#to go off the rails and get rich another way

[turtletoria]

let me take a selfie11!!1!11!!!

#turtlearts #wordgirl #wg #wg oc #my ocs #also boxleitner is sooo scared. pissing his pants #also ive made the executive decision that splice is a disillusioned college student #shes just graduated and under massive pressure to go to med school so instead of doing that shes using her rudimentary knowledge of science #to go off the rails and get rich another way #just like her hero~ #until he disappeared and was replaced with this wet towel of a man #im just kidding. i love u boxy #shes not kidding tho

[themultifanshipper]

Monaco. A truly magical place where anything can happen. Including potentially ruining your friendship with Max. With a plot twist.

Or, part 2 of my Max fic. Featuring a very special guest.

It's another long-ish one, guys ≈ 1.2k

"Max Verstappen wins the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix!"

You were pretty sure you were crying. Your best friend Max had just won the Monaco grand prix for the first time. A huge achievement in the world of F1. He lifted the trophy high above his head as you cheered from below. The whole Redbull garage was in chaos, everyone singing and cheering for Max. He winked at you before spraying champagne all over the podium, crowd, Lando and Carlos, all laughing and cheering at each other.

You couldn't help but feel sorry for Charles though, a DNF at your home race is always a hard pill to swallow. Hopefully he wasn't so bummed out that he wouldn't come out and party with you and Max, after all they had patched up their relationship since 2019 and he should be happy for his friend's win.

You, Charles and Max were close, often hanging out whenever you were staying with Max in Monaco. Usually ending up at parties until ungodly hours, you all finding company and going your seperate ways for the night, then meeting up the next day at a café, hungover and full of juicy gossip.

However this particular party felt a bit off for some reason. You'd managed to convince Charles to go out to a club instead of moping alone in his apartment. But there was a vibe. You weren't sure quite what the vibe was yet, but it was definitely there.

He was having more shots than usual, even after bad races. He was also hanging more around you instead of going to find girls to grind on and take back to his ridiculously giant bed. Not that you were complaining about it, you always welcomed Charles' company. But his arm found itself around you a little bit more often than usual. And you swore you saw him staring at your lips a bit too much for a public setting.

At one point Max found you and informed you he'd recieved a text from George, inviting you all to join him and a few other drivers at a yacht party. So you, Charles and Max went stumbling around the harbour trying to find this party.

Well, it wasn't exaclty hard.

It was the biggest yacht you'd ever seen, and in Monaco that was quite an achievement. It was more like a small cruise liner with so many people on it you were almost wondering if yachts could have a weight limit. It must have been some mega rich guy here just for the grand prix or something.

Before you could dwell on it too much however you heard a screech from above you up on the second deck.

"AYOOOO MAX! UP HERE MAN! AND YOU BROUGHT CHARLES WOOOOO! "

The three of you stared at Lando where he was hanging halfway over the railing, shirt way too open for decency, sunglasses almost slipping off his nose, and waving his glass around, getting himself quite wet. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

Once you got onto the boat it was surprisingly easy to find the small group of drivers consisting of George, Alex, Lando, his friend Max, Lance, who was obviously selling something around the place, Carlos, who had obviously taken whatever Lance was selling, and Checo in a corner feeling up a girl who was definitely not his wife.

Anyway, you quickly lost both Max and Charles as you all mingled around and made acquaintances. But after a a few hours, a few drinks, and a few of whatever the fuck Lance had sold to seemingly half the boat, you got a bit lonely and set off to find people you knew.

The first person you came across was Lando, who had also taken something if the way he was incapable of focusing on your eyes as you spoke to him was any indication. He informed you that Charles had been looking for you, before going to look for some peace and quiet in the upper decks,

You got him a glass of water as thanks before going off to find Charles. It took you fucking forever. The place was huge, and you even bumped into Fernando during your quest, who greeted you with a big sloppy kiss on the cheek before sauntering off. Wow.

You found Charles sitting in one of the many upstairs rooms that sort of overlooked the deck below, where most of the crowd was, visible through massive windows.

By the time you'd finished ogling the layout you looked at Charles and found he was already staring intently at you.

"I know that look, Charles" You scolded him.

"I know you do. That's why I'm doing it" He grinned.

"Are you really that bored?"

"It is not about being bored. I want you"

You rolled your eyes. He always knew how to pick his moments, and he knew you could never resist him.

"But also..." he continued slowly, grabbing your hips and pulling you towrds him; his face changing into something more vulnerable "I want to have something Max does not"

Oh . This was a new development. Charles was jealous??

For a while now you and Charles had been fooling around. Max knew about it of course, you weren't exactly discreet, and you'd stopped counting the amount of times Charles had mentionned it off-hand in front of him. It usually happened when neither of you could find someone to take home and needed some good sex. And by god the sex was good. But that's not the point. The point was that you didn't really want this to happen on a random yacht, where anyone could see you if they looked hard enough up at the windows.

Add to that the fact you were pretty off your faces, and were possibly abandoning Max at this giant party, and it was shaping up to be the worst idea you'd ever heard.

"Because I thought this would finally be the year I would win at my home race."

"So I'm a replacement trophy?" You teased.

"Of course not" He grinned up at you "I want to give you all the pleasure that Max took away from me..."

So, you ended up on top of Charles on the bed, facing the door, riding him like your life depended on it. At some point, his hand had made it's way around your throat and was squeezing as your eyes rolled back and your rhythm faltered and your legs began to shake. He took it upon himself to grab your hip with his other hand and start slamming into you from below. You moaned loudly, not caring about all the noise you were both making as the music downstairs pounded through the walls. After all the times the two of you had done this, he knew your body like the back of his hand, expertly fucking you speechless with minimal effort.

Then, you realised with a start you hadn't locked the door when a shadow appeared under the crack and the handle turned, door swinging open.

Of course it had to be Max. Life would be two easy otherwise.

As your eyes met, his widened and you gasped, pussy tightening briefly around Charles, who took it as a sign of you being close. Embarrasingly, the idea of Max seeing you like this turned you on so much you almost came on the spot. His eyes staring you up and down, at the way your tits bounced as Charles rammed into you, at the way Charles's cock was splitting you open, and at the way you were drooling all over yourself and down Charles' wrist, your own eyes fixated on Max's.

He looked more turned on than anyone you'd ever seen. You were probably quite the sight, being dragged up and down Charles' cock like ragdoll. The thought made you clench again, so Charles groaned and tightened his hold on your throat, hips never faltering.

"Fuck- so tight. My god- rub your pretty little cunt for me and come on my cock, baby"

Max's jaw dropped as you did what you were told and started circling your clit fast and hard. He'd never seen you take orders from anyone, much less Charles. And he'd never expected Charles to talk like that, especially to you.

"Good Girl, fuck! Come on my cock." He slammed into you a few more times "That's my good girl..."

You moaned loud and you came hard around Charles, not able to keep your eyes open any longer as you rode out the waves of pleasure as he spilled deep inside you.

When your vision returned, Max was long gone, and Charles looked pretty blissed out, not realising what had just happened.

Tomorrow's debrief over coffee was going to be awkward...

So there you go, that's what happened in Monaco. Is that what y'all were expecting?

Might do a part 3, maybe not, we'll see. ^^

#my thots #i'm not sorry #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #charles thots #max thots #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #mv33 #mv1

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hold My Hand

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.

Warnings: creepy guy doesn't understand 'no' and continues making unwanted advances, but Tim saves the day. angst to fluff (I guess?)

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your friends invited you out for a girls’ weekend, you were expecting a spa retreat or a cottage at the beach, not a penthouse in Los Angeles. More than that, you didn’t expect them to pick one of the sleaziest restaurants you’ve ever seen to spend their Friday night. Luckily – if there is a ‘luckily’ in this situation – you found a quiet corner on the rooftop. Your friends are downstairs, huddled around the bar as they look for rich, single men. It doesn’t exactly seem like the breeding ground for that type of man, though.

“Good evening, gorgeous,” a deep voice says behind you.

Assuming they’re talking to someone else, you ignore them, keeping your attention on the railing around the roof’s edge.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you,” he adds.

When his hand lands on your upper arm, forcefully turning you toward him, you truly begin regretting coming on this trip.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels like an animal in a zoo enclosure. Wearing a suit that isn’t his, in a place he’d rather never see again, with a few too many pairs of eyes blatantly watching him. 

Two hours ago, he was sitting in the station, minutes away from getting to go home. Now he, Lucy, and Angela are undercover in a known mafia club. While the women in the restaurant stare at Tim, the men try to catch Lucy and Angela’s attention.

Sighing, Tim checks his watch. He’s been in one place too long with no sign of their target.

“I’m gonna go check the roof, see if our target’s up there,” Tim tells Lucy.

“The roof?” she asks.

“Yeah, the bar.”

“There’s a bar on the roof?!” 

“We’re in Los Angeles, boot, of course there’s a bar on the roof. Angela, keep her close.”

Angela nods, and if Lucy wasn’t already a little creeped out by the men standing across the room, she would be offended.

Tim gets in the elevator, leaning against the wall once the doors are closed. The rooftop bar, however, is full of people who are somehow more intimidating than the ones inside. Looking around, Tim doesn’t see the target or any of his known associates. What he does see, though, is a situation that he shouldn’t get involved in, yet he can’t look away.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you cannot take a hint. You slowly back away until his hand falls from your arm, and one of your legs slides off the barstool. When your foot hits the floor, you stand and keep the seat between you.

“C’mon, gorgeous, ‘s jus’ a question,” he slurs. “Yes or no?”

“I said no,” you repeat firmly.

He doesn’t like your answer, though, and you try to hide your flinch when he slams his glass down on the bar.

“You here alone?”

You glance around, hoping you see someone who looks trustworthy enough to hide with. But you don’t see anyone who fits the bill.

“No,” you answer. “My friends are downstairs.”

“Just friends?”

He leans closer, his arm moving to cage you on one side. Inhaling sharply, you try to think of a way to escape this situation without making it worse or drawing more unwanted attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got nothing,” Angela says in Tim’s earpiece. “Anything up there?”

“No,” Tim answers.

“We’re leaving then. Can’t do anything without him here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve got to do something first. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

Tim removes the earpiece, switching it off as he drops it into his blazer pocket. Moving quickly across the rooftop, he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real plan.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” another voice says beside you. “I was wondering where you got off to. What’s going on here?”

You glance over, and your shoulders drop when you see how clean-cut and trustworthy he looks. Given your current situation, you’re glad to see a man who isn’t clearly a predator, but you try not to think about how low the bar is.

“Hi,” you reply. “I was trying to come back, but, uh, got caught up.”

Widening your eyes slightly, you try to communicate that you are not here by choice.

“Give her some room, man.”

The creep leans back enough that you can move, and you rush to your savior’s side.

“And next time a woman tells you ‘no,’ you’d do well to listen,” he adds darkly, letting you hide behind his shoulder.

“Whatever. She jus’ doesn’t know what she wants.”

A kind hand turns you around, and the man whispers, “I’m Tim.”

You tell him your name, flinching when glass shatters behind you.

“Hold my hand,” Tim says, spreading his fingers between you as he looks over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, you interlace your fingers with his. He pulls you close as the elevator opens. Once you’re alone, neither of you releases your grip on the other’s hand.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I hate that I had to jump in, but you’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

You shake your head, looking down at your joined hands.

“Do you really have friends downstairs?”

“I have… acquaintances that I will never be going on vacation with again.”

“Vacation? You’re not from here?”

“That’s the funny part. We all live here, so imagine my surprise when the weekend getaway was twenty minutes from my house.”

“Sounds like you need new friends.”

You hum before asking, “Who are you here with?”

“For work.”

At your confused glance, Tim raises his blazer to reveal a badge.

That must be why he helped you.

The door opens, and you pull your hand from his.

“Thanks for helping me, officer. Have a great night.”

Tim watches as you disappear into the crowd, stepping out of the elevator confused and surprisingly upset. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls the only person he can think of. 

“No questions, Angela. I helped a girl get away from a guy who didn’t understand ‘no.’ As soon as she saw the badge she disappeared. Something was happening before that-“

“Timothy,” Angela sighs. “She thinks you did it out of duty then let her flirt with you. Find her and ask her out, anything to show that you did it for her and not because of some twisted savior complex.”

“Thanks, Lopez.”

Ending the call, Tim heads toward the bar. He thinks that’s where groups of girls on vacation probably hang out. When the bar comes into view, he has no problem finding you, like the brightest light in a dark room.

“Nothing happened, I just went to the roof for a while,” you insist.

“No, you had that glow thing. You met a guy.”

“Maybe I did but he wasn’t interested.”

“Don’t drag me into this if you’re not going to tell the story right,” Tim says, approaching your side.

“Tim?” you ask, turning toward him.

Your body language with him compared to the man upstairs, even how you interact with the women you're here with, differs vastly. Squared to him and completely open, you’re practically inviting him to do something.

“I didn’t do it because I thought I had to. I was off the clock, not that it matters. My motivation may have been pure, just to help, at first, but then you held my hand and I never wanted to let go.”

“Can we…” you pause as you look around. “Can we please not do this here?”

“As long as we do it now.”

Tim offers his hand, and you nod as you take it. Leading you through the crowd, Tim keeps you close. Exiting onto the noisy Los Angeles street, Tim turns toward you.

“I could tell you needed help, or wanted it at least,” Tim explains. “But I don’t want this to end here. I- your hand fits in mine.”

“Please don’t tell me that means we’re soulmates or something.”

Tim smiles, and you forget why you were upset in the elevator.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he introduces, shaking your already joined hands. “I am a cop, but not with you. With you, I think I could be the man I’d like to be.”

“Romantic,” you murmur.

“I know. It’s scaring me a little. You can’t tell my friends, okay?”

“As long as we don’t tell mine either.”

“So, you’re willing to try?”

“I mean, where else am I going to find a knight in a shining navy suit?” you ask, leaning closer. “As long as your hand stays in mine, I’m willing to try.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #fem!reader #requests

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of EZRA'S dialogue/lines from the film PROSPECT.

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

Please also see my Writing For Ezra Guide for further analysis of his character and dialect.

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

__________________

Edited - I've been made aware of some errors since the original posting of this, so I've edited it to correct. Special thanks to those who have let me know! 🖤

__________________

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

*Fading in* … Curious.

Don't see too many kips around these ways anymore.

Not a kip… a returner!

Is that a serious question?

I believe you, gentle man.

But my partner always needs a little convincing. He'll just kill me, if I let you go without a thorough search. I never caught your name, friend.

Nice to meet you, Damon. I'm Ezra. I can't tell you how refreshing it is… hoo, to encounter another talker. It's been quite some time since we've run into anyone with fluid in motion. Where're you from, Damon?

How poetic. I take it you're a, hmm… floater? Freelancer. You don’t look very Fringely.

Yeah, don’t we all.

Alright, Damon. Understand what, now?

Damon, it has truly been a pleasure, but… pleasantries passed, it's time to gut the fencer. To be completely candid, this haul has proven to disappoint. Me and my partner both feel we deserve… satisfaction. You understand? 

So, how did you get here, Damon?

Your ship. Where is it? Or perhaps a ship is a tick too rich for you, a drop pod, I reckon. 

Excellent. The starter, if you don't mind.

Where is it? Don't make me root for it, Damon. I guarantee you, I'll make it an unnecessarily painful process.

That is not necessarily true. Nevertheless, continuing within the act of killing is a broad spectrum of technique. So, there is still an incentive for you to acquiesce if that's where you're getting at.

A twist? Go on.

And why would you be so cryptic under rails? You are lucky I am not immune to intrigue. But be careful you don't overplay this technique.

I've seen my share.

That's a theory.

It's funny. I don't see any mercs. Where are they?

Okay. I'd like to believe you. Admittedly, more out of desire than good sense. But Damon… if there is talk of the queen’s lair, the excitement is all but in involuntary.

And there's three of us. We split it in thirds. That's an even split.

This is so exciting!

__________________

What did your outfit look like, back in the day? You've always went solo?

Fancy. We had a full crawling party when we arrived here. Not one of your freighter takes, a testin' screamer.

Mercs in the Green, huh? Last I heard the word "merc" was way back when Crebon raiders hit up all the corporate expeditions.

