#ray (chaos code)

[disabled-battlekukku]

No hate against the artist but uugggghhhh shit like this make me so tired

[bison2winquote]

Ray, Chaos Code: New Sign of Catastrophe (FK Digital)

[quickestgold]

Dr. Abbot / The Pitt

Resident!reader has a crush on Dr. Abbot, but never acts on it because they work so well together and he's never given her any firm indication that he likes more than as his favourite resident. But every so often the praise he'll give is just on the edge of being unprofessional without crossing that line...so she decides to go for it and he rejects her. Before they can speak again she's in a car accident and is brought into the pitt and he goes *feral*. Bonus points if he breaks down and admits his feelings when he thinks she can't hear him because she's so out of it, but she remembers everything. Extra bonus points if he thinks she's going to die at any point. ALL the bonus points if there's a spicy ending....or spicy anything.

Say It First: Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Synopsis: Jack has grown used to the emptiness in his heart, a quiet companion that has kept him safe for too long. But when you finally speak your truth, he realizes the hardest battles aren’t fought on the field or in the chaos of the ER, but in the silence between two hearts longing for each other.

Warnings: Canon-typical depictions of trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, rejection, mentions of drunk driving, death, car accidents, reader is injured

Word count: 3.6k

A/n: Thanks for sending this in!! I got so many requests and I’ll try to work through them, but a) this was the first and b) this may or may not be inspired by real events (minus the accident) lmfaooo yikes good times…. Also, no spicy ending, because of, well, where I've ended it, but a bit of flavor sprinkled in... this is soo long / slow burn sorry, pls lmk what you think <3

Thirty-six years old. A mother of two. Only trying to get home. Gone. In the blink of an eye. All because one man chose to get behind the wheel after a night out.

You spent the last hour coding the woman, the air thick and heavy with grief. After taking a minute to honor her life, your feet carry you instinctively towards the roof.

The first rays of the morning sun gently kiss your face and the weight on your chest begins to lift, if only slightly. Your shoulders drop slowly with each cleansing breath, as you release the night’s tragedy into the vastness of the world below.

Your eyes meet a familiar silhouette standing behind the railing. As always, a little too close to the edge.

"What are you doing here?" Jack turns around, his features softening at the sight of you.

"Can a girl not enjoy a beautiful sunrise in peace?" you counter playfully.

That's a lie. You were looking for him. You always find him here.

"Heard you had a rough one", his tone full of sympathy, or just understanding.

A flicker of pain flashes across your face and without missing a beat, Jack steps back, moving to stand beside you, just behind the railing. His hand rests on your shoulder, warm and reassuring, the lightest of squeezes grounding you.

Your jaw tightens. "She had groceries and toys in the back of her car." With a deep sigh, "Her kids... are still waiting for her to come home."

He lets your words hang there, giving you time to process the loss. "You want me to talk to them with you?"

You wonder when Jack started being so soft with you. You think back to your early days in residency. Your first impression of him was that of a broken, stone-cold man. A soldier, hardened by years of seeing too much, too many lives lost. He used to move through the halls like a ghost, never letting anyone get too close.

But somehow, at some point, he let you in. At least you think so.

You shake your head, desperate to change the subject. "What are you doing up here?

A hint of a smile creeps in. It's faint, but it's there. "Just thinking..."

"...About?"

"Nosy as ever..." Jack's smile grows a little. "Life. Death. Everything in between..."

You press on, "Well, if you're ready to rejoin the living, a few of us are heading to the new pub down the road. The owner was a patient of mine. So, free drinks for me and my friends!"

"I don't have friends here."

You roll your eyes. Hard.

"What am I then?"

"One of my best residents?"

You lean in, whispering, “I'm your favorite though, right?”

Jack huffs a quiet laugh, a small shake of his head. He’s aware of the irony, of course.

He hasn't really been playing favorites, not consciously anyway. But lately, you've been getting extra attention from Dr. Abbot. More lessons. More opportunities. More praise.

But between the nepo babies and the kid geniuses in this hospital, you figure you deserve a little favoritism.

And you are grateful. Jack is a great teacher. He knows when to step back and he takes the time to teach when you're out of your depth. Believes in you, even when you don't.

The bar is buzzing with noise. You stand there, waiting for the free drinks, watching the crowd. Jack is sat on a stool in the corner, like he's part of the furniture, his eyes scanning the exits. Always on guard, even here.

Most of the team is clustered together, laughter and chatter in the air like a cocktail of relief and friendship. Glasses clink with a sound of shared thanks.

Robby and Heather slip to the other side of the room, their conversation low and intense, the tension between them palpable.

You wonder if people notice a similar air between you and Jack. Your shifts have somehow magically aligned lately.

Princess and Perlah, no doubt, have been talking. The boys, likely betting on who’s going to admit it first.

Dana steps closer, voice barely above a whisper, "Can't believe you've managed to get our sad boy to come."

Your eyes widen, but she doesn't let you object "He never does. Believe me, we've all tried. Nothing. Not even for Robby. And they're... friends."

You can’t help but laugh, "He doesn't have friends."

Dana shoots you a look. "So I've heard."

The bartender hands you two beers, a welcome interruption. You flash Dana a warm smile, before slipping away towards your table, feeling the weight of her gaze still on you.

You hand Jack one of the bottles, without looking, it's almost automatic. Natural. If people saw you on the street, they'd probably assume you were more than just colleagues.

You slide onto your stool, leaning in closer to Jack. "Dana's a little hurt that you've never gone out with them before. Not even for Robby!" You laugh, taking a big gulp of your beer.

Jack smirks, "I told you, I don't do favorites." He's satisfied by the loud laugh he gets from you.

The hours pass by, the noise of the bar blending into the background as you and Jack stay in your own quiet bubble.

Your stools have shifted closer, your knees just barely brushing. You glance down, surprised to find Jack’s hand resting on your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the fabric of your jeans. It’s almost too gentle, too careful, like he’s testing a line neither of you wants to cross but can’t help but feel drawn to.

Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes glazed, laughter still filling the air. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way Jack’s presence calms you, but it’s been a long time since you’ve felt this alive.

Have the rest of the team even noticed? Are they still here?

You’ve had a bit to drink, maybe more than a bit and as you push yourself up from the stool to head towards the restroom, a dizzy spell hits you.

For a split second, you’re sure you’re about to face-plant into the cold wall next to you, but then Jack’s there. His hand steadies you, pulling you against him with a surprising gentleness.

You remain in his grip, your body melting at the contact. His breath is uneven, but it’s probably from the shock of almost seeing you fall. Unless...?

You look up into his eyes and for a fleeting second, there’s something there.

A spark.

Something electric that makes your heart skip. And before you can stop yourself, you want to close the distance between you, feel his lips against yours.

But Jack pulls away, his movements soft and almost apologetic as he helps you stand with a shy smile.

You return the smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you step away, heading towards the restroom.

Once you're out of sight, he turns to see Dana glancing at him across the room. Before he can protest, you’re back, gathering both your jackets, moving with the same confidence you always have. "Wanna walk me home?"

Jack's eyes widen at the bluntness. He freezes for just a moment, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he nods.

"Yeah. I’ll walk you home."

You both head for the door, only to find that the team are, in fact, all still there. And now they're staring.

Watching you leave with Dr. Jack Abbot.

The ER buzzes with its usual chaos, patients rolling in, monitors beeping and the staff moving in sync. But today, there's something else in the air that you can't quite put your finger on.

You’ve just finished treating a patient, now sitting at a computer at the nurses' station, neatly typing up your notes.

You feel everyone's eyes on you.

Today, they are definitely talking.

You glance up and spot Jack across the room. He’s looking at you already, his expression unreadable. Something about his gaze feels different. A little too focused. A little too intense.

He walks over, reaching across you to grab a chart. His hand briefly brushes against yours as he leans in slightly, too close for a colleague, but not quite crossing the line.

You blink, trying to focus on the patient notes in front of you, but the words suddenly feel distant.

It’s impossible not to notice the way the team is starting to gather in their little huddles, whispering, eyes darting in your direction.

He stands close enough now that you feel his warmth. The line between professional and personal blurs and for a brief, dangerous moment, you’re not sure where the boundaries lie.

"You’re a natural," he says, his eyes meet yours and the intensity is enough to make your heart stutter. "Well done."

Jack continues, his voice lower now, just loud enough for you to hear, but not to be overheard by anyone else "You should be proud."

Before you can reply, a sudden voice cuts through the moment. It’s Robby, walking past with a glance over his shoulder, a knowing look in his eyes. “Hey, Jack,” he calls out casually. “Save some of the praise for the rest of us, yeah?”

Jack’s gaze flicks toward Robby, "You know, I don’t do favorites."

But something has changed and it’s too late to pretend otherwise.

You suddenly stand, confidently grabbing Jack's arm and pulling him to one side. He is surprised, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, but he follows you without a word.

You look up at him, “Listen, I know we’re not exactly friends.” You pause, your eyes meeting his, willing him to understand what you’re trying to say. “But you’ve been working a hell of a lot of shifts lately. And… I thought maybe we could grab dinner sometime?”

You watch Jack's lips twitch ever so slightly, but he composes himself quickly.

He doesn't say anything for a long beat.

Did you cross a line?

“I mean”, you add, “You know, to talk about cases or whatever. You don’t always have to eat in the break room. And I’m sure you’re tired of hospital food.” You give him a smile, warm and genuine.

For a second, you think he might decline. You feel your pulse race just a little faster.

But then he returns your smile, "Sure. Dinner sounds good."

You sit across from Jack in a dimly lit restaurant, the glow of the candlelight casting soft shadows on his face. The flicker of the flame reflects warmth onto his dimples.

It feels intimate, like you’re seeing a side of him that’s been hidden for too long, even from himself.

"Fuck me", you mutter, sinking into your chair, hiding from someone across the room.

"Excuse me?" Jack's voice is surprised, with a hint of something else.

If you weren't so uncomfortable, the shocked look on Jack's face would have made you laugh.

“Don’t look,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “But the guy over there… he broke my heart in med school.”

Jack’s gaze flicks to the man in question, but it's so obvious that it makes you flush.

He turns back to you, leaning in, "Want me to rough him up? Just a bit?"

You giggle, "Please don't, we weren't that serious anyway. But he did cheat on me. And at the time, it hurt."

Something dark flickers in his eyes.

"He's a prick", he spews, voice low and sharp.

"Why do I always get the assholes? I think I'll just give up", you laugh.

He hesitates for a moment, but the words leave his lips before he can stop himself.

"Why are you single?" His voice holds genuine surprise.

"Since when are you interested in my love life, Dr. Abbot?"

Or lack thereof.

He doesn't respond. You contemplate for a moment. Is he really this clueless?

"Why do you think?" You question, like a challenge.

"I don't know", his brows furrow. "I think - you like being independent. You're not looking for a man to complete you." He ponders, "And I also think you find dating distracting."

The way he reads you, so honestly, so accurately, hits you in ways you weren’t prepared for. You drop your mouth slightly.

How can he be so spot on and so wrong at the same time?

"What do I know. Maybe you just haven't met the right guy", he adds, trying to ease the awkward tension that’s settled between you.

Or maybe the right guy just doesn't know how to connect the dots!

"What about you then?" You try to shift the conversation.

"What about me?" He laughs.

You shoot him a look.

"Why am I single?", he asks most innocently. "What if I'm not?" You roll your eyes.

"We'll then what are you doing here with me and not making love to your gorgeous girlfriend... or boyfriend?" You add the last part with a smirk that feels more daring than you expected. He can't place it, but this new energy awakens something inside him.

His eyes flicker to your lips, but there’s a hesitation. The air is electric, you can almost feel the wall between you crumbling.

But his face grows serious. "It's just easier like this."

"Since when are you one to take the easy road?" You counter, your voice sharp.

It's now or never.

You search his eyes, willing him to say it first.

Anything.

But he doesn't. You break eye contact and he feels like he just lost something he didn't know he could have. Didn't know he deserved.

