratings because of them.

There are Darkmess eyes and puddles too, so looks like the DLC is set in between the previous adventures and Cursa is still around. Or Phantom somehow managed to get his hands on some of Cursa's minions, but this doesn't explain the Darkmess.

We can kind of piece together what's happening in this scene: seems like Phantom just made his entrance after the lift scene seen in the trailer (there's its staircase behind him) with Rabbid Peach and Rabbid Mario reacting accordingly. We can also get some info about the environment. It seems to be the entrance we already saw in the trailer. On the corners of the floor there are dirt mounds? Is that dust or sand? Is the building in a desert or just very dirty? In Phantom fashion, like the old theater in Spooky Trails, the place seems a bit run down with ripped wallpaper revealing bricks, torn curtains and glass on the floor. At this point I'm wondering if the problems with the Space Opera Network are due to the Darkmess infesting the place or to Phantom's... very poor understanding of "keeping the workspace free of hazards".

This is the lift Phantom is seen coming out from in the trailer. And of course it's one of the few things not damaged in some way. He has standards! I don't know what's with the green color theme for him instead of blue, but I like it! I imagine this lift connects the various sets we've seen. In this floor there seems to be some minor sets for different shows, like a cooking show with Alkementor, some kind of music show with DJ Cheep Tuna (no more stranded on Beacon Beach, Augie seems to have finally paid him, lol) and one with a red Spark. I think it's some kind of dating game? There are three hearts on the background screen and the floor has the shape of a pink letter.

Phantom in his intro scene and on the poster has three spotlights on him. Probably a callback to the ones that kept him invulnerable in each phases of his battle in Kingdom Battle or maybe they are hinting at another boss fight. Either way, he sure does seem like he's very afraid of ending up like last time with the spotlights following him even when he's inside the lift, lmao. It would be funny if he sometimes popped up in places where physically there shouldn't be any spotlights, but still lights shine on him for some unknown reason

Finally, I wonder if there will be Phantom's backstory portaits like we had with the Wardens. They could explain a lot of things, especially how and why he's apparently not evil anymore. I don't know how they managed a (supposedly) good guy Phantom, but I bet he's going to be very annoying (in a good way, lol) and a very insufferable boss to his crew. Reminds me of another insufferable, drama-causing Rabbid from Spooky Trails we've already encountered.

[blindrapture]

SATURDAY JUNE 25TH, 2011 (Liverpool)

8:31 AM Holy cock. I woke up in a hotel. I don’t remember anything from the past several days. I mean, I remember being in that city, and running from that.. giant screaming face. And then I went down an alley and.. Motherfucker. It was the slender man. It’s like motherfucking Marble Hornets Part 2. What the fuck.

8:32 AM I have no idea where Donnie is. ..I have no idea where I am.

8:35 AM There’s a safe in my room. I’m gonna try the code “1102.” ..no? Well, fuck. I’m all out of ideas.

8:40 AM Okay, there’s a connecting door to the next room, and I knocked on it, and go ahead and guess who was on the other side. If you guessed “Donnie,” you’re wrong. Well okay, fine, you’re right.

8:58 AM We have deduced that neither of us remembers anything about the past few days. This is a very bad thing. But we’ll make do. We’re gonna look around the hotel.

9:01 AM Elevator’s working, right. We’re on the seventh floor. Trying the ground floor.

9:02 AM The elevator stopped on the third floor. It won’t do anything now. The doors haven’t opened yet. Oh, there we go. They opened. It’s just a regular hotel hallway. Takes a left turn after about seven doors.

9:03 AM Donnie’s coughing a lot. This door is ajar.

9:04 AM That window shows nothing but bricks. Where the hell are we? HELLO SLENDY DONNIE RUN

9:05 AM running down the haaaaall oh look at that that’s not Donnie ..slendy’s gone. And so’s that other person. What.

9:06 AM So, uh.. that was an old woman. I saw her for a little bit, standing in the middle of the hall, but now she’s just gone, man! It’s true! Donnie’s still here. We’re looking for the exit now.

9:13 AM Staircase! Hey! Finally. Aaand slendy’s up there fuck that shit we’re going down.

9:14 AM Ground floor ho boy see ya slendy wouldn’t wanna be ya!