Caero clan? You friendly with these fellas?

These cables… Goddamn it.

You know, this is something I have never seen in all my time on The Green. A little girl. 

Damon, I have clearly underestimated you, I must stop doing that.

Damon… Does this mean that the plan is off? You have me all up and bothered over the queen's lair, Damon.

Alright, you can have your fabled spoils all to yourself. But if your talk of the queen's lair is true… this is just a scratch.

Your girl is scared. You should listen to her. No harm done, yet.

It's a shame, Damon. We could've been rich together.

__________________

You got a field-kit?

Hey! Field-kit!

Are you gonna shoot?

That is… technically true.

Kevva waits, girl! Shoot or help! Just make a move.

Get me a kit and we can talk.

Your offer is indeed generous. Y'know, I'd be more than happy to sign and seal, save for one glaring slip. My ship.

Well I did. Then there was an event with my crew concerned in a bit of Aurelac and… words and metal flew. And now, I don't. We're in the same trough, you and I. Can’t say I was pleased to find your mare all black and cockways as she was supposed to be my redemption as well. 

Whoa! Whoa! Just slow down a beat there, little bird. At least wait for the counter-offer.

How is it you intend to get home? That is the goal. Am I right?

The Mercs. They’re real aren’t they? Mmm-hmm. And the queen's lair? Mmm-hmm.

You are making a run for them. 

Listen, I know well the lure of vengeance. I myself have… frequently indulged, and I have not often found regret. But in this moment, right here, I'm afraid for both our sakes, I must riposte.

I say, we go to your mercs. I play the prospector. And together we ravage the queen.

Let me help you. I can harvest. I can offer protection. A girl your age, a child, wanders into a camp of fringely mercs, raw. At the end of the tour, what happens? You appeal to their sympathies? They have none. They are ruthless profiteers. You must have something to offer or they will find something to take from you.

That's the fringe, girl. If you're one to point fingers at extortion, well, there's not much I can say.

Now, hold on. I'm keen to make the case that Damon killed himself.

He was trying to steal my trophy case, is what he was trying to do. A man's work is no petty thing. To you, his daughter… I truly apologise for my contribution to his passing. But he was stealing my entire harvest. And actions like these foment the threat of appropriate reactions. Your father knew that, and if didn't, then he had no business in The Green.

I am, indeed. But, are you?

It was all in the name of self-preservation, birdie, it was nothing personal.

I’m your safest route home and in the end we’ll both be rich. 

Of course. There is one more thing. My filter's spent. I'm gonna need a hook-up.

__________________

What is your name?

Do you mind if I take a look?

What do you know about these mercs? When did they arrive? How many are there?

He didn’t tell you anything? It's bad practice keeping you in the dark, if you ask me.

A deep partnership is only made so by candid discourse.

Number Two was more of a utility than a partner. And it seems like your father treated you the same way.

What's your name?

Well, I have to call you something.

Oi, Number Three. Watch that tube, girl. Straight finger. 

Thank you. 

If you don't know the thing about channel rats, is when they fornicate, they excrete a hormone substance - I don't really know what it's called - but it's uncannily sticky, it cocks up electrics. And it smells exactly like, but significantly more potent than, stale human urine.

Anyways, we stripped every panel in that ship. We clubbed those rat beavers to death. Two at a time. It was a toilsome marathon of carnage. We never did find the nest. 

You know, eventually, you're gonna have to trust me.

Just give me a moment.

You should keep the thrower low, we could be surrounded.

I said, keep it low. 

Don't show any sign of aggression. Drop it. Put your hands above your head.

Just do it. 

Just do it! Now!

We have to follow him. The wound would appear… ideal bite. It still has some venom. The dust. It’s found its way in and now it festers. The Sater are religious settlers and tedious scavengers. They should be amenable to trade for medical supplies.

We don’t have a choice.

Shoot me, then. 

__________________

(Greets in Sater language) I have sustained a wound that, due to inadequate treatment, now festers pink. I was hoping you had some juice?

Thank you, sir. We are tremendously grateful.

I thought perhaps it might interest you for trade.

A wise and understandable measure. We shall stow them at our discretion and return shortly, unarmed. Is that acceptable to you and your colleagues?

Here.

__________________

That was beautiful.

Juice. It's good for you, cleanses the dust.

Thank you for your kindness. Now, as you can see, I have sustained a trauma to my shoulder. I would much like to flush it with your magic juice. And to keep straight… we would also be very much interested in proper dressing, and filter refreshers, if you have them and can spare them? In return for your gracious offering, we are prepared to compensate with generosity in equal measure.

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

That is a bold offer.

What do you need her for?

__________________

(Ezra’s radio transmission) Hello! Hello to the green! I got… *inaudible*... I got one or two fourteen grade root pearls that I'm willing to part with for well over the peakest of rush rates. Nothing funny. Just a desperate man trying to make a bad deal with the right hold out. If anyone is out there, don't hesitate to click on...

Take your helmet off.

You look like shit. Eat it. There’s cases of 'em in here.

Here. I need your help.  

After you left, those Sater weren't too keen on helping me out… So I had to treat myself. I botched the excision. I was unable to clean and scrape the blackness. Now if I don't lose my arm, it'll kill me. And I can't perform the procedure by myself.

No. 

You ever use one of these before? It's easy. Prime it like this… then there are five levels of intensity. Two for the flesh, four for bone. You got it? 

Thank you.

I won't feel a thing. Hack away. Quick, confident strokes are best. Try to go full circuit on the first cut. 

I've never had to use these surettes before. Kind of nice… tingling, almost like… oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit!

Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit.

No, I don’t know. Keep going, you're doing great. Keep going until you hit bone. 

I’m gonna miss him. My primary weapon, been with me my whole life. Always there, ready to help, no job too gritty, no love too intimidating. 

Up to four, as soon as it's off, give my stump a hearty coat in the juice and cream it all shut! Clear? 

How are you so calm? You've done this before.

__________________

So, where’s home?

Spoken like a true floater. What's that book you carry around?

"Streamer Girl"?

You wrote a novel?

There's not a lot of literature in circulation out here.

Well, it seems I must.

You memorised it?

Not at all. It's quite impressive.

Focus on what?

Well, you can't… you can't think like that. You go down that path, it's not good. If you need someone to blame, you blame me. You need to think about your next move. Be on that freighter in a tick.

It’s nice to meet you, Cee. 

__________________

Well. There's our ride.

Stay clear and close and I’ll talk us through. When it comes time to dig, I’ll need you to be sharp. I've never harvested one-handed before. I'm gonna need some help. But we'll keep it creamy and it’ll all be fine.

Damon, here for the dig. You wouldn't believe the time we’ve had of it, getting here. I wholeheartedly apologise for being late. But after the storm tidied us off mark, we were already a cycle back and naturally-

I wholeheartedly apologize. You wouldn't believe…

Well, actually… uh, before we get started. I'm afraid I must interject. I haven't been completely candid with you yet. After an erring landing and toilsome trick, there is one more significant detail to our story, one that forces us to leverage our talents for little bit more than the agreed upon price.

It's not more of a cut we're after. The points are more than adequate payment for the two of us. Rather it's a means of transit we lack. 

Well, now, what she means to say is that while transport is a requisite part of the deal, we are willing to forgo two points. Which by any reckoning is exorbitant compensation for a hop into orbit.

Oh, come now. In a prize… Scrap well over the weight of the passenger and a half. Cargo braces. That's one hundred, one-thirty right there.

You're not understanding me. Everything has changed. If you're not willing to scrap payload, scrap crew for all I care, but you'll find a way, if you want that buried treasure.

I am the gatekeeper to more wealth than any of us have ever seen, and you've been wasting in The Green for far too long to let that slip away. I'm afraid, I am the only means to the successful end of your venture. And I say the terms have changed. Thirteen, plus a ride for me and my partner on your handsome craft or no deal. Find a way.

My boy, this is a winner! I think a little back up thrust is an easy drop under the circumstances. What do you say, boss?

Gentlemen. And women… Let's get rich!

__________________

Strange method for an execution. What did this fella do to land him in the box?

How convoluted!

Somebody ought to give her a go.

That's the price for a dry breach. But my chem will calm the brine.

Hello, sweetheart.

It's a big one.

You got it? Hold it nice and tight.

Hold it like you love it. 

Oh. That's perfect.

Slippery son of a bitch.

No, no, no. Shit!

Not to worry, we go again.

(Muttering to self) *Inaudible* (?)leech on the(?) …cock spitters … cannot fuck more nuggets in this sleep for snatch, pearls… 

It's a little difficult to carve weak-handed!

Now hold on!

Those shots will bring the rest of ‘em in.

I don’t know.

Greedy fool! Couldn't help himself. Took a stumble, getting a closer look. Now, time presses and I am gonna need assistance if we're-

Go, go, go!

Move!

I'm out.

If we uncouple you can run a distraction, opening me up for the backstab. 

Are you sure?

You run fast and you don’t stop. You keep plenty of trees between you and her. You come straight back here as soon as I make the kill so we can re-couple. Clear?

You need to go. You grab the gun and you go. You can make it. 

Get outta here!

__________________

DELETED SCENE:

What is your name? 

Well, I have to call you something. 

Once, a long time ago, there was a channel rat. Well, first there was an entire nest. Caulked up in the floorboards of my skimmer, this was back when I was running catkins with my brother in Parson. 

If you don’t know, thing about channel rats, is when they fornicate, they excrete a hormone substance - I don’t remember what it's called - but the relevant details are that it is uncannily sticky, it cocks up electrics, and it smells exactly like, but significantly more potent than, stale human urine.

So, this horny cohort is scrambling around unseen, plastering up my walls with their piss paste, and the smell… was so horrific. And we had to wear nuke suits all the time, even when we slept.

So, after we exhausted our repertoire of civilised extermination methods, it soon devolved into barbarism. 

We stripped every panel in that ship and clubbed those rat beavers to death, two at a time. It was a toilsome marathon of carnage. But the bag of corpses steadily grew heavier.

We never did find the nest. But by the end of the run, we were down to what as far as we could tell was the last rat standing. This little bitch waits until we make ground fall, saunters into the galley, climbs up onto the table, and I spin you not, stands right up on its hind legs and starts calmly munching on a piece of bush bread. 

Maybe it was our impending reunion with civilization, or maybe it was exhaustion, but neither of us could bring ourselves to bash that last channel rat. So we just sat there and watched it eat the entire biscuit.

When it was done, it walked over to the airlock, waited at the hatch as if it expected us to just open it, so we did. And then walked out. 

You remind me of that channel rat, so in the absence of a given moniker, I will now call you Channel Rat. 

Number Three it is. 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect 2018 #prospect film #prospect 2018 #ezra dialogue

[marleysfinest]

you look so pretty...

nsfw eren x fem reader. minors dni. cw public foreplay/sex, mild dominance, eren being stroppy

word count 1.9k

obligatory tags to the eren babes @somelattes & @bloompompom

you stretch and rub the sleep from your eyes, pleased to see that the weather has improved since yesterday. eren stirs slowly beside you, eyes closed, but you know he's awake. before you have a chance to slip out of bed and head towards the shower, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you in close.

"mornin'," he croaks, eyes still firmly closed as he clings on to sleep as firmly as he's clinging to you. "time is it? come back to sleep."

you stroke his forearm affectionately as you contemplate the attractive idea, but you know that you should get moving. you want to beat the crowds at the mall before it becomes unbearably busy, knowing that saturday shoppers bring out the worst in you.

"nine," you reply quietly, "c'mon, if you're coming with me then we should get up."

his hold on you tightens, pinning you square against him beneath the feathery sheets.

"d'you have to go?" he asks, his voice carrying a slight whine that you're all too familiar with, "let's just stay here. we've got the whole weekend."

you groan, wishing you could stay, but knowing that there was no way that you could squeeze another week out of your work shirts. you'd left it long enough; if you pushed your luck any further, then you risked an embarrassing incident that you knew for certain you didn't need. no, it had to be today. he tries his best to encourage you to stay, his fingers tracing your breasts and pinching your nipple, knowing it's usually a sure-fire way to get you in the mood, but you're taken by a strange sense of determination this morning.

"c'mon," you urge, tapping his arm so that he releases you, and you sit up on the edge of the bed, "sooner I go, sooner I'm back. you coming?"

eren looks up at you with hooded, scowling eyes, dark hair tangled against the cotton pillowcase, and heaves a sigh.

"fine," he succumbs, "go shower and get ready, I'll hop in after you."

eren reluctantly agrees to join you, thinking that spending time with you while shopping for clothes is better than no time at all. his grumpiness alleviates slightly when you offer to buy him coffee en route, and so you slip into the starbucks outside the mall before beginning your mission. you call up your orders - hazlenut latte for him, chai latte for you - and before long you're swiping up your orders from the barista at the end of the counter. you take a sip, savouring the richness, and eren does the same.

"good?" he asks, you nod, swallowing your mouthful of coffee.

"mine too," he adds, "although, I can't help but think you'd have enjoyed the taste of me better this morning..."

his voice trails off, making it no secret what he was insinuating. you slow your pace to glare at him, eyebrows raised, surprised at how he was being so forward even by his standards.

"we've got the whole weekend," you reply, deciding to throw his own words back at him, which has the desired affect. you just about hear the sigh of frustration escape his flaring nostrils, and you could've sworn that a quiet groan slipped from the back of his throat. feeling strangely pleased with yourself, you pick up your pace, heading inside the mall with your boyfriend in tow.

despite it still being relatively early, the stores are already packed with shoppers hungry for a deal. you elbow and rub shoulders with the public as you frantically search for your new work clothes, becoming more and more desperate to be at home with every passing minute. when you finally reach a section of zara that not only has a half-decent offering of shirts, but is quiet, you take the opportunity to relax the tension in your muscles and flick through the rails at a much more leisurely pace. after pulling some pieces to try on, you feel eren's presence behind you, boxing you in beside the secluded racks. before you have a chance to ask him what he's doing, you feel a cold hand rub against your thigh before riding up your skirt and grabbing a handful of your ass. you smirk as you realise the game that eren's playing, and as he repositions himself, he wraps his remaining arm around your waist, pinning you to him as the other slides his hand from your ass to the elastic of your panties. his fingers barely graze your lips as you suddenly feeling him pressed up against you, and you realise that he's really the one being tormented here.

"something wrong, baby?" you ask, your head lolling back to rest against his shoulder. he looks down at you, emerald eyes burning, the hunger in his expression more obvious than the nose on his face.

"nothin'," he replies, "just... trying to persuade you."

"here?"

"what? we're alone."

there's conviction in his statement, and you realise that he genuinely believes what he's insinuating. you know that, if you gave him the word, he'd fuck you right there against the rails, but having sex at the risk of being seen by not only fellow shoppers but the numerous security cameras surrounding them was not on your to-do list.

"c'mon," you say gently, breaking him out of his daydream, "I need to go and try this stuff on. come with me? I want your opinion."

you take your head off of his shoulder and peel yourself away from his hold, albeit reluctantly. after quickly scanning for the changing rooms, you take one of eren's hands in yours and pull him after you, your fingers limply entwined. if you sense him slow his pace to observe the swaying of your hips (which perhaps you're doing deliberately), then you're sure it's pure coincidence.

he takes a seat on the little stool outside of your cubicle , and as you close the door with a smile, you can't help but notice the pained look on his face and the hunger in his eyes. after sliding the lock across, you slip off your t-shirt and pull on the silky, candy-floss blouse and carefully do up the buttons. you like it; it feels nice against your skin, and fits well, but you want a second opinion. you open the cubicle door to see eren scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, although not for much longer. he looks up to see you striking a deliberately over the top pose, and there's a swell of butterflies in your stomach. you giggle and await his response, noting the almost predatory way he's looking at you as he tucks his phone back into his pocket.

"let me take a closer look," he mumbles, sighing as he gets to his feet and joins you in the cubicle.

once the door is locked once again, eren keenly inspects the shirt. his eyes wander from where it hugs your waist and up to where it gently enhances your breasts, looking progressively unconvinced.

