#Pro Series Replacement Parts

[disneyprincemuke]

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

[msbigredmachine]

You Again (Roman Reigns) - Part 1

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series.

Pairing: Bully!Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 2,500

Warning: Hints of smut, stalking, bullying

FINALLY! I've fleshed out this WIP. I'm so proud of myself! Hope you like it. Enjoy!

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

Evelyn squeezed into the crowded elevator, relieved that she’d gotten in before the doors could slide shut. She combed her fingers through her wig, smoothed down her blouse and took a deep breath as another work day that came too soon was about to start. Stepping out on the fifth floor, she fixed her face like she didn’t wish she was back in Cancun sipping on some Piña Coladas at her beachfront cabana. 

The offices of Wow Magazine buzzed left and right, with employees and staff bustling about as the latest edition of the fashion Bible was published on print and digital media today. Evelyn plastered a smile on her face and accepted their glowing compliments on her outfit. Dressed in a cute off-white sweater blouse, a white pleated miniskirt with sheer Fendi ‘F’ tights and black stilettos, the ‘Editor-in-Chief’ nameplate pasted to her door reminded her every day that she couldn’t be caught dead looking a mess at any time.

“Latte for Miss Ashton?” Her assistant, Faith, entered her office ten minutes later with her usual Starbucks order. “Welcome back, boss. You look refreshed and ready to go already!” she chirped, setting the Styrofoam cup down on the mahogany desk. "How was your vacation?" 

"Way too short. I wanna go back already," she replied. "So what's on my agenda today before I change my mind and get outta here?"

Faith laughed and scrolled down her iPad. "You got a meeting at ten with Tessa on September’s feature cover. Your lunch meeting with Roger from Finance is at noon, then there’s a couple of itineraries that need your approval. I’ve already emailed them to you."

"Sounds good." Evelyn took a sip of her coffee and chatted some more with Faith before she was left alone to get settled. At five to ten, she was walking to the conference room when she caught a glimpse of a tall, powerfully built man standing at the reception area, his back only visible in profile. His well-tailored pinstripe gray Gucci suit was a perfect fit on his big frame and all the musculature underneath. A jolt of interest pinged through her for this attractive stranger, but it was quickly replaced by shock as he turned around and his dark eyes met hers.

This was no stranger at all. It was her worst nightmare!

It had been several years, but there was no mistaking that face. It was bad enough that she’d had to look at it every single day for much of her teen years. Said face also haunted her TV on Friday nights, and given how he'd made her life miserable, she couldn’t forget it if she tried.

Oh no. No, no…no!

She felt her stomach drop when his eyes widened. Fuck! He recognized her, too! She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his fiery stare as his lips formed her name.

“Evie?”

Hearing him address her by her shortened name snapped her temporary paralysis. Ducking her head, she almost stumbled in her heels as she rushed into the conference room and slammed the door shut. Flattening her back against it, she exhaled shakily, her heart racing at a million miles a minute as she struggled to process what she’d just seen.

More frightening was the sight of him walking into the conference room just a few moments later with Tessa, Wow’s Artistic Director, a cheery smile on her face as she announced,

“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the cover star for September’s edition, WWE Superstar Roman Reigns!”

Focusing on the meeting was difficult. Staying professional was even tougher knowing her tormentor sat mere feet away, staring a hole through her the entire time. She wanted to throw up as Tessa gushed over the magazine’s newly-penned partnership with WWE, which came with a cover feature for its biggest star in their most popular edition of the year. This also meant that in just a few short weeks, Evelyn would have to see him again, as it was her job to oversee his photoshoot, wardrobe, and the interview itself. Even more nauseating was that Management was to hold a lavish yacht party this coming weekend celebrating the partnership with Joe as their special guest of honor. Clearly, a lot had transpired while she was away, and she didn’t like any of it one bit.

Neither Tessa nor Faith noticed her eagerness to get out of there when the meeting finally, thankfully ended. She quickly darted into the break room nearby and fought to catch her breath, hating that she was running around like a cornered rat. Luckily the room was empty, meaning no one could see her in her flustered state. She was known for her cool calm demeanor, but one asshole had just come into her world and turned it upside down. Again.

She couldn’t believe this! Why was the Lord testing her like this? 

Joe Anoa’i had single-handedly almost ruined her entire high school experience. For one, he made sure no boy came near her during her first three years. She was the constant butt of mean jokes thanks to his stupid football teammates, led by him and his twin cousins Jon and Josh Fatu. Her locker would often be spray-painted with derogatory names or overflowing with trash, and, at one horrific time, used condoms. She remembered the tears she’d cried after she had to clean up that disgusting stuff all by herself in front of everyone.

When her father was transferred out of state right before her senior year began, she had been beyond relieved. Most teenagers would have been devastated to be uprooted for their last year in high school, but Evelyn was ecstatic. She was never going to see Joe or his cronies again, and it was the chance to finally have a normal high school experience.

She could vividly recall the last time she saw him. She'd been so happy at the prospect of escape that, when he paused in the hall to watch her clean out her locker for the last time, she made full eye contact with him for once and laughed in his face.

"Sayonara, bitch," Evie cheesed, smiling smugly when a scowl darkened his irritatingly handsome face. 

"What are you doing?" he demanded, walking up to her, his expression intense.

"Gettin’ away from you and this fucking school forever. You’ll never see me again and I don’t gotta deal with your bullshit anymore," she replied coldly. Stepping past him, she almost fell over when he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, colliding their bodies together.

Joe leaned down, towering over her petite figure, and growled, "Oh sweetheart, trust me when I say you'll see me again. I’ll find you wherever you are, no matter how long it takes. That’s a promise."

Evelyn recalled his raspy last words with trepidation. That he had indeed found her, just like he’d threatened, spooked her to no end.

Behind her, the door clicked open, and the air in the room changed. Shifted. Charged with a palpable tension. Through the reflection of a nearby window, she saw Joe shut the door behind him. With her heart in her throat, she kept her back turned and did her best to ignore his approaching footsteps. But with only a few long strides, he was standing right behind her, boxing her in his much bigger body. She hated the way her skin prickled and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Blood pounded in her ears as his familiar scent reached her nose, triggering memories of when he had mercilessly tortured her in school. She stiffened at the reminder and struggled with her body's response to his closeness. Close enough now that there was very little room for her to escape even if she wanted to.

His hard chest molded against her back. His thick, muscular arms stretched across the table she leaned on from both sides, trapping her. She could feel every inch of him, every muscle attached to her like steel to a magnet. Her breath caught, torn between shoving him away and giving in to the arousal that pulsed through her body. When she felt his mouth close to her ear, a shiver coursed down her spine. 

"Evie," Joe breathed. His low, husky voice uttering her name set off the butterflies in her belly and spread heat through her body. As his hands moved to her shoulders, her skin broke out into goosebumps and her nipples hardened into sharp little points, chafing almost painfully against the lace of her bra. Despite her body's involuntary reaction, she held herself rigidly, staring straight ahead, giving no indication that she could feel anything.

"I thought I was imagining things," he went on in that gruff, yet velvety tone, "But no. I'd know that face anywhere.”

“Oh look, the leader of N’Stink is here. Long time no see,” Evelyn finally spoke up, her tone cold and clipped.

“Leader of what?” he laughed. She didn't see what was so funny.

“That was my name for you and the evil twins. Jon and Josh. I remember you all,” she said.

Joe smirked. “Who knew little Evie Ashton was so creative.”

“I’m not ‘Evie’ anymore. I go by Evelyn now.” She dared to glare up at him and despised the way her knees weakened immediately. He was more gorgeous than he was twenty years ago and was still able to effortlessly awaken her body with just one look, with just his proximity. It reminded her how, as a teen, she had been so confused and embarrassed by the way she simultaneously loathed him and desired him. Unfortunately nothing about that had changed. 

"This is the other reason I knew it was you." His mouth was by her ear again. To her complete shock, he pressed himself against her, and she sucked in a breath as what felt like an impressive erection lightly prodded her backside. "All you had to do was come near me and you had me so hard I couldn’t walk straight sometimes."

Hold up!

Her eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?”

“You have no damn idea how much I wanted you, Evie,” Joe elaborated, licking his lips as he gazed at her. “I wanted a taste of them soft lips. Your tits. Your pussy. Hell, I still do.”

Evelyn clenched her thighs together, failing to stop the rush of warmth between her legs at his unexpected words. “You’re fuckin’ lying,” she stammered. This coming from the same guy who regularly made fun of her skinny frame and horn-rimmed glasses back then. Total bullshit!

He shook his head. “I'm not. You feel that, don’t you?” He grinded against her again, nudging the back of her skirt a little higher up her thighs. She opened her mouth to tell him to get the fuck away from her, but all that came out was a whimper. She glanced down, seeing his strong, tanned hands now grasping her hips, lining up her ass directly against his crotch. Mindlessly, she pressed back against him, her body giving into the urges despite her brain’s protests. Lust coursed through her, drugging her into docility. The same thing kept happening back in high school. Even when she was furious at him, he'd affected her so strongly on a physical level that she felt almost drunk when she was around him. What was worse, he was the first and only boy who had turned her on like that without even lifting a finger. Not even Chuka, her ex-fiancé, ever set her body on fire like this, despite his numerous attempts. 

As a teenager, she would daydream during the day, and at night, laying alone in her bed, fantasize about being with Joe Anoa’i…wondered what it would feel like, imagined the heights he could take her to if they ever had sex…

Encouraged by her complacency, Joe’s lips trailed the crook of her neck, and her head tilted back reflexively. His steel length felt like it was branding her through her skirt. She panted heavily, air expelling in short bursts from her lungs as his mouth trailed ever closer, ghosting over her jawline and her cheek before finally landing on hers, sucking her bottom lip. For the life of her, she wondered why she didn’t push him away. Perhaps it was because she was starved for a man’s touch which had been missing for the past year. Or maybe because it was a kiss she’d dreamed of; a kiss that would set her ablaze and burn her from the inside out. It was the kiss she’d wanted for two decades but never got. Until now.

Evelyn could hear her inner, mentally-scarred teen scream for joy as she turned in his arms and kissed his soft lips back with a defeated moan. The energy between them had amplified tenfold, making her heart race, urging her to dive into him. Joe seemed to read her mind and, pushing her up against the table, slipped his tongue into her mouth, his hand leaving her waist to curl around her throat. It was the simplest, yet the kinkiest of touches which unleashed a tsunami between her thighs and another moan against his lips. She felt his dick pulse against her belly as the kiss became more urgent, hungrier. With a gentle nudge of his foot, he spread her legs wider apart, and her body jerked with surprise when he shoved his other hand inside her skirt, boldly cupping the mound protected by her panties.

“Just like I thought, you’re wet as fuck. Did I make you wet like this back then? Huh?” Joe goaded, his lips an inch from hers, making her feel every word he uttered. "Tell me."

Evelyn couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back, or her body grinding against his fingers as they circled around the dampness on her underwear before tugging the satin material to the side. His hand on her neck slipped lower to grab her breast, fondling it in his large palm as his lips latched onto the side of her throat. It was an attack from all fronts and Evelyn was very much losing the fight.

Until his finger dipped inside her wetness, which her brain computed as one lascivious act too many and finally snapped her back to her senses.

“Okay, stop! Stop it!” she hissed in a panic, pushing him off her. She glanced around the room, hoping no one else was there as she adjusted her clothes, and then raced out of the room as fast as her heels could carry her, desperate to get away. She slammed her office door shut and did not come out again until he left.

On her desk, the invite to the yacht party taunted her in its fancy, elaborate lettering and graphics, a craftwork that would have impressed her if it didn’t make her want to vomit and run away forever, or better yet, book another flight to Cancun never to return.

How the fuck was she going to get through the week? 

And where the fuck was her vibrator when she needed it?

END OF PART ONE

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

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[sophrosynesworld]

with all my love,

Edit: This is now a series with more parts available. Enjoy!

This idea came into my head, basically your significant other is an absent Katsuki Bakugo. After months of a loveless relationship, you decide to leave this note and finally move on.

Dear Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, I’ve already moved my belongings out of our home. You might not believe me, but I’ve had the majority of my items packed in a suitcase next to the front door. It’s been sitting there for the past week, but you never once questioned it.

Each day I waited, hoping you’d notice, hoping you’d ask me about it. Each day, my heart broke a little more when you walked past it without a second glance. I wanted so badly for you to see, to care, to fight for us.

