#5-10 business days to let this one sink in

[yeyinde]

Lev!!! you cannot just post that masterpiece and dip. I cannot breathe. I'm grinning like a fucking baffon in my room and thank god it's sunday or else I sure would've call in sick. I'm not kidding. I have no self control and I would've read this at my workplace and God, I don't want to picture me squirming in my seat with a 60yr old woman sitting 2 feet away.

the way you write, smut or not, you include these tiny little details that people wouldn't notice, not even in real life, not even during that particular moment of ecstacy and somehow make it even more smuttier(?). it's never in and out with a grunt here and growl there with your works. it's a whole fucking experience and I have to have a mini freak out and mentally prepare myself before I read any of your work. your single fic is better than many published books I've read.

God, I would love to sit inside your brain and intercept every single one of your tho(ugh)t processes, analyze why you decided to put one particular word over another and such (also I was picturing Price on all fours until you mentioned that he was on his back. what's your thought process there?).

anyway, I'll rb your fic after I have an another proper meltdown so that I can get access to some coherent thoughts and the ability to string words together.

p.s:(I would very much like to deck that one editor that told me fanfic is not real writing and shove this masterpiece down their throat)

p.p.s: I get anxious when I send ask without anon ( don't know why) but I really wanted to send that pic cause that's what it looked like when you posted it.

p.p.p.s: (this is the last one promise) were you listening to purity ring when you wrote it? why that song? sorry for the long ass ask.

OMGGGGGGG for some reason, this does not show up on tumblr mobile - which is what I primarily use unless I'm posting a fic! So I am so so so sorry it took so long for me to reply!!

And AHHHHHH!! This is too much for me, honestly! You're way too nice about the rampant filth I write!!!! I had so many emotions reading this that I can't even begin to process ANY of them!! THANK YOU!!!

As for some of the questions posed:

With Price, I tried to be as true to his character (or the way I perceive his character) as I could be when I wrote this. I know it's just smut, and pegging smut at that!, but I like realism in whatever I read and since I usually write stuff that I like, I needed to include it. It had to make sense to me. I don't think Price would do this with just anyone, but if he mentioned it - he wants it. He was fairly confident through the whole thing, whereas MC was freaking out. I liked the contrast between their characters.

I don't think he'd be inclined to be on his knees for the first time. It would be something he needs to build up to before he gives up that aspect of himself. This was already quite a heavy experience, and so. It just made sense to me that he'd be on his back, with MC over him so he can watch their expressions, and take in the experience as it flickers over their face.

It's also infinitely more intimate, which is what - in Price's head - was the goal?? Like, it was a hot moment, but it was also fostering more trust, and taking a deeper plunge into their relationship. It delves into this a bit more at the end when MC finally has a moment to step away from "JESUS I AM "BALLS" DEEP INSIDE CAP PRICE RIGHT NOW" and look at things with a wider perspective.

It also gives him a modicum of control as well. Which, I think is the basal aspect of his character.

That's quite wordy for what this fic is, OMG. That's sort of what I volleyed back and forth in my head before writing this one.

And I was listening to Purity Ring!!! I rediscovered them through Letterkenny and this song is quite intense to me. The lyrics are just so PERFECT. All of my fics have connecting songs to them that either set the tone when I was writing or explore a different facet of what I want to convey through the lyrics. Usually, it's just atmosphere, but for Fineshrine - it was both!

Ahh, I get so nervous when stuff gets so wordy!!!!! Sorry for the spiel!

This was such a lovely message, and I am so gutted I only found it now. Thank you so much! It genuinely baffles me when people take an interest in my thoughts behind the smut, but this absolutely made my entire week. I will not stop thinking about this - I just know it. AHHHHHH. You're way too sweet!!!!

#OMGGGGG #gonna cry #gonna need #at MINIMUM #5-10 business days to let this one sink in #captain john price

[xzhdjsj]

Iron on my Tongue

Isaac x Reader

Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)

Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character

@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.

They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.

I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live.  It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."

I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.

There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.

I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.

"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.

My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.

I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.

"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"

I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.

I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.

4:55

I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.

I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.

5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.

5:07

That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it.  I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.

It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.

There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.

Same as before, it rings but no answer.

I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.

The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.

I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.

The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.

“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”

I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?

“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.

I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.

They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.

I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.

“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”

“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”

I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”

“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.

“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.

It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?

Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.

“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”

I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.

“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”

“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”

“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.

“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.

 “Isaac, I love you”

“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.

“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”

Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”

“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.

“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.

We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.

I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.

I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.

I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.

I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.

#oh look its more isaac angst! #zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #isaac #isaac rhoades

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (Catnip) - part 10

First|Masterlist

It was near noon. Tim was in civilian dress outside of Jason’s door. He took at deep breath. Worrying did not help. It did not help to think about the fact that Jason had pointed a gun at Bruce last night. That he had looked very close to pulling the trigger.

It wasn’t that Tim hadn’t noticed something was up with Jason. Of course he’d noticed, a blind man would have noticed. But this was Jason, something was regularly up with Jason. And like when wasn’t his relationship with Bruce strained? Basically never? 

But things had been getting better. Jason had stopped crime-lording, left that to his lieutenants, who as long as they followed the rules, operated relatively unmolested in Crime Alley. It worked. He kept apart, but he was on the same comms as them. He helped out if there was trouble. He cared, they all knew he did. Even if things were still hard. 

It was a bit back and forth but generally the relationship between the bats and Red Hood had been getting better - like the overall trend, Tim had a graph. There was a prognosis that Jason may join them for Sunday dinners in a couple of years. So it was not so weird that Jason had been drawing back, Tim had assumed that was just some of the regular fluctuation that happened now and again. 

But this?

Jason pointing a gun at Bruce?

That was more than just a fluctuation! That was something else, and it all lead back to Jason meeting the Ghost about 5 weeks ago. Jason had been odd that night, there had been something uncertain, hesitant, about him. Tim had brushed it off at the time, there could be any manner of reason for Jason to act a bit off, guilt being the obvious one. Jason for all his gruffness did not like accidental violence, his violence had a purpose and was doled out to those he deemed deserving. 

At one point that had been Tim. 

That thought sat heavy in his chest as he took another deep breath. 

Was he the best person to do this? No, probably not. But someone needed to do it. Dick was on a Justice League mission halfway around the world. Cass would probably have been safest, least likely to piss Jason off, but Tim couldn’t outsource this. Tim needed to talk to Jason, to assess him himself. 

Finally, heart steeled, he knocked on the door. 

There was movement inside, footsteps coming to the door. There was a rumble in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text:

You should not be here.

Tim scowled at the door. “I am not leaving. I need to talk to you.”

There was a moment of silence that dragged. Tim would wait out here all day if he had to, he was stubborn like that and Jason knew it, which is why eventually the sound of the locks turning reached him. Tim carefully kept the victory out of his face. 

Jason didn’t meet his gaze as he let him in and locked the door behind him. He didn’t bother to reset the traps. Instead he padded barefoot over to the kitchen counter.

“Coffee?” He asked, voice scratchy.

Tim didn’t respond immediately eyes too busy following the small trail of blood Jason left behind where he stepped. 

“Tim?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Jason’s tired eyes. 

“You know me,” Tim finally responded weakly. Jason looked… sick, was probably the best word. He was pale, the bags under his eyes so dark they looked bruised. His hair was unwashed and there was something about the weariness in his posture that made him look small in his loose t-shirt and sweatpants. 

Something about the image deeply alarmed Tim and he retreated with a, “I’ll just use the bathroom real quick.”

He noticed the crunch under his shoes even before he saw the broken mirror over the sink; that explained why Jason’s feet were bleeding. Fuck. He sank down onto the closed lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands. This was so much worse than he’d thought. Tim could handle anger, not whatever that was.

“Fuck,” he repeated his earlier thought, quietly and emphatically. Then stood, flushed and washed his hands, to keep up appearances - for something to do. Stalling didn’t help.

He walked back out to find Jason sitting at the small kitchen table with two cups of coffee, one of them placed in front of the empty seat across from him.

Tim sat down and picked up the mug with both hands. He sniffed the rich aroma before taking a sip, Jason had great coffee.

“What do you want, Tim?”

Tim looked up and opened his mouth to reply, something, a deflection, but Jason didn’t let him.

“You’re obviously not here for my sake, so cut to the chase.”

Tim’s mouth clapped shut and his lips thinned. Outrage burst in his chest at the implication that he didn’t care. But Jason was right. He wasn’t here to check on Jason for his sake, he was here to assess him. To make sure what happened last night would not happen again. He was there for them, for the mission, not for Jason. 

Jason was right and it stung. 

Well far be it for Tim to further try to delude them both. 

“I need you to stay away from the Ghost.”

“Like Hell!” Jason snarled jumping to his feet, and there was the Jason Tim had expected, and he held the instinctive fear in an iron grip, not letting it reach his face. There was only a tiny tremble as he brought the cup back up to his lips.

Jason paced. Then turned on Tim, eyes with just a hint of the green they didn’t talk about.

“You cannot bench me,” he spat.

“I’m not. I’m asking you, Jason.” Tim carefully set down the cup.

Jason frowned and this was the one chance Tim had to convince him, he had to make it count.

“He disappears as soon as you get within 20 yards of him. I will figure out a way to capture him, but I cannot do that when he keeps disappearing. I need you to hang back.”

Jason was wavering, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“Please.” Finally Jason sighed and the weariness was back, he sat back down heavily. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke quietly, “he needs help, Tim.”

Tim didn’t know what made Jason so certain of that, but Jason didn’t know what Tim suspected either, what the ghost could be building. 

“But first he needs to be stopped.”

There was a long moment of silence...

“I’ll hang back.”

“Thanks.”

-

Taadaa! The misery continues... Things will be coming to a head soon, I don't know if you can feel it? I just have to write a small Danny POV, and then Tim coming up with the plan and then we'll get into it, it's exciting.

If you wanna subscribe to the story you can do so here

#dp x dc #dead on main #Jason is catnip to Danny #missed connections

[scuderiahoney]

I WANT YOUR MIDNIGHTS BLURB #5

MIDNIGHT DO-OVER // OSCAR PIASTRI

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

The party is clearing out. You breathe a soft sigh of relief. It had been fun, but it’s nearing 2am, and you’re exhausted. You’d have gone home already if you could, but you’re staying at Oscar’s apartment in the guest room. Up until 10 minutes ago, said guest room was occupied with everyone’s coats. There’s still one in there. Someone will probably claim it tomorrow.

You’re standing at his kitchen counter, scrubbing something sticky off the granite. Probably champagne- you can vaguely remember someone letting out a yelp just before midnight, and a scramble to refill a glass. You yawn, leaning on the edge of the countertop.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Oscar says from the doorway of the kitchen.

For the first time in hours, it’s just you and him. You’d both been so busy hosting the party that you’d barely seen him. You wonder, momentarily, where he was when the clock struck midnight. Did he kiss someone? Maybe the girl you overheard talking about him earlier in the night? You scrub the counter harder.

“It’ll just get stickier overnight,” you tell him.

He hums and walks closer. “Come on. You didn’t come all the way here to spend it cleaning my counters.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. He grabs your wrist, pulls the sponge from your fingers, and drops it in the sink.

“Seriously,” he says. “That’s a shit way to start your year.”

You laugh as he pulls you out of the kitchen. He flops down onto the sofa, and you follow suit. His arm rests on the back of the couch, fingers almost brushing your shoulder. You pull one knee up to your chest.

“Did you have a good time?” He asks, voice soft.

You nod. “Yeah, Oz, of course I did. Did you?”

He nods. “Couldn’t find you, though. At midnight.”

“I was on the balcony, I ended up in the corner,” you tell him. Then you blink. “What were you doing looking for me, anyways? Weren’t you busy, didn’t you have some pretty girl to be kissing?”

Oscar is staring at you, brown eyes soft and wide. Suddenly, your heart twists in your chest. His hand slides off the back of the couch, fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. It’s so quiet in the apartment that you can hear his breaths.

“Why do you think I was looking for you?” He asks.

Your heart kicks up in your chest, face growing hot. “Me?”

He nods. “You know, all day, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About midnight and fresh starts and… I wanted it to be you. But I was scared.”

You swallow, dart your gaze to the clock. “It’s 1:59,” you tell him.

His face falls. “It’s late, huh. Sorry, I-“

“No, it’s- it’s 1:59, which is 11:59 somewhere, right?” You’re trying not to hold your breath. “It’s almost midnight somewhere-“

He turns to look at the clock just as the numbers change. Before you can blink, he’s leaning in. He cups your face in his hands, gently, and presses his lips to yours. It’s sweet and soft, like you’ve always imagined. His thumb strokes your cheek as he pulls away, his own cheeks bright pink. There are no fireworks outside, no champagne toasts, no announcer on the TV, but it’s perfect because it’s him. It was too short, that’s the only thing wrong with the kiss.

“Happy New Year,” he says breathily.

You just lean back in and kiss him again.

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me

#oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #formula 1 blurbs #formula 1 fluff #Oscar piastri #f1 x reader #f1 blurbs #op81 #honeywrites #IWYM blurbs

[noosayog]

[1:35AM] your meet ugly with Iwaizumi Hajime

wc: 800

noos's notes: My first fic on tumblr :') There's technically no mention of Iwa's name in this, so pls imagine your fav if you'd like. But I wrote this with him in mind!

You were returning from a week-long business trip and your flight had landed just after midnight. After your roommate picked you up from the airport, you wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, sink into bed, and be unconscious for the next 10 hours. The last thing you needed was arriving home to a car you’ve never seen before blocking your driveway. 

Exhausted and slightly annoyed, you and your roommate rang your neighbors’ doorbells in hopes that there would be a quick fix. 

30 minutes and 5 doorbells later, not one of your neighbors had claimed the car. Your patience was thinning and slight annoyance became acute irritation. You and your roommate sat back in your double-parked car, on hold with the tow truck company. Suddenly, one of your neighbors, a sweet elderly man you’ve waved to on occasion, knocked on your window. 

“I called the guy who lived across the street,” he pointed at an orange house across the street. “And sounds like he’s got a couple of friends over tonight. Said the car is one of his friend’s and he’ll come move it now.” 