"I don't like it," he says frankly, finally meeting your gaze. "take it off."

you huff a sigh, and slowly begin to undo the buttons from top to bottom, pretending to fumble to see just how much you can rile him. after just two buttons, eren quietly growls and reaches for you in an almost angry frenzy. you're taken aback, but don't mind as long as he doesn't rip off any buttons. he pushes the blouse off of your shoulders, exposing your chest and lacy bra, bringing himself closer to getting exactly what he wants. he takes two handfuls of your breasts and begins to massage them, leaning in to smother himself in them, kissing and licking, knowing how it always gets you going. as your head falls back, you can't help but smile.

"someone's desperate," you tease. he looks at you intensely, and you pretend to ignore the sound of him undoing his belt buckle.

"someone is being a little brat," he retorts, "take it off."

you oblige, realising that, despite achieving some privacy in the changing room, you are still technically in public, and drawing attention to yourselves wouldn't be the wisest choice. you also knew that eren wasn't above causing a ruckus to get what he wanted. you slip the blouse off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor, and succumb to your boyfriend's somewhat feral urges. he hooks his hands around your thighs and forces you to wrap your legs around him, and pins you to the changing room wall. his lips are all over your neck and collarbone, licking and sucking and leaving trails of faint love bites that you'd need to cover with concealer on monday morning. you feel him pressed between your legs, and you realise that you hadn't even noticed him slip his boxers down to his ankles, and so when he slips your panties to one side and slides in with ease, it takes you by surprise. you suck in the air through your teeth as you're forced to adjust, the sound of your breath making him twitch.

"isn't this what you wanted?" he asks, purring into your ear, "isn't this what you've been teasing me about all day long?"

you smile as you cling to him, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and gripping on to his t-shirt. he begins to thrust in and out painfully slowly, drawing out quiet but heavy sighs from you each time his pelvis meets yours. your head lolls back against the wall, and despite your eyelids falling heavily through pleasure, you know that eren is looking at you in this state of risky euphoria. you feel his grip on your thighs tighten, pulling you closer together, and burying himself as deep as he can go. you bite back a groan, knowing that he's trying to get a rise out of you, and force out a giggle instead.

"c'mon, you can do better than that," he mutters, suddenly serious as he starts to move his hips again, faster this time. "you're the one that wanted me to come with you. show me what we could've been doing at home all this time. properly."

for a split second you consider it, going all out and letting your inhibitions go so that the entire store would know what you were up to. you even considered whether you liked the place enough to care about inevitably being banned from it, but you still had some of your wits about you. deciding not to fuel his fire any further, you remain silent as you tighten your legs around him, forcing him to bury himself deeper. he throws his head back and groans at the feeling, hitting your deepest part again and again and relishing in the slick building up around him. you let a few choice whimpers escape - louder than you'd wanted - and you both failed to consider anyone who might have been around when you came. eren breaths heavily into the crook of your neck, barely masking his moans as he throbbed inside you, and the two of you stand for a moment while you regain some clarity.

with an always surprisingly gentle hand, eren helps clean you up and get dressed. he carries the clothes you need to return to the rack, saving you the job, and you both walk out of the little changing room with warm cheeks and smiles on your faces.

that was, until you see the security guard standing at the entrance, glaring at you both with the store's suited manager at his side.

#remember when I said 'I don't fuck w the jaegers' #HAHAHAHAHAHA #this is it I have nothing left #I am a husk #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan #aot #snk

[any-mouse]

Ra’s Al-Ghul Is Why We Batclan Can’t have Nice Relationships Things.

Ok, so. I am not someone who knows a lot about the DC fandom, but fics and the DCxDP crowd (who are why I’m here) have given me information and research binges have given me more. And here’s a take I haven’t seen about Jason’s death, and why Batman not killing Joker made things dangerous for Robins. Or did it?

Batman could not win. If Ra’s decided the only thing that would get his chosen heir, or at least son-in-law, into killing would be to kill Robin, it’s time to send his assassins in. Batman keeping to the “no-killing” rule is the only thing keeping a bunch of kids and teens from facing down, not the gangs and henchmen of Gotham, but a literal death cult.

Which is one thing that makes me wonder if that’s hadn’t been Ra’s’ plan, only manipulating the Joker into doing it for him. Which casts Batman undoing Nightwing’s killing of Joker in a very different light.

But there are other things that go along with that. And why Ra’s is a bit, fixated, on poor Tim. With how wrathful and brutal Batman became after, everything, it was only a matter of time before someone died. And then all Ra’s has to do is, wait. Drop hints or little reminders of the League, maybe have Talia swing by a few times. Allow the previous rapport to rebuild itself. In the meantime, build up Jason’s rage, anger, betrayal, and then unleash him on Gotham. Watch as the two brutal titans clashed, until Batman kills Red Hood. It would utterly destroy Bruce to have been the one to kill Jason a second time.

But, ah, there is a chance to fix this. The Lazarus Pit. Bruce will do anything to undo this fatal mistake, wrought at his hands and driven by his wrath. And in his grief stricken desperation, as he looks back on his rampage with despair, at all of the people he maimed, crippled, and killed in his agony, in steps Ra’s. Don’t worry, Ra’s has been collecting them. Fixing them. He does not agree with Bruce’s decision to leave, he still does not support Batman’s policies. But he knew it was important to Bruce so he took steps to ensure that no irreparable damage was done. Slowly, carefully, drawing a grateful Batman back into the fold. Wearing away at morals already cracked by grief and rage, using soft words where harshness has failed. Reviving Jason once again, keeping the two of them orbiting each other like binary stars, unable to leave, but always wanting to stay.

And it’s all foiled by one rich brat who’s stealthier than he has any right to be. Tim knows that Batman is going off the rails of sanity at an ever quickening pace. If he’s close enough for good pictures, he’s close enough for first aid and responder calls. So there is A Lot of damage and wreckage left in Batman’s wake, but nothing that isn’t salvageable. Ra’s won’t have a cadre of former henchmen and goons brainwashed into serving as Gotham’s foot soldiers but that would have been secondary. But Tim does more than that. Tim throws himself between Gotham and Batman because no one else will. Tim is a highly intelligent and self-sufficient child. His self-worth is in the toilet, thank you very much Drake bio-donors.

So Tim out-stubborns Batman and glues himself to his side and pulls him back. He cuts off the roaring rampage of revenge. Batman starts healing and Ra’s just can’t have that, oh no. But this is an easy enough fix, and it’s even better than the first plan. After all, loosing the last Robin to a violent villain led them to this point. How much worse would it be, to have started to heal, only to have it happen again? To destabilize that way again? Oh, Batman will never be able to resist, there had always been the possibility that Red Hood would win. Not high, and not an unworkable outcome, but snuffing out yet another Robin would ensure Red Hood would die, and then Ra’s would have another knife to twist Jason to his will. Taking pointer from his killer, not just his name, tsk tsk.

And it’s not like he couldn’t revive Tim as well, play the two of them off against each other and Bruce. Using their enmity and bitterness to wound Bruce, using Bruce to keep the two of them from spiraling out of control in their rivalry, make them resent Bruce for picking sides, rubbing salt into Jason that Bruce cared enough to avenge Tim but not him. Taunting Tim for what Bruce dragged them all into over Jason. Throw Damian into it just when it seemed to be settling into an uneasy dynamic equilibrium. Setting the boys on Blüdhaven, drawing in Bruce. See which way Bruce jumped, to protect Dick from the boys or if Bruce will try and recruit Nightwing for the League.

Ra’s has so much to gain from Joker killing Jason. It wouldn’t be difficult to send in a few assassins disguised as henchmen to plant the idea. Sacrifice a pawn or two, to gain a queen and rook.

#dc extended universe #dc fandom #ra’s al ghul #batman #batfam #league of assassins #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #damian al ghul #jason todd #red hood #dc joker

[teaberrii]

Chapter 4: Shall We Date...?

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“...My ex-wife.”

You sit up for what feels like the tenth time that night. It has been hours since you and Jing Yuan parted ways, but you still can’t get that out of your head. You’d wanted to ask, but was that too personal? Regardless, you didn’t get a chance as Yanqing and Pom had woken up.

Now, you're left with a million questions. But, this means Jing Yuan isn't gay. Or, maybe he’s pan, bi, or—

You sigh loudly and fall back onto the bed. Does his ex-wife still work at Star Rails Hotel? Who is she? A manager? Or, just another regular employee like you? How long were they together? What happened—

You sit up. This is getting out of hand. Your eyes are dying to rest, but your mind’s running laps. You get out of bed and slip on a thin jacket over your PJs. Then, off you go to get some much-needed fresh air.

The air is crisp and chilly, calming your mind in ways that lying in bed can never accomplish. Eventually, you come across a pool where the dim glow of the lights inside the water makes it look almost ethereal. You’re walking along the side of the pool when you hear a woman’s voice.

“Can’t sleep either?” You look towards the white beach chairs just as March lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head. She’s looking at you with a small smile. “Join the club.”

“What’s with the sunglasses?” you ask in amusement, coming up to take the empty chair beside her. “Not judging, just wondering.”

“I was hoping it’d help me get some sleep, but then someone showed up out of the blue.” March sits up, her thin, airy blazer moving to the side. She says she’s here to get some sleep, but with her crop top and shorts, you think she's ready for a swim. “What’s keeping you awake, Femme Fatale? Is it a guy, hm?” She leans forward and whispers, “Is it Boss?”

“...Are you talking about Jing Yuan?”

“Who else?”

You cross one leg over the other. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw the way you two were looking at each other at the dinner table.” She chuckles. “Nothing escapes my eyes.”

“Well, he’s been a nice guy so far,” you admit, looking at the pool.

“Hey…” When you turn back, March is looking at you with curiosity. “Are you trying to find some faults in him or something?”

“It’s not that. It’s…” Then, you give her a deadpan look. “You’re asking a whole lot of questions, March.”

She laughs. “Sorry. To make up for my rudeness, is there anything you’d like to know?”

Well…

“Why do you call him Boss?”

March leans back and looks out at the pool. You sense there's a personal story behind the nickname as the silence is not what you’re expecting. Then, March says, “Long story, but we were guests when he was still getting this B&B off the ground.” She turns to you. “...Back then, I was still active.” Active? “Judging from your expression, you still don’t know who I am, huh?”

“You’re March, right? That influencer—”

Just as the man’s words come back to you, March says, “March 7th reporting for duty!”

Wait a minute.

Your eyes widen. “You’re March 7th?!”

“Gosh, took you long enough.” She sighs. “Then again, I can’t blame you.”

March 7th. She was a popular online influencer in her early twenties who disappeared from the Internet after multiple scandals. 

‘Fake’ Rich Girl Cancelled

Scandal-ridden Influencer Upcoming Appearance Cancelled

Online Influencer Stops Activites After Unreal Discovery…

You’ve heard of her and seen her ads in department stores. While you weren’t a fan, per se, you knew that she was known for her popular videos that showcased her “idol-like” visuals and talent. She sang and danced and appeared on reality shows. You vaguely remember hearing from your friends that she was caught smoking or promoting fake products. There were more accusations, but you didn't pay much attention as you had your life to worry about. 

Regardless, you remember her being much skinnier with long hair. Her makeup style was also a lot bolder than what it is now. That was years ago. Now her features have matured, but when you look closely, you can see it. The essence of who she used to be.

While you don’t remember what caused her online career to plummet, you’re at a loss for words. You never thought in your wildest dreams you’d meet someone like March 7th.

“...You’re not going to ask?” 

“About your scandals?” You’re curious, no doubt. “That’s none of my business. But, I just…” Then, quietly, “It’s crazy to think that a celebrity is in front of me right now.”

“Looks like my hunch about you was right.” She puts her hands on the chair. “You’re not the type that goes crazy over celebrities and whatnot.”

“I like to think I’m past that phase, thank you very much.”

You and March quietly laugh. Then, she takes out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She slides it open and offers you one. You politely decline. To your surprise, she puts it back inside her pocket instead of lighting one.

“...Anyway, to answer your question, Jing Yuan helped me out of a bad place.”

It was the early hours of a cloudy day when March went out for a smoke. She lit a cigarette and took a drag just as she saw a shirtless Jing Yuan working in the garden. Did he really not recognize her? He’d treated her like any other person. She wasn’t a failed celebrity or a girl with "issues." She was just like everyone else.

March walked over and continued watching him. She’d seen her fair share of physically attractive older men. But maybe it was because of the industry she was in that most of them were sleazy or had ulterior motives. Yet what she’d seen of Jing Yuan so far... He was none of those things but a hardworking, upstanding guy.

Jing Yuan stood and turned around. “Do you need something?”

“Your attention would be nice.” Jing Yuan raised a brow, and March chuckled. “I’m just kidding.” Then, she took another drag. “...You don’t happen to have a map of the island, do you? It’s my first time here.”

“You can find one at the reception counter. Pom should have some—”

“Already checked,” March lied. “Do you have any at your office?”

Jing Yuan walked up to her, and March awkwardly avoided his eyes. “You checked, huh?”

“...Yup.”

But, instead of calling her out on her lie, he put on a shirt and said, “...Follow me.”

When they walked side-by-side, she casually asked, “Why don’t you hire someone to do all this manual labour for you?”

“Someone’s curious.”

March shrugged. “Just something I observed. You have a few workers here and there, but you’re still doing a lot of the management stuff yourself.” She looked around at the guests who were enjoying a casual BBQ or casually strolling around the resort. “But, this place looks like it’s doing well enough for you to hire a few extra people.”

“For someone on holiday, you sure are paying a lot of attention to what’s happening around here.”

Jing Yuan opened a door to the cabin designed like a mini office. But, before March could follow him inside, he said, "...Wait here."

She stepped closer to him and her body was inches away from his. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then you'd be trespassing, and I could kick you out."

March almost felt offended at how unamused he sounded. "...Do you know who I am?"

"Are you here for the map or not?"

March sighed and walked off the porch. "Go on. I'll wait here." 

When Jing Yuan came back out, March was sitting on a rock, looking bored as hell. He walked over and handed the map to her. "This one has a few day trip recommendations so you'll have ideas of what you can do."

March stood and took it from him. Then, she crossed her arms. "Sounds like you're trying to kick me out."

"That wasn't my intention. You're free to stay, of course. But, it would be a waste to spend your entire day at the resort. There's a lot to see."

Sensing his genuine kindness, March frowned. “You aren’t scared your reputation’s going to plummet because you’re housing an unruly celebrity?" 

“If I was, I wouldn't have let you stay here."

"So you do know who I am," she said, narrowing her eyes.

“No matter who you are, you’re a guest like everyone else. Why would I treat you any differently?”

There’s so much to unpack that you don’t know where to start. 

“I kinda wanted to flirt with him, if I’m being honest," March says, leaning back. "But, after he said that, it made me realize that I was young and dumb.”

“...How so?”

“The rumours about me that were going around at the time… Not all of them were true. But, I started believing all the nasty things people were calling me." March sighs. “I won’t bore you with details, but Jing Yuan was a stranger. Him treating me just like any other person made me see things a little differently. Maybe he was judging me back then, but if a stranger could see past that, why couldn’t I do it for myself?”

“You seem to be doing a lot better now,” you say with a little smile. 

“I am, but I’d like to attribute that to my hard work. It has nothing to do with Jing Yuan.” She laughs. “But, yeah, I mean… it’s in the past and we get a good laugh about it now.”

“I never thought you’d be into older men, though, if I’m being honest.”

March leans forward. “Jing Yuan ages like fine wine, I swear. We’d never mix well, but I was so shocked to hear about his divorce.”

“...Was he married when you, uh…”

March raises her hands as if declaring innocence. “I knew nothing about a wife and a kid back then. If I knew, I wouldn’t have flirted with him. Wasn’t a few years later that I found out. It’s still a shock to many people.” March lies back on the chair. “He hasn’t seen anyone since... probably because he was so busy trying to get this business off the ground that he had no time for things like that."

The skies have brightened, and from over the horizon, the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

“Hey.” You turn to March who has a curious sparkle in her eyes. She asks, “What do you think of Jing Yuan?”

“...He seems like a good guy.”

March rolls her eyes. “Girl, give me the tea. Do you think he’s hot?”

