#also because Lucky subtly called me out about it

[heavenbarnes]

The way olderbf!simon and reader met is so cute even if it’s cliche, because I don’t see that man interacting with anyone unless he’s forced to lmao. If you’re up to it, could you maybe do a drabble on how the beginning/talking stage of their relationship goes? This man probs has to rehearse what he’s going to say 25 times (literally me) and still fumbles over his words but reader is still just 😍 yes this is the man I’m going to marry

they definitely needed a meet cute to me cause honestly? where are their paths ever going to cross without manual intervention? 🫶🏼

after you get that “it’s simon” text from older bf!simon it’s you that actually has to make the first move.

that’s not to say he doesn’t text you or anything, god when doesn’t he text you?

at all odd hours and just about anything-

“at the supermarket”

“what you watching? i’m watching top gear”

“what’s your favourite colour?”

“i’m at the gym”

you were a little confused at first by how abrupt and to-the-point his messages could be.

and then you remembered that this was the same guy who prefers a grunt to the common conversation, he probably thought he was doing great.

so when you were getting in your own head about why he hadn’t asked you out yet, you also remembered that this was the same guy who thought he could fuck up a cappuccino.

he was probably- scared?

whatever it was, you realised if you wanted to see him as bad as you did, you were going to have to pony up and ask yourself.

“did you want to maybe get dinner sometime?”

he called you.

no sooner had the ‘seen’ shown up, he was calling you.

“uh, hello? simon?”

“are y’forreal?”

excuse me?

if anyone else had asked you that question you probably would’ve scoffed and hung up.

he was lucky he was so hunky.

and subtly insecure.

“yes, i’d like to get dinner with you”

he paused, a quiet moment passing between the two of you with only a little shuffling in the background of his line.

and a little shouting in the distance.

was he on base?

“yes please”

you’d been a little distracted trying to pick any little bits of information you could (more than just his favourite colour, it’s green by the way) that you didn’t get his response.

instead, you hummed a little ‘huh?’

“i’d like t’get dinner with’ya, yes please”

“oh- great, i can text you some details?”

“yeah, i’d like that”

you weren’t really sure how to end the call or why he’d even called in the first place- but he wrapped it up with a few mumbles.

“jus’ wanted to hear y’say it, wanted t’make sure”

he shows up at dinner without a mask on and you’re sure you’re staring up at him like he’s made of moonlight but you can’t find it within yourself to care.

fuck he’s handsome.

and broad, the buttoned shirt he’s wearing just stretches over his arms where he’s rolled the sleeves to his elbows.

borderline pornographic.

you try to shut your own mind up, realising all the man’s done is open the restaurant door for you and you’re literally have salacious thoughts about him.

have some decorum!

he pulls out your seat for you but insists on sitting with his back to a wall and a line of sight to the door. you don’t mind, it means the light behind him virtually makes him glow.

fuck he’s handsome.

his voice is so deep you have to lean in on the table to hear him and all it means is you can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of him.

when he locks eyes with the waiter he does a subtle little flick of his fingers and the man’s heading right for him- he really exudes an air of dominance.

if you don’t marry this man you might die.

he asks you a lot of questions and seems genuinely surprised when you ask ‘and you?’ after every one.

surprised that somebody would care.

he answers with an endearing honesty and you feel all the better for knowing he prefers tea to coffee and starts his day with a cold shower.

his hand fidgets on the table part way through dessert and you have to ask what’s wrong.

“y’got a little somethin’ there”

he gestures to the corner of his mouth. it isn’t lost on you that his fingers immediately go back to flexing around the table cloth.

your hand doesn’t even move to wipe your mouth, your eyes soften just a little as you speak instead.

“you can get it if you want?”

his heart all but stops.

big hand rising to your face, fingers cupping your jaw as his thumb wipes the smudge of cream from the corner of your mouth.

he brings his thumb to your mouth when your tongue peeks out to lick the tip of it.

simon’s knee hits the underside of the table.

and you giggle.

fuck he’s handsome.

reluctantly, he lowers his hand but leaves it on your side of the table so you can hold it. his skin feels rough but he thinks it’s never been softer than when you’re holding it.

you both opt to walk home (hand still in hand) and you’ve never felt safer. you spend the entire walk talking about nothing and everything and you could scream when you end up at your front door.

it does allow you both to linger, neither one of you wanting to call it a night quite yet.

simon seems good at lingering, at yearning, at putting off what he doesn’t and does want.

so, like you were the one to make the first move-

you’re the one to make the second.

(his tongue feels great on yours)

you go to bed alone that night and it makes the most sense but it also fucking sucks because you know-

you know what you want.

and what you want is currently walking home beneath streetlights with the biggest smile he’s had this side of enlistment.

you accept the fact you’ll need to take things slow, that he obviously needs time and a lot of reassurance and you’d hate to push him too far with your own desire and-

and your phone buzzes.

“coffee tomorrow morning?”

“yes please”

the talking stage really doesn’t last long.

not when you’re kicking your feet in bed and hugging your phone to your chest.

not when johnny texts simon asking how the date went and he’s responding ‘not bad, might be in love’

talking stage doesn’t last long but everything else does.

it’s simply a doorway into a long and happy life.

[aceyalonso]

f1 drivers & how they express their love

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : none!

song: hold me down - daniel caesar

a/n : i love this song so much

main masterlist | taglist form

ʚ oscar piastri - remembering the little things

oscar always made it a point to remember the little things. whether it be how you prefer coffee or tea, or how you told him you fell off a chair as a child when you two were still friends, he will remember it.

he gets very shocked when you ask him how he still remembers something you said like 3 years ago and just stares at you like "so I was just supposed to forget about that???"

you end up just staring at him, not sure how to react because why the hell is his memory so good? you definitely won’t do anything embarrassing around him for a while because you’re scared he’ll remember it for the next 10 years (he will)

ʚ lando norris - giving gifts

i feel like lando is a giver (in terms of relationships). he's always getting you random stuff from whatever race you can't go to, he'll be complaining about how his luggage is too heavy but he's so willing to carry it because his gift is inside

he could be calling you, waiting on a couch for his next flight, talking about how the race was, what happened on the track, etc. when he suddenly starts complaining about how it's so heavy (and accidentally reveals his surprise gift) "yeah! and then- this bag is so damn heavy... you're so lucky I'm willing to carry this bag I got you"

the moment he realizes he accidentally told you about the (not so) surprise, he just starts freaking out like “WHAT??? WHAT BAG? HAHAHA WHAT? 😅😅😅 WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT” (some fans have caught this on camera at the airport; some drivers still clown him about it)

ʚ charles leclerc - name a song after you

charles has always been a romantic, planning dates, making sure he spends enough time with you, making sure you feel loved and seen, so what better way to show that by naming a piece he made after you?

if he would get asked why he named that song after you he'd simply say "oh, uhh, I named it after my girlfriend, but you guys already knew that- I named it after her because, well, she reminds me of a soft but loving melody, it took me a while to get it perfect- to make sure each note would be perfect."

the fans 100% gush over it, but you’re not too shocked. charles has always been one to think out each gift, each little detail, and how each would fit with the one he’s giving/dedicating it to.

ʚ lewis hamilton - leaving little notes

lewis is always at work, whether it be to race, to train, to do photoshoots for some magazine or interview, he's always never home. since the start of the relationship he has always insisted that you stay at his place, so roscoe can keep you company and whatnot. so during the times he has to leave early for work and you’re staying at his place he’ll always leave little post-notes around the house

when you wake up and he’s already gone, there’s a small note on your phone or glasses, “hi sweetheart, already left for work, love you!”, then when you’re in the kitchen there’s another note saying ���made your favorite food earlier, make sure to heat it up :)”

or maybe when he can tell you’re a bit down or not in the mood, he’ll leave little motivational messages/reminders throughout the house like “make sure to take a break” or “don’t forget to eat and drink water”

ʚ carlos sainz - keeping your picture in his wallet

to carlos, it’s his way of subtly saying “i have a girlfriend”. he has this polaroid picture of you, it was a picture he took on your guys’ first anniversary, and it’s one his many favorites too

he also thinks of it as like… taking you with him when you have work, he ends up calling it his lucky charm too, saying it gives him financial luck and stability (even though you’re probably the reason he will go broke one day)

one of the paparazzis spotted him one day, he was out with his family, and paid for something, the paparazzi ended up capturing a glimpse of his wallet, the polaroid tucked in a clear ID/card holder. he was very happy to explain it the reporter that asked him about it. “ah… i keep her photo there for goodluck. she can’t be with me for every race because she’s working, so this is the best i could do.”

ʚ max verstappen - protective instincts

in max’s eyes you were something worth protecting- like some precious jewel. with that said, he always makes sure you’re safe.

for example, you guys are walking on the sidewalk, on the way home from a date and he just says“liefje, can you move to this side?” or when you’re leaning down and there’s a sharp counter corner, and he places his hand over it so you won’t hit your head

he is also REALLY protective of you when it comes to people he doesn’t really like/know. a random man could be flirting with you and he’d come up behind you, saying “hey, there’s an emergency with the car, can you come with me?” but when you both get to the car he just tells you “we’re going home, i don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

ʚ george russell - meaningful gestures

george is one of the few drivers on the grid that openly show how much they love their girlfriend, with that said, george’s way of showing affection isn’t limited to just giving you a brand new coach bag or taking you on a 2 week trip to some tropical island.

he says that he wants to show his love in a more “chivalrous” or “traditional” way, and so he does. he holds open the door for you, walks you to the car door, opens said car door, and sometimes cook for you when he’s not that busy with work

also, he would definitely lend you his jacket but not without giving you a little sermon about it. “see? i knew you’d get cold- i told you again and again, ‘bring a jacket, bring a scarf’ but you didn’t, so now here we are.” while he’s putting his jacket on you and wrapping the scarf around your neck

ʚ franco colapinto - secret handshakes & inside jokes

franco is 100% the type to fall in love with his bestfriend, and he’ll tease his girlfriend every chance he gets, he’s the type of person that sees his partner as his equal, his bestfriend, his partner in crime

you two already had many inside jokes and secret handshakes, i mean you two were bestfriends friends before you were lovers so when you posted a tiktok of you guys recreating some old videos from when you guys were in elementary or highschool

in an episode of team torque, alex brought up the fact that lily made him do some tiktok trend, franco takes the chance to talk about you too “ah yeah, my girlfriend made me recreate the video our parents took of us when we graduated, it was the handshake we made when were like… 7? 9? the last part where we slap each other is an inside joke we added 1 month before graduation”

taglist:

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@anamiad00msday @morgrinha @zestytimbit @si1ver06 @lilorose25

@livsturnioloo @callsignwidow @tgif5577

[leah-lover]

Second chances.

Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Part 1. Part 2

Summary : what happened that night.

4 years ago 

“ stop staring at me and focus on the meeting.” you subtly text your girlfriend from across the room. You were sitting behind the computer so that you can control the slides and she was sitting with the rest of the team. You shoot each other a quick smile and redirect your focus towards the presentation. Once the meeting is over you grab your laptop and head towards the entrance. You were then stopped by Jorge vilda. “ As a part of my coaching staff I expect you to be present at my meetings not just with your body but also with your mind.” you look at him confused. “ giggling and smiling at your phone while I was talking is not acceptable.” 

“ sir it was just one text.” you try to justify yourself. “ Well tell your boyfriend that while you are in camp this team is your number 1 priority.” you didn't have a chance to say anythiçng because he left as soon as he finished talking. You brush off his comments and text your girlfriend about her whereabouts. You then head to her room as she instructed you. When you enter you put your laptop on the table and find your usual place next to her body. You nuzzle on her chest and just lay there as she strokes your hair. 

“ tough day?” she asked alexia. 

“ something like that.” you respond. You then turn around so that you can face her. 

“ Your free kicks were amazing today at practice. You might even be the number 1 in the upcoming games. your reaction time is also over the charts. It's near perfect.” 

“ This is becoming my favorite thing in camp.” 

“ what me telling you about how good you are?” 

“ no, you sharing the bed with me.” 

