#Exclusive retirement apartments

[dotster001]

Househusband Au HC'S

Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂

CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it

Part Two. Part Three

Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.

Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!

One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.

Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.

You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.

If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.

Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!

They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!

Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…

He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.

If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.

That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.

You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.

Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.

Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.

If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.

You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.

Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.

When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!

Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him! 

He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.

Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along.  His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!

Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.

You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.

He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.

Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.

Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.

His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.

You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.

Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?

He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.

"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?

He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.

If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him. 

Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.

[thelifeofchuckmovie]

When it comes to ending the world, Stephen King is a repeat offender. He has brought life as we know it to a brutal conclusion several times over the decades, usually highlighting the cruelty and desperation that erupts among the last to go. But his 2020 story “The Life of Chuck” uses doomsday to evoke some unlikely sentiments: Wistfulness. Gratitude. Even joy.

The idea of creating an apocalyptic version of It’s a Wonderful Life is what led filmmaker Mike Flanagan to call dibs on the rights to the novella more than four years ago. The breakdown of society, extinction-level natural disasters, and the disintegration of reality itself is explored through the lens of one relatively meek and mild accountant, played by Tom Hiddleston, whose memories and choices are mysteriously connected to these tribulations. Retirement posters congratulating him on “39 great years” pop up everywhere. But who is this guy? What job does he do (or did he used to do)? And why does it matter so much to the fate of the world? This apparent nobody named Chuck Krantz has lived larger than anyone thought possible.

Having explored King country before in 2017’s Gerald’s Game and 2019’s The Shining sequel Doctor Sleep, Flanagan got involved after reading an early copy of “Chuck” before it was published in the collection If It Bleeds. The Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher creator produced the film independently, believing it might be too offbeat for risk-averse studios to greenlight. He even secured a waiver from the striking Hollywood guilds last year to move forward with the shoot while the rest of the industry was stuck in the work stoppage. Now he and Hiddleston are ready to reveal the finished version of The Life of Chuck as it heads to the upcoming Toronto International Film Festival, where it will screen for potential distributors.

Among the skeptics about this adaptation was King himself, according to Flanagan. “His initial responses to me were a little like, ‘Oh, okay. Yeah. If you think that’s a movie…,’” he says. “He did say several times that he thought it would be a challenge to get it supported through traditional means.”

King has now seen the finished movie and no longer has doubts. He described it to Vanity Fair as “a happiness machine.”

“Well, he’s written something very tender and very wise,” Hiddleston says. “I think there is a great wisdom in the soul of the story, which is that it takes courage to hold on to what is good in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.”

Flanagan hopes others see it that way too, although the overpowering dread that begins the story may be more immediately relatable. “I’ve heard it said that every generation feels a little like the world is ending at some point, [but] I still feel like it’s different for us,” the 46-year-old filmmaker says with a mordant laugh. “Institutions we took for granted as propping up our society are failing left and right. Our politics have degraded spectacularly. The sense that it’s breaking down, that the world is moving on, has been increasingly palpable. When I talk to my parents or members of older generations who have been through their own turbulent times, the thing that strikes me is that they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is really bad.’”

But…it’s not entirely bad. And that’s the underlying message of The Life of Chuck as its various mysteries play out. “There’s no sense of terror in the way that King drew it,” Flanagan says. “Even as the world feels as though it’s ending, people become introspective, they reach into their past for loves that have left their lives for one reason or another. Strangers engage in open and fearless communication.”

It’s an indie-film variation on the big-budget cataclysm story. “A disaster movie has people meeting the end while running from tidal waves, and this story has people sitting quietly holding hands looking at the stars,” Flanagan says.

The key to it all is Chuck himself, although he doesn’t turn up onscreen until the second segment of the three-act story, which plays out in reverse chronological order.

The beginning is actually the end, as the whole world circles the drain. Caught in this spiral is Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave), a school teacher trying to apply logic to the planet’s troubles; Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) is his ex, a hospital worker determined to save everyone she can; Matthew Lillard (Scream) is a construction worker neighbor who finds zen amid the chaos; and Carl Lumbly (Alias), plays a funeral director who has dedicated his life to easing people through death.

The end of the movie is actually the beginning, showing young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) when he was a boy being raised by his grandparents (Mia Sara of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Mark Hamill). The insight of these two—coupled with the otherworldly revelations he finds in an eerie room tucked into the peak of their Victorian home—help him learn to seek out bright spots when life is marred by sorrow and darkness.

In elementary school, young Chuck discovers some important things about himself thanks to guidance from a brusque dance instructor (Samantha Sloyan), and a kindhearted English teacher, played by Kate Siegel, who gives the boy (not to mention the audience) some important information that serves as a code breaker for the story's more cosmic puzzles.

As for the middle of the film: It’s a dance number. That’s when Hiddleston steps in.

Compounding the peculiarity of The Life of Chuck is the question: Why is this song and dance sequence so important? The answer is for the movie to reveal, but it matters a lot. “The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film,” Hiddleston says. “There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars. Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and deep connection.”

Hiddleston shows the audience this single moment in the life of a buttoned-up fellow who somehow controls the destiny of the world. It’s not necessarily the most important day in his life, but it’s a memorable one involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon), a lovely stranger (played by Annalise Basso), and a fateful decision to cast aside caution and cut a rug. “It’s a reminder to do whatever it is that expresses whatever gives you that feeling of being alive,” Hiddleston says. “Whether it’s music or dancing or math or writing or creativity—do it. Do it now. Those moments are what you’ll remember.”

Flanagan considered casting a relative unknown as Chuck to “give the audience the experience of ‘Who the hell is this person?’” as the peculiar retirement signs begin to appear in the midst of the apocalypse. But he felt the promise of the Loki star would build more curiosity as the world falls apart. “You grow an enormous amount of anticipation to finally spend time with an actor like Tom, who can be a literal god in one story, and then an everyman in another,” Flanagan says.

A TikTok video of Hiddleston getting his groove on sealed the deal. “He had a completely unfiltered joy on his face,” Flanagan says. “He was a good dancer, but that wasn’t what struck me. I wasn’t amazed by the technique so much as the degree of happiness that was radiating off of him. The look on his face made me smile the same way I smiled reading that particular portion of the book.”

The resulting scene was created in a month-long collaboration between Flanagan, Hiddleston, Basso, choreographer Mandy Moore (So You Think You Can Dance, and La La Land), and Gordon, a real-life percussionist who performs under the name the Pocket Queen. “Taylor was there for all of the dance choreography. She wrote that piece of music for that performance. They built it together,” Flanagan says.

Hiddleston rattles off the lists of influences: “I had to learn in six weeks the full regime of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.”

Precision was not the goal, exuberance was what they sought. “We need to always bear in mind that this man is an accountant. We needed this to be an earnest, escalating explosion of joy, and a remembrance of who he was,” Flanagan says. “It’s a chance to step back into the skin of his younger self, not caring that his feet are going to kill him the next day, not caring that he’s going to wake up with a horribly stiff neck.”

A surprising thing happened while shooting the scene over the course of several sweltering afternoons in the deep South. “I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”

The sequence begins awkwardly: Chuck is self-conscious as he first hears the busker’s rhythm while walking back from a banking conference. That feeling quickly gets shaken off. “Tom was very committed,” Flanagan says. “He was like, ‘If I look silly, that’s fine. As long as I look happy.’”

Flanagan remembers being in a bad place when he first discovered “The Life of Chuck.” Then again, everybody was.

His copy of the manuscript arrived in March 2020. “That was just as the world shut down for COVID,” he says. “We had been a week away from starting principal photography on Midnight Mass in Vancouver and had fled across the border before it closed to make it back to the States. We were hunkered down in our homes and had no idea if this was going to last for two weeks or if this was going to last forever.”

With everything halted as the lockdown set in, Flanagan had plenty of time to do nothing but read. The new King book seemed like the perfect escape. Except…

“The first third of ‘The Life of Chuck’ just rattled me,” he recalls. “There’s no way he wrote this before the world ground to this bizarre halt—but he did. And the feeling of anxiety, and uncertainty, and that everything was falling apart came roaring out at me. I wasn’t sure I could finish it. It just felt too close to the anxiety I was feeling.” But he kept turning the pages. “By the end of it, I was in tears, and incredibly uplifted, and convinced I’d read maybe the best thing that he’d written in a decade. I just was floored by the thing,” Flanagan says. “So I fired off an email to him right away saying how much I loved the story, how incredible I thought it was, how meaningful, and important, and how it had really tattooed itself on my heart and said, ‘It’s the movie I want to make so that it’ll exist in the world for my kids.’”

King’s response: Not so fast. Flanagan and his producing partner, Trevor Macy, had at that point secured the rights to King’s fantasy saga The Dark Tower through their company, Intrepid Pictures. The eight-book series is threaded throughout King’s other works, and adapting it was a massive undertaking that Flanagan is still working to make happen. Other filmmakers had either abandoned the project, were canceled midway through, or bombed miserably. The author didn’t want him to be distracted. “He doesn’t like to give the same filmmaker more than one thing, because it typically means one thing is not advancing at all,” Flanagan says. “He said, ‘Well, let’s focus on The Tower and I’ll try to keep this one available for you for later.’”

The quest to The Dark Tower remains a priority for Flanagan, but a number of disruptions to that epic undertaking led him to reapproach King last year about Chuck. Intrepid’s deal with Netflix, where they had created Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and other shows, had come to a close, and Intrepid signed a new development agreement with Amazon. That meant starting over on The Dark Tower. Meanwhile, the threat of a double-barreled strike by writers and actors was on the horizon, stalling nearly every major new project. The industry plunged into another production-halting lockdown, this time over contract impasses rather than a virus.

Since The Dark Tower was suddenly further off on the horizon, Flanagan saw a chance to make The Life of Chuck happen in the short term. “It’s so rare that I get to approach any project that just has not an ounce of cynicism to it. I just really believed in this thing,” he says. “But it was also clear that we would have an incredibly uphill battle bringing the story to any major studio. They would try to make it as familiar as possible, instead of leaning into what makes it so different.”

King gave Flanagan his blessing to proceed. “I was off like a shot,” the filmmaker says. “I think I turned in the draft to him before he got around to sending the formal agreement.”

For everyone involved, The Life of Chuck became a bright spot in an otherwise dismal time, which matches the theme of the film. “There is a profound optimism in this story,” Hiddleston says. “As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.”

[katebishopshands]

You Can See Me As A Secret Mission

(Kate Bishop/Reader)

Content: (SMUT, 18+, wlw, top Kate bishop, bottom reader, enemies to lovers, hate sex (kinda??), fake dating/relationship, making out, finger bLASTING, strap on sex, reader has pierced tits because I do)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kate bishop has been a pain in your ass since she joined the “new avengers”. Perky, talented, caring, but only you saw what she actually was, a rich girl that always got her way.

After being put on a undercover mission together, will pretending to be in a relationship with her for the sake of the mission push you farther apart, or will it make your realize maybe your feelings are more than meets the eye?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Does it always take you this long to get ready?”

Your eye twitched in annoyance as you put the final coat of mascara on your lashes. You knew if you were to walk out of the bathroom you’d see Kate Bishop, sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone looking bored.

You could’ve been paired with anyone on the team. Sam, Bucky..Yelena even. Her experience in the field would be appreciated. But instead you were paired with Kate bishop, the rookie. Clint had said that she was ready to take over his role as sharpshooter on the team but you think he really just wanted to retire. Lucky son of a bitch.

Kate was fine, she was good with a bow and could throw a punch, but she lacked precision. Often going out on her own and putting the whole mission at risk. It was extremely frustrating for someone who had worked most of their late teens and early twenties to be where you were. Her rich girl attitude showed through on more than one occasion, like when she forgot that not everyone didn’t go to a private school for all of their school career, or that most people rely on the subway to go from place to place and don’t get chauffeured.

In return to your shitty attitude to her, Kate had taken a liking to rolling her eyes and scoffing at things you said. Proving to you that she was smarter than you by correcting things you had said, and you most favorite of all, taking any chance she could to embarrass you. The endless nicknames that spew from her lips never ceased to make you want to punch her perfect teeth out.

You needed no further proof that Kate Bishop was an overgrown child, and not ready to be an Avenger.

“I have to look the part, do I not?”, you poked your head around the corner, you were correct with your prediction. Kate rolled her eyes and gave a weak glance up from her phone at you. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you however.She took in your figure, covered in some slinky black dress that showed way too much cleavage for your liking.

You could’ve sworn she licked her lips after she checked you out for what seemed to be the second time. You hated to admit it, but she looked good, too good for your liking.

Gone was the athleisure you normally saw her in, traded in for a black suit, her black undershirt’s top two buttons undone and a thin silver chain was visible hanging over her collarbones. Her hair still up on her usual ponytail and a dark purple polish on her nails. You stared for probably too long than was normal for someone who didn’t like their mission partner.

The two of you were supposed to play the roles of a young millionaire and her fiancé that were interested in purchasing some illegal weapons that were rumored to be made out of vibrainium. Tonight was a party at some exclusive bar for potential clients of the group, so you were to look your best so the two of you could scope out the scene. If your cover was blown tonight, the whole mission would go up in smoke.

Luckily for Kate, the role would come naturally. For you? Not so much. Pretending to be in love with Kate was difficult. Sure she was attractive and funny and considerate for the most part, but you were all business whereas Kate wanted to dilly dally a bit too much. Too different for anything to actually work.

The click of a camera brought you back to your senses.

“Yelena is never going to believe you’re wearing that”, Kate snickers and snaps another picture.

“Kate are you serious!? Cut it out!” You take a step forward and reach for her phone, which she holds out of your reach.

“Aw cmon, you look nice. Gimme a twirl” she gestures a twirling motion with her fingers. she’s sincere with her words, but her actions speak louder as she continues to play keep away with you.

“I’m serious Kate DO NOT send that” you reach across her, cleavage in her face, her phone almost in hand. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was looking.

With one slip of your hand off of the arm rest of the couch you were falling. Falling directly into Kate Bishops lap.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, not sure what to do. Searching each others faces for some sort of answer. You took in beauty marks splashed across her face that you’d never seen before, her full lips slightly parted.

Stormy blue eyes that looked into yours. She was prettier up close. You could smell the expensive perfume she had put on earlier for the first time. She had your stomach doing summersaults. Kate flashes you a million dollar smile and your senses come slamming into you like a semi truck. You’re scrambling back up in an instant before she gets the wrong idea.

“I’ll uh, delete the pictures, sorry for embarrassing you “ she looks like a scolded puppy. She avoids looking at you, choosing to fiddle with the hem of her jacket.

“We’re going to be late”, you say ignoring her apology as you rush over to put on your shoes. Your eyes stayed on the floor as you moved. Kate cleared her throat and readjusted her jacket Trying to brush off what had just happened.

You’re grabbing your purse containing the things you need for the night when you hear Kate rifling through all of her pockets.

“What’s wrong?” You say looking up at her. She’s tapping her her suit pockets aggressively, brows furrowed in concentration.

“We’re missing something”

“I don’t think we are, Kate we’re going to be late and it’s gonna blow our cov-“ Kate pulls something small and shiny out of her pocket with a small “aha!”. Your eyes lock with a diamond engagement ring she’s holding up to the light.

“Can’t blow our cover now can we?” Kate says as she positions herself in front of you on one knee, as If she was proposing. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as she shook her arms out, and cleared her throat once more.

“Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest girl on the planet, and being my fiancé?” Kate holds out the ring, and looks up at you. Batting her thick eyelashes a few times, lower lip caught in between her teeth as she smirks at you. She’s completely over the top and ridiculous with it, as she is with most things. But it feels a little too real for your liking.

You swallow hard, why were you nervous? You rub your clammy hand down the front of your dress and hold out your hand,Kate obliges and slips the ring on your index finger. She briefly squeezes your hand before she stands back up. You stand there, becoming accustomed to the ring you now bore on your finger.

“We’re gonna be late!!” Kate nags you, mocking your words from earlier. This snaps you out of your thought and you turn around, letting Kate slip a hand on your lower back, not even minding the gesture, as you’re guided out the door.

Kate bishop is going to be the death of you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sam had given you specific instructions that tonight was for observing and surveying what exactly these people had on the market. No contact was supposed to be made with anyone. So here you sat, leaned up against a bar holding some drink that was sweating against your hand and had been for far too long.

The music was loud, it was too dark to see much, except for the few vibrainium weapons that were on pedestals illuminated with a blue light, giving the room a blue hue. You scanned the room once, then twice. Looking for anyone that might be of interest. But as for now, it seemed to be yuppy rich people wanting expensive and deadly toys to play with .

Kate fit right in. You watched her leaned up against the bar across from you, laughing and drinking with two girls that were on either side of you. She wasn’t even doing her job, instead taking the mission as a chance to party. You finished the rest of your drink, slamming it on the bar hard enough to make the remaining ice cubes jostle about.

A strange feeling bubbles in your stomach, one that you almost could call jealousy. Maybe it was that or the expensive tequila that had been in your drink. You smoothed your dress down, starting your way towards Kate and her new comrades. If she was going to not take this job seriously, then you might as well embarrass her a little.

Coming up behind Kate, you latch yourself onto one of her arms. Looking at her with doe eyes. She jumps a bit , but turns slightly to face you.

“There she is!! I was just talking about you!”

She smiles at you, pulling the arm you had grabbed from you and wrapping it around your waist. Kate’s hand found its resting place on your ass as she pulled you into her, giving it a light squeeze. Before you could have any reaction to the previous action, the other of Kate’s hands found its way to your chin. She held your face in place as she leaned down, connecting your lips . A surprised noise escaped your mouth and she deepens the kiss, letting her tongue push into your mouth. You couldn’t do anything but kiss back, not wanting to blow your cover and not wanting to let her win in whatever game she was trying to play.

She pulls away and you’re breathless. Kates face is flushed , eyes wide as she looks from you to her new friends.

“I was just telling these nice girls about how you so badly wanted to come to the party tonight and look at the new catalog they have this season!” Kates demeanor has changed from the goofy archer you normally know, to a socialite who knows what she wants.

“We just LOVE this years catalog, we’ve been buying all the latest models from this company for years!” The blonde across from you says excitedly.

Kate side eyes you, and you pick up what she’s trying to get you to notice. This company isn’t new, They’re just getting sloppy covering up their tracks, letting too many of the wrong people into their inner circle.

The two of you converse for some time more, digging up as much information as you can from the girls. Having moved from the bar to a small area of lounge tables and chairs. You watch as people trickle in and out of the party, some looking more important than others. Your eyes are constantly scanning the world around you.

You’re going to sit in the chair next to Kate when she grabs your hand, yanking you down on top of her. She gives a pat to your thigh and continues talking business with the ever growing crowd of people that surround you. This had somehow turned into Kates mission without you even realizing it.

Two can play at this game, let’s kick it up a notch. You lean back a bit, resting your arm around her shoulders, playing with the ends of her ponytail flirtily. Kate looks up at you and smiles a bit.

She rubs her thumb over your bare thigh in a comforting manner and goes back to the conversation. It’s amazing watching her run the conversation. Somehow knowing just what to say to everyone to get the information she wants out of them. She’s dazzling in the dim light of the party. You could almost get used to this.

“Show them your ring, babe” you’re snapped out of your thoughts by Kate giving you another pat to your thigh.

“Huh?” You blink at her. She shakes her head and laughs a little, her eyes flashing you the “ go along or we’ll blow our cover” look.

“Awh don’t be shy, show them the pretty rock I bought you” she removes your arm from around her shoulders and shows off the glittering ring on your finger.

“Oh my ring of course!” You laugh off your panic and wiggle your fingers in an attempt to show off how shiny the ring actually was. The group is filled with “oohs” and “ahhs” as you show it off, Kate smiling proudly at you the whole time. Your heart swells a bit at the attention. Almost believing for a bit that you’re actually engaged and in love, not in some rich guys warehouse on a mission for work.

You didn’t like Kate bishop. She was aggravating, the definition of a spoiled rich girl. Where were these feelings coming from?

“Where did you two first meet?” A voice from the group catches you off guard. You lock eyes with an older woman who has had way too much plastic surgery done.

“We uh…” Kate starts, you can see her losing her cool. You hadn’t come up with a backstory. Rookie move.

“We actually met in school!” You save the day by stepping in with your quick thinking skills. She lets out a barely noticeable breath of relief it technically wasn’t a lie. You HAD met in a class, a class about hand to hand combat, but a class nonetheless.

“And I guess it was just love at first sight” you say through almost gritted teeth. It pains you to say that, because it wasnt. This wasn’t real love, and you two have never gotten along. Physical attraction maybe, but your personalities continuously clashed.

Kate looks up at you once more, a small smile on her lips, “yeah….love at first sight”.

Your eyes meet each other. Her eyes are soft, pupils blown a bit. She continuously strokes her thumb on your leg. Kates acting is a bit too good for your liking.

A ding from Kate’s phone pulls your attention from each other and the other guests continue to chat amongst themselves. She reads it, biting her lip a little. You scoot yourself closer to her, wrapping your arms around Kate neck and reading the message on her phone.

Party’s over. Get outta there. Put together all information collected and send in a mission report by 9am.

It’s a text from Sam, updating you on what to do next. Kate looks at you, giving you a slightly disappointed look before she plants a kiss on your cheek. It’s a long kiss, one that only lovers share when they know they won’t see each other for a while.

She taps your leg to signal for you to stand up, so You oblige. Kate goes around the circle saying goodbye to the people you had met over the course of the night. You trailing behind her, admiring the way she looked in her suit.

God she was aggravating. Was there anything she wasn’t good at? She could charm people with the bat of her eyelashes. Flirt successfully with strangers. Shoot an arrow with a blindfold across her eyes. She was hot and you hated to admit it. She was perfect and that’s what you hated.

It was like you had come out of a haze now that you were off her lap. You were mad that she had charmed you THAT easily. Just like every other person in the Kate Bishop fanclub. You huff, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the exit, not wanting to play the roles of young lovers anymore.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The room was eerily quiet as you both got unready. Fleeting glances towards each other, never meeting the others eyes.

You swallowed hard as you sat down on one of the couches to take off your heels, “Was tongue really necessary?”. You had broken the silence and now there was no going back.

“What?” Kate looked up from fiddling with her shirt buttons.

“The kiss, at the bar. Did you REALLY need to swap spit with me like that ?”

“Well I thought it was funny”

you scoffed at her. In shock that an hour ago you were thinking about how maybe you could get along and maybe have something more.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You say with a dirty look in her direction.

“Lyings not a good look on you. The noise you made told me that you were into it”

She laughs at her comment and you roll your eyes, letting a more awkward silence fall over the room.

“I think you might actually like me a little bit, she jokes half to herself and half to you.

She looks over to you, lightly biting her lip a little.

“You seemed a little into the act tonight, that’s all I’m trying to say”

“Shut the fuck up”, you snap at her.

Kate puts her hands up defensively and continues to unbutton her shirt. You sneak a glance at her, catching a look at her toned stomach. It made your face flush a bit before you continued working on unzipping your dress.

The zipper catches midway through your back and you groan. You tug it up and down a few more times in an attempt to free yourself. Kates eyes follow the noise of the zipper and she sees you struggling. She makes her way across the room, her black dress shirt unbuttoned and hanging untucked around her form. The purple lace bra she wore under it being exposed ever so slightly.

You attempted to ignore her, confining to tug on the zipper. But her exposed skin was so tempting to look at.

“Do you need some help?”

“No I don’t need your hel-“, you start to protest her intervention.

“Turn around” Kate demands.

You shut up, listening to her and turning around. Kate sighs and gently moves your hair to one shoulder. Her fingertips are gentle on your exposed back, touching you like you’d break.

You don’t dare to look back at her or else you might do something you regret. You feel her grab the zipper as she begins to work it free.

“Why do you hate me?”

Kate asks casually as she continues her work. It catches you off guard. In the time you’ve known her you’ve never known her to be this blunt. Your voice catches in your throat. The big and bad attitude you had five minutes ago slipping away quickly.

“I don’t hate you”

“Then what’s with the attitude”

You weren’t sure if you were lying or telling the truth when you say you didn’t hate her. The last few hours have been making You rethink everything.

Kate gives a yank to the zipper and it moves freely. Once she’s done you turn to meet her, still holding your dress up. She hasn’t moved, opting to stand and stare at you.

“Kate I-“

What were you going to say? You hated her? She drove you insane? You weren’t even sure anymore. You take a closer step to her,

“You make me feel frustrated. I’m not sure in what way, but I’m frustrated beyond belief by you”

She she searches your face, saying nothing.

“I’m confused, okay? There..are you happy?Did you get what you wanted out of me?” You’re exasperated with her lack of response.

You wait for a response from her for what feels like forever. Her brows are furrowed as she stares at you. You almost could swear that she was looking into your head. You couldn’t decipher what she was thinking. Her blue eyes dark, consumed in consideration. You’re about to walk away when she finally opens her mouth to say something.

“Do you want to find out exactly how I frustrate you?”

She’s close. Closer than you’ve ever been. She’s close and the air is tense, like a bomb ticking about to go off. Her eyes are on your lips, flicking between them and your eyes. She fiddles with a stray piece of hair resting over your shoulder.

“Kate what does that mea-“

She’s grabbing your face, colliding your lips in an explosion of frustrated passion.

You kiss her back hard, harder than you’ve ever kissed anyone before. A whine escapes your mouth. You’re fighting for dominance, and losing pathetically. Your arms are slung over her shoulders. Desperately clawing at her hair.

“Yes-“ you gasp for air when she pulls away, “I want to find out so fucking badly “

Atleast two years of tension had just blown up in your face. Two years of tension that you couldn’t name for the longest time, and now you could.

Kate had upset you so much because you liked her. You liked her giddiness for new things, her almost naivety to how non rich people live. You loved the millions of questions she asked Sam. How she teased you, even if it drove you up the wall. This girl drove you insane and you loved it.

She pounces on you, shoving you up against the nearest wall. Biting at your lip, you submit to her. This was a losing game, there was no point to fighting her. Kate would win, like she always did.

You’re panting when she pulls her mouth off of yours, dragging your bottom lip a little with her. Your unzipped dress finally gives way and falls to the floor. Kates eyes meet yours and then look down to the black dress pooled on the floor. She moans a little, seeing you in just your bra and underwear.

She’s kissing down your neck, leaving little bites in her wake and you’re breathless. Head spinning over the predicament at hand.

“You think I’m insufferable, but..” she trails off, planting a kiss on your collarbone. Her eyes flick up to yours, looking at you through dark lashes.

“The most insufferable thing is how insanely horny you’ve made me all night”

Your breath catches in your throat at her confession. She kisses down the valley of your breasts, her hands gripping your hips. You moan at her actions. A kiss to your ribs, to your stomach, to just above your underwear.

“Kate..”, your hands are caught in her black waves.

“What Princess? No snappy comebacks now?”

Another moan from your mouth. The nickname slips from her mouth so effortlessly, like she had been just waiting to call you it. She was right though, you had nothing to say for once. You looked down at her, Kate’s mouth mere inches from your aching cunt.

She smirks at you, hooking two fingers around the waistband of your underwear.

“Should I take these off?” She asks so innocently. She punctuates her words with a tug on the band. Her blue eyes burn into yours. You nod your head.

“Words please” she’s playing a game with you. Dangling your pleasure right in front of you.

You don’t want to give her the verbal satisfaction. She is still Kate Bishop after all. And she still presses all your buttons. You press your lips into a thin line and stick your chin up hoping she gets the hint. You are not going to use your words. intertwining your fingers with her hair, you give a harsh tug in an effort to show her what you want. Kate moans.

It makes you wetter.

“Oh and I’m the one who’s a spoiled brat” she lets go of your underwear,snapping it back in place and standing at her full height.

“Kate..” you pout at her jutting your lower lip out at her. She wipes her thumb over your lip, keeping it there. She forces you to keep your eyes on her.

You admire her. The freckle that seems to be right under her right eye. The way her eyes are lined with a darker blue than the rest. Her already kiss swollen lips. She’s close to you as she supports herself against the wall. You reach out, running your hand down her abs, almost letting your fingers reach the top button of her slacks. Kate grabs your hand and holds it in place.

“You knew what you were doing tonight” she smirks at you. You look at her through half lidded eyes and smile.

Kate laughs a little at you. It’s crazy hot.

“Sitting on my lap all night,” she removes your hands from her abs, holding them together in front of you, “in that little dress, clinging to me”

She leans close to your ear and whispers in a low voice,

“I am going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk”

“In your dreams, Bishop”

You had finally found your voice, her charm had worn off. She laughs again. Looking your face up and down.

You’re whining as she crashes your lips together. It’s messy. Teeth clacking here and there, Kate’s hands grabbing at your ass . You’re grabbing at her back, leaving indents where your nails meet her pale skin.

“And everyone at HQ is going to know that you let Kate bishop, the girl you hate, ruin you” That ignited something in you. Your ongoing feud was no secret, and having everyone know you fucked your feelings out was a little too tempting.

She’s kissing down your neck, sucking bruises that will last longer than you want them to.

“And what if I fuck you?”, You pant, grabbing at the back of Kate’s neck.

“I’d like to see you try”

Kate grabs your ass, picking you up quickly and moving you to the nearest bed. She’s reaching behind you to undo your bra.

“Hardly seems fair that I’m almost fully naked

And you still have your pants on”

Kate snorts at your remark, popping the back of your bra and removing it from your body swiftly. Your nipples perk up at the cold air of the hotel room. The metal bars in them glinting in the light, catching Kates eye. She looks at them, briefly licking her lips, and then back to you.

“Is this what you want?”

Kate stares into your eyes as she undoes the top button of her pants. She steps out of them, leaving her in just the matching lace bra, underwear and and her black button up.

“ shirt off too, please” you sit up, batting your eyes at her and jutting out your lower lip in a pout. She shakes her head as she reaches to take the button up off .

“Now you have manners…but remember.. IM the spoiled brat here” she rolls her eyes and throws the bunched up black shirt at you.

You catch it and toss it off the bed, welcoming Kate back as she crawls her way on top of you. She kisses you again , letting her hands explore down your chest. She kneads on your boobs, grabbing fistfuls of each.

You moan into her mouth, pushing your chest into her hands more.

“Eager much?” She pulls away, letting her breathe fan across your face.

“No chance” you laugh at her, your hands grasp both sides of her face as she leans over you. She rolls her eyes at you again, letting one of her hands stroke down to your nipple, where she takes the bar and gives a sharp tug.