You thanked your neighbor and your roommate hung up the line with the towing company. A part of you was disappointed. This asshole deserved to have his car towed. You waited for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes but you were tired and angry and irritation was building with every second that passed. 

Finally, a man emerged from the orange house and you got out of the car to get a better look. He was tall and you would be remiss if you didn’t acknowledge that he was good-looking. He walked over to the driver’s seat of his car where you were impatiently tapping your feet and uttered a light-hearted apology with a little chuckle. 

Like this whole situation was funny. 

Maybe it was the long flight. Maybe it was the exhausting trip. Maybe it was just him. But at that moment, your patience finally snapped. 

“What, you think this is funny or something?” 

With this hand on the opened door, he blinked back at you. A pause. “No, I-” 

“Because I’m not laughing. It’s already really fucking inconsiderate of you to be blocking someone’s driveway and obstructing their day and you’re laughing? We could have just called the towing company instead of ringing doorbells at one AM in the morning but we did that because we have some sense of human decency.” 

“Look, I-” 

“I’m not done. I’ve never seen you around here before and I don’t know if you just moved or you’re just visiting your friend that lives there but I better never see you and your stupid car in front of my driveway again. And next time, I won’t just call the towing company, I’ll fucking key your car, slash the tires, and egg your fucking house!” 

You were yelling at this point, your sweet elderly neighbor was watching you in horror, and your roommate still sitting in the car had her eyes wide, but you didn’t care. Without letting him get a word in, you stomped back to your car, got in the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut. A couple of minutes later, your driveway was cleared and your roommate was pulling into your garage. You went straight to bed. 

In the morning, you feel regret. Sure, the tall, bulging-biceps guy was to blame, but you didn’t have to pop off on him like that. Either way, your neighbor mentioned that he was a friend of the guy who lived there so you’d probably never have to see him again anyway. 

Naturally, things never work out that way so you run into him on your way out to grab coffee and some groceries. You stare for a couple of seconds, unsure if you should apologize or just walk away. You opt for, “I won’t actually key your car or egg your house.” 

He raises a brow. “So you’ll slash my tires?” 

Here you were, trying to genuinely apologize (though you might not be doing a good job of it), and he was making things harder. You should have known, given the way he was laughing last night. You were about to give him a piece of your mind again but he beat you to it. 

“It’s just a joke. Last night was completely my bad and I hope you can forgive me for it. Especially since…” he trails off. 

You tilt your head, waiting for him to finish. 

He takes a breath. “Especially since I was hoping to take you out for coffee. To apologize. And maybe like a date.” 

You’re sure your mouth is wide open now. You definitely remember screaming his head off last night. You’re not sure in what sense you could have seemed attractive in that light. 

He shrugs like he knows what you’re thinking. “The way you were yelling at me was kinda hot and I’m really hoping to redeem myself.” 

You let your mind catch up with the situation and mentally lay out the facts. One, he is undeniably good-looking. Two, you’ve shown him possibly your worst side and he still wants to take you out. Three, well, there is no three, but the first two facts are compelling enough, you think. So you say yes.

#noos writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq imagines #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi hcs #iwaizumi headcanons

[cosmerelists]

More Ways for Hoid to be Tortured

[Includes a spoiler for Tress!]

Hoid has sure had it rough lately. He’s had his memories siphoned off, gotten cursed, even spent some quality time as a coatrack. As @kingjasnah points out in this post, Sanderson is setting a precedent here: we’re all expecting ever new and more hilarious shit to happen to Hoid.

So here are some ideas for ways that Hoid might suffer in future Cosmere books.

1. Trapped in a dimension full of talking bananas...who don’t care about stories

Hoid: And that was the story of the banana who looked up.

Banana 1: [yawning]

Banana 2: Sorry, did you say something? I was thinking about radishes.

Banana 3: I feel so neutral about everything you said!

Hoid: ...I may have found a place nearly as unpleasant as Komashi. 

Hoid: Nearly.

2. A new and ever weirder food craving every day.

Hoid: Well, it seems that today I can stomach nothing except mayonnaise-topped pickles.

Design: And you’re sure you’re not pregnant?

3. Trapped on a planet during a time of no plot relevance 

Design: Hey, will you look at that!

Design: According to the town newspaper, old lady Dennis FINALLY figured out who’s been eating her lettuce. 

Design: Get this--it was a rabbit!

Design: That’s something, right?

Hoid: W-Was it an invested rabbit?

Design: Nope! Just a normal one.

Hoid (sinking further into his turtleneck): I have GOT to get my Luck back.

4. Can only communicate via song...after losing his perfect pitch 

Hoid (singing): And thus you should learn, / that if I must, I will let this planet buuuuuuurn!

Design: Your pitch is off by a mere .0005%!

Hoid (singing): And it’s really not fair--this much is true, / that my perfect pitch, went straight to yooooou!

5. Turned into a rat

Rat-Hoid: The worst part is...it’s not even original.

6. De-Aged into a Child

Hoid: It’s not so bad, really.

Hoid: People perhaps don’t take me the most seriously, but then, I was the King’s Wit for a while so I’m used to that.

Hoid: ...I do hear the word “precocious” a lot. 

7. De-Aged into a Baby

Hoid: (furiously signing with his fat baby hands) What is this, an isekai?!

Design: Hmmm...I should start a babysitting business. 

8. Unable to respond to anyone unless his response rhymes

Design: I love it, to be orange.

Design: If I ever need some peace and quiet, I just end every sentence with “orange.” 

Hoid: Once again I must ask you to act a bit less like a poison-filled sporange. 

Design: It’s fun to watch him incorporate that word into all of his sentences!

9. Grows to the size of a mountain

Hoid: It’s not (ouch) that I mind (ouch) the mountain-climbing business that Design (ouch) is running.

Hoid: But the constant (ouch) pick-axes driving into my shins (ouch) does get a tad...distracting.

Hoid: (ouch)

10. Handcuffed to Kelsier, ala Light & L

Kelsier: [eyes gleaming]

Kelsier: And this time you can’t escape me, Drifter!

Hoid: Hey, is that a spike in your eye, or are you just happy to see me?

Kelsier: ...

Kelsier: T-That doesn’t even make any sense!

Hoid: ...This might actually be fun.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Hoid #Design #Kelsier

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Movie 2: Super Hero (3/5)

"What are any of us doing here? We're not even in this movie!"

So the Red Ribbon Army is trying to stage a comeback with a fresh crop of new androids, and Goku isn't around to stop them, because he's on Beerus' planet training with Vegeta and Broly. While Piccolo figures out what to do without them, the movie just goes ahead and shows us what Goku is up to. For about ten minutes.

I'm pretty sure this part of the movie is a concession to Goku's fans. Let's face it, the people love Goku, and to do a Dragon Ball movie with no Goku at all would be a risky proposition, no matter how good that movie is. Looking back at the old DBZ films, Movies 9, 10, and 11 were mostly Goku-free, but he still put in a brief appearance in each one. But those are also regarded as some of the worst entries in the series, and I don't think that's a coincidence.

Now, I'm a fan of Dragon Ball in general, so the idea of a Piccolo and Gohan movie is not only appealing to me, but I'd say it's long overdue. I'd take a Yamcha/Tien movie any day. Or a Launch standalone film. I sat through GT, so it'd take a lot to keep me out of the theater. But Toei's trying to run a business here, and they can't just depend on die-hards like me to bring in the ticket revenue. So I'm sure the decision to focus on Piccolo was a controversial one in the home office. But they probably reached a compromise by giving Goku a decent chunk of screentime as a make-good.

One thing that makes this movie so good is that they don't just toss out a character for the sake of having them in the movie. They actually take a moment to show what that character is doing these days, even if it doesn't affect the plot that much. That's important, because it lets the viewer come away feeling like they got something out of the cameo they just saw. For example, we've seen Goku and Vegeta on Beerus' planet before. This is nothing new, but this time Goku's trying to help Broly control his power. And Vegeta's trying to meditate so he can learn how to imitate Jiren's power. Goku doesn't really understand his approach, which goes to show that Vegeta's trying to push beyond the scope of the training they've done on Beerus's planet before now. Gohan is studying ants, Videl has her combat sports class, Piccolo's a homeowner, etc.

Compare this to Battle of Gods, for example. Now BoG's a good movie, don't get me wrong, but a lot of the characters who appear in the film are utterly wasted. Tien shows up but he looks and acts exactly the same as he did the last several times we've seen him. Then he shows up in Resurrection F and nothing's changed either. He says he left Chiaotzu and Yamcha behind for the big fight, but would it matter either way? If they showed up, they wouldn't do anything new with those guys either.

The trick is to not just put Ox King in your movie, but to have him mention something that he's gotten up to lately, something Ox King fans can mull over later. "Oh, hey, remember how Ox King said he was going back to school to get a sociology degree?" You can sink your teeth into that, even if that's the only thing that you find out about from him. It's a lot better than "It's Bulma's birthday, and one of the guests is Ox King, a character who certainly exists."

Let's talk about Vegeta's revelation in this movie, since it caused some commotion among the fans. Goku complains that Vegeta had just been sitting still lately, which he thinks is a waste of time. Vegeta explains that he's been studying the way Jiren fought during the Tournament of Power. While he dominated Goku and Vegeta--sometimes both at once-- Vegeta is certain that Jiren isn't that much stronger than they are. What made Jiren so tough to deal with was that he was completely relaxed until the very moment he chose to strike, which allowed him to put all of his power into those brief offensive moments. But since Vegeta can't do that himself, he's trying to train his mind to conceptualize it before he tries to make his body learn how.

So a lot of fans saw this and concluded that the studio hates Goku, or they think Goku's an idiot, or that the studio is stupid for failing to remember that Goku has meditated before in the past. There has always been a subset of the fanbase that tries to turn everything into a Manichean conflict between Goku and Vegeta. In this case, if Vegeta figures something out before Goku does, then it means that Toei or Shueisha or Akira Toriyama himself must hate Goku.

This is stupid on the face of it, because Akira Toriyama literally created the character and he's credited with the screenplay for this movie. If he truly despised Goku, why would he even have Goku in the movie at all? He could have killed him off a long time ago. Why even make a Dragon Ball movie when he could have been working on some Dr. Slump project instead?

All this scene is... and I promise you, it's nothing more to it..., is a exploration of what the boys are doing on Beerus' planet. They train here, of course. We've seen that before, but why are they training here? Well, they need to receive instructions and guidance from Whis, and this is where Whis lives. Okay, and why is Whis so important to the process? Why can't they just stay on Earth and spar like they used to do? Because that only gets them so far. They need to learn new ways of thinking in order to surpass the level they're already at.

And what does that mean exactly? Well, they can't just do a million pushups. It doesn't work that way. There's other things they have to figure out, and that requires them to think of things they hadn't thought of before. And Whis is already beyond them in terms of power, so he knows things that they're still struggling to grasp. But Whis can't just spell it out for them. He can describe what they need to do, but it's still up to Goku and Vegeta to understand and internalize it.

And that's what they're doing here. They're basically brainstorming ways to get stronger. This time, Vegeta had an idea, and he's following it to see where it leads. Whis approves, so he seems to be on the right track. Tomorrow, maybe Goku will have another good idea, and so on.

But it's not always going to be one or the other who has the breakthrough. And it would be stupid for them both to have the same idea at the same time, just so the partisan fans won't feel slighted. Goku seems to think he can get a lot out of working with Broly, but that hasn't paid off just yet. It might prove more productive than what Vegeta is working on at the moment, but there's only one way to find out.

As far as Goku failing to recognize the value of meditation, well, he's had to re-learn that lesson several times. People will point to the time he meditated in Otherworld, or the time he meditated during his training with Mr. Popo, but they forget that this sort of focus and concentration was part of his training with Master Roshi as well. Whis scolded both Goku and Vegeta on this point when they first trained with him in Resurrection F. We can draw one of two conclusions here.

Goku's quest for greater strength is a flat circle. He just keeps re-discovering the same fundamentals, making a big gain in power, and then forgetting how he achieved that improvement.

Akira Toriyama is recycling the same martial arts hokum over and over again, because he only needs to show the characters working for greater strength. He does not need to design a genuine and internally consistent system for fantasy martial arts, any more than the writers of Star Trek need to explain how dilithium crystals make the ship go.

Anyway, Whis proposes a Goku/Broly/Vegeta three-way match, but no one wants Broly to fight in case he flips out and wrecks the entire planet. Then Beerus wakes up and finds out he has new houseguests. Goku explains that this is a good place to hide Broly from Frieza, and before Beerus can object, he meets Lemo and samples his cooking. It's good, so Beerus decides he can stay. Then Cheelai walks by with a bag full of loot she stole from Beerus' home. But Beerus decides he likes Cheelai's looks, so he agrees to let her stay too. So that's decided.

I've also seen some fans gripe about how Cheelai didn't spend much time with Broly in this movie, and Beerus' crush on Cheelai muddies the waters further. Look, none of these characters got a lot of screen time in this movie. This scene could be cut entirely and you wouldn't miss a thing. Half of it is Goku sparring with Vegeta, so of course Broly and Cheelai weren't going to have a whirlwind romance in this thing.

All I know for certain is that Cheelai walked by Broly and went out of her way to say he was "looking good", which is a lot more than she complimented anyone else on this planet. I mean, she's stealing Beerus' stuff, which ought to tell you how much she's into his lanky purple ass.

Moving on, Whis still wants to do that sparring match, if only so Broly can learn to appreciate a high-level battle with the fighters maintaining control of their powers. But Goku wants to eat first and so they stop for lunch.

And yeah, then this movie up and decides to give us Goku/Vegeta III, just like that. I don't want to oversell it, but it's an excellent fight. Whis sets the ground rules to that transformations and ki blasts are forbidden, so in a lot of ways this looks a lot like the kind of battle they might have had at the 25th Budokai before Babidi's henchmen got involved. We only get to see a few minutes of it, but they're so evenly matched that the fight takes a really long time to settle, so maybe it's just as well.

Beerus notes that Vegeta's moves have changed in an almost imperceptible way, due to his recent meditation training. Still, he loses interest in the fight and decides to get ice cream while the boys slug it out. I'm pretty sure Cheelai never cared in the first place, but Broly is enthralled with this action. He's getting to watch two of the greatest Saiyans ever put on a clinic, and he's soaking it up like a sponge.

