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glitterge1pen · 1 year

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Have you ever stood in an empty hallway and been put into 2005-2009?

Rukawa Kaede x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 3,490

guys I've done it again I have wrote something vague and tender

Stadium Operations Manger had not been the job you thought you would find yourself in. At least according to the results of the career aptitude test you took in high school.

Scheduling and preparing the stadium for events was your main job. Working with musicians teams to figure out how their touring stage would fit in your space. What nights were for basketball or hockey or monster jam trucks.

What charity wanted to sing at that hockey game? And there's a new food vendor right? These were questions you handed off to other people, the managers beneath you. With a walkie talkie, clipboard, and google calendar you hoped yourself invincible.

That was of course until Rukawa. His name squeezes its way out of the corner of your mouth, it tingles the tip of your nose and turns the ends of your ears hot. Your staff in aprons, yellow crowd control vests, and black security jackets moves out of your way as you pass.

There is twenty minutes until the doors open and then another hour until the game.

Your shoes clunk on the tiled floor, your legs burning from the fast pace. Where could he be this time? You were almost back at where you had started and there was no sign of him.

Pressing on the walkie you ask if anyone has seen him. They don't have to ask who. But he is still amiss and you don't know if you should be angry or impressed.

Deciding that he can wait just a couple minutes you walk over to the glass wall that overlooks the city. In the summer doors lead to a rooftop cafe, a balcony, but now in the colder months the doors are locked and you can only look.

At night the lights and reflections of the city are like rain. You often find yourself taking in this exact view, either on the first floor or higher up on the third floor where you are now.

Next to you is one of the smaller merchandise shops. The front of the shop also glass. All the local sports teams merch is stocked here and tonight the basketball teams logo is most prominent amongst the jerseys. Especially Rukawa’s jersey. That number of his, 11, seemingly mocking you. Where was he?

The shop door was propped open, you'd have to check the schedule and remind whoever closed last night to make sure to shut it. A sneaker. There behind the cashier counter on your right is a sneaker on the floor.

You leave the door to investigate. There is Rukawa on that blue shop carpet. His arms crossed over his chest and his breathing even. You kick the bottom of his shoe.

"Come on," he groans, "Get up, game time is soon,"

"You're lying,"

"I'm not lying you got to get your ass up and back downstairs,"

He doesn't say anything. You huff, knowing that the next part of this charade is trying to yank him off the floor. Rukawa is tall and mostly muscle, you tug on his arm but never get him very far. Today he is limp dead weight. You set your clipboard down to use both hands, in a misstep you tangle your shoes with his. Your hands loose grip on his forearm and you're tumbling backwards.

This is what seems to wake Rukawa up. His own hand grips onto your wrist pulling you in his direction just as he’s standing onto his feet. You bump into his chest and are momentarily in a whirlwind. Rukawa smells nice, his cologne faint but there, beneath the vague spicy citrus is the gentle sweat of sleep. His jersey isn’t pressed to flat clean lines but it is clean, it smells fresh. He’s looking at you not saying anything and you can feel his gaze but do not meet it.

“Your boss is going to kill me,”

“He’s not my boss,”

“He's your coach and that’s close enough, come on we have to get you down there,”

Rukawa follows you out of the store and into the massive stadium halls. He keeps pace with you, employees eye him but don’t ask for pictures or autographs. Around the bend is the employee only elevator and your shoulder brushes against him on the ride down to the basement floors.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,”

You say with a nonchalant tone, your eyes feasting upon your clipboard trying to find when the medic team is supposed to arrive tonight.

“I didn't mean for you to trip,”

This time he can't look at you while you look at him. You don’t know what to say, your mind trying to find some other instance where you’ve heard him apologize but can't. It's the thing that twitter accounts, sports journalists and other players say about Rukawa. That his head is too high, that he can't admit when he's over stepped but instead will say what he plans on doing next. The elevator dings open and you tell him that it's alright.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your office is tucked away in the basement. It's barely big enough for the desk, couch and shelf of binders that hold it together. Rukawa is there on the couch, his back to you as you type away on your computer. Players were required to arrive at the stadium at least forty five minutes before the games. Most came earlier than that. Rukawa's teammates were lounging in the locker room with take out, in the seats below the announcers box playing Xbox on the jumbotron and listening to music on the court.

Rukawa was napping. You wondered if he had some sort of sleep disorder. Since finding him in the shop several weeks ago Rukawa had stopped napping in various places around the stadium and taken up your offer to sleep in the office. You turn to look at him now and find that he is already looking at you.

“You're awake,”

And he nods, sitting up.

“You ready for the game,”

He scoots the couch closer to the desk.

“I’ll take that as a yes,”

“We’re weak on defensive because Miller is out. Their good scorers, and so are we but our weak point is shining,”

“You can still win,”

Rukawa is close to the desk so that he can rest his head in his arms. His breath itches your skin as your attention battles to focus on the computer screen in front of you and not him.

“And you have to move the couch back when you leave for warm ups,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The team was on a losing streak. You did not bring it up to Rukawa. He sulked in your office before games, twisting in his sleep. He had been spending even more time in the gym. The training center was only two blocks away from the stadium. He parked his car in the same lot as yours, you saw him in there sometimes before you had to clock in, the training center not open yet. Most often he was napping, but sometimes you caught him watching game highlights. You always made sure to bump your fist on his window as you passed by.

Today, in the cold night air, he was there again. The trunk of his car slamming shut as he tossed his duffle bag inside. His eyes widened when he saw you, having caught him off guard. Another thing that you had not been able to do before. You see the bags under his eyes, the red creeping around his pupils.

“Rukawa, what are you still doing here, its really late,”

He shrugs, “I could ask you the same thing,” you were carrying a box full of posters. The new ones for the holders had come in, you liked to keep the cool ones of bands you liked. Rukawa held the box for you as you unlocked the car. Your breath came out in white clouds, the air slithering around you, Rukawa put his hands in his pockets.

“Hungry?”