You inhale through your teeth holding back a moan, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

She gives another tug, this time flicking her thumb over the bud of your nipple. She keeps her eyes locked with yours, smirking at you. She’s expecting you to show some sort of reaction.

Your chest lurches forward, seeking more friction from her calloused hands.

The damp spot in your underwear continues to grow as you rub your legs together in an effort to soothe the ache that’s ever growing in your cunt.

She glances down at the movement and looks back to you while biting her lip.

Kate lets her hand travel from your tit, down your stomach and ending right above the elastic to your underwear.

“This where you want me?” One finger slides its way under. You turn your head to the side, not wanting to confirm you wanted her fingers. Lips pressed into a fine line, you say nothing.

She huffs and leans forward, kissing her way up your neck.

“Cmon…you know it’ll feel good” , two fingers push farther down.

You’re holding back moans. Noises only Kate Bishop has been able to elicit from you and you haven’t even fucked yet.

She’s so warm and inviting. You know it would feel so good if she just stuffed her fingers in your cunt and fucked you stupid. But you can’t let her win. She’s always winning, running circles around you.

Kate bites at your earlobe, those two fingers dangerously close to your throbbing cunt.

You whine,not being able to contain the kind anymore. The scent of her lavender body wash looming around you, clouding your better judgement.

“Kate…” you whine her name out. Kate moans at the sound of your voice, needy and desperate.

“Yeah?” She asks, her thumb stroking gentle circles on your skin, a smile on her lips as they’re pressed to your neck.

How could the girl you had hated for so long be treating you so good right now?

“Please…” you whisper out, letting your resolve break.

Kate bishop had won this round.

Those wandering fingers abruptly enter your pussy, earning a loud moan from your mouth.

You jolt upwards, back arching and pressing your nipples against Kate’s lace covered chest. She continues to thrust her fingers in and out of you, occasionally letting her thumb brush up against your clit.

“I told you it’d feel good” she whispers into your ear. You moan at her words, she’s right. It feels fucking fantastic. She’s managing to hit all the spots that make you see stars. Your head leans back, making eye contact with the ceiling as Kate picks up her speed. She’s curling her fingers as she sucks marks down your neck, eventually leaving a few on your breasts.

You grab at her head, threading your fingers into her hair and pull her face into you chest. Kate gives a groan at that as she latches onto one of your nipples. She slides the bar in your nipple around with her tongue, making you groan loudly and tug at the strands of dark hair clutched in your hand.

She continues her ministrations at your core. Every press of her fingers has your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“I’m gonna..”

“You’re gonna what? Cum?” Kate laughs as she pulls off of you. You nod frantically at her. She’s slamming her fingers into you at this point and you’re a moaning mess, only wanting to finish.

Kate’s moving up closer to your face. She presses her forehead against yours, your noses grazing the other.

“Cum on my fingers then”

She thrusts her fingers into your cunt, your juices leaking down her arm.

“Shit, shit Katie”, you’re grabbing at the hand that’s thrusting in and out of you, curling upwards towards her.

Her thumb brushed against your clit, a purposeful circle and you’re unraveling into her.

Her lips find yours again, silencing the pathetic moans that you’re making. Kate moans into you as you finish on her fingers, exactly how she wanted you to. She works you through your orgasm for a moment, giving a few gentle thrusts before pulling her fingers out of you.

You wince a little as her fingers exit you, not letting the grip you had on her wrist go. Kate gently removes your hand from her wrist as she sits up. She gives it a light kiss before she turns her own hand towards her mouth.

Kate locks eyes with you as she slides her tongue up her wrist, collecting your slick before inserting her fingers in her own mouth. She moans a little as she wraps her lips around her fingers, sucking your juice from her fingers for a second before releasing them with a slight ‘pop’.

You blink a couple times, panting. Kate looks at you, and smiles a bit. A cocky, all knowing smile.

“Enjoy the show?” She smirks as she leans back towards you. Her dark hair falls around your face, pieces of it tickling your cheeks.

“Kate Bishop…” you pant a little, looking up at her, “I didn’t know you were such…”, your hands start to explore the plane of her stomach, touching the toned abs that lay there,

“…..a whore”, you smile at her. Your tone laced with malice as you spit out your last word.

Kate scoffs a bit, stopping your hand before you could get your fingers under the waistband of her underwear.

“I could say the same about you, based off the noises you were making”

She gets off the bed, but not before tweaking the jewelry that sat pretty in your nipples. You jump a little, moaning in pleasure.

“Brat”, she says, flashing a smile and laughing slightly before going to her bag and beginning to dig through it.

You sit up a little, admiring the way her purple underwear fits her ass. Your mind wanders to all the times you checked it out during training. God damn Kate bishop and her too tight leggings.

Kates digging goes on for a little too long and your curiosity begins to peak.

“Is your dick in there or something?” You half joke, wanting to know what she was looking for. You laid there, completely exposed to the too cold AC of the hotel room. You already missed Kate being in the bed with you.

“Yeah…Or something” Kate mumbles quietly. The sound of her zipping up her bag catches your attention.

“Kate is that a fucking strap on?”

“You never know when duty is gonna call!”

You sit up slightly, watching as Kate steps into her harness. The purple silicone dick bobs in between her legs, and you swallow slightly.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”, Kate joins you back on the bed, crawling over you.

“I know I am, and you’re obsessed with me because of it”, she kisses up your neck. Her confidence oozing out of her, you could almost swear you were breathing it in and letting it cloud your mind.

You grab at the ponytail at the back of her head, pulling her mouth off your neck. Kate gives a groan before her blue eyes meet yours.

“I told you I was going to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk. I’m a lady of my word”

Kate teases your entrance with her strap, letting it run through your folds.

“Shit Kate..” you half moan half whine as she positions her dick.

“God say that again” Kate moans into your ear . She begins to push her strap into you and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

You’re pulling on her ponytail, pulling her head away from you when all Kate wants to do is mark you, claim you as hers.

“Fucking shit Kate..” you repeat, more enthusiastically this time as Kate’s strap finally enters you, fully.

She fills you to the hilt of her strap, your hips almost flush with each another. The base of her dick rubbing sweetly against her clit.

She whines a little, resting her head into the crook of your neck.

“Aw poor baby, do you want to swap?” You coo sarcastically as you rub her back, finding your way to the clasp of her bra.

Kate gives an annoyed groan, punctuated by a hard thrust into your pulsating cunt.

You yelp in surprise, popping the clasps of her bra, watching the straps fall loose around her shoulders. Kate pulls out again and thrusts her hips once more,relishing in the friction she also receives from the motion.

“Just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?” Kate begins to take off her bra, discarding it to wherever your clothes also lay.

Your hands find her nipples, twisting and pinching them as she snaps her hips into you.

You lean up, swallowing the beautiful whines she’s giving to you as you play with her tits with your mouth.

She kisses you back, letting herself submit to your suddenly surge of dominance.

“So fucking hot..” you mutter as you pull away, letting your eyes drift to Kate’s lust blown pupils, down to where her dick was splitting you in two.

“Could say the same about you” Kate watches your tits bounce with each thrust she gives. Her eyes following the shiny jewelry in your tits. she leans down a bit, taking one of your nipples in her mouth. Her teeth close in one of the bars and she pulls every so gently.

You’re moaning as you grasp at her back, letting your dominant facade fall and letting Kate have the full power once again.

Her hips are slamming into yours, practically humping you like a dog in heat. Your legs wrap around her hips, attempting to put you two closer than you already were.

Kates whining, actually whining. You can see sweat drip down the side of her face, baby hairs sticking to her forehead.

You’re in no better shape. Your back arched up, legs locked around Kate’s waist, sweat traveling down your back and into your asscrack.

“I’m gonna fucking-“ you moan, your sentence not even getting finished as Kate reaches down to rub your clit while continuing her ministrations with her hips.

“Me too…oh my god me too” Kate’s going hard now, chasing her own high. Her thrusts are spastic and uncalculated.

The floodgates open in a minute, and you’re gushing all over Kates cock, and hand once again. A whining, moaning, drooling mess.

She works you through your high, only taking a few more pumps until she’s also finishing. Kate gives a few weak pumps, almost pushing you towards overstimulation before she falls on top of you, leaving her strap on inside.

She gives you a few weak kisses on your chest as you run your fingers through her hair, releasing it from the ponytail.

Kate reached down to remove her strap, making you suck in a breath of air as you an adjust to the feeling.

Once the harness and silicone dick had been removed, she sighs, content as she sinks her face into your chest, fingers rubbing small circles in your stomach.

“I still don’t like you, you know that, right?”, you break the silence first, still playing with Kates dark locks.

“Mhm, and I hate you “ Kate smiles lazily up at you.

You roll your eyes at her. Kate turns to look at you, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Do you think we have to put this on the mission report to Sam?”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kate bishop simp nation, I have returned.

My apologies, this is not proofread in the slightest lmao

[heartfullofleeches]

Hybrid Cafe Yans

A list of the hybrid yans since it's been a minute-. The first name is their real name and the second is the nicknames reader has given them. The only exclusions are Saber and Wistera who haven't been nicknamed yet, and Doc and Trick who have never been official named

Saber [he/him] - Model/Influencer Catboy who got saved from the ran by Cafe reader on their first shift. Very snobby and feels entitled to most if not all of reader's time being their first customer

Clyde/Spot [he/him] - A lonely delivery rabbit. Shy and Sweet. Bounced around in the foster care system as a child and has severe abandonment issues steaming from it which later on resulted in him dying his fur white to be more appealing to others. His nickname comes from Reader finding a spot on his ear since it had been a while since his last dye job

Shanna/Bo [She/Her] - Reader's sheep girl coworker. Extremely clumsy and timid, but also plays up the act to lean on reader's shoulder. The daughter of a local club owner who is still coming to terms with her recent coming out.

Pauline/Belle [She/Her] - The ex head chef at the cafe. A hot headed cow woman with a soft spot for reader who's what keeps her crawling back to the city from her cozy new life on her farm

Robbie/Honey [They/Them] - A bumble bee who as their name implies is sweet as can be..... on the surface. Robbie is one of if not the most willing to beat others into submission for Reader. Their mother is the head of a massive company who gifted them the entire apartment complex they live in. Later moves Reader into one of them who pays next to nothing for rent

Trick [They/Them] - A tired Crow enjoying early retirement/hiatus from their work. Greatly enjoys relaxing with a cup of tea and gifting reader presents from the various regions they've traveled to over the years. Works as a teacher as a secondary occupation which slowly drains them as it reminds them of the empty nest they have at home

Asher/Prince [he/him] - Hyperactive Hyena boy ready and willing to throw hands for reader. Their kindness helped him get over his fear of humans after years of bullying for having a human father and a shorter stature because of it, and being wrongfully arrested when attacked by bullies and choosing to fight back

Wisteria [She/Her] - Plant woman of unknown origin. Owns a flower shop not too far from the cafe and supplies it with bouquets for their displays which she uses to eavesdrop on reader. Soft spoken and formal

Doc [They/Them] - Leech Hybrid med student. Extremely giggly and carefree. Always tries to give Reader check ups which certainly aren't ploys to obtain vials of their sweet, sweet blood. Has difficults walking on land and wears leg braces for the weak muscles in their legs

Scout/Bear [he/him] - Wolf hybrid. Doesn't like to talk much about himself, but lived with his grandmothers and dogs in the wilderness before they all passed away. Stoic and grouchy, but weak to soft praise and touches

The manager - A deer hybrid mentioned briefly in the Christmas special. Not much to them now, but I'd really like to use them eventually

[yanaleese]

◈ Love Me, Kidnap Me, and Love Me More ◈

Yandere! OC Karma x Calculative! Gender Neutral! MC

VER EN ESPAÑOL. MUY PRONTO

Synopsis: You put blood, sweat, and tears into your work. Little did you know, your secret admirer, Marka does it too.

Content warning: Yandere and literally anything that goes with it, violence, hypnosis (not on reader), drugs (implication), and yes there will be a Part 2

PLEASE SUPPORT PALESTINE WITH MONEY, OR WITH A CLICK

Scores, talents, personas.

THESE are the factors that classify the education system. Although not immaculate, it serves its purpose - to send vulnerable people into the workforce, and devour them whole. Their livelihoods, their time, and the minuscule bits of energy left inside of them.

But there are some who are born with advantages, and some who have to work their ass off for it.

I, unfortunately, have the latter. Things don’t come easy, instant, or perfect. I am actually quite idle, I enjoy the freedom of gaining knowledge and insight. Uniquely, tried and tested knowledge that is critical for survival.

And that, is how I manage my late nights. By listening to “Advice to Survive” with its host, McGregory Callahan.

Back in the 60s, he was a CWO-4 Navy Seal officer, a rank given to an exclusive few. And now that he’s retired, he humbly shares his advice to the community, and showcases guests every now and then to keep the show alive. But majority prefers to listen to his voice, which I strongly agree with.

“And so, ladies and gents…” His voice was smooth and husky. “It’s time to sign off, folks. Stay safe, and always remember…” I chuckled, saying his closing lines with him.

“Live, not die, and try to survive. Thanks everyone.”

As the radio chipped off, the sun poured its rays into my window, as if the heat wasn’t enough. I groaned, my eyes leading me to my collection of “wake-up” capsules. Tempted, and deceived, I slithered my way over to it, dropping another 2 or 3 in my mouth.

I grumbled. Regret seeped into my veins, my body woozy and tense. Once again, I stayed up.

And of course, it happened to be a Monday morning; where I had a morning class. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” I began stuffing my bag with my utensils, paperwork, snacks. I could never get used to this shit. “I hope nobody pisses me off for the rest of the day.”

◈

“The bell. Ugh, the damn bell. Never have I wanted to smash that thing into pieces.” You could barely make out the crowd, more or less. Not even your best friend’s face.

“Wait. You had a rough night…again?” Heidi glared, her eyes were practically glowing with concern.

“Maaaaaaybe.” You slurred, taking baby steps to your seat. “Good thing my seat mate is a quiet kid.”

Speak of the devil, Marka entered the room, his footfalls silent as he strolled to your direction. His timing was impeccable.

“Good morning, Marka.” You mumbled, your eyes not meeting his. Besides, there were no eyes thanks to his bangs.

“Heh…” In response, Marka gave an exciting grin, happily waving a good morning back to you. How he could be energized on a Monday morning, was a complete mystery to you.

Actually, a lot of him is shrouded in mystery. Or rather, in suspicion.

Other than the weird name, Marka was supposedly from the countryside of Honduras, Tegucigalpa. His parents were also from Honduras, and he worked as a pizza delivery driver, and stayed at a friend’s apartment for shelter, with the purpose of redoing college thrice to get a degree. While some of this is true, some of it didn’t add up.

For example, his idioms. Sometimes he would say “Puchica” , “Chero”, “Chivo” - and when I looked them all up, the common denominator was El Salvador. He said his parents came from Honduras, so how can this be true?

“[Y/N].”

Then him, being the pizza delivery driver. You don’t often order pizza, but you’ve never thought that pizza could smell so shitty. You could remember him rushing to one of your afternoon classes, and instead of smelling like oil and grease, he smelt like weed. What the fuck???

“Hello? [Y/N]?”

Plus, the fact that he is redoing the course a third time. And yet, every single exam he is perfectly scoring an average mark. He also ends before everyone else, as if he has all the time in the world.