“ You know I can't stay for long. If he finds out about us we both are out of jobs.” 

“ how would he know? Please just tonight and I won't ask you again. I really need you.” Once alexia asked something of you you couldn't say no. Besides, you really missed her. “ okay but just for tonight.” you then kiss her and cuddle with her for the rest of the night. *

Since you didn't come back to your room your phone died. So as soon as you sneaked out of alexia’s room, headed to yours and plugged it in. Once you got out of the shower you unlocked it to find 10 missed calls, and 6 messages from none other than vilda. You panic as you open the messages. 

Why are you not answering? Why are you not in your room? Where are you? I can't keep looking for you all night? Fine if you don't answer i will go look for answers myself? 

Your heartbeat was faster than it had ever been.  You take a deep breath change out of your robe and pick up your phone to call him. 

“ conference room now.” he says as soon as he picks up leaving you no room for debate. 

Once you go to the conference room in which you were alone with him. He pointed to a chair so you sit there he doesn't though he kept standing. You found yourself speechless. 

“ I employ you with my team because I trust you. I think you have good judgment. But you failed me.” you feel a lump form in your through. “ You failed  me not only with your choice of lifestyle but also who you choose to corrupt and involve with you in this messed up situation. .” you close your eyes so that you won't cry while he still stands in front of you. “ I gave you a job, a   good one. I thought you were my right hand and that you would replace me when i decide to leave. But forming an indecent relationship  with one of my players is off limits.” you feel a knife jam in your heart and a tear leaves your eye. “ Your relationship is wrong and shouldnt have happened. You are lucky I like you so I am gonna give you a chance to change. Break up with her and apologize to me and you can keep your job and she won't be called up anymore. 

His last sentences changed your stance from scared to angry. 

“ Who the hell do you think you are?” you snap. 

“ I am the one who gave you two jobs and I am the one who can take it away from you. Plus I am trying to correct your choice of lifestyle because it is wrong.” 

“ choice of lifestyle. You have to be fucking kidding me. I love alexia putellas, i love a woman. Does it bother you that I love her?  Well go fuck yourself because nothing will tear us apart. And if you take this job away from me I will sue you even if it's the last thing I will do in life.” you were angry and furious. 

“ Nobody wants you here. The players feel uncomfortable because of your new relationship as confessed by the captain last night. So sue me if you want you won't win. Now hand over your badge, get your stuff and leave. You are fired." His blast words left you lifeless. “ as confessed by the captain last night” last night you were sleeping with alexia so it had to irene. You move on autopilot and almost break her door as you knock so hard. Once she stood in front of you you didn't find it in you to scream or fight. 

“ why?” you ask, sounding defeated. 

“ He asked me where you were and he threatened to kick me out of the team.” she said calmly. 

“ So you rat me and your friend out. You couldn't have told him I went for a run. We are friend irene. I didn't think you would betray me like that. I trusted you with the thing I love most in life and you took it away from me so that you could protect yourself. You could have lied.” you say crying. 

“ It was all bound to be exposed with time.” 

“ Is that what you are going to tell yourself so that you can sleep at night? You didn't have to tell him that my relationship made you uncomfortable. You didn't have to tell him anything.   You ruined my life irene. I lost my job because of you. I will never forgive you for that. never. “ you turned your back and left. You went to Alexia's room after. Once she saw your red eyes she took you in for a hug. In her warmth you cried. You cried because of Irene's betrayal. You cried because you lost your job. You cried because you lost everything. 

“ I love you. I love so much amor.” the way alexia said it felt weird to you so you got out of her hold and looked at her. She wiped the tears from your cheeks and took your lips for a searing kiss. She kissed you with so much passion and hunger it left your lips red. 

“ Alexia, what's wrong?” you ask concerned. 

“ He talked to me and asked me to choose between you and the team and I chose the team.” she said with tears in her eyes. 

“ why is it that everybody say things so calmly like its nothing? Is my love for you worth  nothing?” 

“ My whole family, my father’s legacy, everyone depends on me to make them proud. I need to stay in the team for them.” 

“ And what about me? Is everything we dreamt about gone in the wind?”

“ This is more painful than I could have ever imagined. I never thought we would have to leave each other. But my family comes first.” 

Her words cut through your heart and left nothing behind. You kiss her again for the last time; go to your room, collect your things and leave the hotel without talking to anyone. You felt your heart turn to stone as you saw the hotel in your rearview mirror. That day you lost your job, your life, your dream, your purpose, your love and also your heart. That day destroyed you without mercy. 

[fanbasetwo]

GYUVIN HAVING A SECRET CRUSH ON YOU!!

NOTE FROM SENA , i actually had an idea in my mind (which might explain how I made this one so fast lol) thank you for requesting this anon, I actually had fun writing this one! [REQUESTED] college au MASTERLIST!!

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

i. THE CLASS PREZ & THE NEW STUDENT

From the moment you entered the classroom as the new student, Gyuvin—class president and campus golden boy—was assigned to guide you around.

He approached you with his signature bright grin and confidence, extending a hand. “I’m Gyuvin, class president and your new best friend. You’re in good hands.”

He quickly learned you struggled a bit with your studies, but instead of judging, he offered to help you. “No worries. I’ve got you.”

Gyuvin loved tutoring you—mostly because it gave him a reason to spend time with you.

ii. HELPING YOU CHEAT

Gyuvin is so against cheating—seriously, he’s class president, he’s responsible! But… he’s also whipped for you.

During a particularly tough exam, you whisper that you’re doomed, and Gyuvin just sighs dramatically. “Don’t move, okay?”

He slides his answer sheet ever-so-subtly toward you under the pretense of stretching, whispering, “This never happened.”

After the exam, he scolds you gently: “I can’t believe I did that! You owe me for breaking my morals.” But then he softens and grins, ruffling your hair. “You’re lucky it was you.”

He’d never admit that seeing your relieved smile made it all worth it.

iii. THE PROJECT PAIRING

When the professor announces a paired project, Gyuvin immediately claims you as his partner, leaving no room for debate. “We’re a team—no questions asked.”

Working on the project together brings you closer. You spend late nights in the library, him explaining concepts and teasing you when you get distracted.

He’d always bring snacks—especially a strawberry milk bottle—because he “can’t have his baby starving.”

The first time he calls you baby, you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You’re basically my baby at this point. I take care of you,” he jokes with that boyish grin.

iv. THE STRAWBERRY MILK HABIT

Gyuvin starts carrying a strawberry milk bottle everywhere, and his friends are utterly confused.

“Why do you always have that?”

“My baby might need it,” he says casually, ignoring the teasing looks.

Whenever you look tired or stressed, he wordlessly hands you the bottle with a small smile. “Drink up. It’s your favorite, right?”

Even before you started dating, it became a small tradition—his way of silently showing he cared.

v. HIS TERRIBLE “SECRET” CRUSH

Gyuvin genuinely thought he was being sneaky, but in reality, everyone (including you) figured it out long before he confessed.

His friends constantly teased him for how obvious it was—how his eyes lit up when you walked into a room, how he couldn’t stop talking about you, and how he always prioritized you over everything else.

“You’re so obvious, Gyuvin. Even she probably knows.”

“No way. I’m smooth,” he’d insist, completely unaware that you’d been catching on for weeks.

vi. WHEN YOU FOUND OUT

You finally caught on one day when you overheard Gyuvin’s friends teasing him about how whipped he was for you.

“Bro, you’re carrying two strawberry milks now? Are you building a shrine for her?”

Gyuvin groaned, blushing. “I just want her to be happy, okay? Shut up.”

You cornered him later, smirking. “So… whipped, huh?”

Gyuvin froze, completely flustered. “Who told you that?! I mean—uh—what?”

vii. THE STOLEN KISS

Before you could fully confront him about his feelings, Gyuvin decided to beat you to the punch.

It happened after one of your late project sessions. You were packing up your things when he suddenly leaned closer, grinning mischievously.

“You know,” he said softly, “it’s not really a secret crush if you already know, right?”

Before you could respond, he brushed his lips against your cheek—a soft, fleeting kiss that left you stunned.

He laughed at your reaction, standing up and stretching. “What? I had to make my move before you started teasing me for real.”

viii. THE CONFESSION & DATING

Gyuvin finally confessed properly a few days later. He showed up at your doorstep with a strawberry milk bottle in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

“Okay, fine. I like you—a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Will you let me call you ‘baby’ for real?”

You couldn’t say no, especially when he looked so hopeful. “Fine. But only if you keep bringing me strawberry milk.”

From then on, Gyuvin became the best boyfriend—teasing you constantly but always taking care of you in his own sweet way.

His friends groaned every time they saw you two together, calling you the “power couple” because of how smitten Gyuvin was.

ix. AFTER DATING GYUVIN

He never lets you forget how hard he worked for you. “Remember when I helped you cheat during that exam? That’s love, babe.”

He still calls you “baby,” but now it’s with even more affection.

And yes, he always—always—has a strawberry milk ready for you because, in his words: “I’ve been your class president, your tutor, your partner… but being your boyfriend is my favorite job.”

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[tulip-room]

༊✩Are You Too Chicken?✩࿐

pairing. Osamu x reader

Content. Atsumu manages to coerce Osamu to play Suck and Blow with his crush at a party.

Warnings. fem reader, atsumu being...atsumu, KISSING. Mayhaps a little suggestive but no smut

Words. 1.2k

a/n: please tell me you guys have heard of this game before T^T also be happy with the ending because I was gonna cut it off before they kissed just sayin. My friend talked me out of it

Osamu hadn't decided if he was going to kill or thank his brother when he got out of the mess he was put in. His troubles started when the blonde noticed all of his shy smiles, discounts, red ears, and how he not so subtly leaned over the counter to be closer to you. You are the new manager for the MSBY Jackals. You with the pretty smiles and eyes that he swore he would actually get lost in. The mess in question was a card game, one usually played by teenagers desperate to get their first kisses out of the way. Suck and Blow is what it was called. 

Participants would sit in a circle, friends or crushes placed next to each other, and would pass a card around the circle. Seems easy enough, the caveat? You couldn't use your hands. You had to pass the card with your mouth and if it fell the punishment was kissing the person who was passing it. Now you may be wondering how Osamu found himself in the position to be playing this game. 

Unsurprisingly it was because of the same blonde he called brother. As you were pulled into the circle by the blonde, who was ignoring your feeble attempts at refusal, he gave Osamu one look. That wasn't enough to convince the other boy to join, no it was what he said. "Come on 'Samu! Get in here, unless of course," Atsumu smirked, knowing he was going to have Osamu playing right into his hand. "You're too chicken." That's what had done it. 

"Who're you calling chicken, scrub!" He rolls his eyes and joins the circle, annoyed that his brother had played him so easily. He took a seat next to you, some random girl on the other side of him. Atsumu decided he would start, he took the card and flipped it in his hands.

"Everyone know how to play?" Nods go around the circle. "Good, makes this easier. Remember, if the card drops you have to kiss." He mentions with a teasing smirk as he turns to face you and Osamu. He winks at your shocked face before starting the game. 

Round and round the card goes, it barely gets halfway through the circle before it falls. You watch in surprise as the two shrug with a smile before kissing. It's not a long kiss by any means, hardly more than one shared by friends. They start it up again. You wouldn't lie and say you weren't a little nervous about it getting to you and Osamu. 

You had made the mistake of confiding your crush on Osamu in Atsumu of all people (a moment of weakness you would later recount). He made it his mission to fluster you as much as possible, practically tormenting you (it was just fun to see your flustered expression and his brother's red cheeks from his teasing). So, for better or for worse he continued to push you towards his brother. This was the latest of his schemes.

Osamu lowered his head to get closer to you and then the plastic material was pressed against your lips. You would've forgotten to breathe in if you hadn't gasped the minute he got close to you. Okay, one round passed without your lips touching anyones, much to Atsumu's disappointment, and maybe your's and Osamu's disappointment as well. Atsumu visibly frowned at you and gave you a look that tried to convey his meaning. You already knew what he was trying to say though, you should've dropped the card. 