You don’t get a chance to answer when you and March see someone enter the pool area. Jing Yuan’s shirtless, but it isn’t just his toned body that takes your breath away. The abstract dragon tattoo that runs from his shoulder to his chest looks like it's handpainted. He looks in your direction, and unbeknownst to you, March waves at him.

“Out for your morning swim?” she asks.

Jing Yuan slips on a black beach blazer and walks over. “What are you two doing up so early?”

“What do you think? None of us could sleep.”

Jing Yuan looks at you. “Why’s that? Is it a problem with the room?”

“The room’s fine,” you say, looking away, your face feeling slightly hot.

March glances from you to Jing Yuan and back to you. Then, she takes out her phone and sees the flurry of messages. “Ah… I’d better head back,” she says, standing. “Will you two be okay?”

“What makes you think we won't?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Oh, I know you’ll be fine, Boss,” March looks at you and chuckles. “Well, toodles!”

Jing Yuan puts a hand inside his pocket as he watches her run off. Then, he sits in the chair in front of you. “...Don’t tell me I did something to upset you, Corporal.”

You finally turn his way. “What makes you think that?”

“Seems like you didn’t want to look at me for a bit there.” You can’t help but look at his dragon tattoo. Then, his low voice comes again. “Curious?”

You look up and see him looking at you with interest. “A little.”

Jing Yuan smiles and looks down. “Well, why don’t I make you a deal?”

“...What kind of a deal?”

He nods at the pool. “Take a swim with me, and I’ll tell you about it.”

“I’m in my PJs if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t tell me you came to a resort without bringing a swimsuit.”

“I came here for work.” Jing Yuan continues looking at you until you cave. “...Okay, I did bring something.”

Jing Yuan chuckles. “You’re right, though. You’re here for work. But, if you need to relax, the pool’s always open… most of the time.”

You slightly smile. “Are you here every morning?”

“Every other day. Otherwise, I go for a run.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or call you crazy.”

“Why not both?”

“Because that’s being too nice,” you deadpan.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

"What gave it away?" You rub your eyes. "Sorry. I can really feel the fatigue kicking in.”

“Go back and get some sleep.”

You sigh and stand. “But, breakfast’s in an hour.” You don’t need to guess that you’re going to oversleep.

“...Text me when you’re awake.”

You look at Jing Yuan who’s also standing now. “Why?”

“Special service.”

“...Special service?” 

“If you want to go out and grab something to eat when you’re awake, that’s fine. Or…” Your eyes widen when he leans slightly closer and whispers in your ear, “...The owner can cook something for you in a private kitchen. No pressure.”

“Private… kitchen?” You narrow your eyes. “Trying to butter up the enemy, huh?”

“Enemy?” He chuckles. “If that’s how you want to put it. But”—he smiles mischievously—”you’re going have to do a little better to get secrets out of me.”

“Who said anything about secrets?”

“It’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” Then, he leans upright. “Good luck, Corporal.”

You watch Jing Yuan walk and dive with perfect form into the swimming pool. Now you’re not just tired. You’re also a little annoyed… but excited?

◆◆◆

By the time you’re awake, it’s a little past noon. 

You wash up and change into comfortable clothes before opening your phone and seeing a bunch of texts from your friends. You forgot you left your phone on silent and didn’t bother checking it. Some are from your mom, asking how everything’s been. So, you give her a call.

“Are you having too much fun that you forgot all about me?” she jokes.

“It’s why I’m calling you now.”

You get her up to speed with what’s been happening, including that you are friends with the owner of the B&B. Of course, you don’t go into details about the… flirting that’s been happening.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun.”

“More or less.”

“...Do you know that he’s been trying to reach me?”

“Who?”

As soon as your mom says your ex’s name, you frown. “...He really wants to get back in touch with you.”

“Mom, I thought I told you to block him.”

“I did! But one of your friends reached out and… He wants you to give him another chance."

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen." A small pause. "I’ll deal with this. I won’t let them harass you anymore.”

You sigh loudly when you end the call. This is not how you imagined to start the day. Jing Yuan suddenly flashes in your mind, and you slightly shake your head.

You’re thinking about the best course of action when you head outside and hear overlapping voices. The closer you get to the stone villa, the louder it gets. Then, you see a small crowd surrounding two tall men who look like clones of one another. Both have a handsome face. But one has green eyes and long black hair that reminds you of an elegant prince while the other has short black hair and dull blue eyes. A short distance away, Welt is watching with vague amusement. When he sees you, he waves.

“...What’s going on?” you ask, walking up.

“Ah… Let me apologize for the commotion on behalf of my friends,” Welt says.

“Your friends?” 

You look closer, and you swear you’ve seen them before. They’ve just finished taking a photo with two girls when the man with the long hair notices you. He walks past one woman and up to you.

“Is this the woman you and March were talking about?” he asks.

“My latest inspiration and the woman who stood up for March? Yes.”

When the man smiles at you, your heart almost skips a beat. “Hi.” He holds out a hand. 

You awkwardly take it. “Hi… You’re not going to give me a name?”

The man looks a little surprised as if you should know who he is.

“...Clearly, my brother’s head is still in the clouds.” The other one walks over and gives you a little smile. “My name’s Dan Heng. This is my brother, Dan Feng.”

Where have you heard those names before…?

“They’re athletes,” Welt says as if reading your mind. 

That’s when it hits you, and you gasp.

“Didn’t you compete in the Global Games?”

“That’s right,” Dan Feng answers. “Two-time fencing and kendo gold medalists.”

Your jaw almost drops. 

“Welt and March told us about you,” Dan Heng says. 

“We’ve been curious,” Dan Feng adds. Then, with a little smile, he says, “You’re prettier than they described.”

Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment. 

“...What are you doing?” Dan Heng deadpans.

“What? I’m being honest.”

Welt and Dan Heng roll their eyes just as you hear, “...You’re awake.”

You turn around and see Jing Yuan dressed in a fitted, V-neck, dark gray shirt and white pants. 

Dan Feng chuckles. “Don’t tell me you have a date with the owner.”

“That’s…” You remember your mom and your annoyingly persistent ex. Then, you're hit with an interesting but workable idea. Before Jing Yuan can say anything, you say, “...Could we talk?”

As the brothers watch you and Jing Yuan walk into the stone villa, Dan Heng side-eyes his brother. “Don’t be getting any weird ideas.”

“You hurt me, Brother. Why do you always think the worst of me?”

Dan Heng sighs. “Because you never prove me otherwise.” Then, he sees Welt looking in the direction you and Jing Yuan had walked off. “...Welt? Is something wrong?”

Welt turns back. “Oh, no. I… just had a thought.”

“Inspiration, perhaps?” Dan Feng asks.

“...Something like that.”

Pom greets you and Jing Yuan with a salute when you enter the lobby. Then, in a cheery voice, he takes the receptionist’s phone call.

“If you want privacy, we can talk on the patio,” Jing Yuan says.

Sure, why not? It’ll give you a chance to gather your thoughts. 

Jing Yuan leads you upstairs, and despite Pom’s professionalism on the phone, his eyes are following your every move. Jing Yuan opens a set of doors that leads to a rooftop patio that has a fireplace and some couches and chairs. 

“...I got a call from my mom today,” you say, sitting on the adjacent couch.

“Is everything okay?”

“...Apparently, my ex’s been bothering her.”

“...That’s not a good sign.”

“My friends have been texting me about unblocking him, too. And…” You sigh and look away. “...Getting a bit off topic there. But, just to get them off my back for now, could you…” Gosh, this sounded a lot better in your head.

“You want me to play the fake boyfriend?” 

“I mean… You don’t have to do anything. It’s not like they’re actually here, so—”

Jing Yuan leans forward and looks at you with a little smile. “That’s true, but I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

Your pulse quickens as he continues looking at you. “I’m also looking for other ways to get him off my back, but I'd appreciate the help.”

“If it escalates, you could file a police complaint.”

“...I hope it won’t get that far,” you mutter. You lean back. “We may have broken up, but… we were friends for years before we dated. Just kinda sucks that’s all gone too.”

“If you remained friends with him… do you think that friendship would continue to last?”

“...Hard to say.”

“Sometimes, we outgrow our friends, and ending things with them may not be as ugly as relationships but..."

"It still hurts... if not more," you finish. Then, you glance at him, thinking whether to ask him about his ex-wife when Jing Yuan’s phone goes off.

He reaches into his pocket and looks at the screen. Then, he looks at you apologetically. “I have a meeting.”

“Ah, no worries. Sorry for keeping you.”

“...Looks like my special service will have to come a little later,” he says, standing.

“You were serious about that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You stand and shrug. “I thought you were just saying it. Seems a little much.”

Then, he leans over and suddenly kisses your cheek. “Well, you’re not just a guest anymore, are you?” When you see him looking at you, your face feels warm. “...As I said, I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

This is just temporary. You’re here for work.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

Chapter 5

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @grimreapersscythe @nqctre

#jingyuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan

[ilovehimyourhonour]

nepo babies 002.5 my first sober kiss (written) . previous ! next !

rich! yang jeongin x rich! fem! reader . rich au , smau (written chapter) . mentions of being drunk , slightly suggestive , shirtless jeongin?

a/n so I think im. just going to post chapters of ‘nepo babies’ and ‘the art of coffee’ whenever get them done, but if im kinda running behind there will be ones posted on the scheduled dates. // not 100% sure on this one, but I say that about literally everyone of my pieces lol. // also I usually post .5 chapters along with a regular chapter but I thought this one a little too big in contents to post two. but 003 will be coming soon :)

taglist open !

“you’re drunk,” you whisper. jeongin remains silent, his long fingers slipping beneath the hem of your dress. “hey,” you hiss.

“im not that drunk,” he mutters—breath fanning your bare shoulder. “please,” his fingers drag against the skin of your thigh as he withdraws his hand from the shelter provided by the skirt of your dress.

“head towards the bathroom, i’ll be there in a minute.” he grunts and pulls himself from his spot next to you on the couch, casting you a glance over his shoulder.

you watch as he disappears behind a corner, casting another glance in your direction.

you wait a few minutes before pushing yourself off the couch, the group sat around you stares up at you with knowing eyes—little to your knowing, as you are too busy maneuvering yourself through their extended legs.

“where are you going?” minho smirks.

“ive gotta go to the bathroom,” you chuckle—rather awkwardly.

you mutter hellos and half-greet guest as you slip your way through the small crowd.

“jeongin?” you mutter. “jeongin?” your heels click softly against the floor as you venture a bit farther into the slim hall the bathrooms were located within. you reach the other end of the hall and release a sigh, the railing that circles around the ship catching your palms as you press your weight into it. the salty water sloshes beneath the boat as you tilt your head down, watching the soft waves tickle the side of the ship.

“took you long enough,” jeongin’s voice reaches your ears—and a second later you’re palms are pressed to his chest while his rest comfortably on your waist. “I thought you were standing me up,” he whispers against your lips.

“funny, I thought the same.”

“i’d never stand you up,” he confesses.

“never?”

he sighs shakily. “i’ve been dreaming of this for too long,” his forehead presses to yours, strands of his hair tickling your eyelids.

“what do we do? in these dreams of yours,” you hum, hands trailing down his chest, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt—just as he had done with your dress moments earlier.

“kiss,” he blushes.

“that’s it,” you grin, gliding your fingers over his covered stomach, tracing his abs softly.

“even in my dreams I want to respect your boundaries,” you giggle and squeeze your eyes shut—and jeongin feels himself falling harder, and the butterflies in his stomach multiply by tenfolds. “is me respecting you funny?”

you smile softly and shake your head. “what’s funny is that you aren’t kissing me yet.”

“i’m aloud?”

“are you always like this? bold in public, shy when you’re alone with a girl.”

“i’m only shy when i’m alone with you.”

you sigh softly, bringing your hands from beneath his shirt and cup his cheeks. “i’ve only had one glass of champagne and i’m starting to lose that buzz, so you should kiss me before I come to my senses, or before my dad finds us—i’m not sure which one would be worse.” he nods, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and then back up again. you sigh, again, and tug him forward—bringing your lips to his.

he’s slow and gentle, his hands on your waist are stiff and unmoving.

“I thought you said you dreamed of this?”

“I did. I do.”

“then act like it, jeongin. kiss me like in your dreams.”

“i’m aloud?” his eyebrows shoot upwards, almost as if he was surprised.

“stop asking that,” press your lips to his again, and this time he’s a bit more rough.

he roams his hands up your back, pressing you into him, and when you bring your arms to wrap around his neck and plant a hand in his hair—tugging softly—he lets out a groan. the sound vibrating against your mouth.

minutes later and the two of you have stumbled farther down the deck, mindlessly headed towards the opening in the rail—where the latter into the water sits.

the two of you part to catch your breath, and for once it last more than just a second. jeongin huffs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, his chest moves up and down against your own.

“jeongin,” you sigh as his mouth works against the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. “is this apart of your dreams too?” he nips at the skin, causing you to yelp and land a slap to the side of his head. making him chuckle. “I see you’ve gained your boldness again.” he sighs and withdraws his head, bringing himself to look you in the eyes.

“do you have any dreams?” he asks. you cock your head to the side, a small smile playing at your lips.

“would you be up for it?” your hands find the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. he allows you, he even helps you remove it from over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

“i’m up for anything you-” jeongin’s words are cut as the two of you get jostled by a sudden rock in the boat, the both of you stumble and you cry out as you lose your footing. your fingers dig into his shoulders as you begin to fall through the opening in the railing, where the latter had been placed. jeongin’s hands squeeze your waist as the two of you fall the short distance into the water.

with the music and the constant chatter, the splash of your fall falls on deaf ears.

the two of you rise to the surface, jeongin biting at his bottom lip. sure, he wanted to get alone with you, and he definitely wanted to make moves—but trying to drowned you was never ever the intention. you’re silent for a moment, and jeongin waits for your burst of anger.

but when a loud laugh erupts from you, he can’t hold back his own.

“i’m definitely completely sober now,” you giggle as your hands slash through the cool water surrounding you.

“i’m sorry,” he sighs. you shoot him a confused frown.

“why?” your body seems to glide closer to his own, your hands finding his shoulders. “this is the most fun i’ve had all night,” his eyelids flutter as your hands cup his cheeks, thumbs soothing over his cheekbones. “would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“but youre sober, awhile ago you told me to kiss you before-”

“is that a no?” your hands drop from his face, splashing softly in the water. his fingers circle your wrists, bring your palms back to his cheeks.

“I never said that,” you hum as you shift closer, your nose tapping against his.

“you’re my first sober kiss.”

you don’t let him question, bringing your lips to his too quickly. they slide awkwardly against each other, the wetness from the water still coating each of your lips.

@uraverageatiny @lolob @akanexw @violetvoo @rubberduckieyourtheone @haewonluvr @hello-2-u-from-me @jungwonismybias

© ilovehimyourhonour

#🥂 — nepo babies #📂 — ilovehimyourhonour #kpop imagines #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop idol x reader #yang jeongin smau #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin imagines #skz jeongin #jeongin #yang jeongin x y/n #stray kids yang jeongin #yang jeongin #i.n x y/n #i.n smau #i.n scenarios #i.n x reader #stray kids i.n #i.n imagine #kpop stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids imagines #stray kids jeongin #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz smau #jeongin smau #skz fanfic #skz x reader

[phoenixyfriend]

HECK my brain has provided a Silly AU

Okay, explanation: Saw a promo photo for AotC. Brain connected some dots. Rotated. Connected other dots. Now I have a weird net.

Background before moving forward: For most modern AUs, the pattern I follow for the disaster lineage main line is:

Feemor and Xanatos were Qui-Gon's mentees (college stuff), not his kids. One ended well. The other did not.

Obi-Wan was the result of a Bad Decision (likely alcohol, but could be a longer relationship). The bio mom is not in the picture, but Qui-Gon's doing his best with this kid.

First marriage was when Obi-Wan was still a toddler, to Tahl. Tahl dies when Obi-Wan is about 15/16. Qui-Gon deals poorly. This involves some ill-advised one-night stands.

About ten years later, one of said one-night stands calls him up with "I meant to be a single mother and not involve you, because all I had was the business card you left, but I've been having some health troubles and I need to know that Anakin has somewhere to go if something happens to me." Qui-Gon ends up with another kid. Obi-Wan and Anakin are half-brothers.

