#but to me it really seemed like he was trying to get her to join the war

[lilasamaaa]

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

[uranometrias]

❝ GILDED LILY ❞

♯  .  . ︒୭

this is a small excerpt from my spence fic that i made x reader! reader has a bf + a baby! timeline wise this takes place pre-s1 + reader is only 21 years old. she works in comms with jj.

"She hates me." and it's an exhaled comment Spencer is almost unaware he's making as his eyes stayed glued on the newest member of the team. Derek was to his right, eyebrow quirking upward as he looked between Spencer, and you. Your heeled boots clack against the ground as you walked ─── nay strutted across the bullpen towards the kitchenette.

Most likely to grab a cup of coffee, as your tenure with the bureau had taught them, Y/N L/N was addicted to caffeine and sugar. Derek wants to comment that it's too soon to tell, and honestly it had been. You'd really only been around for a few weeks, it was possible you were still just getting used to everyone.

Besides, if Derek had joined the bureau with the same circumstances as you, he wouldn't be itching to make new friends, either. You've tossed your head back laughing at something JJ has said, and Derek winces. Okay, maybe there was a slight difference in how you interacted with everyone else and with Spencer.

You'd been working directly under JJ for three weeks now, and every morning you'd come in and greet everyone on the team. Everyone apart from Spencer that is. "Maybe she just need a little more time." Derek offers, but it's clear in his tone that he's not completely convinced that 'time' was all that it took.

"I don't think so." Spencer denies, and he doesn't really know why it's bothering him so bad, your clear and purposeful indifference towards him. Maybe because he'd half expected you to be an angel from the way your older cousin from the Forensics Unit had described you. And in truth, you probably were the angel your cousin had claimed you to be, you and JJ had been more than attached at the hip.

Even Hotch and Gideon seemed to be less uptight when you were around, Spencer had even managed to catch Hotch stifling a small smile at one of your jokes. It was clear you'd won the affections of everyone else, and it was clear in how you interacted with them all, that you didn't mind being around them either.

So why was he the odd man out?

"Well, have you done anything to get on her bad side?" Derek questions, and it's clear that he's trying his hand at support. It was Spencer's first year in the unit, and he was on the younger side, so despite some of Derek's personal opinions on the young man's naivety and otherwise polar opposite personality, he couldn't dig into him too bad about this.

Spencer takes in his question and thinks it over, mind raking over every single one of your verbal interactions thus far, and finds himself coming up blank. He hadn't done anything to offend her, he recalled wholeheartedly that she'd even offered him a smile when they first met. "No." Spencer says, and then Derek is snorting.

He looks across the way again, and the two girls are no longer in such deep discussion. You're leaning against the counter, mug of coffee held up to your lips as you too scanned the entirety of the bullpen. Derek watches as you turn your sights on Spencer, who's none the wiser as he continues to internally panic, and overthink any sort of perceived wrongdoings he might have been guilty of.

It's there that for Derek it kind of clicks. He looks between the two of you again, and finds himself chuckling under his breath, head shaking from side to side as Spencer looks up. He assumes the duo lock eyes for a second. It doesn't last. Mostly because you are immediately placing the fresh cup of coffee in the sink, and scurrying off, likely to hide out in JJ's office.

Spencer is looking back to Derek hopelessly, and he can't help but be a bit tickled at the way this was cutting Spencer up inside. It was a little funny, especially now that you had so accidentally dropped the piece that put it all together. He remembered how your cousin, had mentioned a boyfriend. Some guy that was super clingy, and kind of hovered around you like a sickness.

It was clear what your whole family thought of him, but he was the father of your newborn, which meant it was important for you two to stay together. Duty to your family though, didn't negate reality... or better put the duty to your heart. Derek supposes that's why he chooses to throw Spencer a bone.

He pats him roughly on the shoulder. Once, twice, three times, the palm of his hand colliding roughly with the curve as Spencer winces. He lets out a quiet 'Ow' that Derek ignores as he turns to the kid. "Well if you haven't done anything wrong, then she can't possibly hate you." Derek promises, and Spencer's eyebrows raise at the simplicity of the remark.

It's when Derek's expression turns cheeky that he's worried. "Have you ever thought that maybe she's so jumpy because she likes you?"

Spencer doesn't get a chance to answer, instead he gets to watch Derek Morgan walk away, a quiet, but much more audible chuckle escaping him as he shakes his head. Spencer is glued to his spot, Derek's words repeating like an echo, as he blinks over and over again. His hand curls into a fist at his side, hands bunching at the fabric of his pants as he feels his mind working overdrive.

He thinks that maybe Derek is pulling some cruel prank on him, and he sours. What a rude thing to say. Derek was better off telling him that you had been put off by his refusal to accept handshakes, or that you felt his cardigans and sweaters, and funky socks were childish. He resolves himself to these examples he's conjured, being the more likely cause of your odd behavior, and he reminds himself to never vent his problems to Derek Morgan ever again.

There were a lot of surprises and shocks in the world, things that broke past statistics, and precedents. He knew (or at least he was steadily learning) that things in the world were not as Black and White as they may have been in books, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that girls like Y/N L/N did not ever fall for the guys like Spencer Reid. Never ever. As he heads back to his desk to get started on his work for the day, he pretends to be okay with that fact.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst

[scoonsalicious]

1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts. 

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in. 

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?” 

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!” 

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn���t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification. 

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said. 

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager. 

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[cookiesaddict]

Full Moon + Apology Tour Episode Analysis/Prediction

Full Moon

The episode stars with Stolas and Blitz waking up on the day of the full moon. Their duet starts, Blitz sings how excited he is for their usual full moon date and the things he wants to to do Stolas in bed. Stolas is excited as well, but anxious. he wants to end their arrangement, and give Blitz to choice to stay or go.

Blitz arrives at imp headquarters. Blitz is in his formal clothes, ready for his and Stolas’ date. He puts Moxxie in charge, and leaves all of his paper work for Moxxie to deal with while he is gone (poor Moxxie).

But before visiting Stolas, Blitz wants to make their night extra special by giving Stolas a romantic gift. With his shopping bag in his hand, he goes to the lust ring asking Fizz for help to find the perfect gift for Stolas.

Blitz arrives at Stolas’ palace, the gift is in his hands what seems to be candles I think? Blitz thinks they’re going to go bed like usual, only to find out that this is not what’s going to happen. Stolas admits to ending the arrangement. Soon, an argument between the two breaks out.

Blitz feels used now that Stolas is ending their deal, thinking that Stolas doesn’t want him anymore. Their argument escalates. And instead of letting Stolas in, Blitz starts to push Stolas away by probably saying something very hurtful to him. Blitz now realizing that he has hurt Stolas badly, desperately tries to reach out to him by trying to grab his hand. But as he does so, Stolas kicks him out of his palace by using a portal. It’s too late now, Blitz has lost Stolas. Then the episode ends.

Viv has said that “You’re losing me” by Taylor Swift is a very Stolas coded song. A part of the lyrics goes like this:

“Now, you're runnin' down the hallway

And you know what they all say

You don't know what you got until it's gone”

By losing Stolas, Blitz realizes now what he had in Stolas and what he has lost. Or maybe he realizes this later in “Apology Tour”?

Apology Tour

(This one was really hard for me to predict. It could go in so many ways, so I’m most likely wrong.)

Blitz visits Stolas, probably to get back into Stolas’ good graces again. But Stolas is not having it. He is still very angry and hurt. He is obviously not happy to see Blitz again. “Do you feel any remorse for what you do?” Judging by this line, Blitz is likely downplaying everything and acting like nothing has happened (Like he did with Barbie). Either way, Blitz attempt to apologize and win Stolas back has failed. So he goes back home, and starts crying on the couch? (him crying on the couch could very well be from another episode)

Eventually, Stolas decides to join Verosika on tour. Verosika likely wants to help Stolas with his break up, and wants to give him a change to vent about Blitz and pour his heart out on stage. Blitz decides to go to Verosika’s concert for some reason. Maybe he goes to the concert to try to apologize to Stolas again? He did seemed to be really focused into trying to apologize to Stolas at the beginning of the ep, so is he is going to try again?

Blitz soon finds out he is not welcome at the concert, which is why he is dressed up as a ghost or something so he could sneak in unoticed? It’s a Halloween concert anyways. Eventually, Blitz bumps into Verosika. Maybe it will result in them finally making up and for Blitz to apologize to her?

The concert begins, and Stolas finally takes the stage. Unaware that Blitz is there, he starts to sing. Judging by the text on the banner, Stolas is singing about his grudge towards Blitz and how hurt he is. The scene with the shattered mirrors with Blitz’ reflection in it during Stolas’ song, also supports that it is possibly a grudge song. It could also be Stolas singing how hurt he is, rather than it being a grudge song, which seems more likely to me?

But maybe as the song progresses, it gradually turns into a love song because he loves Blitz just too much to stay angry at him? While Stolas is singing, Blitz is hearing every word. Blitz looks at him. Is he touched by Stolas’ love song? I think Blitz now knows that Stolas genuinely does love him, since Stolas doesn’t know he is there. So there are no reasons for Blitz to not believe everything Stolas is singing. Not just that, but it will also gave Blitz an insight on how much Stolas is hurting.

However, it seems that Stolas isn’t angry at Blitz anymore. Because in the next scene, Blitz and Stolas appears to be talking (Blitz still has that same ghost disguise on). Looks like Blitz apologized to Stolas, and that they are finally making up. Maybe even confessing their feelings for one another? Who knows, maybe decide to take things slow? It could also be that they just stay friends for now. But I feel like they’re definitely making up. The episode ends.

(Also There is also a whole b plot with m&m and Loona fighting a robot at the lust ring. Not sure if it’s from the same episode? Also I have literally no clue why the robot is there.)

#helluva boss #stolitz #helluva boss stolitz #vivziepop #vivzieverse #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss blitzo #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss season two #helluva boss s2 #helluva boss season 2 #helluva blitz #blitzø #blitzo #stolas #stolas goetia #vivienne medrano

[haikyu-mp4]

Teamwork

word count; 1346 – f!reader

Kageyama was always persistent when he set his mind to something, and most of that dedication had always gone to volleyball. However, something else had been taking over his perfect concentration ever since the day he first talked to you. He’s in his second year at Karasuno, and it’s his first time experiencing something that feels like a crush.

You’re in Karasuno’s volleyball club, a starting player on the girls’ team. More specifically, you play in the position of setter. This year’s new captains for each team agreed that doing a joined practice would be a fun way to strengthen both teams, and this fuelled a competitive spark between you and Kageyama. You both quickly realised that Kageyama was much better than you, but that just gave you even more opportunity to learn from him. Instead of competition. it turned into friendship.

After that you kept stopping by each other when the other had practice, giving each other both teasing criticism and helpful tips, also making it very obvious that you were there to watch each other. There is no way the other members of your teams wouldn’t notice how you two were drawn to each other, but no one really witnessed any decent flirting.

Kageyama came to practice looking particularly bothered one day, making Ennoshita laugh at the pout on the youngest second-year’s face as he encouraged him to get to practising. No one dared poke the bear. No one except Hinata.

“Poutyyama!” he screeched, dancing around the taller player with a smile. “You were annoyed even before you saw me today, what’s up?” he asked, obviously aiming more at teasing than helping. However, Kageyama finally fell into a state of desperation. He kept glancing angrily between Hinata and the volleyball in his hands. He mumbled something under his breath that no one could pick up on, everyone in the gym slowing to a stop to watch as the boy didn’t immediately kick Hinata’s butt. This made Kageyama’s blush spread from his ears over his temples. “What was that?”

“I don’t know how to flirt,” he mumbled, this time a bit more audible. A snort came from behind him, where Yamaguchi and Tsukishima covered their mouths so Ennoshita wouldn’t yell at them.

“Flirt?” Hinata repeated loudly, looking absolutely horrified at the concept. “Who are you trying to flirt with?” This made Kageyama finally react, pouncing on his friend in aggression. Tanaka came walking over to separate them, Nishinoya trailing close behind with his chin held high.

“Obviously, it’s the pretty setter from the girls’ team,” Tanaka announced.

Nishinoya nodded. “It’s so obvious, now listen to the love doctors,” he said, putting his hands together like he was praying and catching Kageyama’s attention. “How have you advanced so far?”

“Well…” Kageyama takes a moment to think, lowering his shoulders. “I told her that her spike serves were great, showed her how to make the set curve and stop, or tried to but she didn’t really get it, and I bought her an extra box of milk when I went to the vending machine,” he listed. The rest of the boys blinked silently at him for a moment. Not exactly romantic, but it could be worse.