Atsumu is the next unlucky, or perhaps lucky, person to drop the card. Much to the joy of the girl sitting on his right. He's unashamed and grabs her chin and gives her a kiss, it goes on for longer than it needs to. He pulls away with a smirk and a pointed look towards you. 

Osamu rolls his eyes at the display. He briefly lets himself wonder how you would like to be kissed. If you would want a slow meaningful kiss or if you would want to be kissed in a more brazen way. Hungry way. He's so focused on you that he doesn't notice when the card reaches him again until the person sitting next to him taps his shoulder politely. He shakes his head and takes the card. He knows very well what his brother wants from him, he just doesn't know if he should play into the scheme or find a way to kiss you on his own.

And then he turns to face you and all his critical thinking goes out the window. You're looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Your gaze keeps fluttering between the card and his own eyes and he swears he hears his heartbeat in his throat. He hears the thrum of it and the warmth spreading across his face as he leans twoards you again. You jolt a little when his hand is placed gently on your thigh but don't find yourself pulling away from the touch. 

You're not sure whose fault it is when the card falls. All you know is that it fluttered down onto your lap and that there is cheering in your ears when it does fall. You can't really think about that currently though, you can feel your own heartbeat in your ears and you can see the blush prominent on Osamu's skin. You reach a hesitant hand up and place it on his cheek. "You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid," you manage to whisper out with a smile. 

"Yeah, I do." Oh? You weren't expecting him to agree but you couldn't deny that it made your eyes widen a little. "Can I kiss you now? I've been dying to since you came to the shop and I had to tell you that you had lipstick on your teeth." He leans closer and murmurs gently, lips barely inches apart. You let out a small laugh at that and move your hand so it covers where your mouths are about to meet.

"Well, you certainly have been waiting a while. Go on, kiss me. Or are you too chicken?" Yes, the very thing that started this whole predicament. He just smiles and puts a hand on the back of your head and the distance between the two of you is closed. Warm lips meeting warm lips, it's a bit awkward with the smiling. Your noses bump which just makes your smiles wider. 

You remember you're in a party when you hear a fake gag to your right. The two of you pull away with a laugh. "Are you two done yet? Happy for you, but I want to keep playing this game." You roll your eyes at Atsumu's antics and hand him the card.

"Well then, I guess 'Samu and I should go somewhere more private." You wink which earns another gag from Atsumu as you help Osamu up who looks dumbfounded at you. He just nods his head and follows you to a secluded room of the house. "Took you long enough." You smile at him and pull him into another kiss once the door is locked behind you. 

taglist. @hiraethwa

please send an ask if you want to be tagged in a specific character/ all my works <3

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rules

[demonslayedher]

Just thinking about how Chachamaru is a male calico, at least according the Taisho Secret right before chapter 195 that calls him manly. It really doesn't surprise me that he's male, because so many references to calicos I've seen in manga, mascots, and temple architecture specify that the featured calico is male.

This is because they are rare, and therefore considered lucky.

The figure that gets thrown around the internet is that supposedly only 1 in every 3000 calicos is male. (I'll bet the people who did the often quoted study at U. of Minn. College of Vet Med would love to tell you how it's more complicated than that.) This has long made male calicos popular not only in Japan, but in other countries as well. The thing is, though, the male calico might not always be so lucky.

To be very brief about why calicos (and some other multicolored cats) are almost always female, this is because, put very simply, one X chromosome gives us the black splotches, and one X chromosome gives us the orange splotches. That might leave you wondering where the white patches come from, and this is the part where I say that genetics is never simple and you should have fun reading about it. The important takeaway here is that in order to show this color pattern, a cat needs two X chromosomes, one from its mother and one from its father.

Typically, a male cat has an X chromosome (from its female mother, who only has two X chromosomes) and a Y chromosome (from its father, who had both an X and a Y), but because the calico coating can only occur with two X chromosomes, this male cat somehow got an X, a Y, and... hmm, another X somewhere.

So not a typical XY male, not a typical XX calico... this sterile XXY male calico has an extra chromosome, and mutations often are not ideal for the health of the animal with the extra chromosome. This particular condition is Klinefelter’s Syndrome, which can lead to a male calico having cognitive and behavior issues, weaker bones, increased risk of diabetes due to higher body fat, and perhaps a shorter lifespan.

Now, none of the fictitious lucky cats I've seen have ever been portrayed as anything less than smart and pleasant, though a lot of the maneki-neko are pretty round. For everything Chachamaru is tasked with, I have to assume he's above-average when it comes to intelligence, reasonably healthy enough to handle long-distance travel, and for a cat, he's extremely, extremely cooperative. For the record, the same Taisho Secret (as well as Yushiro's statement in Chapter 194) makes it clear that for most of canon Chachamaru was a regular cat, for he was not made into a demon until right before the final showdown with Muzan. Even with her hands full making the medicine for Muzan, she still put a lot of effort into changing Chachamaru so that Yushiro wouldn't be lonely. It's ironic that Chachamaru winds up immortal, rather than doomed to a potentially shorter lifespan due to his mark...ings. In the first place, was Tamayo perhaps moved with pity for a sickly kitten and nursed him to the health he's in now?

Or did she always keep her eye out for a male calico, wanting to put some faith in them being good luck?

Also, what sticks out to me in this Taisho Secret is that Chachamaru, not having a language in which he could communicate with Tamayo, had no choice in becoming a demon. Tamayo felt sorry about that. The word bubble over manly little Chachamaru says, with bravado, "Fine by me, if that's what the woman I'm smitten with wishes." If Chachamaru truly is that smitten with her, that perhaps accounts for what an unusually cooperative cat he is. But it also reminds me of a fan theory that I saw once (and found worthy of weight) which said that perhaps Tamayo's blood technique has an effect like makes others smitten with her, and Yushiro might had been under its influence, however strongly or subtly. If such a thing were the case, it might or might not had been something Tamayo was conscious of. If she was conscious of having some effect like that, she probably felt awful about it but found it a necessary precaution to keep any demon she made under control. If she wasn't conscious of such a thing, that means she might had subconsciously developed it out of loneliness, and had been trying to keep company at her side.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

You beautiful Butterfly you ! You know I can not let the 450 followers slide without yelling CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!! You deserve them and oh so many more of them!

I might not be around ( just yet, mind you, I will be back again stalking and all ) but this? I am so hopping on the celebration train with you.

So ofcourse I must add to the requests and see if you get to it ( or not, that is fine too cause you know, celebration!!!!!! )

I am not going with the man I love deeply, but with someone else this time, because well.... I love him too.... deeply ( much like other brothers of his teehee ).

Commander Wolffe x F. Reader

And the prompts? : 10."Youre lucky yuo got away with only a scratch." and: 6. "Im trying to fix your hair, so hold still."

As always, lub ya ! Smooches and huggles ( also from Boba and Jango ) and see ya soon ( or stalk ya soon )

Awww @ladykatakuri. it means so much that you reached out when you are going through things. Thank you so much love. I hope you find this enjoyable and what you were hoping for.

Love oo,

Can't Keep Doing This

Warnings: Injury, concussion, explosion, near-death, hurt, comfort, declarations, slight angst. I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Your eyes fluttered open, as you took in the ceiling above your head, only to be obscured by the medic droid flashing the scanner right into your eyes and down your body. You groaned as the light from the scanner practically blinded you. 

“Patient is fine, mild concussion. Patient will remain for one more day.” That’s all the droid reported as it hovered over to the next patient.

There was too much noise and too much light, you used your hand to block out some of the light, when you saw a hand reach over your head and turn down the lighting. You let out a sigh of relief, as you heard the privacy screen door close.

“You’re lucky you got away with only a scratch.” Wolffe’s voice boomed over you, you had a feeling he was doing it on purpose to make you realize how easy things could’ve ended for you.

“Isn’t that why you always call me your lucky trooper?” You teased, wanting to push his buttons. 

His brow furrowed as he looked at you crossing his arms over his chest, “You really want to test me, at this moment. You had no regard for your own safety when you pushed me out of the way of that explosion.”

You looked him in the eyes as best you could, “Wolffe … I … I couldn’t just do nothing…”

He let out a sigh of understanding, because the truth was if it was him, he would’ve done the same. Both of you understood there was something between you, yet, neither of you discussed it but you both knew. He was in love with you. You were in love with him. Truly, he couldn’t be that upset, because if it were he and he saw a grenade heading your way, he would’ve pushed you out of the way too. 

“Fine. But … you can’t do this to me … again …” he subtly gripped your hand, squeezing it tight, fighting the urge to kiss you. He wanted to show you how much he cared, how much he loved you but somewhere along the way you both decided without even a discussion you’d wait until the end of the war. Why? He had no idea. At the time it made sense, but now … 

“I promise,” you whispered, as you squeezed his hand back, “Really, I’m fine. It’s just a mild concussion. I still remember you, and your annoying habit of rolling your eyes.” You smirked hoping to ease his stress. 

“Well … as long as you remember the important things,” Wolffe looked into your eyes, saying all the things neither of you dared to speak out loud. 

A soft smile graced your lips as you looked at him, imagining what it would’ve been like to kiss those lips you thought so often about. You tried to get comfortable but the bun on the back of your head was bothering you more than you realized.

“What’s wrong with you?” He narrowed his eyes as he noticed you kept shifting your head. 

“It’s this stupid bun, it’s making it uncomfortable for me to keep my head back.”

Wolffe reached over without even being prompted to help, he gently lifted your head and started to undo the bun on the top of your head, the only problem was it felt as though there was a giant knot somewhere and it was hurting. You tried to shift your head to help him get a better angle.

“Would you stop, I’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still.”

“I’m trying but something’s pulling on my scalp, hold on.” You reached behind you and gently undid the knot that was causing you pain, once you undid it, Wolffe ran his fingers through your hair, loosening it as best he could.

“Better?”

You nodded, as enjoyed the warmth from his hands as he gently rested your head on the pillow again. You leaned into his hand when he didn’t remove it right away. Enjoy the way his rough hand  rubbed against your skin, the way the scent from his wrist filled your nose.

“Much better” you hummed in contentment, feeling the bed shift as he sat beside you.

“You really scared me. When I saw you go flying … I thought …” his voice died as he fought back the tears, “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just act like it doesn’t matter, when you’re the only thing that does.”

You opened your eyes and looked into his, your hand reaching up to wipe away the tears.

“I don’t want to act like it doesn’t kill me not to be in your arms, or to hold you in mine. I don’t want to keep doing this either.”

Wolffe leaned down, smiling as he gently pressed his lips against yours, memorizing how your lips felt and moved against his. “When you get released, you and I need to actually sit down and talk.”

“Talk?” You smirked.

He grinned a mischievous smile, “Well, maybe a very specific form of talking.” He chuckled as he kissed your lips again.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[pelleas-at-castle-nox]

I'm surprised I haven't really seen anybody talking about the food sourcing theme in dungeon meshi. Like, the very first thing it made me think about when I started reading the manga was like "oh yeah, this really makes you think about food, where it comes from, the work needed to create enough food for one person, let alone a small group, to eat comfortably and nutritiously. Laios even specifically calls out that 'regular' food is also made using shit and dirt, intentionally grounding it in reality and subtly asking the reader to introspect on the food they eat and where it comes from."

Like, it's fair to say kui has the old "world builder's" spirit, it's easy to extrapolate a whole world when you're willing to both ask "how does x mundane task work?" And being willing to give it as fanciful or grounded an answer as you feel is appropriate, food is the central theme, but that sort of thinking extends to every corner of the lore and world building where you can practically begin to trace back a lot of world elements to these basic questions, like "what would happen if there were people who lived for 500 years, what would happen if you fought a creature with two heads" and I think that's really cool-

But like, that core question "where does the food that sustains you come from" is like such a relevant question that we should all be asking ourselves. I suppose it's just that I think about that often, both when I'm world building, and in modern and historical contexts.

In a lot of ways it's alienation of labor, most USAmericans (to keep it at least slightly contained in scope) don't get to know where any of the food they eat actually comes from. At best, you might buy your own groceries and maybe even be able to google some information as to the conditions at the place this food was grown, maybe you're lucky/resourced enough to grow some of your own food in like a garden. At worst you get your food premade and prepackaged and you're even completely divorced from the preparation aspect.

