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mommy-imagines · 3 years

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Pretty Boy - part. 3

Content: Mommy Kink. Sugar Mommy. MILF. Protectiveness. Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Insecure Atsumu. Age-play. Diapers. Breastfeeding.

Words: 3.705

A/n: This chapter is to introduce Atsumu to the idea of letting his walls down with Mommy and fully trusting her. There is no smut, but the next one will, for sure.

Atsumu kept his head lowered, pulled his hood over his head, low enough to cover part of his eyes, he was suddenly glad beyond words for Mommy having made him wear sunglasses; There were reporters and paparazzis surrounding the entrance of the place where they held their practices and even worse than the blinding flashes of the cameras were the yells from all sides. Atsumu felt himself freezing to the spot when they finally identified him and instantly he was surrounded. He felt trapped and he didn’t like it one bit.

He didn’t know what to do but then, as if materializing from thin air, Mommy was by his side, her hand firm on the small of his back and her security team forming a wall between them and the screaming reporters, “Ma’am, over here! How long have the two of you been together?” Atsumu cringed, all that he wanted at that moment was to be back home with Mommy, curled up on the large couch in the conservatory, the big windows letting the sun in, he liked the pretty flowers that were placed all around the room.

“Baby?” He heard Mommy’s voice directly on his ear and turned to look at her, he was wearing sunglasses but she just knew that his eyes were wide and frightened, “You’re going to keep your head down and follow me, okay?” She posed it as a question but it was a statement, really. Atsumu nodded and leaned back on her hand. Mommy looked at one of her security guards and then they were quickly walking across the sea of camera flashes and screaming people.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing that Mommy said as soon as they were safely inside. Her assistant, Alexa, was somehow also there and Mommy handed her her purse and her coat, reaching for Atsumu’s gym bag and handing it to Alexa as well. She largely ignored the other people present, eyes scanning over Atsumu, looking for any sign of him being hurt. Atsumu drew in a shaky breath, looked down and fuck but his hands were trembling; Mommy reached up to his face and took off his sunglasses, her expression turning stormy the moment she identified the look in his eyes as pure distress and panic, “Okay, baby,” She said, her voice pitched low enough only for them to hear it, “You’re okay, no one’s going to hurt you, no one’s even going to touch you; Do you want to go home? All you have to do is say the word and we’re going,” She assured him, right hand cupping his cheek, her forehead touching his own.

Atsumu swallowed around the lump on his throat and shook his head, “I’m okay,” He offered, even if his voice was rough, “I’m going to be okay.” He corrected himself at her disbelieving look.

She gave him one last assessing look before turning around, eyes sharp and furious, “Is anyone going to tell me just what the hell was that circus out there?” She demanded. The room turned silent, enough that it was possible to hear a pin drop, suddenly no one could meet her eyes. Mommy pressed her lips together. “Alexa?” She prompted and her PA was by her side in seconds, having transferred the previously handed objects to someone from the security team.

“It seems that the tabloids have received pictures from the two of you out around town last Friday, ma’am; We have been getting calls all morning asking for an exclusive interview.” She informed, and Mommy didn’t look all too happy.

“Alright,” She sighed, eyes roaming around the room filled with team’s executives and players alike, she turned back to Atsumu, “I suppose that you need to go to practice, I need to get to the office, if Alexa is right about this, my day is going to be hell; What time is practice over?”

Atsumu cleared his throat, still a bit shaken and very much uncomfortable having all eyes on him like that, when he was so vulnerable, “Four thirty.” He informed her, the unsaid Mommy, stay, please don’t leave me here alone! was heard loud and clear by the two of them, for Mommy’s eyes turned sorrowful suddenly.

“Okay, I’ll send a car, Richard is my second driver, he’ll be waiting for you; Also, Vladmir, Maxim!” She called two security guards that were standing near the door; Atsumu chanced a look at them and, sure enough, they were taller than him, packed with muscles that even dressed in suits were possible to see, Mommy kept looking at them, but her hand was rubbing small circles on his shoulder, Atsumu leaned into the comforting touch, “The two of you will stay here with him, don’t let any of those vultures out there near him, do you understand me?” Her voice was stern and authoritative and if it was any other moment than this one, Atsumu would get aroused just by hearing it. But, alas, he was still very much shaken from the shitstorm outside and very much self conscious being on the spotlight.

“Yes, ma’am; They won’t touch a hair on his head.” One of them answered, voice gruff.

“You better hope so,” Mommy responded and then she turned back to Atsumu, her eyes instantly becoming gentle again and her voice turning low so no one else would hear it, “Baby, Mommy needs to go, but if at any moment you feel uncomfortable and want to leave, or if anyone here says anything to you, you can call me, doesn’t matter the time, and I’ll come and get you, okay?” She assured him, her voice not louder than a whisper, but all that he could muster back was a nod, blinking fast enough so no tears would come, “Okay, I’ll see you later,”

And with that, Mommy was calling Alexa back to her side, her own security team, and was out of the door. Atsumu felt a moment of panic when he realized that not only was he alone and away from Mommy when all that he wanted was to be held, but on top of everything he didn’t have a clue as to where Alexa had dropped his gym bag. He turned to the side to go look for it, but one of his new guards handed it to him, “Here, sir;” He said, voice rough but respectful. It made Atsumu feel weird, being addressed like that and in front of people. This whole day just felt off.

“Thank you,” He said nonetheless, because the day might have taken a turn for the worst and he might be on the verge of a complete meltdown, but he was still Mommy’s good boy and Mommy always said that he had to remember his manners because he was a polite boy. Atsumu swallowed again, shouldered his bag and turned around, walking through the sea of people on the foyer, he didn’t lower his head but man, did he want to. He kept going until he reached the changing rooms.

Once he made sure that it was empty, Atsumu allowed himself to sink back against his locker, eyes falling closed and head banging against the metal. He took in a shuddering breath, brought up a hand to rub against his eyes firmly, determined not to cry in the middle of so many people who, clearly, already had more than enough reason to talk about him. Atsumu wanted to curse, just under his breath, a way to try and unwind, but then again, Mommy didn’t like it when he used bad words, said that that was no language for a good little boy to be throwing around. He was screwed.

“‘Tsumu?” He heard a tentative voice sounding from the changing room’s door and forced his eyes to blink open, he turned his head and was faced with Bokuto, Omi and Hinata, all looking at him with shock just barely concealed by their worry, “Are you alright? That shit was crazy outside, maybe you should sit down, man,” Bokuto said and Atsumu gave him a small smile.

“I’m doing good,” He offered, cleared his throat when his voice sounded much too rough to his own ears and didn’t miss the concerned looks that his friends traded, “But thank you; How are things out there?” He asked, motioning to the rest of the gym.

Omi’s eyes were watching him closely but Atsumu was grateful when he humored him with a small grin, “Executives are going crazy, mostly,” His rushed to add more when Atsumu’s eyes grew big hearing that, “Not in a bad way! No! They’re talking about how to turn the press around and how it is actually good press to the team;”

Atsumu nodded slowly, “In the end, they’re all just very much worried about making sure that your girlfriend doesn’t turn her rage to them, I think that I’ve heard something about doubling security. They're all terrified of her!" Hinata added and Atsumu shifted in place. He did not like to inconvenience people at all and now not only was Mommy having to go out of her way but also people he worked with!

He longed for Mommy and he wished that he could just call her and go home - But he knew that he had to stay for practice. They had important games coming soon, plus he didn’t want to give everyone else even more reason to talk about him behind his back, “I suppose that I should change, then;” Atsumu threw them a small smile, grabbed his uniform and went to do just that.

/*/

They were having a small break, just enough time so everyone could catch their breath and drink some water. He was sitting down on a bench, head between his hands, just resting, when he felt his phone vibrate beside him. He turned to reach it, the ID said Mommy 💖 and showed a picture of Mommy hugging him from behind, his face tucked against her neck and a big smile on her face. Bokuto was sitting directly to his side and Omi and Hinata were standing up in front of them, if any of them saw the phone’s screen, none of them said anything about it and Atsumu was grateful for it, especially because he caught the shocked looks they all suddenly tried to hide.

He grabbed his phone, answered the call and went to a corner of the court so no one would overhear his conversation, but he was acutely aware of his teammates staring curiously after him.

Mommy wanted to know how he was feeling, how was practice going, did anyone say anything to him or did he want to go home? Atsumu reassured her repeatedly that he was fine, as far as possible, and that no, no one had said anything to him, at least not to his face.

(He didn’t mention how he had walked by just in time to see a group of his coworkers going over the pictures from the tabloids from their day out shopping, calling him a sugar baby and saying that at least he made good eye candy.) (He didn’t mention that because he knew that if he did, Mommy would drive down immediately; Still, he knew that he needed to tell Mommy about it at some point, because it made him sad and made his eyes sting with unshed tears and one of Mommy’s rules was to never keep secrets from Mommy, especially when they made him sad.)

They said their goodbyes, Mommy told him to hang on just a little longer and then he could go home and she would meet him there and they could cuddle with Toulouse and he could nurse from Mommy.

Atsumu had to say goodbye quickly after that, because thinking about that made his brain feel fuzzy and he couldn’t afford that.

He joined the others and pretended not to notice when the conversations suddenly came to a halt.

/*/

When practice finally ended, Atsumu was the first one out of the court and into the showers, quickly washing himself clean from the sweat, gritting his teeth because he liked it best when Mommy was the one to wash him clean, always in the bathtub with the water the perfect temperature and smelling nice and with bubbles. He scrubbed his hair harder.

Atsumu was quick to pat himself dry and to pull on his clothes. Skinny jeans and a hoodie; Both were gifts from Mommy from the day that they went shopping, one of the bags with Armani printed on it on the many pictures splayed across the tabloids was the one that had been holding his current attire.

“‘Tsumu, wait a moment!” Bokuto called for him and Atsumu noticed that his teammates were just walking past him to enter the changing room while he was ready to bolt, “We just wanted to ask you man, if you’re happy,” Bokuto was looking at him with wide eyes painfully earnest. Atsumu looked to Hinata and to Omi and both of them had similar expressions. “We’re just asking because all day you have been on edge, it's all.”

“I am, I promise,” Atsumu smiled at them, it was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless, “I’m just still a bit shaken from this morning, was not expecting that crowd at all,” He forced himself to give a short laugh, “But yes, I’m happy, I really am.” He told them, prayed to god that his voice sounded as sincere as he felt.

They stared at him for a few seconds and then he was met with three matching grins, “Good! So if you’re happy, we’re happy too!” Hinata told him happily, coming forward to give him a hug, “Also man, I might be jealous of you, she’s just… wow!” He ended, nodding appreciatively, and Atsumu had to exercise some restraint because that was his Mommy! No one else was allowed to think about his Mommy like that! But Hinata didn’t know that and he was being a good friend, so Atsumu laughed softly and nodded at him.

“Does ‘Samu know?” Omi asked him and Atsumu looked down guiltily.

“I suppose that now he does know, but we were planning on inviting him over for dinner this weekend so we could tell him ourselves; Bit too late for that now, I suppose,” Atsumu confessed, mind working a mile a minute trying to figure it out his brother’s reaction. His phone had blown up earlier with texts from ‘Samu, but he didn’t have the nerve to look them over.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” Bokuto told him and was about to say something else when one of Atsumu’s new bodyguards (he couldn’t wrap his head around that concept) appeared by their side.

His hands were crossed firmly in front of him, his shoulders were squared, and he said something on his earpiece before turning forward and looking at Atsumu, “Sir, the driver is here and your car is ready, there is still a crowd upfront so we have worked with the team’s security crew and will be leaving by the back door. We have orders to work around the media so as to not let them get near you and then to take you straight home. Whenever you’re ready to leave, just let me know.” He informed him, voice professional.

Atsumu turned to his friends to say goodbye, all that he really wanted was for Mommy to cradle him close, maybe rock him a bit, but his friends were watching him with raised eyebrows and big grins, “I suppose that I could definitely get used to living like that,” Bokuto joked before coming forward and friendly slapping his shoulder, “Go on man, I bet that you must be drained from this hell of a day, if you need anything, just text me, alright?”

Atsumu nodded and looked at his friend, “Yeah, thanks man,” He smiled. He bid his friends goodbye and followed Maxim as he guided him through the building and out of the back door, straight inside one of Mommy’s town cars.

As Atsumu sinked into the leather seats, he felt his eyes closing. Not much longer now and then he could curl up in Mommy’s lap with his best friend and forget all about this damned day.

/*/

When he got home, Atsumu went straight to Mommy’s bedroom; Undressing quickly and immediately hiding completely under the soft covers. He felt exhausted and sooner rather than later, his cheeks were flushed pink and were wet with his tears.