9:15 AM We’re out of the hotel. Where are we now, we’re in Liverpool, okay. HELLO, LIVERPUDLIANS! WE ARE THE BEATLES, AND WE’RE flying zombies eat guitar controller eat it in the FACE oh god the blood dgjssdgwothaWHOA YEAH, YOU’D BETTER RUN, FLYING ZOMBIES. YEAH, YOU’D BETTER FALL TO THE GROUND AS IF YOU’VE JUST BEEN SHOT. YEAH, YOU’D BETTER DIE EVEN THOUGH I DON’T HAVE A GUN. Yeah, we’d better run.

9:19 AM Oh hi there! These are other nice people! Real people! Not twisted or demented or zombies or anything like that! They’re people! It’s a family of four, specifically.

9:48 AM The father’s name is Richard, that much I know. Mother’s name is Meredith. Man, British people have stupid names. >_> Even though I am one. It’s still true. They have two sons, one of whom looks about.. early-twenties, his name’s Rogers, other son’s probably around seventeen, name’s Bill. Completely generic names. They’re staying at a nearby inn until the Exodus sets sail. Donnie asked if we could stay with them, and they said we’d have to ask the innkeeper. Fair enough.

11:03 AM This town is large. See, I didn’t know that. Because I’ve never been to Liverpool before. Apparently it's not even a town; it's a city? Wow! I'm impressed with you, England. More than one city? Good job! But anyway, we just found the inn. It’s pretty close to the harbour.

11:22 AM The innkeeper’s given us a room. It’s a nice room, yes. But the innkeeper told us to watch out for the Masked Massacrer who’s been spotted in the area. I’m gonna ask around about this.

12:39 PM I’ve asked a good few people around here about this “Masked Massacrer” guy, and I’ve gotten a few details. Masky is a— oh. Actually, that sums it up, right there. Masky. A man in a mask. The Liverpoolians have dubbed him the “Massacrer” because he’s killed a whopping six people. How terrifying. I’ve killed more people than that. ..though I probably don’t want to start telling people that. They say this guy’s mask is funny. It’s like a crudely-drawn Jesus mask. There’s a beard and a moustache and the long hair and everything. So.. we’re up against the Masked Messiah. Except he kills people. How are these guys sure it’s not just Cockroach Jesus? Actually, then again, I’m sure if it was a human-sized cockroach, they’d be able to tell. Either way, this is gonna be a long four days.

1:03 PM Donnie wants to “listen to some music.” …”in bed.” “Together.” I’m “looking forward to this,” journal. I’ll see you after the “show.”

1:34 PM ffff neighbours came in! Guess we forgot to lock the doors. They said there’s a big inn-wide meeting going on downstairs. And they said we can work on repopulating the human race when it’s just the two of us left. Great, now we just look like the guests who fuck a lot. We weren’t even fucking, just cuddling. D: (I.. wasn’t ready.)

2:00 PM That meeting was boring. It was basically a headcount and making sure everyone was going on the Exodus. Oh, and a curfew. Eight o’ clock sharp, as Masky tends to strike after that.

2:27 PM We went to the local supermarket and got some non-perishable foods. Yummy! There’s lots of flying zombies in the sky, but they don’t seem to want to bother us. I’m glad.

5:09 PM Someone’s knocking in our door. At least they had the courtesy to knock. >.>

5:13 PM It was Rogers. He has something he wants to show us.

5:17 PM Out of the inn.

5:29 PM This is a golf club. Rogers led us here to play golf?