A major symptom of this is clearly shown in dungeon meshi's opening and especially in kabru shuro and even the canaries: when food is taken for granted, it becomes easy to neglect. The party initially wiped simply because they'd not considered how suicidal it was to press onward while exhausted, Kabru is so dissociated and focused that he shuts out most of his own biological signifiers of hunger, Shuro starves himself, equating food with leisure instead of a vital practice to sustain life and energy, and of course there's mister no desires.

It's no mistake that in all of the above cases, it's seemed to be heavily implied that food is either an after thought, or someone else's responsibility, or a simple logistical concern. Senshi's whole rant (in volume 1!!) about "oh the youths of today just buying prepackaged meat wine and bread" is especially tied in to this main theme of "do you know where your food comes from?" By taking it to the next level and asking "do you know why you're eating what you're eating?"

To take a personal side tangent, I was recently diagnosed as diabetic, and it's completely changed my relationship to food on a pretty fundamental level, but I'd say I'd always had a pretty good and healthy relationship with food (after I stopped having an eating disorder but that's a story for another day) so it was an easy enough adjustment to have to start actually thinking about how much of my diet was carbs and things like that, it just became a matter of considering what I was eating and when and why. I'm still not perfect at it and it's still a learning process but I'm working on it.

Anyways, my main theory as to why I've not seen it being pontificated on is just that in general people really hate being asked "do you know what you're eating?" Around these parts in a general fashion, but like, especially with weaponized starvation going on and very real issues of things like food desserts in America, and the fact that we all have to pay for just about every little meal, I think it's important for leftists to contemplate the political implications of meals.

An army runs on its stomach after all. Rant over

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 9[Bonus] : A Reasonable Response

I was bored. Have some of these :33

[𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 10, 9:47 ℙ𝕄, 𝔻𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖-ℂ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣]

A week and a few days has passed and they finally found Him.

Dante tossed his cigarette away and chuckled as he heard the subtle footsteps coming from the shadows behind him. "Batman..." He tilts his head and glaces behind him where he saw Batman from afar with Robin by his Side.

Batman was way cautious now unlike before when he presumed Dante as a normal Civilian. "... You... What are you... Dante Jamie Masters." Batman stayed in place as Dante fully turned his body to face the two vigilantes.

"Dan is just fine and that's quite rude yk? Calling me a What instead of a who but it's still a logical question I suppose. How do I word this. I'm... Half-Dead I suppose?" Dante laughed out softly. Batman furrowed his brows and Dante raised his hands slightly. "I'm serious Big Bat. I suppose since you're the JL I can trust you.... Or unless.... You're just like the GIW?" Dante's eyes flickered Green and Red As the headlamps of the streets flickered with him going dark for a moment before turning back on.

Dante was nearer Batman now but Batman did not flinch. "What's the GIW." Batman merely asked as Robin got closer to Batman's back, essentially hiding himself and Batman keeping him closer intentionally to protect him.

"Ghost Investigation Ward, also known as Guys In White Back in good ol' Amity part, Illinois. They don't Investigate those Ripoff Men in Black motherfuckers. They categorize us... Ecto-beings as non sentient people.... As you can tell we have no mercy for Humans. In fact I could destroy this world if I ever wanted! But... It's a good thing my baby brother exists doesn't he?" Dante laughed as he backed off Batman who was more Uneasy now.

"You know, we're sentient too. We have emotions. Yet they made a law against us so that they could experiment on us. Maybe have passed and destabilized... If the JL ever sides with those bastards... I won't be so merciful." Dante turned around and lit another cigarette.

"Danny likes the JL, he likes humans. He's half one anyways... Short to say that... He's the only reason why we haven't waged war in this stupid realm. Your realm is lucky Big Batsy.... Now don't bother me unless you've done something actually beneficial to my cause... And besides.... Scarecrow Deserved it." The lights flickered again and Dante was gone.

"B..." Robin looked at an uneasy Batman, he was thinking deep, "Let's go." Batman decided the safest option is to leave Dante alone for now Because of the unknown potential of what Dante could do it's still at the very least in some sort of... Chains holding him back..

Holding "ecto-beings" back... He needs to Investigate more about this... Laws and 'GIW' organization. He doesn't like the sound of it, especially since it might just be going against the Meta-Protection Rights.

[𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 10, 10:00 𝙿𝙼, 𝙲𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢]

Jason took a deep breathe before speaking out as Dante Hugged him tightly. "Honestly, that was hot-" Jason blurted out unexpectedly as Dante Buried his face on Jason's Chest.

".... Yeah...?" Dante chuckled and Jason nodded feeling his cheeks flush up even more, Damn is this Big Cryptid Half-Dead Possibly Soon to Be boyfriend of his both very threatening or a Big Damn Golden Retriever.

Dating this big man has been a ride for Jason,

Eventually leading to them having their 'first night' at Jason's apartment. 'Damn am I freaky like that??' Jason thought to himself. "So you really did kill Scarecrow..." Jason said and plops on the couch and Dante followed suit.

"Yep" Dante confirms emphasizing the pop of the 'P' , "The Timothy Guy has been subtly questioning me about it, he says he doesn't plan on telling B out of Spite Apparently. He says as he adjusts his body and Puts his head on Jason's Lap. "Huh. Replacement got his priorities straight" Jason said as he turned on the TV.

"Danny's getting better... He should be back home soon and I'll be finally sane again and he can finally hopefully probably get his life straight and human like again as he's always wanted." Dante sighed in relief, his eyes softening. "Hopefully Bat gets the hint and dismantle that organization that makes my brother illegal.... I won't hesitant to kill anyone who tries to hurt him..." Dante huffs as he sits back up.

Dante hugs Jason and Jason just lets himself melt in the Big Man's Arms. Dante takes a picture for fun and Posts it on his Page. Well. Why?

To brag about his beautiful boyfriend.

Dante kisses Jason's Forehead, Jason's still adjusting to this cryptid man and the pits slowly silencing further more because of this guy. He makes Jason Calm and Jason Makes Dante Calm the Way Danny does as well.

[Next Chapter will be Bat-Fam Centric sort of :33 , I just wanted to write this cuz I'm bored as shit.]

Enjoy <33

[jor-elsemissary]

Can’t Stop Loving You p4

The Press Room was stifling. There were too many people and it was far too bright for his liking. The majority of people in the room were men and women who would gladly tear him to pieces with their questions and scathing column pieces if it would sell papers and get them a pulitzer. Though, out of all of those present, at least he can trust Lois Lane to be honest with her inquiries even if they were hard questions to answer.

“Mister Luthor,” piped up said reporter from The Daily Planet, legal notepad in hand and pen tapping at her lips as she finished formulating the question in her mind. “Some people are saying that the only reason you are leading the recovery and rebuilding efforts in Metropolis is because of the government subsidies and lucrative contracts that LuthorCorp will be entrusted with for the next ten years. It is estimated that your company will gain a profit in several billion dollars. What do you have to say in response to such speculation?”

Leave it to Lois Lane to question his reasons for restoring their city. Right now he wished he was anywhere else than here. Preferably on the way toward Martha’s townhouse to pick her up for dinner. Thinking about the red-haired senator had his mind wandering before he realized it was wandering. It took him a few moments to regather his thoughts and focus on the press conference. His fallacy in composure hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others and he heard Lois call to him again. He only hoped that it was perceived as hesitancy to answer rather than losing focus.

Lionel cleared his throat and put on a smile, “As you are aware, Miss Lane, no venture—whether it is charitable or business—comes without some kind of profit made or lost. LuthorCorp would prefer to gain rather than lose, but any profits we do obtain from this is merely an added bonus. I and my company have the resources and familiarity to help Metropolis regain its splendor and glory, and it only makes sense that we lead the rebuild efforts. Metropolis is my city. I grew up and lived there my entire life, and it pains me to see the death and destruction brought to it by these alien invaders. If I can help in any way, then I will.”

“Is it also true then, that Senator Kent asked you to help?” Lois threw out there before any other reporter could ask their question next. The cameras in the back started snapping at a faster pace and Lionel tried to blink away the multiple flashes. He wanted to say yes, that Martha had called him up to discuss about helping the city and her people, but he would be lying. He hadn’t spoken to Martha since she had broken up with him months ago, no explanation as to why or if he had been at fault. The pain of their break up must have bled into his expression for he could hear concern in Lois’ voice as she pressed him, “Mister Luthor?”

“Whether Senator Kent asked Mister Luthor for his aid is irrelevant,” Rebecca came to his rescue, gently guiding him away from the podium so he could make a discreet escape. “The fact remains that Lionel Luthor and LuthorCorp are helping the city at a great cost to the company’s reserves. LuthorCorp intends to see the reconstruction and rescue efforts through to the end.” He subtly checked his watch and noted the time. It was rush hour and he would be lucky if he made it on time to Martha’s place.

With one last glance toward his personal aide, thanking whatever higher power there was for her, Lionel quietly left the press conference and headed out of the East Wing of the White House. It took him only a matter of minutes to reach where his limousine was waiting and be on his way toward Martha’s townhouse. He glanced at his watch again and noted how much time he had and muttered a curse under his breath.

“Ron?” he called to his driver.

“Sir?”

“Is it possible for us to avoid the congestions and reach Martha’s place on time?” Lionel asked of the man. Ever since he had hired him after losing Alex, Ron had proven to be quite reliable, a fighter and very loyal. It was hard to come by employees with that kind of work ethic, especially toward wealthier clientele.

Ron was silent for a moment while he messed with the nav-screen. After a moment more, he nodded in answer, “Yes, sir. I believe I can get you to the Senator’s place in time.”

Pleased at the answer, Lionel leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as he tried to relax after a long day. He tried to think about anything else but Metropolis and even Martha, but his thoughts eventually wandered back to her and the dinner that they were about to have.

He wondered how she has been since she broke up with him, one of many questions he knew he would ask of her once they met again. He also wondered why she had in the first place. He had thought long and hard over the following days and weeks as to what he might have done or said to have her break things off, but he could not come up with anything that would have warranted that kind of reaction from her.

So he started digging instead.

He had his personal detective look into her activities, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t something extreme as blackmail that forced her to leave him. But the man had found nothing out of the extraordinary other than Martha being appointed to a committee that oversaw the country’s various black operations. It was possible she had learned something LuthorCorp was involved in that she didn’t approve or maybe a threat to his or Clark’s wellbeing, but again it wouldn’t be enough to make her leave him.

Martha would have worked things out with him if that had been the case.

Lionel glanced out the window of his limousine and stared aimlessly at the buildings and people outside as they passed them by. The vehicle slowed to a stop at a traffic light and his attention was drawn to a shop filled with various flowers. He realized that he needed something to give to Martha to help break any ice that was between them and he knows a gift of flowers always works with women.

“Ron, stop here!” he told the man and immediately opened the door before the driver could respond to his demand. Lionel stepped out of the limo and stared across at the flower shop. He heard the car move, Ron having no choice but to continue with the flow of traffic. Lionel was confident that he’ll loop around and be back in time to pick him up.

Until then, he had to pick out a bouquet that Martha would like.

He headed into the shop, pushing the door open with a jingle of bells to announce his presence to the owner. Immediately his senses were assaulted with the fragrances of the various blooms and he was grateful that he was not allergic to pollen or the perfumes they gave off. But he was overwhelmed by how many bouquet arrangements there were.

Lionel found himself rubbing at his right hand, pressing into the tendons of his palm more out of a nervous habit than pain these days. He had no clue as to what to get her and how she would take them. He knows she once had a garden at the farmhouse and she planted all sorts of flowers but he couldn’t remember for the life of him which ones she had picked to decorate her home with.

A clerk soon came from the back with a smile on her face. A dark skinned woman with a thick mane of hair done up in a braided bun. She wore a flowery shirt and simple blue jeans underneath a green stained, apron that had the name Mal tagged to it. She was taking off a pair of gardeners gloves by the time she reached him. “Hello! Welcome to Malory’s Flower Bouquet. What can I do for you?”