Tanaka put an arm over his shoulders. “Have you asked her to go out with you? Marry you?” he suggested as if it was the greatest tip ever. Kinoshita scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You can’t just do that right away. We could ask someone on the girls’ team if she likes him back first?” he suggested, a bit more shy about romantic advances than his friends.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ennoshita said, but he looked hesitant. “But there is something sweet about telling her you like her. It seems to me like she likes you too.”

Kageyama looked at his captain with hopeful eyes, clinging on to every word. “It does?”

“Hopeless…” came from Tsukishima along with a sigh.

“Well, what else did you expect,” Hinata added and crossed his arms, narrowly dodging Kageyama’s punch.

Yamaguchi chuckled but engaged nonetheless. “You can ask her to hang out outside of school and club,” he suggested, which was actually the best option presented to him so far. A couple of murmurs went around the room in agreement, and then Ennoshita clapped his hands.

“Let’s get back to practice! If she likes Kageyama, she’ll like whatever he decides to do.”

Kageyama was staring at a message from you with a weird smile and a calculating mind after getting home for the night. You wrote him saying you look forward to the joined practice you had scheduled after school tomorrow. What is he supposed to do? How does he return your energy, as he read in that one article he got through before getting bored of reading?

Ennoshita thinks you like him back. Maybe he should just combine all the tips he got into one. That has to make it a failsafe. As long as he leaves out the marriage part…

He slowly types it out, making sure there are no spelling errors before sending it and finally putting his phone to the side so he can try to sleep.

I like you, will you go out with me? We could do something outside of school and club activities.

Oh boy, did his teammates have a field day with his chosen tactic when he told them about it at morning practice. You hadn’t answered yet, but Kageyama wasn’t too worried about it as it was still early.

The third years looked especially pale, while the second years were mostly laughing.

“You did all of it, how creative!” Narita said in the most positive manner he could manage, making up for the others who were sitting quietly in their guilt over saying anything yesterday and then leaving him to his own defences. “Let us know when she answers.”

Kageyama nodded with a decisive smile, still pretty happy with his solution. Practice commenced and the team mostly forgot about the situation for a few hours until they returned to the locker rooms all sweaty. Kageyama was pulling on his clean shirt when there was a vibration on the bench below him. His phone.

Meanwhile, you had arrived at school half an hour before that, gathering as many of your friends as you could for help. You were practically buzzing with excitement, as Kageyama was the last person you expected to be this forward about such a topic. The girls squealed, and even a teacher hushing you in passing couldn’t calm down your energy levels. You all spent a while deciding on what to answer and then you chose to add the smiley at the end yourself, butterflies in your stomach as you sent the message.

That sounds great, actually :D

Kageyama didn’t even notice most of his team looking over his shoulder with loose jaws as they read your response, as he was too busy freaking out over it himself. “Yamaguchi!” he yelled, yelling again in surprise when he turned around to see the guy standing there already, along with a few of the others who were more shameless in their snooping. “Help.”

It took some work, but you two were finally enjoying your first date, going for ice cream in the sun and getting to know each other more. 

Hinata and Tanana were ready to pretend they had no idea this was where they went for the date in case anyone caught them spying, but were amused to bump into three of the girls from your team as well, who were also trying to find the best spot for watching you without being spotted. Their precious setters, somehow mastering communication when it was with each other. When you got home, you would blame your red cheeks on a sunburn, for sure.

But it was actually from Kageyama awkwardly kissing your cheek before leaving.

You see, Kageyama had texted Sugawara last night for tips, and he told him that if he felt like the date had gone well, he could kiss your cheek before he left.

masterlist

/I imagine Yachi wasn't there when they gave him tips and when Hinata told her everything she got so stressed out on Kageyama's behalf, she's so precious

#haikyuu #haikyu #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #haikyu x reader #karasuno #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu fluff

[mysouleaten]

BRAID MY HAIR....PLEASE!

PLATONIC! younger! yotsurugi siblings x older sister! reader

summary... you're braiding the hair of the longer-haired siblings and it seems hibaru wants his hair braided too!

warnings... fluff, brothers bickering, the siblings are around 7-11 y/o, hibaru and kou fight, name trying to keep peace, name is blood-related to hibaru

sitting cross-legged on the couch, [name] the oldest of the yotsurugi siblings is braiding the ninth adopted son of the yotsurugi-- taira

taira was sitting down on the floor in front of his older sister and watching a show that was playing two men fighting with katanas

many of his siblings were here, talking amongst themselves or resting by [name] kuran was laying his back against the left side of [name] and kou was sitting beside him on the floor as well

shikaba was laying his head on the arm rest of the couch while laying his feet on [name]'s lap

shio and satsuki were sitting together playing cards and his other brothers went to join them, his other sister was also sitting on the floor with him but was on her phone--seeming to play a game on it

while....hibaru and terasu... were nowhere to be found, hopefully not causing any trouble..

BAM !

he spoke too soon...

"[NAME]! I WANNA- huh? what are you doing?"

hibaru jumped up and leaned over the right side of the couch to peek at what his older sister was doing, terasu doing the same

she looked over at him and smiled "I'm braiding taira's hair"

taira looked over his shoulder and lifted his chin, he was proud of his hair "it's cool, right?"

hibaru nodded "ya! really cool!.. [name]! can you braid my hair too??"

[name] laughed lightly "i don't think you have enough hair for me to braid, hibaru"

hibaru's happy smile faded off his face and he touched his hair, but his smile came back "don't worry! ill grow it out like taira's! then you can braid it!"

before [name] could answer the cheerful brother, kou did

"pft...doubt it.." kou remarked

hibaru whipped his head around with a scowl towards kou "what was that!?"

"i said! you're bald!" kou yelled, "kou..please-" [name] couldn't finish before hibaru grabbed the pillow under shikaba--who groaned-- and plunged it at kou's face "eek!!"

"hibaru!-" [name] got interrupted again by hibaru, he jumped over the backside of the couch right onto the half-asleep shikaba

"ow!! hibaru!"

hibaru couldn't apologize right that second and flew at kou and they both tumbled around the carpeted ground--shouting at each other

"take it back!"

"no! get off!"

"take it baack!!"

"ow! no!"

"[NAME]!!" both kou and hibaru shouted in unison

[name] had to put down the unfinished braid and stood up to lift hibaru off of kou "kou...hibaru, please" name pleaded

both of them looked up at their older sister's disappointed face, before hibaru hid his face into [name]'s neck and mumbled "he...called me bald.."

"you are.." kou murmured

"wha-" [name] placed her hand over hibaru's mouth "ah!.. no more of that"

she felt hibaru's cheeks puff up under her hand but she didn't acknowledge it, "kou, after I'm done braiding taira's hair, it'll be your turn, ok?"

kou shook his head in understanding, [name] then turned around to see kuran waiting patiently to lean his back onto his sister's side again, and taira was waiting for his braid to be finished

she sat cross-legged on the couch again and placed hibaru on her lap

she felt kuran lean on her side again and turned to shikaba "are you okay shika?"

"yeah..are you okay? im sorry for jumping on you.." hibaru apologized to his older brother

"yep, im okay...just got crushed..thats all" he yawned, he placed his feet onto terasu's lap--who was now sitting next to [name], terasu looked up at her and smiled "hello"

you smiled softly "hello" terasu--after smiling back-- rested his head on the side of your shoulder and watched the show that was continuing to play

carefully leaning over little hirabu she took taira's unfinished braid "here hibaru you can help me braid taira's hair, ok?"

"okay!" hibaru cheered

taira smiled softly at his younger brother's happy voice and relaxed into the bottom of the couch, kou also quietly leaned into taira's side

the other siblings seeing the relaxed state everyone else was on the couch, had made their way to them and sat in the open areas around their siblings

everyone happily watching the show together in peace

"I love all of you..so much" hibaru murmured and [name] kissed the top of his head

"we love you too...so much"

first short fic for astro royale!! I LOVE THEM SM<33 and sorry for any mistakes I didn't proofread

edit: ok everything should be edited now!

#OH MY BABYS!!! #astro royale #negai no astro #astro royale x reader #negai no astro x reader #hibaru yotsurugi #terasu yotsurugi #kou yotsurugi #taira yotsurugi #kuran yotsurugi #shio yotsurugi #satsuki yotsurugi #ken wakui #astro royale fluff #negai no astro fluff

[your-eternal-lies]

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter nine)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER NINE DANCERS IN THE DARK

Steve leans against the mirrored wall of the elevator, enjoying the sight of you in his arms a little too much to be normal. You’re playing with the neckline of his t-shirt, your fingers occasionally brushing up against the column of his throat, the curve of his Adam’s apple. 

You’re driving him absolutely bananas. He pictures it, him and you, outside the steel confines of your accidental prison. Maybe you’d take him to a dimly lit bar, the kind with peanut shells crunching underfoot and neon signs buzzing overhead. 

You would roll your eyes at his attempts to order something other than a beer, your mouth quirking up as he fumbles through a cocktail menu. 

“Trying to impress me, Rogers?” You would tease, your voice laced with mock incredulity while sipping something deceptively potent from a martini glass. 

“Is it working?” He’d volley back, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. And you would laugh, that easy melodious sound that seems to tickle him right down to his toes. 

“Come on, Captain Perfect,” your voice reaches him for real this time, and he looks down to see you glancing up at him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “We’ve talked about everything from your favourite colour to the last time you cried during a movie. I want to know… who was your first kiss?” 

He can feel his cheeks burning with a shade that probably matches his iconic shield. His tongue seems to tie itself into a patriotic knot as he stammers, “I… It’s not really… I mean, it was a long time ago.” 

You laugh airily as you observe his bashful squirming. “Was it before or after you became a super soldier? I’m picturing a handsome and earnest little Steve, all knees and elbows, fumbling his way through a peck on the lips.” 

“It was after,” he admits, the corners of his mouth reluctantly curving upward. “Her name was Susan. She was sweet, and she had hair like the sunset.”

“Well, that’s just adorable.” You smile, slapping him lightly on the chest. 

“We were at Coney Island,” he chuckles, brushing your hair back behind your shoulder. He pauses, collecting the memory like one might tenderly lift a fragile photograph. “I decided I was going to be brave.” 

“Ah, the bravery of young love,” you interject with a playful sigh. 

“Something like that,” he continues. “I bought her a hot dog and we rode on the Ferris wheel. When we got to the top, overlooking the ocean, and I figured it was now or never.” 

“And?” You prompt, entirely captivated despite yourself. 

“I leaned in, closed my eyes, and… missed,” Steve admits with a wry grin. “I ended up planting one right on her chin.” 

“Oh, Steve,” you giggle right into his ear, sending a jolt of shivers down his spine. He can’t help but join in on your laughter, his mingling with yours. “I see you’re not always Mr. Perfect. Just a regular guy who made a girl laugh on a Ferris wheel.” 

Regular. The word is foreign yet fitting as he looks down at you, your laughter subsiding into a warm smile that reaches your eyes, and feels a tug at his heart. 

Here, away from the world-saving and villain-chasing, he doesn’t have to be anyone but Steve for you, and even more miraculous, that seems to be enough. 

“You know what I haven’t done in a while?” He asks, his arms hanging loosely around your form. You quirk an inquisitive eyebrow, urging him to go on. He fishes out his phone and puts on an old tune, soft piano notes filling the air. “I haven’t gone dancing in eighty years.” 

“Dance? Here?” Your laughter hitches in your throat. The idea seems ludicrous; you’re stuck in an elevator, not a ballroom. But nevertheless, you straighten out of his arms, immediately lamenting the loss of his warmth. “I… Steve, I don’t know how.” 

Not for long, however, as he stands up after you. “I’ve got you.” 

He takes your hand gently, the other finding its spot in the curve of your waist with a certainty that sets butterflies free in your stomach. He lifts your arms, wrapping them around his broad shoulders. 

The space is cramped, so your movements are tentative at first, each step measured and careful. You begin to sway together, your bodies mere inches apart, and as you find your footing, something just clicks. 

“Relax, you’re doing great,” he murmurs, a smile playing on his lips as he notices the concentration etched on your face. The music swells, a crescendo that seems to command you to move, and instinctively, you respond. 

Steve guides you effortlessly as the song croons on about love in a bygone age. His hand is warm on your waist, his grip firm but gentle as if you’re something precious, while your own hands hold firmly onto his shoulders. 