He asks. The restaurant of Rukawa's choosing was at first surprising. Empanadas served over a counter. Traditional ones, and ones with more flashy fillings like Vegan Caprse and Spicy Bbq Chicken. The place is small with few tables, it's on the mall strip downtown and has doors on either side. People filter in and out easily, their empanadas wrapped in wax paper, steaming hot as people head back outside. Most seem drunk, rosy, and loud as they wait for their food.

You order first and snag the window seats, gliding onto the high stools. It's Friday so even though it's late the street is still buzzing. When Rukawa slides into the seat next to you, he hands you a cellophane wrapped pastry.

“For letting me use the office,”

“Oh you didn't have to do that,”

“I did. I have to do something for you,”

He's so matter of fact about it that it makes you want to roll your eyes. He's serious and dead set on small things like this, it makes you grin. You watch the people on the street, your reflection mixing with the lights, the people behind you in the small restaurant just blurry shapes in the window. The food is good and warm, the bread flaky and filling.

“Are you okay?” He doesn't answer but instead just looks at you. If he was going to be stubborn about it you supposed you could be a little mean, “I know you don’t like losing and…” You trail off hiding a smile behind your empanada. He twists around in his stool, propping his elbows up on the counter. You don’t stop looking at him and eventually he sighs and swivels the stool to face you.

“Fine. I don’t like it. And I can't do anything about it,”

“And have you done other things?”

“Like what?”

“What you've never taken, like a spa day or something?”

“I’m not going to a spa,”

“I’m not saying go to a spa I just mean when you aren’t playing basketball what do you do?”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“When I first moved here this is where I would come,”

It's the next day and you had spent more time than you'd like to admit thinking about what to wear. Only to find that Rukawa was bringing you to a bridge looking down at the freeway. It was the massive freeway too, the one with ten lanes and the toll. The bridge had nothing but chainlink, that enclosed the concrete path, and a single iron railing keeping people from throwing rocks and themselves down at the cars. It connected a neighborhood of houses to a strip mall.

“And why would you come here? There's like nothing here,”

He shrugged, “This path connects to the river, the one down by the stadium. I used to run it every morning and sometimes I’d stop here at the bridge.”

There's stairs you have to descend, they seem clunky and odd next to the freeway. Drivers slow down as they approach and merge from the ramp onto the lanes. The city is still in view and you find your eyes wandering to the skyscrapers and glistening windows. Rukawa nudges your shoulder with your own.

“This is the part I like,”

A car gets on the exit ramp.

“What about it?”

“Look at the drivers,”

The next car comes, a blue honda, and the girl driving looks over her shoulder to see if she can merge. Almost everyone does this, the peek over the shoulder. Of course everyone does this, but it is charming to see that Rukawa has picked a spot just to watch people do this mundane task. You try to think of other things like this that everyone must do but your mind comes up blank, too busy watching the cars pass by.

There are easy things to think of, like breathing, drinking water, sleeping, that all people somehow complete. But smaller things, like having to check over your shoulder, escape you. But you know still that other people exist in the same way you do.

“I get why you come here,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“That just isn't going to work sir,”

The grody man in front of you was trying to convince you that his musicians stage set needed another rig for lights.

“There has to be some way you can do this for us, we’ll downsize if we have too,”

“You're going to downsize over some lights?”

All the pleasantries between you two had been used up. The past ten minutes had been very tense, the forty five minute meeting was entering two hour meeting territory and you were jittering with nerves. Not because you couldn't handle this man but because there was a game tonight and you still hadn't made your first round of check-ins with your team.

“Hell yeah we’ll downsize over this. This is money that you’ll be losing,”

“It's not possible, we simply don't have the room for it,”

“Then make room!”

The door to your office swings open, Rukawa is there, duffle bag slung over his shoulder and frozen as he takes in the atmosphere.

“Oh, I didn't know you had a meeting today,”

He’s about to turn away but you usher him in.

“No, no, its alright we were just finishing up,”

“No we aren't!”

Rukawa’s eyes dart between you and this man, he tosses his duffle bag onto the couch, stepping aside to let the man pass. But the man is still in the chair across from your desk, his face red and his palms up like can catch him an explanation for this interruption.

“I’m sorry but we are done. I've explained several times that we don't have room for another rig, and even if we did I couldn't let you use that space because the amount of lights you're suggesting is a fire hazard,”

“Other places have given us the space so why can't you?”

“Because we don't have it!”

You are practically yelling and the man's mouth is open in shock, his hand on his chest like he has the right to be appalled.

“You have to leave,”

Rukawa says. You don't take your eyes off the man in front of you.

“You don't have any say in this matter!”

“They told you to leave, leave,”

Finally, after a long, long beat of silence the man gets up and leaves. He slams your office door hard. Your fists balled up at your sides, you jump at the door. Opening it only to slam it shut even harder than he had. You stand in the middle of your office unsure of what to do now. Your whole body burning hot, your eyes brimming with tears, and your hands still clenched tight.

“Come on, you have to get out of this office,”

You run your fingers over the lines in your forehead, the ones that appear before you're going to cry.

“No, no, I have to check in with security and-”

“Do you think it's a good idea to do that when you're not calm and ready?” “But I have to,”

“Just ten minutes,”

You follow Rukawa to the elevator and find yourself retracing steps to the merchandise store you had last found him in. To your surprise Rukawa walks past that and to the doors that lead to the patio, and he opens them. He somehow has a key and though it's chilly out you still stand on the rooftop. It's afternoon, the sky a strong blue, clouds fluffy.

“Thanks,”

You say as Rukawa tosses you his warm up jacket.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Can’t you go talk to him,”

“Isn't that your job,”

Rukawa's coach, a balding middle aged man who wears too many rings, sighs, and shakes his head.

“Your better at it, he likes you better,”

“Which is it, am I better or does he like me better,”

“You know it's both,”

You hum and continue typing on your laptop.

“I’ll go with you if you're scared,”

“I’m not scared!”

“Then why aren't you going?”

“Beucae Rukawa is a professional athlete and I trust he knows what he's doing,”

“And I’m his coach and I’m saying he's doing too much, get him out of the gym, hes pissing everyone off,”

“Why do I have to do it? It's not my responsibility,”

“I already told you, he likes you best”

This is the conversation you had with him in your office that led to you braving the night and walking to the training center. You show your stadium badge to the secretary behind the desk and she does not let you in. So you call coach and he doesn't answer, which leads to you calling Rukawa.