He found her customer service to be a little overbearing, perhaps the fake smile she wore unnerved him more than the greeting. But he didn’t let it bother him or judge her for it too much. It was her job to be friendly even when she didn’t feel like it. “I am looking to purchase a bouquet for someone. I… uh, have no idea what she likes but I want it to be meaningful.”

“For a wife or girlfriend?” she inquired and he was a little perplexed that she didn’t recognize him or maybe she did and she was just being polite.

“Girlfriend,” he supplied and then quickly added, “Former. She, uh, accepted a dinner invitation and I am hoping to reconcile.”

“I see,” the woman said and turned toward her arrangements, disappearing among them. “Are you at fault?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Did she break up with you because of something you had done and you want to apologize?” Malory elaborates from behind several roses of various colors.

“That’s the thing… I don’t know if its something I did. She never said.” Why was he telling her this? All he wanted was a bouquet to give to Martha. “Why do you ask?”

“Well if you want to be meaningful, you need to understand why you are doing it and what you want to say to her with them,” she explained. “What do you want to say?”

“I…,” Lionel paused to consider the question. What did he want the flowers to mean? He knows roses are about love and desire, he’s given plenty of those. He certainly loved Martha still and he did desire her, but he didn’t want her thinking that’s all she was to him. “I don’t know. I love her. I want her back and… and whatever it is that upset her I’m willing to work things through if she’ll let me.”

After a minute Malory emerged from the arrangements and she had in her hands a bundle of various colored tulips. “Tulips are romantic, Mister Luthor.” So she did recognize him then. It surprised him that someone was being nice and didn’t want to insult him. “The red symbolizes love and pink is affection.”

She brought the bundle over to her desk and laid them atop of a stack of brown paper. “White tells her you wish for forgiveness and worthiness, that you wish to reconcile with her.”

“I… was not aware that tulips were that symbolic,” he confessed as he watched her wrap the flowers into a simple bouquet arrangement that he can easily carry.

“Not many are,” Mal tells him and brings the flowers over to the till to check him out. “Unless your girlfriend is familiar, what I told you is more for your sake than for her. She’s not likely to know what they mean unless you tell her.”

Lionel gave a small laugh, “Oh I’m sure she knows. One of her close friends back home was a florist too.” He knew Martha and Nel were close friends, something he had learned many years ago when he had been unfaithful to Lillian and had a brief affair with Lana Lang’s aunt. He was confident that Martha knew her flowers through her and from gardening.

He accepted the flowers after paying for them in cash. They looked appealing and smelled nice, their fragrance wasn’t as overpowering as some of the plants there. He hoped Martha would like them and understand his intentions for tonight. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you need any more arrangements, please consider us for business.” He nods to the owner and then makes his way back out onto the street.

As predicted, Ron was patiently waiting with the limousine and with the passenger door open for him. He ducked into the car and carefully set the bouquet down beside him. Ron closed the door behind him and resumed driving his boss to the Senator’s place.

Lionel would occasionally glance at the flowers and ponder the meaning of them. He deeply loved Martha and admired her a great deal. Although the break up had come out of no where for him, blind siding him even, he couldn’t let her go. He had tried and all his efforts did was lose a good secretary and end up with one that reminded him every day of what he was missing.

He had been an idiot to think he could replace Martha with a facsimile. His vindictiveness only ended up hurting himself and put a good woman in an awkward position.

He hoped the florist was right and that Martha would understand the meaning of them. He wanted this to work out.

He wanted Martha.

Lionel leaned against the window of his door, resting his head against it as he let his thoughts drift to the good times he had with her.

———

The limousine soon pulled up to a line of old, brick townhouses with oak trees in front of them, their branches providing shade over the sidewalk and the street. The homes had black, wrought iron fencing that protected what little yard they had in the front and the small walkway leading up to the doors. Some of the homes had decorative, garden flags, and most had at least the American flag gently swaying in the small, winter breeze. Snow had yet to fall and blanket the place in its wintery embrace, but Lionel could see icicles having formed on the gutters, tiny pinpricks of droplets caught frozen in time until they broke off or spring came first.

Ron stopped the car in front of one of the houses, a white brick home nestled in between two others. He doubted a sheet of paper could fit in between the walls separating the townhouse. He could see a little bit of Martha on the outside of the home, the small garden she planted beneath the windows had a little bit of Kansas in them, hardy blooms that could withstand the cold. They weren’t blooming yet, their buds still closed but he suspected they would show their beauty soon enough.

In a way he felt that was how their relationship was. Closed but waiting to blossom again when the conditions were just right to do so.

His door opened when Ron stepped up and Lionel sat in his seat for a moment longer as he tried to gather his nerves. How long had it really been since they had parted, since they had last spoken to each other? Despite what had been said at the press conference and in the newspapers, they hadn’t spoken since the breakup. Rebecca had been the intermediary between them the few times he wanted to talk to her or Martha wanted his help on rebuilding the city.

A small smile creeped onto his face when he realized that was how Rebecca knew he needed Martha still. He should give her a raise for the trouble he had probably put her through these last few months since he hired her. The poor woman was probably fed up with him pinning over Martha by now.

Lionel reached over for the bouquet of flowers and stepped out of his car. “Hopefully we won’t be long, Ron,” he tells his driver and the man nodded in reply. He started for the small gate that barred unwanted visitors from entering the small property, found it was not locked and lifted the latch with a gloved hand while he held the flowers in his other arm.

The few steps to the door felt like an endless trek and when he finally stood in front of the mahogany door, he suddenly found himself fighting a nervousness he hadn’t felt since they first started seeing each other well over a year ago. He took a moment to take several deep breaths to force his anxiety to the back of his mind and take control of the moment.

He was a Luthor. He had more nerve wracking business deals than this. He can handle meeting a woman he cared about and was deeply in love with.

He can do this.

Before he allowed his insecurities and anxieties get the better of him, Lionel reached out and pressed the brass plated doorbell and waited. He stood waiting outside and swallowed back the nervousness as he caught sight of a shadow beyond the frosted glass pane beside the door. A moment later the door was opened and the woman who has haunted his dreams for the last several months finally stood before him in all the beauty and allure he remembered.

He wanted to stare in awe at her, remembering the first time he had seen her dressed up and how amazed he was by her beauty. They had been friends back then, but he had known then that he would do anything for her. It didn’t matter if she returned his feelings or not. This was a woman he had wanted and the usual lust he would have felt for any other woman was only a passing thought in the back of his mind.

Lionel smiled happily at seeing her. So thrilled was he at seeing her he hadn’t quite caught on to her expression until she forced herself to smile. He felt a pang of insecurity and disappointment creep up his spine and knew his own smile had faltered a little. He realized that she wasn’t all too happy to see him like he was with her. Had he been any other man, he would have given her the flowers and apologized before walking away.

But he wasn’t any other man and he wasn’t going to let her go so easily. He made the mistake of doing so the last time and he was not going to this time. Either they got back together or she made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. He won’t lie to himself that it won’t hurt, but even he wasn’t so foolishly in love to continue something that couldn’t be.

“Hi, Lionel” Martha had quickly greeted him and stepped back to invite him into her home.

The fact she hadn’t barred him from entering was promising and gave him hope as he stepped inside and he nervously held out the bouquet of flowers to her. “Hello, Martha,” he greeted but the smile he wore began to fade when she hesitated to take the flowers. Perhaps he was wrong into believing he could win her over after all if she wasn’t very receptive to his presence and gift.

He wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t hurt. He very much felt like he was being stabbed in the heart by her reluctance. He tried to tell himself that whatever it was that had her break up with him in the first place must still be fresh for her and that was the only reason for her reactions toward him.

Lionel just wished he knew what it had been so he could help her and so he could understand.

Martha finally accepted the flowers, out of politeness he knew, and brought them over to the kitchen. “You looked well at the press conference,” she offered small talk and he gladly accepted the distraction from the growing tension between them.

“Hardly,” he answered and watched her as she put the flowers in a vase. Lionel kept his distance from her, choosing to give her space rather than be in it himself like he wanted to. He wanted to touch her then and there, just to feel her warmth under his hand and take in the comfort of her presence near him. He wanted to smell the fragrance that was uniquely her’s and he wondered if she still wore the same perfume, the very bottle he had given her as a gift in the early days of their relationship.

The desire to be next to her was overwhelming and it took everything he had to respect her decisions and choices about their relationship, and start things all over again. He didn��t like it and he knew it was in part stubbornness from them both. He loved her too much to invade her personal space and she, he wanted to believe, she was just being stubborn about the truth of their breakup.

“Between rebuilding Metropolis and handling stubborn politicians,” he continued and did his best to keep his bitterness out of his voice. “I am exhausted. Its a wonder I haven’t collapsed from the stress.”

“You’re a businessman,” Martha reminded him and turned to face him once she had the flowers nestled beautifully on the kitchen island. “You thrive best in stressful situations.” Except when breaking up with the woman he loved. Except when facing her again months later wanting to know why and hoping she would take him back.

He was, internally, a nervous wreck right now and it probably showed on his face. “Yes.” So he cast his gaze downward and clasped his hands behind his back to control his emotions and give him some semblance of a grounding. When he looked back up again and saw a genuine, warm smile, Lionel couldn’t help but smile back and felt that hope he had from moments ago be renewed.

“Shall we?” I’m sure you’re quite hungry, I know I am.” He held out his hand to her and was pleased when she didn’t hesitate this time to accept and let him tuck her arm under his. Lionel led her out of her home and waited for her to lock the door before leading her down the small path, through the gate and to the waiting limousine where Ron stood with the passenger door open.

His driver smiled warmly at the Senator, no doubt pleased to see her and Lionel had to wonder if all his staff was conspiring to get them back together somehow. If they were, it would be a story to tell should their efforts pay off. He found he couldn’t be angry or upset that people were conspiring against him on this.

Lionel stepped aside and let Martha enter the car first before he followed behind her. She settled across from him much to his disappointment, but he had to remind himself that they were not intimate with each other right now and this was, essentially, a first date all over again.

Once Ron had the limousine pulled back out onto the suburban street, Lionel tried to start up a conversation with her, “So, how have you been?” He doubted she would tell him the truth or give any clue as to why she had left. A part of him did not want to know, afraid that it had been him as to the reason why she had left; but a part of him did want to know so he could fix things.

The uncertainty was a cloud that was hanging over them, threatening to downpour and ruin things forever between them. He didn’t want that and he needed to decide now whether he wanted to know or not.

“I have been well.” He watched her carefully and knew it was a lie. He could see the stress of work creased around her eyes and at the corners of her lips. But there was something else that was bothering her and he suspected he was the reason for it. His sudden appearance in her life must have reminded her what had troubled her back then. “So this restaurant you’re taking me to, tell me more about it?”

The question was a distraction meant to keep him from prying into her life. He debated on whether he should ignore the question and press her for more. To do so would cause her to close up and he knew from experience that she would keep things close to her until she was well and ready to tell him. He needed to coax her into being ready sooner without making him look like he was prying too hard.

So he’ll answer her question and wait. He was patient. He had waited years for her to be ready to explore who they were to each other, he could wait a little longer to find the truth and get her back. “Its a small Italian hole in the wall I found a few years back when I was lobbying Senator Burke over some environmental issue involving LuthorCorp. It was surprisingly good and the ambience was welcoming, and dare I say it, romantic the few times I brought someone with me.”

“One of the many women you charmed into your arms?” It was a simple, innocent observation of what she knew about his life, but it sounded accusatory and disapproving to his ears. He knows Martha would not judge him for his past lifestyle, so why did it leave him feeling unsettled and needing to be mindful of what he said to her? “I noticed you have a new personal assistant.”

Lionel blinked at how quickly the subject turned and he wondered where this was going. He was quiet while he studied Martha, noting how she nervously knotted her gloved fingers and how she would not look at him. He frowned a little as it dawned on him what was meant by her statements and he wanted to laugh. But he refrained from doing so, knowing it would only be demeaning and further cement her assumptions.