You are even closer now, so close that you can count the shades of blue in Steve’s eyes. His hand slides from your waist to your back, his eyes never leaving yours as he dips you carefully. You feel a flutter in your stomach, a sensation that’s alien yet achingly familiar, like a forgotten dream surfacing. 

Your faces draw nearer as if pulled by an invisible string, and Steve whispers your name in a hushed voice, as if saying it is akin to invoking a spell, one that can break barriers and build bridges all in the same breath. 

Steve tilts his head, his lashes fluttering as his eyes dart towards your lips. You hold your breath, the moment suspended, a bubble of anticipation shimmering with the possibility of what could be—all sealed with a kiss. 

But reality has a peculiar sense of timing. 

“Hello?” A voice slices through the magic, sharp as shrapnel and twice as sobering. “Who’s in there?” 

Steve blinks, the spell broken as you both turn towards the source of the intrusion.

“...Sharon?” 

« Chapter 8 || Chapter 10 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

[gogobootz1]

The Mentor Pt. 7

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: Your Hunger Games strategy goes off the rails when a friend comes to you with a plan

Part 6

“Look kid, this isn’t like last time, you’re not on a level playing field here.” 

Katniss crossed her arms as she leaned back into the couch of District Twelve’s Capitol penthouse. 

“These are Capitol darlings, lethal weapons, murderers one and all, gathered neatly together for an All Stars round. Of these stars, you are space dust. Recency may be on your side, but little else. They are older, stronger,” 

Peeta effectively interrupted, “Who are they?” 

“What?” Haymitch blinked. 

“Take us through them. Surely you can offer some insight, after knowing them all these years,” he shrugged. 

“I’ll ignore the fact you just called me old,” the older man walked off to grab the tablet that controlled the TV. District by district, he took his tributes through their competition. 

When he got to District Four, Katniss beat him to it, “Finnick O’Dair, right?” 

“Yes,” Haymitch confirmed, “he won his games at fourteen. Youngest ever. Extremely humble.” The image of the tall, bronzed man sauntering across their screen seemed to disagree. 

“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned. 

“Yes! I’m kidding,” Haymitch snapped. “He’s a,” he dramatically moved his hair, “peacock. A total preener. But he’s the Capitol Darling, they love him here. Charming, smart, and very skilled at combat. Especially in water.” 

“What about weaknesses?” Peeta leaned forward. 

“One,” Haymitch confirmed, “Mags. She was his mentor and basically raised him. If he’s trying to protect her in any way it exposes him.” 

“A guy like that has to know she’s not gonna make it. I bet when it really comes down to it he won’t protect her,” Katniss shrugged. 

“Well, Katniss,” Haymitch said, “I just hope when she goes she goes quickly. She’s actually a wonderful lady.” 

Katniss blinked guiltily at his statement, and Peeta leaned back into the couch. 

“But if he does ally with her it’ll make him less of a threat,” Peeta offered. 

Haymitch let out a sour little laugh, “Oh, we’ll get to his allies.” 

Peeta winced when Haymitch later marked the intimidating young woman from District Seven as one, and was surprised at the lack of others. 

By the time he got to Ten, Katniss was antsy, “Can we wrap this up?” 

“Sure if you want to ignore a huge fucking threat,” Haymitch shrugged. 

“It looks like a strong gust of wind would blow him over,” Katniss complained. 

“Not him,” her mentor snapped, clicking forward, “Darla Kennedy.” 

Their attention went back to the screen when another young woman appeared, stepping forward and giving an assured nod to the cameras. 

“Darla is young, well connected, and deadly with a whip,” Haymitch began. 

“Who’s that behind her?” Peeta interrupted, noticing the woman peace keepers were escorting off stage.  

“Well, since you mentioned it,” he rewinded the feed to when the young women were standing next to each other. “That,” he pointed to the one they weren’t familiar with, “is Darla’s mentor. One of the most popular tributes to ever come out of the games, and maybe the best mentor I’ve ever met.” 

“How do you mean?” Peeta pressed.

“She saved Darla’s life about four times during her games with just wit and a warm smile,” he shrugged, “if she wanted a sponsor there’d be twenty knocking down her door. Kid’s a magnet, and a brilliant strategist. Not to mention, a great drinking buddy,” Haymitch finished. 

“Not helpful,” Katniss griped, and the man rolled his eyes. 

“Point is, if you don’t think she’s calling on every favor she’s owed and pulling every string in her arsenal to save that girl, you’re dead wrong. Darla’s practically all she has left,” Haymitch elaborated, “but both Ten ladies are good friends with Finnick.” 

“Finnick?” Peeta asked, surprised. 

“Not that he’d need the help with sponsors,” Haymitch shrugged, “but no doubt it’ll be a scary alliance. One you might consider joining.” 

“No way,” Katniss scoffed. 

“Like I said, I’m friends with their mentor, I could hook you up,” he doubled down. 

“Not interested,” she grunted. 

“Look,” Haymitch sat on the coffee table across from them, “you’re starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years.” 

“That just puts us higher on their kill list,” Katniss snapped, crossing her arms. 

“Do it your own way,” Haymitch shrugged, “but I know these people. You go it alone, their first move is gonna be to hunt you down. Both of you.” He left the room before his words even sank in. 

————————————

Your fingers twitched while you waited for Darla to wake up. Sometimes you cursed yourself for being an early bird, but after your games you couldn’t help but get up with the sun. Some lasting self-preservation instinct had always been your theory. You had a plan for her, not that she’d like it. 

Shuffling from the hall caught your attention, and you perked up to see her walking toward the breakfast table half-awake. 

“Morning,” you said, quickly. She just grunted as she poured herself some coffee. “I want to run something by you.” 

She took a sip of coffee, placing pastries from the breakfast spread onto her plate. When she realized you weren’t still talking she looked up, and gestured for you to go on. 

“I want you and Finnick working together,” you started. 

Darla interrupted, mouth full of croissant, “Obviously, that was just a given.” 

You clenched your jaw a bit, but barreled on, “and I want the two of you working with Johanna and-“ 

“No!” She cut you off, nostrils flared. “That’s a recipe for disaster, and you know it.” 

“It’s the best plan I’ve got,” you fired back, “the Capitol knows the two of you were together. They’ll eat your dynamic right up, and keep you alive long enough for you to keep making good television.”

She looked indignant, but you doubled down, “Johanna is a strong fighter, and with Finnick distracted protecting Mags you’ll need to beef up your alliance. If Blight comes with her, the five of you can square off evenly against the careers.” 

“We’re sure Finnick won’t want to join the pack?” Darla raised a brow, and you blinked at her in surprise. 

“You really think he’d do that?” You asked, voice light. Would he? You were so certain of his character you hadn’t even considered the possibility. But the games always changed things- changed people. When she made a face at you, you shook it off, “You know he loves Mags, he wouldn’t just leave her. And the careers are too pragmatic to take on someone they see as dead weight.” 

“Good thing I’m not pragmatic, then,” Darla said wryly, taking a bite of a fruit tart. 

Pragmatic, no. Entertaining, yes. Watching Finnick care for Mags would melt hearts across the nation, and they wouldn’t be able to turn the cameras away from two bickering exes. Putting on a show was the first step to a one way ticket out of the arena. You just didn’t want to think about which one of your friends would be the one to take it.

Your strategy started as soon as the train pulled into the station. Walking onto the platform with an arm over Darla’s shoulder, and big smiles on both of your faces. If there was ever a time to appeal to the audience it was now. Normally you’d shy away from questions, but with a few cameras you were eager to assert your tribute early. 

“We’re always happy to visit the Capitol! You all make us feel so welcome here!” Darla assured a reporter. So she had taken your strategy briefing to heart.

“While we wish we could be seeing you under better circumstances,” you jumped in, “we’re certainly going to make the most of our time here. You might just get sick of seeing us!” You laughed with the reporter, touching her wrist lightly. 

From there you were off to the races, starting a campaign of phone calls in the car. Scheduling an appearance on daytime TV to talk up Darla, conversing with the connections you’d made over the years, and making appointments for drinks or coffee occupied your afternoon. 

Darla took the time to settle in to the space, flicking through magazines on the couch as you talked your throat dry. After hanging up on another Capitolite, you scratched some more notes on the meticulous schedule you’d started. 

“Time for a break?” Darla asked from the other room after a minute of silence.  

“Time for a drink,” you complained, but caught a glimpse of the time. “Shit!” 

“What?” She asked as you ran to the room you’d stayed in during your annual visits. 

“I’m meeting Mrs. Montgomery for dinner!” You shouted back. 

“Who?” 

Within ten minutes you stumbled back out in a short, but stylish cocktail dress. 

“How do I look?” You asked, shoving your feet into a small pair of heels as you smeared lipgloss on your mouth. 

“Stellar,” Darla assured you, not bothering to look up from her magazine. 

You were busy clipping your hair up, assessing your appearance in the microwave’s reflection. “Really?” You fretted, finally turning toward her. 

“Absolutely!” She said enthusiastically, still not looking up. 

Your shoulders dropped, “Fuck off!” Grabbing your purse, you headed for the door. 

“Love you too! Thanks for all you do for-“ 

The slamming door cut her off, and she snickered. 

Mrs. Montgomery was over the moon that’d you’d asked her out to dinner, and recommended her favorite spot in the city. Luckily it was only a few blocks away, and with some extra incentive your driver floored it. You walked into her embrace right on time, and successfully reminded her of how much she adored you for an hour.  

Long ago you had learned just how much Capitolites liked to talk about themselves, and you used it to your advantage more often than not. Questions like, “How are your students? I so regret I haven’t been able to visit recently!” Were unbelievably well received, and further endeared you to the very wealthy woman who sat across the table. 

Finally, she came to address the elephant in the room, “I’m sure it’s hard for you to be here under these circumstances.” 

You nodded, “It is. This is my home away from home, but I can’t help but worry for Darla.” She nodded sympathetically, you had her hooked, but it was time to reel her in, “She’s so so capable, and I know she’ll go far, but I need her to come home.” 

Mrs. Montgomery reached across the table for your hand, “We’ll be happy to sponsor Darla.” She spoke on behalf of herself and her ultra-rich husband, who you’d have the displeasure of meeting as a client. 

“It would mean so much to me to have yours and Mr. Montgomery’s support. Please tell him I asked after him, by the way,” you squeezed her hand gently. You might come to regret it later, but what was the point of being forced to have a roster if you couldn’t put them to good use. The man was richer than God, and had requested your company on multiple occasions. An appeal to his wife and to him, though indirectly, would go far. You could face any consequences later. 

You paid for dinner yourself, though Mrs. Montgomery did protest, earning even more points towards your cause. A warm goodbye hug marked your departure, and soon enough you were B-Lining to the hotel bar in the lobby of the training center. 

—————

“If it isn’t my favorite District Twelve victor,” an airy voice pulled Haymitch’s attention from the glass of bourbon he’d been swirling. Pleasantly surprised to see you, he turned the futuristic stool next to him in your direction. 

“Well, have a seat, your highness,” he invited, and you settled in at the bar. “What are you drinking?” 

“Surprise me,” you set your purse on the counter. He slid you his untouched glass of bourbon. “Lazy,” you complained, before taking a sip. 

“You’re just the gal I’ve been wanting to see,” a small smile spread across his thin lips and raised alarm bells in your mind. 

“Why’s that?” You asked cautiously. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he stood from his chair, but you shook your head. 

“Let’s not,” you weren’t aiming to be associated with Twelve right now. If Capitolites saw the two of you on the street and got to talking, it could be bad for business. Katniss and Peeta made for a good show, but with your finger on the pulse of the Capitol, you could tell when Snow was displeased. That wasn’t an obstacle you currently needed in your way. 

Haymitch put his hands up in surrender, “Then I’ll mix you something better.” He winded around to the other side of the bar. Stopping in front of you, he snatched the glass of bourbon back and polished it off. Where the bartender had run off to, you couldn’t say. 

“What do you want?” 

“Your ear,” he crushed some mint at the bottom of a new glass. “I just don’t want you to waste your efforts.” 

Your brow furrowed, he was crazier than you thought if he was asking you to back off, “I spend my energy carefully, thank you.” 

“Then spend it on this,” he plopped a mojito in front of you, “your girl makes it out and so does mine.” 

You raised a brow, inspecting both him and your drink, “You know that can’t happen.”  

“If you pretend we’re flirting while I lean in to tell you the plan it can,” you blinked for a second before meeting him halfway. 