“Can you come down to the front desk,”

He's breathless as he speaks, “The front desk where?”

“Here, like where you are, the training center,”

Suddenly you are scared and nervous and don't know exactly what you’ll say to Rukawa. When he gets down to the lobby he bursts through the doors, head whipping back and forth to find you.

“Did something happen?”

“What? No? Did coach not tell you I was coming?”

Rukawa's shoulders drop, and he shakes his head no.

“He wants you out of the gym,” He runs a hand through his hair, “he says you're stressing everyone out,”

Rukawa hunches over on his knees, he huffs.

“He couldn't tell me that?”

“He says he did and you didn't listen.”

He flops back onto the couch that's in the lobby. You stand there holding the strap of your work bag. You aren't sure what's supposed to happen next, are you supposed to sit down with him? Is he actually going to leave? He wraps the healthy leaf of the house plant that's next to the couch around his fingers. It shines underneath the lights, green, vibrant, of life.

“Have you ever been inside?”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Since Rukawa had given you a tour of the training center he was more prone to dropping by your office on days that he did not have games. He had also begun inviting you to practices. You had only been able to make it to two but they were interesting to watch. You didn't sit in the bleachers but rather in this hallway with windows that looked down onto the court. There were hardly any people there, and they appeared to be other employees.

You were not in your office though when Rukawa had popped in. He saw the drink on your desk and the light of the computer screen. He went wandering the basement offices in an attempt to find you. He grabbed his lunch too, he had come from a practice and was starving. He knew the building pretty well from his adventures in napping. He checked the water fountain, the break room but found you in the office supply closet. Which is where the big xerox machine was.

“Hey,”

You said to him as he entered the small room.

“You weren't in your office,”

“Well, yeah I had to make copies of these,”

Rukawa hoisted himself up on the cabinet next to the printer. He clipped the stacks of paper you were making with paper clips and set them aside for you as he munched on his food.

“Is that a whole bag of tomatoes?”

You asked, lifting up the scanner lid. Rukawa had brought a ziploc bag full of tomatoes to eat. He nodded.

“Do you want one?”

None of the tomatoes were of the same size or color, but most of them were small. He handed you one of the bite size ones, and you don't know what compelled you to do this, but you put it on the scanner with paper. You pressed the start button and bright light illuminated the room. With the lid open you could see the bar of light as it whirred left and right.

Rukawa took the paper off the glass and dumped the rest of the tomatoes on. You scanned dozens of different piles of the tomates. Flipping them over and rearranging them on the glass. All the images were being sent to your computer but also being printed out. Rukawa assisted. Moving the red bulbs this way and that.

“When we’re done can we go to the roof?”

“Sure,”

You say to him. Many weeks later you will visit Rukawa's apartment and find the printed tomatoes framed in the hallway of his house.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N; @z_adeh on tiktok has this video of them scanning tomatoes and it zapped my brain

#kaede rukawa #Kaede Rukawa x reader #slam dunk #slam dunk x reader #gender neutral reader

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calamity-unlocked · 2 years

Text

“I’m Marie Kondo-ing the shit out of this,” Taylor grinned. “Man, I don’t get why I thought this’d be hard.”

“It’s because you’re a hoarder,” Scary said from his bed, not looking up from her phone. The second she arrived, she had put her platform boots on a pizza box to not get Taylor’s Shinobu bedsheets dirty, sat down, propped up by half a dozen of fluffy pillows, and hadn’t gotten back up.

“The right term is, 'collector'”, Taylor finely corrected her.

A few days ago, Taylor’s mom had momentarily shattered his world when she told him he needed to participate in spring cleaning. She was trying to clean up the attic, and had brought down four big boxes with his stuff, which he needed to either put in his room or get rid of.

Faced with the possibility of choice paralysis, Taylor had asked the most decisive person he knew to help him sort through his stuff. Scary hadn’t actually been of much help so far - for the most part she scrolled through her Facebook Messenger and scoffed at his disregarded childhood memories, making the occasional sarcastic remark as he grumbled about folds in posters and broken action figurines.

He’d offered Scary that anything on the ‘charity’ pile she could take, as a gift from him. She had rolled her eyes at Taylor’s offer, proclaiming she didn’t need his dweeby hand-me-downs. But Taylor and his eagle-sharp eyes had not failed to notice how every now and then an item would mysteriously go missing from the pile.

He didn’t bring it up – but he did stealthily pump his fist when he purposefully put his officially-licensed Death Note poetry bundle on the pile and it was gone the next time he turned his head.

He held up a black t-shirt with the anime remake version of a sleeping Aurora. The frilly text said: ‘only wake me up for anime’. “I’m torn about this one. Medium levels of joy. What do you think?”

“Lame,” she commented after a casual glance.

“Right then. That finishes up that box,” he said, dusting off his hands, not because there was actual dust on them but because he liked how it made him look like a Wild West saloon owner throwing out a misbehaving client while muttering ‘and good riddance’ under his breath.

He unsheathed his katana and cut open the tape on the next U-Haul box. It was labeled ‘Taylor, 2036’, with a little hand-drawn heart. He let out a single chuckle when he saw the various toys inside.

“Oh, this one’s easy. This is all stuff from when I was a baby.” He pulled out a bright green walkie-talkie, of which the battery had long died. “You want any of this?”

She just flipped him off.

Taylor rummaged through the treasure cove of plastic puzzles and wooden blocks, trying to look if maybe his mom had stored a box with his baby teeth in here somewhere – there were people who’d pay good money for those – when his hand hit something soft at the bottom. Almost like a reflex, like a baby monkey grasping onto its mother, Taylor grabbed it and fished it out.

It was a stuffed toy, yellow and blue and pill-shaped. A pair of goggled lifeless eyes smiled at him, and Taylor stared back, his mouth parting as his mind was very quiet all of a sudden.

From the other side of the room, Scary snickered. “Heh. You liked the Minions? Cringe.”

Taylor’s head snapped up, as though awakened from a trance. “No. What do you think I am, a zoomer?” he said defensively.