I can’t live like this anymore. I’m tired of sharing a house that feels more like a cold, empty shell than a home. I’m tired of sitting alone at the dinner table, my heart sinking with every passing hour that you’re not there. I’m tired of not seeing you for days on end, of lying awake at night wondering if you’re bleeding out in an alleyway. I might not be a pro-hero, but I’m still your partner. I was your partner.

For months, I fought to gain your attention back, praying to whatever god would listen. I used to beg them, offering anything they wanted, just so you would notice how much I've changed. I started working out again, sculpting my body into something I thought you’d find appealing, hoping to catch your eye like I once did. I even joined a cooking class, learning to make all your favorite dishes. I wanted to surprise you with a homemade meal. You would have known that, if you made it home for dinner once in 4 months.

Do you remember our first apartment after graduation? That tiny studio next to the noodle shop? I find myself there sometimes, watching the new couple who lives in our old place. It's become a painful habit, seeing them live out what we once had. Her boyfriend seems kind, and they slow dance in the kitchen, just like we used to. Sometimes, I can almost hear your laughter echoing in their space, as if our ghosts still linger there.

I remember when we used to laugh and dance together, our dreams tangled like a ball of red string. We would stay up late, talking about our future, making plans that felt like promises. Now, our home your home haunts me. The warmth I once felt has been replaced by a suffocating darkness. I don't know what changed, Katsuki, but pretending everything is fine is tearing me apart.

I often wonder what your biggest regret in life will be. Is it pushing your friends away, no matter how hard they try to love you? Maybe it will be all the times you let your anger get the best of you. Could it be not taking a moment to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the simple, beautiful moments life has to offer.

I don't know if you've found someone else. Part of me dreads the truth. I don’t want to know if there’s another name on your lips, another face in your heart. I don't think I could bear knowing their name or imagining you whispering those same sweet words into their ear.

Izuku says it’s selfish, but I hope your biggest regret in life is losing me. I hope you see my face in every little thing—the flowers you never stopped to admire, the meals we never shared, the quiet moments you never savored. I hope my laughter echoes in your silence, my tears in your loneliness. I hope my memory haunts your future as painfully as our present haunts me.

If you still love me, Katsuki Bakugo, I haven't felt that love from you in months.

With all of my love,

[hazbinshusk]

day twenty-five of salem's unofficial attempt at kinktober: aftercare (huskerdust x reader)

a/n: this is the official end of the kinktober fic series! I really hope you all enjoyed it, because I had a lot of fun writing it. A masterlist for the whole series will be out tomorrow for you to check out if you missed any :) thanks for reading!

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Husk’s fur is soft and so deliciously warm against your cheek, tickling at your bare skin. You snuggle into his chest lazily, humming contentedly as he wraps his arms around your waist, claws scratching lightly at the small of your back. You can feel the feathered end of his tail batting softly against your calf, and you groan, long and low, as you feel heat press up between your legs. A soft snicker sounds at your reaction.

“Feel good, sugar?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you nod, rubbing your cheek deeper into Husk’s chest fluff. You both feel and hear his chuckle, feel his lips brush against the top of your head. “Only you would have a towel warmer in your bathroom.”

You can see Angel grin through the mirror on his vanity, and he presses the towel more firmly up between your thighs, wiping cum gently from your flesh. You hear the muffled thump of the towel hitting the floor when he tosses it towards the open bathroom door. Another towel replaces it, the damp warmth immediately beginning to ease the pleasant ache out of you. The heat borders on a gentle burn, and Angel’s hand is cool in comparison as he smooths it down over the back of your thigh, gently encouraging you to squeeze your legs around the towel.

“Best way ta get stage make up off,” he says with a shrug and a small smile. “And cum outta fur. Jus’ an added benefit that it feels so damn good after Huskie here’s had ya bent in half for the better part of an hour. Ya welcome.”

Husk’s laugh is low, light and almost giddy, the vibrations of it bouncing you against his chest and sinking into your skin the same way the heat of the towel does. The bartender lifts an arm from your waist and holds it welcomingly out to your other partner. “C’mere, asshole.”

Angel giggles, and you feel the mattress sink slightly as Angel climbs onto it beside you. You shift over against Husk’s chest to make room for him, pouting childishly as it loosens Husk’s other arm from around your waist. You reach down and pull it back around you, nuzzling into his ribs. Husk snickers into the kiss he’s sharing with Angel, pulling away to bump his nose against your hair. A purr rumbles through him, vibrating against your chest.

“Fuck, ya adorable,” Angel says with an amused eye roll, tucking his head up against Husk’s shoulder. The bartender’s wing hooks around him gently, cradling him more securely against his side. “Seriously, I’d call ya a baby, but I jus’ saw everything ya just did to our sweet kitty and it made me blush.”

You scoff a quiet laugh, and Husk’s arm tightens around you, his claws tracing random shapes on your bare hip idly. “High praise from the pro.”

“Ya’d make a killin’ in the industry, dollface,” Angel teases, one hand combing through the fur of Husk’s chest, rearranging it into something a little neater. Another hand ghosts over the curve of your waist, and you reach up to take hold of it, intertwining your fingers. “Those pipes and filthy mouth ya got on ya could make the devil blush.”

Husk bumps his nose against Angel’s hair, brushing a kiss over his forehead. “Pretty sure they did. His room ain’t too far from here.”

“Oh my God…”  you groan, leaning forward and burying your face in the spot where Angel’s chest fluff is pressed against Husk’s. It tickles at your burning cheeks, muffling their laughter. “Shut up.”

“Aww, but I thought ya liked to hear the kitty purr,” Angel taunts, and his laughter doubles as Husk pinches him in your defence. “Ooh, if ya gonna hurt me, Huskie, ya gotta mean it.”

“Hush up, you.” Husk growls playfully, kissing Angel again. This one is slower, deeper, and you rest your cheek on your hand, watching the two of them with a small, happy smile. Husk’s ear twitches when your sigh tickles the edge of it. Husk withdraws slowly, pressing his lips back against Angel’s in a few more fleeting touches. The spider’s cheeks warm under his baby-soft fur despite himself at the raw affection. You lean forward to press a kiss to Angel’s shoulder, and Husk touches his lips to your temple as you do, the cold of his nose against your hair. “He’s right, though. Got a hell of a set of lungs there, sweetness.”

“Are you complaining?” you ask with a smirk, trailing a hand down his stomach teasingly. Husk jerks under your touch as your fingers graze the soft fur above his cock, choking on a breathless laugh at the sudden stimulation. He catches hold of your wrist, bringing your hand safely back up and pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Never.”

“Good,” you grin, kissing him. Husk groans lightly into it, teasing your still-swollen bottom lip with the rough line of his tongue. “”Cause you’re gonna have to gag me if you want to shut me up.”

“Ooh, now there’s an idea,” Angel hums, slinging a long leg over the two of you. He tucks himself more comfortably into Husk’s side, squeezing your hand. “I got a couple o’ different—”

“Slow down, baby,” Husk croons, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. You begin dusting soft, calming kisses to the bartender’s throat just as Angel reaches up to scratch fingers through the fur behind his ear, and Husk groans happily, eyes closing. “Let us catch our breath first. Not all of us have got your refractory time.”

“Spoil sport,” Angel pouts playfully. “’s okay, kitty. You sleep; me and our girl here can brainstorm on all the fun things we can do when you wake up.”

Husk hums in tired amusement, and you shiver as he tucks his arm up over your waist, claws spreading possessively over your stomach. He buries his nose in your hair and sighs contentedly. “Should I be worried.”

“Oh, definitely,” you grin, and Angel winks at you. “I saw some things in that Lust Ring catalogue Angel brought I really want to try out.”

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part Three)

Ledger! Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of violence

Words: 4.1k

Chapter Summary: The third session with the Joker, and as you try and delve into the man he is, you can't help the connection you feel. Seems he might feel it too...

previous part: part 2 | next part: part 4

Notes: Hello everyone! Apologies for the wait, took a bit longer because of Halloween, was having too much fun to write. But here we are! This series is def picking up the pace now and soon we will dive into some real chaos lol. Please enjoy :) (I love inputting bits of Arkham dialogue in these because i can >:) )

_____________________________________________

On your way to work, it seems Gotham is in shambles. 

There seems to be some type of announcement going on, by someone from the GPD. You could care less, honestly, especially since you need to get to work before you’re late, but what piques your interest is the crowds of people. There is an obvious rift amongst them. Some of them hold signs displaying the infamous bat symbol, crying out in favor for Batman, it seems, some holding children at their hip who cry for the man they’ve lost. The other half push back against the pro-Batman crowd, yelling things like ‘murderer’ and ‘fraud’. The tension is so thick you can taste it. These people might tear each other apart.

Oh, if only Joker were here to see this. He’d never shut up.

A woman bumps into you, clutching a sign with that bat symbol painted on it, with words beneath it reading ‘come back’. You sneer, and she retreats back to her other Batman groupies. How could anyone get so worked up over a man in a mask? Take the mask off and we’re all messed up inside. Batman had worn the mask of a hero, parading around as Gotham’s salvation, and yet he killed people just like his enemies had. Like Joker had. Except Joker didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. 

Mr. Dale may be right about keeping all this from Joker, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He’s going to get out eventually and see all this mess. They can’t hide it from him forever. Even if he’s on house arrest for the rest of his damn life, he’s the Joker, and they won’t be able to stop him. They’re just scared. Scared that the Joker may have won. 

You walk through the city, broken into chaos, all the way to Arkham.

———————————————

This time when you enter Joker’s little conference room, he lacks his usual straitjacket, and you’re both surprised and relieved that your bosses actually listened to you. His asylum garb has been replaced with the usual Arkham patient outfit, an orange baggy shirt with matching orange pants. Immediately, as ashamed as you are, your eyes go to his arms, which are surprisingly lean and toned, probably from numerous fights. You trace his arms down to his hands, each of which have a separate handcuff linked to a man made circle jutting from the table. You look at every crinkle, every callus, every line. Human hands. Dangerous hands.

“Uh, doll, my eyes are up here, ya know.”

Shit. You look up into his eyes as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m… sorry, I was just-“ You try to search for an excuse, but it’s clear from the teasing look Joker gives you that he’s not looking for one. You flush. “I’m surprised they let you out of the jacket.” I’m surprised your hands are so normal. 

“Well, it certainly wasn’t from my good behavior,” he clucks, his tongue hitting the top of his mouth. “Did you ask them to get rid of it?”

You can’t tell if he’s angry or not. “I did.”

He breaks into his signature, manic grin. Not angry. Good. “I knew I liked you, doll.”

Joker doesn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate it’ but somehow, this is better. It’s probably as close as you’ll get to hearing those words from him and it ignites something in you. You feel proud of yourself. Proud that he’s proud of you. Before you can return his smile, you remember ‘hey, wait a fucking second, this is my patient The Joker we’re talking about here’. You settle for a small smile. Be professional. “Mr. J, I wanna start this session off by just saying I think we’re making some good progress-“

“Doctor y/n, you seem to have quite the fascination with my hands,” Joker interrupts, a giggle rising in his throat. 

Dammit. Were you looking at his hands again? You didn’t even fucking notice. You’re not trying to. You’re probably just a little shocked. Again, it’s like pulling back the curtain, getting a glimpse at the man behind the act. And there he sits, with such human looking hands. “Excuse me, I’m just…” You search for the words. “I’m not used to seeing you without being all wrapped in a jacket.”

“Well, ah, they’re just hands. Did ya think I’d have talons?”

“Maybe. Or maybe, like, robotic hands. Rocket launchers for hands. Something cooler.” Are you teasing him? Your patient? You might be teasing him, just a little.

At your teasing, his smile shifts sideways into a smirk, eyes thinning. “Cooler? What’s cool is, ah, what these hands have done. They’ve been the cause of the end of so many lives.” He tries to lace his hands together, but the handcuffs keep his arms too far apart, so his fingers touch only slightly. “Now, ah, where were we?”

You stumble to find the words. So much for professionalism. “R-right, sorry. I think we’re making real progress here. Yesterday was a good session, and I’m hoping today will follow suit.” You bring out your clipboard. Click your pen open. “Now, why don’t we pick up where we left off? We were analyzing your crimes-“

“Spectacles.”

“Whatever you wanna call em’. Now those are only one part of the man you call the Joker-“

“That is, ah, my name, doll face.”