You exhale deeply, the words finally escaping you, "You know I have feelings for you, right?".

The confession slips out, barely louder than a whisper, as if you’re terrified of hearing it yourself.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

A flicker of vulnerability crosses his face, but it disappears just as quickly. His stoic exterior is intact, but something has cracked. His gaze remains unreadable, like his brain can't comprehend what you just said.

You wonder if you should take it back, pretend it never happened. Maybe you're lucky and he really didn't hear you.

You're not.

Before you can retreat, Jack beats you to it. "Y/N..."

Oh no.

"I'm so flattered...I- Thank you." His words are slow, measured, as if he's trying to find the right ones. "I- I didn't know you felt this way."

What, the excessive flirting and the obsessive need to be near him didn't give it away?

"Ouch. I suppose you don't feel the same", you laugh nervously.

There's that look again. Like he sees right through you. Like he's already seen every part of you. Touched every inch of your body, without ever having seen you naked.

"What do you want with an old man like me anyway?" His voice thick with uncertainty.

Hello? Is that a no?

It stings, but you fight to keep your composure. “You’re not that old", you tease, but the effort feels hollow in the face of his hesitance.

"It wouldn't end well...", his voice quieter now. "I don't want to hurt you."

"God, if you don't have feelings for me just say so. We're adults. This will they/won't they game is really messing with my head!"

"I'm sorry" he says, the words soft but final. "I can't."

You have your answer.

You've been through too much uncertainty. Always hoping for more. Always confused. It's too much hurt. Too much heartbreak. So you accept his decision.

And know you'll move on.

Your evening has come to an unexpected end. He slips your jacket over your shoulders with that same careful attention, the way he’s always done, because, of course, he’s the perfect gentleman, even after this brutal rejection.

You know it'll take some time to heal, which feels silly, because nothing really happened!

But in your mind, you're already preparing to switch shifts, changing your routine, so your schedules will no longer align.

Jack insists on walking you to your bus stop, his steps matching yours in a slow, rhythmic silence. And in that moment, a wave of sadness overcomes you. You feel like you're not just losing a friend, but also your mentor. Your eyes well up, praying he doesn't see. But he does, of course.

He always does.

You're ready to say goodbye, to the night, but also to what could have been.

When you reach the stop, he unexpectedly pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. One of his hands presses gently against your back, while the other holds your head against his heart, each beat a reminder of what it feels like to be alive, to be loved.

For a brief moment, as you breathe in his familiar scent, you only exist in the present.

In his arms.

The weight of your future and present not threatening to pull you under.

But then reality hits you.

You step back, slowly, as if leaving a piece of yourself behind in the safety of his embrace.

You turn around and walk away. You know he's watching, but you don't look back.

Jack has barely seen you this week, your shifts conveniently ending when his start and vice versa.

He can't help but feel like he's lost something good, not even giving it a chance to become something great.

He's on his way to the hospital for yet another shift without you, his mind wandering back to the moment he watched you walk away.

When he let you go.

When all he really wanted was to let you in. To have his lips touch yours. To interlock your fingers with his. To take you on a real date. To take you bake to his place...

To watch the bus drive off without you.

But you said it first. And he said nothing at all.

The air is different today, charged, the nurses a little quieter, the doctors a little more tense.

Jack looks around, he realises something isn’t right. The staff are huddled in groups, whispering.

Is the hospital finally closing down?

He has a bad feeling about this.

He notices Dana first. She's standing by the nurses' station. When she catches his gaze, her eyes flicker with something Jack can’t quite place. Concern? Worry? He’s about to walk over to her when Robby appears out of nowhere, stepping right into his path.

“Jack”, Robby says, his voice low. There’s a weight in his tone, a hesitation that only deepens Jack’s unease.

“What's going on?” Jack asks, his brow furrowing, but Robby doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, Robby pulls him aside, out of earshot of the others.

The words “drunk driver” and “Y/N” are enough to send a cold shiver down Jack's spine.

Jack's hands tremble as he heads straight for your room, but everything feels distant, muffled.

He’s flooded with guilt for not being there, for not having checked on you, for all the unsaid words between you.

Christ, he's a doctor and he wasn't there to help you.

More importantly, he was your friend and he let you believe that he wasn't.

Maybe, deep down, he knew he wanted to be more than that.

Now, there you are, lying still, tubes and wires everywhere.

He takes a shaky step forward, his hand hovering near yours. The thought of touching you, of being this close and you not being aware, makes his chest tighten. But he can’t help it. His fingers brush against your skin, a fragile connection.

“I didn’t- God, I was an idiot. I should’ve… said it. Should’ve been… with you. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. I-” His voice breaks and he curses under his breath.

He doesn’t know if you can hear him.

If you’ll ever hear him again.

Jack takes a seat next to your bed, drowning in fear for you. Broken. Guilty. Devastated. Alone.

“I’m so sorry", a quiet sob escapes his lips. "I've grown so used to the emptiness in my heart, I didn't know how to let you in..." It's in this moment, he realizes he’s terrified of losing you without ever having truly had you.

For the next couple of days Jack watches your chest rise and fall in a steady, artificial rhythm, but you don't move.

He loses a fraction of hope with every day that passes, waiting for you to wake up, for you to roll your eyes and tell him to stop being an idiot.

Your friends and colleagues check in on you as much as they do on him.

But the silence stretches on.

Robby often lingers in the doorway, exchanging quiet, knowing glances with Jack before he leaves, like there’s nothing else to say or do.

On the seventh day, Jack finds himself sitting beside your bed long after his shift has ended. His hand rests on the edge of your mattress, close enough to feel the warmth of your skin, but still too far away.

"I’m sorry”, he mutters, knowing you can’t hear him. His eyes flicker to the machines keeping you tethered to this world, his heart feeling too heavy to bear.

His body stiffens when he suddenly sees your fingers twitching ever so slightly. Then, a shallow inhale, before your eyes flutter open.

Jack watches you look up at the ceiling, disoriented. Then, slowly, your gaze moves to him.

"Jack?" Your voice is hoarse.

He leans forward, the weight of the last few days catching up with him. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I’m here Y/N."

You blink a few times, before the corners of your mouth turn into a smile. Though it’s small and fragile. “I thought you didn’t have favorites?”

For a second, he isn’t sure he heard you right.

His heart aches, raw and exposed and he knows he can't hide his feelings anymore.

You know. And he knows you know.

You lift a hand, weak but determined and place it over his.

Omg, this turned out way longer than expected!! Hope you liked it anyway. Pls comment/share your thoughts below. ♡

[riddlesrizzler]

Crafting Chaos

summary: You magically turn brooding Slytherins into artists. characters: hufflepuff reader! bf! mattheo riddle. theo nott. blaise zabini. enzo berkshire. draco malfoy. warnings: none, just friendship :) word count: 783

You were practically glowing with excitement as you set up the craft supplies in the Slytherin common room. The table was covered in paints, brushes, clay, yarn, and even some glitter (which you had smuggled in despite Draco’s inevitable complaints).

Mattheo sat beside you, lazily watching as you hummed happily to yourself, arranging everything just right. The other Slytherin boys- Theo, Draco, Blaise, and Enzo- stood nearby, looking anywhere but at the art supplies like they might catch a disease if they got too close.

“So…” Draco finally broke the silence, arms crossed. “We’re really doing this?”

You beamed at him, clasping your hands together. “Yes! It’s going to be so much fun! You all need to relax, and crafts are the perfect way to do that."

Draco opened his mouth, undoubtedly to protest, but before he could get a word out, Mattheo shot him a warning glance. A sharp, don't make me regret inviting you kind of look.

The unspoken rule among the Slytherin boys was simple: don't upset Mattheo's Hufflepuff."

You were sweet, kind, and the picture of innocence- an actual ray of sunshine that had somehow managed to melt Mattheo Riddle's ice-cold exterior. And while they all secretly adored you in their own way, none of them wanted to be on the receiving end of Matteo's wrath if they upset you.

So, even though this craft night went against everything in their brooding, dark- coded souls, they sucked it up.

Theo sighed dramatically before flopping into a chair. "Fine, but if I get paint on my robes, I'm blaming you."

You giggled. "I'll protect your robes, I promise."

Blaise eyed the pile of supplies with a resigned expression. "Alright, what's the easiest thing to make?"

"Oh! You could make friendship bracelets!" you suggest eagerly, pushing string and colorful beads towards him.

Blaise picked up a bead of black and green, rolling it between his fingers before glancing at Mattheo. "Are we seriously making friendship bracelets?"

Mattheo just smirked. "You heard her."

Draco groaned but took a seat, dramatically grabbing some clay like it was his own personal burden to bear. "Fine. But I refuse to use glitter."

You pouted. "But glitter makes everything more magical, though."

Your expression made Mattheo send another deathly glare at Draco once again. Draco rolled his eyes before picking up the glitter in disgust.

Enzo, who had been the most silent of the group, sighed and grabbed a paintbrush. "I'll paint something, I guess."

Your face lit up. "Yes! That's the spirit!"

The boys reluctantly started working on their projects, each of them doing their best to looked annoyed while also making sure they didn't actually look like they were having any fun. You happily bounce between them, complimenting their work with the same enthusiasm as if they had just performed ancient magic.

Draco, despite himself, was sculpting a surprisingly detailed miniature of the Slytherin crest. "This is actually impressive, Draco!" you praised.

He sniffed, feigning nonchalance. "Obviously. I have excellent taste."

Theo was begrudgingly knotting a friendship bracelet, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Why is this so complicated?"

"You're doing amazing, Theo," you add sweetly, patting his shoulder encouragingly.

Blaise, who had fully given in at this point, was surprisingly skilled at bracelet- making. He lifted his half finished one and examined it. "This isn't half bad."

Mattheo watched it all with an amused smirk, resting his chin on his hand. You had somehow managed to get a bunch of stubborn, brooding Slytherins to participate in a wholesome craft night- all without them even realizing they were enjoying themselves.

By the end of the night, everyone had something to show for their work. Even Enzo, who had been the most reluctant, had finished a small painting of a stormy sky.

"See?" you said, smiling as you surveyed their crafts. "Didn't this turn out great?"

The boy all muttered their various versions of I guess it wasn't terrible, but none of them could deny the warmth in their chests when you looked at them like they had just made the best art in the world.

Mattheo, as always, just pulled you into his side, pressing a kiss to you temple. "You really have them wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

You giggled, leaning into him. "I just wanted everyone to have fun!"

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't argue, Theo was still tying off his bracelet with intense focus, and Blaise simply shook his heads with a small smirk.

Because as much as they hated to admit it, no one could ever say no to you.

[pupsmailbox]

ROBOT ID PACK

NAMES ︰ aerobot.　agatha.　ai.　alan.　alethea.　alexia.　algernon.　alistair.　alpha.　amaryllis.　ambrose.　androbot.　androic.　andromeda.　angelica.　antenna.　arabella.　araminta.　arcade.　auto.　automaton.　axel.　axis.　badnik.　bionel.　bolt.　byte.　care.　celline.　cello.　chip.　chipique.　clank.　cloniste.　clonoid.　cobot.　codelle.　cole.　curiosity.　cy.　cyber.　cybette.　cybion.　cypher.　data.　dell.　della.　delpha.　delta.　digi.　dot.　droid.　droidess.　droidis.　dronette.　echo.　elektra.　euna.　eva.　eve.　fritz.　giga.　gizmo.　glitch.　grey.　gynoid.　helix.　holo.　holodir.　hydra.　ida.　jet.　kaput.　kinect.　krudzu.　linion.　mac.　mace.　machibella.　machina.　mal.　malware.　mation.　mech.　mecha.　mechael.　mechan．ace.　metal.　metalia.　metalish.　micro.　motherboard.　motor.　nano.　neo.　nucleus.　nyquist.　orbit.　parallel.　pip.　pixel.　prime.　primus.　proto.　quantum.　radar.　radius.　ram.　ray.　reflect.　reflectette.　robo.　robonaut.　rusty.　satellite.　scrappy.　selsyn.　sentiex.　servo.　shard.　siri.　solar.　sonar.　spark.　sparkie.　sparky.　sputnik.　steele.　sterling.　stochastic.　synchro.　synie.　synthett.　talus.　terra.　tin.　tink.　tobor.　ultramarine.　ultron.　unimate.　unit.　virus.　waldo.　zip.