Okay now for the actual AU.

We give Anakin a reason to be transferred mostly to Qui-Gon. Maybe Shmi's health took a turn for the worse, maybe she died, maybe they decided Anakin would have better schooling if he was living with Qui-Gon, whatever. Point is mostly that Anakin is living with Qui-Gon (the dad he likes but only sort-of knows) and Obi-Wan (the half-brother he adores but doesn't see much of because Obi-Wan is in grad school).

And then Qui-Gon remarries.

To Mace.

And the entire point of all this is that I want Anakin's stepdad on this side to be Mace Windu and imagine the Various Nonsenses that may come about.

They have a very big house because Qui-Gon is Dooku's firstborn and is inheriting the Countship.

(Rael can't inherit because he's the only heir to a different title and he can't hold both at the same time.)

Anakin reading books about Evil Stepmothers and trying to figure out if he should be watching Mace for Important Signs.

Does it count if it's a stepdad? Are the books an accurate representation of the proper signs to watch out for?

My favorite QuiMace dynamic is Qui-Gon deliberately, constantly toeing the line of irritation to Mace. And Mace is just incredibly flat-faced about it at all times. People think they're just. Coworkers at best. And then Qui-Gon manages something extra ridiculous and earns himself a smile and a peck on the cheek and everyone's just like WAIT. WHAT. It's like. Qui-Gon embodies this constant, slightly smug, needling grin where he knows exactly how far he can push, and Mace is charmed by this against his better judgement.

Mace has to drive Anakin to school sometimes and there's just this. Kid. In the passenger seat. Staring at him. The only request he ever gets from the kid is to go Fast. It happens once. He says no. Anakin doesn't ask again, just. Stares at him.

Mace knows the kid isn't possessed but he sure as hell feels like it sometimes; he wants to endear himself to his stepkid, but said stepkids spends half his time staring suspiciously at him from around corners for no reason.

I am envisioning this all taking place in like. This egregiously old and fancy mansion in the Scottish Highlands or something. All those painfully upper crust carved dark wood stair rails and whatnot. The tropey kind.

Qui-Gon decides Mace and Ani should try to Bonding Exercise. Sets them up in an escape room. Mace turns to read the instructions and turns around to find Anakin trying to unscrew the door from the wall because That's One Way To Win, Right? It's Not Against The Rules. He's not trying to escape for anxiety reasons or anything, this is just the fastest way to Win, and boy does Anakin love winning.

Qui-Gon goes off to a botany conference so the house is just Mace and Anakin (and staff, but half the building is a living museum because Qui-Gon doesn't like Rich Life, so that's not actually anything that involves them), and it's. The most awkward thing.

Obi-Wan and Mace get along well. Obi-Wan and Depa (Mace's adopted daughter) get along great. It's just Anakin being so gosh darn weird.

The acceptance phase with this child involves climbing. Anakin is climbing his stepdad to reach Things Up High before he actually talks to him like a Fellow Human Being.

Anakin climbs Qui-Gon to reach high things all the time so Mace figures it's a good sign. It's just also annoying because now he has to change his shirt since there's a child-sized footprint on it.

(Ironically, Anakin adores Depa. She can cook better than anyone else in this family, except Mom and that Dooku guy that's apparently Grandpa)

(Granted I can also very easily imagine this as not-manor life, but like. random suburb.)

@epicmusic42 (Wren) pointed out:

The manor is important bc it gives ambiance to Anakin's suspicion. Could also have a b-plot where depa and obi are investigating what they think might be a murder? They're not sure and they're not letting anakin join bc they're terrified they'll be right and find a dead body komari stashed in the walls 20 years ago

Mace, rubbing his temples: She's alive and living on Cypress. We can video call her.

Obi-Wan and Mace get along well. Obi-Wan and Depa get along great. It's just Anakin being so gosh darn weird.

The acceptance phase with this child involves climbing. Anakin is climbing his stepdad to reach Things Up High before he actually talks to him like a Fellow Human Being.

Anakin climbs Qui-Gon to reach high things all the time so Mace figures it's a good sign. It's just also annoying because now he has to change his shirt since there's a child-sized footprint on it.

(Ironically, Anakin adores Depa. She can cook better than anyone else in this family, except Mom and that Dooku guy that's apparently Grandpa)

The idea of Depa and Obi-Wan furiously whispering about Weird Ghost Things in a corner while Anakin is pretending to be otherwise occupied is killing me.

He's got on noise cancelling headphones. They are not on. He is listening very intently to his Grown Up Siblings.

He's going to crawl into the vents and find the ghost Mace finds him half-way inside a vent he removed himself and just. Pulls him out. What the fuck fudge, kid?

Wren:

Mace: [considers his daughter. Considers everything he knows Obi-wan. Considers that this is Qui-Gon’s kid] Mace, resigned: ...does this have anything to do with depa and Obi-wan’s idea that there's a ghost? Anakin: ...maybe

I need Anakin to have a nightmare and he tries to find Qui-Gon but Mace is already awake and decides to Make Some Hot Chocolate.

Groundskeeper Plo and his granddaughter Ahsoka.

Shaak is Plo's daughter-in-law and Ahsoka's mom. She spends most of her time working in the neonatal ward of the nearest hospital, so she leaves Ahsoka with Plo a lot.

This toddler has decided Anakin is her favorite person EVER.

Wren:

plo might have planted some odd evidence to help Mace bond w anakin over a mystery. Whether that's still what depa and obi are investigating tho...

Plo has a pilot's license and Anakin spends so much time asking him about it

Anakin keeps trying to get into the antique swords Mace would tear his hair out if he had any

Wren:

Mace: help? Qui? Qui: Ani, the same rule applies to you as it did to the rest of our family. You have to beat father in a duel before you can touch his collection Whether or not it works depends entirely on whether it's Dooku's swords Anakin is trying to access Mace is concerned by this is until Qui-Gon points out that his father did go to the Olympics. Several times in fact.

Anakin's upset because he can't beat Dooku in a duel when Dooku's on some wine tour in Italy and won't be coming back until all the court cases are over.

There's a fic (by @willowcrowned) where Dooku is Ventress's fencing coach to get her to the Olympics and I like that option (She's going in the will and everyone knows it.)

Glorious! Could drive the chaos up even more by interrupting Mace's progress w anakin, w dooku coming home w ventress in tow, actually. The only explanation he'll give is that she's staying and to treat her like family. Everyone is Concerned

You know those comics where Dick Grayson is like. Swinging on the chandelier and scaring the shit out of Bruce and Alfred? That's Anakin.

Qui-Gon is relatively responsible and tells Anakin that he can sign up for a gymnastics class if he'd like, but he's not swinging from the chandelier without safety equipment. That's How Your Uncle Rael Broke His Leg, You Know. Unfortunately, he's still too chill about it for Mace's blood pressure.

Also, I decided that if I ever do anything with this, it's QuinObi.

I think Mace and Tholme would make for very saltmate in-laws (and hey, we could do the Plo thing!), but also Quinlan would probably enjoy winding up his future step-father-in-law just as much as Qui-Gon does.

#QuiMace #I guess? IDK the ship name #Mace Windu #Qui Gon Jinn #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Depa Billaba #Count Dooku #Plo Koon #Shaak Ti #Ahsoka Tano #Asajj Ventress #Rael Averross #Shmi Skywalker #Phoenix Talks #modern au #ghost hunter au #I guess? #Quinlan Vos #QuinObi #Tholme

[cupidjyu]

when we sway, i go weak

hyunjae x reader

genre: hyunjae teaches you how to dance!!!!! spy au, slow dancing, this takes place in the olden times with those fancy ball dance parties, friends to lovers, flirting, first kiss, few suggestive jokes because that's my immature humor, tension, i purposely made them talk fancier because i think it’s fun to write LOL, prince hyunjae??? notes: i got this idea from a movie i watched (enola holmes 2) that scene got me giggling like omg you guys should totally search up the dance scene hahahaha word count: 2.5k

Your mission was simply impossible.

“Dance with a man, they said?” You scoffed, leaning over the railing as you peered over the dance floor below you. You could see a few couples, dressed in their most fancy and expensive clothing, gracefully weaving in and out as if they were professionals. “Dance with a man to get the information that I need? This is… absurd.”

As a spy, you often needed to disguise in order to get what you wanted. You were used to it anyway. You’ve done tons of them and the roles you had to act out were fairly easy. A servant? All you had to do was listen to what the others needed. An elderly person? Just walk really slowly.

But to act like a rich, well-dressed magnate is where you crossed the line. Acting elegant and proper wasn’t your forte and you didn’t quite enjoy it. At all. But, you had a target and the only way to talk to him was by… asking him for a dance.

“Ridiculous,” You mumbled to yourself, collapsing against the railing.

A shuffle of footsteps next to you.

“What is ridiculous?”

You raised an eyebrow and turned. That was when you came face-to-face with Hyunjae. Hyunjae, Jaehyun, he went by many formal names.

He himself was actually a rich, well-dressed magnate.

“You.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Me?” His shoulders raised and his eyes widened.

“Yes, you!”

“Okay, so I’m ridiculous.” He goofily smiled. You groaned in frustration. Hyunjae, an affluent person, a man who knew much about business and money, was frankly a doofus. You had worked with him a few times and you had found that he was much, much different from how he looked. Despite his tall build, broad shoulders, and objectively… handsome face, he was a complete fool. And he accepted that. Because he was a fool.

He liked to joke and he would always point out when your lips curled up into a smile. He also liked to hug. A lot. Even when you insisted that he didn’t need to, he would only hug tighter.

Putting it simply, Hyunjae is a friend. A slow, slightly dense, friend who you could rely on. No matter how many times you complained about him, you always found him right by your side. 

“I only worry for you.” 

Hyunjae had once replied this when you asked him why he continued to help you, even during the more hazardous tasks. He couldn’t even fight.

He could probably dance though, right? You sucked up all of your dignity and you reached forward, grabbing his firm arm in yours.

“I need you for something,” You stated, leading him off into a room, any room that would be empty.

“Oh, you need me?” He purred with a cheeky smile. You clicked your tongue and ignored his words.

Finally, you pushed open a door and it seemed to be a library. Bookshelves covered the walls and the floors were empty except for a single desk with ancient-looking books stacked on top. Hurriedly, you closed the door and you pressed him up against it, leaning forward. You were so close that you could feel his breathing against your lips.

“Are we about to kiss, sweetheart?” He smiled.

You jabbed him in the stomach with the blunt side of the pocket knife that you tend to carry around in case someone attempted to stab—no pun intended—you in the back. He hissed in response.

“That hurt,” He grumbled.

“I hope it did.” You scowled. “And no, I don’t want a kiss. Especially from you. I need to learn how to dance.”

“For what exactly?” 

You stuttered, “…nothing.”

“Another one of your missions isn’t it?” He tucked a stray strand of hair away from your face. You swallowed, your mouth going dry.

“Maybe,” You shakily sighed. With his incredibly annoying personality, for some weird reason, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous around him. 

It’s definitely because of his obnoxiously charming face.

“You won’t get hurt from this will you?” He gazed at you worriedly.

You recalled the time when you had gotten injured and Hyunjae had brought you into his lap so that he could tend to the cuts. You never mentioned how your heartbeat had stuttered that day.

“I cannot guarantee you anything.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You looked at him expectantly.

“I’ll teach you how to dance, but not because I want to help you complete your dangerous mission.” You could see the way his smile lilted up mischievously.

“Then what for, Jaehyun?” Hyunjae, Jaehyun. the formal names never mattered to you. In fact, he often smiled dearly when you used his real name.

“Well…” He started with a glint in his eyes. “Simply because I would quite enjoy this opportunity to hold your waist.” And then his hand rested there. His warmth almost pierced your body, making you inhale sharply.

“What are you—“

“I’m teaching you, am I not?” He spoke softly. “First step is to get into position. My hand on your waist.” His thumb stroked your side softly, making you squirm. He gently led you into the center of the room, his hand never leaving its position. 

“That’s it?” You blurted out.

“Of course not,” He laughed. His other hand took yours and he brought it up to his shoulder. “Your left hand stays here, on my shoulder. And the other…” He intertwined your fingers with his, holding firmly. You suppressed the shaky sigh that threatened to leave your parched throat.

Hyunjae easily noticed your silence and he bent closer to study your face.

“Everything alright there, sweetheart?” 

Your hand, still resting on his shoulder, slapped it briefly.

“Refrain from calling me sweetheart, sir.” You whispered. “I’m simply a spy for a good cause.”

“Spy or not, you’re still a sweetheart,” He replied.

You couldn’t help yourself from blushing slightly. Immediately you were conscious of him noticing and so you began to ramble. “You’re obnoxious. If we weren’t friends, I would be taking my knife and—”

“And…” He grinned, cutting you off. “We should start dancing.”

“Yes.” Your eyes widened. “Right, that was what we were doing.”

Hyunjae smirked. “Don’t get too distracted.”

“You underestimate me. I’m a very focused person.”

“It doesn’t seem like that around me.” He hummed.

You grew quiet at that, knowing very well that he was correct.

“I will take the lead. If I step forward,” He proceeded to do so. “You step backward.”

You held your breath. unable to ignore his sweet cologne anymore. 

“I step to the side, then you do the same,” He muttered. 

His hand was warm too, holding you securely.

He looked up briefly and he smiled back down at you. You could only stare, doe-eyed.

“It looks like the music has started.” He grinned. “My instructions might not help. Sometimes you just need to follow the rhythm. It is, what really should lead us.”

“Poetic,” You remarked, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat fastened at the way he gazed at you so tenderly.

“Focus.” He raised an eyebrow with a small smile. With a shaky breath, you began to dance. Stepping forward, right, backwards, and left. His eye contact was almost luring you in, shifting your body impossibly close, right up to his chest. 

“This is easy,” You breathed out.

“You did step on my foot three times,” He pointed out.

“I’m still learning,” You snapped.

“I can say that you’re doing really well.” Hyunjae smiled softly.

“Am I really?” You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Certainly. We can try the twirl now.”

“The what?”

But he didn’t respond. Instead, he led your hand up and over your head, forcing you to twirl. Then, he brought you right back to his chest.

“Like this.” He gazed down at you, his eyes lingering on your lips for a brief second.

“A warning next time would be pleasant.”

“Simply follow the rhythm.”

Your breath hitched when just at that moment, the music had picked up. And so, your steps became faster, that one twirl move coming more frequently. The music was soft really, since it was in the background, playing in the actual ballroom and not in a mere library. Your footsteps and his breathing was much more evident.

After another twirl, you rested your forehead against his chest, taking in a deep breath.

“This is nervewracking,” You spoke with honesty, still following his steps. But there was something else distracting you from the calming music. His pounding heartbeat.

“Is it me who makes you nervous? Or the dancing?” He said, his voice vibrating against his chest.

“I cannot guarantee you an answer to that,” You whispered.

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

You abruptly pulled back, only to meet his knowing smile. “Oh, shut up.”

Hyunjae soon introduced another move. One where you both pull away, drifting off to opposite directions with only his hand grasping yours, and then you gravitate back to the same position, his other hand returning to rest at your waist.

“You look annoyingly good in that suit, you know,” You muttered. And again, he pulled away so you at least had a chance to hide your burning face. But you heard his laugh as he dragged you right back against his body,

“If I’m not mistaken,” He breathed out, searching your face with affection. “You just called me handsome.”

You shut your eyes in embarrassment. “And what about it?”

“Well you…” He brought your intertwined hands up to his chest, right where his heart was. “You have quite the effect on me.” You inhaled sharply when you realized just how fast it was beating. It was beating so fast, that it felt almost like it was on fire.

A moment of silence. The two of you had never once stopped dancing, constantly stepping side to side. But neither of you were focused on the music anymore, instead more on gazing into each other’s eyes, trying to find a non-verbal answer behind them.

Finally, you spoke quietly, breathlessly. “Why?”

Hyunjae stilled for a second, causing you to almost trip on his feet.

“Why is my heart beating so fast?” He chuckled. “I’d figure that as a spy, with your wits, you might have an idea.”