“Rebecca?” he mentioned with a tender, reassuring smile. “She’s a good secretary. Reminds me of you, actually.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” he couldn’t help but say and that got her attention. Martha snapped her gaze to him and he felt the scornful glare, but he ignored it. “You needn’t worry about her, Martha. She’s engaged to another woman.”

“Another woman?” Martha looked a little confused but it gave way to a calmness that secretly signified she was relieved. He wondered what she thought he had been doing with the woman? Granted, he had foolishly, and a bit spitefully, chose Rebecca because of how much she looked like Martha and had tried to seduce her—failing spectacularly at that too—but once it became clear she would never be interested, he saw her only as an employee.

“A lesbian,” she commented and then the smile that he so adored found its way past an insecurity he hadn’t been aware Martha had, had. It gave him some insight into what she thought of him and was feeling. If she could feel upset at being replaced, she still felt something for him. That she still wanted him but whatever it was that made her leave was a barrier between them.

“Yes,” he chuckled softly. “Imagine my surprise when she told me about her engagement.” He returned her amused smile with his own, pleased that he could still get her to smile. “It certainly put a damper on any thoughts of seduction.”

Martha rolled her eyes at him, “But that is what you were trying to do when you hired her? What happened to Janet?”

Lionel sighed at the question, “I… didn’t take our separation well and drove her into quitting. It’s the same reason I hired Rebecca. Martha, why? You never told me, only that it wasn’t working out. What had I done?”

He hadn’t planned on asking her now before dinner but the conversation had led to this and he really wanted to know. “Please let me fix things.”

“You can’t fix this Lionel,” he heard the hitch catch in her breath. He furrowed his brow when her hands covered her stomach. His eyes widened as he realized what had happened.

“Martha…”

“I had been.”

[ilguna]

☼ lucky charm (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; believing that he'll fail the next game that'll win hufflepuff the quidditch cup, Finnick comes to you asking for felix felicis.

warnings; swearing, rule breaking

wc; 2.9k

notes; hogwarts au

–

Ever since you found out you could make money from illegally selling potions to other students, you haven’t stopped.

You didn’t realize there was such a demand for potions, otherwise you would’ve started sooner. You could be rolling in more galleons than you know what to do with—not that you aren’t already. You will say, though, that it’s extremely time consuming, and they’re lucky you have nothing better to do at Hogwarts.

You’ve tried joining the extracurriculars, but they’re not nearly as entertaining. You don’t have the talent for quidditch, and you were told that by the Captain when you tried out last year. And the last thing you want to do is try out for the frog choir, that’s a ticket to get laughed at.

Actually, you were hoping that Snape would finally come out with a potions club that you could go to instead of studying in the library. As much as he hated to admit it, he told you that you were one of the best potion makers that he’d seen in years. He called you a bright student and then made you promise to never repeat those words to anyone else.

If you could, you’d shove it all in the slytherin’s faces. You’re sure that they’d be pissed a hufflepuff is accomplishing feats they should be doing with their eyes closed. After all, Snape is their house professor, not yours.

You draw a line through a name in your notebook, drawing an arrow to an empty space to write a note on why their order is cancelled, when you hear your name. You look up, closing the notebook in the process to hide what’s inside.

There’s not a lot of people that know you make potions under the table. There’s only a select few people that do, and that’s so you don’t end up getting caught. Your closest friends try to keep their ears out for those who are serious about buying, and they subtly lead them to you.

The only house that you refuse to help so far are the ravenclaws, because they believe in fairness more than the other houses do. They’ll turn in cheaters without a second thought to it, because no one should have an unnatural disadvantage. It’s bullshit. 

You get by without them, anyway. This is just a side hobby, it’s not like you’re saving up to buy anything. You could stop whenever you wanted to, but that just risks losing the monopoly you have on the business. You’re the only one that willingly sells the potions at a low price without complaining. And also, your potions aren’t fake. You’re a reliable source.

You’re met with the faces of a few of hufflepuff’s quidditch team. The one that’s standing closest to you is the one and only, Finnick Odair. Lately people have been saying that he’s going to be the huffelpuff seeker prodigy, and your house hasn’t had one of those in a long time.

“What can I do for you?” You ask, placing your quill in the ink bottle to hold it temporarily.

“Can we talk privately?” Finnick asks, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you in the hallway in just a moment.” You look between him and his friends, “Are we all talking…?”

“No, just me and you.” He smiles.

He walks off with the other two, you make a funny face at their backs. You’re not sure why all three of them approached you if he wanted to talk to you in private. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he needed moral support to talk to you. You can’t imagine you’re a hard person to approach, though.

You flip the notebook back open, taking the quill to write the note quickly. He cancelled because he needed the potion for a later date, and would prefer for it to be freshly produced. You write the new date next to the note, and then you leave the notebook open to dry while you put the rest of your things away.

You like to use lunch and after dinner as times to catch up on the potions. You refuse to do them in the morning because you’re too tired to operate. You tried a couple of times, and those were the times you set the bathroom on fire and exploded a hole through the stall doors. Your hair still hasn’t grown correctly since. 

You pack the rest of your bag, and then head out of the Great Hall to find Finnick Odair. You have a feeling that it’s going to be about the potions. The people who approach you to ask usually start with wanting to speak in private, because that’s what they’ve been instructed to do by your friends.

You pass by Finnick’s friends, and every single one of them has their eyes on you. You ignore them, leave the doors, and find that Finnick isn’t hiding too far away. You follow him into an empty hallway. 

He takes in a breath, “I heard that you sell potions.”

“Yup.” You stop a few feet away, “Who told you about me?”

“Annie. She said that you’d be able to help me.” He says.

Your eyebrows twitch, “What are you trying to fix?”

“Well, it hasn’t happened just yet. Hufflepuff could win the quidditch cup next game, and I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.” He runs a hand through his hair.

You know what he’s looking for. He wants Felix Felicis—liquid luck. It’ll ensure that everything he does in the game works in his favor so that they win. The only issue is that you don’t sell liquid luck to the quidditch players because it’s a sport aimed for talent, and it’s cheating. It’s the same reason why you didn’t take it before your tryout, it’s unfair.

You can feel your face fall, already beginning to shake your head to tell him no. He must’ve known this was coming, because he clasps his hands together.

“Please, (Y/n). I don’t want to lose this game.”

“And I understand that, but I don’t sell to quidditch players. It seems like Annie already told you I was going to say no, anyway. So why are you bothering?” You cross your arms.

“Because I thought you’d understand the pressure to succeed.” He says, “Everyone is expecting me to get the snitch, and there’s no way I stand a chance against slytherin. They crush hufflepuff every year.”

You almost want to tell him it’s a talent issue, but that’s a sure way to get on the bad side of Finnick. That’s the last thing you want, considering he’s fairly popular in the hufflepuff house, and a lot of people would turn on you for it. Although, you’ve gotten mouthy with plenty of other quidditch players before, and they’ve never turned around and gotten you in trouble.

“Did you tell the other quidditch players that you were planning to ask me this?” You ask.

“No, I told them that you were going to lend me notes for potions.” He says.

You reach into your bag, pulling out your placebo potions notebook, the one you use for class. The real one you have is filled with every detail on how to make a perfect potion. If Snape ever had that in his hands, and found out that you were studying like that, you’d get questioned for it.

You hold it out for him, “Here.”

“Please, I’ll do anything.” He says, taking your hand in his, “I’ll pay extra, if that’s what you want.”

“What I want is to not get in trouble because you’re reckless.” You raise your eyebrows, “So you’ll promise me that you will not breathe a word of this conversation to the professors. If they find out that I gave it to you, you’ll be banned from quidditch, and I’ll be in huge trouble.”

There’s a cute smile forming on his face, “I promise.”

“You’ll be paying triple the price because it’s last minute, and it’s against the rules.” You pull your hand away, “Felix Felicis takes six months to brew.”

“Thank you, (Y/n), I mean it.” He says.

“I’ll see you before the quidditch game on Saturday to give you the dosage so that you don’t kill yourself.” You give him a smile, “I want my notebook back after you win the game.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

—

You honestly thought that Finnick Odair had to be one of the most confident quidditch players you’d seen in your life. While everyone else hesitates when it comes to the snitch, he never does. He’s always on top of searching, even if there’s nothing to look for at the moment.

He might think that he doesn’t stand a chance against slytherin’s seeker, but he’s the reason why the hufflepuff team does. If it weren’t for him, they would’ve lost the last game that was played against gryffindor. The gryffindor’s had scored so many points against hufflepuff, and if they’d made another ball through the hoop, they could’ve won the game despite the fact that you guys caught the snitch.

There’s nothing scarier than being neck in neck with points. Gryffindor was behind by ten points, and right when they went to make another score, Finnick caught the snitch, letting you win by ten whole points. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a game that bad in a long time.

Besides, it’s not necessarily Finnick’s fault, it’s his teammates that are a bunch of dead weight. If they could block the hoops like they’re supposed to, then there wouldn’t be any close calls.

That’s why you’ve decided not to give him the potion. 

Finnick comes around the corner, and you immediately reach into your bag to grab the vial of pumpkin juice you dyed to look like Felix Felicis. You don’t think he’s seen a genuine bottle in his life, but you wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t call you out for it.

“Hey,” He breathes, shaking his hands to get the nerves out. They’re supposed to play any minute now.

“Hey.” You smile, carefully pouring a tablespoon’s worth of pumpkin juice. He takes it from you, making a face as he downs it. And just in case he’s done his research, you pour him one more spoonful.

“Doesn’t taste very good.” He murmurs.

“I could’ve told you that.” You laugh, “Got a breath mint?”

“No time, I’m going to be smelling on the field anyway.” He pulls out the galleons from his pocket, dropping them into your hand, triple the payment, just like you asked. When he wins the game tonight, you’ll give it back and tell him the truth. “When does it take effect?”

“You should feel it soon.” You shrug, “I’ve never taken it myself, but that’s what everyone else says. You should get back to the field.”

“Will you be watching?”

“Yeah, I’ll be sitting with Annie and them. I’m sure you’ll see us.” You nudge him to get walking, “We’ll be cheering you on. Good luck!”

“Thank you!” He waves, and then jogs off.

You drop the galleons into your back, cap the pumpkin juice, and then head for the stands, where you’ll be sitting for the next few hours. At the top of the staircase, you find your friends, who have chosen front row seats to ensure they’ll be able to see you.

As soon as you sit down, Annie is turning to you, “You better hope that he wins, he’ll be pissed if he finds out. I’ve been hearing the slytherins are planning to be aggressive today.”

“They’re always aggressive. And he doesn’t need luck.” You hold onto your bag tighter, “I believe in him.”

The game starts when Professor McGonagall throws the ball into the air. The balls and the quidditch players are nothing but a blur as they zip around. As promised by Annie, the slytherin’s aren’t even trying to hide the fact that they’re borderlining breaking the rules.

From the very moment the game starts, you’re on the edge of your seat. The quidditch commentator keeps everyone up to date with the score because the balls are flying back and forth. The scores are continuously going up, without a hint of slowing down. The hufflepuffs will be in a fifty point lead, and then the slytherins will pull moves you haven’t seen before, and then they’re in the lead.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so into a quidditch game before. All the other times you got bored halfway through and opted to go brew potions to catch up on orders. You guess it’s different now, because it’s personal. You just shorted Finnick Odair out of liquid luck, and if he loses, he’ll know it, too.

He’s already acting differently out there, he’s doing more than he usually would, and it’s helping his teammates keep consistent, while he searches for the snitch. Hufflepuff is currently at a seventy point lead, if they caught the snitch now, you’d win. However, neither team has even seen the snitch yet.

Hufflepuff scores another ten points, and you watch as a few of the slytherin players share a look, which is the sign they’ve given each other to step up their game. It seems as if Hufflepuff has caught onto it, though, because it’s a tough match. The bludgers are hit back and forth at players, nearly causing several concussions. And no matter how many times they throw the quaffle, it never makes it past the hoops.

This goes on for thirty minutes, everyone is getting increasingly frustrated, which means that the game needs to be ended before someone actually ends up getting hurt. You can see Finnick searching, and then his head suddenly darts to the left, and he takes off.