But the important thing, at least as far as this movie goes, is that Beerus tosses an empty ice cream carton onto Whis' staff, so no one notice it flashing when Bulma tries to call him.

Which means Piccolo's on his own, at least for the time being. He gets the news from Bulma while he's picking up some senzu beans from Korin. The situation looks pretty bad, since Piccolo estimates that the Gammas' power is roughly on par with Goku and Vegeta's. And Dr. Hedo might know 17 and 18's weak spots, so they might not be able to help either. There is Majin Buu, though...

.... ha ha ha! No, did you think this one was going to be any different? Buu's sleeping through this crisis too. Seriously, why did they keep him alive at the end of the Buu Saga if no one had any plans to use him for anything?

So what about Gohan? That's what Korin asks, but Piccolo just says they can't count on Gohan right now, which... ouch.

But Piccolo does have one other idea, and so he flies up to see Dende on the Lookout and asks him to draw out his hidden power. See, the Kami of Planet Namek, Grand Elder Guru, was able to power up Krillin and Gohan way back in the day. Now, Dende is the Kami of Earth, so Piccolo figures Dende could do the same for him.

Only, no, it doesn't work that way. Turns out a Dragon-Type Namekian has to reach a certain age before they can use that sort of ability, and Dende's too young. On the other hand, Dende suggests using the Dragon Balls to solve the problem. They could simply wish away the Red Ribbon Army, but Piccolo doesn't care for that idea. Okay, well what about using Shenron to draw out Piccolo's hidden power? Can Shenron do that? Dende's like "gimme a minute."

So Dende wheels out the cart with the model of Shenron on it, and he powers a flask of water on the model. This makes it glow, and somehow upgrades Shenron so that he can grant a wish to draw out a person's hidden powers. Piccolo remarks that he had no idea any of this was possible when he was Kami. To be fair, when Piccolo was Kami, he didn't even know he was a Namekian, so there's a lot of stuff he was out of the loop for.

Now all Piccolo needs is the Dragon Balls, but Dende tells him that Bulma probably has them already. Ever since Frieza came back, Bulma's been gathering up the Dragon Balls every year, using the wishes up so that they'll be inactive in case any bad guys try to use them. Piccolo calls to ask her and yes, she has the whole set. In the dub, he asks her how many she has and she's like "Oh, uh.... All of them?!" I can't be sure, but I think that's a reference to the "All of them?" line from the dub of Dragon Ball, when Piccolo tried to zap Goku, but he missed all his vital organs. Anyway, Piccolo tells her to hang on to the balls until he gets there.

So they summon Shenron and it works. Piccolo gets stronger, and the Dragon promises that he threw in "a little extra".

That still leaves two wishes to use, so Bulma asks for a nicer ass and slightly longer eyelashes. Then she realizes -- too late-- that they could have wished to bring Goku and Vegeta back to Earth. Whoops.

"Shenron, I wish for you to bring Goku and Vegeta to Earth, so that they might bear witness to all this junk within my trunk."

So Piccolo returns to the Red Ribbon base and just walks right back to the line of soldiers there in Magenta's command room. They're still talking, and Piccolo tells the other soldiers he had to go potty. No one suspects a thing.

Magenta's trying to figure out what to do next. He'd like to target Goku and Vegeta, but no one knows where they are. Mr. Satan is too risky, since no one seems to know what his powers are, exactly. Then Carmine suggests Gohan be the next target. His intel says that it was Gohan who defeated Cell, and he has lots of spy footage of Piccolo going to his house to visit, which suggests that Gohan is a "shadow boss" in Bulma's organization. Magenta likes the idea of taking Gohan out, but he doesn't want Red Ribbon guys operating in the city, since it's too soon to reveal their presence to the wider public.

But if they could kidnap Gohan's daughter and lure him to the Red Ribbon base, then they could fight him on their own turf. Carmine finds that to be a good idea, as it would improve troop morale. Magenta orders a two-man team go to fetch Pan, and Piccolo volunteers, saying that he lives in the same neighborhood and knows Pan's face, because she's the granddaughter of Mr. Satan.

Dr. Hedo objects to the kidnapping angle, but Magenta tells him to mind his own business. Hmmm...

So Piccolo will be picking up Pan from preschool after all, just a bit later than planned. I don't know why Pan can't just run home by herself. She made it all the way here from Piccolo's house, didn't she?

One thing I like about this scene is how there's one other kid here who gets picked up, and that kid's mom apologizes for being late, so it's pretty clear that it's well after 1pm. Pan's been here a while. Her teacher assures here that someone will show up soon, but Pan's still kind of disappointed.

The other Red Ribbon soldier sent to do the kidnapping thinks this will be easy, so he just walks right up to Pan and tells her his mom sent him, but she demolishes him with a single blow.

Then Piccolo reveals himself and Pan recognizes him by his ki and calms down. The teacher already knows Piccolo, so she's cool with him, and Piccolo explains that this was all a security drill arranged by Mr. Satan. Now, in the dub, Piccolo addresses the teacher as "Janet", implying that he knows her as well as she knows him, and I think this is what led to the genesis of the Piccolo/Janet ship. I don't have a lot to say about it that hasn't already been said, but I'm all for Piccolo and Janet getting together. Janet's a fine foxy lady, and Piccolo's reputation speaks for itself.

Of course, Piccolo now has to fly the Red Ribbon airship back to base. He's a pretty crappy pilot, but he manages. I like to think Janet is still impressed, though. "Wow," she thinks as he flies away, crashing into a billboard. "Is there anything he can't do?"

Piccolo's plan is pretty simple. He explains the situation to Pan, and convinces her to play along with the kidnapping. When Gohan shows up to rescue her, he'll kick everyone's ass and that'll take care of everything. Actually, that sounds a little half-baked to me. Piccolo got a power up from Shenron, but is that enough? Anyway, they bring Pan to the base and take a video of her acting scared, then Magenta sends Piccolo and the other guy back to the city to show it to Gohan. Wait, why is that Namekian chair back there? What's that about.

Well, it doesn't matter because Pan sees some cookies and she's like "Don't mind if I do!" but then...

Carmine takes the plate away! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

You suck, Carmine!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Pan would probably attack him right there, except Piccolo's behind him trying to calm her down.

So Piccolo and 15 go to Gohan's house, and Piccolo takes him to the window since he knows Gohan won't answer the door. Notably, Gohan doesn't recognize Piccolo through his disguise, even though Pan saw through it immediately. Also, Gohan hasn't bothered to change out of the clothes Piccolo put him in this morning. Those must be fascinating ants he's working on.

15 shows Gohan the video of Pan and RIP the windowsill.

He turns Super Saiyan and scares the shit out of 15, who promises Pan will be fine if he just returns with him to the base. Gohan gets so mad he makes a crater in the ground...

... and the house starts to list down into the hole. But Piccolo doesn't mind because his plan is working. Gohan's back in a fighting mood and he can clobber the Gammas!

Or can he...?

#dragon ball #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #dragon ball super #dragon ball super super hero #piccolo #gohan #pan #son pan #goku #vegeta #broly #beerus #whis #cheelai #leemo #bulma #magenta #carmine #dr hedo #dende #shenron #korin #yajirobe #janet

[sssammich]

7–late nights, your choice of ship!!!

thanks for the prompt! i've decided to combine this with two supercorptober 2023 prompts.

---

day 4: money, day 5: maroon

(this follows the events of day 2: romance)

read on ao3

crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

Kara plasters on a bright smile for her last customers as she hands them a takeout container with their orders of her crepes. She leans over the counter, her head peeking past the side window, and watches them walk away, chatting all the way, until they disappear out of sight. With a deep sigh, she scans the area with few people left roaming about the park at night. Then, she glances at the clock on the wall of her truck and finds that it’s now nearing 10. It’s the latest she’s stayed at the park in weeks, not since she’d been selling out her supplies. 

Her heart heavy, she slides the small cooler she’d kept at the end of the metal counter and opens it, a waft of all the ingredients she wanted to use to make Lena some of her special crepes, both savory and sweet kinds that Kara thought the other woman would like. She tipped the jar of strawberry preserves she had made from last week she wanted to add into the strawberry crème brûlée she wanted to make. And she prodded at the small container of some truffle mushroom she’d requested at the last minute from her farmer contact, J’onn, to try and impress Lena’s refined palate. It had cost her a pretty penny, but she thought the money was worth it. It wasn’t everyday she could impress the likes of someone as Lena Luthor.  

She attempts her best at tempering her disappointment when hours pass and Lena doesn’t show. Admittedly, Kara had been buzzing with excited energy the whole day, her nerves only ramping up when she parked her truck at her normal spot. She’d played her favorite 2000s pop music as she prepared her ingredients until her first wave of customers passed through. She’d focused on her patrons to the best of her ability, but Kara couldn't help the way she'd scan the park for that familiar dark hair, pale skin. 

Still, time ticked by, and no Lena. 

Eventually her buzz fizzled out and the sinking realization that Lena wasn't going to show lodged itself in her chest. She tried to be a good sport about it, focused on ensuring the customers she did have were taken care of. But she couldn't resist the way she’d glance up. Just in case. 

As she begins to slowly break her setup down, Kara reminds herself that Lena is an extremely busy woman with a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. And though last night’s dinner together had been great, it was most likely a far departure from the business mogul’s everyday life. Kara remembers how Lena explained that she’d just ditched a bad date, and had wandered towards the park to salvage her night, and nothing more.

The night before had felt like a fever dream to her. The way she’d made such a fool of herself at the beginning as she stammered her way into a terrible first impression. Yet, as suspected, Lena had been gracious and kind in joining her and letting her serve one of her crepes. How their small talk bloomed into easy conversation—one that astounded Kara with how seamlessly they transitioned from strangers to something that could resemble friends, hours suddenly spanning between them about food and National City and life. How she’d mustered enough confidence to invite her back today, and getting rewarded by such a beautiful smile. 

Idly, she wondered how the media and the press could paint Lena in such an abhorrent and vitriolic light because all Kara saw was a beautiful and intelligent woman. 

Knowing there was no use in dwelling, least of all because she still had a lot of cleanup to do, she returned to her task. She quickly exits the truck and wipes her tables and chairs before folding them and leaning them against the side of the truck. She disassembles the awning and shuts the side before making her way back in where she can go through the whole ordeal of cleaning up her mess.

She taps the cooler wistfully, the once frozen blocks of ice now melted. Unable to stop herself from indulging herself in a small wallowing party, Kara presses play on a classic heartbreak ballads playlist until the powerhouse voice of Toni Braxton fills the inside of her truck. 

Placing the small pan in front of her like a microphone, Kara bellows out the words, eyes closed, her heart twinging in her sadness of a missed day with a woman she’d been looking forward to seeing all day.

“Unbreak my heart, say you'll love me agai—” 

Suddenly, three solid knocks interrupt Kara’s performance followed by a tentative, “Kara?” 

She stills, her singing stops, just as Toni Braxton belts out the chorus one last time.

The voice pipes up again followed by three more knocks. “Kara, are you there?” 

Kara’s eyes widen in alarm before she scrambles to stop her music and almost drops her phone to the ground, knocking her hip and elbow on the metal counter. She hisses from the pain, and rushes towards the side door. 

Kara’s jaw drops when she finds none other than Lena Luthor right outside her truck’s door. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail just as her body is wrapped in a maroon long coat with the belt wrapped around her waist. Kara’s face scrunches into confusion when she takes a few seconds to realize that Lena has raised her hands up in some show of peace or surrender. 

“I appreciate you taking your safety seriously, Kara,” Lena says with a nod towards her. Kara follows Lena’s line of sight and looks down to find that she’s still holding the pan in front of her. 

“Oh, shoot!” She immediately twists to shove the pan back on the counter before hurrying to open the truck door. “Hi! I, uh—what are you doing here?”

Lena offers her an apologetic smile before offering the plastic bag Kara is now just noticing towards her. “I thought I’d try my luck to see if you’d still be here. And I see that you are.” 

“Here I am,” she breathes out, her face donning what Kara can only imagine is a goofy smile. Not wanting to further embarrass herself, she clears her throat. “So, uh, what’s in the bag?” 

The perfectly curved bow of Lena’s mouth as she smiles up at her is worth waiting for, Kara thinks. And her heart treats her chest like a trampoline when she hears Lena’s next words. “An apology order of potstickers. I had my assistant look up a restaurant rated the best in the city and I got my driver to pick it up before I made it over here.” 

Her brows climb up to her hairline when Kara realizes what Lena’s done. She’d met this woman only last night and somehow, she was already bringing Kara one of her favorite dishes. It’s not exactly a secret that Kara can throw down and eat an impressive amount of food. But the fact that Lena had gone through the trouble to try and catch her still to keep her promise and apologize with food that she’d just recently learned about Kara further sets ablaze her growing attraction towards this woman. She’d known it for a while now, but Kara can’t help but think that Lena was one hell of a woman. 

“Wha-really? Gosh, you didn’t have to do that, Lena.” Unsure of what else to really say, she humbly accepts the bag and opens it, savoring the delicious scents of the potstickers in front of her, even as she meets a pair of apologetic green eyes.  

“I know, I just didn’t want you to think I forgot about today. I had gotten caught up with a long conference call with some investors that bled into dinner. And, well…” 

“I would have understood,” she insists, even as she can’t help the elation that spreads through her body at having Lena stand in front of her now. “I mean, you’re a super busy and important person and I just make crepes. I would have understood.” 

Lena frowns and gestures to bring a hand forward, as if to console her, but thinks better of it and shoves them in her coat pocket. “I don’t think you’re ‘just’ anything.” 

Kara’s cheeks blossoms pink from Lena’s words. How this woman has somehow upended Kara’s life in one day, she’ll never understand.

“Would you like to come in?” 

It’s Lena’s turn to look surprised. “You don’t mind? It’s getting late.” 

“Not at all,” she offers, shaking her head before a contemplative frown tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, but I don’t want to keep you if your driver is waiting for you? You said it yourself, it’s late, and you must be tired.”

“Maybe ten minutes?” 

“That’s perfect. That’s exactly how long it would take to eat this whole tray of potstickers,” she says, bringing the bag up just as Lena had done minutes prior. 