He didn’t really know why it was that he was crying, it wasn’t like he had never been the center of attention before, but maybe it was the fact that he felt exposed and raw. So wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts that he was, that it took Mommy pulling him into her lap for him to notice that he was no longer alone, “Oh, baby;” Mommy cooed, rocking him slowly and smoothing his blonde hair back and away from his face, tsking when he gasped for air, “Baby, it’s okay, you’re okay, Mommy is right here and Mommy isn’t leaving,” She cooed at him for long moments, his large hands balling into tight fists where they were bunching up the fabric of her silk shirt.

Mommy continued to hold him close and to rock him slowly until he was all cried out, only then reaching for the bedside table for a baby wipe that Atsumu was not sure where it came from, cleaning his face from tears and wiping his nose, “Are you feeling better, baby?” She asked him, bright eyes looking down at him in worry.

“A bit,” Was his response, voice hoarse from crying, hand coming up to rub his eyes, “How was your day, Mommy?” He asked, voice small.

Mommy looked at him with a small frown, but indulged him nonetheless, “It was fine, as far as it could be; A lot of calls asking for interviews,” She rolled her eyes before sighing softly, “But we won’t be doing any of those, so there’s no need to worry over that.” She informed him and Atsumu felt a bit calmer with that piece of information, “Have you eaten anything?” She frowned heavily when he shook his head no, “I’ll ask the cook to make you something, nothing too heavy,”

“I’m not hungry, Mommy,” He told her, “Can we just cuddle and eat later?” He asked and she hated with a passion how small and unsure his voice sounded.

“Okay, baby,” She conceded, “But you’re eating dinner later on,” Mommy’s tone didn’t allow any objections and Atsumu just nodded; He studied her face when she bit her lower lip as if thinking, before bringing her hand to caress his warm face, “Baby, Mommy wants to try something a bit different tonight; You might not like it at first, but Mommy really thinks that it’ll help you relax, do you remember how you felt last Friday when you nursed from Mommy for the first time?”

Atsumu frowned a bit and Mommy smoothed it over with gentle fingers, “Felt fuzzy, weird but not a bad weird,” He responded, hands coming up to play with the pearls around her neck, hazel eyes studying it intently and Mommy smiled down at him.

“It’s called a little headspace, darling,” She said, hand continuing its motion on his cheek, “That is when you go into a headspace of an age younger than your biological one,” She told him, shushed him softly and held him a bit tighter when he hid his face on her neck, “There’s no need to feel embarrassed, baby; Mommy wanted you to feel like that, didn’t you feel safe? Like you could just relax and let Mommy take care of you?” She hummed once he nodded hesitantly against her neck, hand coming up to cup the back of his head, “Well, now Mommy wants to try something else that might make it easier for you to slip right back into that headspace. Mommy knows that you had a very stressful day, and I think that my little boy deserves to relax now,”

Atsumu swallowed thickly, arms wrapping around Mommy’s middle as he tried to burrow closer to her. He knew that he should feel weirded out, maybe fight this entire dynamic, but should he really? Mommy had done nothing but care for him all this time, she never let him down and she never allowed him to feel self-conscious. He felt Mommy’s fingers cupping his chin until his eyes were meeting hers, he knew that his cheeks were bright red, “Okay, Mommy,” He said, trusting her with yet another aspect of his life.

Mommy kissed his lips softly, gave him a bright smile, “Okay, baby, lay down on the bed, Mommy will be right back;” She said and Atsumu moved to do as told. His eyes watched her with rapt attention as she disappeared inside the walk-in closet and came back with a large bag. She offered him a kind smile as she showed him the first object and Atsumu felt himself go numb with embarrassment as he identified it as a changing mat. Mommy patted his hip softly and he raised his body just enough for her to place it underneath him, “You know, baby; Mommy thinks that maybe you should have your friend with you,” Her voice was tender as she handed him Toulouse and immediately Atsumu hid his face on the soft orange fur. He closed his eyes tightly and felt himself floating away, barely processing Mommy’s actions as she wiped him down, powdered his privates and taped the diaper around his hips.

It was only when Mommy was moving him again, cradling him close to her chest and guiding his mouth to her nipple that Atsumu allowed himself to assess the feeling of having the puffy garment wrapped around him. He felt oddly comfortable - safe, even. He closed his eyes again, brought his stuffie up so it was smushed between his chest and Mommy’s and allowed himself the solace of being in Mommy’s arms.

He fell asleep soon after and Mommy allowed him to break the rule of never skipping meals.

#mommy.writes #atsumu miya #sub atsumu #imagine #atsumu imagines #mommy kink #md/lb

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

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I love your song fics and you’re ability to draw the essence (?) of the song and put it into words.

BUT (you know I love giving you a challenge) could you draw the essence of 1989 or Reputation (the whole album!) and put it into a fic? Maybe put how the overall album makes you feel or something like that.

Ignore if it does not spark any inspiration, but Id love to see what you’d do!

@lyssarose Lyssa, love, your asks and prompts always make me so excited; you continue to fill my ask box with inspiration. I can't thank you enough. This is such an interesting idea! I love both reputation and 1989, and I ultimately decided to go with reputation for this challenge, since I think the storytelling on that album as a whole is more cohesive than on 1989. Also, reputation as an album really reminds me of Draco, and by extension Drarry.

This was a challenge, but I think I've managed to do it? I've already done a song from reputation for the Drarry/Taylor series, "Call It What You Want," and while I do think this will be similar I'm hopeful it'll be different enough.

If anyone's wondering, I've drawn inspiration from "I Did Something Bad," "Delicate" and "King of My Heart" because I think these three songs in particular really encapsulate the essence/themes of the album.

Rated M for language/reference to smut

So, before we begin, there's only one thing left to say:

1, 2, 3, Let's go bitch!!

Satisfaction twisted in Draco's chest, hot and sharp; he looked at the man who used to be Father but who would now and forever be Lucius. The man's hair was thinning and becoming more silver than blond. Draco rubbed a hand over his own clean-shaven face, relishing the jealousy the flared in Lucius's eyes. Father had always liked his face free of stubble.

Apparently, there wasn't any shaving cream in Azkaban; or razors, for that matter.

Lucius winced. Draco smirked.

He checked his watch and resisted the urge to tap his foot against the leg of the stool upon which he was perched. He'd been sitting in front of the cell for seven minutes, and neither of them had said a word. And while Draco loved a silent game of chicken as much as the next proud Slytherin, he also had no desire to spend his free time staring at the man he would've been if it wasn't for Harry.

Harry, who was waiting for him at home. Harry, who loved hearing Draco's stories of petty revenge against Lucius; delighted in them, in fact.

Draco stood smoothly from the stool and regarded the other man, enjoying for the second time that afternoon his new height advantage over Lucius. He looked down his aristocratic nose and twisted his face into a perfect imitation of his arrogant sneer from boyhood. Harry would be proud.

"Well, Lucius, as riveting as it's been to catch up, I'm afraid I must depart. My boyfriend awaits."

Lucius's voice was rough from lack of use. "Boyfriend?" He spat, his tone impressively derisive for a man with no reason for pride. "No son of mine is bent."

Draco laughed humorlessly. "I ceased being your son the moment you forced me to join Voldemort." He chuckled again when Lucius flinched. "I suppose I should be more aware of my company. Harry's gotten me in that habit."

Lucius's eyes widened comically, and Draco smirked again.

"Oh, did I not mention my partner's name? How silly of me. I suppose I could bring him here to introduce you--oh, wait. I believe you've met. Surely you remember Harry Potter? A boy in my year? You tried to kill him several times?"

"So did you, as I recall. Or is your memory that selective?"

Draco smirked. "Harry was closer to killing me than I did him. And besides, I've found that sucking cock is a fantastic way to apologize. He and I have a lot of regrets, so we've got plenty of practice,"

Lucius choked, bracing himself on the cell wall.

Draco let out an affected sigh. "Well, I'd better be off. I'm running late to meet Harry. I suppose I'll have to find some way to make it up to him..." He winked at Lucius and walked away, moving through the hallway and past the guards to the exit.

Once on the street, he leaned up against a nearby wall and cast a privacy charm. He took out his mobile, listening to it ring against his ear.

"Hello?" Harry's cheerful voice, even through the phone, was comforting.

"Hey," Draco didn't bother to hide the emotions that formed a lump in his throat.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" It was difficult to stifle the amusement and affection that fluttered in Draco's chest at Harry's immediate concern. "Did he hurt you?"

Draco closed his eyes. "No, he didn't--he couldn't. It was so gratifying and even fun to flaunt my happiness in front of him, but at the same time he's..." Draco swallowed. "He's still my..." He resented the tears the welled up in his eyes, and the way his voice cracked.

"Draco, it's okay. That's normal. It's okay to love and hate him."

"I don't want to! The only people in my life I want to love are Mother, Pansy, Blaise, and you, and he doesn't deserve it!"

"Love, breathe, " Harry's voice was steady, patient. "Come home, alright? I have spaghetti carbonara nearly finished for you. Let's talk about it in person so I can hold you, okay?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to--you shouldn't have to comfort me about this, about him. You, of all people, Merlin, I--"

"Hey! Hey, Draco, I want to. We're a team, babe. Let me be there for you."

Draco let out a shaky breath. "Okay, I'll be there soon. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Draco hung up and canceled the spell. He walked quickly to the Apparition point. While grief still ached in his chest, he still felt the warmth of hope and relief spread throughout his body. He picked up the pace, not wanting to waste another second away from Harry when he pictured a night of pasta, cuddling, and slow, wine-scented kisses on the couch.

He felt the beginning of a smile curve his lips.

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #prompt fill #prompt ask #drarry prompt #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #harry potter x taylor swift #reputation #lucius malfoy #fuck lucius malfoy #prompt reponse #drarry squad

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midnightsconspiracy · 3 years

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Out Of The Blue

Out of the Blue - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: After experiencing a hard day at work, your boyfriend decides to treat you to some of your favourite things. Although he may or may not have another surprise in store for you

Warnings: Non-Major Character Death

Word Count: 1683

Requested: Yes!

'What about one in which one of them had a horrible day at work and the other found out and decided to prepare a little surprise to make the day better? Just fluffy thing?'

A/N: Keep sending in your requests whilst my inbox is open and drop me a message if you're bored, id love to talk to some of you about Chicago PD, Med or Fire!! :)

Masterlist

Working at Chicago Med was stressful, to say the least. Every day was filled with what felt like hundreds of patients, running around to make sure you were taking care of them to the best of your ability. For the most part being an ED doctor with fulfilling, seeing people come in sick and come out good as new. But other times it was draining, either from being swept off your feet every minute of the day or doing all that you could for a person and it still not being enough. That was what had happened today.

You were content as you entered the ED that morning, having spent the night at your boyfriend’s. Everything about your relationship was absolutely perfect, with everyone around you noticing your positive change of mood since getting together with Hank. Walking towards the nurse's station to log into a computer, Maggie and April came over to greet you, both commenting on the large grin that plastered your face.

“Someones happy,” April teased, watching your cheeks glow, as you looked down in mock embarrassment.

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the Sergeant boyfriend of yours could it?” Maggie lowered her head as well, trying to catch your eyes to find the truth within them. Opening your mouth to reply, you were interrupted by an incoming patient being wheeled on a gurney, the paramedics beside it holding a grim look on their faces.

The patient turned out to be a six-year old girl, she had suffered severe trauma to multiple areas of her body, including broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a mild concussion. You immediately took the case, being the only ED doctor available at the moment, but also specialising in paediatrics alongside Dr Manning. Looking the girl over, you noted each of her injures, seeing it was consistent with a severe car accident, and proceeding to insert a needle into her lung to allow it to re-inflate, before sending her upstairs to the OR for surgery. To an adult, the injuries wouldn’t have been fatal, but for a girl this size, the extent of the trauma didn’t bode well for her chances of survival. Praying for her as she was wheeled up to surgery, you felt a tear come to your eye, hoping that this little girl would actually be able to live her life to the fullest. An hour had passed and you still hadn’t heard any news on the little girl, so instead of dwelling on it, you busied your mind, taking any patients Maggie would give you, from a broken leg to a baby with a fever. But finally, as you were leaving a low-level emergency case, your pager buzzed, signalling you to the PICU, nodding to Maggie on the way up, knowing it would be the girl who had just come out of surgery. Speaking to her surgeon, you waited for her anaesthetic to wear off, knowing it wouldn’t be too long because of the low dosage she was given. It seemed as though she had no family with her, either injured or dead from the car wreck and so you sat by her bed, not wanting her to be alone when she finally woke up.

As she woke, you held her hand, introducing yourself, trying to make her as comfortable as you could. You spoke to her for a long time, completely forgetting about your other duties downstairs, instead, trying to make her laugh, telling stories and attempting to get her to recall the events that had happened earlier that day. Building trust was important to you, knowing she would need someone who she was happy with before all the other doctors and DCFS got involved. But time got cut short as your pager once again demanded you downstairs to deal with another patient. Quickly saying goodbye, you dashed downstairs to deal a man with a GSW to the abdomen. Checking his wound thoroughly, you tended to it before sending him to specialists upstairs. Content with the job you had done, you continued with your work in the ED.