“No, I–” You bit your lip. “I know about that. I’m asking… why do you feel this way?”

He blinked and he gave you a tender smile, before twirling you around again. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shook your head, frowning. “You don’t understand.” You stumbled against his chest. “I am a spy, Jaehyun. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“You are not just a spy,” The man whispered. “You are more than that. Should that stop me from falling in love with you, is out of the question. You are… beautiful and you make me smile in so many ways possible. There’s so much more to you that I see, and I would be honored to learn more.”

Your eyes fell down to where his hand had slightly tightened at your waist, your cheeks flaming red.

“Focus.” His voice was low. You looked back up. 

“If you are really so certain about your feelings for me, Hyunjae,” You uttered. “Let us continue to dance.”

“What will that resolve, sweetheart?” Another twirl, another step forward and right.

“You must trust me.”

His gaze fell and he nodded. The two of you tuned back into the music. It was different now, you had realized. Slower and more… romantic. Your hand was still resting on his shoulder and his hand was still on your waist. Your other hand continued to be encased in his.

At the change of note, he twirled you around. You began to lose your breath and it wasn’t because of physical exertion. It was something beating in your chest, so strong that you could barely focus anymore. Hyunjae seemed to be the same, his grip on your hand and waist tightening, his eyes searching you with so much endearment that it left you even more breathless.

Another step. Forward, right, backwards, and left. 

Another twirl. 

And with a deep breath, as you were being pulled back, instead of returning to position, you leaned up and pressed your lips against him. Alarms were going off in your brain but you simply ignored them, shutting your eyes and falling into his arms.

Hyunjae didn’t even hesitate to kiss you back, his lips parting and his head tilting. He gave a satisfied hum as both of his hands fell to your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands wrapped around his neck, deepening it in which he happily responded. 

Your lips moved in unison and you could feel his pulse right against you, beating erratically. Just like your own. 

You pulled away first, resting your forehead against his, giving him a shy smile.

“How would you rate my performance today?” You whispered. 

Hyunjae smiled widely and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Outstanding. We shall do this another time… when you aren’t busy.”

You widened your eyes, pulling away abruptly. “My mission.”

“You must go,” He spoke, urging you on. But his hand on your hip said otherwise. You gulped. He wanted you to stay for the rest of the night. You could see the plea in his eyes.

“I must go, yes,” You agreed, nodding. “But, I assure you I will return. You can hold me and… kiss me, all you want.”

Hyunjae smiled, bring his hand up to your cheek and caressing slowly. “Excited?”

“What, for my mission or for your affections?” You raised an eyebrow.

“My affections.”

“Indeed, that I am.” You shied away from his touch, your ears burning. “But do not get so full of yourself, Jaehyun. I have many things to do tonight.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” A corner of his lips raised. “Me being one of those things.”

You gulped and pushed him away. “Desist. You are to be wealthy and unaware. Not lewd.” You then turned on your heel, walking to the door to return to the ballroom. But, you turned back longingly. Oh, how you wanted to just be with him.

“I cannot believe that you’re going to dance with another man right after kissing me.” He shook his head playfully.

“I have a task to complete.” And then you smiled to yourself. “I never took you as the jealous type, Hyunjae.”

“I have a right.” He frowned in response. “I can’t afford to lose someone so pretty, can I?”

You rolled your eyes fondly before opening the door, the bustling of the crowd and the instrumentals of the music interrupting the previous silence. 

“You are insufferable, Jaehyun.”

He once again smiled at your use of his real name.

“I can assure that you love my affections. That in which you will be experiencing more later on tonight.” He winked and tilted his head. 

You winced and stepped through the entrance. “I will see you later. And… thank you for teaching me how to dance.”

#deoboyznet #drabbles 💞 #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader

[thewayuarent]

The main conflict of Sand and Ray

In my previous post about SandRay dynamic I was talking about Ray’s addiction and how it could influence their relationship. But this conflict is based on external factors - Ray's addiction, as the Sand’s savior syndrome are their important characteristics, but not so much the basis of their personalities as a consequence.

Third episode gave me an understanding of some key traits of their characters, which are the basis of their main, internal conflict. What I mean by that is they’ll have a lot of fights caused by some reason or another (addiction - possibly, Mew thing - definitely yes, financial status - maybe, whatever else I don’t know probably everything, this show is a mess) but all these fights are going to happen because they have completely different view on life.

Ray is living in the moment where tomorrow may never happen. In ep1 Sand make that comment

and personally, I’m not sure of Ray knows himself. He doesn’t think ahead. Moreover, he is prone to avoidance - his drinking in a way helps him not to think about what’s happening in his life. He actively seeks ways to not thinking.

So he finds Sand. I mean, of course he likes Sand, but what’s more important, he can turn all of his time and energy on that guy he knows for a couple of weeks or something. One night together and Ray immediately imprints on him like a baby duck? Sure, why not. They both agreed that will be one time thing? But it was good, they both want more, complexities what,

Sand, on the other hand, is basically opposite. He always thinks ahead. He gives up to the moments in ep 2, but he’s concerned about it immediately. He analyzes everything - Ray’s behavior and his problematic tendencies, his own reaction, their relationship - and I can guess comes to some disappointing conclusions.

He knows Ray is a problem. He knows relationship with Ray will be a problem. I find it very interesting to compare these two lines:

Ray is almost in self-defense mode he’s basically like “Oh no I gave mixed signals so this guy may think I’m into him but I’m so obviously not” (yes you are)

Where Sand is saying “I know you are problematic and I don’t need that in my life” (with those eyes yep I believe you)

So he resists. He reminds them both about their status as friends in (almost)every dialogue they have in this episode.

Except for this one. My boy, you are flirting hard, is there something with the air or what?

So he knows things can go off the rails very easy very fast. But he gives in to Ray - not once, but twice. Because while he can understand what’s bad for him, he’s still prone to it. Letting everything go and living in a moment is very attractive idea and I can get Sand easily here.

The problem is, he just can’t afford it. Sand is in a constant survival mode. He have several jobs, he does illegal stuff for money and he has no option but to think through every aspect of his life. He can’t just control some parts of it and let go on others, he needs clear vision of his future.

So yes, the financial aspect plays a big part in who they are. Ray is rich rich and therefore he has no need to think about tomorrow. He is safe. He doesn’t need to think about job, or count expenses, or worry about future. Sand does.

Offtop but I really love the little details about their financial statuses. Sand never eats in university cause money. Ray can start a hotel business after one phone call. And my favorite is the cigarette thing. As a smoker I know NOTHING in the world makes me put on a whole cigarette. Not even a hot guy. Apocalypse can wait while I finish it. So yeah this shot was my moment of realization that Ray is very rich I’m not joking.

So what do I think gonna happen next? Ray will continue to push through, Sand will continue to give up (resisting in a process and tho giving quite mixed signals). Eventually they’ll come to a moment when Ray’s inability to think ahead will hurt Sand. And Sand will probably hurt Ray back. And the rest is history (I honestly don’t know what’ll happen this show is a mess).

And of course their relationship is not only about conflict, I find them very depressing but still very promising. There are a lot of great interactions going here but that’s probably a theme for another post.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #ofts meta #sandray #raysand #firstkhao #firstkhaotung #these two is fascinating #also kind of story of my life #and I’m projecting HARD

[caker-baker]

Sign

They didn’t actually need to look to see who it was, nor did they need to move from their leaned position against the railing. “Do me a favor and fuck off for a minute.”

“Now, now, Hero. That’s no way to treat an honored guest.”

“Fuck you. We both know that identity isn’t yours.” The hero ran a hand over their tired face. “I don’t care, whatever angle you have tonight, but if you kill someone–”

“That would be a spectacle. You should have already guessed that tonight is about espionage, considering the stolen identity and all.” The villain rested their hands on the railing next to the hero, but did not fully relax.

“Fantastic.” The hero’s voice fell flat. “Go back inside, then.”

Despite themself, the villain’s eyes wandered over the hero’s slouched form.

Even in their current crumpled and defeated mannerism, the hero was a sight to behold.

Nothing but the finest of clothes these days, a hair and makeup team had undoubtedly fussed over the hero for hours to get the current superstar affect, and of course, those fine clothes highlighted those hard earned muscles, but funnily enough, the scars seemed to have been hidden.

“You look miserable.”

The hero took a sharp breath in. “You don’t get to say that.”

“I told you what it would be if you signed, if you gave yourself to the government, say the word and I’ll fix it.”

The villain nearly jumped when the hero’s head swiveled towards them, expression close to feral.

“Fix what?” They spat. “I never have to worry about another bill in my life, medicine, housing, food, they do it all, Villain.” The hero turned away. “And all I have to do is dress up sometimes? Pose for a picture so they can put my face on a lunchbox?”

“You’re a product, Hero. They wave you around to show off their new attack dog.”

“I am not–!” They slammed their fist on the railing. It cracked, startling the hero, who stumbled back a few steps.

The villain reached out a hand, only to retract it when the hero pulled away.

“Whatever. It’s an equal exchange.”

The villain’s typically wide and watchful eyes softened. “Why didn’t you take my offer?”

Huffing, the hero turned, straightening out their form as they prepared to go back inside. “Go to hell.”

The villain reached out, gripping the hero’s arm, determined not to let them pull away this time.

“You used to be happy! You used to take pride in doing good!”

“I also used to be hungry and on the verge of homelessness. Let go.”

“I would have helped you. Why didn’t you let me help you?”

The hero ripped away their arm, turning and coming face to face with the villain, a mere inch apart.

“You don’t know what it’s like to owe someone.” The hero stepped forward, the villain stepped back. “All of you rich assholes are the same. If you had helped me, me, your enemy, it would have meant something else entirely. I can’t do that.”

Another step, another, and another.

“I never would have held it above you, Hero.” The villain had to keep walking backwards until they bumped into the railing. “I’m not like that–”

“You are! You’re an awful person. Do you think that I believe you’d make an exception for me? And why? Just because you enjoy villainy? Because you find all this entertaining?”

The hero’s eyes watered. “For them, I take pictures, I sign autographs, I wear the brand sponsored clothes and go to stupid galas, and yeah, sometimes I’m just there to look scary, but you know what I’m not doing? Giving myself away in a sense that I could never regain. What would it be for you?”

The villain opened their mouth, and closed it again.

What would it be for them? They didn’t like to stop and think about these unspoken feelings, the feelings that drove them in an unfamiliar and warm way, feelings that made them go on espionage missions that weren’t actually important.

What were they hoping to gain by helping the hero? Praise? Gratitude? Admiration?

Love?

As if reading the villain’s mind, the hero spoke.

“What would it be for you? Because for all the money in the world, you can’t buy that.” The hero scoffed, backing away. “You know, they really try to play up the strong but dumb image, makes it easier for sponsors to buy into, but I’m not an idiot.”

“Of course you’re not.”

Suddenly, the hero’s eyes turned upwards, looking, looking, looking.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any cameras up here.” The hero’s shoulders dropped a little. “If someone found out I damaged the railing, they’d probably…”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “They’d probably…?”

“It doesn’t matter.” They held their chin high. “I’m going inside. Have your fun tonight, but any deaths and I will fly your sorry ass straight into the sun.”

“Naturally.” The villain smiled gently, although they were positive that if the hero could somehow survive in space, they would, in fact, fly the villain’s sorry ass into the sun.

But the hero didn’t respond, didn’t give any notice to the villain’s existence as they slipped through the door, a full photo-op ready picture of grace.

The villain let out a shuttering breath once the door closed again, heart hammering in their chest.

No, no, no time for that. The villain couldn’t let this new feeling distract them, there were things to be done, olive branches to be offered, and signatures to be burned.

#villain #hero x villain #hero #heroine #snippet #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villainess #writing #heroes #here’s my impression of the mosquito that kept me awake because it wouldn’t leave me alone but consequently I wrote this #ok here’s what it sounded like #eeeeeeEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee #now imagine that really high pitched but smaller #anyways #there’s an aching there’s an aching some ancient #I do not feel female rage in the way that should be there #because it’s over now get over it move on move on move on #and I have like they advised #but I wish the women of my family could pass down more than quiet survival because I want to be angry #I want to burn and rage and revenge and avenge everything and everyone #generationally it is not my time #I will leave it to my daughters daughter #and maybe that is what my mother and grandmothers hope for

[br1ghtestlight]

getting war flashbacks to the bobs burgers fanfic where louise is doing math homework in the restaurant when nobody else is around and then bob has a heart attack </3 that shit was TRAUMATIZING

love linda shouting four whenever there's a math problem or anything related to numbers. best recurring joke. FOUR!!!!

you can do it gene :D also im so bad at math I 100% would not be able to help either. dumbass rep family

bob trying to help gene with his homework is cute. even if he is Not very good at it. he wants to be an involved dad :(

gene im not gonna lie that math question has gotta be fucking with you. rhat is not a real question. i could NEVER do that not if i was given 100 hours that shit is fake

see this is where when I was in math class i would just write a random number and move on bcuz im never gonna figure it out anyway im not gonna waste time. so that's my advice gene. just Give Up

he says "maybe your mom or tina could get you started" because they're older but I genuinely think louise has a better chance of helping bcuz she is so smart. if she'd WANT to help is another question entirely

because I'm stuck in a safe 😐

AND THEN HE BLINDFOLDED ME ON THE WAY HERE??? HE BLINDFOLDED YOU??????

teddy I think his guy is gonna murder you im gonna be so real right now

unfortunately im kinda following teddy's logic now like. it isnt like fischoeder isn't doing this type of shit everyday just for fun. rich guys are just like that BUT getting their money is nice

"gene was doing homework?? that's new"

WE'RE NOT ALL ECONOMICALLY COMFORTABLE LIKE YOU ARE

"Why did you tell me the whole long story about the sandwich in the drawer if you're running out of battery LOCKED IN A SAFE??" "Context!!!!"

also bob and teddy have such great comedic chemistry lmao they bounce off each other so naturally

louise isn't lying she Does have a certain set of skills 😭 if anyone could find him it WOULD be her the lockpicking genius nine year old supervillain

miss you. see you soon. gotta go!!

has he gotten a new cellphone since that MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND YOUR PHONE IS AT 23% argument or is it that same shitty 2008 blackberry phone that dies almost immediately lmfao

bob is a real one for doing this bullshit for teddy he did NOT have to. they're ride or die fr

I'm not entirely unconvinced that gerald isnt a serial killer but thats okay <3 men can have hobbies

also I'm choosing to believe this gerald is the same one from the taxes/weed cookie episode even though it ABSOLUTELY is not bcuz i think that would be funny. by day he's a regular tax agent by night he is a creepy rich kidnapper who pulls mind games on all his handymen

OH I FORGOT THE SUBPLOT FOR THIS EPISODE IS ABOUT SPORTS PEOPLE why did they do the whole thing with gene's homework then.... are they connected. what is the gameplan

WE PICK A NEW LOVER FOR MOM

i love how bob is apparently the only thing keeping his family from going completely off the fucking rails like. he's the only thing standing between his family and their restaurant burning down with everyone inside fr

your dad never loved that dream :/ because he's a hater :/ AND SO JEALOUS :/

you're not gonna break the world record. another hater. STOP THAT

I might be having a panic attack 💔 I CANT TELL BECAUSE IVE NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE OR IM ALWAYS HAVING ONE soo real teddy

WE LOST HIM 😭😭💔

aww I love them all wearing their lil aprons <3 (crappy photo of my tablet bcuz the app im using to watch this episode doesn't allow screenshots)

SAY SOMETHING SMART LIKE UHH HOW WOULD YOU FLIP A GIANT BURGER. OH GOD THEY DIDNT MAKE THE GIANT BURGER DID THEY. WHO WOULD EVEN AGREE TO EAT THAT. AN OVER FOURTY CO-ED BASKETBALL TEAM. REALLY 😯

sorry this episode has so many good ooc quotes FJDMDJSKSKKM

gene STOP calling him father

bob is being like a whole ass detective meanwhile linda and the kids are currently making The Worst Decisions Ever

h jon benjiman is doing such a good job voicing bob in this episode idk it has so much personality and sounds natural. or it's always like this and im just now appreciating it but either way A+ work

cute bob and teddy moment ❤️❤️

(ignore the awful camera quality. nothing I can do there) also love the fact that teddy can easily lift up and manhandle bob. Good to know

there's so much going on w/ this gerald guy I dont even know WHERE to begin. what a guy. wow

this is so cute and sweet im so happy!!! YOU DOUBLE FAKE WALLED HIM :D YOU SMART SMARTIE. YOURE A GENIUS BOB

"I knew I asked the right person to come help me. Yeah. Mort wouldn't answer."