PRONOUNS︰ ai/ai.　algo/algorithm.　android/android.　app/app.　auto/auto.　auto/automated.　auto/automaton.　axis/axi.　beep/boop.　bio/bionic.　bio/bioplastic.　blast/blast.　bo/bot.　bolt/bolt.　bot/bot.　buffer/buffer.　byte/byte.　cell/cell.　chaos/chaos.　chi/chip.　click/click.　clo/clone.　code/code.　coil/recoil.　command/command.　compute/computer.　core/core.　cyb/cyborg.　cyber/cyber.　data/data.　dev/device.　device/device.　dig/digital.　digi/digital.　droi/droid.　droid/droid.　e/exe.　electric/electric.　entry/entries.　exo/exoskeleton.　gear/gear.　gli/glitch.　glitch/glitch.　hack/hack.　ho/holo.　holo/holo.　hologram/hologram.　in/install.　intra/intranet.　link/link.　machi/machine.　mal/malfunction.　mal/malware.　mech/mech.　mecha/mechanical.　mechanic/mechanic.　metal/metal.　metro/metro.　motor/motor.　neo/neo.　neon/neon.　nuclear/nuclear.　propeller/propeller.　radar/radar.　retro/retro.　robo/robo.　robo/robot.　robot/robot.　rubber/rubber.　satellite/satellite.　sca/scan.　shard/shard.　shine/shiny.　signal/signal.　solar/solar.　steel/steel.　stem/stem.　swi/switch.　syn/synth.　syn/synthetic.　tech/tech.　techno/techno.　test/test.　text/text.　turing/turing.　vi/viru.　web/site.　web/web.　whirr/whirr.　wi/wifi.　wire/wire.　wired/wired.　⚙️/⚙️.　🔧/🔧.　🔩/🔩.　🛠//🛠.　🤖/🤖.

[berilaksl]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

notes ! pure fluff, lovestruck! remus x reader and teasing from marauders.

warnings ! none really

Part I — The Library Chronicles

Golden rays filtered through tall, stained-glass windows of the library and stretched across the polished wooden tables and worn spines of ancient books, casting a sleepy calm over the castle’s scholarly heart.

At the far end of one row, James Potter and Sirius Black sat across from each other, quills in hand and faces lit with suspicious mischief as they pored over a stack of books titled “Charms of Illusions and Confounding Tricks” and “Advanced Magical Mishaps: A Guide.”

“I’m telling you, if we combine the Disillusionment Charm with a basic Muggle smoke bomb—” James started.

“—and maybe a hovering charm so the whole corridor looks like a foggy battlefield,” Sirius finished, practically vibrating in his seat.

Across from them, Remus Lupin was attempting to read Defensive Magical Theory, jaw tight and eyebrows pulled together like storm clouds.

“I don’t know why you two thought the library was the best place to brainstorm a full-blown prank,” Remus muttered, eyes flicking from his book to his parchment. “Some of us are trying to be productive.”

“Some of us,” Sirius said, cocking a brow, “are clearly just trying not to look over at the other table across from us again.”

Remus stilled, the tips of his ears reddening.

James smirked, setting his quill down dramatically. “It’s true. You’ve been glancing up every three minutes, mate. Do you want me to lend you my watch so you can time it better?”

“I am not—”

“—pining? Brooding? Suffering in scholarly silence?” Sirius grinned. “Remus, your tragic love story is happening live in the library and we’re the front-row audience.”

Remus groaned, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple. “You two are insufferable.”

Just a few tables down, you sat with Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald, parchment spread out in front of you as the three of you annotated your Transfiguration notes in neat, color-coded harmony. Well—at least you tried to.

Because every few moments, without meaning to, your gaze would flick upward. Always toward the same place. Always toward him.

Remus Lupin.

You weren’t even sure when it started. Perhaps in third year, when he’d helped you pick up a stack of books you’d dropped near the Herbology greenhouses, and you’d shared a laugh that made your cheeks ache. Or maybe it was during that Potions disaster in fifth year when the two of you had been paired together—pure chaos, but still, he’d looked at you like you were made of stars when you finally figured out the antidote.

He was clever, thoughtful, and ridiculously charming in that quietly sarcastic way that made your stomach twist. And Merlin help you—he had that broody, cardigan-wearing, chocolate-and-old-books energy that made your brain go fuzzy.

But he was also stubborn. Withdrawn. Hard to read when it mattered most. And you? You weren’t about to throw yourself at someone who clearly wasn’t going to make a move.

Even if you sort of—kind of—maybe wanted to.

“You’re staring again,” Lily whispered beside you, scribbling something into the margins of her parchment.

You blinked, suddenly caught. “I was not.”

“Darling,” Mary chimed in, barely glancing up, “you were practically burning a hole through his jumper.”

You flushed and tried to focus on your notes, scribbling a little too hard with your quill.

Back at the Marauders’ table, James leaned across to Sirius. “I’m giving him a week.”

“A week?” Sirius laughed. “You’re generous. I say three days before he finally admits he’s hopelessly in love with her.”

“Will you both shut up?” Remus hissed under his breath, flipping a page so aggressively it nearly tore. But then—

He looked up.

And your eyes met.

It was just a second. Two, maybe. But it felt like everything else in the library blurred out, like the quiet rustling of parchment and distant whispers turned into static. Your breath caught. So did his.

And then you blinked, and it was gone.

Remus dropped his gaze like he’d been hit with a Stunning Spell.

James let out a triumphant whistle. “I saw that! Moony, you romantic bastard.”

“I swear, if you say one more word—” Remus warned, but the heat creeping up his neck gave him away.

Across the room, Lily leaned toward you. “You’re really going to make him suffer like this forever, aren’t you?”

You bit back a smile, twirling your quill slowly. “He could talk to me, you know.”

Mary smirked. “So could you.”

You shrugged, lips twitching. “Where’s the fun in that?”

And he was, against all better judgment, completely ruined.

Meanwhile, you had noticed the glances too.

How could you not?

Every time you so much as flicked your gaze toward Remus, he looked away so fast you almost got whiplash. He was terribly bad at hiding it — which, truthfully, only made him more endearing.

You leaned toward Lily, whispering just loud enough for Mary to hear too.

“Think I should go over there and ask him if he’s lost something?”

Lily choked on a laugh, hiding it behind her hand.

Mary smirked.

“Oh, do it. Please. The poor boy’s about one compliment away from fainting.”

You shook your head, smiling into your parchment.

As much as you liked teasing him in your mind, the idea of confronting Remus Lupin — whose clever, tired smiles made your stomach somersault — was frankly terrifying.

Back at the boys’ table, Sirius and James were plotting.

“We need to do something,” Sirius said, stage-whispering. **“At this rate, he’ll pine himself into an early grave.”

James leaned in conspiratorially. “Operation: Push Moony Off The Ledge?”

“Brilliant.”

Remus caught the look exchanged between them and narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Who, us?” Sirius said innocently.

Before Remus could argue, James and Sirius had both loudly and obnoxiously dropped a very heavy tome on Remus’s half of the table, conveniently open to a page titled:

“Twelve Foolproof Ways To Impress The Witch of Your Dreams.”

Remus turned a shade of crimson that would’ve impressed a Weasley.

He slammed the book shut and hissed: “You absolute prats—”

And that was the exact moment he glanced up — and caught you looking at him, amused, eyes sparkling with barely hidden laughter.

He froze.

It was like someone had floored him. Like time slowed.

Your mouth curved into the faintest, teasing smile before you turned back to your friends, whispering something that made Lily snort into her sleeve.

Remus sat there, heart hammering against his ribs, quill forgotten entirely.

“Smooth,” Sirius said, voice vibrating with laughter. “Real smooth, Moony.”

“I hate you,” Remus muttered.

James patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“We’re doing this for your own good, mate. You’re hopeless.”

Meanwhile, across the library, Lily and Mary were also plotting.

“You have to do something,” Lily urged you. **“He looks like he’s going to pass out if you so much as wave at him.”

Mary added, grinning: “At this point, it’s cruelty to leave him hanging.”

You rolled your eyes, though warmth crept into your cheeks.

“Maybe after we finish this essay…”

(You both knew you wouldn’t wait that long.)

Across the library, two separate operations had been launched — each with the sole mission of pushing two stubborn people toward the inevitable.

And neither of you had a chance.

[agirlandherquill]

writecamp

welcome one and all to this sunny, summery affair! this post is to hereby invite writers to a not-so-little game commencing June 1st - rules to follow - till the end of Summer, August 31st - i know, this challenge is going to be a LOT and a long one, but i for one absolutely cannot wait!

now you may be asking, what is this game and what are the rules? well, dear writer, the purpose of the game is simple - for writecamp, all you have to do is pick a prompt from a given list and compose something with it, prompts could be a word, a trope, a place, a feeling, anything at all, it all depends on the day (if you took part in writemas, you'll be fairly familiar with how it all works :) ) and as for the rules, well, this author sincerely hopes they are as equally simple to follow: if you accept the challenge, be sure to share your responses, share the game with friends, family, anybody you'd like, and that's it, utilise the prompt from the challenge, share your work, and tag me in your responses!

and now for the important part: how is the game going to work?

each day of summer, starting June 1st, i will post the writecamp daily challenge - containing all sorts or prompts to stir the imagination pot

the game is open to all, and if you join late, no problem! just embrace the writery spirit of summer and play along! (you don't have to complete every day's challenge, but whatever you do, always be proud of yourself!)

bonus part (completely optional, but lovely if you choose to do it) - alongside your challenge entries, make sure to find a blog on writeblr, a writer you admire or one you've only just found, and pay them a compliment! (something so small but so, so important <3)

and since this post is an invitation to everyone out there on writeblr, in order to participate and be notified of the challenge posts when they go live, all you have to do is interact with this post and you're on the tag list!

any questions, let me know, and happy writing!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~

tag list time! open tag as always too!

@the-ellia-west @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @365runesofthesystem

@coffin-hopping @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @a-mimsy-borogove @frostedlemonwriter @i-do-anything-but-write

@r-u-living @thatuselesshuman @lead-to-code @sunflowerrosy @theaistired

@phoenixradiant @autism-purgatory @corinneglass @tiredpapergirl @patheticexcuseforawriter

@missmisanthrope @littlestchildofthemoon @morganxduinn @thebrownleathernotebook @rmhashauthor

@lamuradex @fantasy-things-and-such @glasshouses-and-stones @hattonthehatman @humbly-a-doppelganger

@ramwritblr @s-pendragon7 @thelastneuron @heartreactor @ihauntmyhouse

@shiningstars-world @scaewolf @just-emis-blog @joeys-piano @ramitola

@yrndrgn @riveriafalll @lawrencespen1777 @theverumproject @zackprincebooks

@justjariel @orion-lacroix @jupiter---daydreams @vinniehorrible @stars-forever

@thewritingautisticat @whatwewrotepodcast @anaisbebe @appleandsnow @urnumber1star

@chaotictravelerrants @andagii-projects @dragmewithyoutonirvana @a-bi-cat-with-books @fearofahumanplanet

@just-a-domesticated-cryptid @attemptingwriter @kitkins13 @ray-writes-n-shit

@theonewholivesinthemovies @rheas-chaos-motivation @bookwormclover @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

@aalinaaaaaa

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (Part III)

Plot Overview:

Y/N is caught between her father’s crumbling empire and Chan’s rebellion. As she help Chan track down missing operatives, their bond grows, leading to a deadly confrontation that forces Y/N to question her loyalty. Chan offers a chance to dismantle her father’s empire, and though torn, Y/N chooses to join him, starting a dangerous journey to reshape their future.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, Mafia!AU, mature themes, emotional distress, angst, violence, dangerous situations, strong language, mental health struggles, (the smut will be in the next chapter🤭)

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V, PART VI, FINAL PART

Author note:

Well, well, well, look at us—third chapter in, and I’m still alive to tell the tale! 😂 This chapter? Yeah, it’s a beast. I’ve never written anything this long or complex, and honestly, I’m half-wondering if I’ve accidentally started writing an entire novel instead of just a chapter. But here we are, diving into some serious emotional roller coasters, plot twists, and the kind of chaos that makes me question my sanity.