That’s not normal.

Though you’ve never confronted Marka about this, you preferred to remain silent. Times are harsh, and you weren’t willing to stretch out a hand when you could barely help yourself.

But there is NO way that you’re befriending someone as suspicious as him.

“[Y/N]!!!” Heidi whisper-shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“[Y/N], please answer-“ Mr. Dimmy paused, clearing his throat. “Actually. On second thought, please see me after class. Thank you.”

You bit my lip, letting it bleed. Fuck. You spaced out again.

“Sir I-“

“No buts, no coconuts.”

While cursing yourself internally, you decided to take out your vent book out of your bag, only to be stopped by Mr. Dimmy once more.

“[Y/N]. Can you please answer the question on the board for me, please?”

Shit, you just opened your bag.

“Give me a moment-“

“[Y/N].”

Clenching your fists, you gave a plastic smile. It was understandable where he was coming from, since he didn’t want his star pupil to daydream for the second time.

“My bad, Sir. Hopefully I’ll get this right.”

As you were busy solving the equation, Marka decided to do you a favor and close up your bag. So by the time you came back, Marka grinned, hoping for a thanks to come out of it. But you decided to ignore the kind gesture, continuing to pay attention to the board. You had enough attention for one day.

◈

If there was one thing you loved, it was clocks. It was nice to know how the time passed, whether it was rapid or abnormally slow. And of course, it was slow.

“[Y/N], this has happened on multiple occasions.” Mr. Dimmy rubbed his temples, exhausted from having the same conversation with you. “We, as staff, made it clear that you can take days off.”

“I’m very sorry Sir, but I can’t do that-“

“[Y/N], enough with the excuses. You are not enough getting enough sleep, and it’s affecting your concentration.”

Scores, talents, personas: nothing on this conversation applied to that. Kindness was a pain in the ass.

“And so, I’m going to ask the dean to personally give you a suspension. A whole week suspension.”

You had to hold your tongue. Why do you have to do triple the work???

“Sir. I’m behind on what I need to cover. I’m begging you, please just let it slide.”

“But [Y/N], you are three weeks ahead. Taking a week off is enough right now. Trust me.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 9:47, the minute hand approximately reaching the next minute.

“If I see you Tuesday afternoon, I will personally escort you outside. That is all.”

Rubbing your eyes, you ran to the top of the stairs, before making yourself out. You couldn’t believe what just happened.

“[Y]-[Y/N]…” It was Heidi.

“Heidi. I’m done for the day, so I’m going home. Text me later if you’re curious.” Your demands were quick and stern.

Poor Heidi snuggled her books, her expression shaping into pity and guilt. If only you could just take a break.

◈

“Giggles, after giggles. These fucking cuches don’t know when to quit it, don’t they?”

“Markaaaa…” She snorted, sounding exactly just like he called her: a pig. “Teach me a little Spanish, no?~ ❤️”

Marka shook his head, his face clearly showing discomfort.

“Come on, we wanna hear it! Maybe we can fuck it up, you know?”

Damn that Rico bastard. He never knew how to read a room.

“I said no.” Marka ran his fingers through his bangs, revealing the swirling darkness within his eyes. “Now learn to be good little shits, I’m in a bad mood.”

Immediately, the entire group stood completely still. Before seconds later, horrifying shrieks escaped people’s lips. Some froze in horror, sweating profusely. Others just ran away from Marka, while some fought with him. Luckily, thanks to his physique he could handle his attackers pretty clearly.

“Ha…shame…” He continued to hit Rico with every punch, starting to see blood oozing out of him. Marka couldn’t help but grin in sadistic glee. “This hypnosis is always pure luck for me.”

Grabbing the leg of one of his classmates. Marka twisted, fractured, and even jumped on her leg, which was perfectly in sync with his words.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” Marka cursed out loud, growling in frustration. Every time he thought about you, the feeling wouldn’t go away. “I just wanted to do a good deed. Why. Won’t. They. Love. Me.”

Hearing the classmate’s sharp cry, Marka kicked the person away from him, heading to your locker. It was encased in a shitload of locks, all of them personally made by yourself. You knew how to be efficient and useful.

Too bad Marka knew lockpicking a bit too well. “It’s been a while since my last rejection…so let’s see what’s here now-“

With a clink, he guided his fingers to first few letters he made….only to find them….

Crushed.

“….”

He should’ve been used to this by now. The dust, the grime, the dead spiders. After finally getting a fresh new locker, it was understandable that you cleaned up the space.

But you didn’t. You decided to make your old locker your new dumpster bag instead - including his love letters.'

His scarred thumb clutched the pink envelope, or the crushed up ball that it was. He could remember the time he had to go off on business, missing college for an entire week. He had to stay low due to a shot out, which resulted him gaining a major injury in the shoulder and his left hand. He didn’t mind the injuries due to past experiences, but he was…depressed. Marka couldn’t see anyone, neither be online lest he got found out. It was a decision that both he and José made for his safety.

And so, to satiate his loneliness, he wrote to you. Even though his left hand was twitching in pain, he wrote. Even though his brain was telling him to stop because of the pain; he wrote. He wrote because he knew that you gave him the happiness, the hope that he needed for this world. Yes, you were flawed…but with each other, the two of you could heal one another’s scars. Right?

“….Ha….”

His hands shook in silent rage as dark droplets dropped on to the paper. I’m sure you didn’t know any better, it was simply a misunderstanding. Yes, yes - it was miscommunication.

It was understandable, since he didn’t make it clear. He didn’t flirt with you since it wasn’t your thing. I guess the letters weren’t either.

Maybe he’d have to try something…a bit more drastic.

“I need to know…do they love me…? Do they not? Maybe….”

Clutching the paper in his chest, he started chuckling to himself. No, grinning madly as he stared at the locker in front of him, his face contorted into something twisted and grotesque.

“Maybe it’s time I should pay your house a visit, hmm? ❤️~.”

NOTES:

Cuche = Means pig in Salvadorian slang. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ qᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴋᴀʀᴍᴀ, ᴊᴏsᴇ́ ᴏʀ ʜᴇɪᴅɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ɪɴʙᴏx.

[theschizotypalsolilquy]

You're blocked, whoever the fuck you are.

Tldr

I've got more important things to do than listen to yall repeat the same shit only using different words over and over and over again.

Go get laid or something. Yall are too invested in the life of someone yall don't know personally.

I run this blog for fun. Because I'm retired, and when I ain't getting dick or pussy, gaming, or reading, it's nice to be around like-minded people.

Yall been using the same excuses for years because you can't handle the possibility that a hot, tatted, famous man is in love with another hot, tatted, famous man. So much so they enlisted together so they wouldn't be apart. Had to take a couples trip to an exclusive couples retreat before they left for 18 months. Has been giving each other hickeys and biting ears since at least 2017. Been stealing away into rooms, so much so the other members don't know whose room is whose. The all nighter friends who for some reason can't tell you what they do all night. Had a shared hotel room with a fucking see through shower. Entering an apartment and saying long time no see when they were just together at a concert earlier. Then had to go and spend white day together after another concert.

Damn, you'd think they were in love or something. The fucking gay of it all.

[sunny44]

What about us (Part 3)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of retirement

Summary: deep talks and discussions about Lewis’ future.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The days that followed the Monaco Grand Prix were a mix of tranquil moments and shared laughter. Lewis, seemingly rejuvenated by his unexpected victory, began to engage more with Harley and me. The burden that had weighed on his shoulders seemed to dissipate, replaced by a newfound lightness.

One evening, after putting Harley to bed, Lewis and I found ourselves on the balcony again, the city below us bathed in the soft glow of streetlights.

"I never expected to win that race," he admitted, his eyes fixed on the distant lights. "But being on the podium... I felt something different this time."

I leaned against the railing, watching him closely.

"Different how?" He hesitated, then met my gaze.

"I realized that my identity isn't exclusively defined by Formula 1. Even though people might know me just as a driver, I feel like I'm more than that. There's more to life, more to me. I was so caught up in the pursuit of success and winning again that I forgot about other aspects of living."

"Like what?"

"The woman I love and our daughter." He smiled, and I sat on his lap as we embraced.

A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea, and I felt a subtle shift in the air, as if transformation were settling into our lives.

"You know you're much more than the Mercedes driver, right?" He looked at me and nodded. "You're a great person, always supporting those you love, putting others' needs before yours without resentment. And above all, you're the best father Harley could have. So, never define yourself solely as a Formula 1 driver because you're so much more than that."

"Thank you for that; you don't know how important it is for me to hear you say that." He tucked a strand of hair that fell on my face behind my ear. "I don't need much, just my girls."

…

In the days that followed, Lewis began exploring more interests beyond racing and his usual routine. He joined my work events, attended Harley's school performances, took her to the park and spent afternoons playing with her and Roscoe, returning home sweaty, tired, and hungry.

On a weekend, we decided to take a spontaneous trip to the countryside outside London, away from the streets and the bustling life of Monaco. Surrounded by nature, we had a moment of peace, just watching the trees, feeling the breeze on our faces, and enjoying family time before the second part of the racing season resumed.

As we walked through a sunlit field, Lewis turned to me with a sincere expression.

"I've been thinking about what comes next. For us."

I listened, feeling a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

"I want to be there for Harley, for you. These past few weeks where I could be her dad 100% of the time, driving her to school and spending the whole day with her, made me realize that I want this to be more recurring in my life. But I also want to explore this new chapter, whatever it brings."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means I'm considering stepping back from racing full-time and embracing a different pace of life."

His words hung in the air, and I sensed the significance of the moment. It was a crossroads, a juncture where our paths could diverge or converge.

"Are you sure?"

"I’m not, actually."

"You know you don't have to stop for our sake."

"But I feel that because of this, I haven't spent enough time with you guys." He looked at Harley running and laughing with Roscoe. "I feel like I've missed so much of her life and yours during the time we were apart, and I don't want that anymore."

"Love, you didn't miss that time because of your career but because we weren't living together. I know you want to spend more time with us, and we'll figure out how to make that happen. Formula 1 is your life, and..."

"You and Harley are my life." He interrupted me.

"And you're ours, but I don't want you to make this decision without really thinking about it. I don't want you to resent leaving and finding that the quieter life isn't what you imagined. But let's not talk about it now, okay? Let's enjoy the rest of our break, and if, by the end of the season, you still feel the same and want to step back, we'll be here for you. We can navigate this together, and whatever you choose, we'll face it as a family."

Those two weeks were what we needed to relax and sort out our lives, and we decided to live together. We had an open conversation about our future, and one of the things we wanted was to spend more time as a family. As we don't have a typical life, any time we have together, we want to make the most of it.

So, the best thing to do was to move back into the same house. Harley and I moved into Lewis's apartment. In reality, there were still many things left for a complete move. The time we had before Lewis had to travel again was too short, and we could only bring our clothes.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?" I heard her ask as soon as she entered the kitchen.

"He's still sleeping."

"What are you doing?" Her voice was sleepy, and I felt her cling to my legs.

"I'm making a smoothie; do you want one?" She shook her head and reached out her arms.

I picked her up, and I continued preparing the smoothies. Somehow, Harley fell asleep in my arms amid the noise of the blender.

"Good morning." I heard his husky voice and felt him hug me from behind.

"Good morning."

"Want to give get to me?" I agreed since my arm was numb, and she almost woke up, but I think she felt it was her dad and just hugged him more.

"I missed this so much."

"What?"

"Waking up, and you're the first person I see in the morning." I smiled and gave him a peck, serving the smoothies in glasses.

"I missed this too." I handed him his glass, and he started drinking.

"And you know what's even better?"

"What?"

"The fact that this is the first time we're living together as parents."

That was true; when I found out about the pregnancy, we were no longer together, so this was the first time we were living together as a family.

"It's a bit strange, actually."

"How so?"

"It's just been the two of us for so long that it's still hard to believe that we're finally all together." He smiled. "Do you think she's okay with all of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a huge change for her. We understand the situation because we lived it, but Harley is small, and her whole life has been with us living different lives. So, I'm worried that we're so wrapped up in our love bubble that we might be forgetting her feelings."

"I understand, and I completely agree with what you're saying. I can talk to her later if you want me to."

"I'll talk to her." I said, and he agreed.

"Look, I have to catch a flight to Vegas tonight and then after that to Abhu Dhabi and I don't know if you guys want to come with me or…”

"I don't know; I think it's a bit last minute. We'd have to pack our things and hers, and we have to adapt gradually to this. You know she gets really restless when we have to take flights."

"I know; she doesn't like it much." He agreed. "But, as you said, we have all the time in the world, and we can take it easy."

"We really do." He smiled, and as soon as we finished our smoothies, I washed the glasses, and after he took her upstairs and put her on her bed, we spent some time together on the couch since he would have to travel soon.

Bonus Scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Lazy days with my favorite girl”

Tag list: @ironmaiden1313 @myloverjk-blog @leoramage @ricciardosheart

[chaotic-tired-fox]

Okay so my last post blew up so here’s more obscure random Resident Evil facts for y’all!

Part one: here

Part three: here

☠️The white dog you save in Resident Evil 4 is a reference to Hewie the dog in Capcom’s other game Haunting Ground which was released at around the same time the original Resident Evil 4 was. The main character Fiona also shares resemblance to Ashley.

☠️ Chris and Claire’s parents both died in a tragic car crash said to be so bad they could only be identified by their dental records

☠️ Jill’s infection (and later cure) of the T-Virus significantly slowed down her ageing

☠️ Chris is the only main character without a clear romantic interest (Leon with Ada, Claire with Leon and Jill with Carlos)

(Edit: A few people have said Claire and Steve but Steve was only 17 at the time of his death so no I don’t care how much chemistry they might’ve had, he was a minor and Claire was 19)

☠️ In the original RE2 Jill had a picture of a man on her desk, in the remake it is changed to a dog instead.

☠️ Barry Burton is one of the only characters in the series to actually retire, moving up to Canada with his family. He and Claire still stay in contact.

☠️ Leon’s signature handgun is actually a modified Samurai Edge he named ‘Silver Ghost’ made by Joseph Kendo the brother of Robert Kendo you meet in RE2 and RE3. Originally the gun was created for Barry Burton but given to Leon instead.

☠️ One of Joseph Kendo’s books on firearms can be found in Ethan’s house at the beginning of Village.

☠️ Capcom’s other zombie series Dead Rising actually has a few references to Resident Evil in them though my favourite is a restaurant called Jill’s Sandwiches

☠️ Luis Sera was apart of Umbrella’s sixth laboratory in Europe which oversaw the creation of Nemesis.

☠️ A detail not many know about Hunk is that he possesses two hidden blades mounted to his wrists almost exactly like the ones seen in Assassins Creed

☠️ Jessica and Raymond are two villains from Revelations that are not only still alive but in possession of a T-Abyss sample and haven’t been seen in the timeline since 2005 what happened to them and the sample is a complete mystery.

☠️ Another storyline that hasn’t been explained yet is Natalia from Revelations 2 and if she may or may not be possessed by the consciousness of Alex Wesker

☠️ It’s implied in the Shadow of Rose DLC that Mia Winters lost custody of Rose sometime in her teenage years

☠️ Chris can canonically pull off front flips whereas Leon can backflip

☠️ Lobo, Tundra and Night Howl of the Hound Wolf Squad actually have little smiley face stickers on the back of their helmets whereas Canine and Umber Eyes do not.

☠️ In every main series game he’s been in (RE2,RE4,RE6) Leon has had to crawl through a sewer

☠️ All of the cgi movies as well as Infinite Darkness are considered completely canon to the story.

☠️ Upon the release of Operation Raccoon City, players could participate in an online ARG which gave away exclusive files on the characters including a psychological evaluation of Hunk which is the most information we’ve ever gotten on his character. The link to it can be found: Here

☠️ Wesker’s British accent was the result of each of his voice actors attempting to mimic the last. This was corrected in the remake of Resident Evil 4 (sadly)

☠️ You can interact with the play park in RE6 with Chris, Piers and Ada and each of them go down the slide differently

☠️ The HWS member that tackles Ethan at the reservoir is Canine and the one standing next to Chris is Night Howl.

☠️ Night Howl is also the author of the laptop reports you find in the Church and the secret underground area where the Mutamycete is in the village.

☠️ Canine is the youngest member of the HWS and the oldest is Umber Eyes

☠️ Lobo from the HWS shares striking similarities to Hunk (Read my full theory on it Here)

☠️ The Duke from Village and The Merchant from RE4 actually know each other and The Duke describes them as ‘old friends’

☠️ Sergei Vladimir, leader of the UCBS is the tallest human character in the franchise standing at 6’7.5”

☠️ Thanks to the Resident Evil 4 remake, Leon can now both speak and read Spanish

☠️ In the Heavenly Island comic, the man Chris sends to assist Claire is Parker Luciani from Revelations

☠️ In RE8 the Village is heavily isolated from the outside world thanks to Miranda and thus has remained primitive but Heisenberg had his own arrangements with the Duke for regular newspapers and cigars from the outside.

☠️ Wesker actually met Claire once while he was still leading STARS. He described her as a ‘lovely girl.’

☠️ That being said Claire swears more than any other main character (Chris, Leon, Jill)

☠️ Chris and Claire have matching leather jackets that both say ‘Made In Heaven’ on the back which is a reference to Queen (the band)

☠️ Although it doesn’t appear in the remake, Barry’s ‘Jill sandwich’ line is considered canon and referenced by his daughter Moira in Revelations 2

☠️ Revelations for the 3DS was so infamous for having its text misspelled on the side of the case Capcom had to issue replacement sleeves for all the buyers who had one.

☠️ Heisenberg calling Chris a ‘Boulder punching asshole’ means his feats in RE5 either made the newspaper or someone told him about it personally (one of the hounds maybe?)

☠️ Expanding upon an earlier fact of mine, Chris knows 7 fighting styles which are: Airforce Combatives, Karate, Boxing, Judo, Wrestling, Capoeira and Kali

☠️ Jill also knows 7 fighting styles which are: Modern Army Combatives, Taekwondo, Ju-Jitsu, Gymnastics, Tricking, Lucha Libre and Kali

☠️ Leon knows 6 fighting styles: Taekwondo, Ju-Jitsu, Wrestling, Kali, Krav Maga and Systema

☠️ The reason why there’s no children in the village in Resident Evil 4 is because Saddler’s blood ritual killed them all before the events of the game (that and the developers agreed child enemies would be far too disturbing)

☠️ The developer of the original RE4 suggests that the best snacks to have while playing the game is Diet Coke and lightly salted potato chips (eaten with chopsticks to avoid greasy controller hands)

☠️ Neither Hunk nor anyone in the USS wear Umbrella logo patches (as much as cosplayers tell you otherwise lol)

☠️ In the RE4 remake, Ashley refers to herself as a ‘master of unlocking’ which is a reference to Jill’s title given to her by Barry in the first game

☠️ Chris and Leon were designed to be complete opposites of each other and you can still see that today even with subtle details (Chris punches, Leon kicks. Chris smokes, Leon doesn’t. Leon is flirtatious, Chris is indifferent)

☠️ Wesker’s red eyes glow brighter any time he experiences strong emotions which is why they sometimes shine through his glasses

☠️ Chris’s zippo lighter was actually a gift from Claire given to him when he joined STARS

☠️ Chris can’t read piano sheet music but he can read guitar

☠️ Jill can play the piano

☠️ The story behind the basement music used in the directors cut of the original Resident Evil is so infamous and has a pretty wild story behind it. The music itself is horrendously bad and said to have been composed by a deaf composer but spoiler alert that composer wasn’t deaf at all and instead was fooling the world. The story is insane and I highly recommend checking out this video on it for the full story here

☠️ Beltway from the USS Wolfpack has a metal prosthetic leg

☠️ Beltway also swears more than any other character in Operation Raccoon City

☠️ The original RE4 has more releases than any other Resident Evil game because of its success

☠️ The original RE4 was also planned to be a lot more survival horror based like it’s predecessors but the remake of the original RE didn’t sell as well as intended so the game was reworked to be more action based instead.

☠️ Crimson head zombies were also completely unique to the remake of Resident Evil and also make an appearance in Operation Raccoon City

☠️ Leon’s relationship with Helena is unique in the fact that neither of them are interested in each other and Leon instead views her as a protege because she reminds him of his younger self.

☠️ You cannot shoot the merchant in the RE4 Remake

☠️ During his time working at the Spencer Mansion, Wesker used to take long hikes around the Arklay Mountains

☠️ Mr X isn’t the only Tyrant of his type in fact multiple of him were released around Raccoon City and it’s also implied two separate Mr X’s are encountered during the story of the RE2 remake

☠️ Out of everything, crows are the most effective carriers and spreaders of the T-Virus

☠️ Hunk’s name is actually an acronym that stands for Human Unit Never Killed

☠️ Leon S Kennedy is the only playable character with a middle name, that being Scott (in fact he might be the only character in the franchise with one but don’t quote me on that)

☠️ Originally Leon’s hair was depicted as brown but was later changed to blond which it had stayed as until Vendetta made it brown again. His canon hair colour is usually agreed to be blond however.

☠️ Same goes for Chris’s eye colour which was originally blue (like Claire’s) until they changed it to brown and back to blue again in Village.

☠️ Birkin discovered the Golgotha Virus by accident while experimenting with Lisa Trevor. In the REmake you can see the G Virus tentacles on her back.

☠️ The brand of clothing and gear the Hound Wolf Squad use is a real brand you can buy exact replicas from for Airsoft called Volk Tactical Gear. There logo is printed on HWS weapons in game.

☠️ Ghosts were technically made canon in the Resident Evil universe thanks to 7 and 8 but seem to only relate to the Mold and Mutamycete (You see a ghost girl in 7’s demo/prequel and in 8 Shadow of Rose goes in depth with it)

[slythereen]

Hello, I am new to F1 and Charles is my favorite driver. Today I saw many people mentioning Charles' personal fashion CLACE. This project was blocked by Ferrari? But why? Do other drivers have a personal brand? Can they do what they want? I'm very curious about this. What does it mean now that Charles can wear his own clothes? I would be very grateful if you could reply to me<3

not me scrambling to tumblr to scream about the clace photos only to discover this. anon i am so sorry in advance if this goes off the rails but charles wear his own merch again IS kind of a big deal !!

1. why was clace blocked by ferrari?

i believe charles may have started working on clace and the concept of it while he was still with sauber. i’m not 100% on that timeline. regardless, he stopped developing it while at ferrari and once got asked about it. he said something to the effect that it just wasn’t a good time, but sebastian take-no-shit vettel revealed that actually, ferrari won’t let him (or any driver) have his own clothing line. (note to self: come back to link this interview video) so we know that is the true reason.

as to why, it’s because ferrari has an exclusive clothing partnership with puma. the drivers are allowed to design their “own” shirts for special races (like charles’ monza merch), but they are all still produced and sold by puma. the issue with clace, for ferrari/puma, is that it would not be produced by puma and therefore violates that exclusivity clause.

2. do other drivers have their own brands?

yes! not every team has a fully exclusive partnership. and given the individual contracts of drivers and unique brand circumstances (drivers have their own not-team sponsors as well as team sponsors, who sometimes sponsor them as a driver as well), it can vary. so it may be that ferrari as a team has an exclusive arrangement, but charles as a driver and independent contract may develop his own brand line on the side. that was not the case before (and still, theoretically) but just as an example.

off the top of my head: lando has quadrant, which is his own company/esports that sells merch. he also sells LN4 merch. quadrant is technically independent of him. i actually can’t remember if mclaren has a clothing sponsorship tbh, but he’s been able to have his own brand. similarly, max has vestappendotcom and team redline, both of which are independent organizations (and i believe redline has merch). daniel launched enchanté recently. sebastian didn’t start his good-causes t-shirts until after he retired but he has that brand. so yes, personal branding is also big for drivers are they start to develop their reputation as drivers apart from their teams.

as to whether or not they can do what they want… it really will vary based on the individual contract, but not really. i think lewis probably has the greatest freedom over his reputation and personal brand (he does a LOT outside of racing and is globally famous, “beyond” f1), but he likely still has certain clauses relating to his conduct and how it reflects on mercedes. plus, all of the drivers are bound by the fia’s rules (notably, the non-political stance that all drivers have to abide by).

one example along these lines are the driver’s personal cars. not all of them are really bound to have their own team’s constructor’s cars, i don’t think, but it seems like most drivers either do or they have a car from a related partner or sponsor. i know less about the personal cars tbh. charles has his ferrari pista which he mostly drivers, but he also has several other brands. max has several aston martins (which, while being a distinct team, as a Brand is one of red bull’s sponsors). i don’t know what the haas drivers drive, but i wouldn’t be surprised if they have ferraris (because haas uses ferrari engines).

3. so what does it mean that charles is wearing clace?

it means CHANGE. something is afoot that has changed his contractual obligations regarding puma. this can mean a LOT of things, especially because he just signed with a big talent management company (WME) and because he is wearing clace noticeably and publicly. a lot of his fans know it got shut down by ferrari, so he had to know that people who notice and realize this Means Something.

what does it mean? at the very least, in all of my theories, it means charles’ negotiating power has grown significantly. his personal brand and reputation has power. he is able to get a contract that entitles him to greater personal freedoms and branding outside of his team. that’s mega.

what contract, though? my main theories:

he has resigned with ferrari already with a very favorable contract (that immediately modified his current) that entitles him to greater liberties and likely has several clauses requiring more preferential treatment with car development etc

he has signed with rbr, who are less strict on personal brands (as an energy drink, they can achieve their marketing power based on putting a can in their hand regardless of what they are wearing. their brand is built more on vibes and emotion than on Stuff). this also likely means his contract kicks in sooner than, say, 2025… because otherwise, he’d likely still have to abide by his remaining year on the ferrari contract.

puma is ending their partnership with ferrari and/or ferrari’s sponsorships are shuffling around a bit, so it’s no longer a limitation on the drivers.

i’m sure there could be many other explanations. im sure wondering about what it all means is going to drive me insane.

also: welcome to f1 hell!!! ❤️💙

[xiaq]

How did you and B meet?

I'm sure I've talked about this before, but here's the Official Story from our reception invitations:

Erica met B through their mutual friend G while rock climbing at the Austin greenbelt in April of 2019.

Erica had just purchased a new camera and 80% of the photos she took that day were of B. She shyly sent B the best ones and noted he was a lovely subject. B said, “thanks bro” and used those pictures for his Bumble profile.

It was an auspicious beginning.

At the time, B was living and working in Austin while Erica was a PhD student in Dallas. She often visited “home” to see her parents and climb, so they met up regularly over the next two years.

When the pandemic hit, Erica moved back to Austin to work on her dissertation, and isolated with a small group of climbers that included B. They also started playing D&D together.

Erica’s character was a chaotic neutral half-elf bard who cast spells and cantrips exclusively via limerick. Her go-to solutions to problems they encountered were seduction, inciting political rebellion, befriending monsters, and stabbing.

B played a lawful good half-elf paladin who found Erica’s character extremely vexing.

In real life, however, they had quite a bit in common, and started spending time alone outside of group climbing and D&D meetups. Later, they would discover they had a mutual romantic interest at this point, but neither acted on it since Erica had accepted a visiting professorship in Colorado. She moved in July.

When Erica returned briefly to Austin over spring break the following year, she spent most of her time with B: climbing, hiking, grilling at her parent’s place, and staunchly denying there was anything happening between them even if she wished there was because honestly, mom, he's never shown the slightest bit of interest in me (her father scoffed loudly from the other room).

She decided to move back to Austin at the end of the school year. When B (and G) came to visit her a few weeks before she moved, Erica decided to be brave and make her intentions known. While watching a UFC fight with B on the couch, she tucked her toes, lasciviously, under B’s thigh.

Shockingly, he did not respond to this unequivocal romantic overture. But he did help her remove all the temporary wallpaper on her ugly rental cabinets before they left, so that was nice.

The following month, when Erica moved back to Austin, B asked if she’d like to come over for dinner after climbing. She agreed because she wanted to procrastinate unpacking and also she was slightly in love with him. The following day, he asked if she wanted to have dinner again. She did.

“Wow,” Erica said to her mother that morning, “I guess B is really lonely since G moved. He’s been asking me to hang out with him a lot.”

“You're an idiot,” her mother said.

That night, B asked Erica if she'd ever thought about them dating.

“I’m thinking about it now,” she said, cavalier, suave, blasé, and not nervous at all.

This wasn’t a lie, but she had also thought about it once or twice prior to that moment as well.

“Great,” B said, “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

And Erica said, “Yeah, I’d feel pretty good about that.”

A few weeks later, B casually showed Erica an empty shelf in his bathroom cabinet and an inviting space in his closet and a couple spare drawers in his dresser and she, equally casually, moved in with him.

Over the next year, the apartment’s decor and Erica’s diet improved drastically. They traveled, they climbed, they spent time with each others families. They lived, laughed, loved and reduced, reused, recycled. Shortly after moving into their new house, combining bank accounts, making each other their medical powers of attorney, solidifying their retirement plans, and discussing whether getting married would have tax benefits, they realized most people got engaged before doing…a good portion of those things. So they planned to propose to each other.

Christmas of 2022, they took a road trip across Colorado. B proposed to Erica on the gondola in Telluride; two days later, Erica proposed to B on the Train to Cascade Canyon in Durango. They both said yes.

In August 2023 they will elope, with their dog Deacon as a witness, to Mt. Rainier national park.

In November 2023, they’ll celebrate with their friends and family at a backyard reception that will include food, drinks, swimming, croquet, corn hole, axe-throwing and a bounce house (the axe-throwing and the bounce-house will be on opposite sides of the lawn; if it's cold, the pool will be heated). They hope you’ll come and share their joy with them.

[justaghostingon]

The Cult of the Fox

A Genshin Au based off a dream i had

In an alternate reality where the forest rangers don’t exist - they did once but the acdemia shut them down for one reason or another

Tighnari is being primed to be the next grand sage after his master Nephis can finally retire

Unfortunately for him, Tighnari suffers an excistencial crisis when he realizes this isn’t what he wants to do with his life, and decides to ditch the academia and run off into the forest to live as a hermit

Life as a hermit is pretty good, Tighnari finally gets to interact with the ecosystem he’s been studying, taking notes of how it all works and how the withering has been affecting it

But the problem is this: the people traveling theough it are all idiots who are disrupting everything!

Tighnari keeps having to rescue them, then lecture them on proper forest safety. It should not be this hard to tell mushrooms apart!

What’s worse is that Tighnari’s charisma and common sense leaves such a deep impression that people start seeking him out, getting into more danger just so he can rescue them and give them advice

It seems even in the forest, Tighnari cannot escape his popularity

Naturally this concerns Cyno, whose experience with people living off the grid is almost exclusively the criminals trying to hide from him

So he too seeks tighnari out, only to spend the entire time getting lectured about proper footwear in the rainforest as tighnari makes him makeshift shoes

Cyno leaves, very confused with a new pair of boots

Clearly this man is a master at misdirection. He needs to be better prepared

So he researches Tighnari again, and once again notes that no, he didn’t break a rule, and no, he nephis doesn’t know what happened, no, tighnari didn’t have any kind of concening medical record to explain why when he suddenly up and left.

All in all, he’s back to square one.

Meanwhile, Tighnari has discovered he has neighbors. Now he can’t see these neighbors, but he can see proof that they were there. It appears aranara are real after all

He mentions this to one of his most common rescuees, (a man whose returned to thr jungle no less than 25 times, and always makes the stupidest mistakes, tighnari didn’t even know there were 25 crocodile pits a man could step in) who instantly takes it as truth

Thus this rescuee, and head of the hermit tighnari fanclub, takes this news to the other fans, and they all start spreading it around as gospel

People start leaving things for aranara like they used to whne they were kids, it becomes a whole spiritual movement, focusing on faith, nature conservation, and crutially, a rejection of the acdemia’s rigid way of thinking

The academia does not like this, and so punt Cyno at the problem again like he’s a pokie ball.

Cyno is conciderably alarmed by the “cult” but he still can’t find anything damning on tighnari. If anything he seems more like an oblivious figurehead. A very handsome, and charming figurhead.

A charming figurehead thst happily goes on and on about his discoveries about thr withering and aranara…and oh no. He’s falling for the trap isn’t he?

Regaining his senses, Cyno confronts tighnari, and upon his confusion, deems him completely innocent, and warns him about people using him

He also leaves promising to come visit and play TCG, cause Tighnari’s had no one to play with and that is a crime

Concerned about what his so called fan club have been doing, Tighnari leaves his forest to head to their headquarters in the nearest village hoping to smooth things over and put a stop to all this nonsence

A huge crowd comes to hear him speak

Tighnari gives them all a lecture about following others blindly, deliberately walking into dangerous areas without protection, and…did they ever think about bow their actions were affecting the environment?

He leaves the meeting thinking he’s solved the whole thing, but in reality he’s just made it worse.

Because now the fan club has a goal: a goal to preserve their beloved hermit’s forest at all costs

Tighnari wakes up from his hut to find s whole crowd of eager people begging him to teach them how to properly takr care of the forest

And its not like tighnari can refuse that right? Teaching is one of the few things he misses from the academia.

Thus does Tighnari’s cult become the next generation of forest rangers, to the great confusion of the academia and sumeru as a whole

Tighnari doesn’t mind. He likes this way better than being a sage

The end

[royalsweetteaa]

Timeless lovin’ - Pt. 1

Pairing: 40s/CATFA!Steve Rogers x present!reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - The following story contains: explicit smut (not in this chapter), angst, fluff, developing feelings/slow burn, spoilers, alternative reality.

Pt. | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Summary: Steve left for Peggy in the past, and you were determined to travel back in time and get answers after he left your relationship of 4 years behind him just like that. You get a little ahead of yourself and travel past where your Steve left off, and you meet Steve Rogers, - the man before he hit the ice and was frozen for 70 years.

Second person POV

Steve and you met each other through S.H.I.E.L.D. You first became familiar in 2014 when you became an agent for the agency. Steve worked as a counter-terrorist operative and was frequently put up on extreme missions which required the super soldier. You were in contrast put on easier but secretive missions, those of which required gathering information from anti forces of the U.S. government.

You were both too busy to exchange conversations, but you acknowledged each other with passing greetings. You had always thought Captain America was an admirable man, and you highly respected him. He seemed to have respect for you too, but he was known for having a big heart, and you knew it was anything but exclusive.

In 2015, when Steve was sent on less missions, he engaged in full conversations with you as you also became more available. There was of course the Ultron attack, but apart from that, crimes were quiet at this time around. You were moved over to writing reports at your office of the few missions that were in action. Steve would come by to ask about your well being, and sometimes drop a coffee off at your desk, - being the considerate man he was. A noticeable sexual tension was growing between you two with the way you would talk to each other, but neither of you acted upon it as it wasn’t deemed appropriate at the time. You sometimes wish you did.

Captain America disappeared from the face of the earth one day as a conflict had erupted between him and Iron Man, - also known as the civil war. He went undercover for 2 years without a word from him. You missed him a lot in that duration of time. It took a long time to get used to not having him pop in for a visit and greet you with coffee, just the way you liked it. Everything was as if he never existed, and you eventually accepted things would be that way until he shows up again, - or never.

Then another unthinkable happened in 2018 when half of the population were erased by Thanos. You were all put in a dark place, one that sought comfort from each other. Steve reached out to you at your office after years of not seeing each other, and a need to show more than just friendly kindness became an urge.

What started with desperate kisses and touches turned into rough sex, with you bent over your own office desk with Steve’s cock being thrusted inside of your cunt from behind. He wasn’t shy at all to test the grounds of fucking you, and you couldn’t say you minded with how good it felt to finally have a euphoric release after feeling down for some time.

The next four years would be the best ones of your life despite what would otherwise be the worst ones for many others. You officially became a couple, with Steve asking you out to a first date. One date turned into many, and you soon moved in together. He proposed to you two years into your relationship, and of course you said yes.

You retired as a SHIELD agent and became an office worker instead. Steve worked at several departments to help and restore damages that had been inflicted in the city due to the snap.

Steve had lost so much, but he had told you that he was still able to move on because you were there. You had become his everything. You were a reason for him to keep going. He showed how much you meant to him through his affection and the intimate moments you had. He put so many words perfectly together and made your heart melt with every sweet thing he said to you.

“You’re my doll. I’ll never leave your side, love.”

That used to settle it in your head that you would grow old with him. That you would soon marry, have kids and live the perfect family life, something you both had expressed wanting.

Little did you know at the time that he would do the opposite of what he had promised.

“Steve, I don’t know how I feel about this mission…” you shared when Steve brought up the plan the remaining Avengers had put together of traveling back in time to restore their failure and bring back half of the population that were lost.

“Love, I know you’re scared…I’m nervous about the mission too. But we need to try. We have planned this for a very long time now and you need to trust me when I say everything will work out accordingly to our plan. It’s not going to be like how it went last time. That was our last time failing. We will make everything right.”

Steve reassured, and kissed the top of your head as he stood by the door.

“Once I’m back, we’re getting married, love.” He huskily whispered the promise, and kissed the hand where your ring rested on your finger. “I love you.”

Those three words would be the last thing you heard from him before he left to the Avenger headquarters to go through with the mission.

48 hours later, and Steve had proved you right. It became world news within seconds that the people who were lost 5 years ago were now back and that Thanos had been defeated.

You remember being absolutely thrilled. You were so proud of Steve and the Avengers for managing the impossible. You were given an update from Scott through text that Captain America was doing alright, and that he would need a few days recovery before he could return home.

No one ever informed you about Steve’s second mission of returning the infinity stones to the past.

It was too late when you a week later asked about him and learned he never returned to the present.

2 years later…..

“Okay, so here’s the thing…—“ Bruce started, “The pym particles I have are not completely legit. They are clones produced by Dr. Strange’s sorcery and my knowledge in their substance, and while they match the substances they contain, the outcome from using them might not be completely the same.” He said, and picked one up to showcase you.

You narrowed an eye as you took the one Bruce held up, studying it with interest. “Do you know what kind of different outcome it may give if I use them?”

“Nothing too crazy, just simple things like, - specification of time traveling and whereabouts. You might not get to your chosen destination or year, so you’ll have to be more considerate and prepare for the unexpected.” Bruce hypothesized.

You were positive of going through with time traveling, even with the risks of having a harder time finding Steve. While this could be counted as one of your most challenging missions, you were up to the task.

“You’re still taking a risk though. This isn’t going to be like when we time travelled to get all the time stones where we were able to to go to a specific time and day. You will be sent to an unspecified year and place to your chosen time period. Not to mention we don’t even know where our Steve time travelled and continued his life, -“

“- It doesn’t matter.” You interrupted. “We know he left off for Peggy, so it must mean he left anywhere between Second World War to the beginning of the Cold War anyway. If I have to put my bets, I’ll guess he went back to the earliest time possible to continue his past life and relationship with Peggy. It’s not a big deal if I show up years later after he arrived there as long as I get to talk to him.” You said.

“Alright. If you’re sure about this, I won’t stop you. You have an extra pym particle, so if anything goes wrong, you just need to come back.” Bruce said, more so in question as he narrowed his eye at you.

“Of course, of course.” You reassured. “I just need to do this. It’s been 2 years and nothing has changed. I haven’t come to peace with the terms and I think a good talk and a screaming session with him will give me just that. I need answers. I know it’s pathetic, but honestly can you blame me?”

“I really don’t, Y/N. It was a shocker for all of us that he left behind his life here when he had said so himself that he had come to like it. I don’t know why he came to make that choice, but regardless it wasn’t fair on you. I totally get it.” Bruce sympathized, which made you quirk a smile.

All this time you thought you were insanse for not being able to leave Steve behind. People advised you to move on, and you tried. You went on dates and met new people all the time, but no matter how much you tried to move forward, you were held back by so many questions. Questions that haunted you and made you cry yourself to sleep as you went down memory lane, trying to find a single moment that you should have picked up on to know your relationship with Steve wasn’t everlasting.

But you couldn’t find a single one.

Why? Why did he leave?

What did I do wrong?

Wasn’t I enough?

Was our love ever real?

You didn’t know anymore about the last one. You couldn’t count all the times he had told you he loved you. He reminded you each time he came back from a mission, each time you woke up in bed beside him, each time you made love.

He had you on a chokehold, and he wasn’t there to release his hands on you.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Banner rummaging through something in the storage closet.

“You can’t leave without some real useful gadgets. Here,” He put it on the table and gestured you to open up the safe.

You opened it up cautiously, only to find several cubes slotted safely in the protection cushion. Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“What are these?” You asked, as you picked one up, surprised at how heavy it was.

“These are nanotechnological gadgets. They take forms as these tiny cubes until activated. The one you’re holding right there is a jet pack. Could be quite useful if you have to travel by far.” He explained. He then carefully picked up an earpiece with his hulk hands, “All you gotta do is wear this which is connected to all of them and call out after its given name, ‘Genesis’, for an activation.”

You nodded and took the earpiece into your ear. You looked into the little mirror on the table and saw that it suddenly shifted colour to match your own skin colour. You gasped, impressed by how well it blended. It was as if it wasn’t there.

Bruce laughed, “Isn’t that neat? That’s some ‘James Bond’ stuff right there. Another bonus is even if you loose them, they’ll transport themselves over to your location if you give that order. You can figure out what the rest of these are for by yourself.” He pointed at the other cubes and closed the safe. “Think it’ll be more fun for you that way.”

You chuckled, before a thought came to mind as you realized the suitcase was under the Stark industries trademark. “These were Mr. Stark’s though, weren’t they?…I couldn’t possibly take them.”

“It’s cool, I took part in creating these. I’m sure if he was still here with us right now, he’d lend one of his iron suits. Unfortunately I don’t have access to those as they are under Pepper’s name and all. I can only offer the things I have in the lab.” He said with an apologetic shrug.

Your eyes widened and you immediately shook your head, “Oh, no these will absolutely do! Thank you so much Bruce! I owe you a big one.”

He laughed. “Sure thing, kid. Now, let’s get started on this time traveling so you can kick America’s ass.”

You were up on the Time Heist machine with the safe and a backpack full of essentials, giving Bruce a final wave goodbye before you were swirled into the quantum realm for a nanosecond and into the past.

You were suddenly in an empty street corner of what you could presume was somewhere downtown New York. The town looked like it was in its fetus stage as you made your way to the Main Street, with barely any skyscrapers coming to view.

The team suit transformed and gave you conservative clothing, one that could pass as casual for women to wear during the 40s to 50s. There were young boys running around, selling the newest flyer to the curious adults, and posters promoting drafting were hung up on every light pole.

For some reason, you weren’t receiving any data of what time you had appeared in, but you could only guess it was the mid 40s based on your current surroundings.

Nervously you met the eyes of busy women and men who you passed by, not being mentally prepared for the social aspects of being in a time period of which your grandparents were probably living their early years of their youth. You were already feeling uncanny from knowing how out of place you were, but you could only remind yourself that this was just a quick visit to give Steve a piece of your mind.

“Genesis, I would like to have access of all governmental archives mentioning Steve’s proximities at this current time period.”

Genesis gave you multiple suggestions, but the primarily suspected location of Steve’s current whereabouts was a military base in Port Jervis.

2 and a half hour train ride? Not bad at all.

It sounded a lot better than using the jet pack, especially when other options were available.

You walked in a phone booth and unlocked the safe, reading through the functions to find what you were looking for.

“Genesis, I’d like to unlock the printer and print 20 US dollars and a fake ID card registered under military record, please.”

“Amy Preston from Newsburgh military base, is that right?” You nodded in response to the soldier who was checking your ID by the gate of Port Jervis military base. “What brings you here?” He asked.

“I have a couple of errands to run in connection with the mission in planning, sir.” You explained, as you straightened your military uniform and rested your elbows on the front desk. “The Howling commandos will be sent to Italy to infiltrate Hydra bases, and we may have some input of several coordinations which suggests where else they are hiding.” You reached out the documents which were actually accurate future knowledge.

You could tell the soldier was anything but focused on the papers though as he eyed your breasts through your clothes which you were firmly squeezing together to give off your sex appeal.

He cleared his throat and only took a few glances at the papers before returning them to you. “Alright ma’am, you may pass. Hope you have a pleasant stay with us while you’re here.” He said smugly, and winked at you before you carried on. You could only fake a smile until he was out of sight, your face pulling one of disgust.

The base was large, reaching as far as up to a hill. Vehicles were creating a traffic by the gate with several soldiers sitting on the open back trunks.

Some whistled at you as you walked past them, but you could care less of giving them your time of day. Your eyes scanned the area with interest for the one man you were looking for.

You walked around for a good half an hour, sneaking into tents to see if any of the men in there were Steve, but you had no such luck of spotting him. Then, as you walked though the weapon supplies area, a familiar face came to view. You saw Dum Dum Dogan talking to a fellow soldier, the man who after Steve’s presumed death would become the new leader of the Howling commandos. He was one of Steve’s close friends during the war. He had told you as such himself.

He has to be somewhere close then.

You reached the corner of a huge tent, and that was when you halted your steps. You had found him.

There he was. Carrying on with his duties as if he had never been frozen in ice for 70 years, become a beloved hero of the 21st century and captured your heart, promising a future as lovers only to break it and leave you behind.

He stood there, talking to Jim Morita, yet another one of his soldier buddies with what looked like a map as they were discussing something.

Your head boiled with fury, the sight of him alone making you want to scream your heart out.

I might just do that actually, You thought.

Fuck it.

“Steven Grant Rogers, — you piece of absolute garbage!” You called out after him, saying his name with pure venom.

Steve immediately turned to where his name had been called, completely dumbfounded as you stormed towards him, your steps firm as you kept your form tall and straight. The soldier excused himself and walked away, leaving more privacy to whatever this would be about.

“You really thought it would be this easy, didn’t you? That you could leave your girlfriend of 4 fucking years without as much as a goodbye? An explanation? An apology?” You spat at his face.

“Pardon, ma’am, I don’t think I follow -“

“Oh, shut up and cut the bullshit! You left me! Without a word! How could you?!” You shouted, your face flaring up with the pent up anger you had waited to release on him for 2 years. “You left for another woman who you hadn’t seen for decades and you thought I’d be okay with it? Because I’ll have you know I was not and am still not over what you did to me! After everything we’ve been through together, and you left it all, — like it meant nothing! Fuck You!”

Soldiers around the area were subtly following the the interaction from afar, some even snickering as the Captain was being told off by some woman who they could only assume was one of his many fangirls making a fit.

Steve looked around, embarrassed and confused as he sighed and said, “Please refrain from using that kind of language, there’s really no need to cuss at me when I don’t even know you. You must be mistaking me for someone else... ”

You saw Steve swallow, clearly getting agitated from your confrontation. You frowned at his mannerism. What was up with him?

Steve usually never showed nervousness and was good at keeping his composure.

You blinked, “What do you mean?….You really don’t know who I am?”

“No, I really don’t…no offense of course, but I’m pretty sure I would remember the face of my own girlfriend, - since that’s what you claimed to be earlier anyway…” he said with a sheepish smile.

You were frozen with disbelief.

“What month and year is it?”

“November, 1944, ma’am. Why?”

Wait…

Wait a moment…

Oh shit.

“So you don’t -…you aren’t my…”

You didn’t even want to complete that sentence as you knew there was no use. This was in fact not your Steve. You hadn’t considered how it wouldn’t be convenient for Steve to go in a time where his past self was still living.

Steve must have obviously travelled back after his past self got trapped in the Arctic. And now your last chance of having a talk with your Steve was put on a major stall because the time machine decided to be a real ass and send you the year before past Steve goes missing in the Arctic.

Actually it wasn’t technically in a year’s time, but 4 months since Steve would go on that mission and land the Hydra ship in February of 1945, 7 months before the war ends, - but still.

You had no idea at how long of a time you would have to wait for him regardless. You were internally having a meltdown, all the while Steve was standing there, not sure of what to make out of the whole interaction.

“Ma’am?…Are you feeling okay?” Steve asked with worry, his face tilted as he studied your empty expression.

You gulped and slowly nodded your head. “Erm…yeah, I’m fine…I just…” you shook your head dismissively as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Actually, no. I’m not fine. At all. This is so bad. Worst part is I can’t even talk to you about it because you, - you don’t even know me yet. You don’t, - shit.” You cursed as tears were building up in your eyes.

You looked away as you began taking a few steps back, not wanting to showcase the misery you have kept in for so long and weren’t able to release because the right man wasn’t in front of you.

“Hey, don’t cry…I’m sure whatever you’re going through, you’ll find a way to solve it…” Steve tried to console as best as he could. He had frowned at the part where you had mentioned you couldn’t tell him because he didn’t know you ‘yet’, which left him to assume you were having a mental breakdown, or was simply confused.

Meanwhile in your mind, you were thinking of what you should do. You were figuring out how you were going to make this whole mission worthwhile, - if maybe you should tell him everything so you could get answers from him. After all, you were talking to the Steve who had fresh memories of the woman who he apparently loved more than you.

He was still Steve, but yet it didn’t feel right to put the heat on him as he had none of the experiences your Steve had. You felt stuck.

40s Steve POV

The woman’s lack of response in contrast to when she first came up to me left me concerned. My first assumption was she had some kind of mental illness. I couldn’t make any sense of what she had said to me, apart from knowing my full name.

“Ma’am, if you’d let me, I’ll take you to get help from the medical committee. It’s at the center of this base, -“

“I’m not sick, Steve!” She interrupted with frustration.

I flinched, not expecting for her to go full volume with her voice again.

“I-I apologize, I didn’t mean to insinuate you were…” I stuttered, and looked around again to see eyes were still on us from a distance. “Look, if you’d like to talk, we should maybe move somewhere else more…private. I would appreciate not attracting a crowd…”

She sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment before she nodded in agreement. “Let’s.”

I took her with me to an unoccupied office where we could have a private talk about whatever she wanted to tell me. Her face maintained a pondering look, as if she was thinking about how to put words into sentences.

I could already tell I was in for more confusion.

“I came here to talk to you, but not you. I don’t, - I’m not sure how and if I should explain it…you’re not my Steve Rogers.” She said the last part in a whisper, but I heard it very clearly due to my enhanced hearing.

This dame is absolutely out of her mind, I thought.

“Then let’s begin with me pointing something out. You’re dressed in uniform, but you’re clearly not from our base. You’re missing a Howling commando pin on both sides of your suit. In fact, I don’t think you work for the military at all considering you’re missing a US star patch on your right arm.”

I didn’t miss the way she cursed under her breath as she looked up again to respond. “I had it on when I dressed up,…guess it was by pure luck I got in. I’m not surprised though. That soldier by the gate was practically checking me out.”

I didn’t expect her to be humorous, and she earned a chuckle from me as I wasn’t too surprised to hear that. Many soldiers were unfortunately too distracted in their male gaze.

“Of course. So, where are you from then? Did someone send you? Are you a spy?” I asked, and narrowed an eye with suspicion.

“No. — I mean, I guess I could say I sent myself if that counts.” She answered with a shrug.

I shook my head, unamused by this woman’s game. “If you’re not going to be serious about this, I’ll have to send you in for temporary arrest and have you interrogated by a professional. It’s illegal for you to be here, you know.” I held her arm, to which she immediately protested by shaking her arm off.

“No need to have me on your grip. It’s not like I can outrun you anyway. You can run a mile in a minute.”

I crossed my arms, caught off guard that she was being factual about my physique, though no information of it had been released to the public from my knowledge. “How did you know that?”

“I know a lot of things about you, - because I was your fiancé.“ she said, as if it was the obvious.

“Okay,” I sighed and decided to play along for a little bit more. “If we are that close, tell me something no one else knows about me.”

She bit the inside of her cheek as she took a minute to think. For a moment I thought she didn’t have anything more to say. I turned around and wiped my eyes from drowsiness, until she opened her mouth again and said something that would completely shift the atmosphere;

“A strong heart will take you further than any physical strength. A strong heart means you'll never quit. —”

I stiffened, my face immediately turning to look at her, my focus not shifted on anything else anymore.

“— Sarah. Your mother said that to you before she died of tuberculosis in 1936.”

My stomach dropped when her eyes met mine again. I took steps forward, my face only inches away as my glare drilled into hers.

My jaw ticked as my eyebrows narrowed, my hands landing on her shoulder to not have her move away.

“How do you know that? Who are you?”

Her lips quirked a smile as she leaned in and said, “I’ve already told you. I was your fiancé, -

From the future anyway.”

N/A: First part of a 4-5 part series! Already working on part 2 & 3, so this should go somewhat smoothly. >:)

Also fuck Endgame!Steve, am I right?

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <;3

[racefortheironthrone]

Re zoning regulation reform: could you go into detail as what that would look like in terms of wiping the slate clean. I feel like it would be better to go the houston route and just be zoning free

You do not want to go the Houston route.

Houston may claim to be "zoning-free" - and to be fair, it doesn't have some of the more common regulations on land use, or density, or height restrictions (more on this in a minute) - but the reality is far more complicated and the status quo is not one that's friendly to the interests of working-class and poor residents, or to the possibility of sustainable urbanism.

The answer to NIMBYism isn't to abolish all regulations and let the free market rip, it's to surgically target zoning, planning, and litigation that is used against affordable housing, public/social housing, mass transit, clean energy, and walkable neighborhoods, and to replace it with new forms of regulation that encourage these forms of development.

So let's take take these categories in order.

Zoning

As I tell my Urban Studies students, zoning is both one of the most subtle and yet comprehensive ways in which the state shapes the urban environment - but historically it has been used almost exclusively in the interests of racism and classism. Reforming zoning requires going over the code with a fine-toothed comb to single out all the many ways in which zoning is used to make affordable housing impossible:

The most important one to tackle first is density zoning and building heights limitations. The former directly limits how many buildings you can have per unit of land (usually per acre), while the latter limits how big the buildings can be (expressed either as the number of stories or the number of feet, or as both). Closely associated with these zoning regulations are minimum lot size regulations (which regulate how much land each individual parcel of real estate has to cover, and thus how many how many housing units can be built in a given area), and lot coverage, setbacks, and minimum yard requirements (which limit how much square footage of a lot can be built on, and what kinds of structures you can build).

the other big one is use zoning. To begin with, we need to phase out "single use" zoning that designates certain areas as exclusively residential or commercial or industrial (a major factor that drives car-centric development, makes walkable neighborhoods impossible, and discourages the "insula" style apartment building that has been the core of urbanism since Ancient Rome) in favor of "mixed use" zoning that allows for neighborhoods that combine residential and commercial uses. Equally importantly, we need to eliminate single-family zoning and adopt zoning rules that allow for a mix of different kinds of housing (ADUs, duplexes and triplexes, rowhouses/terraced houses, apartment buildings).

finally, the most insidious zoning requirements are seemingly incidental regulations. For example, mandatory parking minimums not only prioitize car-dependent versus transit-oriented development but also eat up huge amounts of space per lot. The most nakedly classist is "unrelated persons" zoning, which is used to prevent poorer people from subdividing houses into apartments, which zaps young people who are looking to be roommates and older people looking to finance their retirements by running boarding houses or taking in lodgers, as well as landlords looking to convert houses from owner-occupied to rental properties.

So I would argue that the goal of reform should be not to eliminate zoning, but rather to establish model zoning codes that have been stripped of the historical legacies of racism and classism.

Planning

Similar to how zoning shouldn't be abolished but reformed, the correct approach to planning isn't to abolish planning departments wholesale, but to streamline the planning process - because the problem is that right now the planning process is too slow, which raises the costs of all kinds of development (we're focusing on housing right now, but the same holds true for clean energy projects), and it allows NIMBY groups to abuse the public hearings and environmental review process to block projects that are good for the environment and working-class and poor people but bad for affluent homeowners.

As those Ezra Klein interviews indicate, this is beginning to change due to a combination of reforms at both the state and federal level to speed up the CEQA and EPA environmental review process in a number of ways. For example, one change that's being made is to require planning agencies and environmental agencies to report on the environmental impact of not doing a project as well, to shift the discussion away from petty complaints about noise and traffic and "neighborhood character" (i.e, coded racism and classism) and towards real discussions of social and environmental justice.

At the same time, more is needed - especially to reform the public hearing process. While originally intended by Jane Jacobs and other activists in the 1970s as a democratic reform that would give local communities a voice in the planning process, "participatory planning" has become a way for special interests to exercise an unaccountable veto power over development. Because younger, poorer and more working class, and communities of color often don't have time to attend public hearing sessions during the workday, these meetings become dominated by older, whiter, and richer residents who claim to speak for the whole of the community.

Moreover, because community boards are appointed rather than elected and public hearings operate on a first-come-first-serve basis, an unrepresentative minority can create a false impression of community opposition by "stacking the mike" and dialing up their level of militancy and aggression in the face of elected officials and civil servants who want to avoid controversy. (It's a classic case of diffuse versus concentrated interests, something that I spend a lot of classroom time making sure that my students learn.)

Again, the point shouldn't be to eliminate public hearings and other forms of participatory planning, but to reform them so that they're more representative (shifting public hearings to weekends and allowing people to comment via Zoom and other online forums, conducting surveys of community opinion, using a progressive stack and requiring equal time between pro and anti speakers, etc.) and to streamline the review process for model projects in categories like affordable housing, clean energy, mass transit, etc.

Litigation

Alongside the main planning process, there is also a need to reform the litigation process around development. In addition to traditional tort lawsuits from property owners claiming damage to their property from development, a lot of planning and environemntal legislation allows for private groups to sue over a host of issues - whether the agency followed the correct procedures, whether it took into account concerns about this impact or that impact, and so forth.

As we saw with the case of Berkeley NIMBYs who used CEQA to block student housing projects over environmental impacts around "noise," this process can be used to either block projects outright, or even if the NIMBYs eventually lose in court, to draw out the process until projects fall apart due to lack of funding or the proponents simply lose their patience and give up.

This is why we're starting to see significant reforms to both state and federal legislation to streamline the litigation process. The categorical exemptions from review that I discussed above also have implications for litigation - you can't sue over reviews that didn't happen - but there are also efforts to speed up the litigation process through reducing what counts as "administrative record" or by putting a nine-month cap on court proceedings.

Again, this is an area where you have to be very surgical in your changes. Especially when the politics of the issue divide environmental groups and create odd coalitions between labor, business, climate change activists, and anti-regulation conservatives, you have to be careful that the changes you are making benefit affordable housing, clean energy, mass transit and the like, not oil pipelines and suburban sprawl.

[stargazer-sims]

list 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to simblrs whose sims you adore ʚ♡ɞ

Thanks for the ask @108sims !

At this point in their lives, we really can't have one without the other. They are a package deal. So, here are some facts about Stan & Milena:

Stanislav & Milena Kovac

Stan is a figure skating coach. Milena is a lawyer.

They were born in the same year, and their birthdays are only three days apart, with Stan's on 3 June and Milena's on 6 June.

They both came to Canada from the Czech Republic (known as Czechoslovakia at the time) when they were seventeen. Stan came to train with a well-known Canadian figure skating coach, and Milena came to learn English, graduate and go on to university. They didn't know each other before arriving in Canada, and actually met at school during a welcome event for exchange students. Stan was allowed to attend even though he wasn't part of the official exchange program. He was still a student at that high school, so the administration decided they could not in good conscience exclude him.

Stan's original plan was to return to his country of origin when he retired from competition, but by the time he retired, he and Milena were already married and had their daughter Alzbeta, and they were happy with their life in Canada, so they decided to stay. Eventually they both became Canadians.

Milena and Stan's wedding bands are made from one of Stan's medals. He proposed to her on the same night he won a gold medal at Skate Canada, and they later had that medal refashioned into their rings. Since gold medals are mostly made of silver and only covered in gold, their rings are that way as well. Milena is still completely enamoured by the idea that she's wearing part of one of Stan's medals on her finger.

Stan learned how to cook and do all kinds of household chores during the time Milena was in law school. These days, they share the household duties almost equally, with a few exceptions. Milena would prefer that Stan never touches the washer and dryer, as there have been too many laundry-related disasters that can be attributed to Stan over the years.

"Stan" is Stan's English nickname. Almost everyone he knows calls him Stan, and he's totally okay with that since he speaks English a majority of the time. Milena refuses to call him Stan, though. She calls him by a Czech diminutive of his name (Slavek) or by his full name when he's in trouble. In turn, Stan calls her Mila, which no one else who knows her uses for her.

Stan and Milena are both fully fluent in English now, but they speak Czech to each other almost exclusively. The only time they don't is when they're in a group with people who don't know the language. They have no problem not speaking English in public when it's just the two of them, however. Grocery shopping, having dinner at a restaurant, running errands or visiting the local pool or park, it's definitely not unusual for them not to use English with each other.

Milena and Stan are both dog people, and they've had many dogs over the years. Stan absolutely did not want a cat, but more or less stumbled into cat ownership when he found two abandoned kittens in the parking lot of the arena. They were so young that they needed to be bottle fed, and Stan became unexpectedly committed to saving them. He called the grey one Blade and the white one Ice. Unfortunately, Blade didn't survive, but Ice has grown into the fuzzy overlord bent on world domination that she knows she was always destined to be. Stan likes to complain about Ice and tries to give the impression he doesn't like her, but he's secretly devoted to that cat.

There is a running joke among their friends about their tendency to wear "matching" outfits. Not that the outfits themselves are particularly similar, but Milena and Stan enjoy wearing outfits with the same colours, at the same time. (such as both of them wearing green sweaters on the same day).

[saintmeghanmarkle]

i tried to analyse what's the reason of this coordinated attack both in UK ITV interview and US People exclusive. here's some suspects (some usual but there's the unusual too) by u/LocksmithFar9486

i tried to analyse what's the reason of this coordinated attack both in UK ITV interview, and US People exclusive. here's some suspects (some usual, but there's the unusual too) He run out money. his bank is empty.so by talking to itv and people, yes he get money from them, but also this is his last attempt using his last bite of money (joe the bodyguard would never talk on record to people if he doesn't get money for it). if charles doesn't help him with money now, he has nothing left.He anticipated trump winningi said it before here about this, but you guys said that there would be no different because even when he flied to us in 2020, the president was trump. but here's what i think might be different now. yes trump didn't do anything, and maybe won't do anything in the future. but he wouldn't give henry anything ge got from biden administration for this last 4 years either. on people, henry's bodyguard said UK govt don't to give them anything. but he said nothing about US. maybe he actually get whatever he asks from the US govt. and it might change if with different president. this, on the top of they picked Birmingham instead of DC. why he dismissed the chance to cozying up with president at the IG? because he thinks it's not his preferable candidate who'll win.archie reach school age and he want them to go to school in the ukfor whatever reason, he want this. he want what his brother has: kids who go to school in the uk. wearing british uniform. he's a messy man himself. but i think it's him who dressed his children very british outfit. he want his children to live a privileged life of the monarch's grandchildren, just like him.his relationship with meg is on the edgehe's about to have joe-sophie, olivia-jason cross atlantic custody battle situation. he'll lose his custody battle in the first row if he still doesn't have royal protection in the uk because meg will using it against bringing his children to the uk at all. even worse, he might actually want to kidnap his kids, bring them to the uk, now before meg noticing anything.trump assassination doubling down his paranoiadeep down he know US is far more dangerous than the UK.polo documentary, lake something movie producing, aro, and all of it, nothing is going well.he know it's all falling apart. again, he doesn't have any skills. so this is the only way to keep people talking about them.he knows something about his father's health that we don't knowwhen queen Elizabeth passed, all her inheritance went to charles. so william will get everything too. so henry needs to securing whatever it is, now. he want charles to give him whatever he thinks he should get, now.his idiot ass genuinely believes labour govt will doing his favourwell, he's not the brightest after all.he's just homesick💁🏻‍♀️ if you watch his interaction with meg in netflix, it's just felt so boring. and he didn't have his pals too in montecito. and montecito is basically a dead city for retire. he misses his past life, party, and everything else. maybe he should move to NY where he could play taxi chase everytime he get bored. post link: https://ift.tt/9e0pSGE author: LocksmithFar9486 submitted: August 01, 2024 at 02:16AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[hlizr50]

Men pay a lot of money to get their name into Gwyn's exclusive black book - enough that, with careful planning, she's putting herself through law school debt-free. Once she's graduated, she can retire the high heels and little black dresses and get to work in the pursuit of justice that she and her sister never received.

Azriel Singer's profile intrigues her, with a smile that never shines in his eyes and a delectable body. But will his attitude get in the way of any future potential?

Welcome to the ACOTAR Writing Circle!!!

This is part 1! Part 2 will be posted in 2 weeks, and Part 3 in two weeks after that! I can't wait to see where this story goes!

Thank you @azrielshadowssing for organizing this event yet again! And thanks to @headcanonheadcase and @mystical-blaise for your feedback!

Now, without further ado, here is part one of a new Gwynriel AU:

I Choose Who. I Choose You.

Read on AO3 or read the chapter below!

Gwyn squinted at her computer screen before rubbing her eyes to see if that would help the blurry words come into focus. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep - not since her shitty roommate had weaseled away the cash they’d set aside for rent. She’d had to work later and longer than she was used to over the previous week to make sure she still had a roof over her head. And now that she was occupying the small apartment solo, she would have to adjust her scheduling.

The copper-haired law student mentally ticked through the list again: twice as much for rent, internet, electric, water. She’d already nixed the cable, mourning the loss of SVU and Grey’s, but she would just have to cope. For the past year or so, she’d been able to get away with reserving Friday and Saturday nights for her work. Now she was going to have to expand that to Thursday or Sunday – maybe both. She’d just have to see how business was.

Only three more semesters. She could hang up her thigh-high boots and tiny dresses and insane push-up bras after that.

In spite of the judgment from society at large, Gwyn wasn’t ashamed of being an escort. When she’d been attacked, sex had been used as a weapon against her. It had consumed her; filling her with pain and guilt and shame. After she took control of her body again, there was only power. When she performed sex acts by her own free will, it was liberating. And nothing was more empowering than using it all to put herself through college and law school, after which she could exact the justice that she and her sister never received.

She chose who. She chose when. She chose how much. 

If she didn’t want to fuck, she didn’t. If she didn’t get a good feeling from a guy, she wouldn’t even go meet him. She ruthlessly investigated the men looking to make it into her little black book, and only a few made the cut each week.

Gwyn worried her bottom lip as she read the same line of text about patent law for what had to be the seventh time. More work meant more internet sleuthing and social media stalking, which would take up time during the days that she would like to keep reserved with her schoolwork.

It was going to be a grind, but it would be better than a thieving roommate and her skeevy hookups. And the rent was still cheaper than anything else she’d find in the city.

With a muttered curse she snapped her laptop closed, choosing to abandon schoolwork when it was obvious that she would not be retaining any knowledge. Instead, she plopped down on the well-loved sofa with her cell phone and her tablet, determined to be at least somewhat productive. As soon as she tapped the button that would lead to what she called her ‘dashboard’, a familiar ding notified her of a text. She set the tablet down and grabbed the phone, eyeing the message bubble.

Nesta: Come out tonight?

Gwyn groaned, relieved that her best friend wasn’t there to hear and, therefore, admonish her for the reaction. She knew Nesta meant well, and that she wanted Gwyn to go out and enjoy all the things the buzzing city life had to offer a mid-to-upper twenty-something woman like herself. And the law student would admit that she always had a good time when she obliged Nesta and Emerie.

But, in spite of what she did for a living, being out in the unpredictable night made her nervous. She was always vigilant, to the point where it had to grate on the people around her, not to mention any of the service staff who had the unfortunate luck of dealing with her idiosyncrasies.

At least she was a generous tipper.

And now, with the rise in her expenses, Gwyn found herself yet another excuse to keep herself cloistered and safe behind the locked door of her apartment.

Gwyn: Can’t tonight. School stuff. 

Okay, so a little white lie here and there wasn’t the worst thing she could do.

Nesta: BOO

Gwyn laughed as she thumbed her response.

Gwyn: Text me when you get home. Gwyn: Or a photo of the sorry sap you’re going home with and an address. Gwyn: And then text me when you get THERE. Gwyn: And then text me in the morning. Nesta: YES, MOM

She played into the bit, sending her a kissy emoji along with a message to “make good choices”, before turning her attention back to her tablet. If school wasn’t happening, then she’d use this valuable time for recon on her newest submissions.

And the photos that greeted her were, on the whole, quite impressive.

Tamlin Green. Tarquin Summers. Jaxon Vanserra.

She didn’t even open the Vanserra file. Instead her nose crinkled as she grimaced and immediately declined. Even if he wasn’t directly related, Nesta’s sister Feyre was close to a Lucien Vanserra who had the same fiery hair. Lucien was on-again/off-again with Nesta’s other sister, Elain. That potential connection was just too close, the prospect of meeting awkwardly at a holiday a little more likely than Gwyn cared to accept.

Tarquin Summers looked delectably exotic, with a brilliant smile that promised trouble. It was exactly that kind of vow that sent the law student digging into the profile he’d created, and she was not disappointed.

Summers was pretty young to own a company, the result of the passing of his father, whose private jet had crashed a few years prior. His leadership must still be solid, in spite of his age, because the hydro-power startup was thriving, and winning the hearts of environmentalists everywhere. Gwyn found his focus on the climate quite attractive.

What was also quite attractive was the way the man wore a three-piece suit. With his white-blonde braids pulled back from his face and his chocolate skin an incredible contrast against his crisp white collar and tan vest, with matching pants that were tailored to perfection and definitely highlighted that he had… a lot to work with downstairs.

That picture of a shirtless Tarquin Summers at the gym was quite a selling point, as well.

Gwyn returned to her home screen and opened another app, quickly transferring his information into it and submitting the background check. If everything came back on the up and up, she might just get to trace those washboard abs with her tongue.

With a satisfied hum, she returned to her dashboard and opened the file for Tamlin Green, even though the long, golden hair and too-perfect face screamed frat-boy with daddy’s money and nary a consequence in the world. Green was a looker, and he obviously knew it. He was older than Summers, his emerald eyes colder and more calculating, and Gwyn knew it wasn’t just because Tamlin simply had more experience with the real world and the hell that it could be.

Tamlin Green was the heir of an oil tycoon. Old money. Ruthless money. Where Tarquin was an industry upstart with a passion for conservation and paying fair and livable wages, Tamlin had been groomed by a long legacy of greed and profit at any cost.

Against her better judgment, Gwyn typed the first and last name into her search engine. She knew the background check for Tamlin would likely come back as pristine as his Crest-commercial smile. For serial troublemakers like him – with rich, influential fathers – Gwyn would stoop to scrolling through social media and internet news and gossip sites. Unfortunately, more often than not, those salacious stories were closest to the truth.

It took longer than she expected to find the questionable stuff – props to his family’s public relations staff – but when her finger fell on the article link, she didn’t need to read beyond the headline.

GREEN OIL, FORMER EMPLOYEES REACH SETTLEMENT Twelve women who accused Green golden boy of sexual harassment and stalking receive $125 million

The copper-haired student gave a disapproving tsk as she closed her browser and declined Tamlin Green’s application. While she was smug that the women who brought the lawsuit had come away with a significant sum for their trouble, to men like Tamlin $125 million was merely pocket change; a minor inconvenience for them to keep behaving badly.

A contented sigh escaped between Gwyn’s lips. Tarquin seemed promising, and tomorrow she would reach out to schedule a meeting to discuss wants and needs and expectations and compensation. But until then, perhaps she could–

Another face appeared before she could close the app, and she was met with the intense hazel stare of what could quite possibly be the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. Even though it was just an uploaded photo, Gwyn felt like he was peering straight into her soul.

“Azriel Singer,” she tested the name in her mouth and found that she quite liked the way it fell from her lips. With hair that was somehow both perfect and disheveled and heavy dark ink peeking out from the unbuttoned collar of the navy henley he wore, this man screamed sex appeal. His grin was lopsided, and didn’t reach his eyes, but that didn’t make him any less tempting.

Brooding and mysterious? Sinfully sexy with a tormented past? Laughing to herself, she opened his profile and application. Gwyn was making him the main character in her own romance book before she knew anything about him at all.

Azriel Singer was a tech genius, specializing in cybersecurity, and was responsible for protecting the assets of Velaris, Inc. He also contracted his security services to other big name companies, and his programming prowess and talent for layered protection strategies made him worth every penny he invoiced. Unlike Summers and Green, Azriel Singer didn’t appear to be one for the public eye, and when he did venture out into the city, it was in the company of his two fraternity brothers.

When he did venture out into the city, he looked sexy as fuck.

Azriel was tall and muscular, but a little leaner than Tarquin. The attached gym photos weren’t shirtless, but they didn’t have to be with the way that the tank was practically painted onto his skin. The tattoos ran over his chest and shoulders, tapering off like tendrils of smoke as they snaked down his arms and up his neck, and for a moment Gwyn wondered if they signified anything.

She also wanted to touch them.

With her fingertips and her lips and her tongue and… 

The redhead shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She was never like this – drooling after a man she’d never met. She was supposed to be the stoic one, the hard-to-get one. She had the power. These men were panting after her, not the other way around.

But there was something about the way that his eyes seemed dark and never glinted with mirth that made her want to know more. It made her want to understand whatever he might have suffered and help him shoulder the burden. Perhaps it was that younger, broken version of herself that felt so pulled to someone else who was cracked and imperfect underneath the veneer of beauty and wealth.

And even though she had Tarquin, with his mischievous grin and laughing eyes and perfect physique, in her queue, it was Azriel Singer who received her invitation.

Good evening, Azriel Thank you for reaching out. I would like to meet with you to further discuss what you’re looking for. Could we meet at Sevenda’s on Main on Saturday afternoon? I’m available between 2pm and 5pm. Looking forward to meeting you. Gwyneth

She had only just opened her reading app when she received a reply.

2pm at Sevenda’s works for me. See you there. A. Singer

~~~

Azriel Singer was… quiet.

And, if she were honest, a bit of an ass.

He sat across from her, arms folded across his broad chest, wearing a frown. And for the life of her, Gwyn couldn’t figure it out. She knew she was attractive, and he had been the one to submit an application and agree to meet. So what was his problem?

“Listen, I don’t know if you were put up to this or have had a change of heart. But you clearly don’t want to be here, so maybe we should just part ways and call it a good try.” She shrugged as she hit him with some truth. It never bothered her if compatibility turned out to be an issue – that’s why they had these meetings. Might as well be as upfront as possible and get it over with.

The tall, unfairly handsome man across the table snorted. “Didn’t think I’d ever find an escort turning down money.” Annoyance flared to life, spiking her pulse, but she kept it cool and let her grin curve into something feline.

“You’re not the only man in my book, Azriel Singer,” she purred. His eyes grew cold. Calculating and hard.

“Of course not. How many men do you have on the docket tonight? Or is there a corner you prefer?”

Gwyn cocked an eyebrow, her ire simmering just below the surface. “That seems particularly judgmental considering you’re the one who requested my services.”

“My brothers suggested I try something to get a girl out of my system. A one-time thing. What’s your excuse?” he seethed.

In one surprisingly graceful move, she looped her arm through the handle of her purse and rose from the table. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Mr. Singer, but I’m going to humor you,” she explained curtly, stepping around her chair and pushing it in. She waved down a waiter and handed him her card before turning her burning gaze back on the man whose eyes flickered back. “I chose this profession, because I did not always have that choice. I choose who. I choose when. Nobody else. And that is power.” The server returned, and Gwyn furiously signed her name on the dotted line and gave him a radiant smile and a thank you.

“Have a lovely evening, Mr. Singer,” she hissed, “and you’re welcome for the drinks.”

And with that she stalked off, intent on messaging Tarquin Summers as soon as she returned to her apartment.