“A transport is coming from District Thirteen to pick up Katniss and anyone aiding her from the arena. They want her for the rebellion,” Haymitch breathed into your ear. Pretending you hadn’t just heard literal whispers of treason involving a long-dead district was difficult, but you managed to swallow your shock. 

“When?” If true, this would change everything. Your moves would need to incorporate Katniss and Peeta, your endgame would be totally different. But first you had to determine the chances of this going wrong. 

“I don’t know yet,” Haymitch whispered. 

“Give me something here,” you pleaded, “I can’t work with nothing. How could I trust a pretty promise?” 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he warned, and you angled your head enough so he could see your glare. “You know very well I’m too chicken to take anything less than a sure bet.” 

“You’re awful at gambling, and you’re a reckless old drunk,” you snarked quietly back, this wasn’t a risk you could take lightly. 

“I’m telling you this because I need your help, and Darla’s, and Finnick’s, and Johanna’s,” he went on, but you cut him off. 

“You’re assembling a team of political defectors?” 

Haymitch’s nostrils flared, but went on before you could protest further, “We need to keep Katniss alive until Plutarch can get her and her allies out of that arena.” 

“Plutarch?” That caught you off guard, and you reeled back. Your volume clearly bothered him, though the bar was empty. Haymitch clapped a hand over your mouth. 

“Yes,” he confirmed quietly, scanning the room, “though this is all meant to be secret!” 

You smacked his hand away, “Then what is my part in your lovely little treason plot?” 

“You need to recruit the others,” Haymitch nodded. 

“Excuse me?!” 

“Well, as helpful as you’ll be pulling strings from behind the scenes, Katniss needs allies in the arena,” he said. 

“You really think they’d commit treason because I asked nicely?” You were skeptical. 

“Yes,” he nodded, and you gaped. 

Shaking it off, you kept pushing, “What makes you think they’ll work with her? What makes you think she’ll work with them?” 

“She doesn’t know about this,” he said sharply, “and she can’t. All they have to do is not kill her, and eliminate those tributes who might.” 

“The careers, then,” you tilted your chin up. 

“Bingo.” 

You took a sip of the now slightly watered mojito, “So what does she know?”

“What you did when you won,” he offered, “shoot to kill, play to win.” 

“Will she take any allies?” You asked, taking a deep breath, “You know that’d make things easier.” 

“I’m working on it,” he shook his head. 

“Yeah, that’s a no,” you huffed a laugh, astounded by the turn of events. Never in a million years would you have seen this coming. You knew Katniss had stirred something up, but had not foreseen a full fledged rebellion on the immediate horizon. 

“She needs time,” Haymitch insisted, “Peeta will help her see the logic behind strong allies.” 

“And how much does he know?” You set your glass down with a clink. Haymitch just shook his head. Sighing, you barreled on, “I don’t like this, you know?” 

“I know,” he nodded, eyes clear and serious. You weren’t sure you’d seen him quite like this before. “But you’ll do it. You don’t want to have to choose between Finnick and Darla.” 

Tightening your grasp around the glass, you ran your tongue across your teeth. Fuck if he didn’t have you pinned. If there was even a slight chance you could save them both, you’d take it. Just when Haymitch had realized how deep your affection for Finnick ran, you had no clue. Suddenly, you hoped you weren’t a chatty drunk. 

“Your lives will all be better for it,” Haymitch said, “we’ll all be free.” You met his gaze head on, and were surprised to find hope lying in them. 

“I’ll talk to D tonight,” you nodded once, “and I’ll get to Fin and Jo.” Haymitch’s shoulders sagged with something like relief. When you clocked Peeta walking in from the other side of the room, you knew it was time to wrap things up. You leaned in close, again. 

“But don’t think I’m doing all your dirty work, Old Man,” you said lowly, with a coy grin, “I’m sending them your way!” You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a lip stick print. Quickly grabbing your purse, you sprung off your stool. 

With some manufactured pep in your step, you walked towards the blond boy. “Don’t let him fix you a drink, Peeta,” you said, conversationally, “for a drunk, he’s piss poor at it!” The last part was directed at your old pal, who’d now placed the lot of you in a precarious spot. 

“I missed you too, Sugar!” He yelled back, wide grin on his face as you sauntered toward the elevator. 

Peeta looked at him, amused, but skeptical, “What’d she want?” 

“A piece of this!” Haymitch gestured dramatically toward himself, and picked up the glass you’d left behind. Polishing it off, he choked a little at the taste. You’d been right, of course, he was a little rusty at bartending. 

——————————

You tugged at the shoulder of Darla’s tribute outfit. When you’d suggested leather to the stylist, this wasn’t what you’d meant. Skin tight, black patent leather reflected sunlight into your eyes. You let your hand come to your brow as you shook your head. 

“What?”

You raised a brow at the stylist, one of Darla’s.  

“What’s wrong with it?” 

“You don’t think it leans a little… kinky?” You shrugged, frustrated. 

“Well, you said leather,” the stylist defended themself. 

“And you took that as BDSM?” 

Darla threw her hands up in the air at your comment, tired of being examined, and wandered off. 

You sent the stylist away before they could argue any further. This parade was already a mess. Your plans to put Darla on horseback, to harken back to her first parade, were ruined by Darby’s apparent inability to ride a horse. There was no way you could put her on horseback if those poor creatures were pulling a cart as well. You pet one of the horses that would be pulling the Ten tributes, and the action calmed you a bit. Only, your peace was disturbed when you saw Finnick putting the moves on Katniss. 

Of the ways to piss off the standoffish girl you’d been charged with helping protect, he had to pick this one. It took about ten seconds for you to march over and fix it. 

“I’m sorry you had to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you,” you overheard. His voice oozed with sarcasm and you rolled your eyes. 

“Is this strange man bothering you, Katniss?” You didn’t wait for a response before dragging him off by his ear. 

“Hey, now,” he complained, but kept at your side. “Peeta,” Finnick tried for a dignified nod as you passed him, but came up short. 

“Finnick,” he nodded back, gaze turning to you. 

“Bye, Peeta!” You waved with your free hand. 

“See ‘ya, Sugar,” he waved back, kindly. 

Finnick planted his feet, freeing himself in an instant, “Sugar?!” He stood to his full height and shot the Twelve tribute a sour look. You rolled your eyes and started dragging him by the wrist instead. While you were going to correct Peeta, you no longer saw a point. 

“Sugar?” Katniss questioned too, a skeptical look on her face. 

“Is that not her name?” Peeta was confused. “That’s what Haymitch called- oh,” he seemed to have answered his own question, and Katniss let out a small laugh. 

“What was that?” You asked Finnick, when you’d finally pulled him to a secluded area. 

“What? I was just being nice,” he defended himself, about to pop a sugar cube in his mouth. You plucked it from his hand and tossed it over you shoulder. Finnick blinked. 

“So I was trying to sus her out,” he shrugged, “big deal. If the Capitol finds out their romance is a lie, their support goes up in flames… like her little dresses.” 

You rolled your eyes. If you were still playing to win, you would’ve liked his angle, but as it was, you had to steer the ship back on course. ���Play nice with her, would you? I’m working on something.” 

“You’re working on something that includes the girl on fire?” 

You grabbed his wrist, “Keep it quiet and come find me later. Find Haymitch too!” Sensing the parade was about to start, you turned to go. 

“Some greeting,” he complained, moodily. You stopped in your tracks, and turned again to face him. 

“Did I forget to say hi to you and your abs and your skirt?” You asked facetiously.

“You did” he nodded, “we were offended.” Rolling your eyes amusedly, you stepped up close to him. 

“Hello Finnick,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Hi Finnick’s abs,” your gaze moved down as you went, “hi Finnick’s skirt.” You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you looked back up at him. “Happy?” You asked. 

“Very,” he nodded, soundly. 

“Good,” you nodded back. 

 “I missed that smile.” He said lowly, leaning in a bit. You were really fighting against your grin, now.

“It missed you too,” you said, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Really?” His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. 

“Don’t you have a populous to charm?” You tilted your head.

“I’ve got a you to charm, first,” he blinked, innocently. When he reached out to tug on a strand of your hair, you’d had enough. 

You lightly swatted his hands away and skittered back, “Go! … Do your parade prep,” you sputtered. 

Finnick tried to conceal his laughter at your reaction. He just loved to see you flustered. “If you insist,” he bowed his head and began to trot off. But he couldn’t resist throwing a melodic goodbye over his shoulder and taking one last glance to see you hurry off. 

————————————

Finnick wouldn’t see you again until later, though he did try. He eventually found you at a party that night, a young Capitol socialite you were both familiar with was throwing a celebration in honor of the games. 

When he saw Darla tearing up the dance floor, he had no doubt that you were behind the appearance, and started scanning the rooms in the penthouse. Finally, he found you hidden away in a quiet spot, typing away on a tablet. 

Hard at work securing sponsors, no doubt. If he was lucky, he’d be reaping the rewards of Darla’s 101 sponsor gifts. Maybe you’d even deign to send him a little something. He called your name to pull you from your work. 

You looked up from your tablet, curiously. His hand tensed. When did you start wearing glasses? How did they make you look even more- 

“Finnick?” You arched a brow. 

“Yup?” He said, shoving both hands in his pockets. 

You blinked at him from your spot on a couch, “Spaced out there for a second?” 

“Yup,” he nodded. You rose to meet him when you noticed he wasn’t moving to sit beside you. He watched the slinky black dress graze your thighs as you walked. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yup,” he said, a little breathy. 

“Okay,” you said, skeptically, “So in terms of-“ 

“Sorry,” he interrupted, swallowing, “when did you start wearing glasses?” 

“What?” You asked, not quite following his train of thought. 

He inched closer and adjusted the frames on your nose as you blinked up at him, “When did this become a thing?” 

“I-“ you floundered. Was he blushing? 

“Okay, lovebirds,” Johanna breezed into the room. You jolted and Finnick snatched his hands away from your face in surprise. “Wrap it up, I want to hear this brilliant plan of yours.” 

She directed the last part towards you. You had found her earlier and told her essentially the same thing you’d said to Finnick. Johanna was surly, sure, but had a soft spot for you. She’d won the year after Darla, and you eventually took her under your wing as well. Not in time to warn her to take Snow’s threats seriously, but soon enough to comfort her before she could spiral too badly. 

You tried to shake off the confusing last few moments, “Alright, well, marketing it as my plan was maybe a little disingenuous.” They both seemed confused at your words. “But if it’s the plan I think it is it’s a plan I can get behind,” you rushed out

“Are we throwing a surprise party? What the hell are you talking about?” Johanna asked. 

“Look, I,” you did a quick glance around the room, and motioned for them to follow you. They both did, but it only further soured Johanna’s mood. When you found a private enough corner, you told them what Haymitch had told you. 

“So what? We have to protect pretty little princess for a free ticket out of here?” Johanna spat.

“Basically,” you nodded. Looking over at Finnick, you tried to gauge his reaction. He hadn’t said anything, and still seemed deep in thought.

You knew neither of your friends were fond of the Capitol. They had both lost more than they’d care to admit to these people, but you couldn’t begrudge them for trying to think this through. You’d spent a few hours doing the same before you brought it to Darla last night, and she had to sleep on it. 

“Look,” you tried again, “the reality is, she probably won’t ally with you. I still think the smartest thing to do would be to bring both your district partners and Darla into an alliance of five. If you can manage to knock out some threats to her, you can bide your time until the free plane ride.” 

They both seemed to relax a bit at that, but there was still some hesitance. “You really think throwing Darla and I together is a smart move?” Johanna asked smartly. 

“I don’t take this lightly,” you said with an air of scolding, “I’m trying to keep you safe. Right now, the only way I know how is asking you to watch each others backs in the arena while I watch yours from here. Can you trust me to do that?” 

“Yes,” Finnick chimed in seriously, speaking for the first time in minutes. 

Johanna was silent for only a few seconds longer, “Yes. But don’t expect me to be nice to her.” 

You weren’t quite sure if she was talking about Katniss or Darla, but either way it didn’t surprise you. You only shrugged at her before she walked away. 

“So,” you turned casually back to Finnick, “where were we?” You gave him a quick once over, and he seemed to tense up. 

“I think I might turn in,” he nodded quickly, brow furrowed. When you titled your head and shot him a confused glance he barreled on, laughing awkwardly, “Big day tomorrow, super tired, goodnight!” He took smell steps backward with every word before practically bolting. 

He breezed past Darla, face a little flushed. She smirked a little at his quick pace, and shook her head as she approached you. “What was that about?” She laughed. 