The corner of Lena’s eyes scrunch as she smiles. Kara pulls back slightly, practically leaning back into the driver seat to let Lena in. Suddenly her nostrils are filled with the scent of Lena’s expensive perfume, something slightly sweet and cozy and warm. She remembers the scent from last night, but in the smaller confines of her truck, it’s much more apparent and noticeable. 

“It’s uh, you know, not much. But welcome. Would you like a tour?” 

Lena peers over her shoulder and there’s an amused grin that Kara can see. “Please.” 

Kara places the bag of potstickers on the counter just as she quickly points at all of her appliances, making a show of her three crepe griddle cooktops. She grins smugly when she tells Lena what she and her sister Alex had named them. 

The way Lena’s jaw drops just as her eyes twinkle in amusement is one for the books, Kara thinks, and she would like to remember this image forever. 

“You’re kidding,” Lena says finally. 

“I’m not,” she counters just as she crosses her arms and leans against the threshold. What Kara doesn’t realize is how her shirt’s sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing her biceps—something that Lena couldn’t quite ignore. 

“You really named your griddles Cash, Money, and Millionaire?” 

She shrugs. “It’s about dreaming big, Lena. Remember that.” 

Lena only laughs, the sound of it filtering through the interior of her truck, and Kara briefly wishes she could bottle the sound. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Delighted, Kara resumes the tour of her truck before she plucks two plastic forks from her stash and opens the potstickers tray on the counter between the two of them. They both stick their forks in a dumpling before touching them briefly to toast. For the next ten minutes, the pair of them take turns recounting parts of their day. The conversation flows just as easily as before, and Kara finds herself even more enamored with Lena than before. She must look a fool, nodding enthusiastically just as she crams the last bits of potstickers in her mouth. Yet, Lena is the same as she had been since last night—gracious and poised, kind and warm. 

When she regales Lena with the story of the black cat Kara had dubbed as ‘Streaky’ who refused any of Kara’s best attempts to befriend him, Lena only giggled, placing a hand up to cover her mouth just as she was mid-chew of her potsticker. Lena Luthor was giggling in her truck, a kind of unfettered looseness in how she holds herself has Kara addicted to seeing more of it—to wanting to be the cause of that freedom. Kara can only thank her lucky stars that her sister and friends can’t see her right now, certain that they’d tease her mercilessly. 

Their short time ends sooner than Kara expected, sooner than she’d hoped. Green eyes meeting blue, the two of them somehow with shier smiles than when they’d begun. 

“I should get going,” Lena says with a quick glance. 

“Right, yeah.” 

Lena’s smile is softer, the tiredness of the day seeping into her features, but not once taking away from her beauty. Her hair is pulled back, but there are baby hairs that have loosened slightly, especially on the sides, and Kara restrains herself from wanting to brush them down. She doesn’t, of course, but the desire is there all the same. 

As Lena steps forward, Kara steps back until her hip juts up against the side of the counter. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier.” 

“I—of course, that’s okay. Thank you for coming by and remembering me, though.” 

Lena tilts her head slightly, her hands shoved in her pockets. “That’s not hard to do.” 

“Ah, um. Thanks,” she says, her cheeks blooming pink once again. She ducks her head and scratches behind her ear and she decides this is the best time to start heading out. They slowly make their way out of the truck, the cool autumn air refreshing on Kara’s warm skin. She takes a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest to stave off some of the cold. 

“Thanks for having me, Kara.” 

“And thanks for the postickers. You’re forgiven. Consider this a clean slate.” 

“How magnanimous.” Lena smiles up at her just as Kara stands a little bit taller. “Just for curiosity’s sake, what would you have made for me if I had shown up earlier?” 

Her mind flashes back to the contents of the small cooler still sitting at the end of her counter. “Guess you’ll just have to come back again tomorrow.” 

“Is that right?” A sharp brow quirks up and Kara stands her ground, shrugging as nonchalantly as she can. 

“You know where to find me.” 

Lena then pulls out her phone from her coat pocket and types in her passcode before handing it to Kara. “Why don’t you type your number down so if I’m running late for whatever reason I can give you a heads up.” 

Kara doesn’t bother hiding the surprise on her face, her jaw dropping slightly as her gaze alternates between staring at Lena and the phone between them.

“Unless that’s too forward—” 

But before Lena can continue, Kara plucks the phone out of her hand and starts to type out her phone number on the text box. 

“No! I mean, uh, not too forward,” she begins, her thumbs quickly traveling across the screen to type out her number before returning the phone. “Pretty smooth, actually.” 

Lena laughs through her nose, and the sight of her small and soft smile draws Kara further in, and a growing part of her wants to always see that smile—like a shared secret between the two of them. As much as Kara wants to prolong their time together, the chime of Lena’s phone signals a message from her driver, breaking the bubble they find themselves in. 

“Your pumpkin carriage awaits.” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

Fighting the sudden urge to want to give Lena a hug, Kara shoves her hands in her back pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, immediately shy.

Lena brings her hand up with her phone just as she nods. “I promise this time.” 

With a parting wave, Kara watches as Lena walks not too far from where she’s parked, a black sedan pulling up to the curb before a driver donning an all black uniform quickly opens the door for Lena. In a flash, Lena is gone again. She releases a deep sigh before shoving all of her foldable chairs and tables into the truck’s galley and heading home. 

It’s only when she gets home that she finds a message from an unrecognizable number. She grins to herself when she sees exactly who it’s from. 

Hi Kara, this is Lena. I hope you made it home safely. 

She quickly types up her response, her thumb momentarily hovering over the send button before she presses it.

Hello, Lena Luthor! I did get home just fine, thank you for your concern *thumbs up emoji* 

Surprised, Kara sees the three dots flashing at the bottom of her screen and she ends up sitting upright to lean against her headboard, gripping her phone tightly in anticipation. 

Then the dots stop and Kara’s heart sinks with it as they disappear from the bottom of the screen. She’s about to close her phone when her phone suddenly rings, buzzing in her hand. Opening the call, she hesitates at first and then, “Hello?” 

“Oh, are we back to full naming me?” she hears Lena’s voice, the sound soft and small and tired and beautiful. Kara can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of her, tired as she herself may be. 

“I’m under quota. Surely a woman of your business acumen can understand that.” 

Kara’s heart sings when she hears Lena’s laughter from the other end of the line.

“Sorry for calling so late,” Lena utters quietly. “It was presumptuous of me.” 

“It wasn’t,” she whispers back. Slowly, as if she’ll disturb the space around them, she slouches down until she’s laying flat on her back. Silence spreads in the time and space between them, but there’s a sense of comfort in it that Kara is more than happy to bask in. 

How strange and lucky to connect with someone so quickly. 

“I should go. I would need my beauty rest because there’s a crepe food truck I’ll be going to after work tomorrow.” 

“I see. I hope it’s good.” 

“We’ll see. The owner makes crepes but waxes poetic about potstickers. Hard to determine her allegiance. Plus, I’ve yet to try a trademark crepe from them.” 

“Then I hope they can deliver. After all, it’s the Lena Luthor dining with them.” 

Kara hears a soft huff and realizes that she’d love nothing more than to hear all shades of Lena’s laughter and joy. 

“Goodnight, Kara.” 

She smiles up at the ceiling, her eyes closed as she imagines Lena’s face. “Goodnight, Lena Luthor.” 

“You can’t keep getting away with full naming me.” 

“You’ll find that I can and I will.” 

With a final parting gift of Lena's amused laughter sent her way, they bid each other goodbye. Gently, she hears the soft click that ends the call before she sees her screen change, staring at it until the screen finally shuts off. She cradles her phone on her chest, a smile plastered on her face, as her consciousness is washed away with dreams of tomorrow.

#supercorp #supercorp fanfiction #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #my fanfiction #listen don't let the first like 4 paragraphs trick you #im a kara danvers listens to ballads truther

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, conflicted

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Summary: your patience runs thin with clint and your latest mission comes with complications.

Warnings: angst, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2,010

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prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 -31 - 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Sixty-Three Days

“Hungry?” you asked without looking up from the fridge. You pulled a plastic bag of leftover takeout off the shelf, fishing out a plastic container of curry. When Clint didn’t reply, or even acknowledge you at all, you dropped it onto the kitchen counter with more force than was strictly necessary. The lid wasn’t completely in place, and sauce splattered the countertop. You cursed to yourself, irritated further. You spoke under your breath, reaching for a towel. “Or I could just go fuck myself, I guess.”

It was catty, you supposed, but Clint had been oscillating between his usual self and frustratingly cold and dismissive over the last two months, and it was driving you insane. One day he’d be fine – for Clint, anyway – and the next, you’d be on the business end of the silent treatment. The normal days had gotten fewer and far between since the anniversary, and what triggered the silence, you still had no idea, but it was very quickly beginning to grind on the very last of your nerves.

Tossing the container into the microwave, you hit a couple of buttons and leaned against the countertop as the turntable began to rotate. You let yourself stew as it warmed, arm folding across your chest as you watched the archer head for the shower. He continued to avoid eye contact as though you weren’t there at all, even as the microwave beeped to announce its completion.

You sighed irritably and leaned your elbows on the counter as you picked petulantly at the curry. When Clint finally reemerged, he was dressed in most of his mission gear, and you tossed your fork in the sink. He didn’t even glance up as it clattered against the metal.

“You ready?” he asked gruffly from the couch, tugging on one of his boots.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you talking to me?” It slipped out before you could stop it, annoyance dripping from every word.

Clint looked up; an eyebrow raised. “What’s the matter with you?”

You probably should have just shut up, should have just gotten changed and followed him out the door. But instead, you wiped your hands on a tea towel and tossed it on the counter in front of you. The words kept spewing out bitterly. “I just didn’t realize today was one of the days you actually speak to me like I’m a human being.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Shut up, Y/N.

“What am I—” you scoffed, shaking your head as you rounded the counter towards him. “Clint, this is the first time you’ve spoken to me in three days, and its to ask if I’m ready to go on a mission we haven’t even talked about.”

“We—”

“No, we haven’t!” you snapped, brandishing a finger at him as you closed the distance between you. “Honestly, most days you treat me like I’m furniture around here and I am fucking sick of it! You disappear for months; you come back and tell me you ‘need me’ and, fine, I roll with that, but then you act like I’m not even here—”

Clint’s tone turned a shade of defensive, his jaw tightening and releasing. “I’m not—”

You stabbed him in the chest with your finger. “You act like I’m not even here, and you know what, that would be fine too, except when you finally do talk to me, I actually believe for a moment that things could be going back to normal between the two of us.”

“Everything is—”

“No, it’s not!” you shouted, your face inches from his. “Clint, I get emotional whiplash every time you decide to talk to me!”

“Would you just let me—”

“And I sit here and I pretend everything is fine, and meanwhile you’re pretending I don’t exist and you’ve got me yelling like some kind of sitcom reject and if you could just man up and stop being such a—”

Your words caught in your throat as Clint’s hand suddenly closed around it. He pushed you back against the wall, his thumb pressed hard against the corner of your jaw. In your anger you hadn’t realized just how close you’d been to him, and now even that limited space was gone, Clint’s body so close that you could feel his chest brush against yours with each of his breaths.

His fingers were tight, unforgiving, against your throat. And still you felt a thrill shoot through you, and your lips parted without breath. Clint’s eyes were dark. Anger and something else that sent a shiver straight to the small of your back burned in his gaze.

Your fists clenched and unclenched by your sides; a shield could force him away from you, release you, and maybe you should have been scared of this side of Clint, but his eyes fell for a moment to your parted lips and you couldn’t move.

Do it.

Clint released you, stepping away as though he’d suddenly woken up. He cleared his throat and you inhaled, still leaning back against the wall. Your breath shook as you caught it, your palms pressed against the wall by your thighs. Clint ran a hand through his hair, turning his back to you, and you exhaled as that tightness that had bloomed in the pit of your belly began to ease.

“Get changed,” he said finally, and you swore his voice was unsteady. “We’ve… we’ve got a window closing. We’ll talk about this later.”

***

The ‘window’ had turned out to be a weapons deal in the middle of Holland Park – even three years after the Snap and with society beginning to rebuild its law enforcement within the populated areas, criminals seemed to have no problem with committing grand scale felonies in what were still considered major landmarks. Still, the park was very much deserted at this hour, and you found yourself using the silence around you to continue stewing over your… conversation with Clint as you made your way towards the Kyoto Gardens fountain.

You should have just ignored your feelings and followed after him obediently as usual. The helpful little sidekick just doing what she’s told. But no, you had to go postal on him, and now…

You sighed as you clambered up to the top of the fountain’s rock formation, carefully avoiding the water running between the stones. The foliage would mostly block you from view, and the darkness would do the rest. Clint would be nearby, waiting for his opportunity to strike.

Clint…

God, he was going to withdraw even more, wasn’t he? He was going to pretend everything was fine for a few days and then get even more monosyllabic. He might even disappear again.

You’d made a big show of telling him you didn’t care about him sleeping with you and taking off – you didn’t – and then you’d gone and acted like a frickin’ insane girlfriend.

Settling in a crouch on the outcrop, you continued to mull petulantly as you waited for the targets to show. It was almost an hour before anyone turned up, and an ache was starting to settle into both your head and your thighs. A furrow appeared between your brows as the man approaching the fountain arrived empty handed. You recognized his face – he was supposed to be doing the dealing here.

You reached up activate the comms device in your ear. “Hey, something’s off here, I—”

Your head jerked automatically as you heard a pebble skitter down the stones behind you. Hand flying automatically to your belt and you barely managed to roll out of the way as a baseball bat suddenly swung down toward you. Without your skull to stop it, it cracked against the stone you’d just been kneeling on.

Landing on your back on the uneven stones left you in just as bad a position and with a sharp pain in your shoulder, but going any further would have had you rolling right off the edge of the outcrop. The limited light now worked against you, and you stopped fumbling for your gun as the bat came arching down out of the darkness again.

You rocked back onto your shoulders and kicked upward with both feet. The grunt of your assailant told you you’d caught him in the stomach, and you scrambled back into a crouch long enough to pull the blade from the holster on your boot. The sound of voices below and the agonized cry of someone meeting Clint’s blade suggested the man on the ground’s back up had arrived at the same time as your attackers.

Straightening, you held the blade tightly in your fist. The metal shone as it briefly caught the light of the nearest lamppost.

“I told you the boss was on to something.” a gruff, eastern European voice said in the dark, and you raised the blade warningly. “There’s more than one Ronin.”