I really hope you all enjoy this wild ride as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it (even if it has given me a few grey hairs along the way). Your support means the world to me! So buckle up, we’re just getting started. And, as always, drop me a comment if you’re loving or hating something—I’m here for all of it. Let’s keep this adventure going! ✨ Also, just a little heads up… the next chapter is going to get a little smuttier 😉.

⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, the muted warmth doing little to soften the chill that lingered in the room. You stretched, pushing off the weight of sleep with a growing restlessness. The space was luxurious but sterile, the kind of calculated opulence that screamed control rather than comfort.

When the door creaked open, breakfast was placed on a table near the window, and the figure delivering it slipped out as quickly as they’d come. You ignored it, slipping through the door before it could click shut. You weren’t going to spend the morning caged.

The hallways were quiet, the air filled with a faint hum of electricity. The mansion was sprawling but not ostentatious, its corridors lined with muted artwork and design choices that reeked of deliberation. It wasn’t your father’s world of obvious power and intimidation. It was colder. Subtler.

You found yourself wandering into a study. Unlike the other rooms, this one felt alive. A faint coffee scent lingered, mixing with the tang of paper and leather. A massive map dominated one wall, scattered with colored pins and strings. You moved closer, scanning the markings.

It didn’t take long to piece together what you were looking at. It was a blueprint of Victor’s empire—supply chains, strongholds, key distribution hubs. The red pins marked locations already compromised, while others, still green, pulsed with potential. A web of alliances and pressure points sprawled before you like an open wound.

You leaned forward, your eyes narrowing as they landed on a cluster of yellow-marked routes near the northern sector. The shipping lines there were irregular, crisscrossing in ways that screamed inefficiency. You could see where Chan’s strategy was stuck—his carefully laid plans bottlenecked by gaps he hadn’t yet closed.

Your fingers brushed across the documents scattered on the desk—financials, coded logs, surveillance notes. Victor’s empire wasn’t just cracking; it was being dismantled piece by piece.

“You’re full of surprises.”

The sound of Chan’s voice cut through the stillness, low and smooth. You straightened but didn’t turn. “And you’re full of shadows. How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to wonder if I should be worried.” His tone carried its usual casual confidence, but his eyes flicked toward the papers you’d been studying. “Finding everything to your liking?”

You turned, leaning back against the desk with deliberate nonchalance. “Interesting work. Though I can’t tell if the overcomplication is intentional or just your style.”

Chan stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, his gaze sharp as it swept over you and the map. “Overcomplication?”

You tilted your head toward the yellow routes. “You’re clogging your own lanes. The northern supply chain is built for redundancy, but instead of reinforcing efficiency, you’re creating a choke point. It’s obvious Victor did it to keep people guessing, but now you’re tripping over it.”

Chan’s eyes flicked to the map, and for the first time, he hesitated. “Interesting observation.”

“Observation? No. Solution,” you corrected, stepping toward the map. “You’re trying to seize control of both eastern and northern routes simultaneously. That’s why it’s falling apart. Drop the secondary lines from the north—they’re dead weight. Consolidate the flow into two hubs instead of four, and you’ll cut transit time by half.”

He stared at the map, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

His gaze returned to you, sharper now, as if trying to read the thoughts you hadn’t spoken aloud. “Why are you helping me?”

You held his stare, refusing to flinch under the weight of his scrutiny. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

His smirk grew, slow and deliberate. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “It’s not.”

The room seemed to shrink under the tension, the air thick with unspoken questions. Finally, Chan broke the silence. “You know, if you keep showing off, I might start thinking you want a seat at the table.”

You crossed your arms, meeting his smirk with a wry one of your own. “Maybe I just like proving you wrong. You’re not as untouchable as you think, Chan. Your plans aren’t perfect.”

“And yet,” he countered, “here you are, improving them.”

You exhaled sharply, turning back to the map. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you could keep up.”

He chuckled, the sound low and amused. “And?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your smirk sharp as a blade. “Jury’s still out.”

Chan stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his presence but not enough to invade your space. “You’re still dodging my question, Y/N. Why help me? Are you so confident Victor can withstand it?”

Your jaw tightened at the mention of your father. “Maybe I’m not as confident in Victor as you think.”

That seemed to catch him off guard, though he quickly masked it. “Careful. That almost sounded like an admission.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you shot back, your tone lighter but no less firm. “I haven’t picked a side. Yet.”

The faintest flicker of something crossed his face—respect, intrigue, or perhaps a mix of both. “Fair enough,” he said finally. “But when you do, make sure it’s the right one.”

You laughed, the sound short and humorless. “And which side is that? Yours?”

“I’m not the one clinging to a crumbling empire,” he said smoothly. “I’m building something new. Something better.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception, but all you found was unshakable confidence. It annoyed you as much as it intrigued you.

“Better is subjective,” you said finally.

“Then help me define it.” His voice dropped, soft but unyielding. “You’re smart enough to know the cracks in Victor’s empire can’t be patched. The question is, what do you want to see rise from the ashes?”

For the first time, you didn’t have an immediate answer.

Chan’s smirk returned, lighter now but no less self-assured. “Think about it,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll see if your suggestion works. But if it doesn’t…”

“It will,” you interrupted.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back with a grin that was equal parts challenging and amused. “We’ll see.”

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone with the map, the documents, and the weight of his words.

What do you want to see rise from the ashes?

The question lingered, unsettling and persistent.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure of the answer.

The days since the confrontation with Chan had been strange, to say the least. The mansion’s rhythm ebbed and flowed with calculated precision, as though every movement, every conversation, had been planned days in advance.

You spent your time exploring its sprawling halls, learning its rhythms, and testing your boundaries. The guards rarely spoke to you beyond clipped warnings when you wandered too close to restricted areas. You couldn’t tell if they were following Chan’s orders or acting out of their own wariness.

Chan, however, was different. He appeared only when he wanted to, catching you off guard with sly remarks and a confidence that made it clear he was always one step ahead. His teasing came with a sharp edge, but there was no denying the undercurrent of mutual curiosity between you.

You didn’t trust him, and he didn’t trust you. Yet, in those fleeting conversations, there was a spark—an understanding that neither of you were playing at full strength yet.

Then, one morning, the mansion’s calm shattered.

You’d been in the study, feigning interest in a book, when the sound of hurried footsteps caught your ear. The low hum of conversation from the hall was sharper today, clipped and urgent.

Moments later, Chan strode into the room, his usual composure marred by a tightness in his jaw. He moved with purpose, his focus so sharp that he didn’t acknowledge your presence.

“You’re upset,” you noted, setting the book aside.

He ignored you, striding to his desk and pulling up a screen.

Before you could push further, another figure entered the room: Changbin. His pace matched Chan’s intensity, his voice low and urgent as he spoke.

“Victor’s people hit the northern base,” Changbin reported. “They’ve taken out the comms tower. Felix and Hyunjin went dark an hour ago.”

Chan froze for a split second before his mask of control slid back into place. “Casualties?”

“None confirmed yet,” Changbin said. “But it’s not looking good. We have partial intel—they’ve shut down our local network, and the safe houses are at risk. If they’ve got Felix or Hyunjin…”

Chan exhaled through his nose, his focus razor-sharp. “Start evacuation protocols for the northern sector. Clear out the Graham location and put everyone in safe houses on standby. If they’ve been compromised, I want them out of there before Victor’s people can move.”

Your ears perked at the name, a chill running through you. “Wait—Graham and Sons?” you interrupted, stepping forward.

Both men turned to you, Chan’s eyes narrowing. “What about it?”

You frowned, your mind racing. “That’s not just a random location. It’s one of Victor’s decoy transport hubs. If you’ve got people stationed there, they’re already compromised.”

Changbin looked to Chan, his expression unreadable but tinged with suspicion. “You trust her?”

Chan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied you, his gaze intense. “How do you know that?”

“Because I grew up in this,” you shot back, folding your arms. “You think I don’t know the names he hides behind? Graham and Sons isn’t just a front. It’s bait. Victor uses it to lure out threats to his network—and he won’t hesitate to cut down anyone who gets too close.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Changbin crossed his arms. “And we’re just supposed to take her word for it?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Fine, don’t listen to me. But if you wait too long, Felix and Hyunjin won’t be unaccounted for—they’ll be dead.”

Chan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then he turned to Changbin. “Pull everyone from Graham and cross-check her intel with what we’ve got. Double it with our sources on the ground. If it matches, we move.”

Changbin hesitated, clearly wanting to argue, but nodded. “On it.”

He left the room, and Chan turned back to you. His gaze was sharp, calculating. “Why help me?”

You didn’t flinch under his scrutiny. “Maybe I don’t want to see Felix and Hyunjin killed. Or maybe I’d rather not see my father win.”

Chan smirked faintly, though his eyes were still hard. “Still haven’t picked a side, have you?”

“Would you prefer I did?”

His silence spoke volumes.

“I’ll take that as a no,” you said, your voice dry.

He leaned back against the desk, his posture deceptively casual. “If your information is right, you’ll have saved lives today. If it’s not…”

"You think I’m lying?”

“I think you’ve got more cards to play,” he replied smoothly. “And I don’t trust people who keep their hands hidden.”

You stepped closer, your voice calm but firm. “Then maybe you should play smarter.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked on yours. Then his lips quirked into a faint smirk. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I aim to keep things interesting,” you replied, your tone light but with an undercurrent of steel.

Chan pushed off the desk, brushing past you toward the door. “Keep proving yourself useful, and maybe I’ll start believing you’re not working an angle.”

You watched him go, the tension in the room thick and charged. Somewhere out there, Felix and Hyunjin were waiting—caught in the web of a game far larger than either of them could control.

And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, you hoped you’d been right.

Later that evening the tension in the mansion was palpable, an undercurrent of urgency threading through every hallway. Chan had been holed up in his office since the crisis broke, and though you were technically “off-limits” to the ongoing operation, you’d found a way to keep yourself within earshot of every critical update.

The news wasn’t promising. Felix and Hyunjin were still unaccounted for, and the evacuation of Graham and Sons had only confirmed what you’d already suspected: your father’s people had the upper hand.

When Chan’s voice called your name from the hall, you half-expected him to demand that you stay out of his way. Instead, his tone was calm, measured. Too calm.

You pushed the door open to find him standing at his desk, surrounded by screens displaying live feeds, maps, and rows of encrypted data. Changbin hovered nearby, arms crossed, tension radiating off him in waves.

Chan gestured to you without preamble. “You’ve been watching long enough. Sit.”

You raised a brow, keeping your voice steady. “I didn’t realize you were taking suggestions.”

“I’m not,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you. “I’m testing you. You know your father’s network better than anyone in this room. Prove it.”

You stepped into the room, feeling the weight of both men’s eyes on you. Taking the chair across from Chan, you crossed your legs and leaned back, affecting a confidence you weren’t entirely sure you felt.

“Where’s the hole?” you asked, nodding toward the map on the central monitor.

Chan exchanged a brief glance with Changbin before turning the screen toward you. “Here,” he said, pointing to a blinking red marker. “Safe house near Monroe. Felix and Hyunjin were scheduled to meet there, but they never checked in. No comms, no movement.”

You studied the map, your mind working quickly. Your father’s security protocols weren’t just strict—they were obsessive. If his people had cut communication lines, it wasn’t just to block intel. They were setting a trap.