“Beats me,” you shook your head, confused and a more than a little disappointed at his departure. After all, you hadn’t seen him in a few months. Most of your phone calls had circled back to the quell, and you would’ve liked some time together. At least the escape plan had made you more optimistic about your chances of seeing him again. 

————————————

“Answer me this,” Darla’s voice startled him the next day at training. “Why’d you leave the party in a rush?” 

“Sorry?” Finnick remembered it well, but in the light of day was better able to keep his cool. Damned glasses. 

Darla rolled her eyes, “Why don’t you tell me after I kick your ass?” She gestured toward the mats set up in an alcove and started walking that way. He followed her lead and took on a fighting stance. 

She started to throw out guesses as he dodged her jabs. “Indigestion?” He blocked a punch. “Had to vomit?” Blocked a kick. “Left the oven on?” Sidestepped a hit. Her barrage continued until he swept her legs out from under her. 

Darla landed on the mat without complaint, more concerned with him than with training. “Then what sent you running from my lovely mentor?” 

Finnick offered her a hand up, but she swept his legs out too. Lying in opposite directions on the floor, he made his first verbal defense. “What, you don’t get sick of those parties?” 

She propped herself up on her elbows and sent him a glare. It was intimidating too, but Darla had learned from the best. “Cut the crap, I know there’s a reason. No way she could fathom being rude to you, so that’s out.” Finnick rolled his eyes as sat up. “And she’s got no game so no way she made you blush.” 

“Come on,” he said, defensively, pushing to his feet, “don’t insult her.” 

Darla perked up at this, and accepted the hand he had once again offered, “Wait, it was really her that made you blush? What on Earth did she say?”

“Drop it, D,” he warned, stalking off. 

“I am so getting to the bottom of this!” She chirped, smiling at his departing figure. 

Darla gave him some space for a while, flitting around the various stations. The practical skills called out to her, no use practicing with weapons when she was already as good as she’d get.

When she saw Finnick bothering Katniss she made her way over to intervene. He’d tied a noose around his neck, the cheeky bastard. Just when he held it out for Katniss to take, Darla snatched it and pulled him away. 

She heard him wheeze and let up on her grasp. “Fuck,” Finnick choked out as loosened the rope from around his neck. “Darla!” He scolded her once he was properly free. 

“Don’t antagonize the girl,” she said, stopping once they were out of ear shot, “and don’t act like you’re not spoken for.” 

He didn’t bother replying to the first part, “I’m not spoken for.” Darla shot him a glare, saying you’re really going to pretend I’m wrong? with just her eyes. When he glared back she only shrugged.

“You could be,” she sassed, and he took a sharp breath. 

“I don’t think now is the time to-“ 

“If not now then when?!” Darla whisper-yelled, “Newsflash buddy, you still might die. So do you want to die sad and alone… or spoken for?” 

“Do I really come off as sad and alone?” Finnick blinked. 

“Only to those who know you,” she shook her head. 

“Gee thanks, Darla,” he said flatly. 

“It’s my pleasure,” she gave him a friendly yet exaggerated shoulder bump. “Come on, let’s catch the show.” Finnick followed her off to join the crowd forming around Katniss’s simulation session. 

Darla could see the faces of the other tributes drop as Katniss put down figure after figure. They were nearly all modeled after the rest of them, and featured their signature weapons at the very least. She clenched her jaw when Katniss shot the female figure holding a whip straight through the face. No mistaking who that was meant to be. She saw Finnick twitch when Katniss shot the figure with a trident through the chest. By the end, it was clear that the girl was absolutely on the level of every person there. If luck was on her side, and she wanted to, she could likely kill each one of them. 

Wiress started clapping, and it killed some of the tension in the air. But the quell was getting more interesting by the minute. 

——————-

The four of you sat in silence in a both in the empty lounge within the training center. You traced the rim of your drink, hoping Haymitch would arrive soon since he asked you all to meet him there. The casual conversation had died out a bit ago, having run out of outfits to make fun of to keep the conversation light. It was hard not to think about your immediate circumstances. 

You shivered a little, still unused to the central air the Capitol pumped through all their buildings. Finnick caught your eye and nodded his head in the other direction, inviting you to scoot closer to him. You would’ve shaken your head if you hadn’t put on a tank top earlier, but you were chilly enough to press up against his side in a bid to steal body heat. 

Finnick raised a hand to wave to Haymitch when he saw the older man scanning the place. He settled the arm over your shoulder when he was done. Behind your head, he caught Darla narrow her gaze at him and sent her a look of warning. 

“What’s the update?” He asked Haymitch as the man slotted into the space at the edge of the curved booth. 

“Well, Katniss is not keen on allies,” he said, instantly off to a bad start, “though she is interested in the District Three Tributes.” 

“Excuse me?” Johanna asked. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Wiress and Beete.” 

“You mean she wants Nuts and Volts for allies?” Darla asked, and heard Johanna try to muffle a snicker. She tried not to smirk at the sound. So much for ‘not understanding her’ or whatever Jo had said during their breakup. 

“Look, don’t shoot the messenger,” he defended himself. 

“Maybe we should if the message is dumb,” Johanna snarked, crossing her arms. 

“She said she liked them,” Haymitch repeated, and the whole table winced. Maybe as people, Darla thought, though even that might be a stretch, but as allies? In terms of physical game it’d be like tying a brick around your ankle. Hadn’t the girl seen anyone else at work? Johanna’s axe skills? The second time she and Finnick had sparred? 

“Anyone else?” You tried, hoping for a better result. Haymitch thought for a second before snapping his fingers. 

“Yeah, Mags!” Darla groaned, make that two bricks. Finnick used the arm he’d draped across your shoulders to flick Darla in the ear. 

“Mags and I are a package deal,” Finnick asserted. Not a chance in hell he’d trust someone else to protect Mags. 

“Then my bet would be no deal from the girl on fire,” Haymitch shrugged. 

“Ok, so we’re keeping Katniss alive, but Three too?” Darla asked. 

“Haven’t we established-?” 

“We’ve got it,” you reassured him, and Finnick and Johanna nodded.

“Good,” Haymitch saidd. “We’ll,” he nodded in your direction, “keep in touch through sponsor gifts. But it’ll have to be subtle, so keep your thinking caps on.” 

“Is that it?” Johanna asked, bored. 

“No actually,” he went on, “when the time comes you’ll have to cut out your trackers and one of you will have to get Katniss’s.” 

“Shit,” Darla said. 

“Squeamish?” Johanna taunted her from the other side of the table. Haymitch interrupted before a fight could break out. 

“Before then,” he said, firmly, “I’d recommend making a big show of the interviews. Last chance to drum up public outrage at this, maybe get it cancelled.” Johanna scoffed at that, but Haymitch kept on, “At the very least it’ll be good for sponsors.” 

“He’s right about that,” you nodded, already thinking up possible interview angles for Darla. 

Haymitch grinned, “I’ll see you all there.” He pushed away from the table, heading back to his own tributes, no doubt. 

Johanna walked away next, and Darla popped up to follow her. 

“Think they’ll kill each other before the games start?” Finnick asked, angling his head to look at you. 

You let out a chuckle, still tucked under his arm. “Let’s hope not. I’m counting on those repressed feelings to bring in sponsorships,” you replied, watching the two walk off. He grinned, shaking with a bit of laughter. When you looked up to catch his gaze, you realized how close you were. 

“They sure are powerful,” Finnick said, holding your gaze. 

You blinked at him, “Sorry?” 

“Repressed feelings,” he clarified, doing his best to look innocent. You elbowed him and scooted away from his grasp and out of the booth. You’d been dancing around your feelings for him for so long you didn’t know how to do anything else. 

“Goodnight, Finnick!” You called over your shoulder as you marched away. He sighed as he watched you go, a small smile working on his face. Maybe Darla was onto something.  

------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed <3333 next part coming soon! That one will cover the interviews and the start of the games at least

taglist: @emerald-09 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @daixylie @fandomhopped

@axelinchen

@whens-naptime

@avoxrising

@erindiggory

@commanderfreethatdust

@blackdxggr

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@iheartspderman

@slytherinfolk25

@cassiecasluciluce

@jazzyyyyslife

#finnick odair x reader #hunger games fanfiction #finnick x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games

[the-tech-turn]

My goodbyes to the members of Bad Batch

(I was inspired by someone else who also did this, but I can't find them. If anyone know who the op is, please tell me so I can credit them)

(Not spell checked, btw)

TECH

Tech -my beloved-.you have helped me gain confidence when it comes to my intelligence. Last year I was very insecure about my intelligence since I was the “advanced student”. Because of that title I was afraid to ask questions, afraid of not meeting that title. My self esteem relied on my grades and even though I would have an A I was disappointed it wasn't 100 percent. But because of you I learned that I don't have to prove myself to anyone and although I may struggle with it from time to time it's a lot better than last year. You also have been a big source of comfort for me. I would love to listen to you ramble endlessly. Your voice is a voice that I have learned to love and adore. In fact I cried when I realized I would hear your voice this season. I also see you as a person who would listen to me ramble and have a genuine conversation with. Something that I rarely have. You are a strong, intelligent, determined, and loving person. That is why you have a special place in my heart. Thank you Tech for all the things you have helped me with.

ECHO

I was pretty young when I watched The Clone wars. At that time I wasn't invested with starwars the way I am now. So I never really paid attention to what I was watching. I remember part of it like watching the attack on Kamino. In all honesty I don't remember watching you at all. But subconsciously I may remember since you are one of my favorite clones. Heck even characters. I really like how competent and funny you. To me it shows that even after all that you have been through you can still be an amazing person. I think that's an important message to send. I also like how you want to keep fighting for your brothers. It shows how much you care for them, even the ones you haven't met. I love how you are willing to take dangerous risks for people to love. It shows so much about you. And finally I love how you were able to find healthy coping mechanisms and make the most of your situation. You aren't the same person as before the trauma but you aren't left worse off. Echo you are the perfect example of “you aren't what happens to you it's what you do with what happens' ' and I want to be like you.

WRECKER

Wrecker, you and I are a lot alike. We are both affectionate, loud when we're excited, and caring. I adore how you openly show Lula! You aren't ashamed of her and I think that's incredible. To be proud of who you are and being able to feel unashamed by others trying to put you down is an amazing life skill to have. I think it is amazing how you were always willing to take Crosshair back. I can tell how much you love him. It broke my heart to hear you scream after Tech as he fell. You love all of your brothers and to see one of them die and being unable to help them is something I never want to face. But you are somehow able to still keep your positivity. You seem like the person your brothers go to for reassurance due to your loving and affectionate nature. I hope that whatever happens tomorrow in the finale won't take that away from you.

HUNTER

You are an amazing father/brother to Omega and your brothers. You want what is best for them and try to help them. You are a caring person. It is just how you are. This allows you to empathize with people more easily. It is also your caring nature that drew me to you. You are how I joined Fandom in the first place, and because of that, I made friends with people who want to have a genuine conversation with me(@techwrecker @thefrogdalorian )

You've also allowed me to find people who share my interests. For that I thank you. I admire your determination. You know what you want and no one is going to stop you from getting it. I understand how pressuring it can be when people look up to you and seek you for advice but you manage to pull it off and that is why you are the leader of the batch.

CROSSHAIR

Your journey has been a hard one. You had to see your brothers leave you multiple times. You had to watch Mayday, a reg who you quickly grew to care for and love, die because of the ignorance of the Empire. The same Empire you sacrificed your whole life for. You gave up your relationship with your family, your happiness and individuality. All for the Empire to take 2 of your brothers, and take away what made you different , acceptable to take away the reason you were born and to replace it with trauma.

What you had to live through was cruel and all I can do is hope that you'll be alive to make the pain worth it.

But just because you went through all of this doesn't mean you don't have amazing qualities that I love and admire. Like me you value loyalty. It is why you left the Empire and why you are trying to recuse Omega. You are also very protective of what you care about and it is easy to see how much you care for your brothers and for Omega. I think I like you as much as I do because you remind me of my best friend. She is as stubborn,and snarky, as you but she is also as caring, loyal, thoughtful, and strong as you. It is clear for me to see why Omega never gave up on you. And I want you to know that you deserve the galaxy.