You hold your hand up. “Let me finish. We haven’t talked about you. About this person you present as the Joker. And yes,” you say roughly, before he can cut you off again, “I know you say that you and this character you present are one in the same, but nobody is exactly the person they put out. I mean, you did say we all hide behind a facade. So, let’s talk about Joker, the one we see on TV getting the best of Batman.” You scribble a little picture of him, smiling wide and in his signature purple suit. Jutting your chin, you gestured for him to look at it. “This will be the outside Joker…” You do another little doodle, one of Joker without his makeup and in the Arkham garb. “And this will be the you in here.”

The Joker looks down at your drawings and bites the inside of his cheek. “Not much of a difference, doll face, except that I look even crappier in here.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you proud of the person that Gotham has come to know?”

“Define proud.”

“Do you feel a sense of satisfaction over the person you allow Gotham to see? This crazy clown figure?”

Joker tilts his head back, thinking, and you can’t help but stare intensely at his neck, tracing down his throat to his Adam’s apple, which moves as he swallows. Geez, what is up with you and the staring today? Luckily, he doesn’t think for long, tilting his head back down to look at you. “I’m just fine with whatever I showed to Gotham. And I don’t regret-tah one bit of it.” Looking all smug, he smirks. “I’m not proud of who I am, I relish it. Bask in it. The Clown Prince of Crime, they call me! Nothin’ better than that, doll. Means I’ve made a difference.”

“You’ve certainly made an impact, Mr. J. For better or for worse.”

“And whaddya get out of all that, doll? That I’m some kind of egotistical maniac?”

“Let me do the analyzing, please, Mr. J.”

He grunts. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile. “You say you’re proud, but clearly it’s not enough,” you tell him, scribbling notes underneath the doodle of him. “When you get out of here, you’d like to go back to all that, wouldn’t you? Go back to testing the B-Man?”

“Batsy and I just fit so well together, dolly. We’re meant to chase one another to the end of our days!”

If you can find him. “All the stuff you pulled then, did it really amount to anything if you want more?”

“Oh, doll, it’s not that I want more. I’m not just some kinda freak gettin’ a good fix when I cause havoc. My point just keeps needing to be made!” He winks at you. “Course, I know that if I get out of here I’ll have to behave.”

You seriously doubt Joker even knows the concept of behaving. “B-Man would just get you again, would he not?”

Joker cackles. He laughs at everything but you’re always confused when he laughs at something you don’t find remotely humorous. “That’s the fun part! He and I, we’re like a cat and mouse, like in those old cartoons. We’re just chasing each other in damn circles and, ah, the fun doesn’t-tah stop until one of us falls.” With a cruel smile, he flicks his fingers, as if toppling something over. “And I don’t intend to be the first to fall.”

“And after B-Man falls?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose. Doesn’t sound very fun. Why, you got a soft spot for the Bat?”

“For Batsy?” Technically, you’re not supposed to be very vocal in your own opinions, especially when they do nothing to help, but wouldn’t it be good for Joker to know you’re with him on some things? Not that Joker has too much disdain in Batman, he clearly loves to mess with him, but obviously the two are on very different sides. You want to show Joker you stand with him. “Absolutely not. The Bat hasn’t done anything to benefit me. If anything I feel more… useless. This man in a mask gets to go around fighting criminals and gets praised and here I am busting my butt everyday and what do I get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You clap a hand over your mouth. Way to go overboard. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

The Joker, of course, doesn’t care that you rambled on. He looks amused. No, not just amused, he looks pleased. His whole face contorts into an evil grin. “Well well well, doll face, nowwww we’re talking. Why didn’t you tell me you loathed the Batman so much?”

“Didn’t think it important.”

“Well, ah, I find it important. Looks like we wanna both go after the Batman, don’t we?”

“Go after him?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Obviously I’m not going to do that.”

He scooches forward. “But you’d like to. Come on, doll, given the chance, wouldn’t you wanna, ah, take the Bat down?”

For some reason, you actually think about it. If you really did have the chance, would you want to bring down the Bat? He was already down now, obviously, but if you had had the chance before then, would you have taken B-Man down? Before you can even dive into it, you snap yourself out of it. Why would you even care to do all that in the first place? Imagine you, beating up Batman? You’re not crazy. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Joker shrugs. “That isn’t a no.”

Things are going far from where you need them to be. “Let’s take this conversation back to you, Mr. J. How about we talk about the Joker in here? Nothing left for you to do except sit and think. You’re not out causing havoc, you’ve been stripped of your weapons and your makeup, what do you feel about yourself now?”

Already, you can tell the Joker isn’t too fond of the question. He squirms uncomfortably in his chair, muttering things under his breath that all sound nonsensical to you. For some reason, you kinda like it. It’s about time you get under his skin too.  “I feel like I wanna hurt someone,” he answers, clenching his fists. “I just wanna get out there and get back to everything.”

“Okay… see, you’re angry at being in here, and you don’t know how to handle your emotions so you’re resorting to violence.” As much as that’s probably true, you’re almost sure that if you were stuck in Arkham, you’d wanna hurt a few people too but that won’t help.

“Violence solves a lot more problems than ya think.”

“Not mental ones. I think I’m seeing what’s going on here, Mr. J.”

Joker taps on the table, a random pattern of noise. “And that is?”

You point with your pen between the two Joker sketches. “Both these people have unresolved problems, problems coped with by violence. Plenty of people do this, but they don’t go around trying to make their points to the whole damn city. These huge acts of violence are outcries and you don’t even realize it. You have no one to turn to to sort your feelings out with and this is what the outcome is.” You look back up at him, and it’s clear he’s confused. “I told you at our last session, you need company. Someone you can relate to, empathize with, talk through these feelings with.”

He frowns. “And what about you, huh? You’re, ah, just as alone as me, not a soul to talk to, and yet you’re not blowing up hospitals.”

Will he ever quit trying to analyze you? “I have other means of coping, Mr. J. Whatever happened to you… it made you hurt. And this hurt, it turned you away from people, even though we need companionship. We seek attention and validation and yet I fear you’re seeking it in all the wrong ways.”

“Who says we need companionship?”

“Human nature. Our hearts. Your mental state,” you say harshly.

His tongue pushes out his scar as he licks the inside of his cheek. “Feistyyy. I like it when you’re all, ah, riled up.”

Joker was really pushing your buttons now, and it was worse that no matter how upset you got at him, he’d find some kind of enjoyment in it. You really couldn’t win some of the battles he put you up against. Yet, the purr in his voice made your cheeks heat. You could never tell when to be angered or enamored. “I really do think that whatever happened in your childhood resulted in your detachment from emotion, and a distrust in people, and this mix of the two… well, it hasn’t been the best for you.”

“So, whaddya suggest? I go mingle with some of the other Arkham patients? Spend some quality time together finger painting and singing Christmas carols?” His laugh comes out as a sharp exhale. “I don’t think friendship is gonna fix me, doll.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest any of that,” you assert. “I just think that isolating ourselves from not just people but also feelings, now that doesn’t get us anywhere good.”

“Clearly,” he giggles, lifting up his cuffed wrists. “But I’ve been doing just fine, doll, aside from this little incident of being locked up in here.”

It was like the Joker just considered Arkham some bump in the road before he could continue his anarchy. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t have his heart set on going back to taking down Batman, no matter how good his reason. Especially considering, well, Batman was nowhere to be seen. Gosh, you wish you could just tell him. Maybe he wouldn’t see it as motivation, maybe it would shut down all his ideas. There was just far too much risk with everything. Say something, say nothing. The Joker was a lot of uncertainties. “But you shouldn’t have to be locked up in here. You don’t have to be if you just try and listen to me. I really want you to get better.”

“I don’t need to get better,” he growls. “The way other people feel, it’s just a soft spot for others to exploit. I’m already winning because nobody has anything on me. Chaos stirs something inside me, isn’t that enough?”

“No, Mr. J, you need more than that,” you plead. Why is he so stubborn? “Just a little company can do wonders. Just some faith in someone.”

“So they can do what? Push me down on my knees like some kind of sinner, making me beg for forgiveness? Making me change my ways? You really are crazy if you believe that.”

Joker is impossible, really. You don’t know how else to get your message across, how to make him listen. So instead, you think back on your deal, take a deep breath, and give him a story.

“When I was ten years old, the kids at school all decided they hated me so much that they all pretended I didn’t exist. I’d try and approach people and… and they never even acknowledged me. It followed me all throughout the rest of my school years.” You mess with your coat, fidgeting with the buttons, not quite able to meet Joker’s gaze. “I know how it feels when people hurt you.”

You wait, wondering if the Joker will give you a story back. You’re surprised when he opens his mouth to speak. “Once, ah, when I was just starting out, one of the criminals I hired managed to sneak up on me, knocked me to the floor real good. Kept babblin’ on about how I was a freak, how I’d never amount to anything, the heel of his boot digging into my back.” He stops, taking a deep breath, and you wonder for a moment if he’s going to stop all together but he continues. “Course, with all his ramblin’, he failed to notice me grabbing a blade. I stabbed him right in the foot, and oh boy, did he scream. I gave him the nastiest beating of his life, I’m sure. Blood all over the floor. And right before I was done, I made sure to give him and I matching smiles. Die with a smile, no?” Joker holds his chin up. “I don’t need people. People don’t care.”

It’s only a single story yet you realize the Joker has so much behind him. So many incidents that seemed to have fueled the thunderous rage beneath his skin. This man, finding humor in the wickedness of the world, wanting to show that everyone is essentially just as rotten as he, has been torn apart over and over again. Society had crushed the both of you yet here you sat, a doctor, and there he sat before you, a madman. In your anger towards the world, you had sought to try and help it, and in his anger, he wanted to burn it all down. You still had hope left in people, he had let that all die away.

He said people didn’t care, but you cared. This was more than just a way towards a paycheck, you really did want to help him. That’s what you’d always wanted for every Arkham patient. Yet the others did not quite distrust people as much as Joker did. Joker didn’t have anyone for him. How was it that Batman, a murderer playing superhero, still had half the city on his side and yet everyone just wanted Joker to rot away in here? You think about yourself, and how much better you would feel if you did have someone, if you had been given love and support along your miserable journey. If you could give Joker the support you’d always wanted, well, maybe that would change something in him.

“We’re both pretty messed up, huh?” you finally say, deciding not to comment on anything specifically about Joker’s anecdote. No need to keep talking about something so horrific. Joker didn’t need that. He needed comfort. 

Joker blows air from his nose, smiling softly. “We are, aren’t we? Just a buncha freaks.”

“Freaks still need to stick with other freaks.”

“And who have you got exactly, Miss l/n?”

You freeze. Nobody. Absolutely nobody. He knows it. Yet for a moment you feel… well, embarrassed. Your hand creeps to your warming face, your eyes feel suddenly watery. You don’t have your parents anymore. No old friends from school or college, not that there were many to begin with. No coworker friends, shitty bosses. All you have is yourself and you hate it. 

Joker seems to notice that his comment didn’t go down well, and he holds up his hands like he’s gesturing for you to stop, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Uh, doll, I didn’t mean to pry…”

“No, no, it’s fine…” You quickly wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Just wasn’t expecting the question, I guess.”

“Right,” he mumbles. “It wasn’t, uh, meant to be an insult.”

You let your eyes flutter close for a second and take a nice, long breath in. When your eyes open again, you straighten yourself out, contemplating your next words. “I know how it feels to be alone, Mr. J. More than anything.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, your fingers drifting towards his own, which are splayed out on the table. He sits up very still, unmoving save for a twitch in his jaw, as he watches you place your hand on top of his. You’re not sure what you’re doing, but you need your point made. “I… I know how much you think you don’t need people, but people offer support and guidance, and if I could have some of that right now, for fucks sake, I would.” You sigh. “I don’t have a lot of friends.”

Joker’s tongue slowly traces along his chapped lips. You wish you knew what he was thinking. You hated how well he read you and you could hardly get anything on him. Finally, he speaks. “Well, you got one now.”

The Joker, a friend. It sounds like the stupidest thing in the entire world. This was someone who had hurt and killed and destroyed. Someone who was close to no one, the people around him with one purpose: to serve him. He had said how loyalty didn’t come for free, that it needed to be bought. If something so simple as loyalty was seen as a transaction to him, did he even comprehend the concept of companionship? He must have, at some point, whoever the man before the Joker was. But the person you were dealing with was not that man, you were dealing with Joker. Joker did not seem a man who connected with anyone yet he tells you how alike the two of you are, and you can’t help but believe it. Alone in the world, the two of you. Maybe he can’t yet bring himself to make a real connection with anyone but, goddammit, you wanted him to try.