After your shift had finished, you headed upstairs to say a final goodnight to the girl, bringing a small teddy with you that you had purchased in the gift shop, hoping it would keep her company overnight before you returned the next day. But as you walked towards her room something didn’t seem right. The lights were turned off, the bed empty. Maybe she had just been moved to a different room or ward, you thought to yourself, knowing there was probably a good explanation for this. Turning towards the nurse on duty behind the desk, you questioned her on the whereabouts of your new friend.

“Didn’t you hear? She coded and was pronounced dead an hour ago. Sorry Doctor Y/LN, I thought someone would have told you already.” Staring at the women, your mouth dropped open, stumbling backwards a bit to brace yourself on the doorway behind. Tears fell from your eyes, why would the universe allow an innocent young child to be taken so earlier in their life? Moving back downstairs you felt numb, just wanting this tragic day to be over. You texted Hank telling him you were on your way back and that you had the most horrible day, not going into any details on how or why.

Unbeknownst to you, Hank was already preparing your favourite meals, as he knew you were already getting increasingly stressed at work when your text came in. He felt bad for you, knowing the type of tragedies you saw daily, experiencing similar in his line of work, completely aware of the repercussions people felt being surrounded by death constantly. On top of making dinner for you, your text had prompted him to drove to the store in order to go above and beyond to try and boost your mood, buying things he knew would make your day better. Returning home he had about ten minutes before you would be back to try and set everything up, rushing about the house making sure every individual detail was perfect for your return. The table was prepared beautifully, accessorised with fancy silverware and candles, that were flickering slowly, ready and waiting to provide you with a romantic dinner. He had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, already placed in a vase of water so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fuss of it on your arrival, and rose petals scattered along the floor in the direction of the table to add an extra romantic touch. Finally, he had one more surprise for you, hidden away in his back pocket, one that was guaranteed to make you smile.

Pulling into the driveway you exited your car, noting the darkness within the house, uncommon for this time of night and the fact that Hank had said he would be in all evening. Opening the door you called out to him, hoping that he hadn’t been pulled into another case, spending the night in his office once again. But as you took off your coat to place it on the hook you noticed the flowers on the table, to be specific your favourite flowers. You called out to him again, hoping he would appear to explain what was happening. Looking up, he stood in the doorway, a slight smile on his face, as you finally looked round properly noticing the rose petals, candles and your favourite food on the table.

“You did this all for me?” You asked.

“Of course I did sweetheart, I know you’ve had it hard at work recently so I wanted to surprised you with some of your favourite things.” To most peoples surprise, Hank was a true romantic at heart despite the cold exterior he held, just wanting to pamper you and treat you like the queen you were. Whether that be buying you your favourite sweets or complimenting you whenever possible, he did everything in his power to make sure you were happy.

Leading you towards the dinner table, you both sat down, quickly making conversation about everything, except work, that being an unspoken rule between you. Conversation flowed easily, both of you just happy to be in the presence of each other once more. Dinner had been polished off, with Hank fetching the dessert from the fridge after as you uttered the millionth ‘thank you’ to him. You both tucked in, moaning at the flavour that tasted like heaven after the day you had had. Looking up you noticed your boyfriend's demeanour had changed, no longer joyful but instead nervous, staring at his hands in his lap.

“What’s wrong Hank?” You asked, worried you had done something to set off this mood change. Instead of replying he lifted his hands from his lap onto the table along with a velvet box, slowly opening it to reveal a ring.

“Y/N, I know we haven’t been together that long and we haven’t discussed this that much but I’m getting old, and whilst I was thinking about that, I realised you really are it for. I can't even imagine myself with someone else or not spending the rest of my days with you. So Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” Tears pricked your eyes, never in a million years would you have expected this, but instead of being angry about it, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more.

“Only if you do it properly and get down on one knee,” you countered, watching as he got off his chair and onto one knee.

“So will you?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed throwing yourself into his arms.

As the evening winded down, you laid in Hank's arms on your shared bed thinking about everything life had given you. You couldn’t have met anyone as perfect as the man beside you. The man you would spend the rest of your life with, bear children with and grow old with. So as you drifted off to sleep, you pictured the little girl, hoping she was in heaven looking down on your life and smiling

#hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me

📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.

kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊

ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties

Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.

She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.

And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.

He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.

Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.

“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”

Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.

He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”

The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”

A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”

Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.

“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”

Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”

She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.

“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”

The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”

“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.

“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”

He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.

It grows from there.

It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.

Lovingly, of course.

Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time

Carlos, 16.22: ?

In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.

Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason

Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.

Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.

Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.

Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her

Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually

Carlos, 19.13: Nancy

Nancy, 19.13: carlos

Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face

Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?

Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes

Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me

Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑

(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)

(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)

Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.

“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”

TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”

TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.

“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”

That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.

“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”

“Shut up.”

In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.

They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.

Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #marjan marwani #tk strand #tarlos #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #📍 anon

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

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Willow’s 800 Followers Event

before you order: hello!! words cannot even begin to describe how thankful i am for 800 of you! that is truly amazing and you all have a very special place in my heart! thank you for allowing me to be creative and share my writing, it means more than you know.

so for this event, you all will be doing the writing! you’ll be creating your perfect boba drink with as many (or as little) ingredients as you’d like! let’s check out the menu, shall we?

pick your base (fandom)

1.) milk tea

•this is a Haikyuu fic ! write about your favorite volleyball players !

2.) fruit tea

•this is a My Hero Academia fic ! write about your favorite students, teachers, pro heroes, or villains !

pick your flavor (prompt)

1.) strawberry

• keep things classic and write about a first date ! include something about the outdoors or nature. maybe you’re visiting a farmers market, going strawberry picking, or a sunset hike !

2.) mango

• a perfect tropical destination ! write about visiting the beach or a vacation with your chosen character ! make sure to pack some sunglasses !

3.) passion fruit

• be passionate ! write about a confession ! whether it’s a love confession at just the right time or one that changes everything...

4.) coconut

• just like the coconut shreds, shred our hearts with a breakup story ! it can start sweet and hit us with that tough flavor unexpectedly! or one that you know won’t have a happy ending

5.) green tea

• not feeling any of the flavors above? no worries ! write whatever you’d like ! be creative ! this unique flavor will be perfect for your unique writing !

6.) honeydew (can be paired with one of the flavors above)

•pick whatever AU you’d like ! high school AU, college AU, coffee shop AU, fantasy AU, you name it !

pick your boba (pairing)

1.) classic tapioca pearls

•this will be a character x reader fic ! you may choose any kind of reader you’d like (fem! , masc!, gender neutral!) it’s up to you !

2.) popping boba

•this will be an character x oc fic ! use one of your very own characters and create a story for them with a character of your chosen fandom !

3.) fruit jellies

•this will be a self ship fic ! now is your chance to write whatever self-indulgent work you’d like ! make your dreams come true !

*all pairings must be LEGAL

pick your size (genre)

1.) small

•fluff, fluff, fluff! keep us smiling from ear to ear with some tooth-rotting fluff !

2.) medium

•angst and nothing but angst! break our hearts into a million pieces. please, it would be an honor

3.) large

•your fic has room for everything ? no problem ! pick a variety of genres to make your drink so good that you can’t put it down !

now that you’ve created the perfect boba, you’ll need to check out!

before checking out:

•this event is SFW. many of my followers are minors so when i try (reblog) your drinks (fics), i dont want them to come across any NSFW content. however, suggestive themes are allowed (but you should know where to draw the line)

•please do not use these ingredients to create dark content for this event

•please give a description of your drink. that must include your ingredients from above (genre, prompt, fandom, pairing, etc.)

•please state any allergens that your drink could contain. you must include a ratings/warnings section on your fic

•general guidelines still apply (same with off limit characters) check them here

•make sure to grab two straws ! (please tag me @/oikawaplssteponme so i don’t miss them)

•also ask for a receipt ! (tag your delicious creations under the tag #willow’s boba shop.🌸)

•i will be making a signature menu of all your drinks ! (i will make a rec list of all your fics. if you would prefer to not be on that list, just let me know !)

check out:

•this event will last from April 3rd to April 30th

•there is no word count minimum or maximum :)) but if your fics are longer than 500 words, please add the :readmore: tab

•know someone who might like some boba as well? wonderful! anyone and everyone is welcome to stop by the shop and create something magical !

•please let me know if you are planning to participate either with a reblog+a comment or send an ask :))

•never tried boba before? no worries! this event is a perfect opportunity to try out writing. you don’t have to be amazing at writing, as long as you enjoy it and have an idea or two, it’s worth trying! you might even like it :))

•couldn’t decide between a milk tea and a fruit tea? or you wanted to try one of everything? go right ahead! feel free to make multiple drinks :)) do what makes you happy !!

final thoughts before leaving the shop:

•once again, thank you so so much for 800, it’s truly mind blowing

•im really excited for this event so please please participate! id hate for this to flop :((

•i can’t wait to try all your wonderful drinks <3 ! love you all and thank you again !

Once again, this event will last from April 3rd to April 30th

#willow.🌸#willow’s boba shop.🌸#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #my hero academia #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #mha #bnha

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nutty1005 · 4 years

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The Gamer Monster Xiao Zhan – It’s not that I am afraid of losing, I just want to win.

Original Article: https://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404484936814952856#_0 Original Author: 小胖子 (Published by: 爱战DAYTOY_1005)

(TN: This is more related to physical games as opposed to video games.)

The highlights of Xiao Zhan in games…

From hopscotch of our childhood, to table top games, to even ice breaker games in working life, games can be considered as a common activity in our lives. Where do all the fun in games come from? A part of it comes from the interaction among friends, and a big part of it comes from competition and the joy of victory. In order to obtain victory in games, you need to find the shortest path to the goal, and that is like problem solving – you need analysis and understanding to find the crux, and you need effective techniques to solve it. Different games have different requirements – some need you to have swift reactions, some need strategies, some would need logical thinking, some needs endurance and patience, some require teamwork, some require physical strength…

When we speak of “Gamer Monster”, I feel that this person would at least be outstanding in most of the above mentioned requirements, so when I saw some comments that Xiao Zhan is a “Gamer Monster”, my first thought was to ask – what qualities does Xiao Zhan have to be called a “Gamer Monster”? After doing some research into his history, I appeared to have found my answer.

Top 2 Moments of Gamer Xiao Zhan

When we speak of the top moments in Xiao Zhan’s game history, we would have to praise the two “45° Inclined Soda” and “Who’s on the Shiatsu Pad”. After watching these two, all I have to say is – intelligence is a good thing.

45° Inclined Soda

Game Mission: To drink the soda in the can down to a specific amount such that the can is able to stand inclined at 45° on the table, as shown in the image below, balanced on a corner:

Xiao Zhan was the first of the eight to complete the mission – what seemed like random chance was actually calculated.

At the end of the game, Xiao Zhan spoke about the secret to this game – “It’s just the principle of equilateral triangle, so you have to drink until the bottom becomes an equilateral triangle, then the corner will be stable.”

In fact, this is a very simple theory, we just need to ensure that the center of gravity of the can is above the corner, and we will be able to ensure the can’s stability; when this happens, we would have an equilateral triangle. For Xiao Zhan, as an art student, to quickly react to with this physics and math theory, we should be quite glad to know that we do not really forget what we learn in school after all.

Who’s on the Shiatsu Pad?

Game Mission: One of the five members of Group A is standing on the shiatsu pad, only their upper bodies are visible. Group B will need to guess who is standing on the shiatsu pad by giving them specific instructions to complete.

From the first look of this mission, most of us would probably have the same idea – let the 5 of them jump on the spot, the one who is jumping on the shiatsu pad is probably in pain. But after understanding Xiao Zhan’s strategy, you might feel that your idea might be a bit too flimsy, after all, people can be acting.

So, what did Xiao Zhan do?

First, he let each of them hop past each position. (It seemed logical, since someone’s expression is bound to slip.)

But! At the end, Xiao Zhan said that he was not looking at the expression of the person jumping, but at the expressions of those at the side – when the person jumps on the location of the shiatsu pad, the surrounding 4 persons would unintentionally look at position, and he used that location to determine the person who was standing on it.

Shocking! We did not know that you’re Mr. Xiao-Calculated-Psychiatrist-Zhan!

Full Marks on Skills, Full Marks on Attitude Sporting:

What is idol image? I don’t know

There are those with idol-worthy looks, but tosses his image away like trash.

There is this game that both guys are tied together with a long rubber robe and they would need to bring items from the basket to their respective tables. Xiao Zhan, in order to increase friction with the ground, took off his shoes and socks, totally ignoring his idol image.