“They’ll have a fallback,” you said. “Felix and Hyunjin. If they know the area’s compromised, they’ll move to the secondary site.”

“We don’t have a secondary site near Monroe,” Changbin said flatly.

“Not yours. Victor’s,” you clarified.

Chan’s brow furrowed, interest flickering in his eyes. “Explain.”

You leaned forward, pointing at the map. “Victor doesn’t trust his own men, let alone outsiders. Every base, every safe house—he sets up redundancies, but not for the reasons you think. It’s not to protect his people. It’s to catch them if they run.”

“And you think Felix and Hyunjin would know about this?” Chan asked, his tone skeptical but curious.

“They wouldn’t have to,” you said. “Victor’s patterns are predictable once you know them. He keeps fallback locations close but hidden, somewhere his own men wouldn’t think to look unless they were desperate.”

Changbin’s frown deepened. “That’s a lot of guesswork.”

You shot him a look. “Do you have a better idea?”

Chan held up a hand, silencing the argument before it could escalate. His gaze stayed on you, sharp and probing. “What kind of fallback location are we talking about?”

You tapped your fingers on the edge of the desk, recalling the layouts you’d studied for years. “Something off-grid. An abandoned structure, maybe a warehouse. He’d want it close enough to monitor, but isolated enough that no one would stumble on it by accident.”

Chan nodded slowly, his mind already working through possibilities. “Changbin, pull up the satellite maps for the area. Focus on industrial zones or decommissioned sites within a five-mile radius of the Monroe house.”

As Changbin worked, Chan turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “Why help them?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected. You could have given him a dozen answers—some practical, some calculated—but the truth was simpler.

“Because I can,” you said quietly. “And because I don’t know yet what side I’m on.”

He studied you for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Suspicion? Respect? Maybe both.

Changbin’s voice broke the silence. “Got something. Old manufacturing plant, shut down five years ago. It’s less than three miles from the safe house, just outside the patrol radius.”

Chan nodded sharply, already moving toward the door. “Prep the team. We’ll leave in five.”

To your surprise, he turned back to you, his gaze steady. “You’re coming.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know Victor’s traps better than anyone. If this is one of them, I want you there.”

“And if I’m wrong?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Chan smirked, his confidence infuriatingly unshaken. “Then I guess we’ll both find out.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Going with him meant stepping further into his world, further away from your father’s. It meant testing your loyalties in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.

But it also meant a chance to prove you weren’t just a pawn in someone else’s game.

“Fine,” you said, rising to your feet. “But if this goes south, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Chan’s smirk widened, and for the first time, you saw something close to genuine amusement in his eyes. “Noted.”

As the team prepared to move, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—this decision—was another crack in the foundation you’d spent your entire life standing on.

And you weren’t sure whether you were ready to see it fall.

The night had been long and tense. The team, guided by the plan you had proposed, moved quickly through the industrial zone. The dilapidated manufacturing plant you’d pinpointed turned out to be the fallback location Felix and Hyunjin had made for themselves. The security measures were minimal—just enough to keep outsiders at bay, but not enough to fool someone familiar with Victor’s tactics.

It was exactly as you’d predicted. Felix and Hyunjin had been trapped, but they hadn’t been caught. They’d already set up an escape route of their own, using an old underground access tunnel leading out of the compound.

As the operatives infiltrated the plant, you couldn’t help but feel a small rush of satisfaction. Felix and Hyunjin were safe—finally. The team worked in smooth coordination, securing them without any further casualties. You had been right all along.

“You were right,” Chan muttered as he surveyed the area with his usual stoic expression. It wasn’t much, but you caught the subtle shift in his eyes as he acknowledged your insight.

Felix gave you a tired but grateful smile. “Guess we owe you one.”

“Just don’t get caught next time,” you replied with a smirk, though the satisfaction of the mission’s success warmed something inside you.

But the victory was short-lived.

The atmosphere at the mansion had barely settled before the next wave of danger hit. As the operatives and the team returned, expecting a brief respite, a wave of alarms shattered the uneasy silence.

Chan’s hand flew to his earpiece, his voice hard as he barked orders to the team. “They’ve found us. Victor’s men are here.”

Your heart dropped as you turned to Chan, his eyes narrowing. “Get to the safe room. Now.”

Before you could even respond, the mansion was plunged into chaos. You moved quickly, following Chan and the team as they scrambled to reinforce key exits and prepare for a full-on assault. But even with the heightened security, the feeling of being hunted—of being trapped—was suffocating.

You had no time to think before the first round of gunfire hit, sharp and deafening, echoing through the halls. The mansion wasn’t just under siege; they were inside.

“Stay behind me!” Chan growled as he pulled you into a nearby hallway. You barely had time to register the sheer danger of the moment before you were crouched low, moving quickly as his operatives returned fire.

But then, in the chaos, everything seemed to happen at once. You ducked behind a pillar, narrowly avoiding a burst of gunfire. In the process, you twisted your ankle, collapsing to the ground with a painful grunt. Before you could recover, another round exploded too close to your position, a stray bullet grazing your arm.

You hissed in pain, clutching at your bleeding arm. You couldn’t focus on it; the only thing you could focus on was the sheer force of the attack. You barely heard Chan’s voice over the clamor of the assault.

“Stay down,” he barked, moving toward you with a fierce protectiveness that was uncharacteristic of his usual cold exterior.

But you didn’t have time to argue as he swept you into his arms, pulling you behind the nearest barricade. The calculated focus in his eyes never faltered. He was in command, but there was something else—an urgency to keep you safe that you hadn’t anticipated.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice tense as he checked your injury. You could feel his hands on you, pulling your arm gently to assess the wound. Despite the high-stakes situation, there was a tenderness in the way he moved, as though he wasn’t just trying to save you from harm—but from something deeper.

His fingers brushed your skin, an almost imperceptible gentleness in the midst of chaos. For a moment, it was just the two of you—the madness of the world outside and the calculated storm of gunfire drowned out by the shared connection.

“This won’t be the last time,” he said, his voice low as he wrapped your arm carefully, making sure the pressure was right. You could feel his fingers, light but deliberate, as he treated the wound. There was no rush, no panic.

For a brief second, you noticed something about him—something that wasn’t calculated or cold. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as though he cared more than he was willing to show.

“You’re fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his gaze steady, but his expression softened for just a moment. “You’re not dying on me.”

You blinked, the rawness of the moment catching you off guard. “You’re sure?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, it was as if the world paused—if only briefly. The sounds of gunfire were a muffled background to the intensity of his focus. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tightened the bandage and stood, pulling you to your feet.

His voice was hard again as he guided you toward the nearest exit. “We don’t have time to talk. Let’s go.”

But even as you moved through the corridors, escaping the immediate danger, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the quiet moment shared between the two of you wasn’t one of simple survival. Something had shifted. Something unspoken.

And in the aftermath of the chaos, with the scent of blood and danger in the air, you realized you’d seen a side of Chan no one else had—one that made you question where your loyalties truly lay.

The hours following the attack passed in a blur. The mansion, once a fortress of impenetrable walls, now felt like a fragile shell that could crack at any moment. Chan and his team had neutralized the threat swiftly, using the knowledge you’d helped provide about Victor’s network and the strategic positions of his men. With a few tactical moves, the assailants were driven back, and though some minor damage had been done, the mansion stood strong. Felix and Hyunjin were safe. The team was intact. The immediate danger was over.

But the weight of the night hung in the air, heavy with the unsaid. The adrenaline that had coursed through your veins in the heat of battle had given way to something quieter, more complex. The echoes of gunfire were gone, but the tension between you and Chan lingered, thick and undeniable.

You were in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of water, trying to clear your mind. The events of the day had left you exhausted—physically, yes, but more so mentally. You had done your part, had proven your worth, but there was no escaping the pull that Chan seemed to have on you, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. The attraction was there, undeniable. But it was dangerous.

You felt his presence before you saw him, the subtle shift in the air when Chan entered the room. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was there—his energy filled the space. His sharp eyes on you, the silent weight of his presence, made your pulse quicken despite yourself.

“You should be resting,” he said casually, as though the tension that had laced his commands earlier had never existed. His voice, however, carried a hint of something else—an edge, a challenge.

You didn’t look up as you replied, keeping your voice steady. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, stepping closer, just enough to be in your line of sight. His gaze flickered to your arm, now bandaged and well on the way to healing. “You’re tough. I’ll give you that.”

You scoffed lightly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your neck at his words. The way he was looking at you now—almost amused—felt like a game, but one you weren’t sure you knew the rules to. You took a small sip of water, needing to put some space between you and the emotions threatening to spill over.

Chan didn’t let up, though. “I’m surprised. Thought you’d be more upset about the whole ‘almost being shot’ thing.”

The teasing edge to his tone didn’t make it any easier to ignore the way your heart picked up its pace. You were keenly aware of how close he stood, of the heat radiating from his body despite the cool air. You could feel his presence pressing against you, and your mind refused to focus on anything but him.

“Well, I wasn’t shot,” you retorted, meeting his gaze at last. The challenge in your voice was as much for yourself as it was for him. “So I guess that’s something.”

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes darkening with a glint of mischief. “You know, I’m starting to think you enjoy the danger.”

Your throat went dry, and despite yourself, you laughed—short and sharp. “I don’t enjoy it. But I’m not exactly afraid of it either.”

“You should be,” he said softly, his tone turning serious for a brief moment. He leaned in, almost imperceptibly, and for a heartbeat, there was no room between you—just the quiet hum of tension that surged between you both. You could smell the faint trace of gunpowder on his skin, mixed with the ever-present scent of cologne. The proximity felt dangerous, yet the magnetic pull of him was impossible to ignore.

He was so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it made your body react in ways you couldn’t control. Every inch of you screamed to pull away, to maintain the distance that was keeping everything in check. But something about Chan—about the way he looked at you, about the small glint of vulnerability you saw beneath the hard exterior—made you question everything.

“What’s the point of being afraid?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Fear doesn’t keep anyone safe. It just holds you back.”

Chan’s gaze flickered to your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with an unspoken understanding. His mouth was dry, and you could see the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—a hunger, a tension that was as magnetic as it was dangerous.

Then, as if aware of how close you’d both come to crossing a line, he leaned back, the space between you widening, though the tension didn’t dissipate.

“Fair enough,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than it had been before. He cleared his throat. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not risky.”

You swallowed hard, looking away, trying to regain some semblance of control. But his presence, his words, had shaken you. And deep down, you knew something had shifted. You couldn’t tell if it was the aftermath of the crisis, the adrenaline, or the way he seemed to see right through you—but the boundary had shifted. The walls you’d carefully built were beginning to crumble.

Chan took a step back, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. “You’re not who you seem to be,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re more than just a pawn in all this.”

You felt a pang of something you didn’t quite recognize, but it wasn’t anger. It was… something else. A quiet understanding. It made your chest tighten, and for the first time, you realized how little control you had over what was happening between the two of you.

And as he turned and walked away, leaving you with the storm of your own thoughts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this—whatever it was—wasn’t over. It hadn’t even begun.

The news kept coming—each report more damning than the last. Your father’s empire was crumbling in real-time. Chan’s plans were progressing faster than anyone had expected. Supply lines were breaking, alliances were splintering, and the internal resistance within Victor’s ranks was growing stronger. It was all coming apart, just like Chan had predicted.

Victor, however, was far from giving up. His fight wasn’t over. He was tightening his grip, bringing in every last resource to hold onto the empire he’d built, despite the cracks beginning to show. You could almost hear his rage echo through the chaotic reports flooding in. He would not go down without a fight.

Chan leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the screen showing a live map of Victor’s remaining strongholds. “We’ve hit a critical point. The network’s destabilized, but he’s not finished yet. He’ll try to regroup. It’s only a matter of time before he pushes back.”