“Yes!” You cheer, getting to your feet to peer over the stands. This causes the whole crowd to follow you, realizing that Finnick could win the hufflepuffs the cup.

Finnick chases the snitch in between stands, around the hoops, under beams. He disappears several times, and comes back, still pursuing the snitch. The slytherin seeker has caught onto this, and he tries to keep up with Finnick’s pace, but Finnick’s always been persistent.

The slytherin seeker gets too close, Finnick slams his foot into the girls’ broom, sending her spiraling away into the tarp that covers the stands. While she tries to recover from this setback, Finnick has gained another inch on the snitch.

When suddenly, he reaches forward, and grabs it.

“Hufflepuff has secured the snitch!” The commentator roars over the microphone, “The game has ended! Hufflepuff wins with four hundred points, while slytherin loses with two-hundred and fifty!”

Everyone in your section erupts into noise, celebrating Hufflepuff’s win. There’s cheering, a few stray whistles, clapping and stomping to show pride. Finnick finds you in the crowd, and points at you.

You laugh, and then turn to Annie, shaking her shoulder, “I told you!”

“I’m sorry for doubting you.” She mutters.

“I’ll see you in a few, we should go get butterbeers.” You tell her, starting down the aisle, “You know, to celebrate.”

“Let’s meet at the fountain!” She shouts, you give her a thumbs up.

You’re one of the first people out of the stands, allowing you to get to the bottom much faster. You can be in there forever, taking it one step at a time because people like to fuck around on the staircase.

The quidditch players have already cleared the field, so you hurry to go and find Finnick before you lose your chance. You’re sure that they’re all going to go and hang out together to celebrate, and you won’t be able to speak to him alone until tomorrow. It isn’t that big of a deal, but you’re sure the guilt’s got to be kicking in at any minute.

A hand grabs your wrist, yanking you back. You turn to shout, expecting it to be an angry slytherin, but you’re met face to face with Finnick, who’s as pale as a sheet.

“I shouldn’t have taken that.” He mutters, you look behind you to make sure no one’s coming before pushing him behind a corner to talk to him. 

“Finnick—”

“What was I thinking? What if they find out?” He runs a hand through his hair. His breath still smells like pumpkin juice. And he wasn’t wrong when he said that he’d smell, he needs a shower.

“Listen to me—” You start.

“Why would you sell that to me?” He asks.

“Finnick!” You grab his arms, “It wasn’t Felix Felicis, I lied to you.”

He stares at you for a long second, blinks once, and then his eyebrows push inward, “What?”

“I gave you dyed pumpkin juice, I didn’t give you the real thing.” You tell him, reaching into your bag to pull out what he paid you. You take his hand and drop the galleons into his palm, “I’m not stupid enough to break the rules like that.”

He shakes his head, “You gave me pumpkin juice? What if I lost?”

You beam, “I knew you could do it without the luck, Finnick. You’re a talented seeker, you don’t need potions to win games. Did you see yourself out there? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you play better!”

Finnick laughs, “A placebo effect.”

“No, your true potential!” You smile, “I’m sorry for lying to you, but I couldn’t go through with it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Do you have any plans?”

“Yeah, Annie and I are going to go to the Three Broomsticks.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No, I wouldn’t.”

[artyandink]

Could I request a lockwood x fem reader where she gets really hurt during a solo mission and gets back home late where lockwood I waiting to give her a lecture but after realising, he helps her and they both end up kissing.

CAN'T STAY MAD AT YOU

I winced, shakily pressing my hand to my stomach, drawing it away and spotting lots of blood coating it. I'd barely escaped that Type 2 who was angry after a murder, and I'd only realised when I found a note that helped me piece two and two together.

Times like this I wished I brought someone along with me.

Finding purchase on the bedframe, I pulled myself up all at once to avoid too much pain, almost collapsing again due to the rippling lightning strikes flashing through my body.

I lumbered my way to a spare first aid kit, messily wrapping a bandage around my midsection, wondering how I was ever going to make it home.

"Need a hand, Leigh?" My best friend Artemis was at the door in her usual office clothes, gaping when she saw my state. "Bloody hell- I need to get you to Portland Row. For God's sake, were you doing a solo mission?" Helping me up, I used her as support as we hobbled towards her Rolls.

"I didn't want to trouble the others. We were all exhausted after wraith hunting and the pay was good-"

"Enough to risk your life?" She snapped, helping me into the car and telling her driver, Marco, to take us to Portland Row. "I admire your tenacity, Leighton, but this isn't the time to use it."

"I was misinformed."

"Still!" She retorted. "You're lucky I arrived on the scene in time. I happened to be in the area and the neighbours were yabbering on about a girl who'd caused a loud crash doing a ghost removal. I checked in and look what I found. I can't protect you from those three in that house, so you're on your own from the moment you walk through that door." She got me out of the car and up the front steps, and I leaned heavily against the rails on either side as I rung the doorbell, also noticing her drive off. It unlocked, so I turned the handle and hobbled in as subtly as I could, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that was riddling my thoughts. But they cleared when I saw who was waiting for me.

I'm done.

"Where have you been?!" Anthony Lockwood snapped. "Bed empty, no note, gear gone! You could've died, you could've- oh bloody hell!" I nearly collapsed, but he ran forward and caught me in time, perfectly catching my muffled cry. He saw the blood leaking through, slowly peeling off my shirt to witness the deep cut soaking the bandage that I'd used as a stand in.

"I... um... got hurt."

"Clearly, Leigh!"

"Artemis managed to find me, though. She brought me back here."

"She was God's gift, because you're losing blood. I may have to call DEPRAC." He pulled out his first aid kit, the rubbing alcohol and cloth ready. "This will hurt."

As soon as the stinging liquid touched my skin, I let out a painful groan, clenching my fists so hard I think I might've left permanent marks on my palms. It felt like fire, poison and pain but it felt like it was the universal treatment to anything. I just wanted it over and done with.

"What were you thinking- going on a solo mission this dangerous; you should know better! You scared the bloody life out of me!"

"I was also scared! Don't you think that in this life or death situation I was scared for my life?!" We stopped arguing, Lockwood's Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"I just... I don't want to lose you too." Sighing, I remembered the trauma he'd gone through by losing his parents as a child. I cupped his cheek, softly running my thumb across the smooth skin of his cheek, the dark circles gracing them even more pronounced in the dim lighting.

"You'll never lose me. I'm Leighton bloody Prescott. No way I'm leaving this world unless I'm bringing down a bad guy with me."

"I can't stay mad at you, Leigh." He grinned that gigawatt grin again, melting my heart and soul.

"Exactly. You love me."

"Too much so, I'm afraid." I blinked in surprise. Was this the love confession I'd been dreaming of?

"W-What?"

"I know this isn't a good time, but I love you, Leigh. I always have."

"This is the most perfect time, because I love you too, Anthony." I leaned in, kissing him softly and feeling the pain go away a little, until he deepened the kiss.

"Ow, gigantic cut "

"Oh, right, sorry."

[luxerians]

Hi!!

Just wanted to share my thoughts with you about The Last Mask...

Honestly, I absolutely appreciate how you've built everyone's relationship with Reader (Let's just call her our girl) and how she sees and loves everyone.

I LOVE HER RELATIONSHIP WITH GIHUN!! Like, it's SO PURE, yet so ANGSTYYY especially if he's in love with her but he doesn't realize it, yet. It absolutely killed me how he was yelling for her, imagining all the bad things Frontman can do to her (cuz he doesn't know it's Youngil), not wanting her to sacrifice herself. I love how he sees her as the first light he's seen in three years. Like, really I wouldn't mind if the sequel to this fic became a Gihun fic or if you wrote an alternative route where our girl chooses Gihun. Because she's super innocent and pure, she has a strong moral compass - stronger than Gihun himself, which is saying a lot because that's the man who didn't use the prize money because it's blood money - so I wouldn't find it out of place for her to choose Gihun. He's all gangsta and "I'm taking down the gamemakers!" until he lays eyes on her, he's all pookie.

AND HOW YOUNGIL LOVES HER!! That man is GREEDY for her! He'd manipulate his way into her heart and love every part of her. Baby's gonna be super hurt once she finds out who he is, though. I'm so torn, rn. Because Inho's protected her so many times, he'd tear apart anyone who touches her or so much as looks at her the wrong way - he already did multiple times. But idk, I'm afraid that he'd kill for her, but he wouldn't die for her, yk?

Youngil and Our Girl are just so Let The World Burn coded.

"I'd let the world burn

Let the world burn for you

This is how it always had to end

If I can't have you then no one can."

While Gihun and Our Girl are so Runaway, and The Night We Met coded.

"I was listening to the ocean

I saw a face in the sand

But when I picked it up

Then it vanished away from my hands....

But I kept running for a soft place to fall."

This is just his unrequited love for her (if he's in love with her, and I totally believe he is).

"I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you."

This is when he watched her be taken away from him.

I hope I didn't bother you with this. I'm just so mesmerised by the pure emotion you expressed with your words in that fic. I'm too hooked, really.

Have a nice day/night!

Hi there! First of all, I am delighted to see this long ask! My eyes went all heart-eyes seeing this!

Anyway, I knew a lot of readers assume Gi-hun develop feelings for the reader. To be honest, if the reader meets Gi-hun from Season 1, I'm sure they would be in sync with one another very, very well. S1 Gi-hun would love to be with her. One reader in Ao3 also asked to have me write a story of what it would be like if this reader enters the game with him in S1 because the two of them would hit it off. Super-kind and happy-go-lucky couple. Even this S2 Gi-hun actually sees her in a different light. In Chapter 15, you might not see much but the reader's disappearance (and also Young-il's death and the failed revolt, of course) really affected him.

Young-il and reader, on the other hand, is another beautiful thing. One is the moon, the other is the sun. Young-il is fiercely protective of her considering everything he went through. He wouldn't want to lose something precious a second time, not even to Gi-hun. Some readers noticed that tiny interaction when Young-il subtly brushed off Gi-hun's hand away from your shoulder in Mingle game, and I'm glad yall noticed it because I wrote it that way. I like to write subtle things and let readers find it because that's how I enjoy Harry Potter. Simple English writing and subtle hints in the early books but eventually it all came to a full circle in the later books. And yes, even if Young-il is no longer Young-il and he has gone back to his prime form, he still protects her... in a way. There is a reason why he let her play this hide and seek game.

Anyway, I love those songs you referred to both Gi-hun and reader, and also Young-il and reader. It matches well!

And please, by all accounts, BOTHER ME AGAIN with this long ask! Thank you so much for giving my story a chance and writing down this ask! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Snake Boi Callum Week - Day 3: High Mage/But Rayla Was In Trouble/Mirrors/Magic

(heads up, possible TW for pregnancy complications; I know they can hit close to home, and better safe than sorry!)

I'll Become the Monster, Like None They've Ever Known

Silence was not a good thing. Silence meant grasping for words, words to soften the blow. Or, worse, a kind lie.

“Well?” Rayla prompted, and Xan finally moved away from her stomach.

He straightened his glasses, slowly writing and checking off boxes on his clipboard he not-so-subtly held out of the couple’s view. “I…”

Out of nerves, Callum squeezed Rayla’s hand so hard that she hissed. Immediately loosening his grip, he murmured an apology before turning his attention to the doctor. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Your baby…” Xan began, and now he wouldn’t look at them, and that was not a good sign. “Well, they’re malpresented. That means the fetus isn’t correctly positioned. In this case, your child’s head is at the top of the womb, near the heart, rather than near the birth canal.”

“What does that mean?” Rayla asked nervously, glancing to Callum as he felt her heart rate speed up. “Can it be fixed?”

“Well, no,” Xan said. “There are chances of both the mother and child surviving the birth, but those are rare. The chances of one of you surviving rather than the other is about 50/50, given that most result in the death of both.”

Rayla leaned back against the chair, somehow paling even more as she let herself go limp onto Callum. He put an arm around her and rubbed slow circles into her back.

Xan wasn’t done. “However, your pregnancy is also ectopic.”

Callum sharply looked up at him as Rayla buried her face in his shoulder. “And what does that mean?”