Oh, shit.

“Yeah, yeah.” came the cockney reply, the man still winded from his meeting with your boots. “Ronin’s got himself a girlfriend. Just get on with it.”

Oh, SHIT.

You swung wide with the knife as the first man approached, ducking under a swing from another baseball bat. The European caught you in the shoulder and you grunted, the blow hard enough that you dropped the knife. You heard it clatter against the rocks below. The cockney guy shoved past him and swung, and you dodged to the left, the move sloppy on uneven ground.

The urge to force them away with a shield was growing along with your nerves as they forced you back closer to the edge of the outcropping, and you swallowed it back. They were already far too informed, and you couldn’t risk them actually unpuzzling your identities. The cockney man rushed you, sensing your hesitation, and you dropped just as quickly. You used his momentum to throw him over your shoulder and send him crashing into the water below.

“Hülye kurva!” the European spat, and you stood quickly, slugging him in the jaw. He grunted, spat, and swung the bat again. You cursed as you moved too slow and the bat glanced off your side. Your fingers twitched in an automatic gesture; forcing the bat out of his hands would be so easy, but—

You jumped, grabbing hold of a tree branch above you. You swung forward, both feet meeting his chest. He fell and you landed in front of him, kicking the bat out of his hand. Removing your gun from its holster, you leveled it with his stomach, finger curling around the trigger.

And then your body suddenly seized as an excruciating pain exploded between your shoulders and set your whole body on fire. Fifty thousand volts coursed through you from the taser bolt in your back and you felt your limbs tense uncontrollably. Your eyes rolled back and you collapsed backward, off of the ledge. A sick, rushing sensation overcame you before you felt your back hit the water and the back of your head cracked against stone.

Then everything went black.

***

“Come on, Y/N. Come on, baby, breathe…”

An almost painful pressure on your chest forced you back into consciousness, the same feeling repeating four more times before you finally coughed the water from your lungs. You rolled onto your side and threw the rest of it up, your chest heaving and your hair dripping in your eyes as you tried to force them open again.

You’d been dragged from the water, a pool of it spreading from your clothes onto the stone beneath you. Your throat burned as you tried to gulp down air, and you coughed again. “Wh—?”

You felt yourself pulled upward, arms banding around your shoulders. Clint’s hand curled in your damp, tangled hair, your face tucked against the curve of his neck. “You gotta stop scaring me like this, Y/N.”

You coughed a laugh, wrapping an arm around his neck as tears burned your eyes. “I’m working on it.”

.

.

.

tags:@trekkingaroundasgard@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@lol-you-thought@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies@youralphawolf72@maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky@melaclintbartoncorner@loki-is-loved@whovianayesha@bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics@ace-fandom-dumbass@kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa@earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86@darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93

AN: this chapter was short and took far too long to write, but I promise the next one will come much quicker!

AN2: The language we're seeing here is Hungarian - and that's because I'm going to be using a particular fictional Marvel country in a few chapters and it's canonically right next to Hungary, so I figured there would/could be an overlap in the language. No spoilers though!

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton imagine #clint barton x oc #clint barton x ofc #clint barton reader insert #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton fanfic #hawkeye #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x oc #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x ofc #hawkeye reader insert #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkeye fanfic #mine: fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #mcu reader insert #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel imagine

[hyunnieshannie]

Youtiful Series: CHAN

SAUDADE

🖤: Chan x Reader | Youtiful Series 🖊️: 2,393 🚨: ANGST- SO MUCH ANGST - Fluffy af tho

You love your boyfriend, you really, really do. But sometimes it’s so fucking difficult to take care of him. You’ve been dating Chan for 5 years. Of course things were rocky at some points in your relationship but you both knew and hoped that you were endgame. Since you’ve been with Chan for so long, you’ve been dubbed the ‘Mom’ of the Stray Kids boys and you wore that title like a badge of honor. They listened to you more than Chan anyway. But as the group mom it meant that you were taking care of more people, which meant that your attention was stretched out amongst 8 boys. You didn’t really mind though, you saw the rest of the boys like they were your brothers anyway.

You weren’t really surprised when you’d go days without hearing from your boyfriend. When they had projects coming up, Chan always buried himself in his work - something you got used to very early on in the relationship. He works very hard and you love him for his work ethic although you wished he’d at least send you a text to let you know he was alive. But thankfully, one of the boys usually sent you a picture of their hyung working in the studio or sending you a text saying they were feeding him and taking good care of him. 

It was only after a week that you started to worry about him. He usually never went more than 3 days without responding to your texts. But this time was much different. He’d read your messages and never sent anything back. He’s never done that before. He always texts you right after he reads the message or calls you. He never leaves you on read. You pick up the phone and call him. The phone rings 10 times before he finally picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hi Channie,” you sigh as you smile to yourself, finally happy you were able to speak to him. “I was thinking of coming by to bring you some dinner, is that alright?”

“Ah no, that’s ok. Jisung ordered food for us so it should be here shortly.” Chan said, you could tell that he was distracted by whatever project he was working on.

“Oh, ok. Are you doing ok? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you..” you trail off, not wanting to accidentally start a fight.

“Oh sorry about that, just been busy. You know how it is.” He says plainly.

“Ok, well I won’t keep you. Have a nice dinner. I love you Channie.” You say with a forced smile on your face.

“Mmm you too baby.” He says before hanging up the phone. You can’t help but feel your heart sink a bit once you drop the phone to your lap. You shake your head and force a smile on your face.

“He’s just busy, that’s all. No need to worry, y/n. Everything’s gonna be fine.” You say to yourself, not sure why you need to convince yourself in the first place.

Another week goes by before you hear from Chan. You keep pushing your anxiety down. You know the boys are busy and you know Chan always puts every piece of himself into his work. But there’s this nagging feeling that’s gnawing at your heart that’s telling you that something’s wrong. You ignore it not wanting to worry the people around you, especially the boys.

“How’s Chan?” You ask Felix as you lay across his lap, playing this silly game he recommended. 

“Channie-hyung? He’s great actually, why do you ask?” Felix says as he taps on the controller staring hard at the television in front of the two of you.

“Just curious is all. He’s been in the studio a lot lately so it’s been hard to get a hold of him.” That statement had Felix pausing the game and looking down at you.

“Y/n, we finished recording everything 2 weeks ago…” Felix says as he watches your facial expression sour.

“Wh-what do you mean?” 

“We finished recording 2 weeks ago. Channie-hyung has been leaving the same time we have.” Felix says cautiously. “He left with us today too.”

You abruptly stand up, almost elbowing Felix in the face. “H-hey y/n where are you going?”

“To find my fucking boyfriend.” You seethe as you force your shoes back on and walk out the door slamming it behind you.

It takes you no time at all to reach your boyfriend's dorm, storming through the front lobby and stalking your way to his door. You let yourself in and let the door slam behind you. Changbin peaks around the corner wide eyed.

“Oh Jesus. Hey y/n. You scared the shit outta me. I thought you were a robber or something.” Changbin laughed, his eyes relaxing and a small smile gracing his lips. Only after seeing your expression did his sour as well. “Y/n what's wrong?” He asks as he quickly moves in front of you holding your shoulders gently.

“Where is he.” You demand quietly.

“Who? Where’s who?” Changbin asked, confused.

“My lying boyfriend. Where. Is. He.” You say as the anger begins to boil inside your being. Changbins face falls and he drops his hands from your shoulders.

“He’s in his room.” Changbin says blankly, moving out of your way as you breeze past him to your boyfriend's room.

You try to calm yourself before you confront him but the more you stand there the angrier you got so you quickly flung the door open and stepped inside. Chan was laying on his bed, his phone in his hand and his eyes wide as he took in your form. You didn’t let him get a word in before you started rambling.

“What the fuck is going on Chris? I have to learn from Felix that you guys have been done recording for the past 2 weeks which means you’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?! What the fuck? Telling me you’ve been working late in the studio when in reality you’ve been going home at the same time as the rest of the boys! You’ve been avoiding the shit out of me and I’ve been trying my best to keep things together but I can’t handle this anymore. I’ve been worried sick at home, crying myself to sleep most nights because I don’t know what’s going on with you. With us. Instead of ignoring me and distancing yourself from me just tell me you don’t want to date me anymore.” You’re so frustrated you start spewing everything at him, angry tears falling down your cheeks. You don’t care how loud you’re being either, the rest of the boys can definitely hear every word you’re saying.

“Y/n, baby.” Chan says as he gets up to comfort you.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Chris.” You say as you push his hands away from you. “You don’t get to do that after ignoring me for weeks. Not answering my calls or my texts. You don’t get to bury this. Explain yourself. Now. Or I’m leaving.” You say as you cross your arms over your chest, locking eyes with him, tears still cascading down your cheeks.

Chan sighs and backs up to his bed and sits at the edge, placing his head in his hands, letting out a long sigh. He’s quiet for a long time and you take that as his answer. You turn to open the door when you hear him mutter something.

“What?” You ask as you turn back to him.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” He looks up at you and his face is red, eyes watering and tears spilling down his cheeks. He stutters as he takes a breath in and out. “I’m so, so sorry, y/n.”

You’re not sure what to say. You want to ask what he’s sorry about but you can’t find the words, your breath caught behind the lump in your throat. You stay silent and hope that he explains further.

“I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I never…” a sob wracks its way through him, completely breaking down in front of you. You feel yourself flinch when the instinct to console him rushes through your body, but you remain still. Too scared that he might push you away if you get too close. “I’m.. I ne-… baby, I’m so sorry.” He says through broken breaths.

“Breathe, Chris.” You say as calmly as possible, a little bit of your anger slips through at the end however. He does as you say though and takes in slower breaths.

“I’m sor-“ 

“If you apologize one more time without giving me an explanation I’m leaving.” You say firmly, knowing full well that if you didn’t stop the ‘im sorry’ train, he’d continue down that track for hours.

“I… there were… rumors.” He says as he looks down towards the floor, wringing his hands together. “There were tweets and tiktoks being made about… me… and you… I didn’t know what to do. People saw us out a few months ago and threatened to leak the photos. Our faces weren't visible so the company decided not to respond. But when we didn’t respond, they posted them anyway. There’s been so much speculation and people have been saying such horrible things about what they’d do if I ever had a girlfriend. I was told to not say anything, not to address the rumors, to go on business as usual. But every time I went online that’s all I saw. And I panicked. I didn’t want them to find out about you because I didn’t want them to attack you. I wanted to keep you safe so I distanced myself. I didn’t know what else to do. It was the only way I could think of protecting you.”

You stand there processing his rambling. You’ve been so busy you haven't been online as much as you usually were. Chan keeps muttering ‘I’m sorry’s’ and ‘I didn’t know what to do’. You didn’t know he was having such a hard time and you wish he would’ve just told you instead of keeping it from you.

You slowly approach him and kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away from his face and holding them in your hands. 

“You should’ve told me.” You whisper to him.

“I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you… no I couldn’t.” He says through shaking breaths. You squeeze his hands tighter in yours.

“But you pushed me away instead. Do you know how worried I was for you? I thought that you were pushing me away because you were getting bored of me, or because… you didn’t love me anymore.” You say the last part quietly, too scared to even voice that the thought had crossed your mind. Chan immediately breaks upon hearing it, falling to the floor in front of you and bringing you in for a tight hug.

“Fuck… I’m so sorry. Baby…” He tries as he sobs into your shoulder, tears falling down your own cheeks as you hug him back just as tight. You both hold each other in your arms, letting all the tears out. When you both stop crying and calm your breaths you both pull away but still keep your limbs tangled together.

“Baby… I-I’m so sorry.” Chan begins as he looks at you with such sad eyes. “I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t love you anymore. I didn’t think… I had no idea that pulling away from you would make you think that. I wasn’t thinking.” He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing your hands so tightly. “I love you so much, I- I would do anything for you.”

You smile sadly at him. You place one of your hands on his cheek, cradling his face in your palm. “You would?” 

“Of course.” 

“Then let me in.” You whisper, placing your other hand on his empty cheek. He nuzzles into your palm as you continue. “Don’t push me away. Tell me about all your worries, your struggles, your dreams, your desires. Let me in and I’ll do the same. I love you, Chan, I want to be able to take care of you.”

“B-but, I don’t want you to worry. I want to be strong for the both of us.”

“You don’t need to be strong, baby. I just want you to rely on me more. Please..” 

He looks at you and then down to the ground and back up at you. “Ok, but I want you to rely on me too.” 

You nod at his request and a small smile appears on his lips.

“I’m sorry baby, really, I am.” Chan says as he pulls you closer to him.

“No more apologies.” You whisper as you place a feather light kiss on his lips. You rest your forehead against his. “Can we snuggle? All these tears made me really tired..”

Chan chuckles and pulls you off the ground with him and directs you to lay down, not getting in the bed with you.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little worried that he’s going to run away again.

“Just getting some water for us, I’ll be right back. Promise.” He gives you a small smile before quickly padding out of the room. You close your eyes and you can hear murmuring from the hallway, but you’re far too tired to eavesdrop on the conversation. A few moments later you feel the bed dip beside you and you open your eyes being met with Chan’s face mere inches from yours.

“Who was that?” You ask Chan sleepily as you pull him closer to you.

“Jisung. He heard us and was worried. I told him we were good.” He hums as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

You both lay in silence, Chan rubbing small circles on your back. 

“You sleepy?” Chan asks as he pulls away to get a better look at your face.

You hum in response, opening your eyes to look at him. He chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead.

“Sleep, baby.” He places another kiss on your forehead. “I love you.” 

“Love you too, Channie.” You say slowly as you nuzzle your head into his chest, squeezing your arms around him, and drifting off to sleep.

@chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi Thank you for being on our permanent tag list <3

#skz fluff #skz fic #stray kids stay #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic

[a-cupof-jo]

Play Action - Teaser

Football Player!Jung Jaehyun x Sports Analyst!Fem!Reader

Genre: grump x sunshine, falls easily x doesn’t know what love is

Warning(s): none

Teaser WC: 1.5k

Projected WC: 15k

Play Action Playlist

Part of the Picture Perfect Image Universe

Summary:

Jung Jaehyun wouldn’t know hard work if it slapped him in the face. He has an unnatural talent as a Tight End- I should know- but he has gotten off easy. So when a drunken night leaves his image in a lest-than-stelar light, who better to fix it than the Angel’s exclusive date-for-hire. I would not let myself be pulled into a football players life again, but Jaehyun makes it hard to stay away.