You stood by the window, looking out at the darkening sky. You could feel the weight of your father’s empire bearing down on you, like a dying beast desperate to survive. It was hard to shake the feeling that you were witnessing the end of everything you knew—everything you had once thought was untouchable.

“I thought… I thought this would be easier,” you muttered, your fingers brushing the edge of the window frame.

Chan’s voice was calm but firm as he spoke, his presence cutting through the tension. “It never is. But we’ve only just started, Y/N. The hardest part is coming.”

You turned toward him, meeting his gaze. There was no doubt in his eyes, no hesitation. He was certain—he always had been. But you felt the weight of your own doubts pressing in on you, as if you were standing at the edge of something vast and unknown.

“The hardest part,” you repeated, almost to yourself, “and you still want me to help you finish it?”

Chan stepped closer, his expression softening just a touch. “I’m not asking you to destroy everything you’ve known. I’m asking you to help me end what’s already falling apart. Help me tear down the structures that are keeping Victor in power.”

You took a deep breath. “And then what?”

His eyes darkened slightly, and for the briefest moment, something almost vulnerable flickered across his face. “Then we rebuild. But that’s for later. For now, we focus on making sure he doesn’t have the chance to come back. Once he’s gone, the pieces will be there for the taking.”

You felt a pang in your chest. “And I’m supposed to just… step into that? To take everything my father built and use it for your vision?”

“You’ve seen the cracks in Victor’s empire long before I came along,” Chan said, his voice quiet but unwavering. “You know it can’t survive in its current form. His obsession with control—his refusal to trust anyone—has already weakened it from the inside out. All I’m doing is speeding up the inevitable.”

You hesitated, the reality of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. “And when it’s all over? What happens then?”

Chan’s gaze was steady, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. ���Then you take control. You become the one to rebuild. But only after we’ve brought him down. After we’ve made sure he can never hurt anyone again.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The idea—your idea—of taking control felt like a distant possibility, something you weren’t quite ready to admit. But even now, the pieces were falling into place. You weren’t just helping him destroy your father’s empire. You were preparing for something bigger, something that made your stomach twist in both fear and anticipation.

“You’re asking me to step into my father’s shoes,” you said, the weight of the truth sinking in. “You want me to take everything he built—and do what with it?”

“I’m not asking you to become him,” Chan said, his voice gentle now. “I’m asking you to become someone better. Someone who can rebuild it all into something that actually works.”

The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of your choice. You wanted to resist him, wanted to reject the path he was offering. But deep down, you knew he was right. You’d already seen the cracks in your father’s empire—the cracks that were now yawning wide.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can watch it all burn and not feel like I’m betraying everything I’ve ever known.”

Chan’s expression softened just enough to show the faintest trace of understanding. “It won’t be easy. But it’s the only way forward. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

You let out a slow breath, the truth of it settling deep in your chest. The path ahead was unclear, but for the first time, you weren’t just fighting for survival. You were fighting for something more—something bigger. Maybe even something better.

“You’re asking me to betray my father,” you said, the words heavier than they had ever felt.

Chan nodded. “I’m asking you to save what’s left of him—and make sure no one else falls into the same traps he set.”

A deep silence filled the room, the weight of the decision hanging between you. You had made your choice. It wasn’t about loyalty anymore. It was about the future. And for the first time, you could see that future—not just as a shadow of destruction, but as something you could shape.

“I’ll help you,” you said, your voice firm, though a part of you still felt the tremor of doubt. “I’ll help you bring him down.”

Chan’s eyes flashed with something you hadn’t expected: approval. “We’re getting closer, Y/N. This is only the beginning.”

You looked up at him, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension. The future you had once fought so hard to hold on to was slipping away, and with it, everything you had known. But now, you saw something else in its place—a chance to shape something new.

You couldn’t help but wonder if, in the end, you’d be able to rebuild it all with him. But for now, there was no turning back. You were already too far in.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[sabrinajenre96]

“Episode Eleven ~ The (Not So) Scary Medical Masquerade”

Michael Robinavitch x wife reader x their kids

Warning ⚠️: the Robinavitch's kids specifically Spencer

Spencer Robinavitch had one goal this Halloween: win the Pitt’s costume contest.

Technically, it was for hospital staff, but she argued, “I’m a part-time hospital entertainment specialist.” And that was that.

The family theme? “Robinavitch General: The Halloween Shift.”

Michael reluctantly agreed to dress as a zombified version of himself. Spencer insisted on fake blood and a name badge that said “Dr. Dead Tired.”

Y/N went full mad-scientist-meets-goth-glam with a glitter-splashed lab coat and syringe earrings.

Spencer was, of course, herself—but with dramatic eye makeup, a clipboard bigger than her torso, and a stethoscope wrapped in orange ribbon. She demanded to be called “Chief of Boo-rgery.”

Grayson wore a surgical gown, a giant fake head bandage, and dramatically dragged a plastic IV pole behind him. “I’m her victim,” he deadpanned.

Sawyer, on crutches, took one for the team and wore scrubs with dramatic blood spatters and “Code Red” written across her chest. “Honestly? This fits my mood lately,” she said as Spencer helped her glue on a fake scar.

Kojo was a mummy. It took three rolls of gauze, a bribe, and four meatballs.

---

At the Pitt

The staff was already in chaos. Dana was dressed as a skeleton in scrubs, Trina was a literal “nurse witch,” and Princess had bat wings on her back and a matching black tutu over her uniform.

“Paging Dr. Drama,” Spencer announced as she walked into the ER, clipboard in hand. “There’s a case of chronic uncoolness happening near the vending machines.”

“Spencer, you’re not even on staff,” Dr. Heather Collins laughed, fixing her cat ears.

“I’m on call for vibes.”

Dr. Mel King walked by with a pumpkin-shaped oxygen tank for laughs. “You again?”

“Dr. King,” Spencer said seriously, “we have a sugar-related emergency. I need access to two Snickers and a backup Kit Kat. Stat.”

---

The Contest Begins

A makeshift runway was set up in the main hallway.

The crowd went wild when Spencer’s crew strutted out in full character—Kojo howled on cue.

“Grayson, limp harder!” Spencer ordered. “You’re hemorrhaging flair!”

Judges: Dr. Langdon, Princess, and Jack Abbott, who showed up as a very suave vampire (and was already sneaking candy to the interns).

When asked about her costume, Spencer dramatically adjusted her stethoscope.

“I’m the scariest thing in this hospital—a five-year-old with access to the intercom.”

---

Bonus Chaos: Candy Round

At one point, Spencer took over the nurse’s station PA system.

“Attention Pitt Staff: The candy has been relocated to the x-ray room. Only cool people may enter. That is all.”

Michael, halfway through charting, blinked. “Did she just commandeer the system again?”

Y/N didn’t even look up. “Yep.”

“Should we stop her?”

“Probably. Will we?”

“…No.”

---

The Aftermath

Spencer didn’t win the contest.

Princess won for her dramatic reenactment of “a nurse during flu season.”

But Spencer did get the “Tiny Terror MVP” trophy—custom-made by Jack with a glitter syringe glued on top.

As they walked to the car, candy bags full, Spencer grinned up at her dad.

“I told you we’d win something.”

Michael shook his head, carrying Kojo like a baby since he tripped over his own bandages.

“Next year,” Y/N whispered, “we’re dressing up like a normal family.”

Spencer gasped. “Normal is for outpatients.”

[lurkingshan]

Atom aggressively pursuing a hook up with Boston, reassuring Boston that he knew what he wanted when Boston actually tried to dissuade him several times, and then still turning on a dime and accusing him of wronging him by giving him exactly what he asked for is such sharp commentary about the way sexually promiscuous people are judged and unfairly maligned by the very people who want to use them.

This is further underlined by Sand saying to Ray “compared to Boston you’re a saint” literally while Ray is actively cheating on his boyfriend with him and lying about it. Under what moral code is lying and betraying someone’s trust “better” than having sex with a lot of people with no broken commitments or lying involved? On what grounds does Sand still think himself above Boston when he himself went out of his way to sew chaos and hurt people just to get revenge on Top? This whole group really gets off on fancying themselves superior to each other and the hypocrisy among them stays a constant theme.

[northernember]

Mare and Cal are so Earth and Sun coded to me, and in this barely coherent essay I will-

Cal was formed under immense pressure, expected to be an eternal, intimidating beacon for his people and watch over them, ruling them with intense and guiding rays. But a beacon that is also capable of unfathomable destruction if necessary or under extreme mental duress.

Mare was made by circumstances outside her control, initial chaos that settles into a rough silence before softening into something more. By sheer chance and will she becomes the embodiment of change and growth, she is the force that commands that one adapt or be pulled beneath the waves.

And the Sun watches her dance around him, tilting and twirling in a beautiful dance that is rough by nature, ragged like waves upon the rocks, or lightning flashing across the sky, it is mesmerizing as her change travels consistent and true across her surface. Always a beautiful wash of seasons, weather patterns, and spiraling terrains that paint a breathtaking canvas

He longs to do the same but fears what chain reaction his change would cause. Would it result in mass destruction of everything he's ever known, or would he be able to finally hold her closer and open himself entire to her curious, searching eyes.

But the Sun does change, even if he can not see it, small ripples that spread out across time. Soft and gentle tilts. But the Earth observes, watching the smallest flare along his surface that indicates a shift with expectation and baited breath.

And the Sun recoils in the face of her waiting, for she is the only one that has ever expected him to be anything more than he's ever been, capable of more than barely restrained wrath. At first, he rejects the notion he is capable of change, of good change, and turns in on himself. Retreating to the overwhelming encasing heat of his being, he's always known. But she waits, and pushes, and stands her ground, she does not fear him or what he is capable of, before finally, it ripples across his surface, covering it in a beautiful wave of colors and he shifts, his orbit reaching out to hers.

And then the Sun kneels before the Earth and declares his love for her, and the Earth brushes her hands across his surface, bold and loving despite the destruction built within his very structure.

And they continue to orbit, a constant comfort amongst the chaos around them. Orbits pushing and pulling, hands always seeking the other. Sunlight kisses every inch it can reach, showering the Earth in the few ways it knows how to love.

And she leans into and absorbs all of it, taking in all he can give her with no fear or restraint. Pressing hands against warm skin, brushing away stray hair and pressing her lips against his, letting him feel every inch of her ever changing land mass and oceans, her strong, resilient core that will yield to no one. And he looks on with amazement, all he's ever seen, and witnessed pales in comparison to the heavenly Earth before him.

[a103-chris-mm]

Sturniolo Holes Moodboards + Nate doe

Nick- Code - 16 - Nick had a belief that there was something up with their school so he hacked into the schools system only to find that the administration has favoritism to certain rich students. He planned to expose them but he got caught. Once at camp green lake he was quiet at first, he wasn't shy but he was incredibly angry about the situation and wasn't in the mood to interact with other boys. plus he didn’t necessarily like the boys. He got along with Zero quickly and zero had viewed him as family. Nick and Stanley helped zero learn to spell…..He got the name code because of his hacking abilities.

Matt- Match - 16 - Matt had gone joyriding with his friends. Although he didn’t steal the car he didn’t really stop either. Once at camp green lake, he was a diffuser of all tension. He was a peacemaker. He immediately became friends with Stanley and Magnet. Magnet and Matt shared their love for dogs. Because he didn’t talk much unless conflict was happening, he didn’t complain much about digging the holes. Everyone saw him as very a chill person. This gained the respect of x-ray…… He got the name Match for somehow always matching everyone's energy. 

Chris- Trip - 16 - Chris was sentenced because he spray painted all over his school. If it wasn't his artwork of targeting the school board it was art of a brand he wanted to start in the future called Fresh Love. Once at camp green lake, he immediately was butting heads with Zigzag. They were always going back and forth because of Zigzags accusations of Chris thinking he's better than everyone else. Eventually, Zigzag warmed up to Chris and they slowly became friends. Chris also got along with Squid right off the bat. He was always able to make everyone laugh…. He got the name Trip for constantly causing chaos and “trip” something up. 