5:33 PM That’s a rabbit hole. It’s a vending machine, but every slot is taken up by an eyeball that’s blinking and looking around and ugh. It’s at the end of a hallway. I can tell that this door right here’s a rabbit hole. Rogers looks.. is he expecting us to go in? “You know what this is, right?” Donnie said it’s a rabbit hole. Rogers laughed. “No, no, no. What’s this?” He’s pointing at the entrance. I said it’s a door. “That’s right. It is a door. Do you know what that means?” We don’t. “It means we’ve got the key to Rapture right here in front of us.” He’s leading us away from the door now. “You don’t want to go into that door. You don’t want to go into any door, but what’s tricky is that sometimes you run into a door that doesn’t even look a thing like a door.” For some reason, I’m reminded of that huge vault thing that the Vorke was resting behind. It looked like a door, though actually… “The Exodus... why do you want to go on the Exodus, guys?” Donnie says we’re meeting people in America. “Nah, that’s not why. C’mon, be honest. Why do you want to go on the Exodus? Actually, let me ask a better question. Why do you have to go?” Uh.. shit. I don’t really know. “Why do you have no choice?” We don’t have a choice? WAITWAITWAIT, it’s because England is theirs now. Like that graffiti said. Rogers is grinning madly. "Ah, but whose? England is whose?” Donnie said “The things.” And I said “Fear.” “Yes. Yes. England belongs to them now. Fear. YES, yes that’s completely right. No one ever knows that, but you guys are the first I’ve found who knew!” He takes a bit to calm down. We’re at a window now, facing out to the driving range. Zombies are out there. “I’ve heard rumours. About what caused this weird stuff.” I asked if he meant Rapture, and he shouted. “It’s not Rapture. At least, this isn’t. I knew that as soon as I heard the blind prophets. They go around saying ‘Rapture is coming.’ ‘Cause it is. Rapture’s coming. It’s not here yet. The fears know that too, which is why they’ve come out to play. They were always here, you know. The fears. They used to just occasionally reach out to get people, but now they’re going crazy. They’re killing people left and right. Some of ‘em even use us to kill people for ’em.” ..fuck. Like the Harlequin. His face lit up. “The wooden girl. Yes. She uses people, uses us. I haven’t heard of her lately, though. Which is odd. Actually, a lot of the fears are doing odd things lately. Some of them are killing more than usual, but one thing’s certain: they’re claiming England for good now.” asdfgh oh, that was just Donnie grabbing my shirt, since my hands are occupied. “Do you know anything about the wooden girl? Why she’s gone quiet lately?” I looked at Donnie. She nodded at me. “It’s.. well, I subdued her, I guess you could say.” Rogers looked at me for a bit. Then he laughed. “But the wooden girl’s a fear. She can’t be subdued just like that. I’d be surprised if she could be subdued at all. I think she’s planning something. I dunno. Doctor Cloud, too. I hear nothing but trouble about what he found in JESUS IT’S THE MASKED MASSACRER HE KILLED ROGERS he’s gone. But. ._.

10:42 PM We’re gonna go to bed.

11:00 PM Rapture is coming.

(Attached: "The blind prophets are more of a continental Europe thing. Around the turn of the apocalypse, some Austrians woke up to find they were completely blind, and they all heard a voice telling them to go as far as they can around the world and spread the message that Rapture's coming. Lots of countries got this kind of thing, though only the Austrians were blind. Japan got long-haired girls, I guess to play on that cultural fear? Who can really say the logic behind all this? The point is, every prophet says it all started with a voice on May 21st, a disembodied voice that only some people could hear. This is only one of the many arbitrary things about the end of the world.")

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[armpirate]

UNDER YOUR SKIN || JJK || Ch. 31

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I know what he's doing when I wake up and I see him serving our breakfast on my tiny kitchen table, wearing nothing but his baggy jeans. While he's pouring the juice on one of the two glasses, I pay attention to the way the muscles in his arm tense while holding the juice brick. The colorful designs only make me want to slide my fingers over it. Not happy with that, he also collected his hair in a messy tail -knowing how down I am for those.

I know perfectly what he's trying to do. He smirks as soon as he's aware of how it's working against me.

He's such an asshole for this.

—Good morning, cocktease —he finally greets with a smile on his face—. Slept well?

—Great —he sits on the chair, hearing my answer while giving me a funny look—. What about you?

—I would've slept better with you, but you sent me to the couch like a dog —he puckers his lips—. It's alright though.

Jungkook brushes his bangs off his face, throwing them back, although they eventually fall back to the same place anyway. I know his hair wasn't bothering him at all.

He wants to play this game, then fine, we'll play this game.

—You could've gone home —I shrug.

I spread the strawberry jam over the toast, accidentally slipping some on the crusty border. I almost don't care, until I see the chance to tease him when I catch him with his big eyes on me. I take it away with my finger, just to taste it directly from my finger, sucking it slowly before I let it go with a popping sound.

I try to act as normal as possible after that, just to find his eyes being squinted at me while he plays with his lip ring.

—Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do.

—What am I trying to do? —I ask innocently, biting on my toast.

—You're punishing me.

Says the person without a t-shirt on.

—Stop being so self-centered. I'm just having breakfast.

—So you're not trying to make me hard?