He had in fact seen the Minions anime, which had been based on the live-action movie, but he’d done so mostly to be edgy. Ever since the horrific Minion Massacre in 2039, the public’s opinion on the yellow creatures had wildly shifted.

But even before that, he couldn’t ever remember liking the Minions. He was obsessed with other bright and loud stuff as a kid, the kind of things that drove his mom crazy. The Minions had never really entered his mind. Until now.

He looked at the doll in his hand. Just a piece of plush and cotton stuffing. Nothing special about it – it didn’t even have a voice box with recorded messages. Its right arm had come loose, and cloud-like fluff was sticking out.

And yet, an indescribable feeling surged through his torso, wrapped around his heart, got stuck in his throat. There was a childlike urge to hug this thing right against his body, to press his nose against it and smell something that would be familiar–

He did. No need to pretend to be cool, he already was the coolest, and Scary knew that. Him sniffing an old toy wasn’t gonna change that. He was pretty sure.

It… it didn’t even smell like anything. Just musty textile. Disappointment welled up in the back of his throat, and he didn’t even know why.

“I don’t like the Minions,” he repeated numbly, not sure who he was talking to. “And it’s ugly.”

He heard the rustling of fabric as Scary sat up straighter. He could practically hear the quirked eyebrow in her voice when she said: “Then just throw it away. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Taylor blinked a couple of times, then willed his lips into a sharp smile. “Nah. I’m keeping this one,” he said, putting it on the shelf with his myriad of Kirby and Yoshi plushies. “Who knows. Maybe one day someone’s willing to put down big cash for it. You never know with collector’s items.”

That had been it, just a weird moment he’d been able to shake off and restore his chill. Scary helped him load the boxes with the stuff for charity in the car, and they went out to get ice cream after.

Later, every time he would casually just exist in the space of his room, he’d glance at that stupid smiling stuffed toy on his shelf, and feel a little better. He never asked his mom who had given it to him, because there was a part of him that already knew.

And if there was anything Taylor hated, it was being proved wrong.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #taylor swift dndads #taylor swift #scary marlowe #nick close #calamity's writing

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your-nanas-house · 2 years

Text

My heroine

Pairing: Jerome Valeska X Reader

Warnings: violence, cops, GCPD, murder, fluff, love

Words: 1112

Summary: Jerome falls in love at first sight.

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

..................................................................................

Jerome's laughter reverberated through the room as he held Bruce Wayne by the neck ready to kill him being stopped by Theo Galavan who was ready to kill HIM but something stopped him, more accurately a bullet hitting his hand causing him to drop his weapon, the noise drew everyone's attention and a thud made them turn their heads as they saw the scene of a girl knocking out Barbara Kean handcuffing her before pointing her gun at Jerome who was still staring at her surprised, the girl pushed Theo Galavan away making him to go with the other guests before attempting to save Bruce by grabbing Jerome and pinning him to the ground, taking her walkie talkie to communicate with the GCPD "I need reinforcements, the street is clear if you hurry the maniac won't get away" a guttural laugh came out of Jerome's mouth as he tried to look around pretending to look for something "maniac? Where's the maniac?" there was only a glare from her in response before she tried to handcuff him while he purred "what's your name, dollface? Because I think I've just fallen in love" he smiled in love as he looked at her with loving eyes.

The GCPD intervened by rushing in to deal with the various people, taking Barbara before also attempting to catch Jerome who apologised to her before moving his hips catching her off guard allowing him to kick her off and run away quickly, the girl didn't take long before getting up and chasing after him without success.

Going back to the charity party Jim Gordon approached her for an explanation and to find out where she was from or who she was, the girl stopped in front of him smiling at the sight "Jim Gordon?" he nodded slightly surprised accepting her hand for a shake "Y/n Y/l/n, new commissioner of the GCPD, it's a pleasure to meet you" she excused himself to shake Lee's hand and approach Bruce placing a hand on his shoulder quickly catching Alfred's attention "hello" she whispered as she smiled softly "I just wanted to make sure you were alright, I'm Y/n" she shook both of their hands.

That night Jerome couldn't sleep not because he was mad due to of not being able to complete what he was supposed to do but because of the memory of that girl on him, her y/e/c eyes looking at him as she held him down, a shiver passed down his spine and he had to think of something else as the near betrayal of Galavan who had assured him that it was part of the plan that he wasn't going to kill him for real but the trust he had in him before had gone a little.

That was the reason he showed up at the GCPD a few days later, he walked through the front door startling everyone who raised their guns pointing them at him, his pace was calm as he greeted the officers hopping a bit before stopping and looking at Jim while pointing his finger at him "Jimbo! I was looking for you!!!" the detective's expression was frowning and suspicious "what are you doing here, Jerome?" the ginger shrugged and chuckled "I was just passing by and...I want to know the name of the doll that was on me the day of Brucie's near death" the man shook his head "why?" "because I want to thank my heroine, duh" he smiled innocently "I want the name or this place blows up, you shoot me and the place blows up…BOM".

He managed to get what he wanted or so he thought when Jim walked away leaving him there for a few minutes and then a bigger smile appeared on Jerome's face at the sight of what was the girl who had haunted his dreams in those days "dolly!" Y/n stopped in front of him leaving a few steps between them ready to react, letting him take her hand to kiss her without letting her guard down "you look gorgeous, doll face, I didn't think they had you here, what are you a criminal?" he giggled and she shook her head holding her hands in her pockets "new commissioner of the GCPD, Mr Valeska" a softly sigh was Jerome's response as he reached up and grabbed her face to kiss her hard catching everyone off guard.