Why not be alone together?

It would all be in hopes of helping him, you told yourself. Whatever relationship the two of you were forming. If he could have someone to talk to, not just in a professional sense, but someone who would really be there for him, you think that would help a lot.

That’s all this is. This is to help him.

You squeeze his hand. “I like the sound of that, Mr. J.”

—————

It started off as a joke, really. 

Joker didn’t want to be analyzed. The first night he had been brought into Arkham, he had been poked and prodded, as doctors tried to decipher what kinda pills to stuff him full of. Joker had tried to fight them off, but they had injected him with something that made him sluggish. Just a few hours later was when they had sent in all the psychiatrists to try and fix him. Joker didn’t need to be fixed. He was an agent of chaos, a force to be reckoned with, something they just couldn’t comprehend. Then you’d come along, and you were so lonely, and Joker liked toying with things that were easy to break. Except you’re nothing like the others. There’s something about you, this way that you interact with him, the way you don’t see him as some freak. When you stare at him, you don’t look at him like he’s a monster. It’s strange.

Joker doesn’t do friends. The term itself means nothing to him. It’s a meaningless word. Most words are meaningless to him, empty sayings. Yet when you look at him with those eyes, like he’s your equal rather than beneath you, Joker does feel something. Some kind of connection. He’s never thought about killing you, which says something. It’s the only way he can describe this feeling towards you, something other than the pure disdain he usually feels towards others. There is something… warm about you. Joker didn’t like it. Yet he let it happen anyways.

Long after you’re gone, when he’s strapped onto the metal slab the Arkham guards call a bed, he thinks on some of your words. You thought a companion would help him. Someone he could rely on. Someone who would truly be loyal.

He smiles wickedly to himself. You might just be right.

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey

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[demontonic]

Hayden Christensen - The first time - 2

let’s pretend that i didnt already start writing this for a separate story before i decided to just add it in for a part 2 please and thank you! Here’s part 1 if you haven’t read it and my masterlist for more!

word count: 1998

You had landed a part in Star Wars after years of auditioning for any possible role. You had struck mainstream fame after a horror movie you did for Rob Zombie. They had introduced an interesting character, they wanted to give Darth Vader a devotee, of course after Padme he never loved again but they wanted to show how exactly he dealt with it immediately after her passing. The audition was a scene in which said devotee breaks after pining for his approval the entire series.

“I have given you everything I am, I betrayed everything I ever knew, and I have done everything you ever asked! Just once I want you to see me, all I do, all I am is for you… Anakin.” Your voice sounded empty, defeated, broken and angry. Unrequited love in the worst case scenario possible, falling in love with a widowed sith lord. The story outside all the theatrics however was quite the opposite.

“Chosen one, how’s your morning old man?” You taunted in a merry voice, the taller blond man just shook his head. A smirk resting on his lips as he scoffed at the weak attempt of a joke.

“You aren’t too far behind me lady,” he dropped his bag onto the blue mat next to yours. Soon Hayden towered over you awaiting the inevitable comeback, something you’d grown accustomed to during training.

“Twelve years is enough for me to give you shit big papi,” you shoved his torso once you felt your neck stiffening at the uncomfortable angle it required to look at him.

“Well I thought you two weren’t supposed to get along,” Dave Filoni, you swear you could spend hours thanking this man for his work in the Star Wars universe, afterall he did create your character.

“Dave!”

“Hayden!”

They briefly shook hands, clearly having a deep respect and adoration for each other as long time coworkers and friends. Behind Dave however was this redhead, she was older than you but still younger than Hayden. She was the trainer's assistant who very much liked to try and correct Hayden, despite him having more experience than most of us. It wouldn’t have struck a chord with you, it shouldn’t have, but when she placed her hands around his arms to adjust his ‘lightsaber’ it angered you deeply. Luckily for you she seemed to be in quite the chipper mood, “Fan- fucking -tastic,” you thought while watching her drool over him.

“-And then we’ll get started on your final battle, sound good?” Dave looked between you and Hayden, a nod coming from you both before he walked away; being replaced by the main trainer, Harry.

“Morning, Milord, lover girl, Jess.” His voice was relaxed as always, he was a gentle man despite the skills he had taught us. He could cheer you up and stop you from being discouraged one moment and then completely body slam you the next. You were forever grateful he was the trainer, because if it was that snotty bitch Jessica, you’d never catch a break. He liked to refer to us using names related to our characters to ��get us in the headspace’ you just thought it was cute.

“Morning puff, how was the commute this morning?” You teased since he always complained about traffic, but today he gave you a knowing look. Puff was the nickname you gave him, his hair was insanely fluffy and long it also was a very light blonde.

“Well I’ll have you know it was better today, I hope that’s how your choreography goes as well since we’re gonna start breaking down your final battle today.” He grabbed a pole before swiftly turning to us, a test he’d do every now and then to see if we could spring into action. Of course, being the teacher’s pet I’d met his ‘blade’ first.

“Ah my lover girl, always quick on her feet,” his praise made you smile while he stood down, returning to his previous spot.

“She still needs to keep her legs braced properly, her stance is weak,” Jessica spat while she walked over to Harry, twirling her pole in hand cockily. To be fair she’d won many matches against you, but as of recently you had the winning streak.

“Now Jess-”

“Wanna give it a go, see how weak my stance really is?” You proposed, walking out to the middle of the mat, leaving Hayden to stand lonesome in the corner. He loved your drive, your constant need to prove yourself against that wretched woman. Not many people fancied her, it wasn’t hard to understand why, Hayden was not one of those people.

“Any day, any time, you know I’m always ready,” she quickly met you in the middle, poised for action, awaiting your first strike.

“Are you?” You had been working on this rendition of Hayden’s move, it was your personal touch to the character. It was the famous ‘Obi-Ani’ however when the saber went behind your back the blade would be downturned. From there it would switch hands, strike once it was brought forth, then switched back to your right hand. That was exactly how you started, she hadn’t been able to combat it and in the fictional universe her hand would be severed. In the real world, you hit her wrist very hard, you hoped to see the bruise later on.

“Impressive! I didn’t know you had finally polished that move, I think it will do well in the choreo.” Harry quickly declared before getting in between you two. Hayden also approached you, his hand turned your shoulder to face him.

“What even was that?” He sounded impressed, almost childlike especially with the smile that accompanied the question.

“I took your move, and I made it my own master,” you said cockily with a shit eating smile. Harry’s praise made you smile, but Hayden’s interest made you jump for joy.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It had been a few hours now, you had gone through 4 out of 10 parts of the battle and you were starting to get frustrated. The lightsaber part had never been an issue, but the footwork on your part was intense. It had to be because by now Anakin was Darth Vader his mobility was nothing like the prequels. To keep Hayden stiff they had pads on his arms and knees to limit the movement. On top of that there was a lot of dialogue throughout the beginning, so you kept circling each other, anticipating each other's next moves.

“Again, let's slow it back dow-“

“No. Let’s do it again, I just need to keep doing this until I get it.” It wasn’t a backflip or some mind blowing parkour, however the transition from running, to sliding, up to your knees; and then trying not to fall back while Hayden pushed down on you with his saber wasn’t easy.

“Do you want me to ease up?” God sometimes you just wanted to hit him with the pole when he tried to water it down for you. He came from a good place but amidst your frustration, and Jessica’s relentless corrections you were losing control.

“No, just start again at 3”

“Okay, on your line”

And with a heavy sigh you repeated the last line of your spiel. “Just once I want you to see me, all I do, all I am is for you… Anakin.” Your voice was harsh, it was unmissable so as Hayden began his attack, you deflected with more force than normal. Your jaw was clenched and your fists tight. Your eyes were set on Hayden, it was like you were doing the scene for the actual take, hell it was like you were actually living this scenario.

“Anakin is no more, I killed hi-“

“Liar!”

You stepped forward going back into the confrontation, your sabers clashing louder than before. Grunts leaving your throat as you push your tired body to perfection, until you catch sight of Jessica. Her glare stuck on you as if you killed her favorite person, it just made you fume. The next part is when you cut off Vader’s left hand and while normally you let Hayden put his hand down, you hit the back of his hand. Finally it had clicked that you weren’t okay, something was bothering you and he had a pretty good idea why. However he remained silent and followed through with the scene.

“All this time, did you think I might fall in love with you? Your pride consumes you, padawan.”

“And your grief consumes you.” You said through clenched teeth, this was where you had to jump off a blue block they’d set up. As you jumped down, you rolled onto your knees before running at Hayden, and to avoid his saber you slid beneath it. Once you turned to face him, you hurriedly got onto one knee finally making it on time before your sabers clashed. He pushed down on you and you could feel your shoe slip against the slick fabric of the mats. You were fed up with this plastic always fucking this part up so you pushed back with all your upper body strength.

Not your best moment.

Hayden fell back as you stood up and this finally calmed you down from your mood. You breathed heavily while you walked over to help him back up, twirling your saber mindlessly. You looked down at the blonde, holding your hand out wordlessly in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I just-“

“Let’s take a break, and talk about this.” Hayden interjected before hurriedly ushering you to the parking lot. There was nothing to say, it was childish of you to act out, it was embarrassing, you couldn't begin to process the emotions pooling in your stomach. He unlocked his car and opened the door for you without hesitation, he was scarily calm as you got in the passenger seat. It didn’t take long for him to get into the driver’s seat, long strides equaled less steps. Once he was seated the silence continued for a moment, you wouldn’t dare meet his gaze.

“Jessica is a hard person to be around, I’m sure you’ve had a few instances like that in the workplace. Y/N you are giving her what she wants when you get angry, people like that thrive off your misery.” Hayden Christensen, he had to be God’s favorite, he was so nice and understanding. A gentle giant trying to reason with a short psycho, perfect.

“It disappoints you as much as it does me-“

“I’m not disappointed in you, if anything I’m proud… surprised even.”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, Harry assumed you would’ve chewed her head off by now. You saved me 20 bucks”

“So what I’m hearing is you think I could win in a fight.” The mood was lighter now, you both sported bright smiles while the banter continued.

“I wouldn’t have put money on you if I didn’t think you would,” he was being sincere and you knew by the way he spoke so effortlessly.

“Might not be for much longer, it’s like she gets worse everyday- that or my tolerance is getting shorter.” This time your tone sounded defeated, sure you’ve dealt with more stressful things in life, but it seemed as though you had no more patience left. Hayden quickly took note of this and used the leverage of you being a Star Wars nerd to cheer you up.

“Have faith love, everything will soon be set right… I’ve been told she’ll be transferred to a different project anyway. Someplace far far away from us,” His voice dwindled to a hushed volume, it was soothing.

“That would bring peace to the entire city.” He laughed at your brutal joke before changing the subject.

“So do you think we can go in there and try to play nice?” The question lingered for a moment before you reluctantly answered him.

“I don’t make promises.”

“But?”

“But… I will try.”

“Atta girl.”

@oogachakaooga

@lonelywitchv2

@papas-peepee

[itsnothingofinterest]

Man, this line from All Might's flashback really boosts my respect for him. But also makes me pity him just a bit. Respect because what he said was true; pity because after all he's worked for it still is.

"In this world, criminals get rewarded for their actions."

"And a victim's sorrow grows into a blind rage. It's a spiral of everlasting tragedies."

He saw all this junk back when he started and wanted to fix it. And you know, I genuinely think he did the best he possibly could have on his chosen path as the greatest hero & symbol of peace. But he was never able to actually change the status quo he couldn't take, just put a cover over it so people weren't afraid. And by the end he even became a part of it as it's defender. Heck, if he did end up filling in any cracks in the old pre-All Might society, he inadvertently replaced them with new ones made by encouraging everyone rely on & blindly trust heroes.

The general public was certainly happier and more at ease with him around as a symbol, beating down dangerous villains, but everything else he despised still happened right under his nose. And if I may be brutally honest, I think it was because just being a pro hero fighting villains was never going to be enough. Most of the tragedies we've seen in this series didn't originate from a villain after all. They originated with some abuse, prejudice, systemic corruption, or some type of issue or bad person the heroes don't touch. And maybe that's because the heroes are so good at preventing tragedies caused by villains, & good for them if so; I still think the next generation should get a better plan because it looks like things wound up right back where they started anyway.

Anyway; the League/PLF should take "I can't take it anymore. In this world, criminals get rewarded for their actions. And a victim's sorrow grows into a blind rage. It's a spiral of everlasting tragedies." to use as their slogan. I know it's a bit wordy but I think Tomura could make it work.