In addition, there is this game where they were to put on pants without hands, and all kinds of weird positions were used.

The only thing we can see in all his expression and his casually tossed away image is – I! Want! To! Win!

Memory Power: I am a lines robot with emotion

When it comes to games that require memory power, Xiao Zhan’s teammates would unanimously nominate him to participate. In the lines memorization game, both teams were to reenact classic scenes from Chinese Drama, and the team with the most number of correct lines would win.

The first scene is a classic scene from “Romance in the Rain” (TN: This scene is already a meme in China.):

(TN: This is the meme edit, where Wang Xueqin would be relentlessly pounding on a door and yelling at the people behind the door.)

Xiao Zhan was acting as … the door, but he is not an ordinary door – he is not only a talking door, he can also remind his teammates of his lines. It’s a door with lines prompting and lines correction.

The second scene is a classic scene from “My Fair Princess”, a conversation between Meng Dan and Han Xiang.

This part was slightly longer, Xiao Zhan not only had to memorize the lines for two persons, he also acted as both roles, and in the end he won the victory for the team, unlocking the title “The Lines King”.

Self Control: A real man will not smile if he does not want to

From many of Xiao Zhan’s interviews we could see that he has a lot of self control – he spoke of dieting and his strict self discipline in his work and daily life. We can see this once again in his performance in the game.

This game required the other participants to try to make him smile/laugh, whereas he will need to control his emotions and not smile/laugh. Xiao Zhan was the only one in the entire session to not only maintain his emotions, he was actually attempting to cry, and in the end he made the other participants laugh instead.

Reflexes: As fast as a rabbit

This is a game where the participants were assigned values, such as 1 dollar or 50 cents. When the game master calls for a specific amount (e.g. 2 dollars), the participants will need to quickly gather together to form the called amount. If you are not part of any group, you would be eliminated. This game required fast reflexes, and Xiao Zhan displayed his quick reflexes by ending the game before anyone else has realized.

In the trash segregation segment for his “Happy Camp” episode, Xiao Zhan not only reacted fast, he also used his actions to prove that “if you change your answers fast enough, you can’t be wrong”.

Using his own advantage: With my looks, I can be whimsical

In the challenge “send a Weibo post without using hands”, Xiao Zhan chose to use his nose, and only spent 52 seconds to sent a 9 worded (TN: Chinese words) Weibo post, winning the challenge.

In the background and in the comments were full of “Zhan Zhan’s nose is so good looking!” You can say that he does whatever he wants with his looks.

Serious challenger: Let’s play well together, shall we?

During team games, we can observe that Xiao Zhan would always be patiently explaining his ideas to his teammates, and suggesting on how to cooperate in order to meet the goal more effectively.

Not only he does this to his teammates, he is also very serious and respectful to his opponents. In this game, where both of them were to cross a log bridge in a sack, and if you were to fall, you would have to start from the beginning. In the whole process, as long as the opponent fell off, he would push Xiao Zhan off the bridge, so that both of them would have to restart together. Despite all these, Xiao Zhan did not get angry, but instead after noticing his opponent’s frustrations, he calmly said “Let me teach how to play this game, let’s play this round well shall we?”

In this, we not only see his serious attitude for fair play, we also see his good nature and good upbringing.

After reviewing so many of his exciting moments, do you want to play a game with Xiao Zhan?

Easter Eggs!

Try to guess what Xiao Zhan is gesturing! (Answers at the end.)

1. Guess an item used during Chinese New Year

2. Guess a plant/flower

3. Guess something that flies

4. Guess an activity that the elderly like to gather and do

5. Guess a cartoon character

Answers:

Firecracker

Sunflower

Rocket / Space Shuttle

Square Dance

Teletubbies

Follow 爱战DAYTOY on WeChat for more articles.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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athenaquinn · 4 years

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Strong Hand || Frank & Athena

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Soul on the Rocks PARTIES: @frankmulloy and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: A fae and a hunter walk into a bar... and then there’s Hughie.

Frank heard the reactions, born from her entrance alone, before he even saw her. Now that he looked up it was clear from his usual view from the bar that within the dim-lit picture that spanned out in front of him, something did not belong. A head of long yellow hair, to be specific. One, she was young. Two, she looked much too clean, too put together, to properly belong in the typical crowd that Soul attracted. Of course, that wasn’t to say that they didn’t take a liking to her. Frank watched as quiet fascination graduated to bold introductions; offers to buy her a drink, or bum her a smoke. Creepy-Joe remained stationary in his usual corner, watching but doing little else otherwise. Nothing offensive enough to warrant intervention so Frank returned his attention to the tasks at hand, cleaning and filling drink orders, all while keeping his attention outward for anything unseemly--or at least, by Soul’s standards. He didn’t notice how long time had passed or how long the girl had been sitting at the bar before she had flagged his attention. She was close enough for him to get a good look at her now and his suspicions were confirmed: much too young. Frank threw his towel over his shoulder, the usual distance of 6 feet maintained, “you got an ID for that order?”

She wasn’t stupid. Athena knew full-well that Soul on the Rocks was not her crowd. She’d lived in town all her life - which was certainly long enough and knew that of all the places to sneak into, that was usually the last on her list. The Bullet was where she preferred, and even though many of the people there had known her since she was a child they were alright with turning a blind eye and letting her order a proper drink. Sometimes, at least. However, she also knew that she was stubborn and that meant taking her fake ID and borrowing a leather jacket from one of the girls in her sorority and driving over to the bar. Part of her regretted the decision the second she opened the door and she felt all eyes on her - and though she loved attention, this was not exactly in the way that she typically preferred. Especially since most people in the bar were well-over the age of twenty-one and even over twenty-five or six. However, Athena was not one to back down from any challenge and so she tossed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at the offers to drink or smoke. “You know smoking kills you, right?” She bit back at one man. Before she could register his response, she felt her body tense up. Fae. There was a fae here and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly who the fae was just yet because there were far too many people backed into the bar. Taking in a deep breath, she made her way over to the counter. There was only one man behind the bar and she felt her skin crawl. Which meant he had to be the fae. Or at the very least she was in closer proximity to whoever the fae was. She pressed her palms against her thighs for a moment, grounding herself before she responded. “I do.” She flashed him a smile. Athena found that she regretted choosing a thin layer of lipgloss over the darker lipstick that Julia had offered her. She knew that she looked young, but usually a little flirting with a bartender made them forget that. Not yet willing to hand over her ID, she twirled her hair around her fingertips and leaned onto the countertop. Her skin was crawling, but she wasn’t going to give in. She was stronger than that. “I am admittedly newly twenty-one. Well, newly as in a few months ago.” She could feel the eyes of some of the other patrons on her. “Do you really need to see my ID? What’s the harm in a little trust?”

Frank recognised the lip-glossed smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes but if you tried hard enough you might be able to convince yourself that it did, artful twirling of her finger around her hair, the honey sweet tone that coated every word that came out of her mouth. Jake would have melted. Perhaps Frank would have too had he been younger, known less about what he was, what he could do. Before he had his good nature beaten out of him, not that there was any evidence on his skin as proof to the claim. The proof was ingrained in muscle memory and instinct, which manifested outwardly in carefully trained behaviour; like keeping his distance, and his hands, to himself—along with drinking himself into stupor in the hopes that it might dull the effect of any…influence that might have slipped past his guard. Which happened a lot more often than he liked to admit.

As she smiled up at him and Frank…well, his face was smoothed of any emotion to assume one of patient indifference. He was older now...and he wasn’t Jake. “Sure you are.” His arms were crossed over his chest, his finger tapping patiently against his side. While he might have let slide the little game she thought she was playing if they were at the Perfect Pint, the fact was, they weren’t. While it was of no fault of her own, Frank was also not oblivious to the eyes she attracted. “Look at where you are kid, you think this the sort of place that breeds trust?” He had half a mind to send her home now, though experience warned that- that was a sure road to a bad ending, one way or another. Then again, what did it matter? She wasn’t his responsibility, what the fuck did he care? He shouldn’t care about Ariana either but alas—he did care, and he cared now. Fuck. “Look, if you ain’t got an ID, I’m gonna send you home. Next time get a fake one or something.”

She noticed him watching her. Not that it was hard, being in such close proximity, but she felt uncomfortable regardless. Uncomfortable but necessary. Athena knew that she couldn’t very well kill this fae in the middle of a bar - though if there were a bar to do it, Soul on the Rocks seemed like just the place. Unfortunately, as unresponsive as he was to her hair-twirling, a man just down the bar was not - and he had to be at least in his late thirties. Athena rolled her eyes, adjusting her position - learning her arms further onto the bar, chin resting in the palm of her hand. She knew that she was attractive, and although the last thing she wanted was for a fae to be attracted to her (though how wonderful of an advantage would that be - what a way to get them all alone), if it got her something she needed, she could deal with it. It only further proved that she was good at masking her identity.

“I am.” She said, voice even. Her eyes narrowed at the kid remark, “well, I don't know, but can’t you just trust anyone?” Athena fought away the urge to smirk, instead letting her eyes grow wide. She was good enough at people watching to fake naïvety when the situation called for it. To fall into who she might have been if she and her brother shared more personality traits. “I do have an ID.” She slid it out of her wallet, handing it over to him. Joan Parrish, it read - not a total lie, though far from her real name - after all, she couldn’t have her parents getting in trouble, as they were upstanding members of the community. “Told you.” She tapped her nails on the countertop. “So, do I get a drink for free? I heard that sometimes if you’re lucky, that happens. I’ve already been offered that from other people here!” She could feel the cold iron of one of her knives against her hip, but she couldn’t use it. Not now. She could consider this a recon mission of some sort.

Frank answered her question with silence and a pointed look, his brows raised, as if the answer to the question seemed obvious enough that it needed no response. The word trusting and Frank could not be further opposites, anyone who knew him knew this, and even those who didn’t learned very quickly. He waited, watched, for the younger woman to produce her ID. When she does, he doesn’t take it from her hand, but waits until she puts it on the bar top. Joan Parrish. It was her face on the small card, and the date of birth proved that she was of age—if one was in the habit of trusting everything they read. Frank was not. Even if it didn’t, he seldom poured any great effort into inspecting anyone’s IDs, it was just a matter of doing his due diligence. Still doubtful of its authenticity, he returned the ID anyway (returning it to the bar top before stepping away for her retrieval). Her apparent confidence prompted an amused grin to crack over his lips, a chuckle building first in the depth of his chest which then formed the beginning of his words, “that might have worked on Jake kiddo, but I ain’t Jake. So I guess that means you ain’t so lucky tonight. Think about what you can afford and then get back to me, yeah?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, a particularly eager patron broke through the throng and claimed an empty seat at the bar. He’ll pay for whatever the little lady wants, he said and he smiled and he turned that smile to her, and then Frank wasn’t smiling anymore. “Fuck off Jerry,” the word sliced through the noise and he said them without hesitation. “If you think she’s gonna go anywhere with you, you’ve got another thing coming, so walk on.” The man—Jerry’s mouth opened as the beginning of a retort was forming, Frank turned his gaze on him again, and wisely, he thought better of it and slinked off. Frank’s height and general aloofness afforded him an influence that was untouched by any sort of supernatural advantage, this served him tremendously in a place like Soul, while it didn’t help him back any friends he’s convinced himself that he liked that just fine. He turned back to the younger woman, Joan Parrish, a little apologetic, he did just rob her of a free drink. “I mean, do whatever the fuck you want. You can call him back if you really want that drink, he’ll be more than happy to come back if he thinks he’s got a shot.”

Athena watched the man inspect her ID. The rumors that she’d heard about Soul on The Rocks tended to imply that she wouldn’t be asked for her ID, but considering she’d accidentally walked into a place of employment of a fae, she figured that luck was not especially on her side tonight. “I don’t know who Jake is,” she responded, giving a shrug. “This is my first time here.” First and last, probably. Though she wanted to find out more about the man - find out as much as she could. Even though she knew her parents would frown upon her being in the bar, if she could learn more about the fae, then perhaps all would be forgiven. That was, if they ever even found out what she was up to. She hid very little from them, which meant that they very rarely suspected that she did anything but what exactly she told them.

However, as another man came over and began offering to buy her a drink, looking her up and down, she twisted her lips into something of a half-frown. Even if he wasn’t way older than her, he was entirely not her type. This might have been a mistake, Athena was starting to realize. Continuing to realize, if she were more willing to be honest with herself. If nothing else, the dim lighting and completely not her style music were signs that she probably shouldn’t have even bothered coming. He was defending her? The thought practically made Athena’s blood boil. She didn’t need defending, particularly not from a fae, but a small part of her figured that in any other scenario, she would be at least a bit grateful. It just had to be a fae, didn’t it? “Are you kidding me?” She practically spat. “No way ever. I do in fact have a solid head on my shoulders, and that means I don’t go off with strange men.” She was always deeply fascinated at how unaware fae could be when it came to who she was. Not that it was something she’d ever dare complain about, but it amused her all the same. “I think I’d like a hard cider though, and I can pay.”