When the kiss broke the ginger sighed in love smiling at her, she cast a slightly scared and confused look at Jim who was looking at them confused with his hand on his gun "what are you doing here, Jerome?" she cleared her throat making the ginger smile more "are we on our first names yet? no more maniac?" he clapped excitedly "we're going fast, I like that" he laughed hugging her hips quickly "I love you, dollface, and I want you, you've been in little old me's head all THESE DAYS" he whined, smiling again when he met her eyes stopping to be dramatic "yeah?...." the girl moved her arms around his neck, hugging him lightly "Proved you love me, Jerome" he nodded quickly without thinking "who do I have to kill, dollface? Anyone I can do anything to get you..to prove you" she quickly shook her head brushing his lips "I don't want dead...I want names" Jerome tilted his head slightly thinking "names?" she nodded again "names of the people who got you out of Arkham, you give me something I give you something, Jerome, if you'll let us..me" a snort escaped his lips while he approached watching her back away slowly, starting to take it as a game, giggling and following her quickly into what was the interrogation room crushing her against the table "what do I get in return if I say that? They might kill little old me? Who would protect me?" he pouted, looking at her with fake puppy eyes while he stared at her lips and neckline "the GCPD, despite what you did….

we need names and...you can become my personal problem".

The ginger thought about it for a moment before telling everything in detail making noises and miming certain things, he then had to be alone in there for a few minutes while Y/n talked to Jim explaining that it was like his promises made to Selina or other people and that they couldn't send him to Arkham at that moment, that's why Jerome ended up in Y/n's flat living there with her so she would protect him in case Theo or Tabitha would come to get him.

Taglist:

@gabile18

@mrsfullbuster500

@trainer--taylor

@elizamalfoyy

@eovjjj

@animefan3223

@jeremiah-va1eska

@gothamchic16

@rabbiteggz

@dieg0brandos-wife

@rottenecstasy

@lazyexcuse

@teh-vampire-bunny

@lobotomy-lover

#gotham #gotham tv #gotham x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska x reader #jerome x reader

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frostfairysteve · 11 months

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Heya, talky talk talk, a thought I had earlier, Corroded Coffin get small gigs occasionally as warm up groups for charity concerts, and at maybe half of them end up with a few saying they were the highlight.

especially if the main acts do what the one at the event I was at tonight did and start with a video or let backing tracks do half the work.

Eddie himself would probably be agreeing and complaining "The dude left a guitar solo in on the backing track, literally half our group would have jumped up to perform it if he'd have just asked"

can you tell I didn't like the main act of the night?

that's not how live music works??? eddie should walk on tables about it

#kindnessisstillhere #my answered letters

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reynie-muldoons · 2 years

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HEY BITCHESSSS. Tomorrow's the day!!! I'm super hyped for the season 2 premiere. I never thought we'd get a show, let alone a second season, so this is literally a dream come true 🥴💚

If anyone ever wants randomized sheets, let me know!! I'll send them to you however works. They're saved on my Google drive bc I'm a nerd HAHA

I kind of didn't know where to split episodes 1 and 2, so uhhhh rip I guess. Here's the double feature!

episode 1: a perilous journey

episode 2: a bit of light chop

I might do predictions but also I kind of want to watch everything immediately tomorrow morning LMAOO

#the mysterious benedict society #mbs bingo #mbs disney+ s2 #charity's talkies #a perilous journey #a bit of light chop

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fishfingersandscarves · 7 months

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hello all! after 10 years of remission my dad was diagnosed with hodgekin's lymphoma for the second time in his life this august. since his diagnosis my family has been hit by every fucking roadblock and bad luck thing imaginable.

our insurance has decided to make everything we do incredibly difficult and my mom has been fighting for his proper care non-stop. our disability was denied because his work had accidentally been paying him full pay while on leave and now the state wants us to pay back 10k even though it was his company's mistake - or else no disability (we're going to petition this)

he's been suffering from symptoms from his chemotherapy such as intense body pain and deep neuropathy and a hernia (which needs to be removed by surgery but cannot while he's on chemo) alongside a slew of other problems. no amount of pain medication has been really helping and it's been really really awful.

we've been trying really hard to keep things all together but my mom is the only one working who makes enough to pay bills and it's just. really tough.

all this to say. i'd really really appreciate it if the link to this meal train was shared. and if possible someone were to donate.

thank you so so much

#talkies #link #donation #charity #cancer #my dad is in the hospital again today because he has a fever.#and thank GD he recinded his DNR...for now #its so. i have been crying so much and it sucks it sucks it sucks #anyway please share and or donate please

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toppersjeep · 2 years

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We Aren’t That Different- I Used To Love You(CH.1)

Val’s POV

“Come on Dustin we are gonna be late” I said yelling. “I’m sorry I had to grab my walkie-talkie” Dustin said. “We’ll hurry up Jonathan and I have yearbook” I said. “I still don’t get why you hang out with Steve Harrington and Jonathan” Dustin said getting in the backseat.

“The less you know the better” I said backing out of the driveway. We drove to school of course Dustin ranted about dungeons and dragons. Which I didn’t get the hype of. “So you ever gonna tell Jonathan you have a massive crush on him” Dustin said.

“Oh shut it I’ll punch you” I said parking my car next to Jonathan’s. “Fair enough I’ll see you later Val” Dustin said getting out. He ran down the hill to the middle school. I grabbed my book bag and camera and got out.

“Your super late” Jonathan said. “Listen Dustin was running around because he lost his book or something” I said. “It’s completely fine and you know you don’t have to park next to me” Jonathan said. “Why just because you don’t drive a nice car doesn’t mean anything” I said.

“You drive a beautiful 65 mustang I’m sure you’d much rather park with the basketball team” Jonathan said. “Yeah so Steve’s friends hit on me gross let’s go Byers” I said. “Your pretty cute when your mad” Jonathan said. “Save the flattering for the yearbook club” I said walking with him.

We walked in. Of course Steve and Tommy were standing there looking at both of us.

“Doing charity work Valerie” Tommy said. “Shove it up your ass Tommy” I said. “She’s just got a little crush” Caroline said. “Don’t you two have diseases to pass to each other or something” Jonathan said I laughed. “Whatever freak” Tommy said bumping Jonathan as he walked past.

“So you gonna come over later” Steve said. “For” I said. “A little party my parents are out of town” Steve said. “Sounds interesting but I’m helping Jonathan you know his little brother is missing” I said. “I’m sure he is” Steve said. “Why don’t you go suck faces with Nancy or something” I said.

“Henderson it’s always a pleasure talking to you” Steve said walking away. “Dick” I said. “It’s fine Val” Jonathan said as he opened the door to the yearbook classroom. “No it’s not Jon your brother is missing and nobody in this town gives a shit” I said.