A/n: rough edit sorry :/

~~

I have loved Jeno Lee for 93 days. 

I love the way he makes me laugh and how he is always attentive to me. He never makes me feel bad when I don't want to go out or if I am feeling so overwhelmed with work that I can't make myself function properly. We weren't best friends, it was something different between us.

Mutual respect and appreciation drove our relationship. I could not put my heart in more capable hands. They were more competent at steering that bus than any other emotion I know. 

We were steady and knew exactly what was expected of each other. With him, I feel happy and in control of my life, of the future and what it holds. 

There weren't many times Jeno wasn't smiling, but I liked to think that I only added more joy and happiness to his life. I celebrate his victories and let him lay his worries on me.

Celebrating is what we were doing tonight. No matter how much I tended to avoid crowds and large gatherings, I would put on my brave face. This was important to him, and me, to us. Months had been put into this to make it possible. 

He wouldn't judge me for my tardiness- much. No one likes to admit their faults, but luckily when they are on display, you don't have to. Which is why I'm sure he already assumed that I was going to be late, but the street vendor had been busy and I couldn't resist the roasted pecans.

Adrian Young Memorial Stadium was magnificent. Tall pillars and exterior walls built of locally sourced quartz and the limestone exuded the quiet strength that came from the neighboring mountains. It held a long tradition of hosting some of the most spectacular moments of football history, a tradition that the Angel’s intended to keep. 

A long quiet hall greeted me as I pushed through the authorized personnel only hallway. It wasn't unfamiliar, but as I took in the boards boasting years of excellence and the man that made this team great it was hard to not feel small, insignificant. 

Glancing at my watch, my groan echoed around me.

It was official- I was the worst girlfriend ever. If I ever had any doubt before, it was now gone. 20 minutes late and showing up nearly empty handed to the biggest celebration of the last 20 seasons. 

Maybe nobody would notice the slightly disheveled woman racing down the hall. It’s not like I was an important figure that would be missed, not in a room full of professional athletes. Stopping where laughter and cheers spilled from the doors, I counted back from 10, pulling lightly at my shirt to straighten it. Calm, cool, composed, that was me. I was a woman that exuded confidence. They would not see me faulted. Which is why I decided that 5 more minutes without showing my face would be better than arriving looking like I had just been caught in a wind tunnel.

I wish I was one of those women who always had it together. They could run 5K and jump into a board meeting right after. These were the women that ran the world, and made sure everyone around them knew it.

The cool sink water trickled down my scalp as I worked to slick down the curls that had broken free of the updo I had twisted my hair into. Bathroom mirrors had a good way of letting me know that I looked worse than I felt. Splotchy red cheeks and a slight runny nose no amount of paper towels shoved up my nose would solve was really the look I was going for tonight. Thank you, January. 

Reapplying the light layering of makeup I had slapped on this morning didn't take long, but I couldn't convince myself to pull away from the vanity. My lipstick was perfect and not an eyelash was out of place, yet I couldn’t push away the gnawing that I would never hold up in the eyes of those in Jeno’s circle, in Jeno’s eyes.

“Come on, Y/n,” there was nothing to be worried about. Jeno would be patiently waiting, not worrying in the slightest that it would look weird that his date was missing. His teammates would be too focused on getting as much alcohol in their system in as little amount of time as possible. I would not be participating in that endeavor. Getting plastered in public is asking for something to go wrong. I did not need my image having “party animal” attached to it.  

“Who does he think he is demanding that I quit my job? That bag of shriveled up- oh,” wide eyes blinked at me as the door to the bathroom slammed open. The badge that hung from her hip confirmed that she was a member of the Angel’s team. If I remembered correctly, Marketing and PR, under that brick Vanessa. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was in here. I find that venting is best performed in front of an audience and I thought that it was just going to be my reflection tonight But now you’re here. Do you mind? It’s just-there is this man that I was trying to help- if he would just let me, but apparently all my ideas are stupid and not worthy of a mighty Angel. See if I try to help him again. I mean what kind of person says that ” 

“You’re fine,” the timid smile I tried to give looked more like a grimace as I glanced one more time in the mirror. She had steamrolled me and there was not an inkling idea how I was supposed to respond to that. Rushing to the door I considered thanking her for finally kicking my feet into gear. Even if it was by the desire to get away from the word vomit she had thrown at a virtual stranger. “I am just going to leave.”

She cringed at me as if realizing her faux pas,  “Have a good night.”

I had to get out of there. 

Now I was definitely not running down the hall, but I could have broken the record for fastest speed walk I’m sure. So much for freshening up. It wouldn’t matter, most of the people I was going to be interacting with would not remember this night anyway. 

Pausing in front of the door, I tried to fix my face to exude happiness and openness. I was inviting. I was there to celebrate and have a good time. I would not make people think I was trying to escape the entire night.

“No,” the woman’s voice barely rose above the music blasting through the music. My stomach dropped at the panic lacing that word. “You need to stop. Don’t say it.” The cracked closet door in the hall pushed just farther open. If something happened to her then-

“What? You don’t want me to tell you I love you? I have been in love since before I had a name for the feeling I get in my chest when you are around. There has not been a time that I have not loved you. You must see that.”

Blood rushed to my ears as I approached the door. Fear poked the back of my skull and my throat went dry. 

“Jeno,” my heart sank as her voice cracked. “I can’t”

“Why?” There it went. My heart shattered on the floor, stomped on by a man who loved someone else.

“There are so many reasons! Your job and reputation, mine, the fact that you have a girlfriend!”

"She's not you!" Heat raced up my chest and ignited in my face. My chest heaved as I pulled in a wet breath. I watched, aching, as he leaned forward, cupping her cheeks, “She’s a fake girlfriend. You know that Y/n is a fake girlfriend. She is a friend. All I see is you.” 

Right. 

Fake.

As I wipe at the tears that have pressed at the corners of my eyes, I spin away from the door and scowl as I come face to face with Jaehyun, the Angel’s laid back Tight End and one of Jeno’s closest friends. 

I would not look foolish in front of him,  getting teary-eyed at the knowledge that my fake boyfriend loved his social media manager. Look him in the eye, raise your chin, don’t let it wobble, keep your feet straight and limbs loose. I knew about this, Jeno has not taken me off guard. I would convince myself of this and Jaehyun would be none the wiser.

“Excuse me,” voice clipped, I pushed past the man that towered over common-folk. “I have a party to be attending.”

Finally pushing through the doors a grin presses at my teeth and I mentally correct my mantra for the night, reset my racing thoughts and remember that I am there for one reason.

I have faked being in love with Jeno Lee for 93 days and everyone was going to believe it.

#jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jung jaehyun #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 fic #nct u fic

[kiwi2229]

One hour

(James Potter / Regulus Black | 556 words)

for @jegulus-microfic prompt: beach

One hour. That’s all Regulus asked for. One undisturbed hour of laying on his towel, bathing in the sun surrounded only by the warm and the sound of the sea. One hour. It’s not a lot to ask, isn’t it? Well apparently, it is for James Potter.

It could be only 10 minutes of silence and Regulus feels James already restlessly fidgeting beside him. He doesn’t need to look up. He can feel James gaze at him. He hears how he switches position on his towel every 30 seconds. He hears how James loudly inhaled several times but, in the end, he kept himself from speaking.

It could be only 20 minutes when James gets up and goes for a swim unable to stay in the same place. Regulus relishes in it. He likes the calmness of a day at a beach. It’s one that’s hidden from strangers so only a few other people are there, but all of them are far enough so he doesn’t hear them. The sun is sinking into Regulus’ skin warming him.

It could be only 30 minutes when James comes back from the water and with him the restless energy. He doesn’t sit on his towel for more than 5 minutes before he is up again and walking towards the bar for a drink.

It could be only 50 minutes and Regulus is surprised that James calmed down. He can still feel his presence next to him, but the boy has been quiet for the last 20 minutes. Strangely quiet. Suspiciously quiet. But Regulus refused to look up in fear he will snap his boyfriend from whatever trance he got himself into. He let his mind clear of all thoughts. There is only the sound of waves hitting the nearest rocks and the squawking of seagulls in the distance.

It could be only 55 minutes when Regulus is woken up from his relaxation by a careful whisper of his name.

“Reggie…”

“Mhm?” He mutters.

“I’m sorry. But can you move a little?” James asks.

“What? Why?” An hour. That’s all he wanted.

“I need you to move. You are in the way of the dragon’s tail.” For a second Regulus thinks he didn’t hear him correctly. Or maybe he was in the sun for too long he’s making it up.

“Wha-“ Regulus’ question gets stuck in his throat as he lifts his head to look at the boy next to him.

“I didn’t estimate the size correctly, so I need you to move a little.” James gives him a sheepish smile as he gestures to the body of a dragon made from sand right next to him. The dragon lies right next to a big castle with at least four towers James obviously build in the 20 minutes he was quiet.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” James smiles and gestures for Regulus to move because once is James set on a task even if it’s building a sandcastle nothing can stop him.

As Regulus moves James is already focusing back on his dragon. “I think I will build a village next to it, what do you think?”

“Sure, Mon amour, whatever you want,” Regulus answers with a smile. Great, that means that James gets to be happy and more importantly busy, and it can give Regulus maybe half an hour on top.

#Regulus just needs his hour of peace #James is trying hard #I'm I James in this? Definitely #I also want to be at a beach #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #starchaser #oneshot #fanfic #marauders era #marauders #jegulus microfic #james potter x regulus black #james x regulus #Kiwi2229 writes microfics

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 62. brb x oc

a/n: no ROOSTER in this chapter ;-; but there will be ON THE NEXT EHE

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: mentions of eric. OHB OY

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61

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-

The first few hours without Rooster were fine, Nicole was quiet, she was used to not having her dad during the mornings after all. Beatrice was thankful that their daughter was such a calm baby most of the time, either too busy looking around with interest or trying to grab the mobile above her head as it moved in circles.

But as the day went by, Nicole got fussy, the closer it got to Rooster’s return time the eager she got, kicking and waving her arms and legs, letting out happy squeals because she somehow knew that Rooster would walk past the front door and kiss her cheeks over and over before picking her up. Beatrice just frowned as she watched from the sink, seeing her little daughter just wriggling out of pure excitement about having her father back soon.

Beatrice looked up at the clock on the wall seeing that indeed he’d be home soon if he was still in California. Maybe Nicole wouldn’t mind it too much, maybe she’d act just like when they both go to the Hard Deck…she hoped so at least. 

But alas, that wasn’t what happened.

When the clock’s hands moved to the specific time that Rooster got home,Nicole stopped moving - as if she wanted to hear his steps as he got into the house - and waited. Beatrice felt so bad, chewing her lower lip at the expectative look on her daughter’s face, “Nikki,daddy isn’t home, he’s going to be away for three months.” she knew her daughter couldn’t understand but she couldn’t not tell her about it.

Nicole just moved her light green eyes to Beatrice, then back to where she knew the door was even though she couldn’t see it. “Nikki, I–” how does someone explain that to an infant? There was no way she’d understand, but Nikki’s face slowly scrunched and soft hiccups broke out of her throat when she didn’t see her father, “Oh no,no,no, no,Nikki.” Beatrice rushes to the bouncer just as Nicole’s hiccups got longer and high pitched into gentle crying.

She picks the baby up, holding Nicole against her chest,bouncing and shushing her the best she could but it wasn’t working. Especially when Beatrice turns around and Nicole’s eyes meet the front door and only the front door. 

It was the very first time that Nicole cried so loud.

And it pained Beatrice immensely, “No,no, it’s okay, it’s okay,” her eyes stung as her daughter cried loud and she felt the hot tears touching her neck, Nicole’s tiny fists clenching her mother’s shirt, “Sssh,sshh,it’s okay, it’s okay baby,I know.” her voice cracked and she wiped her own eye with her sleeve covered shoulder, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I know,I know you miss him. I miss him too.”

More crying, she could feel how hot her daughter’s cheeks were because of the blood flow rising to her face. Nicole was heartbroken just by her crying, it was the worst thing she had ever heard, “Nikki,ssshhh,it’s okay.” she kept bouncing the infant, walking around the kitchen with the dogs following her since they heard the crying as well, “It’s okay, sshhh,it’s okay…”

Nicole’s crying slowly faltered to gentle whimpers, tears clung to those long lashes and her tiny chest convulsed with hiccups, only being able to let out a quiet whine after a while. Beatrice cautiously turned her head to check on her daughter, seeing that there were tears still in her eyes but she stopped crying completely, “...oh,birdie,” she whispers, kissing her daughter’s head, ‘It’s okay.” she knew deep inside it wasn’t, she knew that Nicole couldn’t understand why her father who stayed close from the second she was born wasn’t there by her side.

Her mother just bounced her in her arms for a few more minutes,kissing that fluffy hair that was now leaning more to a dark sandy brown color much like her father. And the comparison only made Bea frown a bit more, “I’ll have to talk to him and check when we’ll be able to chat, so you can see him too, you know?” Nicole whined again, earning another kiss to her head, “It’s okay, birdie, it’s okay.”

Nicole’s cries dissipated into nothing, her tiny hands holding onto Beatrice’s shirt still and her soft cheek squished on Beatrice’s shoulder. Her mother rubbed her back soothingly, heart still hurting from seeing her cry so much. 

When she went to put her back on her bouncer,Nicole cried out in complaint and Beatrice pulled her back up so she could be close to her chest, “Okay, you don’t want to be there, that’s fine.” she murmured, “But mommy has to clean some stuff,birdie.” she explains, “I think I can…um…well…” she could wrap Nicole against her body as she cleaned the house, she had learned a few wrap carries from youtube videos that she wore whenever they had to go out.

Beatrice sighed, adjusting her baby in her arms as she walked up the staircase to Nicole’s nursery, turning on the lights and gently placing her on the changing table. She stays close in case she cries out but she doesn’t, she just keeps her mother in her sights all the time.

Soon enough Beatrice hears the sound of her phone, the same one she kept downstairs, “Ugh, fuck.” she groans, flexing her hands and then picking Nicole back up, “Sorry,sweetie, mommy is all over the place. We just need to…ugh, okay, maybe– Ellie!”