“Clearly.” He said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, closed lipped and crooked, but still with its soft edge. Despite what his appearance, and his general demeanour even, might suggest, Frank was never very good at playing condescending or deceitful. Everything about him was always painfully honest. He was private, and liked his privacy, but was always truthful. Some might suggest the latter was the unfortunate side effect of his supernatural inheritance, but that was all Frank. While anyone’s introduction to Soul was a source of amusement, especially someone inexperienced with the bar’s particular crowd, a quiet wariness always hummed beneath the surface, ready to spring to action at a moment’s notice. “Ah—yeah, don’t worry about Jake. If you’re lucky you won’t have to know him.”

The cute coy-school-girl routine dropped for a moment, and the little tiger showed her teeth. A consequence of instinct and character rather than anything so superficial. People were always infinitely more interesting than the mask they put on for others. He wasn’t sure if she thought her little flirting game would work on him—and then he wondered whether he should be more concerned if he gave her an impression that it would—but if she failed to catch his attention before, she’s certainly got it now. “Kudos to you kid. You might actually survive this shit hole.” He said as he reached for the glass and began filling it with the question. Of course it’s a fucking cider. Soul wasn’t exactly known for its extensive cider collection, most opted for any option that got them the most drunk at the lowest cost. Cider was not exactly the bar’s drink of choice. “Your hard cider, Joan Parrish.” With the practice of one who’s done it a hundred times before, Frank slid the cider across the bar, the glass coming to stop at her hand with a gentle tap. His distance rule strictly obeyed. Ducking his head into the kitchen, Frank called to one of the workers there, one hand already in his jacket pocket to produce a little white box of cigarettes as he called for someone to get their ass out here while he takes his fucking smoke break. To Joan, he said, “you can pay Hughie for that cider, Joan Parrish.” To Hughie, he said, “Joan Parrish still needs to pay for her cider,” and added in a hushed tone, “and do me a favour, keep the creeps away from her please?” And then he was out the back door, a lone cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Not that obvious, mister.” Athena wanted to bristle. Did, internally at least. If he was so damn keen on calling her kid then she’d fire right back. That was all she could do, right now. She wondered for a moment if there were any hunters in the bar. “Why, is he so much more boring than you are?” There was a giggle that followed her words, one that was likely too light and airy - more carefree than she usually found herself. One that drew a few more eyes as she finally resorted to covering her lips with a hand, refocusing back on the man. Apparently, acting overly calm and eager could do something of a wonder to stop her skin from completely crawling, though a certain part of her wanted to pull at it, just as she did whenever there were fae around, and particularly the ones who looked human.

“Trust me, I’m good at surviving a whole lot of things.” He seemed clueless enough to what she really was that she doubted that he’d take that remark as anything beyond a perhaps overly-confident co-ed, and that worked just fine for her. She wasn’t afraid to bite back if some creep thought they had half a chance with her. Athena had to admit she was a bit impressed the bar had a cider - though she knew it was a decently popular drink, this bar seemed far more the type of place to just have mediocre beer - though she supposed the same could be said about any number of the frat parties she went to. She caught the glass easily, curiosity piqued at the fact that he was staying away from her, potentially from any possible contact. She filed that away in her mind for later examination, for later when she was away from the bar that was practically buzzing. With a certain energy that she found herself equally repulsed and intrigued by. Incredibly unlike the life she was usually a part of, and for a moment she found herself feeling naïve - at least to a certain level. I wonder if that’s what my brother feels like all the time, Athena pondered for a moment before looking back over to the man, who was now leaving. “You’ll be back, won’t you?” She called out, before focusing on whoever else the fae had sent to babysit her. “How much do I owe you?” She asked Hughie, looking him up and down before pulling out her wallet and pulling out a twenty. “This should be enough, right? When’s my friend coming back over? Can’t believe he left right in the middle of our conversation.” A small pout formed on her lips. “So, Hughie? Name or nickname?” She took a sip of her drink, not quite focusing on him, but instead on the direction where the other man had gone, as if daring him to come back.

Mister. Frank noted a hint of derision that was lent to the word, a childish retort that was probably meant to rebel against the label he had given her. It was precisely something a kid would do, and it prompted a faint smile to curve at the edge of his lips. Then she giggled, and it was an uncommon enough sound that it attracted even more curious glances, thirsting for the pretty young flesh that had so generously presented herself to them at the bar. This time however, the boldness stopped at the glances; no one seemed particularly interested in following in Jerry’s misguided footsteps, or at least as long as Frank was still working the bar. So business went on as usual, at least for now. “Nothing stopping you from finding different company,” he raised his eyebrow in a kind of challenge, leaned forward just slightly, while still keeping respect to his six feet rule, “let’s just say, you giggle enough times and you can probably get as many free drinks as you want outta him.” That alone, Frank thought, spoke volumes about his particular…character. There was a reason Frank and Jake didn’t get along. Although Frank’s insistence that he was a slimey asshole (usually to his face) probably burned any bridges they had for reconciliation, which suited him just fine.

“Are you now?” There was something about Joan Parrish that Frank had come to enjoy—almost endear. Or the very least, found to be a source of light amusement. A certain battle-hardened naivety about her that appealed. No normal person was so quick to declare that they have survived things, and it spoke to something that she did. An unknown history that Frank was not privy to, and was still debating on whether he cared enough to want to be. Or maybe she was just a kid who said things she didn’t mean. Either way, that was a little note he tucked away, to be revisited later. She was drawn to him, for whatever reason, that much was obvious, or she wouldn’t have called out to him. He was suddenly very self-conscious of his abilities, one that seemed to operate of its own volition, sometimes even without him knowing. He spared a glance back at her but didn’t answer, and found himself that much more eager to get out and get himself back together. “He’ll be back,” Hughie answered for him, “he takes a lot of those…his smoke breaks. But he works harder than anyone here, and closes up after everyone and throws the assholes out, so the boss lets him.” He was not as tall as Frank, and was a skinny looking thing that could have a few years over Joan, but was definitely younger than Frank. Not a fae, but charming enough to be, certainly a lot more forthcoming than Frank was. He took the money from her and busies himself with getting her change, “plenty, thanks—and no, Frank hasn’t got any friends. I don’t know if you’ve met the man but he doesn’t exactly scream friendly. And god forbid he comes within a mile of you, literally. The day that man actually hands you a drink, will be the day hell freezes over. Oh, name’s Hugh, but everyone calls me Hughie which I think sounds a lot more…” His eyes look between the girl and the door, and then he laughs, “that son of a bitch. A little old for you isn’t he?”

She could feel the eyes on her and she shrugged it off. Even if they tried something, and something about the fae behind the bar seemed to be keeping them away, but even if they tried something Athena had no qualms dealing with them on her own terms. If anyone asked, it was easy enough to say that she’d trained at her mother’s gym - or rather, Linda Quinn’s, since she wasn’t Athena, not right now. Soon enough she wouldn’t need the fake, but it was working overtime to her advantage right now. Both for getting her into the bar and for keeping her proper identity secret from the fae behind the bar - though her face would remain the same - but if it came to that - when it inevitably did, unless someone else got to it first - it wouldn’t matter. “Mm,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder before she refocused back on him, watching as he leaned just slightly closer to her. “Well, he seems like a skeevy kind of guy, then, though I appreciate the tip.” Her lips curved up into a smirk. “Good to know how to get free drinks if I feel a need for it.” She adjusted the jacket, a sudden chill rolling through her body, though she couldn’t tell if it was due to someone opening the door or the continued presence of a fae so very close to her.

“I am.” She replied. He didn’t reply much beyond that, didn’t ask probing questions that could have so easily come along with it. That sometimes did, if she happened to off-handedly mention it to anyone else. Which she usually didn’t, or followed it up with how tiring being pre-med was - which wasn’t a total lie. It just wasn’t as tricky to figure out as some of the creatures she’d studied. Studied and dealt with, though Athena didn’t find any of that too difficult in the end, either. She gave a small huff at his utter lack of response, but allowed herself to refocus on Hughie who was, thankfully, not fae. She let her gaze flick up and down, taking him in, letting a smile settle on her lips once again. “Well, hard work should be rewarded.” Athena had half a mind to follow him outside, because then they would be all alone - but it was too obvious, too easy to point to her, and besides, Hughie seemed certainly more willing to talk to her. She pocketed the change, not looking back behind her again - any of the other creeps in the bar were at least maintaining their distance, whatever else they were doing mattered little to her. Inconsequential, in the end. “Well,” she began, biting her lip in false shyness once again, “his tricks are something.” He didn’t like to touch people. Her mind was spinning, narrowing down to what he might be. Of course, there was always the chance of being an overly-cautious fae, but she also knew there were certain ones for whom touch played a role. “Hughie’s a nice nickname. I -” she couldn’t fight back another laugh of her own, still light and carefree, at his next remark. “Oh him?” Tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth, she weighed her options. “I mean, I guess? He seems to care so much though, and what’s not appealing about that? He is old though. Well, comparatively speaking.” She permitted her gaze to focus on the door for a few moments more - a few moments beyond what might have been typical, before refocusing on Hughie. “Nice of you to stick around and keep me company though, I do appreciate that.”

A light blush coloured his cheeks, but he never shied away from flattery. Hughie blossomed under praise and kind words, a stark contrast to his co-worker who bristled at them, and guarded himself against them with a defensive word or cold silence. A sure way to sever any ties before it had even a chance to form. That was Frank. Hughie threw his head back and laughed, and if the word honest could be attributed to any laugh, it would be his. There was nothing derisive or sarcastic, not even a waver that might suggest jealousy. “Trust me Joan, you would not be the first, or the last person, to think that—or the first or the last to try. That is if you’re into the whole tall, quiet, mysterious and stupidly good looking types.” A stroke of luck with his god-given genes, some might say. Though ‘lucky’ was not the word Frank would use, and despite being raised Catholic, Frank didn’t believe in God. “Although to his credit, I think he does care, like genuinely. He looks out for people, he breaks up fights—well, I say ‘break up fights’, but he mostly just gets his ass handed to him. And then he goes and pays for their cab so they can get home. I mean Frank can be an ass, but it’s hard to hate the guy.” Hughie noted once more her wandering gaze back to the door, for a split second too long, and a hint of pity was found in the smile that now shaped his lips. “He is old—comparatively speaking. Although I should probably also tell you that he hasn’t shown any interest in anyone. Not once, not as long as I’ve worked with him anyway.” When her focus shifted back to Hughie, he was all mush in her hands. His grin was all teeth, both stupidly sincere and shamelessly pleased. “I think you’re real sweet, Joan. I mean it’s not exactly saying much considering the types we get in here, but you’re a lot nicer to look at for sure.”

Hughie wasn’t the only one to think so. The bold gazes found new courage in Frank’s absence, and more of them were suddenly very keen for a drink at the bar, and their generosity extended to the young woman that was already there. “Come on man, she’s minding her business, leave her alone.” His warnings and protests were silent to ears that considered rejection a challenge. Hughie was kind, and to those whose language was aggression and violence, his kindness was taken as harmless. Frank was not harmless, and his return was marked with a brusque, “fuck off Jerry,” as he grabbed a towel from under the bar and threw it over his shoulder: smoke break was over. “I’ll call a fucking cab next, I won’t ask again.” Hughie, visibly relaxed by Frank’s return, dipped his head to whisper something conspiratorial to Joan, a barely concealed laugh colouring his every word, “calling them a cab is Frank’s way of a threat.” Frank, who’d heard the hushed exchange, did not find it equally amusing. “Fuck off Hughie.” If you knew him just enough, which Hughie did, you could hear a ‘thanks’ in there.

There was something certainly satisfying about knowing that she could get a reaction out of the other bartender. Athena settled into a comfortable smile again, letting her hair fall over her shoulders as her fingertips tapped against the cider glass. “Try?” She said, tilting her head. She supposed it was comforting - to a degree - that her recon was easily dismissed as a childish crush. She wondered about Hughie - wondered if he felt secondary to the other man - the one who was, apparently stupidly good looking. “Maybe I am, who knows, really?” She let one finger tract the divots on the counter stop, making eye contact with Hughie as she did so. Though she had no interest of a romantic sort in either of the bartenders, a little extra attention to the one that was quite possibly ignored for favor of a fae who could trick and manipulate those around time couldn’t hurt. Besides, there was something incredibly endearing about him. Hard to hate unless you know what he is. She shrugged. “He seems real noble, huh? Besides, I’m not that young, but I understand your point. It’s all comparative, hmm?” Hughie turned back to her and he had a similar look on his face to many of the freshman boys who she sometimes saw around campus. “I think I might be terribly offended if you thought I wasn’t nicer to look at.”