[pastel-charm-14]

how to romanticize your life - a series - post 2 - romanticizing school

soo many people see school as something to avoid, as a chore. but we as individuals have the power to change the way we view school. it's an opportunity for growth, discovery, and personal development. so without further ado: here are a couple tips to help you romanticize school!!

have a positive mindset. in order to study effectively, you need to put aside the negative connotations you have with school and studying and replace them with positive connotations. write out a cons list and then counteract each negative with a positive. for example: con - school is very time consuming | pro - it teaches you time management skills.

create a peaceful and cozy school morning routine. drink some water, watch something funny, use the bathroom, brush your teeth, do your makeup, listen to some nice music, pick out a cute outfit, do your hair, have some matcha.

i also like to say affirmations in the mornings like "i love school" or "i'm amazing at school" to help get me into that positive mindset i was talking about earlier.

make a to-do list. part of romanticizing is not stressing. if you prepare for your day in advance, you can worry less and enjoy more.

really explore your school campus. find all the little nooks and crannys, and don't miss out on anything your school has to offer. for example, i found a little covered picnic table over by the greenhouses at my school that i love to sit at. cute places to study and hang out make school so much more enjoyable.

appreciate being a student. there is so much community and everyone is working toward to common goal to really figure out who they want to be and what they're going to do. it sounds dramatic, but it's true. so i advise you to embrace student life. attend events, plays, games, join clubs, and study with your friends. so go to that football game, participate in spirit days, and enjoy being a student to its fullest potential!

materials are also a huge part of school. you don't have to spend big bucks, but these are some basic things that have helped me:

-cute planners/notebooks, sticky notes -> for goals/organization, writing down something quick, although take physical notes as well!

-books -> gives you something to do, i like romance and educational books

-ipad -> helps with notes/studying, customize it to make it cute, add widgets, and keep in mind that it's all about the vibes

dress to impress. wear cute outfits. treat school as a fashion show. i know dressing up and feeling confident has really enhanced my school experience. some of my favorite things to wear are preppy cardigans, nice jeans, skirts, high knee boots, long sleeve turtlenecks, and just tons of cute tops. layering is very important to me as well. you can also add jewelry to help elevate your style a lil bit.

have a space that you dedicate to only studying. i have a desk in my room that i use, and it has improved my study habits, my grades, and my discipline. it makes studying/schoolwork so much more enjoyable. it always good to keep in mind that your environment impacts tons of other aspects of your life too. make your space your own and personalize it. some potential spots could also be coffee shops or the library, whatever works for you.

make a pinterest board to motivate yourself. this could include study-with-me's, study tips, just general inspiration, or things to do with your main area of study or your major if you're a uni student. this helps you think about "huh, that could be me".

bonus tips:

absorb study content/vlogs

have a good-vibes playlist

in case ya missed the intro post:

stay tuned…

[candywife333]

One of the guys

pairing: OT7? alphas X chubby wingwoman HYBE employee Y/N (omega in hiding)

NEW MINISERIES (almost resembles a series of just dribbles)

Summary: She's the man. No literally. She totally is. At least in the perception of everyone at HYBE. She hangs out with the guys like a pro , strategizes with them to get them any girl of their choice, gets rid of their one night stands with ease, convinces their FWBs to leave them alone, provides constructive criticism about their sexual techniques, and even counsels them when they are having mental breakdowns. In essence, she makes MEN out of boys. Is that her job description? Not exactly. But she does it anyway. Because Y/N just happens to be one of the guys.

Warning: cursing, crude language, eventual smut

PART 1

"Y/N, does this outfit look good for the date tonight?!!!", Taehyung paced around in a panicked fashion, worried about being late for his date.

Y/N turned around slowly in her revolving chair nursing a freshly baked croissant in her hand, quizzical expression on her face, right eyebrow propped up in a strong arch. She calmly advised, "Lose the ugly plaid shirt and replace it with a plain black turtle neck. Get rid of that thirsty look on your face and wipe the sweat on the nape of your neck. You don't want to look like you just ran a marathon. As much as old spice commercials try to convince guys that women like sweaty men, we don't like guys looking like drowning rats on first dates".

Taehyung opened his mouth open in shock and disbelief at her cutting words. Y/N questioned nonchalantly as she propped her sweat pant clad right leg on the coffee table, munching on her crispy treat, " Have I ever mislead you boi? Till now, have you not bagged a chick under my guidance"? Taehyung winced, because he very well knew that not only him, but all the other members never lost when Y/N advised them with regards to the workings of women. Especially in regards to the mindset of omegas.

They were all alphas and any girl, or omega for that matter that they chose to pursue, they got. Mainly because of Y/N. You could call her a lifestyle manager or a counselor. The words were not apt enough to describe her position completely. She was all encompassing in her role. Nobody would be able to replace her.

Y/N was originally one of their junior managers, till they slowly realized that she was worth more than just that job role. Taehyung remembered the day they had met her. When Jungkook had been bemoaning his lack of p***y at the time, Y/n had remained in her usual uniform of black sweatpants and baggy black shirt with a smirking expression on her quiet face. Side note: None of them knew how y/N even looked like under those baggy clothes, she never changed her clothes, ever. Under any circumstances.

She had taken one look at Jungkook's pitiful, pathetic little face propped up like Orphan Annie on a blue loveseat, and remarked in her usual quietly cutting manner, "You need to wash that BO off your armpits boy. Brush your teeth. Use some salicylic acid on that face. And learn what weights are. Girls don't like oily spaghetti. We like it in our mouth when we eat it, but we don't like f**king it". They had all been startled at the time.

But she had resolutely continued her tirade, "You can take the advice or leave it. But I guarantee that if you fix what I said, you will have girls falling all over themselves for you, like flies over lasagna". After her curt statement, she walked away, a baggy legend , without even a glance backwards.

Over the years, since their debut, she remained in the background, mostly staying in HYBE's main building, acting as a mix between manager, mental health counselor, life coach and sex therapist. If anyone had questions that they couldn't get figured out anywhere else, they came to Y/N. Cause she was just that good. New idols swore by her, even giving up time off some times, just to have appointments with her biweekly.

She was too good, to the point that even the jade rock statue that was Yoongi, would consult her when he was struggling. And he never even consulted his parents, so that was saying a lot. It was even more hilarious that their head of PR and sometimes even Bang PD were found creeping into her office. She was a magician and a queen and she knew it.

Taehyung nodded at her suggestions, not questioning her and got ready to head out the door as Y/N made her way out of his dressing room. She rarely did much strenuous activity, so she had this habit where she calculated her steps daily and would be found randomly pacing around the HYBE building with her tablet in hand.

As Y/N left his room, Jungkook walked in, smiling at y/n in glee, making grabby hands to try to hug her. She swatted him away with a smirk and walked away as he entered the room. He grunted, " Looking good Tae. Off to bag Ashley I see. You are pulling all the stops for this one". Taehyung shrugged , "No choice dude. She is super selective about who she dates. Which is why Y/N told me to go for a basic but chic look. And she told me to keep some gum on me, in case my breath stank. Because apparently classy girls hate garlic".

Jungkook nodded absently, clearly not interested in girls like Ashley, the daughter of a makeup corporation's CEO. He motioned for Taehyung to come closer, as if what he were about to say were a top secret, "Do you ever wonder what Y/n ACTUALLY looks like"? Taehyung, bopped him on his coconut head with his right hand. "The hell do you mean, what she actually looks like. Not like she is lying to us. The girl doesn't even wear makeup". Jungkook shook his head frantically, "That isn't what I mean. I mean, we don't even know her shape, she dresses so baggy she looks like a blob. And her face is obscured by her thick black specs that honestly look more like sunglasses because of the tinting. And her hair is always pulled up into a bun, so we don't even know the texture of her hair".

Taehyung pondered these sentiments. For sure, Y/N was very bland when it came to appearance. The only distinctive thing about her was her ocean breeze fragrance. Otherwise she blended into the background. "Why are you suddenly so curious Jungkook? She's worked for so long at HYBE. Why does it matter"? Jungkook looked uneasy as he proclaimed after a pregnant pause and gathered Taehyung even closer as if to divulge some national security threat, "I have a suspicion that she has a........please don't tell anyone my conjectures........big ........ASS".

Dumbfounded at his outlandish statement, Taehyung exclaimed in disbelief, "You mean a BADUNKADUNK, A G WAGON, A DUMP TRUCK? OUR Y/N"?!! He nervously tittered, "no way man, no way". Jungkook winced as he continued, "Well I am sort of curious, because you see...", he twiddled his thumbs with trepidation, "I sort of was looking when she bent over to pick up a pen...and her shirt sort of slid up and I saw something that looked massive. You know, of global proportions". He paused as if in deep concentration, finger on his head, "Worldwide, if I had to put it in the simplest terms. And the stranger thing, is that her scent smelled like strawberry cheesecake for all of 2 seconds till it switched back to her usual fragrance".

Both of them stood there, puzzled in a quandary. This may not seem like a big deal. But it definitely was. Because if Y/N was pretending to be someone else entirely, their world view and perception of life, may have just shifted drastically.

[dyns33]

Only Wastelands part 5

So here last part of my first Cooper Howard series ! I hope you guys liked it.

Tag : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25 @darkangel4121 @avidreadee123 @kaitttttttt @nullx1ety @foggyturtleknightangel (theyre you gooo)

If they had learned one thing about each other during their time together, it was that Cooper and Y/N were both stubborn fuckers.

As he held her tightly with his rope, chewing the inside of his mouth as he waited for her to speak, she stared at him with a hateful look, refusing to open the ball.

Of course, her first reaction had been to try to flee. An instinctive survival reaction, as stupid as it was useless, because he was a pro with his lasso. Y/N had no chance of escaping, especially since he could easily knock her down or shoot her before she could free herself.

So there they were, staring at each other in silence, with a tension that could cut with a knife.

It may have been because they were at risk of being interrupted by raiders, radroaches, or Lucy who might wonder where they were, but the Ghoul ended up sighing and grimacing.

"What do you want then ?"

"… What do you mean ?"

"You must want something, to show up after three fucking years with my daughter, sweetheart. You probably knew that I would shoot between your two pretty eyes the moment I would see you in thanks for leaving me behind, so you needed a little sugar in your bitter request. Spit it out."

It was Y/N's turn to grimace, not understanding the situation.

Cooper Howard was angry. Cooper Howard claimed that she wanted something, and that she was the one who had left him three years ago, giving him the right him to be furious with her.

It made no sense.

"Don't kid me !" she exclaimed, making him jump slightly. "You're the one who left me !"

"Sorry, sweetie, but I was there, I know…"

"Oh, no, no good excuses. I heard you very well with your new friends at the bar ! I'm not totally stupid even if I come out of a vault, I know when I'm not wanted anymore, you were very clear ! So the little doggie left you alone ! I never wanted to see you again, but I met my replacement, then I found Janey, and I couldn't leave her, so… Let me go now ! I don't want anything, let me go !"

Y/N started to move again to try to remove the lasso, and this time Cooper didn't move to stop her. This made her react, and instead of finishing freeing herself to run as far as possible, she turned her attention back to him.

The hatred seemed to have disappeared. He was looking at her now with something akin to pain.

"… You heard that ?" he whispered.

"Yeah ! So stop whining, cowboy, you're not the victim !"

"… Looks like we're both victims of my talent."

"… What ?"

As much as he hated being reminded of it, Cooper Howard had been an actor. A damn good one, no matter what the critics might have said.

He hadn't lied to Don Pedro's men when they started threatening him, willing to torture him for days just for the fun of it. Coop didn't care at all. To him, he was long dead, it made no difference.

Then they talked about doing the same to Y/N. The little vaultie who had been hanging out with him for a while. They had seen them together, the Ghoul seemed to care about her, it would be fun to tie her to a chair so he could watch them do whatever they wanted to her.

So Cooper had put on his best actor's mask, saying that they were wrong. Y/N was nothing to him. They could waste their time looking for her if they wanted, or they could do like him and enjoy a good drink.

It was proof that she was worthless, right ? That the Ghoul was at the bar sipping a whiskey instead of looking for her, while she was at risk of getting killed in the wasteland.

The truth was that Cooper had taken a bad bullet in the leg and despite his efforts, he had been unable to lose Don Pedro's men. It was too risky to look for Y/N in these conditions.

So he had tried to buy time, for her as well as for him, even if he didn't know if they would make it.