Eleanor scrambles up the staircase and almost hits her ribs on the threshold, stopping with her ears perked up and pink nose turned to where Beatrice was, “I know this is a bit weird, but you love grabbing things…can you get me my phone? It’s in my bag,” she moves her hand on her chest as if to show the position the bag usually is when she’s holding, “My bag, you know it,right? You know what it is.”

The white pup blinks up at her, wags her tail for a bit then bolts downstairs. Her hurried paws echo all around the house and Beatrice could hear her sniffing about trying to find the one thing her owner asked her to get.

Beatrice just waited, while looking down at Nicole, frowning at the tear tracks on her soft and small face and the gentle sniffling she still had going on. Beatrice refused to tell Rooster about this because she knew if she did he’d blame himself immediately and that’s not what she wanted especially when he’s so far away.

She didn’t know when they’d be able to talk, he left early this morning after all, but she hoped it’d be soon because of Nicole’s reaction of his absence. She knew Nicole didn’t like when they weren’t home, but thy managed to work through it by sending her to Bea’s parents, she was now used to her mother’s absence during that specific period of time.

But Rooster’s situation was a bit different.

Nicole didn’t understand because she’s just a baby who just turned a month old, she’s used on having both of her parents close by at all times and not to mention, she has a strong connection with both. In her little baby mind it made no sense why her father wouldn’t be home by the time he should be.

Beatrice’s worried thoughts stopped when she heard the tinkling of her xenomorph keychain swinging and Eleanor’s clipped nails clicking on the floor. The white dog stood by the door with the strap of Beatrice’s bag held tightly between her large maws, curved tail wagging “Ellie!You got it!” Beatrice’s tone only makes the dog’s tail wags harder and she wiggles her way inside, dropping the bag on the brunette’s feet and then rolling on the floor to show her pink tummy, “You are such a good girl, thank you! Thank you!”

Beatrice gives her some belly rubs before Eleanor rolls back to stand on her paws, watching with curiosity as Beatrice opens the bag to pull out her phone, “Thank you Ellie,I’ll give you treats downstairs, okay?” Eleanor’s tail stops wagging and she barks out a complaint, “Ellie! Later, I promise okay? Don’t worry,you’ll get it.”

She could swear the pup’s eyes were narrowed in disbelief but she turned around and left the room with a trot. Beatrice sighs, tossing her back to the rocking chair as she checks her phone with her free hand still on top of Nicole’s chest.

Her daughter’s small palm touched the back of her finger, holding the digit close and tight as her mother checked what set her phone off.

Beatrice couldn’t see much yet, checking all her messages and seeing that four of them were from the girls’ group chat,two were from Hangman who took on the mantle of ‘worried uncle and honorary older brother’ asking if she was okay and the last one from her mother who let her know that she was coming over later to bring her dinner.

She smiles in thanks, typing out messages for everyone until Shells’ name popped on the screen, interrupting her typing.

Shells (16:34)

Babes!! Are you home?

Bea (16:34)

Yeah,I am…why?

Shells (16:35)

I’m coming over. We need to talk about something and I’m bringing Ev with me!

Cue to Shells sending a picture of herself and Evelyn inside Shells’ buick, their taller friend holding several bubble teas on her lap while giving the blonde an ugly look

Bea (16:36)

Wait,what? Why? Is everything okay?

Shells (16:36)

You’ll see! Love you!

Beatrice just stared down at the phone in silence,blinking quietly and then furrowing her brows, only looking away when she heard Nicole’s soft noises from her changing table. “Sorry,birdie.” she says sweetly, pocketing her phone into her jeans, “Your aunt Shells is coming over with your aune Evelyn.” Maybe that would help her cheer up, she liked Shells and Evelyn a lot more now that she was used to them.

She was confused as to why Shells was coming over considering they’ve seen each other earlier that day while cleaning the bar…and why she was coming with Evelyn. But Beatrice didn’t have much time to think about it because the doorbell rang and Eleanor started barking like crazy, “They are already here?!” she pulls out her phone to check the camera app and in fact, it was Shells and Evelyn, with Shells waving at the camera with a huge smile.

Beatrice opens the mic to talk through her phone, “I thought you guys would arrive much later.”

“She stepped on the gas to get here.” Evelyn explains as Beatrice walks down the stairs with Nicole against her chest, “She really wanted to get here soon.”

“With good reason! Come on,Bea!Come on, we gotta celebrate!”

What the hell was going on?

Beatrice slides her phone back inside her pocket after gently pushing Eleanor away and opening the front door. “Ah!Bumblebea!” Shells is grinning so wide it’s like her face will split in half, “Hi,Nikki! Hi! It’s me your favorite auntie!” Nicole just blinked at the blonde but did hold onto her finger as she wagged it in front of her face, “Ah,she’s so cute, here Ev, let me grab it.”

She takes the bubble teas from Evelyn’s hands and marches past Beatrice inside her house. The brunette looks back to where her friend was humming and then looks back at Evelyn,  “...what is happening?”

“I have no idea.” Evelyn says as she walks in so Beatrice could close the door, “She showed up at my place and ordered me to come down, didn’t say why, just said we were going to see you and that it was going to be great.”

“...that’s worrisome.”

“No kidding.” Evelyn mutters, the two of them walking along to the kitchen where they could hear Shells’ happy humming, “Anyway,how are you? I know Rooster left this morning.”

Beatrice smiles weakly, giving her friend a shrug, “...well it’s…I’m used to it.”

“But Nicole isn’t.”

“No.” comes out as a groan as she looks down at her daughter, “Cried so much when she didn’t see Rooster walk through the door, broke my heart,Ev.”

Evelyn stays silent for a bit, but Beatrice sees her friend’s jaw move and her lips curl into her mouth. She had a feeling that hearing brought back memories from her own childhood when her father was gone for a long time and since Rooster told her that Cyclone first held Evelyn when she was already one year old it probably made her a bit uncomfortable to think about it again, “...It’ll be fine.” she finally says, breaking the silence between them, “She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“You and Rooster are raising her well when it comes to that topic,” there’s a hidden bitterness in her words, undoubtedly from the time when she was younger, “She’ll understand. Plus, when he calls,she’ll be able to see him.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Do you plan on telling him about her reaction?”

“No, absolutely not.” Beatrice shakes her head while changing Nicole’s position to her other shoulder, “He’ll just feel guilty and I don’t want that.”

“Are you two coming or what?” Shells’ voice interrupts them,”Come on!”

Both women looked at each other then stepped a bit faster to the kitchen where Shells had somehow found a bag of spicy chips that she poured into a bowl, “What’s the celebration for?” Beatrice asks, grabbing a chip herself and sitting down when Shells flaps her hand as if telling her to do so.

“Yeah,I want to know why I was yanked out of my house as well,” Evelyn comments with her arms folded on top of the table,”Considering you said absolutely nothing.”

Shells had that little smile on her face, the one that she often had that reminded them of ‘Dennis the Menace’ for some odd reason. She crunched her chip with the same smile, grabbing the bubble teas she left in the fridge and placing them in front of her friends, “Mango for Bea and Ube for Evelyn.” she ignored her friends’ confused stares, sipping her own strawberry one and popping the bubbles in her mouth.

The blonde waits for a little bit, then she waits until both of them were sipping the cold treat to finally say “So, do you guys remember Beatrice’s ex? The one who ruined her life and still tried to act like he had a chance? Well he messaged me and asked me about you.”

Beatrice stopped drinking, glad she didn’t choke on the bubble at the sudden mention of her ex-boyfriend, “W-What?”

“Yeah,he messaged me on insta. Asked me about you,all that shit.”

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,babes.”

There’s silence because they never expected to hear about Eric again, nor knowing that he messaged Shells. Shells. The one person he is scared of from the second he met her years ago. Beatrice just looks at the white bubbles in her cup, seeing the red and yellow liquids mix inside as she takes in what Shells said, “...what did he want?”

“He wanted to know about you, wanted to know how you were.” Shells looked so happy, “I told him you were probably busy giving Rooster attention,wink-wink, and he got pissed about it. Said I was in the whole scheme, it was crazy.”

“Scheme?”

“I think he still believes you are just,” she shrugs, “Not…really married to Rooster. I think he thinks it’s all a great joke being played on him.”

“That’s insane.” Evelyn says, giving Beatrice a worried look, “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Because Eric thinks he’s better than everyone, there’s no one who could best him and he likes to feel superior to others.” she explains while running her fingers on Nicole’s hair, “...but it’s…why would he do that? Why would he message you?”

“Beats the hell outta me,babes.” Shells shrugs, “I just cussed him out and told him if he ever did this again I’d kick his balls so hard he’d cough pubic hair.” and she says that with a smile, extremely pleased with herself, slurping her tea with the same grin.

Beatrice didn’t like how he showed up again. She thought that after she broke his nose, after he ran away from her at the reunion, he wouldn’t consider on asking about her or trying to see how she was again. “I don’t get it.” she mutters with a gentle shake of her head, “Why would he do this? It makes no sense.’

“I agree,”Evelyn says while supporting her chin on the back of her hand, “Why would he try to reach out to you now? Especially after everything.”

“Maybe it’s the universe aligning so Rooster can beat the shit out of him.” Shells suggests, “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

It would.

But Beatrice just chewed her lower lip, “It’s been…what, two years since I last saw him? It’s so odd to me, guys. It’s like he can’t believe I am married,it’s like he doesn’t get it.”

“Maybe he’s just stupid.” 

Shells and her colorful commentary never ceased to amuse them but Beatrice looked…annoyed and worried at the same time. Why the hell is he still trying to get information out of her? That makes absolutely no sense. And she didn’t want to worry about that when there were other things like the baby in her arms that was curiously looking at the bubble tea right now, “Maybe he is.” Beatrice whispered, “I…I just don’t like it.”

“I mean, no one does.” Evelyn adds, furrowing her brows, “Do you think he really believes you are making your whole relationship with Rooster?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised.” she mutters, “A lot of people seem to doubt that…ugh,I can’t think about it right now,I need to focus on Nikki and how we are going to do everything here without Roos. Jake and Bob said they’ll show up later this week and-”

“Oh! So will we then,right Ev? A big sleepover party!”

“No one said anything about sleeping over,Shells.”

“I know but wouldn’t it be fun?”

Evelyn flicks her eyes from Shells to Beatrice and Nicole, gesturing twice to the still awake baby in their friend’s arms. Shells finally remembers that the reasons for a sleepover, especially when there’s a one month old baby involved, shouldn’t even exist, “...oh.”

 Evelyn sighs with annoyance before turning towards Beatrice “We’ll stop by, you won’t be alone.”

“I know.’ Beatrice grins, “And I appreciate you guys a lot because of it…it’s just,you know, it’s strange. She feels it too and…I don’t know,I don’t want to do a bad job.” Nicole’s light green eyes meet her mother’s and her tiny hand comes up to touch her mother’s lips. Beatrice couldn’t help but kiss the little palm and keep it close to her face, “I felt so bad seeing her cry.”

Evelyn parted her lips to speak, closed them, then opened them again, “Do you have something that Rooster used before he left?” 

“Oh,uh, there’s one of his shirts.”

“You can hang it by Nikki’s crib when she’s asleep…it’s what my mother did to me with one of my dad’s shirts…It helped a little, at least until you can talk to him.”

Beatrice thinks about it but agrees, mentally glad to be done on the Eric subject and focusing on Rooster instead. As always, he was a much better thought than her ex ever was. “I’ll do that, thanks Ev.”

“You are welcome.” a pause, “Wait, did you just bring me over because you wanted to talk about how you dealt with Eric?”

Shells smiles, slurping what was left of her bubble tea, “Yeah! I thought it’d be fun!”

Which then evolved into a back and forth of questions and amused answers that Beatrice couldn’t really add in, choosing to sip her tea in peace while relaxing from what happened earlier. Even if Eric was brought in conversation and even if she worried why he was still so…latched onto her, thinking of Rooster helped a whole lot.

…God, she hopes these three months go by fast.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

Today was such a busy, stressful day, that I felt so drained by the time I sat down to write this. BUT I did it and that's what matters. Thank you again for following along on this little journey with me. We're in the home stretch ❤️

19. Surprise hug

George swallowed hard, anxiety burning in his chest as he looked around at the mess surrounding him. He took a shaky breath. It was going to be okay, he tried to tell himself, even as his skin felt like it was crawling, an itch moving under the epidermis. He squeezed his eyes shut, maybe he would feel better if he didn’t look at it? He shook his head, his eyes snapping open once again, not looking at it was even worse, in his mind the disaster that was the kitchen took on a life of its own, growing and evolving and becoming even worse. He didn’t even know where to start, it wasn’t his mess, it wasn’t his responsibility but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to exist in the house, knowing that Matty had left the space in such a disarray. A flash of anger sparked in his stomach. Matty knew how he felt about things being a mess, and yet he left the kitchen in a sorry state anyway. 

He picked up the dirty mixing bowl that was left on the counter and brought it over to the sink. He wouldn’t do the dishes, he decided. He would just compile all of them in the sink for Matty to finish when he reappeared from wherever he had disappeared off to. Maybe he would be less bothered with all of the dishes in one place. He could then wipe the flour and what looked like melted chocolate off the counter, and throw the egg shells away, and also sweep. George wasn’t sure what the hell Matty had been making, or why he was even trying to cook in the first place, but he had made a mess.

George flinched, feeling a pair of arms wrap around his waist in a surprise hug, pulling him from his rapidly spiraling thoughts. 

“Hey,” said Matty, pressing his face against George’s back, his words muffled by the fabric of his tee shirt. “I’m going to clean this up, go sit down.” 

“I got it,” said George, still holding the mixing bowl but doing nothing to dislodge Matty from his person, instead letting himself sink into the comfort of the embrace. He could feel Matty’s chest rising and falling against his back, as he breathed, the comforting sensation making him smile despite himself. He both hated and loved that Matty’s simple presence was enough to keep his dark thoughts at bay. It scared him that one person held so much power. He also hated that Matty was standing behind him, telling him he was going to clean up his mess and George was still offering to clean it up. 

“No,” said Matty, tightening his grip on George’s middle, throwing his weight around to shift George away from the counter, still holding the mixing bowl. “I made the mess, I’ll clean it up, go sit down, I have a surprise for you anyway.” 