She made a face at the other men who had decided that now was the time to return to the bar. Well, the rumors about this place certainly hadn’t been exaggerated. It was sweet that Hughie was doing his best to fend them off, though Athena had half a mind to turn around and deck one of them herself. Particularly that Jerry character. Turned out that she didn’t have to, given that she felt her skin crawl again before she saw him, and watched Jerry slink away, another laugh - though a bit more biting this time - escaped her lips. She turned to Hughie, running her tongue over her teeth and raising an eyebrow at his words. “Well, hey, at least it means the general public doesn’t have to deal with them.” Athena settled back, offering a shrug. “He’s just helping me, and since his name isn’t Jake I figured it’s safe, isn’t it?” She winked at Hughie before taking another sip of her cider. “You know cigarettes can kill you, right?” A repeated remark that she’d given to one of the patrons, earlier. This time however, there was a hint of amusement that would suggest a certain playfulness. Not that I’d mind, even if you have kept these creeps away. “Will you drink with me, at least?” Her gaze flickered over to Hughie. “Either of you.”

Hughie answered her with a pursed lip and a pensive expression. He didn’t just wear his heart on his sleeve, Hughie was all heart. He had enough heart in him to give to every pretty smile and every kind word he received, and he gifted them freely and in earnest. And he needn’t bribe anyone with promises of free drinks to convince them he was charming, he just was. Perhaps it was this charm or his naivety or a combination of both that had endeared him to Frank. With the knowledge of the world that existed beneath Hughie’s mundane one and the creatures that lived within it (creatures like him), the latter had warned him of his habit, though Hughie never took much notice of it. That was just Frank being Frank, he thought and Frank’s warning had been abandoned long before Joan smiled at him. “Noble is a strong word. I mean, the guy’s still an asshole.” He grinned, and did not mind saying it aloud considering how often he’d said it to Frank’s face. Frank just grunted, which means it must be true. And it was. “Don’t be. You look very nice.”

His hand operated entirely on its own accord as Frank made drinks that he’s done a hundred times before, for patrons he’s seen just as frequently. He was still technically on the clock, and Joan wasn’t the only one at the bar. Even as his hands worked, his mind was elsewhere, he spared a glance, and an ear, at the two as they laughed to themselves (“Ew—yeah, Jake is his own brand of asshole. Definitely do not get free drinks from him,” Hughie chimed). He recognised instantly that wretched hand of envy as she grabbed his inside and twisted it, giving rise to the ugly feeling. He envied their distance, the literal closeness as Hughie lent over the bar to reach her ear. He envied that they can joke and Hughie could be charming and pleasant and have his company be enjoyed and know with complete certainty that the reciprocated amiability was a result of him, because what else could it be? The simple, magnificent, connection between two people. Truth was, Frank was all heart too, he was just always too afraid to use it. For good reason. He answered her words with a raised brow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth; this was not the first time he’s heard this. Judging by her tone, it was not the first time she’s said it. “It can try,” he said, and it was casual enough to be taken as a joke, though the downward turn of Hughie’s lips showed that only Frank thought it was funny. That was because Hughie didn’t know that cancers don’t kill Gancanaghs, though Frank certainly smoked enough to test that theory. “I don’t drink on the job.” Frank said, just as Hughie answered, “yeah, sure!” He turned to Frank, eyes silently begged for permission, and Frank hadn’t the heart to say no. Oh what the fuck. “You are paying for every fucking glass Hughie.” As if the kid had the tolerance to go for more than a couple of pints. “No one hears of this, or you’ll hear from me.”

“Eh, still seems noble to me.” Athena grinned. “I mean, I don’t think it’s best if I say anything about the second part, because he’s been nothing but more than civil to me.” She could comment, if she wished, about the fact that he wasn’t human, that his niceties could easily be a front to whoever he really was - but perhaps that was another discussion for another time. If she ever got Hughie alone, to poke and wonder just what he knew, though she knew that she’d have to be delicate in her questioning, given how entirely oblivious the vast majority of the town was. It meant she’d have to find some way to see him again that didn’t involve coming to a creepy bar that smelled far too much of tobacco. “Well, if you say so, I’ll acquiesce, I suppose I do look good and a compliment from you is better than the others out there.”

Athena kept her gaze trained halfway on Frank even as Hughie whispered in her ear. If he was one of the species that she figured he might be, she had half a mind to say that she was safe, that he couldn’t harm her. But instead she bit her lip, gaze torn between the two of them. “I’ve got no plans to get any drinks or talk with Jake, don’t you worry - but it is sweet of you to look out for me.” It was part of a game, because people usually based their opinions on how someone looked, and she knew that she didn’t exactly look tough. She let her grin turn open-mouthed, running her tongue along the bottoms of her teeth. “Well, it can, and I could tell you about the damage it does to your insides, but maybe that’s not proper bartop conversation, hmm?” Raising an eyebrow, she shrugged at Frank’s refusal to drink. She hadn’t expected either of them to agree, but she supposed that she ought to not have been very surprised when Hughie was jumping to agree. He reminded her a bit of a puppy dog, in a way that she did admittedly find a bit charming. Maybe the factor of comparison played a role, too - what with being compared with a literal fae and a much of thirty and forty-somethings who remained far too eager to steal glances at her, though a good number of them were at least somewhat ignoring her now that she was focused in on the two bartenders. Athena took another careful sip of her cider, the playful and somewhat coy grin from earlier returned. “What will you be drinking first, Hughie?” she giggled. “Will Frank at least talk with us? I know I can provide better and more enlightened conversation than, well…” she waved her hand behind her. “Them.” She let her lips form into a pout. “Please?” Even if batting her eyes proved mostly fruitless on the fae, it didn’t hurt. Provide him with the sense that she was anything but a threat.

Hughie’s smile was wide, positively brimming with a lightness that did not belong in Soul. He’d tangled himself in the vines of Joan’s apparent loveliness and seemed to be in no rush to get himself out. Such was the romanticism of youth. Frank looked at the world through the cracks of the rose coloured lens, and it warned him to keep his distance; so he does. Hughie was too trusting, incredibly so. His smile said that he would throw himself to the wolves to ‘look out’ for the young woman sitting next to him, and Frank knew that he would sooner be ripped to shreds before he got a chance to save anybody, and if Hughie knew what was good for him, he would already be on his way back into the kitchen. “Thanks doc but I know what it can do,” to most humans anyway. “Don’t mean I’m gonna stop doing it.” Hughie turned to Joan, a resigned look on his face, and simply shook his head, “don’t bother. I’ve already tried. Many, many, times.”

Before Hughie could give an order, a pint of beer had travelled the length of the bar and stopped at his hand. He took a tender sip at first—nobody came to Soul to sample their most favourite drinks and the beer that Frank handed (or more accurately, slid across the careful distance of 6 feet) to him was far from his, but it was pleasant enough that the sip became a mouthful. “House lager,” he said, and after another mouthful, added, “it’s alright.” Frank, who was not attached enough to anything, much less the drinks at his least favourite bar, was not offended enough to give a reaction and continued fussing over some glasses for some more drink orders. Joan Parrish was a picture that resembled everything exquisite and delightful about youth. She was all play, with her pout shaped mouth and batted lashes, and the glimmer of something more secret behind pretty blue eyes. It charmed both the Hughie’s and the Jerry’s of the world. It might have endeared itself to Frank too had he let it, but true to form, he remained distant and detached, and answered with a simple: “Hughie can keep you company. He loves to talk, the trick is to get him to shut up…” Hughie launched into his objection at Frank’s accusation, but the latter’s attention was already lost. He was looking past them and out toward the middle of the bar, where the root of a brawl was beginning to take shape in the form of loudly traded words that graduated into a shoving match. “Fuck me.” He muttered under his breath. Frank doesn’t miss a beat, and tossed the towel aside as he carved a path out into the storm. The first fist of the night was thrown, and it cracked across Frank’s jaw with enough force to knock his head to one side. In fairness, the target was not Frank but the man behind him whom the bartender had pulled out of the fist’s trajectory at the last possible moment. Hughie winced, but didn't move from his seat. This was not his first fight at Soul, or the first time he’s seen Frank take a punch. He calmly reached over the bar, found Frank’s phone (punched in his passcode) and dialed a number. “I guess I’ll be calling the cab then.”

“Well, can’t say I didn’t warn you then,” Athena shrugged. She held a certain sort of delight with how much Hughie was smiling. It was almost enough to distract from the fact that there was a fae in this bar who was helping her and who she couldn’t kill. Almost. “Well, it’s good he has someone like you.” She didn’t laugh this time, but instead let her smile do all the talking. It drew less attention she found, and that was for the best, at least here. She was good at keeping secrets, keeping herself toned down when need be, though she did prefer to be more the center of attention usually.

Either these two did truly know one another in a way similar to how Athena knew Amanda, or Frank was just good at guessing orders or wanted Hughie to shut up. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it, which was a bit of a source of frustration for her, but she had gotten better about dealing with her frustrations as she’d grown up. This wasn’t some chess game when she was little, when she’d get terribly annoyed every time her brother took too long choosing the next move when they were playing chess. How she’d once gone through nearly an entire box of colored pencils in kindergarten, snapping each one as she tried to color in a picture all while sensing that one of her classmates was fae, but when the feeling was still new and entirely consuming so much so that she couldn’t pinpoint it. Regardless, Hughie had his drink now and Athena didn’t drink beer, but she had half a mind to reach out and ask if she could try some. Perhaps she would, soon, but not yet. “The cider’s great, if you want to try that.” She replied instead, unable to help herself. “I don’t have any germs, I like to keep myself clean as possible.” She glanced back over to Frank, watched as he meticulously cleaned the glasses (though, Athena had to wonder, would the clientele here really care if one was a bit smudged with a questionably cloudy mark?). If this was to be counted as recon, and she had to count it that way - and learning any sort of habit was beneficial in the long run. “Well, I love to listen, so it works out just fine.” Except before she could do more listening of the man near her, she heard a fist collide with someone’s jaw and then Frank was moving over and apparently what Hughie had said was true, because he was trying to break the fight apart and Athena sat with quiet fascination, though outwardly she shifted her expression into one of concern. “I guess you will.” She said, turning back over to Hughie. Palms pressed against her thighs, she let her eyes grow wide. “Can I help you?” Tongue held between her teeth, she blinked just how she knew she was supposed to whenever something terrible was going on. “We can get drinks another time.” That much permitted a shift to a teasing smile. “I just - is Frank going to be okay?”

Frank doesn’t swing but sidestepped every throw hurled at him. For one as tall as he was he moved with remarkable grace, although it was probably very easy to look graceful when one knew what he was doing and the other two were flinging their fists around in desperate, drunken, Hail Mary attempts at hitting something…anything. To their credit some of those blind throws landed, others merely clipped him, though neither had enough force to do any real damage. Which was just as well. He has yet to have a conversation about broken bones that healed overnight that did not end terribly at worst, and very awkwardly at best. “Oh don’t worry he’ll be fine.” Or he was until one of those Hail Mary throws saw Frank’s cheek at the end of a fist. He stumbled, but recovered quickly enough before the second Hail Mary found him. “Yeah…He’ll be fine.” Said Hughie, more to himself now. “Walk it off Frankie! That’s a lad!”

It was a battle against time at this point; more energy was required to throw a punch than to avoid it, and they always tired themselves out in the end. It was a sort of dance they’d watched him do enough times that one would think they would eventually catch on. Alas, anger made for poor decision making and with intoxication at its right hand the outcome was a predictable one, although they always seemed very surprised when Frank outlasted them. And he always did. This time, he caught one by the scruff of his shirt, and the other by the arm (his hand on the sleeve of the other’s jacket), which Frank had pinned up against his back as he pushed them both forward toward the door. Moans and groans and a chorus of general dissatisfaction ushered them out; the fight was over though not many were very happy about that. Hughie who was watching the unravelling of the events very closely, Frank’s phone still held up to his ear, let out a breath of relief as he finished the last of his instructions into the receiver. “Yeah, for two people…separately. If that’s okay?…okay? Okay. Thank you.” Frank was already out of the bar at this point, he’d just caught a glimpse of him throwing the two (barely) fighters to separate ends of the curb as the door closed behind him. Hughie pocketed the phone and turned to Joan with an offer of a small apologetic smile. He’d wanted to impress her with a pleasant time, in a hopeful bid to get her to come back so he might see her again. He had liked her, and you don’t find girls like Joan Parrish in places like Soul on the Rocks. Although after what had just happened, he decided that it might just be as well. “I’m sorry, I have to go make sure he’s okay.” He had half a mind to tell Joan to stay put. The last thing Hughie wanted was to put her in the company of two men who, only moments ago, seemed bent on tearing each other, and Frank, apart—although the alternative to that option offered him little comfort. “Do you want to come with?”