"What? You called Mort first?"

"No..."

HE ASKED MORT???? LMFAO big win for tedmort shippers. I fucking guess

MORT NEVER DOUBLE FAKE WALLED ANYONE why is bob like genuinely jealous of mort and teddy right now 😭 chill out man you've got a wife at home

"let's just say it's twelve" FINALLY bob follows my very smart advice when it comes to math homework smh

ALSO THIS IS TECHNICALLY THE FIRST TIME WE'VE SEEN THEM EATING BOBS BURGERS FOR DINNER OR IN GENERAL!!! I mean it's a giant hamburger loaf but it technically was served at bob's burgers so it counts

GIANT FRENCH FRIES

aww this episode was so fun and cute!! I love the more adventure-y type episodes where they explore a new location so this episode was great and very stressful lmao. also very funny. I love bob and teddy's dynamic/back and forth throughout the episode and the weird mort mention at the end felt like they were soft launching his and teddy's relationship even though I KNOW they aren't actually. mort could replace kathleen if we believe. very solid 8/10 episode :)

#txt #bob's burgers #episode review #bb spoilers

[wrens-versus-the-world]

Intertwined With the Inhuman

Hehe :D Heres the first chapter!

Cross posted on wattpad under Dontjudgemepels

chapter one: and so it begins

(next chapter: 2)

as I looked at the letter for the fifth time today, I still couldn't believe it.

I, Y/n L/n, got a free ticket to japan and a free ticket back as well. I am so happy that I kept entering into those raffles!

I packed up my bags and prepared every thing that I may need while in japan. Another thing that I'm happy about is that, since I kept entering into the raffles I have quite a lot of yen, as well as a free hotel room and some free- non- expiring tickets to various events, which makes my life as a college student extremely easy, and my summer all the more fun!

I texted my group chat:

three best friends in a room:

depression (jerry), Cat lover(you), and smart one (cherry (cher for short))

Cat lover:

I'm so excited, but I'm also sad, since I won't see y'all and I cant afford to pay for the out of county wifi. D:

Smart one:

Well, that part sucks but japan is a safe country, and plus It'll be a good way to relax after the school year. those finals were rough

Depression:

thats for sure, those finals fucked me up, I didn't sleep for four days to study and then right after them I slept for two and a half days straight!

Smart one:

...

Jerry that's not safe.

anyways...

Y/n take lots of pictures, get us souvenirs and have fun! that's the best thing you can do okay! And if you ever feel unsafe just call the cops on a public phone, okay?

Cat lover:

see this is why you're my smart friend, And I'll try to keep that in mind... Anyways, I have a flight early in the morning, love y'all I'll try to take lots of pictures and get you gifts and food lol! ttyl

depression:

...

I thought i was your smart friend too...

Cat lover:

You are!!

depression:

yea sure, anyway, have fun loser, we'll miss you

smart one:

...

cat lover:

...

depression:

?

cat lover:

awww you'll miss me :D

*depression has logged off*

cat lover:

pft...

Smart one:

ignore him, he's right tho, we will indeed miss you! so you'd better have enough fun for all of us! love you, and get to bed

*Smart one has logged off*

I turned my phone off smiling to myself, my friends are so great!

Time skip: the next day (3: 30am)

I ran around the house making sure I had everything, seeing that I did, I called my uber and let them know to pick me up.

I walked out the door, and brought my suitcases out with me, and sat at the curb to wait.

while I waited I decided to play some honkai star rail, since I wouldn't be able to play it in japan (no wifi and all)...

the sound of a car pulling up brought be back to reality, and a girl with rich dark skip stepped out, "are you, Y/n, the cat lover?" she asked.

"yes, are you Trina...?" I asked unsure.

"yes! yes I am, okay hop in, let me help you with your bags." she beamed.

the ride to the airport was nice, the time flew by as I talked with trina, she was a really nice person. As we talked I found out that she also played star rail and we bonded over that, at the end of the ride we made sure to exchange ids (in game).

I made my way into the airport after saying goodbye to trina.

After checking in, checking my bags, and going through security I went to sit at my gate (for the flight).

Time skip: In japan

the voice of the flight attendant woke me up:

"Welcome to japan, and thanks for flying with our airlines!"

and she said that i looked out the window, to see the airport in japan, it was quite something (especially knowing i went across the globe to come here).

"we will now begin un-boarding."

Time skip: at the hotel:

the hotel was beautiful, the pictures did it no justice. The hotel was supposed to be a more modern twist on a traditional japanese design.

There was a closet, a bathroom and plenty of other things in the suite.

I unpacked some into the room, putting my clothes into the closet, my toiletries into the bathroom, and organizing everything else.

after I was settled in and had showered I looked at my To-Do list

1- go to a shrine

'seems simple enough' I thought to myself as I changed into a modest outfit, and grabbed the map, smoothly making my way out the door.

Saying goodbye to the staff as I left and letting them know that I'd be out. (Y/n speaking no japanese the staff thankfully speak english too)

the staff were even nice enough to point me in the direction of the shrine that I wanted to go to.

thanking them, I ran out the door, eager to get there! I made my way down the roads following their directions.

after a while, I found myself lost.

"that's okay I have my phone, Gps is good for this." I said to myself as I pulled my phone out.

"no wifi"

"...l-I forgot about that." I said as I read the error message that showed up as I tried to use the gps app.

as I was cursing my luck a blue haired male bumped into me causing me to drop my phone.

"Sorry miss, here let me get it for you" he said as he bent down and grabbed my phone. handing it to me when he stood back up.

"oh don't worry about it, thanks." I responded

'he's so nice'

I looked up at him to meet his eyes only to be met with a mask covering them.

"say, sir, I'm lost do you mind giving me directions to the shrine." I asked, inwardly hoping that I wasn't bothering him.

"Why of course." he said as he continued to give me the directions

"Thank you so much" I said as he finished, " I really owe you one-"

I was about to offer to buy him coffee but I was interrupted by the shout of a mad in a black coat and glasses, with black hair.

"Dottore! we're going to be late." he shouted

'oh'

"I'll let you get going, sorry to take up so much of your time, thanks again." I said to him as I made my way to the shrine, finding it much easier now that i had clearer directions.

Time skip: at the shrine

I got a fortune slip, and some pictures for my friends. and on the way to the shrine I happened to see a traditional dango stand... so I had to get some

it was very good, Jerry would be very jealous.

The sun started to set, so I finished up my time at the shrine, concluding it by ringing the bell three times and praying.

time skip: at the hotel

It was so fun, as I came back into the suite room I set down my shoes and got ready for a shower, where I washed up for bed.

after the shower I put some of the things I got for my friends into my empty suitcase, before getting into the bed.

Sighing contently, I turned to the lamp next to me and turned it off. trying to get comfortable in the bed (you're wearing a robe to sleep in btw).

as I let my eyes wonder I was met with some lifeless blue eyes.

a small 'ah' left my lips as I shot up from the covers.

the eyes just stayed there, neither of use made an attempt to move.

"wh- what do you want?" I questioned quietly, almost a whisper.

as I said that the man began to move towards me , soon the bed dipped as he crawled towards me. we were face to face, I began to lean away from him, my body leaning into the mattress as his towered over me and leaned in closer.

if we had been lovers the position would have been romantic, but I had never seen this man.

I soon had no where to lean now and he was awfully close to my face. I turned my head away from him, which in turn gave him access to my neck, to which he buried his nose into, and he seemed to be swelling me.

"you smell so good" the ginger haired male said in a deep voice as he attempted to bury his head further into my next, where my neck met my collar bone.

when i suddenly felt something wet on my neck i reflexively pushed him, causing our eyes to meet once more.

"you're quite the interesting human, I wonder." he said as I shook slightly

"who-"

"why do you smell like dottore?" the ginger growled

at the name of the man I'd seen earlier I relaxed some, although i'm not sure why.

"huh, are you perhaps in some sort of relationship with that man?" he asked his voice laced with venom as he mentioned him. "Your body relaxed when I said his name."

I wanted to reply, I just couldn't find my voice.

'who was this man?'

"childe I do suggest you don't go marking that which isn't yours." a deep voice interrupted.

the two of us turned our attention to a grey older man, who was illuminated by the moon light.

the man's above me, childe, obliged and got off of me, which allowed me to sit up and scoot away.

looking at the grey older man once more, I noticed that he had some sort of mask covering half of his face. and I also noticed his eye and how it seemed to glow.

I gazed back to childe and noticed how he looked like dog following its master's rules.

"I do apologize about his behavior, it is almost the full moon and he must not have been able to control himself." the older man said.

I opened my mouth to speak, but ultimately didnt know how to respond, " Uh, I suppose it should be okay... as long as it doesn't happen again..." I said, unsure the entire time.

suddenly I saw a flash of blue and heard a thud.

childe was on the ground four feet from the bed, i suddenly felt two arms wrapping themselves around me, I looked around and I couldn't tell who's arms they were.

childe was on the ground and the older man's was still standing.

the person behind me began to lean down to where my neck met my collar bone.

"it's okay, it's just me" Dottores voice whispered against my skin and he loosened his grip on my waist, allowing me to turn around to see him.

In my fear ridden state I clung to him, my arms wrapped around his neck, and in turn his arms tightened around my waist.

"I'm sorry" I whispered to him, so quietly, that he almost didn't catch it.

he rubbed his hand on the small of my back and glared at childe, and said, "I don't know why you're apologizing, but if anyone should apologize it should be me."

His sudden confession caused me to look up at him, only for him to lean down into my exposed neck (the robe was now slightly disheveled now thanks to childe) and bit down, causing me to gasp in surprise.

a deep sense of sleep soon took over me, as I began to hear dottore gulp , and my vision faded in and out, before faded to black. 

A/n:

>:D 

How is everyone liking it so far? 

also, im glad people here (tumblr) are enjoying this far more than the people on wattpad (which is a little surprising to me, but anyways.)

#childe x reader #genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #fatui harbingers #pantalone #fatui x reader #genshin pierro #childe is a little creepy in this part #childe tartaglia ajax #childe

[danggirlronpa]

6, 7 and 23 of the Danganronpa asks.

6. Do you have a fan character? Tell us about them!

I...DO.............the concept is that she's class 78th's (Makoto's class) homeroom teacher. Like Chisa, she wants to encourage the class to engage in their lives as high schoolers, but unlike Chisa, she is less Nurturing Caretaker and more Serious Professor. She's the Ultimate Prosecutor, and she structures her class as a round circle debate club. The only time she softens up is when around bunnies.

The idea is that it's a ton of little stuff that can be picked apart as reasons for stuff that's unexplained later - why Junko picked the trial system (replacing fond memories of faux class trials with the despair of the true class trials), why Usami is designed as a bunny (though her personality was taken more from Chisa), etc. - so there's a lot of retroactive foreshadowing, but also a guise through which to see the THH embrace each other and grow as people. Ultimately she's more of a catalyst and perspective character than she is a person with her own arc, because I would love to explain the pregame students one day and the depth of the tragedy that is their lost memories. But Not Today. Maybe I'll draw her one day, too!

7. You get the chance to reassign five characters new talents. Who do you choose, and which new talents do they get?

YES. YESSSS.

Mukuro: Ultimate Mercenary. The wording on this just pisses me off. She was part of a mercenary company. Come on.

Akane: Ultimate Parkour Artist. Another one that just pisses me off. She calls it parkour.

Byakuya: Ultimate Butler. This is the first one where we're going off the rails a bit. Listen. I would hate Byakuya no matter what. That's just how he and I are. Destined mortal enemies. But I would hate him slightly less if his nonsense asshole snobbiness was because he served the rich instead of because he is rich. At least then I could justify it as internalized class politics. Instead of just being. Some rich guy.

Nekomaru: Ultimate Nurse. I couldn't tell you why, but "team manager" always struck me as a really weird, out-of-place talent. But between his knowledge of the body (he can do...It) and his experience as a child in the hospital, I think Nekomaru would be a great nurse!!

Tenko: Ultimate Aikido Master. You'll notice this is not a different name. But it IS a different talent. Because it's just regular aikido. Why did they decide Tenko would have her own fake aikido that wasn't as good. That was so weird. Just let her do aikido.

23. Which are your top three favorite beta designs?

I don't look at the beta designs too often, but these are the ones that stick out to me!

The Sakura art always stood out to me - though I understand why they didn't do it, considering the colorist implications becoming Even Worse. The Fuyuhiko concept art stood out to me in a different way. Look at how stupid that guy looks. Look at that chin. What a man.

I don't actually really like any of Tenko's designs, though I do like this one better than her final one. The most important part is the little snaggletooth on the right. I LOVE that. I LOVE snaggletooth Tenko. I'm obsessed with it.

#asks #multishipper-baby #talk to the mod #mod hangout #not dangan girls #headcanons #sakura ogami #tenko chabashira #mukuro ikusaba #akane owari

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Broken Hearts Are Contagious

Summary: If Marinette doesn't learn to love Tim back before the end of the week, he will die. She is not the victim... so why does she feel like crying?

Written for @maribatserver 's Maribat March

Day 1: Origin Story (for Poison Ivy)

Marinette sips at her drink. It’s non-alcoholic, of course, she isn’t intent on openly breaking the law when Commissioner Gordon is within sight. But that doesn’t change the fact that she is oh-so-tempted to try. She eyes the champagne pyramid not too far away. It is entirely decorative – it would be impossible to get a drink without everything toppling over, and even if you do manage to get one there is a high chance that the drink will be flat.

Then again, she really hates Wayne Galas, and that was a surefire way to make sure she would never have to go again…

Before she can commit to that particular bad idea, a hand taps her on the shoulder.

She whirls around to find a fortunately familiar face. Tim was always one to sneak up on people. He insists it’s accidental, and that he doesn’t mean to, but she has her doubts, because he always smiles so widely whenever he manages to catch her off-guard.

Regardless of his possibly evil ways, he is now leaning against the wall next to her. His hair is brushed, for once, slicked out of his face with far too much gel. She is sorely tempted to mess it up, purely as a petty form of revenge, but considering he is her ticket out of here… it seems like a bad idea.

She can always do it later.

“Tim,” she says, her bitter expression falling away in favor of a faint smile. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

“I’m here to save the day,” he says with a sarcastic little bow, his lips curling in a smirk. “Let’s run away together.”

She doesn’t wait for another second before gathering up her dress in her hands. The air is cloyingly sweet from all of the intermingling perfumes, and she wants out. “Absolutely. How do we escape?”

“Depends, are you down to climb a drainpipe?”

“There’s no way that’ll hold our weight,” Marinette says, her eyebrows raising.

He huffs, but he doesn’t actually seem all that put out. “It might. But, fine, guess we’ll just have to leave the normal way.”

So, hand in hand, they make their grand escape.

Okay, that might be a little dramatic, all they do is find their way to a higher balcony so they can talk without fear of being forced into conversations about stocks and taxes and ooooh, I just LOVE your dress, DO tell me where you got it.

No, they have much more interesting conversations in store for them, like gossip.

“They say there’s a new assassin on the loose,” says Tim.

She has heard that. Quite a few rich people had suddenly been found dead – poisoned, to be specific. But, as she looks out over the Gala below them, she is sorry to say that the assassin is not going fast enough.

Marinette hums absently. “There’s always another assassin.”

“It’s a good line of work. Business is booming. If only I didn’t have those pesky morals,” sighs Tim.

Marinette can only nod along. One day she, too, will have a terrible accident that leads to her becoming a supervillain, she is sure her time will come eventually.

But, for now, she is much more interested in chatting with her best friend.

“I heard Cobblepot is secretly a Rogue,” Marinette says, leaning over the railing so she could properly squint at the man. She opts to ignore the rest of that particular rumor, because not even their friend Bernard would believe that the umbrellas the man carried were all secretly insane gadgets.