OMEGA

I have loved watching you learn and grow through all of these years. You've grown so far from the girl who didn't know what dirt was. You have faced challenges that would change many people. And in all honesty you have changed; you've changed for the better. You are still the loyal,caring and empathetic person you were before. You are a bit of everyone in the batch

You're as loyal as Crosshair, as caring as Hunter, as strong as Echo and as strategic as Tech. You have so much potential in this galaxy, and I just know wherever the force guides you, you'll never lose your spark.

(I will post my final goodbye to the series tomorrow)

#tbb #the bad batch #star wars #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb goodbyes

[moodsandtenses]

Dracula's Guest: in which a business trip gets off to a rough start

Welcome back to Dracula Daily season! If you want to kick things off a little early this year, why not treat yourself to a read-through of Dracula’s Guest? Originally a cut first chapter of the novel and later published as a separate short story, it takes place today on April 30, also known as Walpurgis Nacht. The whole thing’s available here, thanks to Project Gutenberg.

Some further discussion of this absolute wild ride of a not-quite-canon side trip below:

Dracula’s patented “when in doubt, address the problem with Wolves” strategy gets off to an early start

We join Dracula’s guest - unnamed in the story, but pretty obviously Rough Draft Jonathan Harker - in Munich, on the first leg of his business trip to Transylvania. If this had been part of the finished book, it would have really front-loaded the tension, giving Jonathan a whole Vampire Sidequest to get involved in before he even gets to Transylvania. A few fun facts worth noting here: 

The Dracula Daily community has done a lot to rehabilitate Jonathan Harker’s reputation, restoring his place as a courageous, resourceful vampire hunter and countering the pop-culture image of him as a clueless naif that’s persisted since the early film adaptations. Rough Draft Jonathan, meanwhile…well, he really is a whole lot more Like That. The whole first chunk of “Dracula’s Guest” mostly consists of him cheerfully ignoring a SPECTACULAR parade of red flags: 

Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and English, so mixed up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said, but roughly I gathered that long ago, hundreds of years, men had died there and been buried in their graves; and sounds were heard under the clay, and when the graves were opened, men and women were found rosy with life, and their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to save their lives (aye, and their souls!—and here he crossed himself) those who were left fled away to other places, where the living lived, and the dead were dead and not—not something. He was evidently afraid to speak the last words. As he proceeded with his narration, he grew more and more excited. It seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him, and he ended in a perfect paroxysm of fear—white-faced, perspiring, trembling and looking round him, as if expecting that some dreadful presence would manifest itself there in the bright sunshine on the open plain. Finally, in an agony of desperation, he cried: “Walpurgis nacht!” and pointed to the carriage for me to get in. All my English blood rose at this, and, standing back, I said: “You are afraid, Johann—you are afraid. Go home; I shall return alone; the walk will do me good.” The carriage door was open. I took from the seat my oak walking-stick—which I always carry on my holiday excursions—and closed the door, pointing back to Munich, and said, “Go home, Johann—Walpurgis-nacht doesn’t concern Englishmen.”

Abandoned village plagued by rumors of the Un-Dead? Carriage driver crossing himself repeatedly and refusing to go near the place? Even the horses are panicking and trying to get away? Sounds like a lovely place for an afternoon stroll! Sorry, I’m simply too English for foreshadowing. 

(Maybe this is just what comes of being engaged to Mina Murray, goth girl extraordinaire, who will later display the same “when in doubt, make a beeline for the creepiest local ghost stories” approach to vacation planning in Whitby.)

The inscription on the tomb of the vampire that Jonathan 1.0 encounters - who might or might not be one of the Brides of Dracula - identifies her as “COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ, IN STYRIA.” Styria is, of course, the setting of Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 vampire novel Carmilla, suggesting a direct connection between the two stories that didn't make it into the final novel.

The tomb is also inscribed with a Russian translation of “The Dead Travel Fast,” the same line from the German gothic ballad Lenore that will later get quoted at Jonathan on his first encounter with Dracula himself. He just cannot get away from that quote (and the gothic heroine narrative parallels inherent therein). 

Jonathan is saved from his nearly-fatal encounter with Countess Dolingen by a very familiar wolf, before being rescued by a search party of soldiers (who are understandably pretty freaked out about the whole affair). The maître d’ of his hotel later reveals to him that he knew to send out a search party thanks to a quietly hilarious telegram from Dracula himself, who’s evidently decided to take proactive steps to protect his guest/investment/snack for later:

Bistritz. Be careful of my guest—his safety is most precious to me. Should aught happen to him, or if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure his safety. He is English and therefore adventurous. There are often dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a moment if you suspect harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune.—Dracula.

The whole story is obviously Not Canon as far as Dracula proper is concerned - and in particular, the more oblivious narrator here is a pretty far cry from the Jonathan we've all come to know and love over the past several time loops. But all the same, it's a fascinating look at what could have been, and furnishes some intriguing ingredients for Dracula-adjacent storytelling (thanks to that Carmilla connection in particular). And it is pretty funny to imagine Jonathan going through All That and then just cheerfully getting back to travel-blogging his trip for Mina like absolutely nothing happened. All like, “Well, that was terrifying! Anyway.”

#Dracula #Dracula Daily #meta #adventures in not-quite-canon

[daintyshu]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

xiv. bitchless hoon (1.5k written)

"hey, i didn't manage to ask you why you left early on wednesday," sunghoon questions you as he wipes down the counter.

you, him and jennie had just finished the lunch crowd at the cafe that friday and you were finally able to breathe. this is why you hate working opening shifts on friday; the crowds just come in all at once, not even letting you warm up just as you clock in.

"wait, how'd you know?" you question back, smiling at a customer leaving the shop, wishing them a good day and to come back. "i have my ways," he wiggles his eyebrows repeatedly at you as a devious smile grew on his lips.

you cross your arms, giving him a pointed look as you tapped your foot impatiently. that seemed to do the trick and he laughs, ruffling your hair despite it being tied up. "i'm kidding, y/nie. i dropped by for a while that night but jay said you left early,"

you give him a dismissive wave of a hand when he raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking for an explanation. "ahh, it was nothing. was feeling a little down so chaeyoung unnie let me go off early and she took me out,"

"like, on a fun day out?" he jokingly asks and you smack him on the shoulder. "i'm kidding, obviously. saw you went on a date with jay too," he proceeds to nudge your shoulders, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly while you only roll your eyes. never a dull shift with sunghoon.

"it was NOT a date," you clarified as you topped up the plastic cups while he looked for something to do to keep his hands busy. "jongseong just wanted to cheer me up, so he brought me out too,"

he frowns at this. "what's with them all trying to cheer you up? what happened? i mean, only if you're okay with telling me,"

you pause, contemplating whether this was something significant enough about you to tell him. then again, donghyuck already knew about it too so there wasn't any reason to not tell sunghoon. after all, you were closer with sunghoon than you were with the older boy. so you told him everything.

"you know what? i'm taking you out after work to cheer you up," sunghoon announces after several empty threats of how it's "on sight" if he ever sees heeseung.

"you really don't have to, hoon. all of you didn't have to, i'm really fine, i just didn't expect to see him again after so long," you told him honestly.

well, half-honestly.

it still bothered you that you and heeseung's relationship ended abruptly without your input. but you're happy with how your life is right now so it doesn't really matter anymore.

"so you don't want to go out with me after work?" sunghoon pouts, pretending to sulk. "it's jay, isn't it? that's why you don't love me anymore?" he jokes, clutching his chest as he pretends to dramatically cry.

jennie chose the wrong moment to come out of the pantry as sunghoon's gaze landed on her. "noona! save me from this heartbreak! y/n doesn't love me anymore!"

"she never did in the first place, hoon-ah. now stop fooling around and help me wipe the lightbulbs above the pantry, you're the only one who can reach it," jennie passes him a cleaning cloth and sanitising spray, opting to stay in the bar with you while she makes sunghoon do some cleaning in the back.

you giggle at his antics. never a dull shift with sunghoon.

you remember the first time you met the boy four months ago.

he had been a regular before he applied to work at odd atelier. the pretty iced vanilla latte boy. it's funny how you remember customers by their regular orders rather than the names they'd give you. you couldn't remember names to save your life.

sunghoon would get his daily iced vanilla latte in the morning to-go but gradually he started dining in more often. after a month, he decided to apply to work there and got accepted.

you were tasked to teach him all he had to know as a part-timer when he first joined the team. he seemed cold and standoffish at first but really, he was just a shy guy.

when you got closer to him, he started showing you his chaotic side which you grew to love. you didn't think such a cold-looking guy would be as goofy as he was. it's funny how every guy you befriend turns out to be some kind of chaotic but you love it. you needed that kind of energy in your mundane life.

you didn't know when it began, but as sunghoon grew more comfortable around you, he started getting more flirty.

you can't tell if it's really a joke or not because the way donghyuck does it really does feel like it is but with sunghoon, it doesn't feel so.

if he were being real, you honestly wouldn't mind it at all. he was a good mix of goofy and serious. he knew when to be playful and when to be understanding of a situation. he's pretty good company, too.

"yah! earth to y/n! why are you zoning out?" you feel a smack on the back of your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your daydreaming. "ah, unnie!" you whined, rubbing the spot jennie hit.

"you were zoned out," she states, shrugging her shoulders. "okay but did you have to hit me?" you counter, still rubbing the stinging spot on your shoulder as you pout at the older woman.

she simply laughs and ruffles your hair playfully. everyone who works here have developed this habit towards you it seems. you didn't mind it though, it's only at work anyway.

"i was telling you to bring out some pastries from the back for the pastry case but you weren't listening. what are you thinking about?" she asks curiously, wiping the glass display case while you make your way to the back to grab some cakes and pastries to top up.

you come back out with your hands full of boxes, jennie offering to grab some to lessen the load. "do you ever wonder why hoonie is single?" you ask her, glancing through the small window on the pantry door to see the mentioned boy working hard cleaning.

glancing over at the older woman because she wasn't replying, you were met with her teasing grin and wiggling eyebrows. "why do you ask, dear y/nie?" you gave her an unamused stare back, crossing your arms. you sigh, knowing you won't be able to close the conversation if she doesn't get the answer she wants.

"just," you look over to the pantry door again, this time making eye contact with the boy who winks at you, laughing when you roll your eyes at him.

"he's very good looking, right? and he's fun to be around, he's very caring and always knows how to cheer people up. plus, have you seen the amount of girls that have come up to him here and asked for his socials? he could've accepted anyone, literally anyone but he, own his own accord, chose to be bitchless. all of the girls i've seen him reject are gorgeous gorgeous girls too,"

jennie simply laughs at your little rant, closing the pastry case after she was done. "aren't you the same? like, you're literally the reason our cafe went viral after someone posted a video of you on one of the acoustic nights," the older mentions matter-of-factly. "how many people have visited just to see you since then? how many guys have asked for your number?"

"but that's different! i don't want any of them," you huff, crossing your arms as you pout at the older. jennie snickers at your response, pinching your cheeks as she coos at you sulking. "there's your answer then,"

"what?"

"you wondered why hoon is single despite being very desirable? same reason you are, y/nie. you don't want any of those guys lined up for you and neither does he with those girls," she explains. "he's probably waiting for the girl he wants. no offence, he doesn't look like the type of guy who would make the first move,"

"that's mean," you tell her, despite giggling at the remark. "but i wonder who it is he's waiting for..." you trail off, imagining what your friend would be like if he had a girlfriend.

would he stop those flirty jokes with you? would he still be willing to cheer you up on days when your energy felt off to him? would you have to cut off your friendship out of respect for his relationship? you wonder.

jennie watches in amusement at your serious thinking face. she finds it so precious how oblivious you could be. she wonders why you're thinking of all this right now.

as sunghoon comes out of the pantry to join you two back in front, she watches endearingly at the way you two interact. she doesn't know how everything will play out but one thing she knows is; she's rooting for sunghoon.

prev | m.list | next

synopsis. in which you work at odd atelier cafe and can only make hearts in your lattes, causing a certain boy to misunderstand your intentions..... then he brings his friends and chaos ensues.

a/n: i can't believe it's been 2 weeks since the last update...i'm slacking fr sorry yall i'm only human 😔 neways this might be a flop update but i'm trynna intro each character and their relation to y/n before any drama!! so bear with me 🫶

taglist (open): @semisemirin1i82 @txtmetonight @ilyjxdz @miniature-tragedy @n1k1mura @t00miee @manooffline @aerivrs @saranghaohoshi @woninluv @moony-mari @nctsshoes2 @sunghoonnsupremacy @mnxnii @lisaswifey @enhy4me2 @en-chantedtomeetyou @enhypenlovre (strikethrough means unable to tag!)

#enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enha smau #enha x reader #enha x reader smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen texts #enhypen x reader smau #enhypen #enha

[penguin--rat]

THE TERMINATION OF RT465-002 (dr ostrov belongs to @mayyak, ms schuhart belongs to @tarot-the-silly-one)

5.4. 19:30

This is my first time alone since the experiment started yesterday. I will keep this short.

Nobody seems ‘too disturbed’ yet. Only Dr. Ostrov left, but that was to be expected. Ms Schuhart is trying to stay professional. Unsure how long that will last. Neither of their participations are necessary, but if everyone who is to participate in this experiment quits, what then? Will I have to monitor it on my own? I’d handle it, but I would rather my colleagues grow a spine than for it to come to that.

Half of the subject’s heart + brain have been removed.

6.4. 23:10 Busy day. No time to write an entry. Dr. Ostrov still isn’t here. Ms Schuhart is still working with me. Considering requesting somebody to replace Dr. Ostrov if he doesn’t come in tomorrow.

7.4. 13:50

I have time to write my thoughts now. Dr. Ostrov did not come in yesterday, and I’m beginning to doubt he will come in today. Despite what I wrote yesterday, I don’t want to take an opportunity like this away from him. If he doesn’t come in today, a phone call would be appropriate – if not out of personal interest, then out of professional interest. Maybe a text message would be better than a phone call.

Ms Schuhart is currently working on a separate project. I believe she will return. Despite our differing views, I’d dislike for her to resign from this project. Should I thank her? No, that would hint to– Maybe  “I know this is not easy for you. I appreciate your cooperation.” Would that be appropriate?

8.4. 10:15

My schedule is tight today. About ¾ of the heart was removed, as well as another half of the brain. I sent Dr. Ostrov a message, and found out he will not be participating in this any further. I’ll request somebody to replace him. Ms Schuhart is still working.

9.4. 17:50

I’ll take a break at the end of this week (12.4.). Not too long. Or – not a week. 8 days. The 7 days mark is important, and there might be development to observe, decisions to be made. Instead, I will – Tomorrow will be–

A break would help my productivity, but leaving for too long is unacceptable. What qualifies as ‘too long’? From my experience it varies. It’s natural for my colleagues to get caught up in work, but would it be weird to get caught up with this? Would they think so… Mm. I’ll ask Viktor about this.

10. 4. 18:30 Found a replacement for Dr. Ostrov. Ms Schuhart is missing today. I was not aware she held a fondness for RT465, and was under the assumption she disliked the subject, but I am not surprised. Sentimental ones like her always give out.

Perhaps somebody else from another department would be a better fit for this experiment? Somebody that didn’t know the subject – but would I be forced to quit this experiment then, as its primary handler? I don’t want my “worry over Dr. Ostrov and Ms Schuhart” to be mistaken as grief. If the latter desires, she can resign from this experiment herself, no? But as the one leading this experiment, it is my duty to do something about this.

I will stop writing down the time unless it is important, too (waste of time).

11.4. 

I suspect Petro Volkov would have been capable of participating/monitoring this experiment. Though he was a difficult man, he wasn’t bothered by ‘morals and ethics’. It pains me to flatter him, and it only pains me further to wish he were here.

Removed ¾ of the heart and ⅓ of the brain. + Ms Schuhart is back.

12.4. The subject’s ‘heart’ (a red clump)  is thrashing, not really beating, but there is still a pulse. RT465 could have been our greatest work, had it not been– as it was. Had it been better. It’s a shame, even I can see that. Ms Schuhart + the other one are working as instructed.

13.4.

An intern joined us today, but I sent it away before he could contaminate the project (vomit). Terrible. I worry that I underestimated the ‘cruelty’ of this experiment, and am ‘under-reacting’... Though I heard that that’s a natural grief response, too, I don’t want to be mistakenly accused of ‘grieving’ the subject–

I have not yet taken my break!! But I was right not to leave my coworkers (the intern) today, had he thrown up in the subject’s chest. But, when should I go? 3 weeks would be most practical. Any errors should become clear before then. Around the 25th? But that’s near the end of the month– the 20th? But that’s too soon…

14.4.

My colleagues are working as instructed. Dr. Ostrov hasn’t returned to work at all since he left. Visiting him would be bad for my productivity. I’ll send him another message. That’s the right thing to do, I believe.

The experiment has been going on for 10 days. I’m happy :) Removed ⅓ of both heart + brain. Sometimes I think I see it twitching/seizing? Administer more anesthetic/Possibility the subject isn’t getting enough nutrition to heal properly.

15. 4. Busy day. Working on other experiments + this. Colleagues working as instructed.

16. 4. Busy day. Colleagues are working as instructed. Checked schedule. I was right, we’ll be understaffed at the end of the month. Break in may?

17. 4.

The replacement for Dr. Ostrov resigned. I’m once again thankful for Ms Schuhart’s cooperation. However I’ve been thinking about having her off the experiment. It’s clear she doesn’t approve of this. Her disapproval could have a negative effect on the experiment, ex. She could refuse to work one day. And I don’t want to ‘owe’ her.

Her resigning by herself would be– worse. Three people resigning from the same experiment… bad!!! Don’t want this cut short. I could work on the experiment with only one assistant – I will request this. Unsure how to get Ms Schuhart off the project in a normal way. Removed ⅔ of the heart and ⅓ of the brain.

18. 4.

Busy day. Ms Schuhart is working as instructed. No progress with my goal yet. Looking at HR rules and regulations. 2 weeks since this began. Considering removing another organ fully, ex. lung.

19. 4.

Working on getting Ms Schuhart off the experiment. Only 2 people working on this would help me make the most of the budget, too…

RT465’s hair is growing long again. Why didn’t I fully shave it before this started? Cut the subject’s hair. It’s already growing again. Hate that, I have to clean it all up now. Some of the stray strands are sticking to its face – it's sweating. I’ll wash it off. So much to do, ugh.

Not much to share today.

20. 4.

Effectively removed Ms Schuhart from the project. Her replacement hasn’t come in yet, so I’m alone today. I’d keep it like this but I need somebody watching over the subject when I’m sleeping, wake/call me in case of an emergency, etc. I’ll sleep here tonight.

DON’T FORGET: ⅓ of the heart, ⅔ of the brain, and an organ of my choice

21. 4.

Busy day. The replacement is here, I have to teach him the ropes. He’s fine. Rude, but does his job as instructed. I shouldn’t have to remove him from the project. Unless he throws up. Blegh.

RT465 is having trouble. I’ll sleep here again tonight.

22. 4.

The replacement is doing well. The subject is struggling more since its left lung was removed. I’m trying to believe in its ability to pull through, but it’s let me down so many times before...

Though it wasn’t a complete failure, it didn’t meet its full potential, either. It was trying, its last week alive, to prove itself. I’m thankful - had it not, this experiment couldn’t have taken place. There’s not much I can do to guarantee its survival. More anesthetic, maybe.

23. 4.

Forgot to put in a request for a day off. Will do so tomorrow. The heart has fully regrown, the lung and brain are still missing pieces. My assistant wants to remove half of it again, or ‘at least a quarter’, but I want to wait until – what? Until it has a better chance of survival? This is its termination. ‘Survival’ is not the goal.

Removed half of the heart.

24. 4.

I know that I’m doing the right thing. I don’t feel guilty over the termination of a faulty subject. If anything, I feel – relieved? That I was the one the subject latched onto. God forbid it was Temnova in my place. It’d have been terminated long before now had that been the case.

My assistant is acting strangely. Considering giving him a raise. Removed half of the brain. The lung is still growing. 2 more days until it's finished, at most.

25. 4.

Busy day. Removed ½ of the lung, ¼ of brain and heart.

26. 4. Dr. Ostrov still hasn’t come into work. That reminds me I forgot to request time off. Not to mention that I’ve been sleeping here since the 20th, so almost a week. Not good for my back! I should go home soon, but we’re understaffed these days… I’ll take a week off after the experiment ends. That should be fine. Shows that going days without sleep + sleeping in a chair + ‘overworking’ myself have consequences on my human body + won’t have to worry about when to take a break from now on.

27. 4.

That man won’t be getting a raise as he is a spineless coward that quit when we’re understaffed! Not just the experiment, but the job completely, leaving me alone in this. Like I’ve said many times I can handle it, but it’s unprofessional.

I’ll have to request another assistant now, but there’s no telling when they’ll come here/who they’ll be. Hate this. Hate him. Not even a month and it’s all falling apart. Even RT465 deserves a better termination than this! I shouldn’t have gotten Ms Schuhart off the project. Can’t ask her to come back now, though. 

Won’t remove anything today. I won’t be able to write down detailed entries for the next few days for obvious reasons.

28. 4.

Busy day. Removed ¾ of the heart.

29. 4. Busy day.

30. 4.

Busy day. Still can’t believe my ‘assistant’ quit. Spineless. Coward. Removed ¼ of the heart (half of the heart is intact), ½ of the brain, and ¼ of both lungs.

1.5.

Busy day. The replacement should have been here today, but she’s not. Should have time tomorrow. It’s been almost a month since this experiment began. I was supposed to have a ‘break in may’, but I’m not complaining. I’m happy to have an opportunity to study the subject on my own without outside interference. I’m only upset with that ‘assistant’ for leaving me. No regard for anybody but himself. 

2. 5. Busy day. The replacement is still not here. Not removing anything today.

22:30 The replacement was here for an hour before leaving. I reprimanded her and insinuated that if she resigns from the experiment I will do everything in my power to fire her from the institute – which isn’t within my power, but she doesn’t know that. We removed ½ of the brain, ¼ of the brain, and I will, on my own, remove the subject’s right kidney.

3. 5. Happy to report my new assistant came in on time today, and that at least one person other than me knows how to do her job. She’s not rude like the last one either. This one should get a raise. Can’t lose her – can’t scare her away, either. Cut the subject’s hair today.

4. 5. Busy day. It’s been a month since the start of the experiment. The subject isn’t struggling as much anymore. Despite it all, I’m happy with its development. This milestone, a month, is the most crucial one; I can be stricter now! It’s survived this long, why not take out both of its lungs? Both kidneys, its liver?

Thank you, RT465. Back to work now.

5. 5.

Busy day. Removed ¼ of both the heart and the brain, the right kidney, and ½ of the left kidney. My back hurts… Should sleep in a bed soon.

6. 5.

Busy day. My request to give my assistant a raise for this experiment was approved.

7. 5.

I’m glad this is the assistant that I received. She doesn’t speak wastefully, does what she’s told, and hasn’t complained about the conditions we’ve been given. I couldn’t have received a better one. After this experiment is over, I must express my gratitude. Maybe I could argue for a permanent raise for her? It’s not my department, but I can at least put in a good word for her.

Can’t forget to give her a break!! She can’t burn out. Next weekend, maybe, today is Sunday and she’s only been here a few days– god, no. She shouldn’t need a break – this is her job. She’ll get a day off when she asks for it. 

8. 5.

Busy day. So many of those these days. It’s better than no work, though. Removed ½ of heart + brain + liver.

9. 5.

Learned that my assistant has every Friday off. Do I have an ‘every (x day) off’? I’ll have to check. Nothing else has happened today. My assistant doesn’t look too disturbed? Which is good. I hope I don’t come across as … ungrateful? Belittling? Words are beyond me right now. She’ll be here for a few hours, so I’ll take a nap.

10. 5. 

Busy day. I don’t like the look of things.

11. 5.

Busy day. Removed the heart fully + ¼ of the brain.

12. 5.

Busy day.

13. 5.

Busy day. The red clump has come back. It’s not that ugly, really, if you look at it from another angle.

13. 5. Busy day. My assistant is gone today. Won’t remove anything for her sake + the heart isn’t fully regrown. Things are looking worse.

14. 5.

My fears that the experiment will be cut short aren’t unfounded anymore. The funding for this has been halved – as a penalty for so many people resigning, I guess. 

If I have to work unpaid for this to continue, so be it, but my assistant surely wouldn’t do the same. This means nothing to her, but to me– I have to find a way around this. Even if she agreed to work without pay, the expenses of the experiment, the anesthetic we use to keep the subject unconscious– we’d run out of resources eventually. 

This can’t end so soon. I was given no warning, how was I supposed to know? I never ask for anything, only this, for this experiment, and they cut it off! They’re trying to get me to resign from the experiment, I’m sure of it. Why? I’m only doing what needs to be done. I gave her a purpose! RT465 would be nothing if not for this experiment. She’d thank me if she could speak right now.