Even Athena had to wince at the fight breaking out in front of her. She was used to training, used to fights designed for the purpose of bettering oneself and not for the purpose of trying to - well, she didn’t even know what the fight had started about. Only that it now involved two drunk men and a fae who she watched more carefully - that part held in certain fascination, watching his movements and the way he held himself. Just in case, she reminded herself. It was always important to understand how others worked - their bodies and minds. Particularly people like Frank. She glanced back over to Hughie, who seemed incredibly willing to cheer on his - friend? - Athena was not quite sure, but his eagerness continued to be fascinating to observe.

She bit her lip as the other men in the bar groaned as the two drunks were ushered out. This place really was something else, though Athena found that she did not entirely regret coming, if only because she had now discovered a fae who she had never found before. There was always the chance that she would have run into him elsewhere in town, but here she got the chance to be not herself and that permitted her a certain level of power. Though she very much doubted that he thought of her as vulnerable entirely (she could read his facial expressions well enough to know otherwise), he certainly had no idea what she was properly capable of, given an opportunity. She let her gaze shift back to Hughie. She almost felt bad for how much her lips turned to pouting around him, how much of a thrill she got out of his reactions - though at the same time she wasn’t entirely opposed to them either. She listened as he ordered cars for whoever was out there, drew designs in the water that had fallen from the condensation on her cider glass, both their drinks now long forgotten. “Don’t be sorry.” She let her gaze fall to him again, all softness and caring. Besides, she’d lost track of Frank as well - though she presumed he was outside with the drunks. “Yes. Yes, I would like that very much.” She hopped off of the stool and wrapped her jacket around herself. “That is, if you’ll have me, of course.”

Frank turned at the sound of the bar’s aged hinges groaning, a sharp word taking shape on the tip of his tongue, poised to command any over-zealous spectator that followed them out to take their sorry behind right back in. Alas the words never became more than a thought long forgotten as a mop brown-curly head emerged from the bar, a smaller blonde one following close behind. Frank’s surprise was not for Hughie, whom he’d already expected to come check on him, as he usually does, but was reserved for Joan Parrish. She was apparently not the little flower that shrank from a fight but rather a woman of firmer constitution that followed it out. Perhaps she was neither of these things, and was simply another over-eager spectator with the difference of a pretty face and a more expensive outfit. Although the way she regarded them, regarded him, Frank suspected that it was the former—either way, there was more to Joan Parrish than a pretty smile and a cute glass of cider, and he filed this little piece of information away. Maybe he would see her again, maybe he won’t, either way it didn’t hurt to know. Not that it made any great difference to Hughie of course, who perhaps did not realise the same caution Frank did, or he did and simply didn’t care. Even with Frank minding the two drunks, Hughie kept himself firmly fixed between them and her. “Your phone Frankie.” Hughie took a step forward, the phone in hand, but Frank stopped him and gestured to him to throw it over instead. Unknown to Hughie, he was edging much too close to Frank’s 6 feet, but he didn't question it (although the prospect of closing the distance between himself and the two violent drunks could have something to do with it) and did as he was asked. “And don’t call me Frankie.”

“Cab should be here soon,” Hughie casted an apprehensive eye on the two shadows that sat at opposite ends on the curb, Frank standing firmly between them. “You look…good.” You could practically hear the wince that seeped from Hughie’s face and into his words. The street lamp did him little favours on his split lip, and the dark purplish shadow that sat prominently against his cheekbone. Alas, Frank wasn’t looking at Hughie but rather past him, at the woman that had not said a word in this entire exchange. She didn’t look afraid but rather fascinated, and so was Frank. “Sorry about that ugliness back there.” He said. Hughie, as if realising that Joan was still behind him, a new development as far as Frank was concerned considering he hadn’t lifted his gaze from her since it found her, said rather sheepishly, “oh, yeah. I didn’t want her to be left alone with that lot back in there so I thought—” Frank didn’t give him the chance to explain, and went on as if he had not said anything at all. “Are you leaving too?”

She could feel Frank’s eyes on her, but it did little to bother her, to knock her off balance. Athena wasn’t so easily moved, even if he could practically see his mind working, as if trying to figure out who she was. Even if she never returned to Soul on The Rocks, she fully intended to run into him again, either purposefully or on accident. There was far too much that she was curious about, so much so that her curiosity seemed to have alleviated the chills under her skin. Which was something else she filed away - if she turned everything into work for the sake of curiosity whenever she could, then perhaps she could more easily work to stop feeling on edge every time she came near anything fae-related. She focused her attention back on the matter at hand, watching Hughie as he gave Frank back his phone, and she watched to see how much he would react to being so close. She had half a mind to try it a bit herself - and perhaps she would have, but the two now rather dejected but still fairly drunk men were not something she wanted to deal with.

She continued to watch the exchange between the two of them until she felt Frank’s eyes on her again. “I mean, I guess I should’ve expected that.” She shrugged, eyes growing just slightly plaintive. Athena realized then that perhaps Hughie had been a bit too focused on the phone return to notice her. Or remember that she was there, and she offered him a smile that said thank you for caring, or at least, she hoped that it did. “He was just trying to look out for me, I think.” Pursed lips and a shrug followed that. “I might be leaving.” She let her gaze focus back on Hughie. “Unless I was given reason to stay - but I think that given the experience with the patrons,” she looked back at the door, “given all that - you two have been real kind to me,” she forced a blush onto her cheeks as she looked between them, “maybe it’s best if I do go.” She pulled out her own phone. “Though,” she turned to face Hughie, “if you wanted to hang out without creeps hitting on me and without your boss having to break up bar fights, I’d be down.” She looked back over to Frank, “you should probably get some ice for that to reduce the swelling, though you took that better than I imagine most would’ve.”

“I’m not his boss.”

“He’s not my boss.”

Their words were said at the same time. Hughie, because he liked Frank too well to ever think to form an association between him and their actual boss. Frank, because—simply, he didn’t care to be anyone’s boss. His aversion to telling people what to do could be credited as a consequence of his supernatural abilities. It was also just as likely that it was just Frank being Frank, or maybe a combination of both. He watched as Hughie positively lit up at her invitation, his heart pumping a light dusting of pink to colour his cheek. “Yeah? I mean—yeah, yes! Of course!” He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans, and with visible effort to keep it from trembling, proceeded to put his number into her phone. “Christ…” Frank’s eyes turned heavenward, desperate to look at anything else that might spare him from further witnessing Hughie’s love-sick bumbling routine. He caught Joan’s eyes, and her remark prompted his hand to absently nurse the sore on his cheek. “I’ll live,” he said and tried not to think about the pain that was emanating beneath.

Sweet relief took the form of two cab cars as they pulled up against the curb, one after the other. Frank took the first of the drunks by the arm and stuffed him into the back of one cab, deposited some cash into the driver’s window and did the same for the second offender. He tapped his hand against the roof of the cab and the last car pulled away. Just like that, the night came to a sudden stillness and all seemed quiet once more. Alas, silence was a delicate glass and in the hands of drunken idiots, it could do little else but break. In the case of Soul on the Rocks, it quite literally shattered as the sound of glass breaking could be heard from inside the bar. A reminder to both Frank and Hughie that they were still on the clock. Dutifully and without a word, Frank stepped away from the curb and headed for the bar. For a brief moment, he met Joan’s eyes, and he didn’t falter but came to a deliberate halt in front (but still distanced) of her. “Don’t take this the wrong way Joan Parrish, but I really hope I don’t see you here again.” He said and ducked back into the bar, the door creaked open, bleeding sound into the night, and then closed behind him, and then quiet. This time it was Hughie who broke it, and he did so with a grin that he turned to Joan, “I think he likes you.”

#wickedswriting #c frank #chatzy #strong hand #// jt is a gift to us all #frank is literally the best #this chatzy was one of my favorites ever #and it accidentally turned into being uhh 14.5 pages #don't @ us pls #we got carried away

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karihigada · 5 years

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assassin AU

*me talking to my friend*

Shizaya Redesign!

and !!!! that shizaya redesign! ACTUALLY! look here: initial AU prompt

assassin!shizuo taking care of brat!izaya ! :D

let me tell you in detail

assassin!shizuo send to kill this upstart tech wizz kid izaya who founded his own company and got really succesful and now his adult business partners want to get rid of him. and shizuo does mean to kill him but instead shizuo ends up running away with him through a series of circumstances which make it seem like shizuo betrayed the people who hired him so he ends up fleeing with izaya cause they are now both hunted by other assassins

and izaya totally hates being wih shizuo at first. and shizuo wonders why he bothers with this brat but izayas skills (hacking and tech wiz stuff) prove to be invaliable so its an unlikely partnership based on nessessity. at first. but after killing so much for a living, shizuo thinks for once protecting somehing is nice

okay sorry i wish i could give you more for assassin shizuo taking care of a little shit and slowly coming to enjoy it but i actually never came up with more or concrete scenes

or you know maybe, imagine this. they are staying at some hotel and shizuo was out shopping and comes back and finds izaya lying on his stomach on the bed, playing videogames or you know actually, he lies on his back, his head hanging upside down the edge, and he plays like that and shizuo comes back to such a /childish/ scene that he cant even comment. izaya gives him a welcome back without looking at him and when shizuo walks past him and the tv in order to get to the kitchen he just gets an Hey (for being in izayas field of view haha) izaya then asks if shizuo got the stuff and shizuo just sighs and throws a bag of cheese chips at him which izaya gleefully tears open and starts munching

izaya in this is such a hypocritical contradiction of health cause he will happily stuff himself with all kinds of snacks but draws the line at junk food and instead demands his proper meals are healthy

so shizuo goes to cook dinner while izaya keeps stuffing his face and shizuo tells him to stop or he wont have an apetite later but jokes on him izaya still wolfs down the dinner shizuo makes (and says its delicious) cause izaya is a growing boy.

what the fuck this is way too wholesome with shizuo taking care of like 16 year old genius izaya, there is no way i can put fucking into this later with shizuo way too much of a guardian hahahaha

well i guess not every AU needs them to get together. instead shizuo becomes his bodyguard (izaya later also pays handsomly once the whole plot with the betrayal and framing and other assassins and corporate takeover is over) and they become good friends.

and maybe a few years later when izaya is older (between 18 and 20) and laments (like full on imagine him lying on a bed or couch with his hand dramatically raised to his forehead like hes about to faint like a victorian virgin and just overdramatically ranting. he is such a drama queen bottom bitch) that he could never find an interesing partner cause people are only interested in his looks and money and that shizuo is the only one who sees him for who he is and unaffraid to tell izaya off

so at first izaya jokingly comes onto shizuo or like fullon suggests they should try hooking up (i imagine shizuo is like, mh, 29 when he meets izaya? has been an assassin for a while. so he is like 13 years older.) and shizuo is just like What The Fuck Brat and says if izaya really wants to get laid that bad he could just pay anyone he wants.

izaya says he doesnt trust anyone, "remember that time my businesspartners send an assasin after me?! that was scary!" he says in mock fright. shizuo just grunts.

izaya then drapes himself around shizuos neck, shizuo going stiff, and whispers in his ear "common shizu-chan, its just sex"

shiziuo untangles izayas arms from his shoulders and gets up, leaving. not cause he is afraid he will give in but cause he is afraid izaya will push this too far and then get pissy when shizuo keeps refusing him and it will destroy the trust and friendship they build up. cause shizuo does enjoy this life at izayas side way more than his previous occupation

more from before the timeskip: imagine shizuo carrying izaya under one arm to get away in dangerous situation and the first time it happens izaya hates it, the second time he is completely nonchallant about it and types on his phone while shizuo is carrying him also since izaya is tech wiz hacker he gets them like access to security footage so that shizuo can sneak up on their pursuers

also, i imagine it a bit like Dishonoured videogame? like its a stealth assassin game and the plot is neat but anyway for every 'major' assassin mission for the plot you have the option of just killing the target or finding a noneleathal way of getting rid of them

some of these may include selling them into slavery but hey, at leas theyre alive xD yay morality.

anyway. imagine like this situation shizuo finds himself in, protecting a kid and multiple other strong assassins on his tail. he COULD, and would normally just kill all persuers to ger rid of them but with izayas tech wiz skills (cause iazya doesnt want to kill people) they find other ways to take them down.

like maybe one gets held up in the airport and then arrested and izaya conveniently reveals their identity as a hitman so the police just made a goldcatch. or another gets into a traffic accident and will be out of commission in a hospital for a while first (while izaya reveals their identity to the police...