"In the end, they put me in a coffin and buried me alive."

"Coop…"

"The first few months, I waited. I told myself that you were waiting for the right moment to come and help me, hidden somewhere. They would end up guarding my hole with less seriousness. Then I thought that you had had a problem. I didn't like thinking about that, sugar. I didn't like what it could mean. And then, there was the third option, presented by Don Pedro the last time he took me out to play. He said that you had been seen nearby. And I said to myself, he's kidding, because if my Y/N was alive, she would have come. Right ? She would have come, she would have tried to free me. So I didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe him."

Keeping this certainty, the Ghoul had taken the road to find the witch Moldaver without trying to find information on Y/N. Either she was dead, and the last bit of his humanity would have died with her after he lost Janey, or she had abandoned him, and the result would be the same, if not worse.

"But actually… You didn't know, sweetie. You didn't know about the coffin, and you thought I was a heartless asshole who had made fun of you. I'm still a little disappointed, you could have understood that I wasn't serious."

Three years. They had wasted three years, him in a hole, and her wandering the wastelands, hating each other, as much as they missed each other, because Cooper was a good liar who didn't talk enough, and Y/N was a nervous vaultie who needed to be talked to.

"… Shit. Cooper, shit, I'm sorry."

"Nah, sweetheart. You would have come if you had known, even after hearing me. Just to kick my ass, I guess. And you brought me back my little cowpoke, when you didn't want to see me anymore."

"I would never have left her. I wouldn't have left you…"

"I know." he sighed, lowering his head. "The Mohave sun must have burned a few of our neurons, huh ?"

Y/N imitated him, ashamed. If she had arrived earlier, maybe Cooper would have seen her, he would have made a sign to let her know he was going to try something, and they would have found each other.

And if she had stayed despite the pain, she would have seen him being tortured and put in the ground, and she could have done something.

But the "what ifs" were easy. It was too late now, she hadn't trusted him despite everything he had done for her.

Still tied up, she was able to pull the picture out of her bag, biting her lip to keep from sobbing like a child.

"… You want me to give this back ?"

"… You kept it? All this time ?"

"Sure. It's stupid, I was hoping you'd come back for it eventually, like you said you would. Then I could have kicked your ass. And… It reminded me of the good times."

"Hmm. I'll take it back, yeah. You won't need it anymore."

She was about to throw it at him, or set it on the ground so he could take it later, but with a quick movement, Cooper pulled the lasso, quickly pulling her towards him.

With intense eyes, he took the picture from her hands, stared at it for a moment, before putting it in her pocket.

"Here. Where it belongs."

"The sun really fried your brain then."

"Nah, sweetie, I feel perfectly fine."

"You just said I wouldn't need it anymore."

"I don't plan on losing you again, so you don't need it anymore, no."

Stubborn, but mostly stupid, they started looking at each other in silence again, but the tension was different this time. Y/N could feel her heart beating in her chest, and judging by the Ghoul's breathing, Cooper's couldn't be any better.

However, when she took the risk of approaching her mouth, he recoiled.

"… Radiation, sugar."

"I have radaway."

"Vicious." he purred with a smirk.

"Idiot. And I thought you were the romantic type, you have to ruin this moment that I…"

The last time Y/N had kissed someone, she was still in school. The bombs hadn't exploded, there were birds in the sky, and she was far too young to know if it really mattered.

She clung to Cooper like her life depended on it, like each kiss was a breath of fresh air that she had been missing for over three years. His hat fell off, but he didn't seem to mind, too busy devouring her mouth.

"Daddy's in love ! Daddy and Y/N are in love !"

The little voice surprised Y/N, while the Ghoul placed one last kiss on her cheek before sighing, keeping her in his arms as he turned to Janey, beaming with a smile, who was jumping up and down as she watched them.

A bit further away, they could see Lucy circling the building, probably looking for the little girl she had lost. One would have thought that she was not a good babysitter, but in fact it was the kid who was good at escaping the vigilance of adults.

A good thing for Lucy, otherwise her father could have killed her for that, making her regret having entrusted her while he caught up with Y/N.

Still with one arm on her waist, Cooper indicated for Janey to come towards them, lifting her with the other.

"It's late, my sweet Cowgirl, time for you to sleep so you have enough energy to wear out young MacLean tomorrow."

"Yeah !"

They could have said goodbye to Lucy the next day. After all, Cooper's priorities were Janey and Y/N now. Revenge was still tempting, finding Barbara, making VaultTech pay for their crimes, but it didn't matter as much anymore.

However, he had promised the vaultie that they would find her father, and if possible her boyfriend Maximus.

And as his daughter and Y/N reminded him with a mischievous smile, cowboys always kept their word. The Ghoul rolled his eyes and growled, but since he couldn't really say no to them, or only by shouting 'no' while knowing that they would follow them anyway, the team set off again towards the main bucker.

Then when it was all over, they would find a quiet little spot, in the middle of the wasteland, far from all this bullshit, taking things as they came.

[meret118]

The far-right think tank behind the controversial pro-Trump Project 2025 plan is filing a series of Freedom of Information Act requests to find out what employees at NASA said privately about former President Donald Trump and tech billionaire Elon Musk, Reuters reported on Friday.

. . .

This plan, spearheaded by the Heritage Foundation, "is part of that organization's ongoing push to help Trump weed out uncooperative civil servants if he is reelected to the White House in November," an executives told Reuters.

The Heritage Foundation's Project 2025, which has become a key focal point in the election, advocates for Trump to replace the civil service with GOP loyalists, seize direct control of independent agencies like the Federal Communications Commission, enshrine Christian nationalism in law, and terminate or defund a broad range of federal programs.

-----

Online voting registration ends in days in some states!

I'm so fucking terrified, y'all.

[byeuijoo]

fake a kiss and heal a heart 𐀔 han dongmin

⠀⠀⠀chapter two. : false emergency & another drink.

warnings : alcohol consumption, low self-esteem, crying, like one swear word, mention of throwing-up ⋆ word count : 4,776

serie masterlist ✩ boynextdoor masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ୨ ✩ ୧

A WEEK HAD PASSED SINCE YOU LAST SAW HAN DONGMIN, and since that unforgettable chaotic party, you had received no news from him. at the same time, after escaping the house like thieves, you parted ways to continue your respective homeward journeys, letting brief goodbyes fly in the wind from your fingertips. despite dongmin's insistence on walking you home that night, you assured him that everything would be fine and he absolutely had to go home and take care of himself — you still remember his cheeks and eyes red from the torrents of tears he shed. and afterwards, you waited a long time for any message from him, just to know he was feeling better. but nothing. no message, no call, nothing at all. so you tried to think of something else, to go on with your life as it was before you met him, go to school, see your friends.. but your subconscious kept bringing your thoughts back to his pretty black cat eyes. had he been crying again? was he, at least, going to class? was he eating properly? a whole host of unanswered questions stayed in your head, because after all, you'd just played a part during one night.

so today, like every other day, you were off to class, spending the day with your closest friends, laughing and chatting, making fun of your science teacher's disastrous new haircut, before you rush off to your part-time job at the little grocery store down your apartment, serving the same customers at the same time again and again. and again. at least, dongmin was part of what finally changed your daily routine — even if in reality, you had nothing to complain about.

greeting your replacement colleague as you pushe open the door to the deserted street, you suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. thinking it was your mother calling again to see if you were eating properly, you let out a long sigh leave your lips, before discovering the contact name displayed on your screen. han dongmin. han dongmin. you repeated in your head, frowning, before finally picking up the phone. « hello? » you say softly, squinting as you hear all the noise that seems to be coming from the other side of the cellar. « y/n? it's han dongmin. » — his voice sounded fluid, if slightly shaky. was he drinking? starting to walk down the street, you spoke again after a few seconds, « i know. i know it's you. is everything okay? »

« are you free? like right now? » he asked, a little too brusquely, « there's a party planned and i've only just decided to go, will you come with me? »

it was a bit hasty — you hadn't even gone home yet, and you already had to go and meet him. you hesitated for long seconds, leaving him unanswered on the other end of the line, biting your lower lips out of habits, weighing the pros and cons. after all, if you think about it, you've got absolutely nothing else to do : your homework was already done, your apartment was tidy.. but you still had to go home and feed your cat. « well.. okay, of course, i can come. but please, give me 20 minutes to go home to feed my cat, okay? » you replied, quickening your pace to reach your apartment, which was not far from your working place. you heard him mumble something, and the noise was momentarily muffled, before his voice became clear again, « okay. thank you, i'll send you the address by message. »

after saying goodbyes and see you laters, you finally reached your apartment building, casually typing in your code before taking the elevator to your floor. when you opened the door to your home, you were instantly greeted by a little black cat who seemed to have missed you very much, the latter rubbing your leg in an affectionate gesture. « hey buddy, » you say in a voice that's far too high-pitched, lowering yourself to his level to caress his back, « are you hungry? mommy's home to feed you. »

after getting rid of your shoes for a moment, you rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out a bag of cat meat, preparing the bowl. while he quietly savored his meal, you stroked the top of his head, wondering why dongmin's voice sounded so strange on the phone. « was he already at the party..? » you asked yourself, your attention drifting to your phone, which showed you a new notification. the young boy had just sent you the address of his current location. while ensuring that your pet finishes its meal, you put on a slightly warmer jacket to face the night's cold wind, slipping on your shoes again before stepping outside. entering the address into your phone's gps, you hurriedly followed the indicated path, not wanting to keep him waiting too long.

but to your astonishment, when you arrived at the building associated with this address, you were faced with a bar, where a few groups of friends and a few drunks seemed to be enjoying the loud music and free-flowing alcohol. that was the party? sighing as you put your phone away in your jacket pocket, you entered the building, looking all around you for any trace of dongmin in the crowd. and after a few seconds of searching, you saw him leaning against a table, no doubt refilling yet another glass of soju. approaching his table, you finally stop beside him, pushing an almost accusatory index finger against his shoulder, « so.. this is your so-called last-minute party? »

the boy raised his face to yours, his expression changing at the sight of you. his eyes were slightly red, in contrast to his cheekbones, which betrayed his level of alcohol consumption, his hair was slightly a mess and the stupid smile on his lips showed perfectly that his thoughts weren't the clearest in the world. « oh y/n, you're here ! » he says cheerfully, raising his glass to you before finishing it in one gulp, right in front of your astonished eyes, « i was waiting for you. » he added, moving aside slightly to make room for you to sit next to him. throwing off your jacket, you settled on the bench next to him as he motioned to the waiter to bring him more bottles, before meeting your stern gaze. « what? » he asked, in a slightly mocking tone, « the party's just a small group. you, me and soju. »

rolling your eyes at his answer, you rested your back against the back of the seat, crossing your arms against your chest, while he busied himself pouring you both a drink. when he had finished, he handed you the little glass tumbler, tilting his head slightly to one side, giving him a very cute look, « drink with me? » — hesitating for a few seconds, you finally gave in to temptation, grabbing the glass before tapping it gently against his, finally letting the alcoholic liquid run down your throat. in the end, there was nothing wrong with spending an evening in his company, even if alcohol clearly controlled his actions.

you watched him for long minutes as he talked to you about everything and anything, spouting off sometimes incomprehensible words at record speed. he, who seemed so shy and reserved in the short time you'd seen him last, seemed to have shattered the glass shell that had previously surrounded him. it was another side of him that seemed to appeal to you, it was different and interesting, even if it was thanks to all the alcohol he'd ingested, a cheerful dongmin who put aside his sadness was suddenly a little more attractive. so you let him do whatever he wanted, watching him swallow glass after glass of soju as if it were lemonade, and the redness spread to the top of his cheeks, before invading his nose. resting your cheek against the palm of your hand, the latter holding it in place, you sometimes slipped a few chips into his mouth to put something other than alcohol in his stomach — you still had to prevent him from getting sick the next day, even if you could bet the headache would last all day.