“I know” Jonathan said. “I just can’t imagine what your going through I’m sorry” I said hugging him. “You don’t have to always be so nice to me” Jonathan. “We’ve been friends since elementary school Jonathan” I said. “Just because I’m a cheerleader doesn’t mean, I’ll stop hanging out with my best friend” I said.

“Well I’m glad your helping us my Mom appreciates it” Jonathan said. “Ok so we should probably pick a picture for the flyers” I said. “Yeah we should I was thinking this one” Jonathan said. “Perfect I’ll scan it in and we can make them” I said. “Alright” Jonathan said.

Later..

Jonathan and I hung up flyers around the school. Then of course Tommy H and Steve were bothering him again. I walked over to Steve’s car.

“Uh oh your little girlfriend saving the day” Tommy said. “Give me that” I said taking Jonathan’s bag from Steve. “Oooo feisty” Tommy said. “You hanging out with losers isn’t good for your reputation” Caroline said. “Oh and being a massive bitch is good for yours” I said.

“Come on Val hang out with us you know it will be fun” Steve said. “Yeah Val” Nancy said. “She should stop going after Jonathan he doesn’t even like girls” Tommy said I slapped him. “Watch your damn mouth” I said. “Val come on let’s just go ok” Jonathan said grabbing my arm.

“She’s such a bitch” Caroline said.

We walked over to Jonathan’s car. I waited for Dustin to come.

“What” I said. “You don’t gotta defend me like that they are assholes who cares” Jonathan said. “I care” I said. “That was a pretty nice smack” Dustin said. “Get in the car” I said. “Fine fine but it was badass” Dustin said.

“So I’ll see you tonight” I said. “I’ll come over” Jonathan said. “Yeah sure” I said with a smile. “Great I’ll see you then” Jonathan said kissing my cheek. “Will you hurry up” Dustin said. “You know you can walk you little jerk” I said getting in.

“So you still didn’t say anything” Dustin said. “With everything going on I just” I said. “I know but maybe it would help” Dustin said. “Your just saying that to get me out of those house more” I said. “Sure” Dustin said rolling his eyes.

I pulled into the driveway. We walked in Mom was sitting on the couch with our cat Mews. She was the sweetest little thing.

“There you two are I was worried” Mom said. “Val was smacking Tommy” Dustin said. “Valerie Rose Henderson what have I said” Mom said. “He had Jonathan’s camera I just” I said. “Oh protectI have your boyfriend” Mom said. “Mom he’s not my boyfriend” I said.

“She wants him to be” Dustin said. “Shut it” I said. “Don’t fight kids I’ll start cooking dinner ok” Mom said setting Mews down. I then heard a knock on the door.

Dustin ran to his room of course.

“I’ll get it” I said walking to the front door. I opened it was Jonathan. “Can I talk to you I know I’m early but” Jonathan said. “Yeah sure” I said he came in. “Oh wonderful Jonathan you staying for dinner” Mom said.

“Sure Mrs. Henderson” Jonathan said shutting the door. “Shoes off come on” I said taking Jonathan’s hand. “Gee sorry” Jonathan said.

We went into my room I shut the door. He sat on my bed.

“What’s going on is it Will” I said. “No nothing yet I just needed to get out my Mom is driving me crazy” Jonathan said. “Well still I can’t imagine what your going through both of you” I said sitting next to him.

“It’s hard Dad doesn’t give a shit and Moms going insane” Jonathan said putting a hand on my leg. Which gave me extreme butterflies. I have wanted that with him. But it always felt out of reach.

“Well I care and I’m here” I said he smiled. “And I appreciate you for that your my best friend” Jonathan said cupping my cheek. “What are friends for am I right” I said. “I just don’t get why you bother with me though” Jonathan said.

“We aren’t that different Jonathan” I said. “Good point I guess” Jonathan said. “Jonathan” I said. “Yeah” Jonathan said. “Earlier you … kissed my cheek was that” I said. “I.. guess it was just something I don’t know” Jonathan said. “Just something” I said.

“..I mean.. I kinda wanna” Jonathan said. “What don’t look at me like that and not say anything” I said. “I really wanna kiss you right now” Jonathan said. I didn’t wanna take advantage of him. He was feeling alone. But at the same time I wanted him to kiss me.

I’ve wanted him to kiss me since freshman year of high school. That’s when he suddenly became so attractive to me. All I’ve ever wanted was him since then.

“So do it” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear me. He kissed me it was weird at first. But slowly it became so passionate and much more than that. Not to mention he was my first kiss I dug to exactly have prior experience.

“Was that weird for you” Jonathan said pulling away from the kiss. “No why did I do something cause it was my first” I said. “Really” Jonathan said. “Mmmh I haven’t kissed anyone shoot I probably shouldn’t say more” I said. “No .. uh it’s alright I mean” Jonathan said.

“I’m ruining this” I said. “Just shut up Henderson” Jonathan said kissing me. We made out for a minute. Until I heard a loud knock on the door. I’m assuming it was Dustin or my Mom. “Mom I’m kinda in the middle of something” I said. “It’s not your Mom” Nancy said.

“Shit” I said. “Uh come in” I said fixing my hair along with Jonathan’s. “What do I” Jonathan said. “Shhh” I said. “Oh hey” Nancy said opening the door. “We were just studying” I said. “Right listen are you sure you don’t wanna come” Nancy said. “Yeah I mean I have other things” I said.

“You should go have fun you always hang out with me” Jonathan said. “Sure your boyfriend will be fine without you for a night” Nancy said. “We aren’t” Jonathan said. “Just really close friends” I said.

“Yeah” Jonathan said. “Dinners ready” Mom said. “Seriously think about it” Nancy said. “Honey would you mind watch Dustin tonight” Mom said. “I’d love to” I said. “See you tomorrow at school” Nancy said leaving.

“You wanna stat Jon” I said. “Ummm about the kiss” Jonathan said. “It’s alright I liked it” I said he smiled. “Dinner is waiting” Jonathan said. “Y…Yeah” I said. “Guys come on” Dustin said walking by.