George sighed, disappointed as Matty stopped hugging him, but letting him take the mixing bowl. Matty sat it in the sink, while George sat down at the kitchen table, pointedly not letting himself look at the still messy counter. 

“I made a cake,” Matty said sheepishly, presenting George with a lopsided slick of chocolate cake. Matty had cut into it too soon, while it was still warm, meaning the frosting was down the side and the cake had lost its shape. 

“Fuck,” said George, surprised by the tears burning in his eyes. “I love you.” 

Matty blushed. 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

#allylikethecat #January OTP Prompts #Prompt Fills #Prompt Fill #Gatty #Matty Fic #Keep it Kind #disclaimer this is another one i did not proof read i just said eh good enough and tossed it into the world #thank you for being so lovely and supportive of these #feel free to continue ignoring them though #especially this one lol

[butraura]

Hiii 💕💕💕

Sending you this prompt:

“Get out” “A-Are you sure?” “I said Get out!”

TRIGGER WARNING: PLEASE READ TAGS

Buck had been pretty quiet these last few days, and particularly distanced from the group. It seemed to be a product of his own making, though, because everyone else was just as confused as Eddie was about the whole ordeal. 

Chimney had gone so far as to invite Buck out with him (plus, Hen, Albert, and Eddie, of course) for karaoke night at the bar. The man turned him down without a second thought.

The ocean blue of his eyes was a deep blue sea kind of dark today, and he had circles under them. Eddie kept trying to engage, but the more he did, the more Buck retreated. By the end of shift, Buck was clocked out, changed, and pulling out of the parking lot before Eddie could even get out of the locker room.

He called Carla to ask if she’d be okay watching Christopher a little longer. Carla, ever the saint, brushed him off. Of course, she’d said. He drives to Buck’s apartment and parks in his usual space (Buck pays monthly for an additional parking space for when he has visitors - mostly Eddie). He checks to make sure he has his key to Buck’s unit, then heads up the elevator to his floor.

He stands outside the door for a moment, working up the courage to knock. He probably is only 5-10 minutes behind Buck, but who knows what can happen in that length of time? Eddie’s seen it himself; life changes on a dime.

He knocks. He hadn’t heard any noise from inside the unit beforehand, but now it feels like time stands still.

He knocks again. “Buck?” he calls softly through the door, “it’s Eddie.” He waits a minute, then tries once more. “Buck, it’s Eddie, open up.”

No one answers.

“Alright, I’m coming in.” He unlocks the door swiftly and lets himself into the unit. He doesn’t see Buck. He jogs upstairs to the loft and doesn’t find him. He hears a clanging in the bathroom downstairs and immediately runs down to open the door.

He finds it locked. “Buck, it’s me,” his voice gets louder.

“Go away,” Buck mumbles back through the translucent door.

Eddie is taken aback, but persists. “Buck, what’s going on?” he demands. “What are you doing? Let me in.” Fear creeps up his neck like a blush but his blood runs cold. He is suddenly terrified.

“Leave me alone,” Buck calls. “Just… leave.”

“Buck, come on.” He jiggles the doorknob impatiently, trying to will it to unlock itself. “It’s me, please.” 

“I’m fine, Eddie,” Buck lies. Eddie hears the sounds of water running from the sink faucet. “Get out.”

“A-are you sure?” Eddie isn’t sure. There’s a sudden hiss from Buck’s side of the door, and the vague shape of his body seizes. Eddie watches through it, trying his best to unscramble the disoriented image. “Buck, I-”

“I said, get out!” Buck snapped back, the volume in his voice making Eddie recoil. Eddie takes a step back, but sees the distorted shape of Buck start to kneel inside the bathroom. “Damn it,” the man whispers to himself. 

“Buck?” Eddie tries again worriedly.

Buck appears to clamor for something on the bathroom counter (at least, that’s what Eddie thinks he can make out through the glass). Then, he slips, something toppling loudly to the floor.

“Buck!” Eddie is shaking. Buck’s silhouette is sluggish, but crawls to the bathroom door. Eddie hears the lock turn and Buck collapses inside. Gratefully, the door swings outward, and when he opens it, the mess he’s met with makes his stomach somersault.

There is blood… everywhere.

“Oh, my God,” Eddie’s breath hitches. He immediately reaches for Buck’s arms to pull him from the bathroom quickly and Buck’s left wrist slips from his grasp, the blood making everything slick and slippery. He’s unconscious now, his long eyelashes shielding his eyes from the terror of the situation.

Eddie calls 9-1-1 (hands-free, because even if his hands weren’t soaked, he’d be busy finding dressings to apply to Buck’s arms).

The paramedics are on their way in no time. Eddie expertly dresses the deep slice up Buck’s arms, then holds them above his head, close to Eddie’s chest. He starts rocking soothingly (to soothe Buck or himself, who even knows).  “Oh, Evan,” he cries quietly. Please don’t die.

Thank you for the prompt! @steadfastsaturnsrings

#TW: self harm #tw: mental health #tw: depression #tw: suidice #tw: suicide #911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #asked and answered #writing prompt #steadfastsaturnsrings

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Evrart’s Theme

3. "Does this mean if I do things for you I will get my gun back?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Damn it, Harry, that's exactly what it means!" He turns to the lieutenant. "I am only kidding of course."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Of course," the lieutenant replies dryly. "I understand. We help you -- you help us."

Task complete: Track down your gun

+10 XP

2. “I want to talk about the hanging.”

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, of course. That's your main thing here. That's *why* you're in Martinaise." He nods. "I know everything that goes on around here. And I would *love* to help you, like I'm helping you with the body and your lost gun..."

"I mean, it's no secret that the lynching is connected to the strike -- so much to talk about! Honestly, it's been weighing on me so heavily. I understand -- you need to *interview* me…"

Secret task complete: Interview the Union boss

+10 XP

"I sense there's a *but*."

Say nothing.

EVRART CLAIRE - "...but there's a *thing* that's been keeping me up at night. I *want* to talk about the hanging. I mean... if we could just calmly talk, exchange information, we could blow this thing wide open!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes. That sounds good," the lieutenant says with a slow nod. "Let's do that."

EVRART CLAIRE - "But I *can't* think straight with this thing weighing on me..." Suddenly, he slaps himself on the forehead. "You're police officers, aren't you? I have a crazy idea. You guys are basically door-opening machines. Incredibly talented at opening doors."

"I've opened a few doors in my life."

"You heard wrong, Evrart. We're not."

"Kim, is that true? Are we door opening machines?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'm not sure I understand." He looks to the Union boss. "If you're asking us to break down someone's door, it's not going to happen."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Come now. I just need you to go open a *little* door for me -- and leave it unlocked. A simple thing. Absolutely nothing shady about it."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - An excellent opportunity presents itself, sire! You could win the trust of the arch-liar, pretend to play into his hand -- then, should you wish, bend his efforts towards your own!

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - The stars aligned into a cosmic frown here. He has your fate decided. Bide your time, however, and let the stars continue their course -- and that frown shall turn into a smile. Only if you play along...

"Why don't you just open it yourself?"

"Whose door is it?"

"I bet you don't even know anything about the hanging."

"Damnit, fine, I'll look into it, we need to talk about that murder." (Accept the task.)

"I can't accept this thing." (Refuse the task -- for now.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry, I'm a very busy man and, more importantly, I don't have that extraordinary physique you do." He slams his fists together. "You look like you could run around all day!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "You want to send someone a message that the police are working for you."

EVRART CLAIRE - "I repeat, I'm a very, *very* busy man, Mr. Kitsuragi, and therefore I must occasionally enlist... outside help." He turns back to you. "So what will it be, Harry?"

2. "Whose door is it?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, no one's. It's just a weasel. A weasel lives there. Nothing for you to worry about."

3. "What do you mean by a 'weasel'?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "A loud blabbering weasel. When weasels feel no one is watching, they start acting *foolishly...*" He removes his glasses and rubs his nose.

"Just go there, unlock the door and leave it open. It's been such a burden on me, Harry. I just want this to be over so I can discuss business with you." He puts his glasses back on.

4. "I bet you don't even know anything about the hanging."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry, my dear friend." He sinks deeper into the chair. "I am what people call a *local big wig*. I know everything that goes on in Martinaise."

Regrettably, we really can't afford to say no here. I debated letting you vote on this, but we would just have to come back.

5. "Damnit, fine, I'll look into it, we need to talk about that murder." (Accept the task.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "Fantastic, my friend! Just let me know when it's done and we can take our friendship to the next level." He flicks his fingers.

"You can get the key from Mañana -- he's down by the gates. Mañana's like a free agent in the Union. Special operations. Hardened socialist. A real free-thinker too. He'll tell you precisely where the door is." He smiles, obviously satisfied with how well he planned it all out. "One last thing, Harry."

New task: Open apartment door for Evrart

"Just open the door. You don't need to go in or anything. I just want that weasel to come home and see the unlocked door."

2. "I'm looking into your shady brew."

EVRART CLAIRE - "I don't know what that means, Harry. Shady brew? There are so many moving parts in my operation I can't keep track of them all..."

"You know what? Don't even tell me. Whatever it is -- do it. Surprise me!" He reconsiders. "Just one thing… if you can, make it even *shadier*."

DRAMA [Easy: Success] - He sincerely has no idea what you were talking about -- and he doesn't care either.

2. "I met Joyce, the company representative."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, that's very nice. I haven't gotten around to her yet -- I'm very, very busy, you see." He adjusts a button on his sleeve. "I hope you're getting along."

"One thing I wanna make very clear, Harry, is that this is not some kind of Union *versus* Corporation situation. Everyone is just pals here."

"Just pals?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "We're all trying to do what's best for Martinaise here." His smile widens. "Don't feel like you can't cooperate with her, because you and I are such good friends and I'm helping you get that nasty body down from the tree... *and* with finding your lost gun. I'm not a jealous guy."

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - Whoa... that's so nice of him. Suspiciously nice.

"Are you sure? I find it a little odd."

"What happened to the previous negotiator, Mr. Gaumont?"

"Joyce said the previous Union leader vanished under suspicious circumstances."

"Evrart, Joyce seems to think the Union is low-balling her."

"Why haven't you let her in to see you?"

"Okay, let's talk about something else." (Conclude.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "I'm just a nice guy, Harry. I wouldn't be where I am now if I wasn't nice." He slams his fist into his hand. "Politics is all about *emotions*, and I want you to have positive emotions when you think of me."

2. "What happened to the previous negotiator, Mr. Gaumont?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "What do you mean, Harry?" The big man sounds annoyed. "Nothing. I let him go."

"He made concessions for the company in previous negotiations. Why would you let an ally like that go?"

"Okay, another question?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "He's an old man, Harry. I wanted him to spend more time with his family." He looks down and sighs. "God knows how long he's got left."

"You called him a midget."

"Okay, another question?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry!" he exclaims, indignant. "I have *little people* in my organization. I would never call someone a midget. What is this?"

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think *you're* a midget, Harry." Abruptly, he smiles and changes his tone. "I'm only kidding, Harry. You're not a midget. No one is. We're pals."

Maybe just repeating everything Joyce told us isn't the best idea. Let's keep doing it.

3. "Joyce said the previous Union leader vanished under suspicious circumstances."

EVRART CLAIRE - "*Vanished*?! Harry, the woman left her casserole in the oven and couldn't make it here in time for the voting."

"'Oh, did I leave my casserole on? Better go home and check. The election can wait!'" The man frowns, disapprovingly. "When she got back the whole thing was over."

DRAMA [Easy: Success] - Wait... there was no mention of a casserole from Joyce.

"Funny, Joyce didn't mention any casserole."

"Another question then?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry, Harry, Harry!" He flicks his fingers. "Do not fixate on this little matter. Maybe it was a rabbit stew... or a hair dryer, or an iron. The point is, her heart wasn't in it. Mine *was*."

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - That much is true. His heart *truly* is in it. Though you wouldn't think so by looking at him.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - If it's spilled blood you're looking for then there certainly isn't any in his expression, or demeanour now.

4. "Evrart, Joyce seems to think the Union is low-balling her."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Yes, yes -- *low-balling*. Of course..." He's suddenly very serious. "This isn't a casino, Harry. Real people, real livelihoods are at stake here. But everything's a casino for those rich types..."

COMPOSURE [Easy: Success] - His expression makes it clear: this is childish and irresponsible behaviour.

5. "Why haven't you let her in to see you?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "*If* she actually wants to see me, she will find a way. Any good negotiator would. And I just don't have anything to discuss with a bad negotiator."

VOLITION [Trivial: Success] - He doesn't *want* to see her. It's simple as that.

6. "Okay, let's talk about something else." (Conclude.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "Of course, Harry. Let me just assure you one more time -- it's perfectly okay to share anything we discuss here with this... *Joyce*. This is a completely transparent organization."

"I have no interest in what she is doing, but I myself have *nothing* to hide. Your business is your business and I respect your privacy. Just remember, none of this..." He makes an all-encompassing gesture. "... is secret."

"Tell her about all of it. My brother's picture, my singing swordfish clock." He looks around. "Tell her how overweight I am and how I'm helping you find your lost gun. Tell her about everything -- Evrart doesn't mind."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - It *is* rather interesting to tell people things about each other isn't it? It was nice telling him about her right now...

3. "What's in the container that's outside your office?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "My dear Harry, there are literally millions of containers in this harbour. I couldn't possibly remember what's in all of them."

"There's something *special* about it. It was attached to the Kvalsund crane."

"Never mind the container."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry, you smooth-talking son of a bitch," he says with the fondest of smiles. "Time is a precious resource and I don't have enough of it to count containers with you."

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - Smooth-talking? Maybe *that's* the way to go about opening the container! You should at least *try* convincing it.

4. "Evrart, I'm going to leave now, but we might talk again later." [Leave.]

EVRART CLAIRE - "Wait..." He leans reaches into his drawer and pulls out a plastic card. "You need this to get in and out through the gate."

"Um, thanks. I was wondering how I'm supposed to get out."

"Great! Wouldn't want to get stuck in here."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Here -- you're one of us now. A real red and white Union man. Take care, Harry."

Item Gained: Débardeurs' Union Card

The card is added to our keys, so it doesn't have an item description.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #evrart claire