—If I wanted to make you hard —I move my feet over his shinbone, sliding it up slowly—, I'd do this —I purr, stopping when I reach his mid thigh.

—You're being so unfair.

—I thought you said you'd be able to take it? —I bite on my toast again, slightly moving my feet further.

—Yeah, but you're playing dirty.

—I didn't do anything.

After saying that, I move my feet again, but I only get to reach his crotch for a fast second before he makes the chair legs make a loud sound as he drags it as far as he can from my reach. Jungkook gives me a warning look, but knows it'll be useless when his eyes connect with mine and he's able to decipher my intentions.

He knows that warning look won't change a thing.

—You won't finish your breakfast? —I ask, as I see him putting his t-shirt on.

—We both know that if I stay here longer, breakfast won't be what I end up eating.

Jungkook returns to the table, but only squats in front of me. His eye smile must be one of the best, because I don't get how his lips are barely curving, yet his eyes are radiating light. His thumb moves over my lower lip, taking away some crumbs or jam -that he licks from his fingertip so casually, without breaking eye contact, that my mouth goes dry faster than I can even process what happened.

—I also have to open the studio, and you need to get ready for the interview —he pinches my chin with two of his fingers.

He stands up easily, he lands a short kiss on my forehead, just to bend over again to the side and grab a bite of my toast. As he waves goodbye for the second time, I don't want him to leave. I wish he could stay a little longer.

I don't take long to start getting ready. I put on my best outfit, trying to look the most elegant and serious I can, but I just look like someone who's just got out of a costume party. Nothing worked. Not the pantsuit -and its several combinations with other clothing-, not the over-the-knee tight skirt, not the lawyer navy dress.

This is ridiculous.

I just put on a pair of jeans, and one of the blouses I tried to combine with the pantsuit and the skirt. That should work for me.

I've been so anxious about the whole thing, that I'm not aware how early I left my home until I find myself standing in front of the -obviously- closed gallery.

Asshole: Good luck today!

Asshole: Don't be late

Me: That won't be a problem

As I say that, I take a pic of the entrance of the establishment. I know Jungkook is laughing his ass off as soon as he sees the pic, and he confirms it when he sends me a GIF of a person spilling her drink out of her mouth. I mean, it's not a reaction I wouldn't expect. I'm not laughing because I'm the one in this situation, but if it had been him or Tam, I'd be cackling right now.

After two minutes, he sends me a pic of him at the studio. He's posing in front of the mirror, pouting to make his lip ring completely visible.

Me: I like the beanie

Asshole: Just the beanie?

Asshole: What about what's under it?

Me: Your hair? I can't see it

I see him typing something and send in something, but I barely have time to read what he sent before someone gets my attention. When I look up, Jin is giving me a tiny smile, looking confused as to what I'm doing here thirty minutes earlier.

—I thought we had the interview at eleven.

—Yeah, I'm just a bit earlier —I answer nervously.

—You could've called me. I would've come earlier, too —he mentions, concerned over the fact that I've been waiting for him.

—Oh my god. Of course not —I shake my head—. I haven't been here for so long either.

Jin takes a set of keys out of his wasted jeans, and opens up the door for me, waving his hand so I go in first. He allows me to look around the gallery, calming my curiosity by checking some of the contemporary art displayed here.

—Did you bring the resume?

—Yup —I hand him the transparent folder—, although there isn't much to see in it.

After being rejected so many times, I know how important it is to be honest and real to myself. It'll save us time and energy.

—What happened to your hand? —he asks when he notices the bandage going from my knuckles to my wrist.

—Long story —I chuckle.

Jin reads through the resume, but closes it quite fast, placing his eyes back on me.

—So, since there isn't much to see in your resume, why don't you tell me what I need to know?

I turn to him, catching him with both of his hands on his back, while he walks to me calmly. He isn't smiling, but I still can't catch a glimpse of seriousness on his face. He's just relaxed.

—I have no experience in this field, I've been rejected left and right ever since I graduated four years ago —I might regret saying all of this in a few minutes—. Magazines, design companies, marketing teams... all showed me the door because I lack experience —tilting my head, I continue—. But here's the thing, I wasn't good at preparing cocktails, I wasn't good at dealing with customers, yet I made a big effort to give my best in all my jobs. Experience is important, sure. But so is motivation and flexibility.

—I agree —he nods, standing next to me—. I think honesty is really important, too. And you have it.