as time passed, the night grew darker and darker and the bar's population became less frequent, leaving only a few people busy happily consuming around you, with a background of music that is more than pleasant. a gentle smile tugged at your lips as you mumbled the lyrics to the song that was playing, watching your friend play mechanically with the cork of one of the many empty bottles on the table. even though sleep crackled lightly in your eyes, you weren't about to leave him alone : at the very least, your mission was to make sure he got home in one piece at the end of the evening. « y/n.. » he said suddenly, an octave below his previous tone, drawing your attention and making you frown, « why did she give up on me? »

your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him, unsure of what to say. his trembling voice seemed to be filled with bitterness and bad feelings — his cheerful alcohol was suddenly leaning towards a sad one. knowing that you couldn't find the words to comfort dongmin, you simply continued to watch him with compassionate, desolate eyes. a sigh left his lips as he placed his hands against his eyes, a sniffle denouncing a sob coming up, prompting you to place your hand against his shoulder. « you know.. » he started, even if his voice was camouflaged by his hands, you could clearly understand his words, « no matter how hard i try, i can't figure out what i did wrong to make her go away. »

it was strange to be able to feel someone's pain and sadness just by the way they spoke, by the tone used, by the crack of the voice, and the sob stifled in the back of the throat. even though dongmin tried to hold back the tears at the barrier of his eyes as much as possible, some of them managed to escape and slide down his cheeks to stain the blue of his t-shirt. you could hear him sniffling, trying to find the right words to express what he was feeling deep down, to be able to cry out his pain to the world and evacuate the remorse that crackled in his heart. breaking up with someone is never easy when you've sincerely loved them — you feel that all the feelings you have confided to this person, were in vain. dongmin pursed his lips for a few seconds, preventing them from trembling as he seemed to rub his eyes so hard it burned, but the touch of your warm fingers on his neck encouraged him to continue confiding in you.

he was terribly angry at himself for lying to you about a supposedly non-existent party, when the truth was that he simply didn't want to be alone tonight. he could very well have asked jaehyun or woonhak to stay with him, but the comfort they brought him was not the same as yours. in his head, the images of the other party played over and over again like an old broken record, the sight and sound of jieum introducing her new boyfriend echoed in every corner of his head like an evil curse. and ever since, he's been comparing what she had before with what she has now : he was no match for sungho. at first glance and from what he had learned since, sungho was tall, super handsome, broad-shouldered and sporty, very intelligent, mature and interested in many things. he was top of his class, helpful, cute.. in another terms, he was perfect. it was much more than dongmin had to offer. he can't help but think that way — but the sensation of your mouth against his was still perched on his lips, like a soft, sweet, comforting veil. that's what led him to believe that the comfort you brought him was different from that of his friends, something about you made his heart bleed less. it was inexplicable. he remembers the glimmer of hope that crackled in his fingertips when his gaze met yours after the fiasco of this party, which is probably also why he felt he could confide even the saddest details of his life.

« dongmin, you don't have to- » you began to say, speaking again after a long silence in which just the music and laughter of other dudes, far too loud, disturbed your peace and quiet, but dongmin spoke again, removing his hands from his face to pull on his sleeves like a child, « you know she told me she never really loved me? »

and at that precise moment, your heart clenched in your chest. you couldn't imagine the pain he must have felt at her words — especially when it was clear that, he, was really, really in love with her. a tear rolled down his cheek, and you hurried to wipe it away, using your sleeve to touch his skin and rid it of that drop of salty water. « i think i gave my all in that relationship, she really seemed to love me, i swear, » he continued, sniffling as he played mechanically with the edge of his sweatshirt, « but i guess i was just a pawn in her life. a distraction before she finds something better elsewhere. » a wobbly, almost mocking laugh escaped his lips before he raised his glass to his lips, finishing it in one gulp. your index finger glided along the back of dongmin's neck, tapping against his skin, simply to remind him that you were there, listening to him. « what a fucking idiot. i was so naive.. » a sigh left his lips before he stared at the ground, closing his eyes to contain more tears.

« don't be so hard on yourself, » you whispered, your fingers brushing the edge of his jaw, « you're the one who suffers most in this story. » — seeing that he didn't react to your words, you decided to simply admired him silently, your eyes tracing the curves of his face with a simple glance. how could a boy be so pretty when he was crying? you thought, looking at his cheekbones and especially the tip of his nose reddened by the tears that constantly threatened to roll down his cheeks. dongmin was already a member of the category of pretty boys you had met or seen in your life, but seeing how cute he was, even with such sadness in his eyes, made your little heart go crazy. you probably shouldn't say things like that, especially since he was so devastated and was confiding in you about his unhappiness, but you couldn't help yourself. the boy hadn't stopped occupying your thoughts for a few days, so to be able to see him again now made you a little happy — putting aside the reasons for his call.

« i really thought i could be loved, you know, just for who i am, » his voice was even more broken now, and even though you wanted to stop him from saying that kind of thing, you decided to remain silent, « but i guess i'm not good enough for that. »

but those were the most unjustified words you've ever heard : you may not have known him very well, as your meeting was quite recent, but for the little you did know, dongmin was anything but unloveable. so you couldn't let him say those things about himself, you had to change his mind, and you swore you'd succeed in changing his negative thoughts. no matter how long it takes. « yah, han dongmin, » you say suddenly, drawing his attention, his teary eyes settling on your face, « get these stupid ideas out of your head. »

your hands settled on his cheeks, the feel of your cold fingers against his skin making his heart race. using your thumbs, you grazed his cheekbones to chase away the almost dry tears that had managed to escape his pretty hazelnut eyes. your pupils juggled from one eye to the other, letting a small, sincere smile cling to your mouth. « if she's not capable of loving you, you'll find someone else who will, okay? » you almost whispered, but loud enough for him to hear your words despite the loud music and bursts of laughter. dongmin couldn't control the tears that mingled with your fingers on his cheeks, trying not to burst into tears at the mere thought that jieum really didn't have a single sincere feeling towards him. « you're not a lost cause, and you're worth loving, » you added, caressing his skin tenderly, and only god knows how grateful he was to the alcohol for turning his face red, so you wouldn't notice the shyness crackling on his cheeks, « believe me, your heart will eventually erase jieum to accept someone else's love. »

see. this is the kind of comfort dongmin was thinking of : the kind that warms your heart until it burns, the kind that creates whirlwinds in your stomach, the kind that blurs your thoughts. that's the kind of comfort you were able to give him, far more effective than that of even his closest friends. the boy in front of you nibbled lightly on his lower lip, while you busied yourself chasing away the tears escaping from his eyes — and the urge to place a kiss on the tip of his reddened nose was growing stronger and stronger. but he decided to act before you did, letting his body fall heavily against yours, camouflaging himself in your arms like a child eager for warmth. you could feel his whole body trembling as your fingers came to wrap around his waist, holding him against you, as his forehead rested against the warmth of your neck. he didn't say a word, and you didn't dare make a sound, preferring simply to hold him against your heart until he feels better and this bubble of sadness finally deigns to leave him in peace.

so you laid your cheek against the top of his head, your fingers dancing mechanically along his spine, music lulling your alcohol-fogged thoughts. well.. especially him. you didn't dare imagine how much this soju consumption would cost him, observing the number of dead bottles on the edge of the table. you just sincerely hoped that drinking wouldn't become a habit — you were going to keep an eye on him for the next few weeks to make sure about it. moving your fingers up to the nape of his neck, you felt his body get heavier, and slower breathing.. did he fell asleep? tilting your head slightly, you finally caught sight of his closed eyes and slightly open mouth, alcohol having taken its toll on his fatigue levels.

« eh, han dongmin.. » you said, gently shaking his arm so as not to rouse him, but even after several attempts, the poor exhausted boy remained completely asleep. a long annoyed sigh left your lips — you certainly didn't need to deal with a drunken young adult at the end of the evening. but you definitely couldn't leave him there. first of all, it wasn't your style, and on top of that, you didn't want anything bad to happen to him. he'd already had a bad enough night to have to deal with waking up in a bar the next day. looking around, you wondered how you were going to get him home. you didn't know his address, you didn't have a car, and you definitely couldn't carry him through all the streets of seoul. maybe you could contact one of his friends to come and pick him up? it seemed to be the best solution. but in order to do that, you needed to find his phone first, so you could find that someone's number. diverting your gaze to your table, you found dongmin's phone resting on a paper napkin, and as you moved, trying as best you could not to wake him, you caught his cell phone between your fingers, before putting a victorious smile on your face, « got it..! »

pressing the button to unlock it, you inevitably came face to face with the face id — of course, he had to protect his phone's data like everyone else. biting your lip and pretending to think, a brilliant idea occurred to you. turning the screen on again, you placed it in front of dongmin's face, hoping very, very hard that it would unlock despite his closed eyes and lack of vitality. « please.. » you whispered, squinting your eyes until a victorious little scream escaped your mouth at the sight of his home screen. it was a little worrying that it was so easy, but it did work. good for you. opening the message application, you glanced over the conversations to find one of the people he talked to the most, and just as you were about to press a certain jaehyun, your eyes fell on a more than interesting name.

“ girlfriend ”

titling your head slightly to the side, you mentally kicked yourself for wanting so badly to find out who was behind the name. was it jieum? was it someone else? but if he already had a girlfriend, why did he hire you as one last time? pursing your lips in hesitation, you finally clicked into the conversation, and what you discovered caused your heart to miss a beat.

the sight of your recently exchanged messages flashed before your eyes. so it was you? but, why did he name you like that? you didn't understand why he simply didn't write your name, as you did. maybe it was just so no one would suspect a certain fake relationship. or maybe he did it before he knew your name. which seemed unlikely, in reality. the phone finally locked in your fingers, under your question-filled eyes, and even though you seemed genuinely shaken by this discovery, you still had to find a way to get dongmin out of that bar.

as you seemed deep lost in thought, the boy in your arms moved slightly, his arms clinging to you like a baby koala to its mother. his face camouflaging itself a little more in your neck, his breathing now tickling your sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your spine and drawing your attention. your pupils settled on his face, which you caught a glimpse of the shadow of his eyelashes marrying the apple of his cheeks — even marked by the sadness that seemed to consume him from within, dongmin remained a boy so cute he made your heart flutter. brushing his cheek with your fingertips, a light sigh left your lips, « or shall i take you home with me? »

bringing your phone to your ear, you gave your address to the cab driver, who told you he'd be there in a few minutes. nodding to the waiter, you kindly asked him if you could pay the bill, and if he would be so kind as to help you escort dongmin to the extension — which he did, offering you the prettiest of smiles, but you seemed far too preoccupied with something to notice. dongmin seemed slightly less sleepy as the cold outside tickled the tip of his nose, but that didn't stop him from camouflaging himself in your arms again, his face once more wrapped in the collar of your jacket and your neck. « what do we do? » he managed to articulate, his hands clutching at the fabric of your coat as you looked down the road for the cab that was due to arrive any second, « we're going home. » you answered simply, while he just nodded, without protest or questions.

once the car ride was over, when you thought he was going to throw up all the alcohol he'd consumed on the back seats, you made him walk with difficulty to your building. as he mumbled through his teeth, his eyes struggling to stay open, you pressed the elevator buttons and waited patiently for it to reach your floor. « i'm sleepy.. » he whispered, once again letting all his weight fall into your arms. holding him upright with as much force as possible, you swiveled your head to face his, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek in the process. « we're almost there, can you make one last effort, please? » your voice sounded much more pleading than you'd intended, but you could swear your arms would eventually give out if you had to keep carrying him to your living room.

so he complied, nodding positively at your tone of voice, not without leaning against one of your shoulders to avoid collapsing on the ground. dongmin knew he'd probably forget some of the details of this long evening, but he promised himself he wouldn't forget to apologize to you for the embarrassment he'd caused. he'd probably feel ashamed for having let himself go so much during the night, especially right now — but the dark-haired boy told himself that it was so easy to talk to you, that blurting out what was in his mind and in his heart lately, wasn't such a big mistake. in general, he wasn't the type to confide in others, preferring to play it cool, but with you, everything seemed different, as if he entered a different world every time you were around. was he going crazy? probably. but it was nothing as long as he could meet you in his madness.

the sound of your key in the lock woke him from his thoughts, as he advanced like a robot controlled by your hands in this room that was totally unfamiliar to him. he couldn't express the joy he felt when his body came into contact with something soft, warm, while your hands were busy taking off his jacket, still cold from the outside air. placing his belongings on the coffee table, you helped him to lie down properly on your sofa. without further ado, dongmin fell asleep almost instantly, by the time you had run back and forth between your bedroom and the living room to bring him a warm blanket. unfolding the latter, you placed it gently on him, covering his whole body so he wouldn't catch cold. you quickly poured him a glass of water and left some headache pills on the table, convinced that the day after that evening was not going to be kind to him.

crouching down beside him, you watched dongmin's sleeping face for a few seconds, tucking a lock of his dark hair neatly back against his forehead. he looked so peaceful : probably thinking of nothing but sleep, leaving aside all his bad thoughts from his daily life. something inside you was forming, as your heart became attached to this new person in your life. dongmin, who was supposed to be just an employer, now seemed to be moving into a much more important category. the one your heart particularly loved to control. it might be hard to believe, even a little crazy, but you felt closer to him than to some of your friends at the moment.

gently caressing his cheek with the back of your hand, a sweet smile clung to your lips. « so much pain for someone so young.. » you whispered, almost like an inaudible sigh, thinking back to all the devastating sadness you'd seen in him tonight. he really looked broken, destroyed because of what jieum had done to him, when he seemed to have done nothing but love her during those long months. life was sometimes cruel even to the most beautiful people in this world — so all you could do was try to pick up the pieces of his heart, one by one. and that would take as long as it took to mend. but you swear to restore dongmin's ability to feel loved.