“So Jonathan any news on Will” Mom said. “No not yet but Val has been very helpful” Jonathan said. “That’s my girl always helpful” Mom said. “I just hope we find him” Jonathan said. “We will” I said holding his hand other the table.

“If you have extra flyers I’ll take them to work” Mom said. “Sure” Jonathan said. “I’ll get you them after dinner” I said. “So Jonathan you kiss anyone lately” Dustin said. “Shut it” I said.

#fanfic #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things #joe keery x reader #joe keery #charlie heaton #steve harrington #love #dustin henderson #hawkins #stranger things fanfiction #millie bobby brown #stranger things x reader #frienship

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byneddiedingo · 1 year

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Two by Jacques Feyder

Cécile Guyon, Françoise Rosay, and Jean Forest in Gribiche (Jacques Feyder, 1926)

Carnival in Flanders (Jacques Feyder, 1935)

Belgian-born director Jacques Feyder established his career in France during the silent era, and went to work for MGM in Hollywood in 1929 to direct Greta Garbo in her last silent movie, The Kiss. But Hollywood was more interested in having him direct foreign-language versions of movies after talkies came in: Before dubbing became a common practice, films were often made in two versions, one in English for the American and British markets, others in various languages for overseas audiences. So Feyder was tasked with making a German-language version of Garbo's first talkie, Anna Christie (1931), though he also made two movies starring Ramon Novarro, Daybreak (1931) and Son of India (1931). Disillusionment with Hollywood sent him back to France, where he made his most famous film, Carnival in Flanders, in 1935. The rise of the Nazis, who banned that film after they invaded France in 1940, caused Feyder and his wife, Françoise Rosay, who starred in many of his movies, to move to Switzerland, where his career stalled and he died, only 62, in 1948. After the New Wave filmmakers began to dominate French film, Feyder's reputation began to wane: François Truffaut said of Carnival in Flanders that it represented a tendency to make everything "pleasant and perfect," As a result, David Thomson has said, "Feyder may be unfairly neglected today just as once he was injudiciously acclaimed."

Gribiche (Jacques Feyder, 1926)

Cast: Jean Forest, Rolla Norman, Françoise Rosay, Cécile Guyon, Alice Tissot. Screenplay: Jacques Feyder, based on a novel by Frédéric Boutet. Cinematography: Maurice Desfassiaux, Maurice Forster. Production design: Lazare Meerson.

The young actor Jean Forest had been discovered by Feyder and his wife, Françoise Rosay, and he starred in three films for the director, of which this was the last. It's a peculiar fable about charity. Forest plays Antoine Belot, nicknamed "Gribiche," who sees a rich woman, Edith Maranet (Rosay), drop her purse in a department store and returns it to her, spurning a reward. Edith is a do-gooder full of theories about "social hygiene." Impressed by the boy's honesty, Edith goes to his home, a small flat above some shops, where he lives with his widowed mother, Anna (Cécile Guyon), and proposes that she adopt Gribiche and educate him. Anna is reluctant to give up the boy, but Gribiche, knowing that Anna is being courted by Phillippe Gavary (Rolla Norman), and believing that he stands in the way of their marriage, agrees to the deal. When her rich friends ask about how she found Gribiche, Edith tells increasingly sentimental and self-serving stories -- dramatized by Feyder -- about the poverty in which she found him and his mother. But the boy is unhappy with the cold, sterile environment of Edith's mansion and the regimented approach to his education, and on Bastille Day, when the common folk of Paris are celebrating in what Edith regards as "unhygienic" ways, he finds his way back to his mother's home. Edith is furious, but eventually is persuaded to see reality and agrees to let him live with Anna and Phillippe, who have married, while she pays for his education. The whole thing is implausible, but the performances of Forest and Rosay, and especially the production design by Lazare Meerson, make it watchable and occasionally quite charming. Carnival in Flanders (Jacques Feyder, 1935)

Cast: Françoise Rosay, André Alerme, Jean Murat, Louis Jouvet, Micheline Chierel, Lyne Clevers Bernard Lancret. Screenplay: Bernard Zimmer, Jacques Feyder, based on a story by Charles Spaak. Cinematography: Harry Stradling Sr. Production design: Lazare Meerson. Film editing: Jacques Brillouin. Music: Louis Beydts.

Feyder's best-known film is something of a feminist fable, a kind of inversion of Lysistrata, in which the women of Boom, a village in 17th century Flanders that is occupied by the Spanish save the town from the pillage and plunder that the men of the village expect. Françoise Rosay plays the wife of the burgomaster (André Alerme), who holes up in his house, pretending to have died. The other officials of the town likewise sequester themselves. But the merry wives of Boom decide to wine, dine, and otherwise entertain the occupying Spaniards. It's all quite saucily entertaining, though undercut by a tiresome subplot (suspiciously reminiscent of that in Shakespeare's own play about merry wives) involving the burgomaster's daughter (Micheline Chierel) and her love for the young painter Julien Brueghel (Bernard Lancret), of whom the burgomaster disapproves. Again, Rosay's performance is a standout, as is Lazare Meerson's design: The village, with its evocation of the paintings of the Flemish masters, was created in a Paris suburb, with meticulous attention to detail, including the men's unflattering period costumes, designed by Georges K. Benda. The cinematography is by the American Harry Stradling Sr., who built his reputation in Europe before returning to Hollywood.

#Gribiche #Carnival in Flanders #Jacques Feyder #Cécile Guyon #Françoise Rosay #Jean Forest

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psalacanthea · 2 years

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Fleeing the noise and chaos in the cottage behind him, Fenris shoved his book under his arm and started stalking up the path to town. This morning already seemed beyond saving, and it had barely just begun. Things could only get worse, he supposed, as they so often did.

The twittering of the birds, the babbling of the brook as he crossed over the bridge, all of it seemed particularly designed to worsen his mood. As he headed into town, he could hear a faint explosion behind him, and he picked up his pace. Distance could free him from the disaster behind him.

Everyone was calling greetings as he wandered into town, even the insufferably Orlesian cobbler. He suffered through them stoically, trudging along. Why was everyone in Kirkwall so cheerful? What did they have to be cheerful about?

Didn't they know they were in Kirkwall?