—Probably because I've gone through too many useless questions that end up nowhere —I nervously laugh.

—My previous art dealer didn't finish his degree on graphic design —he mentions—. Yet he applied, and got away with it because he showed passion and desire to work on this —he gives me a tiny smile, before turning to the drawing in front of us—. What do you think of this?

I look at it as well, paying attention to the three figures on the canvas. The one in between is more blurred, while the other two are crystal clear -one of them painted with brighter colors than the other.

—I think it represents the three views of the artist —I start—. The most colorful one being the image everyone has of him, and also being the one he wants to give more potential to. The darker one being the vision he has of himself, and that he hates —I point to the one in the middle—. And the blurred one being the reality, the real image no one, not even the own artist, seems to want to acknowledge.

—Impressive —he simply says.

Not really.

—Why should I buy it?

—I think it'll look good with that fancy white leather couch in your living room, and your ninety inches long TV —I joke—. Someone driven by art won't ask why they should buy it, they'll relate to the concept and choose whether they want it to be attached to their day to day or not —I simply shrug, driving the conversation back to its serious route.

He curves his lips down as he nods, smiling at my words. He hands me back the transparent folder with my resume in it.

—The salary will be forty grand per year, plus commissions —he mentions it as if it weren't as serious—. Will you be able to make it to the 12th of next week?

Does that mean what I think it does?

—But come here a day before to sign the contract, at eleven —he turns to me, raising his eyebrows as an attempt to get a response from me—. Y/n?

He's barely able to pronounce my full name before I wrap my arms around him, and shout a loud "Yes!". It's not until I don't feel any kind of reciprocation that I realize what I'm doing. I step back fast, stretching his hand effusively.

—I promise you won't regret this, Jin .

—I know —he nods—. I'll need your email to send you all the information necessary to write the contract. Please, send it as soon as possible.

✸ ✸ ✸

—Cheers! —Melanie shouts, holding her shot up high.

—Cheers! —the rest of us scream.

Just like I promised Tammy, I invite them all to a round of shots. Even if it's in the bar, and not the fancy club I would've wanted to go to.

—Sorry about yesterday —I mention—. I left you here with everything that was going on.

—You were literally bleeding —she smacks my side—. Don't be dumb, and just enjoy your moment.

—How's your hand doing by the way? —Soo asks, pointed at the bandage.

—It hurts, but I guess it's okay —I shrug—. The doctor said I shouldn't do extreme moves until it heals. I'll have the stitches for a few days though.

—Yet here you are —Tammy scolds me.

—Sorry for having to pay my bills —I pretend to be offended—. Also Jim asked me to come these two days until he finds someone else. So probably by tomorrow he'll be hiring someone new.

I see Tammy pouting, before she wraps her arms around my neck, forcing me to bend over her body and hide my face on his neck -and hair.

—I'm gonna miss you a lot.

—You're acting as if we weren't going to see each other ever again.

—But it won't be the same —he squeezes my body.

I wish I were exaggerating, but the rest of the shift went on like this -even after Melanie and Soo left. I know she's happy for me, I know she's excited, but it'll be a big change. We're so used to seeing each other almost every day, that it'll be weird to be apart and work in different places.

Once it's over, I convince her to leave first by saying I'll pick up what's left by myself. Tammy insists on helping me, but she ends up giving in when I tell her I wanted to make up for what happened last night.

The truth though...

Jungkook sent me a text while I was with the girls, and said he'd come to pick me up when I'm done with my shift. We kept arguing back and forth. For nothing, because as usual I ended up giving in. Not that I'm extremely bothered either, because just today I saw the stars more than once on my way to the gallery, because I kept hitting things and people on the bus.

Maybe I shouldn't have told him that.

My mental rant gets interrupted when a pair of hands cover my eyes, and my first reaction after what happened yesterday is to move my elbow back and hit the person with it.

—Shit, cocktease —his voice sounds drowned.

—Oh my god, sorry —I turn to him—. I thought it was someone else.

—I told you I was coming to pick you up, who else would be coming here?

—Anyone? The door was open.

I move my hands over his bent over body, unsure of where to touch to comfort him. I finally land them on his back, moving my palm up and down over his jacket while I wait for him to recover.

—I'm sorry —I genuinely apologize.

—You should kiss it better if you really are —he finally lifts his head, showing me a funny smile.