Nate- Shade - 15 - Nate didn’t actually do anything wrong to get there but he just happened to look very shady and be in the worst spot possible when something was being stolen. Once at camp green lake the D-tent asked him what he did, they immediately thought he killed someone. When he told them the truth they just brushed him off saying he looked too shady to not have done something crazy. Of course the triplets believed him because they knew him. He got along with the boys well and became close friends with squid, magnet, and armpit….He of course earned the name Shade for looking shady as hell.

Extra info: 

When Stanley runs away to go after Zero, the triplets help distract Mr. Sir by starting a massive food fight in the mess hall.

Nick figures out something is weird about the digging pattern and begins mapping the holes….realizing they’re not random.

Matt tries to comfort Stanley when Zero ran off

Chris is the one who suggested they sing while digging to make things less painful and boring (if you don't know what im talking about…. listen to “dig it up”)

Even though being trapped at this place the triplets still felt happy that they all were there together

When the triplets saw Nate there they immediately made fun of him for the situation 

Triplets definitely have beef with Dr. Pendanski and make fun of him every second they can

not proof read

tags;@pair-of-pantaloons, @sturns-mermaid, @matt-sturnioloo

[illarian-rambling]

Because I'm bored, here's a definitive rating of canon and non-canon ships across my works!

(Based on what people have told me they shipped and what I think would be funny)

Starting with my big two canon ships:

Astra/Mashal - This is my ultimate otp, the one I wrote a whole trilogy for. They're fucking adorable together, in all their chaos/calm glory. 10/10 imo, they make each other want to be better people.

Nyda/Kaulakri - My lesbian scientist ghosts, how could I not love you? True rivals to lovers, they get on each others nerves as much as they admire each other. 9/10, only because I haven't actually gotten to a confession scene yet.

Short list, huh? That's why we've got non-canon:

Ivander/Mashal - The foils are foiling. Something, something, Mashal makes Ivander remember the world can be kind and Ivander is someone Mashal wants to protect. 7/10, it's good...

Astra/Ivander/Mashal - But it could be better! Astra adds in a note of tension with Ivander and a note of sweetness because she understands Mashal better than Ivander does. This ship is just Mashal and his two partners who kinda hate each other, 8/10.

Astra/Ivander - Without Mashal as a buffer, they're gonna tear each other into ribbons. 4/10, it'd be fun to watch.

Sepo/Izjik - No, pass, skip. I know they're soulmates but they've got more of a blood brothers vibe than anything. That said, they would totally get married for tax reasons, so 2/10.

Djek/Daedryn - I know she kidnapped him but she said sorry. The street rat/priest vibes would be funny, he'd take her out to a casino and she'd get tempted to cheat at cards them immediately pray for forgiveness. 5/10 because in all universes, Djek has no game.

Izjik/Daedryn - I know she kidnapped her too, but godkiller/priest?? The angst is baked in. Also, Izjik knows Daedryn is easily flustered, so she's just teasing her the whole time. 7/10 for doomed lesbians.

Elsind/Avymere - Hard no. Elsind might be deeply involved in Avymere's love life, but they're besties. Honestly, I can see them in a qpr as the years go on, they're very close. 10/10 for the qpr, 0/10 for anything romantic.

Daedryn/Loqang - For an antagonist/secondary protag, Daedryn sure ends up in a lot of ships. Loqang is her god so... No? There is a deep and passionate love there, beyond anything platonic or familial, but it's not really romantic either, more of a secret fourth thing. 4/10 for anything romantic though, the power dynamic would be kinda fucked.

Anarac/Faalgun - I can see how some people would get these vibes from their casino scene, but if anything, Anarac sees Faalgun as a son-figure and Faalgun sees Anarac as a member of his crew he wants to help out. 1/10 because a rebound might not be bad for Anarac, just not this rebound.

Nyda/Vermir - Canonically, this did happen. Two ambitious scientists who traveled a lot, who were alive in the same time period.... I don't think they had anything more than a fling, but it is fucking hilarious to think about. To be fully for real, Vermir might honestly have been pretty good for Nyda, in the sense of giving her a confident boost for her research. 7/10.

If you've got any other suggestions for ships I missed, I will rate them accordingly 🫡

Until then, have a bitchin day!

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @watermeezer

@leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @ray-writes-n-shit @evilgabe29

@trippingpossum @tragedycoded @halfbakedspuds @ominous-feychild @cain-e-brookman

@wyked-ao3 @thecomfywriter @mysticstarlightduck @rumeysawrites @the-golden-comet

@cowboybrunch @gioiaalbanoart @theink-stainedfolk @sableglass @thelaughingstag

@finickyfelix

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE MANAGER KIM HEADCANONS

Words cannot do justice how much I simp for this man, please why are the Lookism verse characters so good looking😭

With the sort of nonsense he's had to endure during his lifetime battling yakuza bosses and gangsters and unruly teenagers with the ego complex larger than Zeus himself, he has a pretty good reason to be protective and possessive and obsessive of you. The man here just wants to keep you safe at all costs no matter what and will do anything to ensure your safety, even if it means getting his hands dirty, for the sake of you to be happy. He just genuinely loves you. A lot to the extent that he's willing to murder people over it

He might have a stoic and aloof exterior and personality at times but he's a soft man at heart. He's someone who understands the passion of romance and he'll feel the flame of love igniting deep within his soul whenever he thinks of you. After all he's the one who's convinced Warren to love someone even if it's only temporary because in his opinion, a man truly becomes a beast and most powerful when he has a loved one to protect. This ex soldier here was quite lonely for a while without having a partner. He didn't really want to have a partner with raising his daughter Minji and him being worried about how she'd adapt to the new changes. However when Minji suggested he find himself a partner he was stunned to hear that from his daughter and decides to give it a shot anyway

A few days later he bumps into you, you work at the local bakery downtown and the second he steps inside your bakery, he's surrounded with warmth and the heavenly scent of baked goods lingering in the atmosphere as a soft smile forms on his face when his eyes land on you. You were busy baking some muffins and you had a pretty apron around your waist as you spotted him and waved towards him. When you smiled at him politely and greeted him and noted down his order, which was a red velvet cake with 2 blue berry muffins and 2 chocolate chip cookies, you mentioned that it might take a while to make. He didn't mind waiting honestly, it would give him an excuse to be in your bakery more and admire you. He struck up a light conversation with you and found growing attached to you rather quickly. However he did get slightly concerned when you told him that you lived alone, why would you live alone? There are so many dangerous things happening around the area in the country and you're living alone? That's something he's not too thrilled to hear about

You hand him his order in a box as your soft warm fingers brushes against his rough large calloused ones and he feels something warm creeping up inside him. A fuzzy warm feeling, a familiar spark and jolt of electricity and passion that he thought he might never get to feel before. His heart twinged slightly as he bade you a goodbye and sighed as he walked out of your bakery. However he started heading over to your bakery everyday, sometimes just to make conversation with you since he does find your company and presence rather pleasant. He doesn't want to burden you with the stories of his past from when he was Code 66 back during his military days nor does he want to tell you that he works at the white tiger job center for a certain fighting obsessed lunatic since he doesn't want to scare you off. He wants to protect you and shelter you from the bad things that keep happening. He can see the glimmer of innocence in your eyes, something that's quite rare these days since most people he's encountered were just plain egoistic corrupt people. But you're so different...a ray of sunshine in a dark world filled with chaos and entropy

He's an ex soldier with God tier fighting and detective skills. He'll ask Hansu to find out some information regarding you, ignoring the teasing from Jincheol about how he's fallen head over heels in love with you already. He just sighs and pointedly looks at him but he doesn't deny it. Hansu will end up finding everything about you in less than an hour and he'll have pages and pages of your biodata for Kim to take a look at. Kim knows he's being a bit out of line here but he just can't help but be curious. If you're in any kind of trouble or whatever he'll take care of the problem quickly. If someone's harassing after you or you have a creepy landlord, well good news for you because you don't need to pay your rent next month. Just ignore the broken bones and the bruises on the landlord given to him by a certain man who comes over to your bakery everyday

Have you seen this man fight? His kill ratio is insane, there's a reason people shiver when they're facing him against a fight. He might be soft and affectionate and warm towards you but when it comes to dealing with people to protect you, he'll be absolutely ruthless and will give zero damns who he's up against. He'll use his string and his fighting skills and put that person in the hospital for a while. Or just straight up murder them, depends on the sort of crime they do to you. Either way he will not relax or let it go if someone messes with you and harms even a single strand of hair on your pretty little head. When he goes on a murder rampage, not even Hansu and Jincheol would be able to stop him which is why they just let him do his own thing. Oh, and speaking of Hansu and Jincheol, congratulations, you now have them both looking out for you as well

His obsessive and possessive feelings for you would start when he feels like you're in danger from something. He'll invite you to stay over at his house for a few days and you can't even refuse him because the way he speaks will make you doubt yourself whether or not you're truly able to take care of yourself. You don't get a choice in this matter, you're staying with him and that's final. It's also a good time to introduce you to Minji. However little did you know, both father and daughter were obsessed with you. Minji greets you with a polite smile and she's finally glad she got to meet the person who's made her dad happy. She's another one who's willing to do whatever the hell it takes to ensure you'll stay with her dad. She's a sneaky one, if your coworkers are messaging you things she's not too pleased about, she'll sneakily delete their number from your phone and make it seem like you blocked them on social media. You're supposed to be with her dad, not some other undeserving person

Breakfast, lunch and dinner include you sitting with them and having your meal. Of course, no phone during that special time. Kim would love to do the cooking, he'll cook the best meals ever to ensure you have a good meal. He does get slightly tempted to embrace you from the back at times and kiss the nape of your neck softly while you're busy doing the dishes while Minji is secretly smirking to herself about how things are going well and how you're a part of their family now

If you try to go back to work, Kim might be a bit disgruntled at first but he'll allow you to do so to not seem controlling. However he'll fill your head with things like how you don't need to earn when he's there to take care of you and you could take a break for a while and such. He just wants to take care of you and shower you with his love. Minji would side with her dad too. They both are possessive over you, they know they're being possessive but they're overlooking it. It's for your safety after all. If you try leaving them, Minji would be hurt and upset and Kim would be hurt and devastated too. But he'd be determined to bring you back and it wouldn't take him long for him to find you. He'll just carry you in his arms and you can throw all the tantrums you want but he's not going to budge while he's taking you back home with him where you belong. He won't yell at you or raise his voice at you, he doesn't believe in hurting the ones he loves. But he'll gently chide you like a stern parent telling off a naughty child for their bad behavior. The next day the locks of the house will be changed and there'll be bars on the windows to prevent you from leaving

He's not completely heartless to prevent you from going outside either. He knows and understands you feel trapped which is why you'll still be allowed to go out. Provided it's with him or Minji. No more going out on your own, not even to the grocery store that's ten minutes away from the house either. However when it comes to someone taking you away from him...I want to say I hope they might be safe but who am I kidding at this point. He'll literally obliterate them from his path. How dare they mess with you, they'll literally pay with their lives. Or bones. He can't bear to see you cry, it hurts his heart. Minji and Kim would be on either side of you hugging you while you cry as Kim will gently brush away your tears and lovingly caress your cheek. You're his and he'd do anything to make sure it stays that way...

[saramurphy]

mistletoe hung where you can see

PnF Secret Santa gift for @humanperryfic! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy!

After years of never receiving a kiss under the mistletoe, Heinz Doofenshmirtz plans to take matters into his own hands. His nemesis has other ideas.

AO3 Link

The window to the scientist’s penthouse shattered, letting in a blast of cold air from the snowfall outside. In crashed the agent, known best to his nemesis by his first name and his animal code name.

“Ah, Perry the Platypus.”

The agent’s brown eyes locked onto the latest contraption which was on Heinz’s head, a red headband with a sprig of a particular winter plant hanging down from the front.