« you deserve to be happy, han dongmin. good night. »

and with one last kiss on his forehead, you let the pretty boy occupy your couch for one night.

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taglist ౨ৎ @leehanist @hikarii02 @lsmble @wtfhyuck @kjwnsz @en-dream

[theofficialpresidentofmars]

have not watched legend of Korra and in deciding whether and when i want to, i have compiled a list of pros and cons of watching it:

pros:

Korra <33

more official Avatar universe content

expansion on lore and worldbuilding mechanics

Varrick and Zhu Li

A cast of new and silly characters to get attached to

The revival of the Air Nomads

The older Gaang and their children

DILF ZUKO

cons:

the concept of the Industrial Revolution and sudden change on a global scale is deeply frightening to me. watching humanity evolve from fighting with clubs and swords to driving cars and listening to the radio within the span of a lifetime gives me chills down the spine, especially when part of the first series’ appeal was the fantasy setting of the past, a time when things were simpler and the ignorance of the world made things appear more magical. but suddenly the old ways of the world being overturned as machines replace magic and machines replace people and individual culture is diluted as borders are broken down and larger societal structures are established and communication improves until everyone is irrevocably connected for better or worse and suddenly this large and fascinating world is small and understood and plain and we can never go back because we’ve opened a box that cannot be closed because ignorance is bliss but wilful ignorance is shameful? the jarring experience of watching characters move further away from the world they knew into a world that only looks more and more familiar to the viewer. the knowledge of where this leads, and the use of fantasy as escapism being invaded by the cold truth of reality. Korra being a natural fighter in a world that needs a diplomat, only one cycle too late for the world that needed a fighter. born too late for her time. every single moment we make decisions that cannot be undone, that will leave a mark on our world and on time forever and ever. it happens whether i start watching it or not, but it doesn’t happen until i begin watching. I’d say that I might be happier living in such a time myself, but the truth is that modernity and convenience has poisoned me and I wouldn’t last a day. The other truth is that we hold onto the good memories of the past and find it easier to discard the others, and as such everything will be tinted in rose coloured glasses forever and the past will always be painted with the pretty certainty that it all ends well, which is more than what we can say for the future, or even the present. Do we really miss the 2000s, the 1980s, any decade as you would have it, or do we miss being small enough to be carried by our parents into our bedroom when we pretended to be asleep, comforted by their embrace and with the knowledge that they were definitive rocks of strength in our lives, before we grew old enough to realise their own fears, weaknesses, and humanity? Was it the way old classrooms were decorated, was it the trends and music of the time that made the past better or was it that we only heard terrible news from the radio or the television and had the privilege to simply turn it off? Was it the bliss of the time or, again, the bliss of ignorance? What are we losing right now that we aren’t even aware of? What won’t we miss until it’s gone? What happened to Suki? What happened to the world?

All in all, I’m currently undecided, although from the various clips and edits I have seen scrolling TikToks, both Korra and older Zuko are making strong cases.

(Don’t take this too seriously lol)

[erin8411]

~~~ The New Team Color of the Bad Batch in Season 2 ~~~

I was looking at the character posters of the Bad Batch (Season two) and only now realized that apparently their new unit color is orange.

Everyone -except Omega (and Crosshair, obviously)- has a orange stripe on their chest armor.

Besides on the cuirass (breastplate) the color can be found at minimum in one other place on everyone (except Crosshair).

The colors are especially well visible on the Hasbro Black Series figures.

Below you find the location of the orange paint on each batcher‘s armor.

Hunter

Locations: Cuirass, helmet, left greave (shin guard) and backpack

Tech

Locations: Cuirass, both pauldrons, both poleyns (knee guards) and backpack

Wrecker

Locations: Cuirass, both greaves and backpack

Echo

Locations: Cuirass, left vambrace, right pauldron, scomp and backpack

Omega

Locations: On top of her helmet

I am sure, in an alternate universe/reality, where Crosshair chose to leave with his brothers after the fall of Kamino, he would have orange paint on his cuirass, backpack, on his vambraces and/or poleyns and maybe on his helmet as well.

———

So, why did they choose orange? Why not stay with red? Below are some of my speculations.

After the destruction, the Empire thinks the Bad Batch is dead. While they try to stay under radar, an encounter is never 100% avoidable. If they paint their armor differently, chances are that they are less recognizable. Red has been the batch‘s signature color.

They either lost parts of their armor during missions or it was beyond repair or ditched it in favor of comfort, practicality or something else. So they have to replace it. And they choose the replacement depending on availability and personal liking. To regain some sense on unity, they choose a new team color, hence the orange paint.

Maybe they let Omega decide what color to choose? Or they voted? Or they stood in a paint shop, getting some advice from a vendor and still chose some color according to a counting-out rhyme? Or they found a can of orange paint on one of their missions? The possibilities are endless.

Though I suspect that Tech researched color theory (orange armor paint and blue pants? -complementary colors) and made a list of pro and cons of every color and also about their symbolism and meaning.

[strawhbrrries]

All That Matters, ii.

pairing: cocky!tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: working with a world renowned tattoo artist who knows his own beauty has more cons than pros. the main one being that he's infuriating and it turns you on.

warnings: general banter between frank and reader, jealous reader??, jealous frank?, mutual pining but they're both idiots, cocky frank duh!, tattooed frank with long hair!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 883 words

authors note: it wouldn't be a series if there wasn't some sort of trouble, theo my beloved don't get hurt!! if you want to be added to the tag list just drop a comment! as always, enjoy!

find the masterlist here!

read the first part here!

You waited at the reception desk until the girl from Frank’s booth left before marching yourself right in and leaning against the wall, waiting for him to acknowledge you. He was busy putting away all the machinery he used, throwing away all the single use products and checking his notifications to notice you standing there. It made you feel a bit invisible, you’d unpack this feeling later in the shower.

“I wasn’t staring.” You stated, watching his hair fall around his face when he looked up at you from his chair.

“So what were you doing then? Did you think he was cute? Good thing you already have his number.” He responded, going back to whatever he was doing on his phone before he realized you were there. It almost sounded like he was jealous, but you pushed that thought aside. He had no interest in you.

“Jesus, Frank. Go fuck someone and get rid of the attitude.” You scrunched your nose at his attitude and turned around, instantly regretting whatever voice convinced you to come back here and speak to him. 

“Are you offering?” You heard him call after you, your eyes were practically in the back of your head at his words.

Frank allowed himself to eye your ass the entire time you walked away from him, watching how it moved when you walked and imagining it grinding up against him in a club. If he was drunk would he know it was you? Would you know it was him? He put the image in the back of his mind for later when he showered and needed some help reaching that high only you could give, and you didn’t know you did. 

You spent the entire rest of your shift ignoring him, only speaking to the other artists and telling them to pass on a message for you if you ever needed to talk to him. He spent that entire time trying to figure out what crime he committed, besides being so devilishly handsome, to earn the cold shoulder from you. One of the other artists had finished all his scheduled appointments for the day and decided to sit at the desk with you, generally you got along with everyone you worked with. Except for Frank, the literal guy who owns the place.

In a heated argument towards the beginning of your career as the receptionist, he’d told you he only kept you because he couldn’t find anyone better to do your job. You were proud that you were the best at it, also upset that he disliked you that much he was actively searching to replace you. The resentment for the statement sat at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill out every single time he irritated you. Frank paid you well, it wasn’t even a question in your mind if it was worth working there. The jo was easy, the pay was amazing, but your fucking boss.

“Do you wanna go out for some drinks later? Some of the other people wanna go out and I wanted to extend the offer to you.” Theo, the other artist sat next to you, offered. 

“I mean, as long as I’m not a bother.” You smiled, handing him your phone to input his number and then switching to put your number in his phone.

“Never, I’ll shoot you a text with the place and all that shit later.” He shot a smile your way, it almost rivaled Frank’s smile. You rarely saw it though.

Theo had only been there a few months when you got hired, he’d been friends with Frank during their internships and only felt right working next to him. He’d welcomed you with open arms and never made you feel any lesser for your position, in fact he always made his appreciation for you obvious. On most days he picked up some coffee for you when he picked up his breakfast, always making sure to give you a few napkins just in case you spilled. It was a surprise to everyone, but yourself, that you didn’t have his number yet. You knew that the second you let him into your life like that, you wouldn’t keep your hands to yourself.

He almost looked like a blonde version of Frank, way less arrogant about his looks. If they told you they were secretly twins who were separated at birth you would’ve believed in an instant, your mind was blown when you found out they didn’t know each other until they were twenty. His voice wasn’t as deep or rough, just as loud though. You never could see an ink of skin that wasn’t covered in tattoos, on either of them, except Theo’s face. He had this weird thing about never tattooing his face, he’d do other people’s but never his own.

Frank rounded the corner to your desk and frowned the second he saw you two together, laughing. He’d been the one to bring up going out for drinks, he however had no intention of inviting you, he’d look like an even bigger asshole if he told you not to come after his best friend invited you. Theo being so close to you was irritating, Frank. He knew he was attracted to you but jesus, this was a problem.

tag list: @elsvrse

[our-magical-world]

Questions for MHA shifters

My Hero Academia is one of my main DRs and I always enjoy reading / listening to MHA shifters talk about their experiences there, it gives me so much motivation and it's usually super interesting.

So I thought about some questions I'd like to ask experienced shifters about their MHA DRs. Just random things I'm curious about. If you've shifted there and would like to answer (just for fun, feel free to skip any questions you're not comfortable with!) please reblog with your answers, or make a new post and tag me so I can read it. (You can also answer if you haven't shifted, based on your script and ideas, just let us know at the beginning).

1- First, are you a student or a pro hero / teacher / adult?

2- Mandatory question: What's your quirk?? Do you have any special moves?

3- Are you related to any canon characters? (as family or previous relationships like childhood friends, rivals...)

4- Any non-canon characters we haven't seen in the series who are part of your life? (like siblings, scripting your CR friends in there, or having children in your DR)

5- Do you have a crush? Are you in a relationship? or even better, love triangles? relationship drama? I want the tea (only if you're comfortable with sharing, of course!)

6- Did you make any changes to canon? (if you changed too many things, you can just mention a few interesting ones that made your experience very different from canon)

7- Did you script anything or make any changes to canon that didn't turn out as you expected? (as in what seemed like a small change turned out to change the story drastically)

8- Did you meet (or fight) the villains? How was it?

9- Is All Might as impressive as they say in person? (if you met him in muscle form)

For students:

10- Who are your best friends?

11- Did you replace anyone in class 1-A? (or B?) I've seen many people do this so the number of students stays even. Who did you script out?

12- Did you script Mineta out? Or change his personality? If you didn't, did you have any problems with him (especially if you're a girl)? Anyone (else) you scripted out or changed drastically?

13- I've seen way too many shifters say that Momo tends to start drama for no reason in their DRs and I'm a little concerned... was she like that in your DR?

14- What's your daily schedule at UA? Did you script your own schedule/timetable? Any subjects you love or hate?

15- Has anyone seen Bakugo's room or Tsuyu's room? They're the only ones that weren't shown in the series (Mineta's was described in the light novel), I'm curious to know how they decorated them!

For shifters who aren't students anymore:

16- Are you a pro hero? A teacher? A civilian? A villain?

17- What's your daily life like?

18- Who do you work with? Do you have your own agency? Sidekicks?Any interesting team-ups with other heroes?

19- Anything we should know about hero work?

Bonus: 20- Any embarrassing moments to confess? (you can do it anonymously if you want!)

21- Free spot: That's all I can think of right now, but feel free to include anything you want to share! You can also submit your own questions for other shifters and I'll add them to the post or create a new one.

THANKS!!