okay the only way to take down hitmen with technology is to have them caught by the police but still xD nonleathal means xD

and shizuo is really impressed by izayas abilities (and izaya also gets them fake IDs and passports and creditcards and makes reservations in hotels under fake names so he keeps them afloat while they are on the run while shizuo protects them from physical danger. which is also nessesary since some hitmen do catch up with them and shizuo has to take them down. some with lethal force sadly since it was a dangerous situation and it shakes izaya up pretty bad and izaya flinches away from shizuo before he gets a hold of hismelf again and and tries to laugh it off and say that he is okay but shizuo can see the strain in his eyes and how tense he is. maybe thats towards the begining and thats when shizuo decides that they should try to work out other means of taking down their pursuers

also imagine shizuo teaching izaya his knive skils :3

okay moving to post time skip. like izaya keeps making moves maybe and shizo puts up with it for a while but it gets to a boiling point where shizuo looses his temper and yells at izaya to cut it out (he normally never yelled at izaya) and izaya actually gets scared cause he didnt want to chase shizuo away.

like. izaya had a weird sort of imprinting on shizuo. he does like him as a friend and mentor and guardian but some part of him is scared shizuo will leave? so he tried being more to shizu than just some kid he once protected

so maybe if they talk about it openly they can resolve this and izaya doesnt have to fear shizuo leaving. and shizuo says that izaya can look for a partner his age and shizuo wont get jealous and will instead protect them too and maybe a kid. but izaya also says he meant it serious that noone he meets could ever look past the money he has (and also people are boring). "but shizuchan. shizuchan was never boring. he understands me."

so they do spend their life together in a fullfilling mutually supportive realtionship but it does stay platonic and both are satisfied with that :)

or maybe like 5 more years later when izaya is finally no longer a kid (mentally. that brat) and still says he wants to sleep with shizuo at least once but that it wouldnt change anything between them that they do end up fracking and start a sorta weird mix of platonic and sexual relationship that maybe evolves into romantic so all in all good end (other than that they are totally codependant haha)

or, alternate not good ending: 19 year old izaya pressures shizuo into sleeping with him and shizuo feels horrible about it but satisfies him sexually to appease his temper in order to keep his peaceful life

...

okay more domestic assassin shizaya things: izaya in in charge of their money, ne? and they need to lay low , ne? izaya orders them new clothes online. and shizuo has to wear what izaya buys xD cue them dressing like in the pic above with iazya in the pinks shades and shizuo in the suit. cause that brat wouldnt know subtle if it bit him in the ass

im trying to come up with more scenarios. but i explicitly said izaya DOESNT order copius amounts of take out food. unless its healthy take out food. expensive healthy take out food.

also. imagine. later in life. shizuo teaching izaya some light hand to hand combat self defense. them together standing barefoot on gym mats and izaya is sweating and panting and wiping the sweat off his forehead, his hair sticking in all directions cause he tried attacking and taking down shizuo for the dozends time and shizuo is totally collected and unaffected, blocking and sending izaya to the mat with ease. and izaya gets this really competitive streak. wants to /take him down/.

it actually becomes a sorta game, for a long time. izaya trying to catch shizuo unaware. he only once succeeded, a long while later, after they resolved their problems and fears and live a fullfilling life togehter and shizuo is completely relaxed and at peace and happy.

#shizaya #durarara #orihara izaya #Heiwajima Shizuo #ficlet #au headcanon

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tonystarkbingo · 4 years

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Tony Stark Bingo Party Prompt Meme

http://generatorland.com/usergenerator.aspx?id=25057 -- we took tags from this random generator and then made up more detailed prompts from them. These prompts are open use, even if you’re not participating in the bingo, but please tag us if you write one, we’d LOVE to see what you did with it! nonsense + everyone is gay + denial : Tony+harem - Tony, while an incorrigible flirt, does not believe that anyone actually likes him, let alone as many as do. They come up with increasingly ridiculous ideas to ask him out or at least let him know they like him, while he innocently thinks they're all just such awesome friends superpowers + bodice-ripper + sad Stuckony - something set in the Regency(ish) era but with secret superpowers as an added bonus. Let’s of angst over trying to hide their secret powers, and wanting to save people without revealing themselves and also cause they’re gay. clones + nighttime + wishes Coulson/Strange (StrangeAgent? AgentStrange? DrAgent?) - Coulson ends up spending the night in the NY Sanctum. Some of the artifacts happen to be particularly sensitive to subconscious fantasies... and isn't it lucky that cloning himself happens to be one of Strange's powers? cruising + flashbacks + bad boys Winteriron possible future Stuckony - small warning for drinking mention - Tony is driving around to distract himself so he doesn't get drunk. He gets in an accident because he is not actually in a state to drive. The accident is comparatively harmless, the flashback to his convoy being attacked in Afghanistan is less so. When Tony wakes up in the hospital he learns that the person who dragged him from his car to safety is one James "Bucky" Barnes, resident motorbike riding bad boy heartthrob and friend/visitor of Steve "regular ER customer" Rogers, who's his hospital roommate. room service + lifeguards + sharing Tony is a lifeguard who takes his job very seriously. He's attending a convention-slash-training seminar at a posh uptown hotel, but then there's a knock at the door. He opens it to find two room service carts, both with order slips on them that indicate they're actually destined for another room. Rather than call the obviously harried and beleaguered bellboy back, he pushes them down the hall himself and knocks on the door... which is answered by none other than the hot beefcake fellow-lifeguard that's been distracting Tony all day. They end up sharing the enormous amount of food... and then maybe some more. :wink: overthinking + pity sex + customer service Tony just turned 40, he's been friends with Bucky and Nat for forever, and they'd been each other's marriage backups for the longest time, like, if they weren't married at 40, they'd marry whoever wasn't married either in their little trio. Only, two years prior, Buckynat became husband and wife and so he's having a little pity party on his floor at the Tower, drinking virgin mojitos and seriously consider a particular customer service to cheer himself up in one way or another - might as well get an orgasm, as shitty and sad as it may be, it's his birthday ffs - but then Bucky and Nat appear in his elevator, and they pull him off the couch he's been sprawled on for three hours, and Nat is the first to kiss him, and he's too stunned to react much but when he does question wtf is happening, Bucky shushes him and Tony lets him. The next morning he is evidently convinced it was all just pity sex, or a kink of theirs or whatever.... certainly nothing to do with the fact that they've been courting him forever and got tired of waiting for him to step out of ObliviousStarklandia. Of course not. wolves + romantic friendship + wigs Okay, so, someone has been doing an excellent job of hiding his baldness from someone else, with whom he's been in a long term best-friends-but-in-love not-quite-relationship. He's got an elaborate series of wigs, and over the years he's gradually been replacing them with slightly more grey ones so that someone else doesn't realise. Aaaand then someone gets bitten by a werewolf, and when he shifts for the first time he is completely bald and the secret is out. accidental relationship + butt dialing + warlocks Tony Stark is not happy with today's mission, not like there's an occasion to enjoy dealing with magic. But now he's in a relationship with Bucky, which is not bad, that man is gorgeous, but this is not the way. He's ranting about it to Jarvis and doesn't realize that he sat on his phone nor that he dialed the other supersoldier in the team until he hears a muffled laugh beneath him. He's going to kill that warlock smuggling + fear + road-trip okay, a Star Wars AU. Farmboy Peter is fleeing from stormtroopers who found out his parents were Jedi. He runs into smuggler Tony and they take off in Tony's ship for an extended road trip in space. possession + loving marriage + gardens & gardening Pepperony, Morgan insists there's a spirit possessing the garden because she's seen the plants dancing. Turns out they've accidentally created sentient plants and Tony is like nope, call somebody else, I do mechanical engineering and they call Dr. Cho to fix it. The marriage is in there somewhere I promise idiots in love + bonding + resurrection Ironhawk - Clint tries to get Lucky back after he goes over the rainbow bridge, but he can’t actually read latin and ends up bringing back Tony from the 18th century. And poor Tony gets Clint as his guide to the 21st. Shenanigans and eventual fluffy ending improv + cultural appropriation + shield maidens After the Battle of New York, Tony's interviewing Thor about Asguardian tech and learns that they have all kinds of shielding devices, and gets interested in trying to replicate what Thor describes just in case aliens decide to pay a call on Earth again. Thor, for his part, is kinda shocked that Earth doesn't have any such shields, though on the other hand it is Midguard, so. You know. Tony gives it a shot and a couple weeks later he's launching the satellites into orbit for a preliminary test of the shields. He intends to test them with SI tech developed from seized Chitauri tech, but before he can get the chance an alien army shows up, guns blazing and very mad about something. The shields hold, thankfully, and the aliens send a strongly worded letter informing him that he has infringed upon their religious and cultural traditions by putting the Stark logo on them. Their planet was visited centuries ago by time-travelers that greatly influenced their culture, religion, government, etc. These time travelers carried devices with that same Stark Logo on them. The Stark Logo has become a complex cultural symbol over the centuries, and they don't appreciate him using it on war tech, even if on shields. Eventually, they figure out that the time travelers' tech was Tony's tech, and agree to leave in peace, but only after Tony spends a terrifying couple of days trying to improvise his way through a diplomatic disaster with an alien power. vampire family + slapstick + loss WinterIronWidow: So, Natasha's been a vampire for a long time, and she's lonely, so she decides to take on some mates, enter established relationship WinterIron. She vampirises them, which leads to Tony having fits about GARLIC and my god, I'm ITALIAN, you horrible woman! And Bucky's like "I'm... CATHOLIC?? OM-- I can't even say G-- now??" awkwardness + chatting & messaging + shyness Tony doesn't understand why everytime Bucky comes into the lab, Dum-E tends to drop whatever he's holding and go hide in his charging station. Dum-E's always a bit clumsy and silly but this is more than usual and Tony's worried that Dum-E doesn't like Bucky or something like that. Anyway after much discussion, with JARVIS as translator and go-between, it turns out that Dum-E has developed a bit of a crush on Bucky's fancy robotic arm. Which ends up of course being a hilarious & awkward situation for all involved. candles + explosions + blind date tony gets bullied by pepper to go on a blind date to get out of his funk, she insists that this Matt Murdock character is the perfect date and Tony will like him. reluctantly tony goes to fancy restaurant and meets Matt Murdock and they hit it off instantly the little snarky assholes. they have a nice dinner by candle light and it's all going so well up until dessert when they order some kind of chocolate lava cake which was tragically not cooked properly and ends up exploding on both of them and bam they fall in love and live happily ever after skeleton puns + reincarnation + deus ex machina A snap, that was all it took to snuff out something so bright amidst the rubble of what was once New York City, and, with Tony gone for good, the living seem rather, well…dead. Until, one day, someone they all thought long dead returned to them, a blue cube glowing in his grip and a sweet promise of a new beginning dripping from his lips. But of course, no new beginning comes without a price laundry + tenderness + dialogue “I hate laundry,” Morgan declared after trying to refold her sweatshirt for the seventh time. “Me too kiddo,” Tony whispered back, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to Pepper who was putting clothes into the wash. “But that’s why we do it together. It gets done and we don't have to do it alone.” world domination + paranoia + everything hurts Tony knew what was coming, he knew. He’d seen the future and he knew. The Kree were coming - why would no one believe him? Not his husband, not the team, not even his own son. He kept convincing them they had to suit up and defend the planet and Steve and Peter kept telling him that a engineering professor from Cal Tech can’t do that, that this suit he talks about is only in his delusions. But he’s not paranoid. Or crazy. Or any of those other words. He is Iron Man. He just has to convince everyone else. feels + useless lesbians + Santa's workshop Toni doesn’t think anyone could accuse her of overflowing with Christmas spirit. That hasn’t stopped the rest of the Avengers from turning the “festive cheer” dial up to eleven, and Toni thinks she might just have to spend the whole next month hiding in her workshop. (Hey, she let DUM-E wear a Santa hat – that has to count for something.) Too bad Jamie Barnes – cyborg superassassin extraordinaire, Captain America’s best friend, and Toni’s big gay crush – has gotten the exact same idea. Now the rest of the team thinks they’ve got a “thing,” and Toni can’t decide which is worse: putting up with the Avengers’ not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, or spending all her time with the woman she loves and who she is absolutely, 100%, totally certain doesn’t reciprocate. Getting through this holiday season without having her heart broken might just take… a Christmas miracle. shapeshifting + secret organizations + nurses “C. Barton - Orderly.” That’s what his tag said. But only a very few people knew exactly what kind of hospital Saint Natalis actually was, and just how busy they could be during the full moon. kissing games + pirates + book stores Tony always thought that the shop had a mind of its own. The books were one thing, whispering their secrets to patrons who managed to find their way to it. Jarvis always did warn him not to touch any of the artifacts. The "DO NOT TOUCH" signs plastered all over the crates. So maybe it was his fault that he managed to summon 'Buccaneer Barnes' after touching the shiny pirate sword. "Let's play a game. If you win, I'll help you put all those runaway monsters that jumped out of the books. If I win, you owe me a kiss. Whatdaya say Stark?"

#TonyStarkBingo2020 #prompt meme #party games

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