—Asshole —I hit his arm when he's fully back at the same height as me.

—I was kidding —Jungkook grimaces—, not really. Do you have something else to do here?

—Just moving those boxes to the backstore —I point to the boxes of beer near the door.

Jungkook doesn't even let me finish before he's walking towards the boxes, to pick them up and place them where I told him. When he's back, he only finds me with my arms crossed over my chest.

—I could've done that.

—Oh right, I forgot The Rock almost broke my ribs five minutes ago —he mocks me.

I chuckle when he says that, picking up my things behind the counter so we can both leave. And it's all going good, I'm mentally prepared to avoid the pain in the palm of my hand when I grab him. But he hops on the motorbike in a way I can't understand, because he's sitting where I should be sitting. His palm claps over the leather seat, so I take the only place that's free.

—This is an awful idea —I warn him as I walk to him.

—Just trust me.

I hop on the motorbike, being for the first time so near the handlebar that it's making me dizzy. I feel my hair being moved to the side, and through the rear view mirror I can see him smirk when he's aware of how my back arches slightly to his touch. His hands move over my thighs, his fingers digging dangerously in my inner thighs, just to move to my hips and drag my body over the seat as close to the gas tank as possible.

The way his hands felt on my thighs, the slight friction of the seat on my core and now feeling his body totally against me is making my heart race. I'm totally caged between the gas tank and his body right now.

I hold my breath as I feel him moving on my back, picking up my legs by my calves, just to place my feet on the mudguard.

—Legs here, and —he takes my wrists, careful not to hurt my left hand even more— hands here —he places them on the gas tank.

—This is the shittiest idea you've ever had —I remind him.

But he doesn't care. He just adjusts himself closer to me, if possible, with his chin resting on my shoulder -to the point that I can feel his breathing on my cheek and can perfectly see part of his face through the corner of my eye, including that smirk of his- and places his hands on the handlebar.

—Don't move —he starts the engine—, can you do that for me?

I nod slowly, gulping the thick knot of spit that formed in my throat. I know he wants us to get killed somehow, he just isn't telling me.

I'm scared when he gets on the road, I feel so close to having a heart attack as the motorbike starts speeding -even if Jungkook isn't going as fast as he usually does because he wants to be careful with me. The feeling that I'm not holding on to anything, even if my body isn't really able to move an inch by the way Jungkook is positioned, is what scared me the most. I'm not having the slightest of control, not even to hold myself onto something in case something happens. It's all on him.

But slowly the summer breeze hits my face directly, making my hair wave, the sensation of almost being the one driving this, combined with his calming heart pumping on my back... Maybe it wasn't that bad of an idea.

I can't believe I'm even slightly upset when I see us getting closer to my building.

Although neither of us moves an inch, not even when Jungkook has already stopped the engine and set the stand. His breath is burning my right cheek, and it's making me lose any trace of sanity left.

I turn my head to him, taken aback by how close he actually is. We both know I should hop off, but we don't move. Right now it's like we're fighting, and the one who kisses the other first loses.

His hand rests on my thigh, and I'm so close to be the one to lose that I would have if he hadn't opened his mouth.

—Good night, cocktease —he teases me.

His voice makes me blink back to reality, moving my face away and hopping off the bike, just to be stopped by his hand on my wrist.

—I'll pick you up tomorrow to take you to work.

—It's not necessary —I shake my hands in the air—. It'll be just one more day.

—That's why I'll pick you up tomorrow —he smiles without showing his teeth—. Imagine if you fall on the bus or get hit, and your stitches open up —he shakes his head—. I'll take you to work.

—You're impossible —I sigh.

I turn on my feet, just to start walking to my building, but his voice interrupts me after two steps.

—There's no good night kiss?

—Nope.

—Come on —he says a bit louder.

Turning on my feet again is the big mistake I make, because how am I supposed to resist him when he's pouting at me like that?

He smiles wide when I start walking to him again, lips almost ready to get what he was asking for, but he frowns and looks disappointed when I give him a kiss on his cheek instead.

—Seriously?

—For now, yes —I smile at him.

—Y/n, you can't be serious.

—Good night, Kook —I say, as I start walking away from him.

I turn one last time to Jungkook, just to find him still waiting for me to get inside. I wave my hand at him, after fighting with the door -as usual-, with a big smile, just to get a smile and his head shaking in response.