Tim snickers as if he can hear her thought process. “Yeah? Are you gonna tell me you believe in The Batman, too?”

She grins. “And what if I do? What would you do?”

“Well, stop you from hanging out with Bernard, for one.”

Marinette gasps. “You would never! My mental health would shatter if I was not allowed to talk to my emotional support delusional friend.”

“I need you to repeat the last four words of that sentence for me.”

“... emotional support delusional friend?”

“Yeah, thanks for proving my point.”

“You’re no fuuuuuun.”

“I’m practical. I go out at night all the time. If he existed, I think I would have seen him by now.”

Okay, does Marinette actually believe in Batman? No, absolutely not. But damn if she wasn’t going to defend his honor. “Well, yeah, if he’s a hybrid half-man, half-bat being, it makes sense that he would be trying to hide himself as much as possible!”

“And that’s how I know you’re not a true bat-fan. Any true believer knows he is three-fourths bat and one-fourth man.”

Alas, she has been caught.

She leans back against the banister, pouting. “How was I supposed to know you were actually paying attention to Bernard’s rants? I always thought you were lost in your own head. You never speak!”

He lifts his hands in a sheepish little shrug. “I like listening to you guys talk.”

“Ha. Simp.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Real mature.”

“I am, thank you for noticing. This is why I should be allowed to drink underage —.”

She never finishes her sentence, because her eyes stray to the champagne tower, and that particular train of thought is derailed. For a woman stands at the base of the pyramid. Which is already strange, but her outfit is even stranger. A dress that appears to be made out of leaves, rustling behind her as she walked. Red hair is threaded with thick green ribbons that remind her of vines.

Dully, Marinette thinks she might actually want to know where the woman had gotten her dress.

A hand reaches out and plucks a champagne glass from the pyramid.

It topples faster than you might expect, the glasses clinking against each other briefly before they’re sent to the floor, shattering in a messy display. Glass shards and liquid gold spilling across the tile.

If people weren’t looking at the mysterious woman before, they certainly are now.

She smiles.

“Hello, Gotham,” she says, her voice echoing. Is she hooked up to a mic? Or is she just that good at projecting? “I’m the newest assassin, Poison Ivy.”

Understandably, most people back up a few steps. Even Tim and Marinette, who are safely on a balcony she could not reasonably reach anytime soon, flinch backward.

She smiles wider.

“You’re kinda a bad assassin, though,” Brucie Wayne speaks up, and everyone in the vicinity immediately cringes. “I mean, why tell us now? Why not – like – after you kill us?”

“Easy! Because you’re all already dead!”

Brucie looks down at himself, as if to confirm that he has legs.

The people who have two functioning brain cells to rub together, though, immediately blanche at the news. They’re already doomed? How? Her name more than implies that her killing method of choice is poison, so… where is it? It can’t be the food, people hardly eat at parties like this (despite how good the food is), and it’s not as if she could poison every single drink without anyone noticing.

“There is poison in the very air you breathe.”

Wait, what?

Her hands come up to cover her mouth and nose, as if it is still something she can fix. She has been smelling that sickening sweetness for well over ten minutes now, she can’t uninhale it.

“It’s slow-acting…  not that slow-acting, you all have around a week, max, but…” she shrugs, her eyes gleaming. “I figured I should give you all the time to say goodbye to your loved ones.”

That was… surprisingly generous.

For some reason, Marinette can’t bring herself to trust it.

Indeed, Poison Ivy continues on: “Well, your loved ones. I’m sure all of you know that you are unlovable, that they only love your money… I’m sure they’ll all be very pleased to learn of your sudden passing.”

Unsurprisingly, this is not what people want to hear immediately after being told that they are going to die in a week or less.

“In fact, I’m willing to bet on all of you rich people being unloved – so much so that my little plants are based around it! If any of you love someone, and find it to not be reciprocated, the plant will take root, and you will die.”

It is deathly silent.

A… plant?

“Wait! How?” Marinette is the first one to speak up. She isn’t scared, not really, just confused beyond measure.

And Poison Ivy seems to be experiencing the same strange emotion, because she balks a little bit upon seeing Tim and Marinette. She hesitates, briefly, her confident posture wavering, before she brings herself back to the present, outright laughing at her.

“You are all going to die, and you want to know how?”

Marinette just nods. Call it denial and bargaining mixing together into one very unfortunate cocktail (she really should have drank earlier), but she has to know.

The woman considers her for a moment, before sighing. “The plants should have already taken root in all of your brains. They feed off of certain nutrients. As time continues on, they will run out of room and begin pushing their way down, through your heart, into your lungs…” She waves a hand. “I’m sure that I don’t need to continue, we all get the idea.”

Brucie looks like he absolutely does not.

But Poison Ivy does not seem to care enough to explain anything to him.

“Get your affairs in order, everyone!”

No one even tries to stop her when she leaves.

Someone laughs, but it is nervous. A woman tucks her hair behind her ear. “Well… it’s a good thing that I’m married, now, isn’t it?” she asks her husband.

Said husband looks like he would much rather be anywhere but there. “So – so true, honey.”

Marinette remembers, dully, that both of them are cheating on each other. She wonders if they know. She wonders if either of them will be around next week.

She will live, though.

“Thank the gods I decided I wasn’t going to date anyone until college,” Marinette jokes lightly.

Tim wheezes.

She didn’t think that the joke was that funny.

“Yep, isn’t that… convenient?” he says, sounding pained.

She looks over at him, frowning, and finds him leaning against the banister. His hands grip the marble, his knuckles turning white. She is pretty sure that this is the palest she has ever seen him.

Dread begins to trickle down her back.

“Tim?”

He winces.

“You like someone that doesn’t like you back, don’t you?”

He nods ever so slightly, his gaze determinedly pointed at their feet.

“It’s not Bernard, is it?” she tries.

He shakes his head.

And Marinette can’t help it – she bursts out laughing. Until she is gasping for breath between peals of laughter. She laughs so hard she feels tears begin to well in her eyes.

Tim jolts to look at her. “What the hell is funny about any of this?”

“I was just thinking…” she quickly swipes her fingers beneath her eye in fruitless hopes that her mascara won’t run, still giggling. “I was wondering if this was going to be the start of my supervillain arc or something.”

Tim gives her an incredulous look.

This, of course, only makes her laugh harder.

~

One week to live, max.

It is… an interesting stipulation. She assumes that ‘Poison Ivy’ wants her victims to suffer, but why only for a week?

It could be that the ‘disease’ (Marinette refuses to believe that plants can be in any way sentient) is fast-acting, but it also might be a safeguard of sorts. Maybe there is a way to counteract the disease, some sort of cure.

Maybe that was hopeful thinking.

Maybe that would be worse for her in the long run. It is probably easier to give up – like Tim seems to have, it has not escaped her notice that it is lunchtime and he still hasn’t attended any of their shared classes – and accept that there is nothing you can do instead of trying fruitlessly to find a solution.

After all, she is just a random high schooler. Even if there is a cure of some sort, there is nothing that she can do. She is only passing her biology class by the skin of her teeth! She can’t deal with a bioweapon!

She presses her face into her hands. The cafeteria is silent. Basically no one is attending classes today. They’re all stressed about the bioweapon thing and don’t want to spend their last moments in a classroom.

She gets that.

And yet.

She doesn’t want to be alone right now.

She wants her best friend.

But, while he is her best friend, she isn’t his. And the thought makes her want to be sick. For once, the fact that her skin tinges green in the school cafeteria isn’t actually due to the food. She hasn’t eaten any, and she can't even smell it thanks to the horrible sugary smell that has been trapped in her nose since the Gala.

She pushes her plate out of the way and sinks to rest her head against the table, as if it might soothe her headache.

It doesn’t.

Most likely because the headache is more metaphorical than literal.

It’s a bit literal, too, though. She’s probably gritting her teeth.

How could she not?

She doesn’t want to talk to Tim. She doesn’t want to know how many of their interactions over the years they hadn’t been on the same page for. Doesn’t want to have to think about all of the joking flirting they had done, and how it had only been a joke for her.

She understands that he has feelings, and that he can’t help them, but that doesn’t make her feel any less violated.

Because, ultimately, if she had known she wouldn’t have behaved in all of the same ways, and it feels like that is part of the reason why he hadn’t told her.

He probably didn’t want things to change in their relationship, but why doesn’t she get a say in that?

Things had changed. She just hadn’t been told about it.

So, why does she still want to go to him? She feels betrayed. By him. He is the very reason she is upset, and yet she still wants to seek comfort in him.

She hates emotions. Can she have a refund? Yeah, she’s lost the receipt and all, but…

She can’t bring herself to care enough to finish the joke, even in her own mind.

It was stupid, anyway.

The silence in the cafeteria is almost oppressive.

A hand taps her on the shoulder and she hesitates, considering playing dead to make them go away. Then she realizes that she might actually convince people that she was dead, considering the current circumstances, so she lifts her head.

Bernard takes a seat beside her, smiling. The prick had been out of town during the Gala. Lucky him. If he had gone, he would currently be dying due to his unrequited crush on Tim’s stepmom.

“You should go visit him,” he says, as if it’s really that simple.

She gives him a flat look. He had always been an airhead. You’d think that watching your friend die in front of you in a mob-related school shooting would wisen you up some, but Bernard remains entirely without a brain.

She supposes she should have expected this. After all, Brucie Wayne exists. Clearly, it is possible.

“It’s not that easy,” she says, sinking back against the table again, wondering if she can meld with it and avoid the conversation.

“I know. But you’re going to regret it if you don’t.”

Marinette pauses and lifts her head to meet his eyes.

She hates it when the dumbest person in the room makes a good point.

Because doesn’t that make her the new dumbest person by default?

Still, she is also the most stubborn, so she glares at him. “I’m sorry, if I was dying because I secretly had a crush on you this whole time, would you want to come visit me?”

Bernard, to his credit, actually considers this. And then, in true Bernard fashion, just shrugs.

She groans. “I’ll be fine.”

He snorts. “You’re not even fine now. Mari, no offense, but have you seen yourself?”

“Sorry for not looking great after finding out my best friend of several years is going to die because I can’t reciprocate his feelings,” she says flatly.

Bernard sobers, if only slightly.

He sighs, matching her posture. “You’re going to regret it if you don’t,” he repeats.

Marinette glares at the tray in front of her like it has personally offended her. To be fair, it has – who decided that melted cheese on bread is a good entree?

“I’m going to go grab something else for lunch,” she says, pushing the tray over to him. “No one is doing classes today, anyway.”

Bernard doesn’t say a word about her dumb excuse. Maybe he is too concentrated on the terrible ‘food’ that has been forced upon him.

She can’t bring herself to care. As long as no one questions her, she will be fine.

~

Marinette stares up at the wooden lattice that she can use to reach Tim’s window. It is supposed to house flowers, she is pretty sure, but they have long since shriveled up and died. It wasn’t due to neglect, the Drakes had always made sure that the outside of their house, at least, was always well tended to. No, this, she was pretty sure that she had just trampled over the plants so many times while visiting her friend that they just stopped bothering to grow.

She supposes that it could be ironic, that the flowers are dead because of her, and flowers are killing her friend because of her, but she can’t seem to find the energy to wax poetic right now.

For a moment, she doesn’t move, her hand resting against the wooden lattice.

Should she hang out with him? If he is going to die, she wants to spend time with him before he goes… but would that make him die faster? Would constant, tiny rejections make the flowers – the disease – take over faster?

How does this stupid fake flower disease even work? What are the stipulations?

She hates being helpless.

She clambers up the lattice and makes sure she is fully seated on the windowsill before she raps her knuckles against the glass. She peers into the dark room, wondering if anyone is even there, trying to make out shapes in the dark.

A lump on the bed slowly shifts, an arm reaching out to flick on a lamp. Tim sits up slowly. He blinks bleary eyes open.

And then he bolts upright.

Tim stares at her, as if he is half convinced that she’s a hallucination.

For a moment, she wishes for that to be the case but, when his otherwise pale cheeks flush with the slightest bit of color upon seeing her, her stomach lurches in a way that assures her that all of this is very much real.

He scrambles to his feet so fast he almost slips on his blanket, and she almost huffs a laugh at the sight. He manages a sheepish smile.

The window latch unlocks and she is allowed to make her way inside.

Tim… doesn’t look great. His pajamas swamp him and his hair is almost painfully messy, but all she can really focus on is how gaunt his face looks.

He looks frail.

A week… max.

Marinette can’t bring herself to speak, not even to say hi.

“I – I didn’t know whether you would come,” he admits.

Marinette manages a ghost of a smile. “I considered not.”

He gives an aborted little laugh. “... well, you’ve always been brutally honest, I guess.”

… was she?

Marinette would say quite the opposite, that she usually beat around the bush for most things, so long as they weren’t vitally important.

But here he was, defending her rudeness with ease, in fact he almost seemed fond. So much so that she almost began to wonder whether he was right and she was the one that was wrong.

Or whether he didn’t even know her. Whether the ‘Marinette’ that he had fallen in love with wasn’t even actually her, but instead some idolized version of her.

She was no angel. She had flaws. She was just a regular person.

She wonders if Tim would agree if she said those words aloud. But, ultimately, she isn’t the type to say that, to bring those things out into the open, so instead she gives a laugh – it is late, and it does nothing to clear the awkward air, but it is already out there, so it’s not as if it can be taken back.

Tim’s smile wavers, if only slightly. “... how about a movie?”

She almost jumps at the opportunity to have something break the silence.

But she soon realizes her mistake because, once the movie is on, there is really no reason to talk anymore. Tim hadn’t put on a purposefully bad movie they could laugh at together. He had opted for Howl’s Moving Castle. The subbed version, they aren’t plebs… but this also meant that they have to concentrate on the movie somewhat in order to keep track of what is going on.

Not that they don’t already know it all by heart. They’ve rewatched it dozens of times over the years.

Marinette had always thought the romance between Howl and Sophie was a little bit forced, but she liked the movie regardless. And, even if she hadn’t, it wasn’t as if she was going to stop Tim from watching the movie he chose when he was going to die soon.

Still.

They are both quiet, as is standard for watching a movie, and yet… this time, it is different. Now, she is aware of the way Tim’s eyes stray to her more often than not.

The silence isn’t the fond, loving kind that people always talk about. It is uncomfortable. It is an unspoken acknowledgment that things have changed.

Marinette wishes, silently, for things to go back to the way they were.

She wants her best friend back.

But it looks as if she is going to have to settle for the next best thing.

She looks at Tim. He’s lying against the pillows in a way that would seem casual if it were not for the sunkenness of his eyes. His lips are curled into the slightest of smiles as he looks at the screen, but he is quick to turn his attention onto her.

She takes on deep breath, steeling herself.

It doesn’t help.

But she still grabs him by the shirt and drags his lips up to meet hers anyway.

She fights down a wave of revulsion.

He can’t die. He can’t! She can bear to live in discomfort. She is not going to live without him, not if she can help it.

He kisses her back. He is, objectively, a good kisser. His hands cradle her face like she is something precious.

She wants to be sick. Her hands ball tighter in his shirt.

She just needs to think of all of those movies. The ones where the girl realizes that she actually loved the guy all along, and was just too stupid to not realize it before.

She swears she can taste copper. She nearly chokes on it.

She does love Tim. He is sweet, and kind, and intelligent, and her best friend. Don’t people talk about how a good friendship leads to a good relationship?

Right?

Right?

He pulls back (finally).

His thumbs swipe beneath her eyes. Had she been crying? 

It might not work if she cries.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Doesn’t want to see Tim’s face. Doesn’t want to know whether she had accidentally doomed him.

This is all so unfair.

Why is she the one who has to change?

Why can’t he love her in the way she loves him?

She can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

She opens her eyes to find his lips stained a deep red. His eyes are wide with horror.

Marinette feels a strange wave of satisfaction. At least it isn’t her, for once.

When she keels forward, coughing into their laps, bloodied flower petals spill from her lips.

#maribat #maribat march #timari #timinette #timmari #as an aroace person hanahaki aus are the fucking worst #so i decided to do a deconstruction