I gave this place my whole life. That couldn’t have been a mistake. I can still turn this around, I just need time. Can’t waste it writing nonsense – back to work. + Removed ¾ of the heart and brain, the liver and the right kidney.

15. 5.

Busy day. I’m gathering the results of this experiment up in a ‘neat pile’ to present to my superiors. If they see what’s come of this, they’ll let it continue. They’ll see that this isn’t for nothing.

16. 5. Busy day. There’s going to be a lot of those from now on. I’m going to sleep here full time from now on, too. I have to give this everything I’ve got. Removed the brain fully.

17. 5. Busy day.

18. 5. Busy day. Removed the liver.

18. 5. Busy day. I hope I don’t have to take my assistant’s raise away. She really does deserve it. If only she had been here with me from the start… Removed ½ of the heart. RT465 is struggling, but it’ll have to manage if it wants to be of any help.

19. 5.

Busy day. My assistant’s day off is tomorrow.

20. 5. My superiors are arguing that all that I’ve learned from this experiment could have been deduced from previous experiments; They don’t know shit. They’re not here. They haven’t seen that red clump in RT465’s chest, the cluster of fat, water, salts, and carbohydrates in its skull – they haven’t even looked at the photos I took for them! “Could have been deduced from previous experiments,” They’re not the ones getting their hands dirty. They haven’t stepped foot in this room, haven’t slept in it, haven’t done anything other than whine about the budget. They should be ashamed to call themselves employees of the institute. “Could have been deduced,” but we never would have known for certain. I’m doing us a favor.

Removed the brain and ¾ of the heart.

21. 5. Busy day. The assistant isn’t here today.

22. 5. My assistant is back, but it’s still a busy day. I’m tired. I've been sleeping only 3 hours a day at most, and only 20 minutes at one time. I’m looking forward to my week off after the experiment ends.

23. 5. Busy day. Removed the brain, ½ of the heart, the left lung, and ½ of the right lung. 24. 5. Busy day. I have to take away my assistant’s raise… I can tell she disapproves, as she’s been slacking off today. It’s fine as long as she doesn’t quit.

25. 5. Busy day.

26. 5. Busy day. My assistant’s day off is tomorrow. She was missing today, too. Didn’t even call in. Terrible work ethic. She’s just like my previous assistant, leaving me in my time of need, abandoning the institute… Can’t write more, work calls. Removed the heart.

27. 5. I’m not getting more funding. I’d have gotten it already were my superiors planning to listen to reason… but here I am, with a subject that refuses to die, with no way to kill it.

I should have known it’d end up like this. Like a fool, I was hoping for this experiment to last at least 4 months, but I took things too slow. Took too much time with things. Work comes first, pleasure second. I was stupid to mix the two…

When was the last time I enjoyed something? It’d be– Ostrov is nice, but he’ll leave eventually. He’ll realize our morals don’t align, and like the good man he is, he’ll leave me for somebody that’s better fit for him. Or I’ll take him down with me. Either way, we won’t last… I like game nights with Viktor, too, I suppose. Even if he is an insufferable winner. I enjoy these experiments too, but outside of work, what else? Is that all my life is? Two relationships that won’t last and work? 

There must be something else. I must be missing something. This can’t be all that my life is.

Removed the brain.

28. 5. My assistant isn’t here again, but at least she called in to tell me she’s resigning from the experiment. I don’t know what I expected. At least now any doubt that this experiment is over has vanished. I don’t know how I should feel. Angry? Sad? Guilty? Relief, maybe? I don’t know. I put so much into this, only for it to come crashing down. Not even two months, and yet… There’s no reason to write these entries now. I started this journal because I wanted to keep track of Dr. Ostrov’s and Ms Schuhart’s reactions, for future reference, but now that I’m the only one here, there’s no reason to hide my apathy. Not like I was doing a good job at that, anyway.

I don’t know what I’ll do now. I can squeeze out another week from this experiment, but what would be the point? RT465 is – nothing. She can’t give me anything she hasn’t already. The only thing that I could do now is–

One last attempt. If she survives this, I’ll definitely get more funding for the experiment. If she doesn’t, then she’ll be successfully terminated, and I’ll have done my job right. It’ll be over either way. The point of this whole thing was to push her limits, anyway, so it’s not like I’m acting out of order. 

If I get more funding, I’ll continue writing here. If I don’t – I’ll never look at this journal again. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll survive this. Even if it takes her a week, a month, a year to grow back together, I know she will. Whether my superiors allow her to survive is out of my hands. I’ve done nothing wrong.

Removed all of RT465’s organs.

#gabriela kozlova #nastyart #oc art #original character #fanfic #writing #original writing #pafl oc #AHHH IM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY SHARE THIS!!! i hope u guys like it :3

[strawbrygashez]

Zero Day Family HCS

Some thoughts I have about how the two would interact with each others families and whatnot..

•In the movie, it seems like Cals family is always doing something & are very family oriented! With how large that one party was and how we see Cals parents interact with Cal a lot more positively than how Andres parents interact with Andre… SO this makes me believe that when Andre does accompany Cal to those big family events, he feels slightly overwhelmed and out of place.

Since Andres extended family is more than likely all back in Germany, it feels so alien for him to see a whole family around like this. Grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, you name it.. he has no idea it feels that’s like. It’s literally always has been just Andre and his parents the majority of his life.

That being said though, I think Cals close and extended family welcome Andre with open arms. They’ll chat with him and pull him either which way at a party to go see something or someone :,)

(Speaking of, wouldn’t it be funny if one of Cals cousins had a little crush on Andre.. and they tell Cal something like, “Yeah your friend over there is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” And Cal just… becomes a total dickhead and is like “Let me introduce you to him :D he’s single!” And drags them along to meet Andre despite their protests. He himself knows that Andre will more than likely not be interested at all but Cal loves pushing Andres buttons and making him uncomfortable every now and then.)

So Cal will walk off after he introduces the two and says some bs like “hey you aren’t seeing anyone right Andre? I want you to meet my cousin.” Andre is dying on the inside because he has no idea what to say to her and it’s just so uncomfortable for them both. He definitely finds Cal after and hits him in the back of his head)

•Cals siblings are obsessed with Andre. They always run to the door when he comes over and show him things they made or new toys they got and unless Cal puts up a fight or Andre is just really not in the mood, they’ll try to pull Andre outside so they can play things like football with him.

Initially, Andre didn’t think he’d like being around Cals siblings because for all he knew, all kids were just annoying and loud but once they started going on about how they like Andre more than their own brother sometimes, he’s making sure he’s the coolest guy they know. He likes the feeling of being someone others look up to and the little ego boost that comes with it :,)

•Again with Cals siblings, I think even they can tell how totally joined at the hip Cal and Andre are.. which leads to some teasing and “Uncle Andre” being said 💀 Andre won’t even take it to heart like he would if anyone his age was saying that kinda stuff to him since their just kids and are genuinely just playing around. He’ll just playfully shove them away or put a hand over their face to make them shut up.

•Andre isn’t particularly close to Cals parents but they like him well enough. Andre doesn’t really know how to deal with parental figures that well because his own parents are kinda just yknow ‘there’ for the most part. He doesn’t particularly feel very close to his own parents besides maybe his mom a bit.

————————————————————————

•Andres mom loves Cal a lot! I feel like Andre never had any close friends growing up so she’s so happy Cal hangs out with him. Especially because he seems so nice and a good influence (💀).

I like to imagine that one day, Cal went to Andres house because he needed to vent and just get out of his own house for a bit but when he showed up, Andre wasn’t there. Like maybe he’s working later then usual or some school thing came up. Usually, Cal would just go up to Andres room anyways to wait for him but Andres mom insisted on making him something.

Cals sitting there at the dinner table dissociating and she notices somethings off so she asks if he’s okay and.. he just starts bawling. He doesn’t even mean to but yknow how just hearing someone ask if your okay can make u cry? Yeah. So she sits down with him and tries her best to calm him down and understand what’s going on.

Hes’s eventually able to calm himself down with a mix of her help and him just being embarrassed he broke down in front of her. Andre comes in soon after and is very confused why Cal looks like he just got done crying with his mom next to him. And is even more confused when his mom tells Andre to keep a eye on him and maybe take him out somewhere.

•Andres dad and Cal barely interact besides Andres dad patting his shoulder and asking about school, girls, what he’s been up to and etc. Cal can tell that Andres dad doesn’t like him that much since Cal doesn’t really act all tough and masculine but it’s nothing crazy. Just kinda a thing where they’ll occasionally chat and nod to each other but that’s about it.

•Andres mom loves to share embarrassing things about Andre so much. Like telling stories about how cute Andre was and how he’d follow her around all the time when he was younger, how’d he pick her flowers, how he still believed in Santa a bit past the appropriate age to still believe in him, and etc. she also loves showing Cal Andres baby pictures and videos too. Andre will straight up leave or put his head in his hands but Cal doesn’t give a shit. He’s SO giddy about seeing this old side of Andre. It takes everything in Andre not to hit Cal when he asks “Where’d that sweet, kind boy go?”

#zero day #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #caldre

[blade-that-was-broken]

In your soldier on au does branch ever think about signing up for the military? When he’s the age he can do it but this au got me thinking about how my older brother was in the military and how that influenced me to want to be in the military too but my family has a history with the military so idk if John Dory be in the military has influenced branch a little because they seem to be getting along.( sorry if doesn’t make sense but I just had some thoughts about it but this is a really interesting and cool au and I’m only 14 so I don’t really know how a 16 year old will think about this😅)

Oooooooohhhhh... okay, okay, okay I got this lol

This is entirely possible. Especially since John was 17 when he signed up and Branch is not that much younger now. I think he would probably consider it at some point, at the very least, although if John knew, he'd probably be like... now I know what Dickory was trying to do with his brother lol so it might be a theme lol.

I think Branch might consider it at some point; especially when John talks about the good things, the places he's been, the people he has met, the squad that became his family. And since Branch has a kind of disconnect from his brothers, he might think this is kind of a good idea. However, on the other hand, with John's new predicament and disability, Branch also gets a bit of a seat into what can - and even often does - happen when in that type of environment.

John lost his leg. And no matter how strong and capable he is or becomes, that is something he does have to struggle with because it is a huge, huge adjustment, especially at his age. So Branch could also very well be faced with what if John hadn't survived? Branch would have never have met him. What if Branch did the join the military and didn't survive?

In the end, he might consider even have a phase of daydreaming about it for a bit. But at the end of the day, he won't. He ends up gaining that family and relationships that he was longing for, mostly when he is in Hawaii with John (and by proxy, Bruce). Rosiepuff might even sell her house and end up moving them there because of it.

Branch gets friends and close relationships. Not just with John, but with other people too. Tresillo and the rest of John's squad actually get close with Branch too. He ends up having a better relationship - although a little awkward - with Bruce. He has some friendship/relationship with his nephews and possibly even Clampers and Hickory as well. Eventually Poppy will probably make an appearance as well and well, we know I ship Branch and Poppy.

Branch having that moment of wanting the military, part of it is because he was unfulfilled in his life and relationships and in the beginning, before things get better, he sees the good in John's life but he doesn't quite realize that good came out of some really painful loneliness that he didn't have the choice to find in his own family. Branch and John's loneliness are not exactly the same but very, very similar, even though their circumstances are a bit different.

Military backgrounds definitely influence a family, whether or not the family tries to. One of my high school friends, despite her small stature, was determined to get in because that was in her family. It wasn't that her parents told her she had to or even expected her to, but it was something she really wanted and she did. I don't know if she is still here or not, but I know she got in.

And don't worry, your ask made total sense. I'm sorry I went a bit above and beyond.

#ask #soldier on au

[yourdeepestfathoms]

“child soldier Clara” was NOT a direction i was expecting the game to go in on the FINAL DAY of the Changeling route

why the fuck was Block so determined to draft this twelve-year-old in the fucking army 😭

#i said no every fucking time he asked #and i bet he still dragged her with him #BRO LEAVE HER ALONE #maybe i misinterpreted the whole thing #but to me it really seemed like he was trying to get her to join the war #artemy and dan settling down togetehr: 🥰👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍👨‍👧‍👦🏳️‍🌈👬❤️ #clara in the war: 🪖🎖️🔫🤺🩸💣💥🔥☄️ #pathologic #pathologic hd #pathologic classic hd #clara the changeling #clara saburova #clara pathologic #alexander block #pathologic meme

[sttoru]

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk angst #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst