#If you want it to be a cocktail and not a mocktail I would say 1 tablespoon of spiced rum is the answer

[darnell-la]

𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧

pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader

warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.

request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.

note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.

teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…

———

How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.

“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.

“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.

“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”

“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.

“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.

“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.

“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.

“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.

“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.

Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt

“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.

“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.

“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.

He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.

Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.

“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.

Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.

“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.

“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.

“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.

“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.

“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.

“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.

“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.

“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.

“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.

“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.

Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.

It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.

What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.

He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.

“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.

Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.

“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.

Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.

The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.

Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.

Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.

Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.

“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.

“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.

“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.

Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.

Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.

“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.

“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.

“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.

She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.

“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.

“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.

Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.

The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.

The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.

“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.

Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.

Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.

[carouselcometh]

The Black Lodge! Now in liquid form!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

First date: Frank takes you dancing

Of course he comes to pick you up with a bunch of flowers in hand and a sweet kiss on your cheek.

He looks so good, shirtsleeves pushed up to his elbows showing off the thick veins crossing his forearms, and you spend the whole ride in his truck yearning for the moment when he'll put those arms around you.

But first, when you get to the venue, he buys you whatever drink you desire, whether it's a ridiculously fancy cocktail or mocktail, a whiskey, or a bottle of beer like he's ordering, whatever you want.

You notice how he listens closely and looks right at you when you're talking, it makes you feel like you're the only person in the room. You can't help the slight heat from coming to your face whenever he catches your gaze and his lips spread into a handsome smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

The local band is playing something mid-tempo and catchy, and you find your fingers tapping along to the rhythm on the side of your glass.

When he gets up from the table, extending a hand, you're full of nervous excitement. His hands are warm and sure and he moves one to the small of your back to guide you onto the dancefloor sending little shivers up your spine, and when you get closer he smells so damn good you want to eat him.

He lets your fingers intertwine, his hands so big but he's gentle with you as you start to move together to the music.

Thoughts of him doing other things with them come unbidden into your imagination as he competently dances you around the floor, like how his fingers would feel pressing into the soft flesh of your hips, or maybe even his hand wrapped firmly around your neck as you're on top of him...

Your other hand is at his shoulder and you can feel his muscles flex slightly under his shirt as you trail your hand slowly down to rest on the broad expanse of his chest.

Then you laugh out in surprise as he suddenly twirls you in a circle and tightly pulls you back in to his embrace.

"You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" He asks you earnestly, determined to ensure you feel comfortable, and you nod, your face lighting up with your smile.

"What if I told you you're doing everything right so far?"

"Anythin' more I can do?" he says, those warm brown eyes only further stoking up the flames of the fire that is burning at your core.

You're no longer really dancing, just gently swaying together, the tension between you both feeling like something could break at any moment...

"You could kiss me?"

It's as if he's been waiting for years for you to say those words the way his eyes instantly flicker down to your lips.

Frank brings his fingers up just under your chin, tipping your head towards him as he leans in. As your mouths meet in a soft, sensual kiss you cannot help the little noise of pleasure you make now that it's happening, and as you kiss back he's deepening it, fingers skating along your jawline to cradle the side of your head, pushing into your hair and guiding you with just enough control it makes your knees weak.

You both only pull away far enough for your foreheads to touch, the bustle of the dancefloor and the bar fading into the background.

Dancing then becomes dotted with your languid makeout sessions, eventually culminating in you leading Frank back towards the table so you can pick up your jacket and bag.

"So are you gonna take me home, Marine?"

Frank chuckles, shaking his head as he smiles, but evidently glad that you're game to continue this elsewhere.

"If that's what you want, then yes I am." he replies in a low voice, stealing another soft kiss from you, and you're met with a deep rumble from his chest as you playfully nip his lower lip with your teeth.

[financeprincess]

Alcohol is literally poison. I love the taste of a good champagne or a rosé or a yummy cocktail but it’s not even worth it to me anymore. I’ll stick to my tea and water and mocktails. There are literally no upsides to it. It’s horrible for your overall physical health, your skin, your mental health, and your wallet. Being intoxicated is a risk, especially if you’re in public. You’re exponentially more likely to be the victim of violent crime if you’re intoxicated, this is statistically confirmed. Don’t even get me started on the drinking/clubbing scene. You will not find any men of value out drinking, trying to pick up women. Not to sound like a puritan but it really is a culture of straight up degeneracy. Do you really want to meet new people who the one thing you have in common with is getting drunk? You also run into the possibility of getting drugged, assaulted, or even kidnapped especially if you’re not hyper aware of your surroundings. It looks like fun when you’ve never experienced it before or if you’re in a new and exciting place but trust me when I say you are not missing out on anything.

If you want to meet new people, go to conferences, hobby meetup groups, exercise or hobby classes, networking events, volunteer groups, country clubs, sporting events, gallery openings, orchestras, the ballet, concerts, historic tours, museums, workshops, farmer’s markets, the aquarium, even going out to an upscale restaurant by yourself with a good book or with some girlfriends would be a way better option. You don’t need alcohol to have fun or make new friends, I would argue it actually makes it harder to do those things.

[cwritesforfun]

The Bear: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x Fem!Reader: Business Dinner

Enjoy;) Masterlist

(YES, the plot has changed. I do not own The Bear characters.) Y/N = Your Name

Y/N's POV

You finish getting ready and you walk out to your living room where you see your boyfriend pacing. He was pacing earlier, but you were hoping he had stopped when you did your make-up. You exclaim, "Carmy, baby, what's wrong?" He turns to you, sees you, and says, "Wow honey, you're gorgeous. I mean, jaw-dropping stunning. Let me see you twirl." You twirl and he says, "I can't believe I'm your boyfriend. I'm so lucky that I have you in my life." You wrap your arms around his neck and say, "I'm lucky to have you in my life too. I've never been happier." He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you gently. He asks, "Are you sure you want me as your plus one tonight? I'm sure one of your friends would go if you asked." You answer, "Yes, I'm sure. I can't wait to show you off. I'm so proud of you and your success with the Bear. You also said you couldn't wait to try the food at this restaurant, so I'm happy we get to try it together. Why? Where is this sudden hesitation coming from?" He replies, "I just ... I know that there are going to be a lot of business people tonight with their millionaire star boyfriends or girlfriends. I'm not even close to that. Everyone at the party doesn't have anxiety like us and I'm stressed I'll say something wrong. Times like these make me feel insecure about who I am and like being together doesn't work." You ask, "But if you ignore tonight, do you think we work together?" He answers, "Yeah, I mean sh** I love you. I haven't told you that, but I'm nervous and stressed. I don't want to lose you." You say, "I love you too, Carmen Anthony Berzatto. I think you're the sweetest and kindest boyfriend ever." He kisses you on the cheek and you continue, "I know you're nervous, but you'll be okay. We'll be together all night. You won't ever lose me. And I refuse to hear you talk about yourself as worthless and think that. You're worth the weight of the world in gold. You're the love of my life and you're perfect to me. I love every side of you." You kiss and he says, "Ok, if we are going, we should leave before I back out. And, warn me, next time you say my full-time, I felt like I was in trouble." You laugh and you leave the apartment.

Carmy drives you both downtown and you use the valet at the restaurant. It's free valet tonight, but we're allowed to tip.

Outside the restaurant, one of your coworkers waves and walks up with their partner. The coworker says, "Hi, I'm Pippa and I work with Y/N. This is my partner, Jennifer." I introduce Carmy to them and meet Jennifer. We all head inside and ask to be seated at the table together. I know Pippa and she's a good person. She's also very passionate about food. I've met Jennifer once or twice when she drops lunch off for Pippa at work. She seems cool. They should get along with Carmy and not make him feel anxious.

Drinks are being ordered. I know Carmy is still working on staying away from alcohol and being clean. I'm so proud of his journey with it so far. I lean over to Carmy and say, "Check out their Clean Cocktails. It's their version of mocktails and they're really good." He kisses me on the cheek and says, "Thanks babe."

We then get up to get a salad from the salad and appetizer bar. Carmy gets excited to see the fresh fruit and hot fresh bread. The restaurant has some pepper that makes him excited since it's hard to get, so he tells the chef behind the bar that he is the head chef at The Bear and he wants to know more about how they use it/cook it. The chef behind the salad bar says he will send the head chef to talk to Carmy about it after the salad servings are out. This excites Carmy and you're so happy that he is happy.

You both mingle with a few people as you walk back. You can tell some of their eyes linger on Carmy an extra second or just stare weirdly at you both, so you try to keep moving.

As you're eating the salad, the head chef of the restaurant walks up and asks if we want to see the exclusive inside of the preparation of the peppers as well as the meat. Pippa, Jennifer, Carmy, and I follow him to the back. We learn about their process and they let Carmy try, which makes the head chef intrigued. You all try them hot off the pan and they're so good. We then head back to our seats.

The entrees are served and you notice your boss walking over with his wife. Note about your boss, he thinks he's the best boss and the smartest person in the room at all times. His wife is super fake and clearly is only with your boss for the money. Your boss exclaims, "Hello Pippa and Y/N! I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting either of your plus ones yet tonight." Pippa says, "This is Jennifer and she's one of my best friends. You also might recognize her from The Chicago Bandits Pro Softball Team. She's the pitcher and the captain of the team." Jennifer shakes your boss' hand. Your boss says, "It's nice that you were able to make it. I'm sure practice keeps you busy." Jennifer replies, "It's the off-season, so I was able to be here. It's a lovely dinner." Your boss nods. To cut the tension, you exclaim, "It is a great event. This is my boyfriend, Carmen Berzatto. He's the head chef and owner of the restaurant, The Bear." Your boss' wife says, "One of my girlfriends said you had lovely appetizers and a fine wine selection." Carmy smiles and says, "I'm glad, tell her thank you. I helped hand-select our whole menu and think it all pairs well with our wines. Our sommelier hand selects it all as well." Your boss asks, "I'm glad to hear you have a sommelier. Do you think that we could get a reservation there for Tuesday at 7:15?" BRUH wtf?!?!?! The Bear is usually full at peak dinner times and most reservations are already fully booked. Carmy pulls out his phone and says, "Sure, enter your details. I'll send a confirmation of the reservation. We'd be pleased to have you." Your boss enters his details and asks, "Will you be working that night?" Carmy answers, "Yes sir, I will." Your boss hands Carmy his phone back and replies, "Good, we want the best experience." Carmy replies, "My staff is highly trained and all have completed training with chefs worldwide. And, my sous chef is the expediter as well. You have nothing to worry about." Your boss nods and then asks, "How did you go behind the scenes tonight? I saw that you all met the head chef too. It took me forever to meet him. I thought he was avoiding me." And for good reason lol ... You exclaim, "Carmen was talking to them about their peppers. The head chef had heard of The Bear and knew of Carmen's work from NYC as well as here, so he was excited to invite us back into the kitchen. They gave us a tutorial on preparing them, and we tried them hot fresh off the pan." Your boss nods and then leaves with his wife. That was weird, ok.

When they're far away, you ask, "Is there even space free at The Bear on Tuesday?" Carmy says, "We always save a few tables for walk-ins, so yes." You reply, "You should put them by the bathroom." Carmy replies, "No, I'm not that mean." Pippa says, "You should spit in their food." Carmy replies, "I don't want it to bite either of you in the butt if he hates it. They won't be at a prime table, but I'll make sure my staff are on their best behavior. I'll even stop by to check in on their meal." Pippa says, "Don't give them a discount. They have the money." Jennifer says, "You're so evil, babe." Pippa laughs. You say, "Yet there was no lie in what Pippa said."

Dinner finishes and light desserts are served. It's sorbet, which is cold and refreshing. Your boss thanks everyone on the microphone and everyone is reminded to pick up the free swag bags by the door prepared by his wife.

Pippa, Jennifer, Carmy, and I leave together. The swag bag includes a bottle of wine, soap made by the boss' wife, socks with your work logo, and extra pens with your work logo.

You tip the valet and you get in the car.

At your apartment, you strip off the dress and slide on one of Carmy's shirts and your pajama bottoms. You go into the bathroom to wash your face of make-up. Carmy walks in, wraps his arms around your waist, and says, "I'm glad I went tonight. I liked being with you. I also will admit that I liked your friends. Pippa and Jennifer were cool. I don't like your boss or his wife. They kind of suck." I laugh and reply, "Yeah, they're not the best. Why did you give them a table this week at your restaurant? Also, I need to rinse my face." You move slightly out of his arms to wash your face then you say, "Ok, we can go to bed." Carmy holds your hand and you both get into bed. You exclaim, "I loved being with you tonight. You're the best boyfriend for going and for putting up with my boss. I feel like I didn't get to show you off as much as I could have. I forget how many people I dislike at work and don't want to speak to. Ugh, I wanted to tell everyone how cool you are and why you're a catch." He laughs, kisses the side of your head, and says, "Baby, it's okay. I think you're a catch too. I'm sure people saw us together and thought we were just the hottest couple." You laugh and say, "I mean we are." He kisses you as he laughs with you.

Masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole for pretending to be younger?I 25gf (she he they) am possibly going to a fundraiser event for a local cat rescue later this month and I have a dilemma based on the wording on the notice/invitation for it. Please note that I'm not directly affiliated/work for this organization so they have no way of knowing my age without actually looking at my ID. With that in mind here's what my issue is. On the notice for the event they say the ticket for it will buy you one plate and 1-2 alcoholic drinks for ages 21 and up and one plate plus 1-2 mocktails (non-alcoholic cocktails) for anyone under 21 years old. The thing is I stopped drinking alcohol due to a previously undiagnosed liver condition almost a year ago and well obviously 25>21. I don't really want to have to divulge my medical information in order to justify asking for non alcoholic drinks only so I'm wondering if my best bet is to just claim to be 19 or so which is how old I've been told I look anyway so that I can just get a couple mocktails or fruit juices without any hassle. But I'm also wondering if it's like morally wrong or something to lie about my age even if the odds of me getting found out are pretty low. I'm honestly not sure if I could just ask for the underage drink option even though I am of age but the advert for the fundraiser seemed to imply I couldn't so my only other option is to bring an under 21 guest with me and take their drink(s) from them which would be kind of a dick move to said guest. One last point is that since I might want to adopt a cat or two from them in the not super distant future I might be shooting myself in the foot by claiming to be only 19 because they're really strict about only adopting out to folks who are at least 21. So needless to say if I do end up going after all I'm leaning towards just claiming to be younger than I am especially since it probably won't hurt anything and will allow me to preserve my health without giving personal details of it to strangers but I'm conflicted for a few reasons especially the last one. So tumblrinas WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXV. “Mr. Wayne”

parts: previous / next

plot: debuting a new playboy persona, Bruce banks on a moment of reprieve that never comes. after saying goodbye to a friend, you make your way to city hall for a final meeting that leaves both you and the billionaire in a haze.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, anxiety, romantic tension, infidelity/flirting, mention of sexual harassment, mention of illness

words: 7.4k

a/n: a treat of a chapter for everyone 🏹 thank you for continuing to show fateful so much love! adoring the comments and reblogs, it's so fun to see your reactions ✨ soooo much more to come <3

It'd been long enough of occasional high-profile, low-commitment public escapades as Bruce Wayne. With the candidates coming, he felt it deep in his gut he had to show out and perform. He put on his best suit, had Alfred do his hair. He ordered the most expensive cologne he could find (that didn't seem to be oversaturated on the market like Baccarat Rouge; he knew Bruce would need to keep ahead of the trends) as well as the watch. He spritzed Guerlain Tobacco Honey on his wrists, chest, and neck before getting into his Bugatti. He spent so many millions in one week Alfred had checked if this was some sort of mental breakdown. He assured him it was 'only necessary' and 'only temporary', and that these items would eventually make good money at a charity auction.

When he arrived (after making a showy tip to the valet), he made a beeline for the cocktails. He asked the steward to give him a mocktail, quietly, and with a successfully deceiving martini in hand, he moseyed about the room and made small talk in a booming voice. Rich guys aren't afraid to take up space and well, as the richest man in the room...

He sipped his martini as an incredulous man's gaze lingered on his wrist. A moment of hesitation and the man appeared mere inches from his glass. "Mr. Wayne, I couldn't help but notice your Patek. Is that the Philippe Chime?" Hook, line, and sinker. He nodded, as if it were confusing the man would even approach him. He had a split second to deliberate on an asshole persona or a charming one. An easy decision, remembering his family image needed all the support possible after the antics of Edward Nashton. "Ah, a man with good taste."

They chatted for a moment about different watches and stocks (thank god Bruce had remembered to talk to Alfred to get a refresher), until a tall woman in a red silk dress tugged on his elbow. After a small laugh and excusing himself, he turned to face the blue-eyed blonde. Her smile was sparkling white and veneered, and her face didn't move a wink. "Mr. Wayne, excuse me if this is too brash but, I need to know the name of that cologne." She smiled bigger, flit her lashes, and whispered to him. "If you can't tell me, I might just have to replace you with my husband."

Oh this was going to kill him before the night was out. He grinned wider, flashing teeth, and performed a rehearsed laugh; he lowered his voice to match her evocation. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?" He winked, internally cringed so hard he thought he'd turn to diamond, and watched as she gave him a once over and walked sultrily back to the man she'd so brazenly been willing to abandon.

He knew he couldn't be seen standing around, and moved swiftly over to a gaggle of men with their martinis delicately in their left hands, positioned just below their breast pocket. The chandelier to his right kept twinkling in his periphery like an omniscient presence.

"Mr. Wayne, this renewed presence of yours..."

This was gonna hurt. "I'm glowing, right?" He flashed a bright smile and all the men grinned and rolled their eyes, their wives blushing demure side glances amongst themselves. Am I going to have to keep this up forever? Good God. He shook his head and leaned his weight on his left hip. Sip, absentmindedly. Look as if perusing through a scrapbook of memories. "There's this spa in Dubai, it does wonders for the spirit. And the body." He laughed again, feeling like he was shoving out the very last oxygen from the deepest well of his chest. "This past Spring I jetted over there for a few week-long stays, nothing crazy."

"Playboy bootcamp, hmm?" A woman in a midnight blue dress stood by Mr. Gavenstein, a popular investment broker on the Northwest side of town. Gavenstein glanced hard at her for a split second before interrupting her seduction. In all honesty he couldn't blame the ladies, remembering from a few summer camps that many upper-class Gothamite girls were raised to marry wealthy—and to lend no concern to things as trivial as loyalty to men who were probably cheating on them anyway.

As Gavenstein talked to the group (but mostly to Bruce), it became difficult to hide his increasingly strained attempts at mellowness. Bruce's first night at one of these city hall meetings a handful of years ago had led to the one and only time he'd gone out with these men, and every single waitress and bartender who served them that night got a side of sexual harassment from the husband himself. The ring his wife wore looked like it'd been longer than a few years since they gave their vows, corroborated by the same subtle chip in the gold of his wedding band. Bruce had made a small comment about the 'strange lack of respect people had for staff', and tipped the servers a few thousand each on the way out. He made it a point to lay as low as possible from that point on.

The man in the same white linen shirt interrupted the reverie by opening the door to the conference room with an announcement. "The meeting will convene in two minutes, but tonight we have an intermission at half time for the candidates to prepare their initial statements."

This schtick wasn't easy, but it was easier now that you weren't here. With the conference room's opening and you nowhere to be found, it left him no choice but to know with surety you'd left back to Washington and cut your losses. He bristled at the thought, but paid it no mind. No one here knew this wasn't the real him; no one here would be scanning to see if his hand was clenched in his pocket to try and metabolize the anxiety of performing. And if someone did notice, he would be able to effectively lie that he'd hurt his hand playing polo. Bridgit wasn't here either, and he let his shoulders relax knowing he wouldn't be grilled until he walked into the foyer of Wayne Tower.

He followed the men into the room with its sturdy, polished mahogany table set, making sure to chatter with the people at his side—until Convoy shot him a confused look as he struggled to control the din and start the meeting. Be annoying, but never rude. Feign innocence, seem to mean well. As embarrassing as it was, he had binged a smattering of critically-acclaimed films all week to prepare his psyche only to realize upon stepping back into this lion's den he'd already studied these men enough to camouflage.

Dr. Vry had been suspiciously apologetic upon your return to her office to grab supplies. She gave you the 'very best' voice recorder, a sparklingly new leather-bound notebook, and 'only the finest' 'Italian' fountain pen. As you hurried out the door she told you to keep everything but the recorder, and 'not to worry' about the price. Her Hermés Birkin bag sat bright and pink in the corner, making a mockery of whatever 'expensive' ink lie in the pen.

While she had largely been unhelpful, she had told you ahead of time that this city hall meeting would be inundated with candidates and their teams, meaning there would be an intermission halfway through meeting time. At seven sharp you'd be in the lobby waiting to whisk him to a room she'd already secured for the fifteen minutes between sessions. The key glimmered on your keyring under the shimmering streetlights as you walked to city hall.

On the way you stopped at Rai's. The store wafted with the familiar warm scent of a perfectly spiced, decadent deli, and he beamed at seeing you again. You grinned and pulled out your wallet to get a container of tabbouleh. Rai, with his deep, reverberating voice, teased you as he took the bills. "Strange woman you are, no lettuce boat! Straight 'bouleh."

"I like the tartness, what can I say?" You watched him scoop up a double helping than the cash you'd given, and felt a pang of sadness. He's the only one that's been consistent my whole time here. The only person that seems to genuinely enjoy my presence. If the two of you hadn't known each other better (coming off of a night of particularly hard partying at Mora's your first term) you might have thought he was simply schmoozing a loyal customer. But Rai had patched you up after icy falls on the way for snacks, chatted with you about early dating troubles, and you'd given him advice on how to care for his sister's elderly cat. When his grandfather had been in the hospital, and he'd received the call as you were checking out some Nutter Butters, you'd covered the rest of his shift without question. You'd had to pull an all-nighter because he'd left the keys on his keychain, but nonetheless.

"Getting ready for another school year?" Rai handed you the tabbouleh and a to-go spoon. You averted your eyes, lost in thought. "No, I'm moving home actually." The statement reminded you that Mar had yet to get back to you officially about moving things tomorrow.

His face fell, his brows pulling together. "Gotham has plenty jobs available." Now he was standing right across from you at the register, his arms crossed around his chest so he could rest closer on his elbows. "Don't tell me this is permanent!"

Anxiety was rising in your chest because you didn't want to say goodbye to him, he was possibly the only good thing in Gotham. C'mon, just uproot your entire family and move your business to nowhere Washington. "My mom is sick, actually." The truth spilled out easily for him, and thankfully no customers came in during your retelling with the tears beginning to streak your cheeks. After a few anguishing moments talking over her prognosis, he walked around the counter to wrap you in a hug. His hand was firm and soothing against your back. "Make sure you do what is best for you. If that means leaving the city, leave the city. But you must take a summer here at least once! I will feed you and your family for free."

You hoped Rai's would still be open if you did ever visit. He was the kindest man you think you'd met here, and it was a blessing he was still open—whenever someone was hungry, he'd feed them. He practically ran his own soup kitchen on the weekends, when the houseless would line up to pick some meals from his deli. As far as you knew he relied wholly on catering jobs to make the bulk of his rent. Do I even want to come back? It felt like Bruce owned this city; as much as you'd pushed back when he'd said Gotham was his, it kind of... was. His family's shadow was cast over every street and alley like a weeping willow; but that wouldn't stop you from visiting Rai. "I'll make sure of it, thanks." You grabbed your tabbouleh and spoon, and walked to the doorway with its little signs and small wind chimes. He smiled and waved at you from the register. "Thanks for being a friend, Rai. See you around!"

"I'm only saying, none of these candidates seem to actually want the best for the city."

"Well we gotta pick one of them, right? Unless one of us wants to run."

The candidates hadn't set foot in the conference room yet the space was alight with debate. Convoy had precipitated the intermission by rallying off the candidates' stances in small blurbs. "Ms. Grange is in favor of tax cuts, Mr. Hady wants to tax the churches, and Mr. March wants to increase taxes on... all of you."

"Can you believe that guy," Gavenstein was two to Bruce's left, and nudged the man closest to him. "Thinks he can waltz in here and empty our pockets." His graying hairs were sculpted fashionably above his ears on either side of his head; Bruce wondered if he painted them on to appear wise.

"The only person in this room left with a decent account would be Wayne." The man to his left chuckled and glanced at Bruce, then leaned back in his chair. Christ. He would've rather watched paint dry, then chipped off a mansion's worth of said paint with a single thumb than hear that noise again.

Bruce wanted to stay out of it, he actually wanted to leave this room forever and never come back, but that wasn't his new M.O. "At least he had the guts to say it to our faces." He got a few shrugs and murmurs before the next guy spoke.

"Grange wants tax cuts, now there I'm willing to listen."

"Hady, an attack on the churches? Isn't that unconstitutional?" The man to Bruce's right spoke like he'd never said the word before, and he stifled a laugh at how blatantly they grasped at straws to sound informed. Like a cold glass of water, Convoy announced it was intermission and to find the lobby for the next few minutes. "Our caterer has prepared ample appetizers for the break. Please enjoy!"

Lincoln... how to avoid him... As he walked out Bruce braced himself for being bombarded by the man, his opponents, and excess reporters. Never spoken to them before, don't have to speak to them now... or did he? Next week. Or the week after. He'd have more than enough time to be interviewed and photographed during the rest of this election cycle. It was already enough for him to burst simply talking with the usual suspects that didn't have a recorder on their person. He'd read up a bit on the candidates in the moments between marathoning movies and deduced a small amount about them, though the blurbs on their campaign sites seemed hastily written. Grange was indeed wanting to cut as many taxes as she could get away with, Hady was set on making sure churches paid equal tax while simultaneously cutting taxes on the elite (seemed personal), and March... well, he just wanted all the rich people to be less rich. Bruce had yet to parse if he was only not bothered by that because he had more money than someone could ever tax away.

The lobby was shockingly crowded. Three individual, large clusters splayed across the room supported the candidates, their teams swarming like flies. Reporters stood with their mics and recorders throughout, some with point-and-shoot cameras limp in their bored hands. The very second he was out of the doorframe, all eyes snapped his direction. This has to get easier eventually, right? Right? He walked to grab another mocktail, counting each step to force his nervous system to regulate. He waited behind a blonde reporter after effectively sussing out whether it was Bridgit back for revenge. He closed his eyes and took some deep, slow breaths. In, out. Innn, outttt, nose, mouth... palo santo? He'd smelled that warmth before.

"Bruce."

He spun around to see you standing with your same recorder, a different notebook, and the same slight reflection under your eyes as when you'd come out of the bathroom the night you'd gone missing. A nauseating blend of relief and anxiety displayed brightly across his face. "Y/N."

Bruce looked as he usually did now, with his perfectly slicked hair that fell just slightly askew across his forehead to look like he'd woken up that way. Only now instead of a suit he donned a dark gray cashmere sweater; it read as fancy as one, due to how expertly it had been fitted to his torso, and the same went for his slacks. You admired the fact he didn't seem wholly catering to the people here, or he'd be decked out in some starchy suit. The only way you could tell he wasn't replaced with a robot was how his face turned up looking at you.

The clock was ticking, and the room was just across the hall. You hadn't thought it would be this busy with reporters—how were you going to get him into the room without suspicion? You adjusted the PRESS badge to be loud and clear across your back, since that's what they'd be seeing. You let the notebook slip slightly to take up more real estate on your silhouette, trying to look as official as possible. "I need an interview with you. I got us a room." You strode past for him to follow in tow, knowing otherwise he'd overwhelm you with questions that would only waste the clock. Heavy footsteps behind you (how was he the picture of stealth in the heavy suit?) alerted you to his compliance.

You messed with keys on your keyring and jammed it into the lock, which was stuck. You expected him to gaff and make a snide comment, but nothing interrupted the silence. A few moments later and the door opened cleanly to a dark conference room about half the size of the one he'd just came from. As he made his way quietly in and shut the door behind him, walking easily to his seat, you grew increasingly suspicious and frustrated. He pulled these emotions out of you so easily it was almost clinical. His compliance frustrates me? I almost want to call him out on it, but we don't have time. In, and out.

The notebook slid across the heavy glass with a small squeak. First page was clean, and you pulled out the insert you'd tucked into the middle. The other half of the table was so silent you had to monitor your periphery to see if he hadn't somehow made a getaway. Unfolding the beige paper in the middle revealed your printed question sheet. You cleared your throat to give the customary announcements you'd role played so much in intro journalism. "I'm with the Gotham Gazette, and this interview will be transcribed and published in next week's paper, both physical and digital." You glanced up to see him sitting nicely with his hands rested together on the table top. Through the streaking in the glass you could see the ghosts of where he had first placed his hands. You drew a deep breath. He makes intimidating eye contact. "Feel free to decline answering any question, all I ask is that you answer things as honestly as possible. Though I may cut answers short if they run long. As this is your first interview we would like things to be as comprehensive as possible, outside of what is already known via public record. As soon as I ask the first question I will hit RECORD." You clicked your pen ready and hovered above the switch. Your hesitation combined with his silent acceptance of this made the room drop twelve degrees. "Is there any topic off limits, Mr. Wayne? You and your team will not be able to edit your answers after the fact."

Mr. Wayne? He clenched his fingers against the backs of his hands. His eyes narrowed, but your eyes were fixated on the ruled paper beneath you. You must've cried on the way here, your tear troughs were still slick. Bad news at home? Scared of him? You'd rather get fired than be in this room talking. What could've brought you back? He shook his head. "Not that I can think of. I'll let you know."

So cordial. You clicked RECORD after landing on an acceptable first question. "Mr. Wayne, this is your first public interview. Why did you choose to break the silence now?" You readied your pen to jot any additional questions that spurred from his answers.

He'd anticipated this question months ago and had an immediate response. "The timing finally feels right. For so long I hid, still feeling trapped by my parent's murder. Now that I've hit 30, well... I realized I need to make myself useful. You could say I finally figured out I didn't have to die with my parents."

Jeez, that's rough. You pressed on with the follow-up without obvious sympathy. "I'm sure many are wondering why the timing was not right after the historic flooding? Gotham was in dire need."

"I didn't want anyone to mistake my intentions. I figured if I were to do public-facing work, it would read as opportunistic. I don't want to capitalize off of tragedy. I spent my time working on the back side of rebuilding."

Hmm, convenient. But you couldn't say that on tape. You still refused to look at him, buried into your notes. You'd seen him in the doorway, how he'd transformed from a recluse to an unapologetic schmooze overnight. On your way to get him at the snack table you'd heard some women talking about flirting with him at the meeting's front end. Was he genuinely as good as he seemed? His intentions only the purest and brightest? You struggled to believe it.

"Speaking of rebuilding, at Gotham University's commencement you announced a desire to invest in Gotham city. Any sneak peeks for your Spring 2025 rollout?"

In truth, he hadn't started. He figured he'd speak to Alfred, get a board meeting set up, meet with his investors, and within a month there would be a budget drawn up for his funds. He figured he could start it early in the new year, but your delicately tamed tongue nor floundering public opinion would be charmed by the honest answer of 'I've put it off'. "Pass."

That bristled you, and for a half-second you seriously considered stopping the tape; but this wasn't personal. It couldn't be.

Why aren't you looking up? So... stoic. Guarded. Sitting down here had happened so quickly, with no fuss or snide commentary. Did Vry outfit you with a shock collar and a mic? As much as he hated your rustling, the stillness was more uncomfortable, eerie even. It was like you had a moat between the both of you, with armed guards ready to fire.

The LED lighting was causing an ache in your temples. Your feet were cramping from walking halfway across town in heels through cobbled streets, and being in a closed room with Bruce was choking out your oxygen. Every time you saw him he grew larger, and tonight was far from the exception. You'd been smacked with his cologne at a ten foot radius, he was actually taking up social space in the foyer, he'd worn well-tailored clothing for once... next question. Ask it. "With efforts towards rebuilding a better Gotham in your near future, we have come to know the business side of you far more than the personal. What brings you joy in your everyday life, away from the cameras?"

These questions were far kinder than he'd anticipated from you. Did Vry... threaten you? He refocused on your question to try and rid of the thought before he blurted it out to you. He didn't know what brought him joy, but it didn't seem the type of question to skip. His heart fell into his chest as he continued to come up empty-handed, no matter how deep he sifted into his memory.

It'd been thirty seconds and still no answer. He'd forced your hand to look up at him, and his face was pale. His eyes moved from left to right as he peered at the center of the table. Does he ever feel joy? When do I feel joy?

If this were any other reporter he would lie. Say he loved meeting with people in the city. Loved traveling. Loved sports. Maybe he woke up every morning with the songbirds, a cup of coffee in his right hand and the daily stock exchange pulled up on his MacBook. Maybe his muscles were from a home gym, playing polo, sparring with his butler. That won't fly with you. But this wasn't about you. Even still, as he tried with utmost desperation to sink it into his skull, he couldn't get the words to form in your presence.

Do I ask him if he heard me? Clarify? "Mr. Wayne," He met your gaze and it constricted your chest. You were afraid. Afraid of him and his influence, afraid of writing a good enough essay, afraid of the time running out, afraid of your mother's condition, afraid for your father if she passed, afraid for yourself and this debilitating loneliness that sat like a brick in your gut.

He spit the word out. "Pass."

God that was sobering. You swallowed a hard lump in your throat, and the room went stale in the silence. A dissonant sensation of camaraderie fluttered between the two of you. You drew a sharp and deep breath. You'd had cramps this morning, your period was on the way. You'd have cried if a dog looked at you the wrong way; this new sympathy was environmentally influenced. Next. Question. "What motivates you?"

He stared at you, blank-faced. When would this facade break? Almost imperceptibly you narrowed your eyes in response. "My parents. I want to make the city safer so no one else has to lose anyone. My parents believed in Gotham. I want to make them proud."

If only they knew their son was an infamous vigilante. Next question. You didn't have this written down, but followed off his last answer. "You speak very fondly of your parents, even after what Riddler said of them. Two months after the tragedy, Commissioner Gordon made a statement on behalf of Wayne Enterprises. Is there anything you'd like to add to it?"

If his response hadn't been succinct and wholly accurate to his feelings, he might have regretted spitting something out without thinking. "My father was a good man. Everything in the statement I gave Gordon can be corroborated. It wasn't right what he did, trying to bribe a reporter into silence, and I do not support that in any circumstance. But that is all that he did. Falcone is the one who decided to threaten and murder an innocent."

You might strike that question in editing, as he didn't add any additional information outside of what was already public record. Glancing at your phone showed that five minutes had already passed. You pressed on. "Speaking of your parents, what positive memory stands out when you think of them?" This would be the last question related to his parents; you gathered it was a kind segue between what was known to the public and comfortable to Bruce, and more personal questions.

Except, it wasn't that easy. Bruce sat in silence again, unable to stir up positive memories. This combination of questions was making him dizzy from shame. How the hell could he not remember a good memory with his parents? He knew he had good memories, he knew there'd been beautiful times with his mom, his dad. He knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Yet... "Pass."

You shut your notebook and turned off the recorder. He watched it like a hawk. "If talking about your parents is off-limits, tell me."

Bruce shook his head, a bit too fast and a bit too hard. "My mind is cloudy tonight."

"Finally gave in and drank on the job?" He certainly hadn't been in line for the food.

He shot a glare at you, a glare that caught the light for a brief second, exposing you to the rich blue of his irises. "Thinking about it." He sat his head in his hands. You were left stunned, looking at the back of his head across the table. Tower Bruce would've said something brutal back to you, maybe even accused you of being an alcoholic. He was unarmored. It was unnerving.

You let the silence sit. He stayed with his nose nearly touching the table, his hands massaging the back of his neck, slowly, thoroughly, painstakingly. For the first time since knowing him you felt like you were sharing space with an actual human... nah, not quite. He still stalked my family. When he looked like this though, this was his greatest defense against being found out. Batman didn't read as sensitive or lost in troubled thoughts. The same muscles rippled down his shoulders and back, but the bullets had been removed from the gun.

The silence went on, and it must've been another two minutes passed staring at him. You could've color picked his hair at a Home Depot you'd been so well acquainted with its hue. You remembered you hadn't truly responded to him when he'd told you why he paid for your parent's debt. You gripped the sides of the chair and broke the extended silence. "Was it true what you said about your, motive?"

He roused, barely. His eyes were tired, his body limp like a ragdoll. More hair had fallen across his forehead, and after the impromptu neck massage his clothes looked a bit haggard, wrinkled in new places and scrunched up just below his ribcage. He wanted to clarify what you meant about motive, but he didn't want to give you the glee of knowing he had no idea what you were talking about. His body was melting in front of you, relaxing until he became one with the chair, but his mind was frantic and frayed. Motive about Batman? Motive about wanting to help Gotham? Why weren't you asking him more interview questions? Why were you here?

The silence had been too long and you already regretted asking him. You flicked the recorder back ON. "Mr. Wayne,"

"Y/N."

OFF. "That's not professional,"

"I never officially agreed to this anyway."

"What do you mean? Dr. Vry said—"

"What did she say?"

"She told me you'd only talk to me."

"Why would I only talk to you?"

This felt strangely reminiscent of when you'd awoken in his bed. Anything that connected the both of you was tossed aside like a rotten, wormy apple by the billionaire. You hoped he felt too accosted to recognize the hurt in your tone. "She said you asked for me, Bridgit said,"

He rolled his eyes. "I couldn't tell them I was worried,"

"Why?"

"You left in the middle of the mission."

"I left a note."

His scoff echoed off the whiteboard. "I'm supposed to trust that?"

He pissed you off so easily. Leaving me alone in an alleyway, expecting me to just stay put? After he'd effectively bribed me? "You're lucky I left anything at all."

"Lucky..." He laughed as he shook his head. The guts of you.

The nerve on him. You tucked your chin up and away from him. "What tech did you use to find me?"

This again. "Nothing."

I'm supposed to believe that? "Sure."

"I waited until the next meeting. When you didn't show,"

"You asked where I was, okay, I get it." There was a part of you that believed Bruce, or at least wanted to; a part of you that begged to turn off your brain and naively believe all the pretty words from the pretty man so you wouldn't have to feel so on edge. If you believed him, you weren't supposed to listen to the frustration, the lashing out, the way he spit his words at you graduation night. You were supposed to kindly follow him into the dark and abandoned streets of Gotham night life. He'd only accidentally seen your texts, looked you up, found your mother's doctor, and put his card on file, and all out of the kindness of his heart. It had nothing to do with you knowing information that could land him behind bars. He didn't do bribes. He was just another upstanding citizen who spent his nights breaking people's jaws.

"How dumb do you think I am?" If this was really your last night here, he really had no answers, and he really wouldn't hurt you, nothing would come from a little hotheadedness.

He struggled to size you up. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, my mom's sick. But I don't think you're out here filling up GoFundMe's—why me?"

"I don't know."

"How could it not be a bribe? Do you regularly pay other people's medical bills?"

You'd backed him into a corner... or maybe he had. "I felt compelled."

"Because I know confidential information about you."

You weren't not making sense, it just wasn't what had happened inside his head. He didn't know what happened in his head, besides his snaring, insistent fixation on how quickly you'd found him out. "I don't think that played a part."

"This is why I asked if you think I'm an idiot, because? You 'don't think' it did?" Your fingers made air quotes for good measure.

"I don't have a good answer for it."

"That's not the same as not having one."

He loathed to admit it, but you had a strong point. When you put it so frankly it begged suspicion. "Maybe I believed you more than I thought. A thank you instead of bribery." Your blank face compelled him to speak again. "Saying you wouldn't tell."

"Then why were you so mad at me that night? When you found me?"

How could he navigate away from this conversation as quickly as possible while evading your suspicions? What would he do if you asked why he'd needed your help? "I was having a rough time."

"You seemed to really not believe me."

"I was in my head."

"So what's it now?”

He barely heard you through cascading thoughts. He liked being seen; he hadn't internalized it, maybe because he couldn't fathom accepting it even months after the fact, but it felt relieving to be known. Well... equal parts relieving and terrifying. What if you knew the only reason he was here right now was because you found him out? He shrugged, a move that was too casual for you. "I hope you won't."

You glanced at your phone again and saw it'd been over ten minutes. Any moment now someone could come looking for him and your window would be gone. If he were any less analytical, you might have thought he read your mind. "The meeting resumes any minute."

"Then let's use what we have." You slammed open your notebook and tried to find a question that wasn't related to his parents, childhood, or any positive emotions. You paused before pressing RECORD, begrudgingly asking for consent to interview, since apparently Dr. Vry hadn't cleared it with the man. "Are you fine with doing this interview?"

What choice did he have? He feared Vry would never lay off of him (or you, if it mattered) if he were to deny you. And if he were being completely honest, who would he be at all willing to talk to outside of you? You were aggravating and abrasive, but because of that he was allowed to turn 'off', even if just a bit. As his mouth opened to say a begrudged yes, he came to a peculiar standstill—in that he realized he might have deflected interviews all this time as a coping mechanism. Maybe he didn't have a personality outside of the Batman, and Batman himself was only borne of tragic grief. He didn't know what propelled him to honesty, but he averted his eyes and did just that. "I don't think I have answers."

The tone in which he said it brought back the earlier sympathy pang tenfold. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a desire to poke fun and steamroll past the palpable despair in the room, but you were finished fighting. You'd be home tomorrow night, and soon the only thing on your mind would be making a life for yourself away from Gotham. This place had served its purpose, turning black and burnt as you further overstayed your welcome. This city was so big and you so gone from it you could crash into a building and abandon the car in Kansas without being caught; what meaningful consequence could come from being temporarily kind to someone who would forget you in the next five years? He didn't have answers, and that was... fine. "You have a good reason to feel that way."

He knew you were talking about the murder of his parents, and suspected this was some sort of personal comparison. After some deliberation, he went for it. "And you don't?"

You wanted to retort something about how he didn't know anything about your relationship with your parents, your life, or general wellbeing, so much so that it sat on the tip of your tongue like a yellowjacket freshly landed on its target. You cooled its vice grip by considering just how fucked up you'd feel if you'd seen your parents get shot to hell lying in a pool of their own bloody excrement. "My parents didn't get murdered in front of me."

His eyes narrowed. "I don't want pity. I've had enough of it."

"No, I'm saying it makes sense. Grief is..." You shook your head and sighed. "Strangling. All-consuming."

Shit. He'd expected you to say 'just get over it'. Thankfully he didn't have to scramble much before a hard KNOCK took the space. Foregoing polite hesitation, Mr. Convoy entered. "Mr. Wayne! We thought you might have flown the coop." A watery grin. "Please, the candidates are settling into the conference room." He glanced for a moment around the smaller, darker room you three stood in. "Well, the main conference room."

Convoy held the door open wide and a hand out to mime leaving, obviously anticipating Bruce would simply follow orders and stand to attention. No acknowledgement of you. He didn't like that. When he rose, following a squick of the seat, Convoy stepped just outside the doors in waiting. The door was wide open, and by the way his eyes tracked the floor in front of him he was very much still listening. He maneuvered round the table and hovered at your side, facing the door that was to your back. He spoke quietly, but loud enough that Convoy wouldn't think he was listening in on a secret. "Next week. Should have more time."

You'd gotten yourself into this mess by opening a can of worms. Frustrated and kicking yourself, you groaned. "This has to be in by tomorrow at 9am." Once again he was filling your periphery; you tried not to breathe through your nose, suspicious that the warmth of the honey could subconsciously warm you to him. His brows knit together as they so often did, and you felt a jump in your gut.

"Mr. Wayne?" Convoy peeked his head in and startled Bruce, whose fingers clenched momentarily, reflexively moving toward a fist. God, he's so Batman. "They'll be closing the doors soon."

"It's fine, I'll talk to Dr. Vry before I leave. It's my fault, I'll rip the bandaid off." You stood up and gathered your things. She's gonna hate me for this, but I never have to see her again. I never should've lied. I never should've felt entitled, I could've done anything and I chose this fucking mess. You could already tell you were going to have a miserable rest of the night, but at least you didn't have to type up an interview anymore.

Leave? He glanced down the hall to see the doorman looking befuddled in his direction, but there were still a few stragglers making their way in. He calculated he had about thirty seconds before attention was glaringly drawn to his absence.

You pushed your chair in and it slammed against the corner of the table, smashing your pointer and middle fingers. Bruce tracked the movement, like he always did, and you noticed it, like you always did. "She'll be angry."

Now it was your turn to shrug something off. "Can't get fired twice." Vaguely aware of Mr. Convoy's presence, you held out your hand and forced your eyes to make contact with his, the motion as heavy as lifting a slab of concrete. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne."

His hand was warm and strong. He pulled some vetiver from your perfume. His eyes were such a gentle, crystalline blue that for a nanosecond, you forgot they were his. If they weren't, you could've stared into them all night. And your eyes, they were enchantingly bright and equally deep. For no longer than a brief moment, a single split hair, something sacrilegious flickered in your eye and reflected back in his.

Quick breath in, arms back to position.

Walking out of the room felt like a hard reset. The ping-pong game of emotions Bruce had just pulled out of you was erratic. Frustration, anger, sadness, camaraderie, helplessness, defiance, sympathy, and... You barely remembered what either of you had said at all. It felt... weird. You felt doused in a blanket of sticky emotional sweat, the most peculiar, offputting sensation you'd ever felt. Mr. Convoy led Bruce towards the foyer, and by the time you finished locking up he'd been swarmed by women who pet his forearm with their long, delicate fingers. You noticed his left hand tucked away into his slacks, tense and clenched. He glanced back and caught your stare at his pocket, and deja vu grabbed him by the throat.

You took the back exit, but he couldn't linger on it. He strolled into the room and sat down, this time not by Lincoln, who was standing third in line by Grange and Hady. He flexed his hand beneath the table, his left hand absentmindedly tracing the inside of his palm; slow, swirling zigzags painted across the high points down to his wrist. He tapped his foot impatiently, revved up and jittery.

Grange was first up, standing at a haphazardly placed podium. Her assistant adjusted the mic and handed over a folder, presumably filled with projective data and other persuasive elements for the bored elitist crowd. As much as he wanted to tether himself to this conversation, echoes of his dad's voice tempting him to cling to every word said by the candidates, his mind was with you. In a few minutes you'd be long gone, never able to be contacted again. Every second he sat in this stiff chair was a foot's more distance between the both of you.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for hearing me tonight." Her midwestern accent only pushed the words further out of active listening territory. His foot tapped anxiously, each sentence increasing its fervor. You could be in an Uber by now. Already at your hotel room.

"I differ from the other candidates in my distinctive approach to city taxes. I'll be passing around a chart showing..." Her voice completely left his head as her silver cufflink glinted off the fluorescents. The insignia taunted him, its beak and feathers embedded under his epidermis, just searching for a vein to latch onto.

Fuck. He stood so abruptly the security nearly lunged at him from the doorway. His chest was heaving and there was nothing he could do about it. His brow beaded with sweat, and there was nothing he could do about it. He stammered a response to save face. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom. Carry on, please." He was already out the door.

Frantic eyes traced the perimeter of the room; reporters whipped their heads up, and a quick glance to the entry revealed a steady stream of paparazzi fighting for the sliver of window. You'd left through the back. He sped toward the hallway in a desperate haze, his good sense rapidly falling by the wayside as he turned the corner to the emergency exit. The instant mildewed, cool air smacked his cheek he broke down the alleyway; a paparazzi had been looking down a side alley from the front of city hall and noticed Bruce's rush. His name shouted behind him, then a cacophony of scuffling feet and metal. He broke into a sprint, the slick soles of his dress shoes struggling against the wet pavement. He careened down side streets, cloaked in shadow from ill-wired streetlamps, his eyes busy with a constant scan for your silhouette. Universe willing, he would—found you.

[teecupangel]

Yknow what, fuckin crossover time. Desmond crossover with Tangled The Series (or whichever name you wanna use). He’s a bartender so he’d get in great with Varian and his alchemy. The moonstone and black rocks are some Isu fuckery and it reacts to Des cause…sun? Zahn Tiri gets bitch slapped cause this jackass got nothing on Juno. Just…I think it’d be fun and I really want Varian to have more friends. #justiceforvarian

Does it have any other title? I only know it as Tangled the Series XD

I kinda like the idea of him owning the bar in the movie but, since we’re focusing on the series here, let’s say he owns the tavern in the castletown.

He’s been… ‘unintentionally’ adopting street urchins by letting them do errands for him while providing them with food and a room on the second floor of his tavern.

(It was meant to be for guests but his tavern’s customers are mostly local. The most use those rooms had were too drunk patrons he let sleep there instead of trying to walk out of the tavern.

His best sellers are cocktail drinks he invented himself (remembered from his old world) and that made him earn the name ‘Concoction Meister’.

… from a very drunk regular who got the entire tavern shouting it.

It kinda stuck later on.

It’s because of this that Varian checked the tavern out because he mistook the name as something connected to alchemy.

It wasn’t but Desmond let him have a mocktail (“No alcohol for you, kid”) and he became a regular there who liked to talk to Desmond about his ideas because Desmond can keep up (thanks to his Bleeds, most of the time) and even has ideas of his own at times.

Then Rapunzel was found and things happened…

Desmond wasn’t really planning on getting in the middle of any of these.

For one, he was find just chilling as a tavern owner.

The kingdom was peaceful and he was cool thinking of this kinda like his retirement.

Then…

He started to see Varian change…

And something inside him just keeps sending alarms all over.

Like something big was going to happen.

And he didn’t know what yet.

.

Unorganized Notes:

So in this one, Desmond is a sorta morality pet of Varian (a morally ambigious morality pet XD). He might even become one for Cass if you want but the main point is that he and Varian are close enough that, when shit hits the fan, Varian would confide on Desmond because he believed Desmond would understand him. That’s where Varian’s arc would change.

Desmond doesn’t make a Brotherhood in this one but he does have an information network that lets him know things a commoner should not know.

That information network (which includes kids Desmond sorta adopted) are gonna be Varian’s support group because they see Varian as part of their family of misfits. The kids even call him ‘big bro’ at times and think of him as one of them.

(Not that Varian and Desmond think that any adopting was happening).

So you wanted the moonstone to be an Isu related bs. This does mean that the Sundrop flower will also become an Isu related bs XD

And, no, we are not making Desmond be influenced by the Sundrop flower.

But he does react to it and the moonstone.

Because he was brought back from the dead using the same ‘mechanics’ that created the sundrop flower back in his world.

His darkened arm with golden circuitry that he hides is actually evidence. Because the light of his arm?

It’s the same golden glow that Rapunzel’s hair had when she still had the power of the sundrop flower.

And it was by punching Zahn Tiri with said arm that he kinda… skipped a few ‘episodes’ and just finished the big boss fight XD

[lesbiandanhowell]

Sam reacts to: Phantasy Mocktails with Daniel and Philippe

- THIS IS SO DOMESTIC I AM SCREAMING

- THEY CALLED IT PHOUSE

- Whole alcohol cupboard is so unlike them, like I know they are adults and don't leave the house so it makes sense but also feels so, not them.

- Love the new corner of the phouse and that I was correct about them having a PC/ office corner in the kitchen I feel so validated. (I literally predicted this months ago from one single clip)

- "Fruity" "Like us" THEM MAKING GAY JOKES WILL ALWAYS MAKE ME HAPPY

- Wait I kind of fuck with elderflower and lavender I would drink that because I love me a slightly sweet but strange cocktail.

- Spicy water sucks HOWEVER in a cocktail it does work I am not opposed to it.

- Vanilla syrup for the cocktail is a no, but in a coffee THAT I approve of thank you Phil. His gay little coffee syrup.

- NOT THE BUTT PLUG JOKE

- Dan being scared of Phil shaking that thing is SOOOO real, he is so right for that because Phil is the type of clumsy to just drop it.

- Don't pour it into the sink?! Drink it mf

- Dan pouring it out for Phil like... he could give done that himself but Dan is very 'doing everything for Phil'.

- "Tastes fully like grandma Phils words not mine" HAHAHA

- Dan's eye crinkles while he stirs the boba? Yeah he is a cutie.

- THEY WHAT. They have dragons that represent them and Dan says they need to breed, feeling normal.

- Dan's drink looks SO good but I am not a fan of the boba, everything else makes me want to order it asap but I hate boba pearls.

- Dan helping Phil literally kills me they are so fond of each other it is violent.

- THE WAY HE PULLED A "here is what I prepared earlier" I FEEL AS BAMBOOZLED AS PHIL

- Fun fact: I own a candy floss machine and it is actually the most brilliant thing to ever own, it is so much fun and the best thing for a party. Phil will fucking adore that machine ones he learns how to use it.

- NOT THE THREESOME JOKES AGAIN. Is it number 4 and counting now?

- I love Dan's weird "wooooo" it makes me laugh so hard every time and I wonder how often he does it in a day.

- "Mine's lovely as fuck" Most Dan compliment ever.

- Dan trying and failing to spin a straw while watching Phil sip his drink is such a gay panic moment.

- Dan shooting Phil with the Boba, sobbing they are kids.

- "Dip and Pips Scaley Sips" I would 10/10 go to that bar unironically.

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

“A baby.”

AO3

Part 2

Summary: Annabeth maybe doesn’t choose the best day to tell Percy they’re having a baby

If younger Annabeth could be here now, she’d be freaking out and cursing the gods. She wouldn’t know what to make of what 25-year-old Annabeth was facing right now. Her left hand with a shiny new diamond engagement ring and holding a positive pregnancy test. A decade ago, Annabeth never would’ve thought she’d be planning a wedding and starting a family with Percy Jackson.

Sure in her wildest dreams, she thought about it but despite her mentality of being six steps ahead of everyone else she never clocked in on his feelings for her. Too absorbed in hiding, and at times suppressing, her own. At least until they were fifteen. Ever since they were inseparable. Of course, their friends would disagree because Annabeth and Percy had always come as a pair.

The bathroom door was locked and she was meant to be applying her makeup. Percy was probably playing games on his phone in their living room. But Annabeth couldn’t force herself to put the test down. She kept staring at it like the test would say “April Fools, no baby!” but it never changed.

They were meant to be going on a date but Annabeth knew if she stepped out of this bathroom and told Percy, they’d never make it to the restaurant. He’d probably pick her up and spin them around the living room. They’d cry happy tears together.

Damnit, she wanted to go on this date. She was already dressed up and in heels. So, she wrapped the test in some toilet paper and put it in a drawer. Annabeth grabbed her favorite eyeshadow palette and got to work.

Percy knocked softly, “Beth, you almost ready?”

“Mascara and lipstick then I’m done.” She unlocked the door and opened it. “We won’t be late, I swear.”

Percy was wearing a navy button down and a gray tie. He looked good. Almost good enough that Annabeth wanted to say “screw it, let’s just stay home.” It’s not like she could get more pregnant.

Then her stomach growled.

“Someone’s hungry,” Percy said, walking away laughing to himself.

Under her breath, Annabeth murmured, “yeah your kid.”

They made it to their reservation on time.

“Since someone,” he looked pointedly at Annabeth, “hogged our only bathroom, I’m going to use theirs. Order me whatever to drink.”

Their waiter came while Percy was gone.

“Two waters, a coke, and can you make me some sort of fruity mocktail?”

Anytime they went out to dinner, Annabeth usually got some sort of speciality cocktail. She didn’t want Percy to get suspicious though knowing him as she did, he likely wouldn’t notice. On the off chance he did Annabeth didn’t want to risk it.

When Percy returned, their drinks were already there.

“What looks good?” He asked, “besides you of course.”

“You will not get inappropriate with me right now.” She blushed.

“What? Stop being lewd. All I meant was you look beautiful tonight.” He leaned closer, “though you do look good enough to eat…out.”

Annabeth could feel how warm her cheeks were.

Thankfully, they both turned their attention to the food, quietly looking over the menu and ordering. Their food came out quickly.

“I’ve been craving this potato leek soup all week,” Annabeth told their waiter when he asked how things had come out.

Briefly she wondered if it was too early on to be having cravings. Thankfully Percy couldn’t see her hands, she pressed her palm against her still toned stomach.

She was going to tell him when they got home.

Of course, Percy had other plans when they got home. Annabeth immediately found herself pressed against the front door, wrapping her legs around his waist, and Percy kissing her like it was his last breath. He carried them upstairs. Somewhere in the hall she kicked off her red heels and threw his tie to the floor.

Annabeth was in the midst of unbuttoning his shirt when Percy dropped her onto their bed causing several buttons to snap off. She barely heard them fall because Percy was kissing his way down her neck.

“Now can we be lewd?” Annabeth asked.

From between her thighs, his fingers tucked under her panties, Percy grinned.

It was nearing ten pm when Annabeth finally found the right moment. They were sitting on the couch, she had a mug of green tea in her hands.

“Good news and bad news,” she said.

“Bad news first,” Percy answered.

“Well, you know how we were looking to book that Montauk venue for the wedding next August?”

“They filled up!” Percy exclaimed, “the guy I talked to swore they didn’t book up until the end of November. I’ll call tomorrow and…”

“No Percy, they’re not booked up, it’s just we’re going to have to postpone a year.”

“Wait, why?” He asked, “I thought we decided we didn’t want to wait too long.”

He grabbed her left hand and straightened her ring. Honestly, Annabeth wasn’t really used to it yet. It was only a few months old but it didn’t feel odd being engaged to Percy. She had known for years now that someday they’d be right here, together.

“I know but there’s been a change of circumstances,” she replied, “good news is I’m pregnant.”

“Haha,” Percy said, dropping her hands, “very funny Annabeth it’s April first you got me good.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Sorry I figured it out too quickly. Look being with you has made me smarter I think.”

“No? Percy, I’m pregnant.”

He shook his head, “c’mon, give it up.”

Annabeth stood up and ran upstairs to the bathroom. She quickly pulled out the drawer and unwrapped the test. Percy was standing at the bottom of the stairs. So, she held up the test.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, quietly.

Percy froze and just stared up at her. “You’re pregnant.”

She nodded, smiling as she watched his face change. From shock to delight. He tripped up the stairs, Annabeth caught him on the last step.

“A baby?”

Percy pressed her face into his chest and squeezed her. They were rocking back and forth hugging for a long time before he pulled back to kiss her sweetly.

“I love you,” he said, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you too.” She was tearing up.

“When did you find out?”

“Right before dinner.”

“You had a drink at dinner!”

She shrugged, “Mocktail.”

“A baby,” he kept saying.

Like repeating it would make it feel more real.

In the kitchen, washing their mugs. “A baby.”

Brushing his teeth, through the toothpaste foam, “a baby.”

Curling up beside Annabeth, lightly tickling her neck, “a baby.”

She thought Percy finally fell asleep because he had gone silent. Until she felt his fingers tapping her belly.

“You know, I thought Hera hated us.”

Annabeth chuckled, “I guess she got over it.”

[probably-enjolras]

today was my 21st birthday and i went to a bar for the first time because i never drink alcohol from the Traumatic Childhood™️ but i got a cocktail bc wine and beer taste gross to me and i like really sweet drinks. but uh, the menu didn’t say how much vodka would be in the cocktail so we (everyone who came with me) assumed it wasn’t going to be more than they (college students who drink regularly) were used to. nope. it had roughly 4 shots of vodka in it. i drank a quarter of it. i do not recommend your first real alcoholic drink to be the equivalent of a shot of vodka when you, someone who has been smoking weed for like 4 years, is such a lightweight with it that like three hits of a bong gets you stoned for hours. also i HATE this feeling. i’m not even actually drunk rn mostly just pretty tipsy and i want to crawl out of my skin. i don’t… i really just don’t get the appeal… like you do you ill happily drink mocktails and be the designated driver forever but uh… this just isn’t in the cards for me. also? the cocktail didn’t even taste as good as the mocktails i ordered after which is such a scam like bruh i paid like double for a drink i could only drink a quarter of because it didn’t taste great AND i feel like shit? that’s such bullshit tbh i feel cheated i could have gotten like two other virgin piña coladas or something

[softstraykidshours]

stray kids fic-mas: day 11

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: hyunjin invites you to christmas dinner with the boys, and it's a little chaotic.

length: 1.7k

warnings: slight food mention, christmas mention

ficmas 2022 masterlist

"hey, everybody!" you say cheerfully as you and hyunjin come through the door, slipping off your snow covered coats and boots. 

“hey, guys!” chan greets you both with a big hug before taking your coats and adding them to the pile haphazardly thrown over a chair. 

“sorry we’re late, i had to have jinnie swing back by my place on the way here, i completely forgot something."

“oh no, you’re totally fine! there’s still at least thirty minutes until minho’s done with the dinner, so you’re basically still early. seungmin’s making drinks in the kitchen, and felix is setting up the switch so feel free to do whatever," chan turns to join the rest of the guys in the living room only to be tackled over the back of the couch by changbin. you and hyunjin share a look and immediately head in the opposite direction towards the kitchen.

“hey, minho! seungmin!” you yell. minho raises a hand in greeting without turning around, focused intently on whatever he’s cooking at the stove. seungmin dries his hands on a towel before crossing the room and pulling you in for a hug.

“i’m so glad you made it! when hyunjin said you might not be able to, i may or may not have considered cancelling myself. there’s no way i was going to be able to handle all this testosterone in such a small space without some sort of backup.”

“oh don’t worry, i’m here and ready to help harass whoever needs it.” hyunjin shoots you a pouty look and you wrap your arms around his waist. “not you of course, loves, i would never dream of harassing you,” you throw seungmin a wink, and you both let out a laugh while hyunjin exaggerates his fake pout. you give him a quick kiss on the shoulder before heading across the kitchen to lean on the counter next to minho.

he has his sleeves rolled up and an apron on while he works, stirring and flipping things in no less than three pans. “whatever you’re making, it smells absolutely delicious.”

“you can count on that,” he states, a confident smirk on his face. 

“oh and min, by the way, i have something for you. well, it’s not exactly for you,” you clarify when he raises his eyebrows in question. “it’s for the cats. i may have found the cutest little pet antlers and just had to get them all matching ones.”

“wait, really?” minho immediately sets down his spatula and turns towards you, excitement alight in his eyes. “i want to see!” you grab the bag you set on the counter and pull out the little antlers, smiling when you see how ecstatic he is. “these are adorable! they're going to look so cute! thank you!” he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a quick hug before turning back to the stove to continue stirring the food.

“of course! the second i saw them i knew i couldn’t just pass them up. i do, however, fully expect pictures of all my nieces looking like festive little reindeer though.”

“you got it. i wouldn’t dream of denying you their little sweet faces.”

you turn towards seungmin when you hear him call your name from the other side of the kitchen. “do you want a drink? i’m making holiday mocktails and cocktails.”

“oooh, yes please! that sounds delicious, i’ll take anything with cranberry in it.”

“okay! i can bring it out to the living room when i’m done if you want to go hang out with the rest of the guys,” it’s just then that you truly realize no one else is in the kitchen besides seungmin and minho. 

you look around for hyunjin and eventually find him leaning on a wall in the living room. he's laughing while watching jisung count how many marshmallows from his hot cocoa jeongin can fit in his mouth at the same time. “hey jinnie, is anyone going to help minho or...is he just going to make all the food for all of us?”

“i mean you can try and help if you want, but we all know better than to get in the way of minho and his cooking. the only one besides you who has even really set foot in that kitchen today is felix, and that’s just because he was making brownies.”

“felix made his brownies?! oh heck yeah! but wait, you’re telling me minho doing all of the cooking himself?" hyunjin nods in confirmation, and you look back over your shoulder at minho working. "and not only that, but he's doing it in his dorm, which means he also has to do all the cleaning. you all are just mean.”

hyunjin chuckles at your indignation before wrapping his arms around you to pull you to his side. “don’t worry we’ll help him clean up. well, at least some of us will,” he says, shooting a pointed look to where changbin and chan are still wrestling and to where jeongin is starting to choke on his tenth marshmallow. “plus, it's definitely for the best we did it here instead of my dorm. with those idiots around, i think we have a blender and maybe one good pan in our entire place. we don't even have four full sets of silverware. so, unless you want to be eating ramen with your hands as your christmas dinner, this is the best option for everyone.”

"hold up, rewind. did you just say you don't have enough silverware for all of you?”

hyunjin turns to meet your eyes, and you have to stifle a laugh at the haunted expression on his face. "don't even get me started. why do you think we never have dinner at my place?"

you can't help the choked giggle that leaves you over how horrified he is about the whole situation.

"hey! who's playing?" felix hollers from the living room.

"we are!" you shout back as the horrified expression on hyunjin's face somehow gets more dramatic. 

"i'm not sure who this 'we' is you're referring to, but i know for a fact that my sweet, adorable, loving partner who knows everything about me isn't suggesting that i want to play super smash bros." 

"oh come on, drama queen," you manage to say between laughs, grabbing his arm to drag him to the living room. "i didn't mean that you were actually going to play, just that you're going to come hang out and watch me absolutely destroy felix." 

"oh those are some fighting words right there, you're on!" felix shoots back, tossing you a remote before starting the game. 

you do in fact beat felix within an inch of his life in almost every round, only losing once to jisung. felix shouts and protests the entire time, changbin and jisung piping in every now and again until the living room is filled only with the loud, loving sounds of trash talk. 

"hey, when’s the food going to be ready?" changbin asks for the tenth time after you finish your most recent round. 

“it’ll be ready when i’m done!” minho hollers back for the tenth time from the kitchen.

“but i’m hungry!” changbin whines, dramatically flopping backwards onto the couch.

“you’re always hungry. don’t you have a raw chicken breast to gnaw on or something while you wait?” seungmin taunts before quickly dodging the pillow changbin throws at him.

“everybody just chill, dinner will be ready soon," chan enters the room and intervenes at the perfect time, hands on his hips while he stands in the doorway, full dad mode activated. "how about you come help me set up the tables for dinner.”

"okay!" you quickly agree, standing up from the couch, but halting when you feel hyunjin's hand on your arm.

“loves, is it okay if i go take some pictures of the snow falling out the window. i want to use them as references for some winter paintings i’ve been thinking about,” hyunjn whispers quietly to you, wanting to help, but also wanting to snap some photos before the weather changes. 

“of course,” you reply, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “i’ll make jisung help me.”

“wait, why me?” he protests. “you should make someone else do it. i don’t even know how to set up a table, so if you want it to be good, you definitely don’t want me helping.”

you roll your eyes as his poor attempt to avoid work and grab his arm to drag him off the couch.

“oh come on, you’ll do just fine. seungmin! you want to help too?” you call out over your shoulder.

“sure,” he jumps up from his chair and starts following you, but pauses when jeongin comes down the hallway from his room and yells at him.

“seungmin! come help me take pictures of my christmas ootd! i don’t trust any of these fools to get the right angle.”

“oh! sorry, can’t help, duty calls,” seungmin immediately changes gears and starts moving around the room, looking for the best lighting to take pictures in, occasionally interrupting changbin and felix’s game to make them move, so they aren’t in the shot. 

once the tables are set up, you all return to the living room to watch the end of the super smash bros round. everyone ends up cramming onto the same couch, most of them squished together on the seat, while you and hyunjin opt for sitting on the top. jeongin decides the best place to lay is across everyone’s lap, causing a whole slew of jokes from jisung and protests from changbin and felix. the whole situation is completely ridiculous, and you have to wipe tears from your eyes as you laugh harder than you have in a long time.

“dinner’s ready!” minho shouts from the kitchen a few minutes later as he places the last dish on the table. everyone immediately shoots ups from the couch and rushes into the kitchen, shouting at each other as they scramble to get a seat.

the fold up tables you pushed together to make enough space for everyone just barely fit in the room, but it’s still perfect. hyunjin places a soft kiss to your temple, before scooting in next to you and squeezing your hand. a smile crosses your face when you look around at the rowdy group of friends all crammed together and realize this just might be the best christmas ever.

[ahwp]

This is the Sippy Saturday Podcast Brought to you by At Home With Piper and The Harrington Foundation.

Season 1 Episode 1: Life Be Lifin'

Piper smiles at the camera as she's given a countdown by her producer. As she’s given her cue, she parts her lips and begins her introduction from her seat on the blush pink couch.

Piper: Hey babes! Welcome to the inaugural episode of the Sippy Saturday Podcast, brought to you by At Home with Piper. Today’s episode is sponsored by The Harrington Foundation. I’m Piper, your host, and new bestie. As if you couldn’t tell by the sash and crown, it’s my fucking birthdayyyy!!! (She chuckles softly as she repositions the mic and opens a bottle of tequila, pouring a shot.) On tonight’s episode, it’s just me and you, talking about life and how it’s been whipping my ass for the past few years cause, baby, life has been lifing the fuck out of me. So grab a drink, if you’re smart, you’ve already made you a Sippy Saturday cocktail from my At Home With Piper website, grabbed your snacks, and are sitting comfy waiting on the tea. Let’s toast to a good night, the happiest of birthdays for myself and anyone else celebrating, and an amazing Episode.

(The scene cuts to a prerecorded clip of Piper making the drink of the night. )

Piper: Tonight’s Mocktail is one of my favs, the Spicy Paloma. The recipe will be linked below with some alcohol substitute for my drinkers out there. (She takes a sip and rocks side to side while tasting it. She taps the glass with her finger nails and smacks her lips) Mhm.. I’m telling you guys, you have to try it. It’s a must.

Piper: A few very important things to know about me, I’m a 28 year old entrepreneur and a mommy of 2. I’m in therapy weekly and it’s the only thing other than God, keeping me from ending a few mother fuckers. Praise God. My kids are my world. I love my babies with my whole being and wouldn’t trade them for the world. Now let’s circle back to therapy. Baby get you some! Okay? Okay! Cause listen, the shit I’ve experienced these past few years, was enough to make me lose my mind. I completely lost myself, I’m talking didn’t recognize myself in the mirror, lost. I was so sad and depressed and just pushed away everyone I loved. Looking back on my life, younger me never expected any of the things she has now. Not the money, the houses, the kids, the experiences, none of it. I didn’t expect a bad life, but I thought my life would be really simple. I’d still be back home, I’d own a modest house and I’d be a school teacher. I just wanted to be happy and content. Instead, I’m a single mom of two, and while I’m killing this shit, this shit is not for the faint of heart. Granted I do have more resources than some other moms and I’m not saying that it’s hard in that way, but let’s not act as though carrying, birthing, and then caring for life isn’t something hard that all moms struggle with despite finances. I had a solid plan for my life and while a lot of it has come to pass, this family dynamic is not what I expected.

I grew up going back and forth between Rhode Island and New York. I’m the oldest of 4 girls and I was the favorite. Sorry girls, but it’s true. Ask daddy. (She laughs.) Life wasn’t hard even when it was. My parents made sure we didn’t see or feel the hardships of a young married black couple living part time in uptown New York or the two bedroom flat in Rhode Island that they owned but could barely afford. It was during all the back and forth that I met my ex husband at 15. I plan to have him on here one day and we can tell that story then. But basically, we were together for 8 years before he moved to LA. I followed him months later. I was a kindergarten teacher and was in college getting my bachelor’s of nursing degree. I graduated and moved to LA and when I got here, all that sweet phone talk about what life would be if I moved out here turned into some “you need to find your self ” bullshit. (She lowers her voice to mimic her ex’s and laughs and takes another sip of her drink.) Granted, his arguments ended up being true. I had been with him since I was 15. I really didn’t know who I was as a woman without him. So we break up for a while and then get back to gather, have a kid and get married. This man was my first everything. The first man I ever loved no one could have told me, we wouldn’t have lasted. Not even a year into our marriage were we divorced. My life had become motherhood and trying to please him, while his life had become being our provider and protector and we lost one another. We both saw it and I thought we were working on it, and then I found out he had cheated. It was public. I was humiliated. I remember feeling like I had failed, my self, my son, my parents. I couldn’t understand how. I followed the rules. (She uses air quotes as she sets her glass on the table next to her) This was the first time i experienced depression. PPD and divorce was kicking my ass. I was hyper focused on my son to the point that I started to push away my friends, and I wouldn't even take care of myself. I would shower everyday and that was it. There were days that i didn't eat or sleep because I just couldn't bring myself to do anything that didn't involve taking care of Prince. When I finally snapped out of it and started to get a sense of myself again, I vowed to not date. Luckly, I had some friends talk some sense into me. This is when I met Greyson, my daughter's father. At the time, I was very new to dating. I hadn't been with anyone other than Caleb my entire life. I was naive and ignored key signs that this wasn't a good partnership simply because I felt wanted to feel loved and Greyson gave me that feeling. Let me take it a few steps back and reintroduce our story to you from the eyes of a whole woman. This is a part of my story and in no means do I mean to break Greyson down, but I will not lie. I was clearly in a manipulative relationship filled with gaslighting, and love bombing. In no way do I absolve myself of my poor choices in dating this man and then having a child with him, but I will not keep quiet or spare him simply to save face. I fucked up unintentionally, but his intentions were clearly malice from the start.

When I met him, I wasn’t trying or expecting to fall for anyone. I’d actually made up my mind that I’d be single and I just wanted to have some fun. Either way, we dated off and on for about 4 months before making it official. We took a trip together and we had sex for the first time. I ended up pregnant but I didn’t know that i was until until weeks later while I was dealing with the grief of losing my mom. I feel like this was the start of the major red flags in our relationship. This man would be extremely present and loving and then go missing for weeks at a time. Looking back on my pregnancy, I don’t have many fond memories. Was he there during my mom’s passing, yes, but beyond that it was very hit and miss. I didn’t get to enjoy it unless I was being celebrated by my friends. I had no shower, no gender reveal, and I only had a maternity shoot because I made myself do it. I really put on a happy face while going through hell. Not just because I’d lost my mom but because I was in an unplanned pregnancy with a man who would up and disappear on me with no warning and then come back and love bomb the fuck out of me and gaslight me to hell. I started to realize this in my pregnancy and for reasons known now, I thought I should hold on. I knew in my mind, that I could fix this. This was something minor. He wasn’t use to relationships and I was only use to the one that I’d been in for 10 years that had failed. So here I am, a year removed from a very long term relationship and in a very new relationship, unexpectedly pregnant, and my man was love bombing me. He was inconsistent and always in some shit. I put on a smile and took care of home. Things were not great but they weren’t bad. Thats what I kept telling myself. We had some work to do but nothing that couldn’t be repaired. That was my mindset, until I realized that I was in deed on some bullshit. My daughter barely knew her dad and I was okay with just dealing with that to save face. To hold out hope that he would fix things, that this relationship, wouldn’t be a failure. That I would get my happy ending. Well that shit ended in the fiery pits of hell. I was one foot out the door by the end of it and had left my own home and was staying with my sister Syx a few weeks before things ended. Do yall know this man had the audacity to ask me to change my name but wasn’t ready to marry me? Yeah. We had an entire argument about why I still have my ex’s last name and why he wouldn’t marry me because of it. Despite the fact that this was something discussed on one of our first dates. That moment was the defining moment for me. I knew things were done. How could you love me but have no regard for me or my son? A few weeks after we talked and were trying yet again, his disappeared and I havent seen or heard from him since. No calls to see his daughter, no desire to be a dad yet this child was something he wanted so bad. Needless to say, I was pissed. It was an anger I’d never felt before. It took me such a long time get myself out of that space but here we are. I was so angry that I wanted to physically hurt this man, not because of how he had done me but becauwe he abandoned his child. My daughter is the sweetest thing. She’s so loving and smart and I know we all say that about our kids but my babygirl is something so special and I’m so angry with myself for making the choice I made in her father because he’s just a sorry excuse of a man. I tried so hard to not talk down about him but how can you not tell the truth about a person? (She sighs and sits back) the honest truth is I feel like I’ve held myself back from moving forward by trying to protect him and his character. I’ve filmed this episode 5 or 6 times and each time has ended in me crying and cursing him out in the unholiest of ways. I’m talking certifiable unhinged behavior. My therapist got a big check after those sessions. What’s changed though is the fact that I know my kids are better off without him and his influence.

As I'm growing, I’m learning more and more about myself and just life in general. For years, basically my entire life, I felt like a child needed both parents, or that I had to follow the rules if I wanted to be happily married or raise amazing kids and that’s simply not true. My babies are well rounded, well traveled, respectful, honest, and loving. I’ve done an amazing job. I have an amazing family and support system that loves my children like their own. I couldn’t ask for a better village. I believed that I my marriage would be successful because I’m a good woman who cooks, cleans, makes her own money and has other great attributes and talents. (Piper winks at the camera as she sips from her glass.) It didn’t take me long to learned that you can be perfect for someone and that shit can still go wrong. You can do your part, be the most loyal, humblest person and people will still fuck you over and walk all over you. Shit happens. Is it okay? No, but what can you learn from it? What is God trying to teach you? I feel like this past year has been the most important year of my life. I don’t work as hard, I spend more time with my kids making memories, my sister and I moving together and we’re raising our kids as a family and it’s the most wholesome shit I’ve ever done. I feel so at peace knowing that this year brought me peace by any means necessary. God did not play about me. He taught me patience, made me more aware of my own weaknesses and strengths, granted me favor and peace of mind while navigating all the shit I mentioned prior to now and the things I didn’t. He taught me the importance of letting things go so that I can move on. I’m a very empathetic person and I carry so much weight on my shoulders to understand everyone and to be understood. In the past that has caused me more hurt than anything. Instead of walking away, I’d try to fix things that don’t serve me. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I can’t be her. I have two kids that literally don’t eat unless I feed them. They depend on me and I refuse to let them down. I say all do this to say, if you’re in a season where you feel like it’s blow after to blow, attack after attack, it gets better. If you’re in a place where you can’t look yourself in the mirror without crying or feeling like you e lost yourself, then wipe your tears and remind yourself who the fuck you are. That shit it momentary. It gets better. I don’t care what anyone says. It gets better because it has to. No weapon formed against you can prosper against you, because it’s not strong enough to. We’re not meant to stay down. We’re meant to learn something and then use it to bring ourselves as the other people like us out of that hole we feel buried in. Sometimes you need a little help. Therapy was quintessential in helping me through my toughest times. Because I want this podcast to be focused on purging the negativity and creating a positive environment for growth and development, I’ve created a foundation focused on supplying resources for those who just need a little help in life.

The Harrington Foundation is a non profit organization that is partnering with local therapists to bring free therapy to those in need in our local communities. This foundation is not only meant to bring forth grief counseling and mental health services to the community but other outreach programs like feeding the hungry and housing the homeless. Too often do we hear the stories of someone needing help with no one willing to give it. I will not be that person. If you would like to help the cause, feel free to donate at the link below or visit theharringtonfound.org. If you are in need of assistance in any way, be it therapy, paying a bill, help finding a home, contact us at 1-888-8888. We have funds readily available to help those in need. Thank you all for listening to me rant about my troubles and passion for growth. This has been the Sippy Saturday Podcast. Thank you for joining means I hope I see you next week. Love yall now bye! I got to go feed these kids. I didn’t even finish my drink Chile. (Piper laughs as the scene cuts to the ad for the Harrington Foundation and her other businesses.)

[ivory-lamps]

A03: First Drink of the Evening

Characters: Daniel & Yodaka Location: Hama Summary: Yodaka makes a mocktail for the protagonist. They understand why they were brought to the Ten Nights’ Dream bar after hearing what Daniel says. Proofreader: Shay

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Location: Ten Nights’ Dreams Bar

Momiji / Kaede: (Wow… what refined mixing skills. He has a serious expression on his face which brings out his good looks… I can’t take my eyes off him.)

Yodaka: And a slice of orange to finish – Thank you for waiting.

Momiji / Kaede: Thank you!

The blue and orange gradient is very pretty. The bar’s lights reflect off of it, leaving golden sparkles – it looks just like the ocean.

Yodaka: I made this juice cocktail with you in mind.

Momiji / Kaede: Huh?

Yodaka: Your eyes are full of energy, just like fruit loved by the sun – a calm feeling emits from your entire body and envelopes everything.

I shall call this juice cocktail “The Ocean’s Gold Coin”. I hope it’ll enrich and moisten your insides. Here you are.

Momiji / Kaede: ……!

(I couldn’t help but go red…)

Thank you… Oh… it’s delicious…!

Daniel: Right? Yodaka’s the real thing. Well, just turn a blind eye to his natural seduction.

Don’tcha think it would be amazing if we could drink this every day at HAMA House?

Momiji / Kaede: ……

(I didn’t understand why he brought me specifically to this bar but…)

So that’s the reason.

Daniel: That’s the reason.

Yodaka: That’s what?

Daniel: Alright, explain it to him. For the sake of our rich home-bar life.

Momiji / Kaede: We don’t need your impure motives. …Yodaka-san, please take a look at this.

Yodaka: What’s this…?

What a shame. That’s one hefty file for a love letter.

Momiji / Kaede: A–A love letter…

Yodaka: Sorry. I tend to have an occupational disease that causes me to be loose-lipped. Putting the jokes aside… This looks like some sort of proposal.

Momiji / Kaede: Yes. Please allow me to give you a proper explanation.

Yodaka: …I understand now. In other words, the Hama Tours company is coming up with package tours in order to maintain special tourist wards within Hama.

You’re searching for 18 ward mayors to be in charge of those wards. And you’ve already found 14.

Momiji / Kaede: Yes, that’s correct.

Yodaka: You decided that people who are skilled in providing relaxed hospitality to travellers would be desirable for the Night Group, and have created conditions that they must “own a store” and “have roots in the region”.

Momiji / Kaede: Yes. Those are the conditions the president has come up with.

Yodaka: You decided to pay Flower Laundry a visit, a store you have friendly relations with, but ended up unable to meet Nagi. Then, you chose to select me, who works at the bar Danny frequents. I see.

Momiji / Kaede: I’m sure you’re taken aback by the sudden proposal. I’m also fully aware it’s rude that it seems like we brought the proposal to you as an extra thing following Flower Laundry. But…

I was certain the moment I tasted the cocktail earlier.

The Ten Nights’ Dream bar is the perfect place to provide alcohol and the type of hospitality that will heal the souls drawn by travelling as well as the physical body.

Yodaka: ……

Momiji / Kaede: If you would please read through the documents and take your time to give us an answe–

Daniel: How stiff can you get? My shoulder’s stiffening just by listening to ya.

Yo, Yodaka – this is ward no. 17. You wanna be the mayor of this ward?

Yodaka: I don’t mind.

Momiji / Kaede: Wha–

Yun Yun: WHAAAAAAT!?

Momiji / Kaede: Y–Yun Yun-san…!?

(It looks like he’s even more shocked to see that Yodaka-san had just casually agreed to it.)

Yun Yun: No, wait. You can’t just suddenly ask him to do that… You just can’t!

Yodaka: What’s wrong? Did you want to do it with me?

Yun Yun: No, that’s not the point…

Daniel: That’s surprising. You’re the one who said you could spread your wings when the owner’s not around – I thought you’d be sending him off with a party.

Momiji / Kaede: (That’s the sort of vibes Yun Yun-san gives off, huh…)

Yun Yun: …There are a lotta people who come to this bar to chat with you.

You’ll get so busy working as the ward mayor you probably won’t have time to tend to the bar, right?

Momiji / Kaede: Oh, it’s our goal to have him provide hospitality to the guests here at the bar, so his work as the bar’s owner will take precedence.

I’ll take responsibility in ensuring he doesn’t take on too much work. Please rest assured.

Yodaka: You hear that?

Yun Yun: ……

Yodaka: Both Danny and Nagi are my close friends. I’ll be happy to take on their request.

…Oh, we still don’t know if Nagi will agree to being a ward mayor, though.

Momiji / Kaede: Come to think of it, you spoke of him like you two share a close relationship. You know him from way back?

Yodaka: I didn’t explain. He visits the bar once a week to deliver the flowers in that vase over there.

Momiji / Kaede: I see!

……

(Um, I didn’t get the time to react but… Yodaka-san, he said yes to being a ward mayor, right…? Which means…)

He signed the contract…!?

Daniel: That’s what it means.

Yodaka: I’m Yodaka Natsume. It’s nice to formally meet you.

Momiji / Kaede: L–Likewise! Hooray!

Daniel: You’re way too excited. Your entire face is red. …Well, I guess our work for today is over.

Momiji / Kaede: I didn’t think you’d agree so quickly…! I’m sorry for making a fuss!

But I’m really happy. Thank you so much!

Yun Yun: ……

Yodaka: ……

It’s okay. I won’t cause any trouble for you.

Yun Yun: …Geez, that’s not what I’m worried about. What’re you saying?

I know, let’s celebrate today! All drinks will be on Hiroshi!

Daniel: Say what?

Yun Yun: We’ve got some rare Japanese whiskey that came in the other day. You prefer whiskey, right? So how about it? Should I set the bottle aside for you?

Daniel: Ohh~ That one’s aged 25 years from Kurosu! How much is it gonna be?

Yun Yun: Don’t be like that~ Come on, just buy out the whole bottle~

Daniel: You’re telling me to buy it out without giving me the price?

Momiji / Kaede: (Putting Daniel-san going off topic aside, that’s one ward mayor confirmed for now… Maybe this is a good sign. If only we could get the next ward mayor to say yes this quickly too…)

Yodaka: It seems those two are having a good time by themselves, so why don’t we do the same with some chatting?

Momiji / Kaede: Sure, what would you like to talk about?

Yodaka: You’re honest – how cute. Alright, what sorts of topics do you prefer?

Momiji / Kaede: Umm, then… would you happen to know where Nagi might frequent? Like, you’ve seen him here or there.

You’ve only seen him when he’s delivering flowers here so it might be a long shot but… I figured I might ask just in case.

Yodaka: Oh, that’s nice. You sound like a detective. And a detective always has a specific bar they visit for information.

Then, I suppose I’ll provide you with some information like a real bar owner would.

Momiji / Kaede: So you might have some ideas…?

Yodaka: Unfortunately, knowing his current location would be more difficult than trying to find a lost bird. After all, he’s the man who crossed the pacific ocean just to get to the convenience store.

Momiji / Kaede: T–The pacific ocean!?

Yodaka: It seems he’s favoured by a mischievous god. Maybe he was born that way.

Momiji / Kaede: (C–Come to think of it, the store’s pet robot also mentioned that he’s a “trouble magnet”... He was also stuck underneath his motorbike the last time I met him…)

Yodaka: By the way, I know the perfect place for people who are searching for someone. Thanks to some twist of fate, it’s also located in ward no. 15, which doesn’t have a ward mayor at the moment. Would I be of help if I told you about that place?

Momiji / Kaede: Oh… Please give me the details!

Yodaka: Of course, if that’s what you wish, Detective.

The customer that frequents that place… Well, let’s call him Morio Kinniku… this is a story I heard from him.

At the dead of night one evening, Mr. Kinniku was on his way from work, rushing home with a bag in one hand.

As he approaches the quiet street, a rather odd manor comes into view. He walks closer to it, wondering how there could be such a manor here, but just as he does, he senses there is something hiding in the shadows of the building.

Timidly, he takes a look and that’s when he sees “it”.

It turns around, aware that it’s been noticed. The “One-Eye” notices Mr. Kinniku… Lightly turns around and disappears into the night.

The name of that manor is…

“Angel Eye”.

Did you know that, apparently, there is something that bears a single eye inside of an angel?

Maybe that’s what he saw.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Location: Divination Manor – Angel Eye

Momiji / Kaede: So, this is Angel Eye. I didn’t know but it’s apparently a pretty well-known manor in the fortune-telling industry. Even Mr. Kinniku is a regular here…

Daniel: Hmm… It’s a big building but also seems pretty old.

Momiji / Kaede: You think so? I disagree, though.

(Um, the entrance is… over here.)

(We got lost on the way and it’s now evening, though. They’re still open, right?)

Man in white: Over here, I’ve spotted them!

Surround them! Don’t let them get away!

Daniel: ……

Momiji / Kaede: Huh…!?

← Previous ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Index ≡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNext →

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Blue Oak with a pregnant! S/O headcanons

Thanks for the request anon! Hope you enjoy!

Features pregnancy, gn! reader, mild references to sex

Let’s get one thing straight off the bat

Man is so stoked to be a dad!

He's so happy when you tell him

Hugging you so tight and grinning from ear-to-ear

Already talking about how awesome your kid's gonna be!

It doesn't matter one bit if baby was planned or not. his reaction is the exact same

Constantly

And I mean constantly

Brags about your pregnancy

Even though all he did was bust a nut while you do the actual work and grow a full-ass human being inside you

Red's naturally the god(arceus?)father

His grandpa is delighted by the news

Getting to witness the fourth generation of his lineage...

Not many people get to meet their great-grandchildren, it's very special

Blue is pretty (and by that I mean 100%) sure your kid’s gonna be a trainer

One of the best in fact

"It's in their DNA!" he says

Not how that works but anyways

Convinced every kick shows off their fighting spirit!

Whispers about stats and type matchups to your belly

Of course if your kid ends up wanting to pursue a different path, he'll support them 100%

He's still holding out hope though 🤞

Gets himself a DILF shirt and mug because he's that vain

he's right tho

Gets you your respective mug and shirt too

He thinks the title fits ;)

The nursery is eevee themed!

After all, not only is it a cute, fluffy and friendly

It has the potenrial to evolve into so many different and great things!

Also a very soothing colour-scheme too

He gets the kiddo kanto starter plushes too

Fully intending to have them pick their starter

Straight outta the womb lol

His main solution to your mood swings is food and compliments

Always has his hand on your bump, whether you're out and about or at home

BABYMOON fucking hate that word TO ALOLA

It's gonna be the last time you two go on a holiday alone for a long while

Plus it's a great chance to relax before baby comes

Sure sipping mocktails instead of cocktails doesn't quite have the same effect

But enjoying the warm, languid sunshine while chilling on a sandy beach, listening to waves

Not to mention gorging yourself on ice cream and malasadas

And you get to wear cute, tropical outfits!

I feel like Blue would take lots of pictures of you

He thinks you're so beautiful - he's so proud too

If you agree to it, he'll post them to his socials

Bragging all the while ofc

Does a timelapse of the photos at the end to show the progression of your pregnancy

Unfortunately, he would be the kind of guy to say yes to the nurse when they ask you (aka the person literally in labour) if you want some food

"Man, I am so tired right now..."

"You're tired?! I have been pushing YOUR BABY out for the past TWELVE HOURS!!"

[multifandominfj]

A New Beginning: A Supergirl 6x20 Re-Write

Chapter Fourteen: Let The Party Begin

“Okay everyone, they should be on their way.” Kelly announced. “Kara has no idea about any of this, and most of you she hasn’t seen since the wedding.”

“I gotta say, Lena sure knows how to throw a party.” Sara brings Ava a Martini while they wait.

“I loved your proposal, babe, but I’m even going to admit this has the makings of a Hallmark movie proposal. If that Hallmark movie were also based on fanfiction.” Ava commented.

“Those may be unrealistic…” Iris joins them at their table.

“But you have to admit, Kara and Lena are what those couples should be in the movies.” Sam finished Iris’s thought, practically the same thing.

On the far side of the room we’re Barry, Cat and Lois.

“Cat, I’m surprised with your busy schedule, you managed to make it tonight.” Lois brings over a Bourbon on the rocks for Cat.

“When my best reporter and Editor and Chief is getting engaged to the woman who single handedly helped jump start the re-brand of CatCo with her foundation’s feature piece on female run businesses, I made sure to make time.” Cat takes a long sip of her drink.

“Come on, Miss Grant.” Barry gave her a knowing look. Kara had told him many stories about how Cat genuinely cared, she just had her image to upkeep.

“Oh, sweet, innocent, slightly naïve Bartholomew. If I didn’t know any better, you were acting like an alternate universe version of that charming insect man in those comic books movies; who most definitely drank the blood of a vampire to look as good as he does, to get me to reveal how I’m really feeling...”

Lois was the human embodiment of the wide eyed emoji. She was dying to see how this would play out.

“That, my dear human battery charger, is between Kiera and I. But, if it will satisfy the very clear, and annoyingly eager newborn puppy energy radiating off you…I am…beyond happy for the both of them.” Cat chugged the rest of her Bourbon. “Excuse me, I’m going to go take advantage of the open bar.”

Stifling her laughter from not only the reveal of Barry’s full name, but Cat reading him to filth, Lois had a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bartholomew? Oh, I’m never going to let that go.”

Over by the window in one of the more lounge areas, Nia and Esme were having some girls' time. “Here you go Esme, one Dream Girl.” Nia sets before her a tall glass of a lemon-lime soda, blueberry simple syrup and blue curaçao syrup with a blueberry garnish; the virgin mocktail of her actual drink.

“They gave you your own drink, Aunt Nia?” Esme stared at both in awe. “Have you had one before? I would be bragging about it all the time.” Picking up the drink, she took a big sip to savor.

“It is pretty cool, isn’t it?” Nia gleefully took a sip of her own cocktail as she waited for the verdict from Esme. “So, what do you think?”

“It is the best thing in National City, ever.” Esme giggled. “Do you think Aunt Kara is going to like the surprise?

“Not only do I think your Aunt Kara is going to like the party with all of us here, I think she’s going to like the way your Aunt Lena is going to ask her to marry her.” The plot twist: Lena had texted Nia that day that she had learned “Will you Marry Me?” in Kryptonian to surprise Kara. Just another layer to make the night memorable.

And closer to the doors were J’onn, Ruby, Kelly and Alex. “So Ruby, your mom told me that you managed to get an internship with Lena at her Foundation?” Kelly slides that into their conversation.

“I did!” Ruby loved telling people about her job for two reasons: she wanted to inspire others, and she wanted to make a difference in the world. “For my Business Administration class we had to write a paper on our favorite CEO, and…I actually chose Aunt Lena. I actually brought that as her engagement party present. And, for Aunt Kara I got her a cookbook that has all different kinds of potsticker recipes.”

“I think she just put everyone here to shame when it comes to gifts.” Alex jokingly nudged her shoulder. “But seriously, those are some of the best ideas I’ve heard, and I know they’re going to love them.”

“And I think I speak for everyone not only at this table, but everyone here in general, that this party is the culmination of a long and winding history that has ended with hardly any stress.” Nobody said it, but J’onn had definitely jinxed it.

“Attention everyone!” Brainy had come in from outside, watching for Kara and Lena. “Kara and Lena have landed a block away and there is a 96.4% chance they will see the rest of you if you don’t get to the designated hidden area behind the wall.”

“I guess that's our cue.” Iris starts to lead everybody in that direction.

“That means we better hide too. Kara doesn’t even know we’re here.” Kelly picked up Esme as the immediate family went to a different designated area.

“I think Aunt Kara is going to be speechless, which is a first since she likes to talk a lot.” Esme jokingly burned her family, another Danvers thing she picked up rather quickly.

“I think you might be right, kiddo.” Alex gave Kelly a look as if to say, “She gets that from me, and I apologize in advance.” all while stifling a chuckle.

*Meanwhile outside the door*

“I still can’t believe you managed to get the whole restaurant…just for us.” Kara stared up at the iridescent neon sign above them, before meeting Lena’s gaze once more. “I know I say this all the time, but you’re incredible.”

“You’re worth it, Kara. Always have been.” And as she opened the door, and they both stepped inside in unison…

“SURPRISE!!!!!”

“Oh my god!” Kara’s identifiable cackling through her shock was her sign that she definitely loved the surprise. “How did you get everyone here?” Everyone filed over to give Kara a hug.

“Well, it’s not every day one of your friends decides to not only reveal their identity, but get an entire spread in a magazine as well? We had to come.” Sara’s signature dimples accompanied her to give Kara a hug. “Might I add, those photos…I may be married, but I stand by what I said when we first met.” They both then exchanged a knowing grin.

“Now that everyone is here, I think we can get this party started.” Alex declared throughout the entire room.

“Alex is right.” Kara was already at the center of the dance floor. “Brainy, please tell me you have a good playlist on that computer of yours.”

“Fear not, for I have several that are a 100% chance to have everyone getting down at the gig, as they would say on this Drag Race.”

Nia nods with approval at the use of vocab.

With the push of a button, everyone was immediately having fun. All inhibitions were gone, and the guests were being absolutely ridiculous in the best possible way.

“So what time do you plan on popping the question?” Cat pulled Lena aside before they joined in the fun.

“Before dessert.” Lena quickly answered, having thought to herself she’d hesitate.

“As much as that sounds like something out of an Indie Rom Com, that’s perfect. Especially for Kiera. Cat cracked a rare, unforced smile. And in front of Lena.

“Thank you, Miss Grant.” Lena hung back a bit, just to watch the love of her life, be the absolute goofball she fell for in the first place. And within the next few hours of everyone eating, drinking and dancing the night away, they would all be present for a declaration of love for the ages.

Here is Chapter 14, guys! Sorry I didn’t post it yesterday, I ended up getting busy. Anyways, hope you enjoy. 🤗