“Good morning, Fenris!” the baker greeted him as he passed, and he rolled his eyes. “Off to the book shop again?”

Did the fool not see that he was holding a book?

“No,” He replied sarcastically, and then continued on his way. Nosy bastard.

He could hear people gossiping about him as he skulked up the street, not at all to his surprise. Why couldn't anyone in this damn place mind their own business? Why couldn’t they speak instead of sing?

Who cared about the price of eggs?

The door of the bookstore chimed as he pushed it open, slumping in and enduring the cheerful greeting of the proprietor. The man supplied him with books, and for that alone he would endure the chipper attitude.

“I came to return the book that I borrowed,” he informed the proprietor brusquely, offering it back over.

“Finished already?”

“I had nothing better to do,” he responded simply, turning to the shelf to examine the selection. Every single one he'd read several times, it felt like. “Do you have anything new?”

“Not since yesterday!” The man laughed, and Fenris gritted his teeth.

“Fine. Then I will borrow this one,” he decided, pulling a thick tome down from the shelf. Long enough to get him through today, hopefully.

“That one? But you've read it twice!”

He felt his eye twitch. Don't snap at the old fool. This was a store, and he let you borrow the books. Don't antagonize the man.

“Yes. It must be my favourite,” he finally replied with discreet sarcasm.

“Well, if you like it that much, it's yours!” he insisted, glasses sliding down his nose.

Lovely, charity. He wanted to refuse, but he knew that it would do no good.

“Thank you,” he replied grudgingly, and then stalked out of the shop before he could try to resume conversation. If he was lucky, he'd be able to find some peace to read for a while.

A herd of animals was blocking the thoroughfare through town, one of the idiotic sheep trying to bite his book. Luckily, a punch in the nose managed to dissuade it. He left it bleating in pain and continued on his way.

...

“Hey, nice shot,” Varric commented with a chuckle as Hawke downed a duck. “But do you think the middle of town's a great place to be hunting? You could shoot someone, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” she replied lazily, slinging the gun over her shoulder and sauntering over to join him. “But I won't, because I'm the best hunter in town. No beast alive stands a chance against me. And no girl, for that matter.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Varric replied sarcastically, and then added, “But still, you really shouldn't be firing a gun in the middle of town.”

“It's true, Varric,” Hawke continued, completely ignoring his utterly valid point. “And I've got my sights set on that one.”

She pointed across the square at a skulking, irritable looking elf with his nose in a book, gloomily ignoring people as they tried to talk to him.

“Er...he's...”

“The crazy old man's daughter.”

“Hawke, that's a man.”

“Same thing,” Hawke said dismissively, flipping a hand through her hair.

Varric opened his mouth, and then closed it.

“He's the one. He's the lucky girl I'm going to marry.”

“Still not a girl, Hawke.”

“He's the most beautiful girl in town.”

Why was he still talking? Hawke could have this conversation all by herself, really. Varric just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maker save him.

“That makes him the best. And don't I deserve the best?” He could feel her gimlet stare on him, and barely avoided rolling his eyes. Why did he hang out with this knucklehead?

“Sure, Hawke, sure.”

“Just watch, I'm going to make Fenris my wife,” she informed Varric, nodding her head firmly and striding off to catch up with the elf.

“...That's still a man, Hawke,” Varric sighed under his breath, watching her walk away.

...

“Hello, Fenris.”

The boisterous, cheerful voice boomed down at him, and he glanced up at the grinning face of Marian Hawke. Lovely. Just when he thought this day couldn't get any worse.

He sighed, moving to try and step around her. As he did, she snatched the book out of his hands, examining it with disgust, flipping through it.

“Hawke, give me my damn book back,” he growled, as she sneered at the pages.

“How can you read this? There aren't even any pictures!”

“Give me my book back,” he repeated. He wasn't going to educate the dolt, obviously schooling hadn't done her any favors.

“Fenris...” She threw the book over her shoulder into some mud. He felt his eye twitch. “It's about time you got your head out of those books and started paying attention to more important things. Like me.”

She was getting wound up for a speech, it seemed. Wonderful. Growling under his breath, he stepped around her and leaned down to rescue his book, wiping off the cover.

“The whole town's talking...”

“Hawke,” he interrupted, icily. “I have ripped the hearts out of men's chests for less insult than you have given me in the last two minutes.”

She fell silent, staring at him, and he turned on a heel to stride off. He had to get home, after all. If he was gone too long, the old man would probably destroy the entire town. That was feeling like less and less of a bad thing.

Behind him, Hawke stared, hands going to her mouth, cheeks red. Varric squinted up at her.

“I am going to marry that man,” she whispered, voice awed.

...

There was a loud bang from the cottage in the distance, and smoke poured out of the windows. Fenris didn't bother picking up the pace. If he was lucky, maybe the old man had blown himself up this time. He could hope, at least.

Reaching the cottage at last, he headed for the cellar workshop, throwing open the doors with a cloud of ash and smoke, and then pacing down the stairs. His father was sprawled out on the floor, covered in soot and seeming dazed.

“What did you do this time?” he asked impatiently.

“I believe...” Solas started, struggling to his feet, blinking rapidly, “that I may be on the verge of abandoning this line of work.”

“If only. Somehow, I doubt it,” Fenris sniped back. He turned his attention to the complicated-looking mess of a machine as Solas kicked it.

“I am quite certain this time. This device is simply too flawed to function as I need it to. I will bring down the veil.”

“You said that about the last one, and it nearly functioned in the end. You'll destroy the world sooner or later.” He hadn't meant to be reassuring, but he looked so damn dejected. Besides, every time he gave up on one of these things, he spent far too much time pestering Fenris. Better to keep him occupied.

“Do you truly believe that?” Solas asked hopefully.

“Sure.”

“Well! Why wait any longer? I will have it fixed in no time at all!” With renewed enthusiasm, Solas turned back to his machine, gesturing vaguely. “Please hand me the arulin'holm.”

“Get it yourself,” Fenris replied, moving to find a chair, sticking his nose back in his book.

#stupid crackfic #is this fenhawke?#beauty and the beast au #omg solas is the dad #I forgot about that #This is so stupid #I love it

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