“It means your child can’t be carried to term because it is growing outside of the uterus. To be frank with you, I’m shocked you haven’t come to me with concerns of, at the very least, extreme discomfort.”

Rayla… even all these years later, she still didn’t complain when she was mildly uncomfortable, or even in debilitating pain. She still never wanted to burden anyone, and now it could cost her her life.

He shot to his feet. “And why didn’t you tell us sooner?!”

“An ectopic pregnancy can be diagnosed anywhere from the first trimester to quite literally during labor. And malpresentation usually shows up at thirty-six weeks pregnant on average. We actually got quite lucky, finding it as early as we did.”

“You call this lucky?” Callum spat, pacing now as his voice came out strangled. “My wife and child are both going to die!”

“Well… not necessarily…”

Rayla tugged his hand, and he sat back down, tucking her further into him. “What are the survival odds?” he asked in a low voice. “For either of them?”

Xan took off his glasses and wiped them off with the hem of his shirt before repositioning them on his face. “Near zero for even one of them surviving. I think it’s safe to assume both Princess Rayla and your child will die if the birth continues as planned.”

Rayla threw her arms around his neck, her sobbing loud and clear despite being muffled by his shoulder. His shirt was quickly soaked, Callum pulling her into his side and rubbing her shoulder.

Still, he had to ask. “And if the birth doesn’t continue as planned?”

“Well, if we act now, one of them can be saved. We can perform a surgery to remove the child, and your wife’s chances of survival will skyrocket; I can near assure you she will live and be just fine in due time. Or, given how far healthcare has come due to the use of magic, we can force the birth and an Earthblood and Sunfire elf can heal the child and give them the nutrients and growth needed to simulate a normal pregnancy, an incubation if you will, to keep them healthy until labor would be induced in normal time. But Princess Rayla will not live.”

Callum let those words sink in. Rayla or their child, probably both, would die if a decision wasn’t made at this very moment. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a nightmare, a cold dread wrapping around him, like a cruel trick because the universe could never get enough of fucking around with his and Rayla’s lives. It’d been difficult enough to conceive, only able to do it at all because of magic, and now this? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Read more on AO3!

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[inactivewattpadauthor]

Mileena x Earthrealmer Reader

It hasn't been long since you been individually stationed in Outworld, and you've already been detected by someone or something.

Yes, it's partially your fault for being a lousy Special Forces soldier/spy, but you've been through a lot to even give a damn. It's not like you can't take care of yourself, but if you get captured by the enemy and killed, then that's just what happens.

You returned to your small camp in an oasis outside from Outworld civilization in hopes of nothing following you.

While you were sharpening your knife, you heard rustling leaves behind you that didn't follow up with the wind blowing through the area. You let out a sigh of annoyance, realizing you weren't alone.

"Come on out. I can hear you!" You called out without looking up from your knife.

"Filthy Earthrealmer! What are you doing in Outworld's lands?" A feral feminine voice hissed out from the bushes surrounding the camp.

'That sounds like...'

Recognizing the familiar voice you peered up to see the well-known, unnaturally created kombatant with such a personality...

Mileena.

It's much easier to identify her by her choice of color for her clothing, but you were just most likely a bit surprised to see her rather than anyone else who could've stalked you.

"Wow, I could have never seen this day coming. Did you follow me here?" You fully faced her, suppressing any type of hyped emotion you had.

"Don't ignore my question, you imbecile!" She said a bit more agitated, along with pulling out her sais, taking a step towards you.

"Apologies. I'm just... camping, ma'am." You quickly came up with.

"A pathetic lie won't work on me, Earthrealmer! You're lucky I'm not that hungry to feast on your flesh!"

"Well, are you still gonna kill me and maybe put my body in a refrigerator? If Outworld even has those." You asked, readying your knife in case she pounces.

"Gah! You should be trembling before me! Not asking such ridiculous questions!"

Your lack of fear for Mileena was making her mad, but truthfully, it's not just because you're not that frightened, but you read her file back at base. It would be a lie if you say you don't find her fascinating.

On a quick note, Mileena pulled down her mask to reveal one of her infamous features of herself; her monstrous teeth.  Sincerely a well-known factor or a Tarkatan.

"Scared now, human?" She chuckled in her usual seductive way.

Not to her liking, you didn't react to it. What made you unsteady was her piercing gaze of growing impatience.

"Look, it's not that I'm scared of you," you started off, realizing how offensive the beginning would sound to her,"BUT, I just personally find you thrilling in a... cool way." You rubbed the back of your neck.

Mileena was rather confused about your words. "Is this your way of trying to escape your fate? With false flattery?"

"I'm not lying. As much as it sucks that you eat my kind and I'm mostly next, I find you bad ass. It's not every day a feminine feral figure like you exists."

You weren't attentive towards how your words were subtly calming the former empress.

"Also, from what I heard, you're not really a monster. You lost someone you loved. Not trying to be touchy or reopen that wound before I die, but "

You frown at a feeling that took you a while to shove down.

"I know what that's like."

After a few quiet seconds, your heart sank from the seem to be awkward moment you caused.

'God, let her kill me already.'

"Stupid human, just go back where you came from." Mileena muttered, putting her mask back over her mouth before quickly disappearing back into the bushes.

You only stood there, still cringing from the awkwardness you caused. Is this how you escape the flesh eating empress?

---Time skip to evening, brought to you by me praying for Nightwolf and Fujin to be added in mk1---

It was about late evening, and you sat near your campfire, still processing what happened previously during the day.

'Did she feel bad for me? I don't get why she just left just like that.'

'Or maybe, again, she felt awkward too, and I killed her mood to kill me.'

"Ahem."

Your attention was immediately grabbed by whomever. You looked in their direction only to see it was Mileena again, staring down at you from the other side of the campfire.

"Oh, hi. Are you finally hungry?" You slipped a small smile.

"If I was, you'd be dead because of your lack of awareness just then." She sharply said. Her tone wasn't that aggressive like the first encounter.

"Right... So what is it you want from me then?"

"Why are you here?"

"All I can tell you is I'm Special Forces. The rest is classified information."

"I'll kill you if you don't tell me."

"Well, the general will kill me if I tell you. And I would rather die with honor." You huffed before staring at the bonfire.

There was silence again, but it wasn't like earlier.

Mileena walked around the fire and next to you.

Any weary person would move from her, concerned if she was gonna attack, but you didn't. Perhaps you were waiting for her to do it?

She didn't attack. She just sat down beside you as if a lonely person found their fellow lonely friend somewhere unfamiliar.

The moment would be described as... comforting?

"Why are you actually here?" You asked.

"Did you really mean those words from earlier about me?"

She looked right at you. Her eyes seem to have some sort of desperation in them. But you looked past that for the moment.

"I did. I'm sorry about that, though. I didn't mean to spill out like that. I wasn't trying to ruin your mood to kill me or whatever." You looked down in shame.

"If you're speaking the truth, don't be. I never met a soul that shares the same pain as I do."

"I see. I work with plenty of people who also lost loved ones. However, I still just feel alone about it no matter what. It's a terrible wound that permanently stings."

"You're a very unique human. What is your name?" Mileena asked. Elder Gods, how you didn't see this coming.

"I'm Y/n. And if you don't mind, I'm supposed to be here for a while." You smiled again at her.

"I don't mind, but the second you turn on me, I'll flay and wear you like cattle." Mileena warned.

"I'm not planning on it, don't worry." You laughed a bit.

You looked to your side at a duffel bag and reached for the candy bar you saved. You wouldn't be surprised if it was melted.

"Does Outworld happen to know about chocolate?" You asked while opening your snack.

"Does Outworld have chocolate?! Of course we do! What type of bizarre question is that?!" Mileena shouted in a annoyed, yet a bit humorous tone.

"Okay, okay, my bad! Here, try some from Earthrealm." You broke off a piece and handed it to her.

You awaited her reaction as she quickly consumed the piece within seconds.

"I'm not a sweet tooth person, but," Mileena paused for a second. Then she looked back at you.

"Outworld's chocolate is better than whatever you gave me."

Your eyebrows twitched as you looked at the candy brand.

'Hershey's'

"If you say so, almighty one."

Both of you spent some time chatting, unknowingly warming up to each other. You both were aware this could cause troubles on both sides, but you paid no mind to it.

It's been a while since you connected with someone like this, not trying to brush off friends from SF.

Soon, you rubbed your tired eyes, and Mileena noticed this. "You must be bold to sleep here without concern of something catching you."

"There's nowhere better." You yawned.

"Since I've taken a liking to you, I can offer you a safe, much more comfortable place to rest. However, you tell no-"

"If I told my team I casually spoke with the daughter of Shao Kahn like friends, I'm sure it would end very bad for me. I like you too. You don't have to worry about me getting you in trouble." You cut her off and explained.

"I'll stay here for just this one night. Tomorrow, I take you up on the kind deal. Mkay?" You stood and looked at her.

Mileena did the same, preparing to leave. "Fine then. If a Tarkatan finds you and eats you, it's totally your fault." She says with humor.

"It totally will be. But, goodnight, Mileena. Thanks for not killing me."

Mileena looked at you with a warming facial expression. "I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n." She purred before taking off swiftly again in the oasis.

As you put out the fire and laid to rest, a thought suddenly popped in your mind.

'Was she flirting with me on that last part?'

[wordsandrobots]

Today has not been the productive writing day I hoped for, mostly because I massively overstimulated myself gaming yesterday and the storm made it even harder to sleep.

This is especially galling as I'm about two paras short of finishing the thing I was trying to write. Ah well. I'll get it done this week, probably.

(I actually managed decent progress in the fiction department last week, sketching out a couple of important bits of dialogue for later in Akatsuki's Big Adventure and getting to the halfway mark of the next (short) chapter. I just hate the feeling my brain has turned to tapioca.)

(Oh, what the hell, I'm starting to get into the swing of the main characters' dynamic so here's a sneak peak, as a means of reminding myself that I can in fact do this.)

“Hi! Sorry to bother you.” Subtly as I can, I nudge Jaén, whispering, “Hat.”

She rolls her eyes but obligingly takes it off.

The receptionist blinks. “Oh. Aren't you…?”

“Yeah, I'm afraid we're in kind of a pickle.” Helpless and harmless is probably where I want to pitch this. “Miss Jayanaleen got into a small accident just now and we really need to treat her ankle right away. Do you have a first-aid kit we could maybe borrow? Sorry, it's pretty urgent. Can't have her missing the big fight tomorrow, you know?”

I wonder if he's a fan. He certainly brightens up fast. “Yes, of course! You should sit down – please, just over here. I'll be right back.”

“I don't know what's worst,” Jaén complains as we take a seat, “you blowing up my reputation by telling someone I have 'small accidents' or that you said it was 'a pickle'.”

“Well, it is. And everyone gets into accidents, and most people want to help out afterwards. It's human nature.”

“No, human nature just grated my leg on a wall. You're acting like…”

Unable to help myself, I lean my elbows on the table and grin. “Like what?”

“Like I don't know what but I'm beginning to think you can turn it on and off whenever you want.”

“It's the ancient and mysterious art of being nice to people. You've been playing the big bad meanie too long, you probably forgot how it works.”

“Meanie? Fuck, that's worse than pickle. How the hell did I get stuck baby-sitting a weirdo who goes to lap-dancing clubs for medical help and talks like…”

“You still can't work out how to end that sentence, can you?”

“You're real lucky you promised me decent food tonight, you know that?”

-------

[Note: the hat in question is a beanie at present but this may change on account of official Gundam developments. Again, I swear I wrote all of this before G-Quacks was announced.]

[This scene does in fact take place in the entrance room to a lap-dancing club. The receptionist is a very nice young man called Tomas who, while lacking in the shirt department, has provided me with an excellent way of arranging an upcoming scene that will spark everything going completely off the rails. Thank you, Tomas!]

[Akatsuki's current opinion of Jaén: you are very scary but fortunately I was raised to see the humanity in scary people and also to very effectively gauge how much shit I can get away with.

Jaén's current opinion on Akatsuki: stop making me laugh, I have a public image to uphold.]