“Oh, I see you’ve taken note of my latest invention. Behold, the Mistletoe-inator! You see, my entire life, nobody has ever kissed me under the mistletoe. At every Christmas party, I’m stuck on the sidelines enjoying almond brittle, while the attractive people like my brother Roger get pulled in to share kisses underneath the mistletoe! Well, no more!”

Perry briefly glanced down to the floor, a pang in his heart over his nemesis’ desire for the slightest gestures of affection.

Heinz pointed to a button on the side of the headband. “With the mistletoe-inator, whoever I hit with this ray will have mistletoe appear above them, obligating the nearest person to share a kiss with them! Now, nobody will ever have to be unkissed at the holidays, not even me! The L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. party is this Friday night, and -

Heinz’ sentence was cut off as Perry lunged towards him, aiming to snatch off the Mistletoe-inator. Heinz had developed quick reflexes over their years of nemesis-ship and moved his head just enough to dodge Perry’s hand. Chaos ensued as Perry began to chase him, resulting in the teal-haired man tackling the evil scientist to the floor.

“Perry the Platypus, how dare you! All I’m trying to do is spread Christmas cheer through the joy of kissing.”

Perry finally got the upper hand as Heinz began to ramble, and he snatched the Mistletoe-inator off of Heinz’s head. He began to aim a finger towards its conveniently placed self-destruct button next to the mistletoe ray button. Suddenly, a smirk crossed the teal haired man’s face. Perry pinned himself a bit more firmly against Heinz, then leaned down and met Heinz’s lips with his.

The inator fell to the floor as Perry used both hands to cradle Heinz’s face as they both deepened the kiss.

Thwarting his nemesis could wait.

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 8)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2838

warnings/notes: n/a

Chapter 8: A Secret to Safeguard

The first rays of dawn filtered through the dense canopy. The golden light flickered across Bonnie’s serene face, illuminating her features with a soft glow that made the horrors of the preceding night seem like distant nightmares. As Bonnie began to stir, her eyelids fluttered like delicate butterfly wings, confusion and fear momentarily clouding her gaze as she adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings. The rustic cabin was filled with the scent of pine and earth, a stark contrast to the harsh metallic tang of blood and chaos that had marked their last location.

“Austin?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, fragile and uncertain in the quiet morning air.

He knelt beside the bed, his large hand taking hers, squeezing it gently. “Bonnie.”

Her eyes searched his face, desperate for reassurance. “What happened? I remember… pain…” Her voice broke as flashes of memory returned—sharp and disorienting.

Austin’s heart clenched at her confusion and fear, his resolve hardening. He couldn’t shield her from the truth forever. “You… transformed last night, Bonnie. For the first time. And then there was an incident.” Austin’s voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “Victor found us. He threatened to tell the whole pack about you. It... it got violent. You didn’t know what you were doing. You defended me—it was instinctual.”

Bonnie's breath hitched, her hand trembling within his grasp. "Did I... did I kill him?" Her voice was barely audible, a fearful whisper that echoed in the sparse cabin. The weight of her potential actions bore down on her, threatening to suffocate her newfound resolve.

Austin’s jaw tightened as he nodded slowly, confirming her fears. "It was self-defense, Bonnie. Victor was power-hungry and reckless. He would have hurt many, including you." His throat felt tight as he watched the horror unfold across Bonnie's features, her pale skin losing even more color.

She withdrew slightly, pulling her hand free from his. "I'm a monster," she murmured, curling into herself on the bed like a wounded animal seeking refuge from its own nature.

"No," Austin said firmly, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. "You are not a monster. You are strong, Bonnie. Stronger than you know." His voice softened as he added, "This world... It’s cruel and unforgiving, but you’re not alone in this."

Bonnie looked up at him then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How can I ever live with myself knowing what I've done?"

Austin leaned closer, his presence a sturdy reassurance. "You learn, you grow, and you survive," he said solemnly. "This is our reality, and while it’s brutal, it doesn’t define who we are. We define ourselves by how we handle these situations."

Bonnie bit her lip, considering his words through the fog of her turmoil. The moonlight filtered through the cabin window, casting silver streaks across the wooden floor and reflecting off Austin's intense eyes, making them appear almost ethereal. "I want to believe that," she finally whispered.

Austin moved closer, his hand steady on her back, grounding. "And you will," he acknowledged, his voice gritty with shared pain. "You need to hold on to the fact that you did what you had to do to protect yourself—and me."

There was a long silence filled only by the wind rustling against the cabin walls before Bonnie spoke again. "What about the pack? What if they find out?"

"That’s where I come in," Austin replied firmly, his protective instincts surging to the surface. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

His words were meant to comfort, but the gravity of their situation hung between them like thick smoke. Bonnie nodded slowly, absorbing his promise with a mixture of fear and relief.

The morning progressed, each minute stretching long and taut as Bonnie gradually adjusted to the light, both literal and metaphorical, of her new reality. Austin, meanwhile, was lost in thought, strategizing their next move. The gang would surely be stirring, questions would be asked, and Jerry’s suspicious nature would not make things any easier.

“I need to go back,” Austin said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for discussion. He stood up, pacing the small cabin with restless energy that seemed too expansive for the confined space. “I have to make sure the story about Victor is handled right. Can’t let rumors spread or they’ll come hunting.”

Bonnie’s heart sank at the thought of being left alone, but she understood the necessity of his departure. “Will they believe you?” Her voice sounded small in the vast wilderness that surrounded them.

“They’ll have to.” Austin’s response was gruff as he stopped his pacing to look down at her. “Jerry might push back, but Bear will stand by me. He knows what’s at stake.”

The mention of Bear brought a slight sense of relief. Robert "Bear" Johnson had always been a calming force within the turbulent dynamics of the gang.

“What should I do while you’re gone?” Bonnie asked, trying to mask her anxiety with a semblance of composure.

"Stay here, keep low, and don't open the door for anyone but me," Austin instructed, his voice firm yet coated with concern. He knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "I'll be back as soon as I can. If anything happens, if you feel threatened in any way, there’s a revolver under the floorboards by the bed. Use it only if you must."

Bonnie nodded solemnly, the weight of his directive cementing itself within her. The responsibility of self-defense was a chilling reminder of her new reality. "Okay," she whispered, trying to steady her trembling voice.

Austin's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, his gaze intense and probing. He cupped her face in his hands pulling her into a tender kiss. As their lips parted, Austin's gaze hardened once again with the reminder of the dangers that lay ahead. "Remember, trust no one," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken worries. He stood, adjusting the leather jacket that seemed to armor him against more than just the elements.

Outside, the wind had picked up, howling like the distant cousins of his kind, weaving through the dense trees that shrouded the cabin. He paused at the doorway, hand on the frame, and looked back at Bonnie. This glimpse of vulnerability was rare and fleeting but spoke volumes of his inner turmoil.

"I love you," he said simply, the words stark against the howling wind, before turning and stepping into the night.

Bonnie watched him disappear into the shadows, her heart aching with a mixture of fear and love. Left alone in the eerie stillness of their temporary sanctuary, she felt each creak and moan of the settling cabin amplify her anxiety. She moved to the window, peering out into the woods where shapes seemed to move with sinister fluidity between trees. Drawing the curtains quickly, she backed away from the window, suddenly aware of just how exposed they had been.

Meanwhile, Austin rode through the night, his sleek black motorcycle purring beneath him as it devoured the winding roads. The roar of the engine cut sharply through the stillness, echoing off the trees and sending shivers down his spine. His mind was in turmoil, a jumble of thoughts and emotions that matched the chaotic twists and turns of the road. Fear for Bonnie's safety gnawed at him like a relentless beast, drowning out any sense of calm or clarity that usually came with riding. But tonight, even the open road could not provide an escape from the relentless storm raging within him.

As he approached their secluded headquarters, the low murmurs of conversation and the occasional clatter of tools greeted him. The air was thick with tension, despite the everyday scene of bikes being tuned and polished. The scent of oil and grease hung in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of coffee brewing in a nearby corner. The sound of metal against metal echoed off the walls, creating a symphony of mechanics at work.

Jerry emerged from the shadows, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim light of the flickering bulbs in the garage. His face, usually unreadable, carried a hint of unease tonight. His eyes swept over the gang members busily engaged with their bikes before settling on Austin.

"Austin," Jerry called out, his voice low and urgent as he approached. The clatter around them seemed to momentarily fade into the background as tension knotted the air.

Austin turned, his expression shifting to one of guarded concern. "What's up, Jerry?"

"It's Victor," Jerry said, glancing around before continuing. "He hasn't shown up since last night's hunt. No one has seen him or heard from him."

Austin's heart hammered in his chest as he steadied his gaze, careful not to let the whirlwind of emotions betray him. "Is that so?" he responded, his voice even and controlled, masking the cold dread that snaked through him.

Jerry nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah, and you know Victor. He ain’t one to vanish without a word. Folks are starting to ask questions." His tone was accusatory, a sharp edge cutting through the rumble of engine noise surrounding them.

Austin leaned back against his bike, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Victor's probably laying low for some reason. You know how he gets—always up to something." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he knew maintaining composure was crucial.

Jerry watched him closely, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "Maybe," he conceded grudgingly.

"But we need to be sure. The pack can't afford to have loose ends." His stance was rigid, mirroring the severity of the situation. The garage seemed to shrink with the weight of his words, enclosing them in a silent pact of suspicion and duty.

Austin nodded, understanding the implications. "I'll handle it," he asserted firmly, hoping to dispel any further doubts Jerry might harbor. "Give me till tomorrow. I’ll sort something out." He knew he had to tread carefully, balancing the lie about Victor with the need to protect Bonnie and maintain his authority within the gang.

Jerry's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he grunted, seemingly appeased for the moment. "Alright," he said finally, stepping back into the shadowed periphery of the garage. "But keep me posted. We can’t let this slide."

As Jerry walked away, Austin felt the pressure mounting. He needed to weave his stories carefully now, more than ever. The gang’s stability, and more critically, Bonnie’s safety depended on it.

Turning away from Jerry’s retreating figure, Austin clenched his jaw, the muscles working under his skin as he calculated his next move. He knew that Jerry's eyes would be on him like a hawk on its prey, watching for any sign of faltering. Walking over to where Bear was adjusting the chain on his bike, Austin tapped his shoulder.

Bear looked up, his large eyes serious and wary beneath bushy eyebrows. "Everything alright, boss?" he asked, his voice low under the din of the garage.

Austin glanced around to make sure they were out of earshot from anyone else. "No, it’s not," he admitted in a hushed tone. "Jerry’s sniffing around about Victor. He hasn't shown up since last night, and you know how suspicions get around here."

Bear wiped his greasy hands on a rag, concern etching his face. "Victor's missing?" he paused, weighing his words carefully.

"Something like that, and it's turning into a problem." Austin said, his voice tense with urgency.

Bear nodded slowly, his expression grave. "What do you need from me?"

Austin looked around again, his piercing eyes scanning the dimly lit garage filled with the soft clatter of tools and the occasional rev of a motorcycle engine. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further. "I need you to come over tonight. Make sure no one follows you. It’s important that this stays between us for now."

Bear’s brow furrowed in concern, but he gave a firm nod of understanding. "I’ll be there," he assured Austin, clapping him on the shoulder with a heavy, reassuring hand.

As Bear walked away to gather his things, Austin felt a momentary relief before the weight of his responsibilities settled back onto his shoulders. He knew that involving Bear was risky, but the stakes were high, and he couldn't manage everything on his own anymore.

The garage was closing down for the night as Austin mounted his bike. The cool night air brushed against his face as he kick-started the engine, the rumble blending with a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

He rode back through the dark, winding roads towards the cabin where Bonnie waited. Each turn in the road was familiar, yet tonight they felt unusually menacing, as if each shadow held a threat. The weight of his secrets and the safety of his pack felt heavier than ever as he accelerated, the bike's headlights slicing through the darkness.

Stay tuned for part 9!! Click HERE to view!

Taglist: @droopycoquette