#anyways it’s just like nice or whatever

[web-three-point-ohhh]

Let's talk about why Google changed the Gulf of Mexico's name, and why all the big tech companies are bending the knee to Trump. This part is really important.

Google, Amazon, Apple, Meta, and Microsoft all hold monopolies. Each are worth trillions of dollars thanks to the anti-competitive practices the US government has allowed them to get away with for two decades.

Remember when we were young, that cool older brother of one of our friends who drank tea and let us smoke some of his weed if we let him talk about how the Egyptians invented electricity? And how he'd tell us that the US government was fifty years ahead of consumer technology? That whatever the US military is using right now, we'd get to buy at Radio Shack when we're old and gray? Was that ever true? I don't know. But it certainly isn't now.

The US has privatized our technology efforts, and in many ways, our national security. Google and Microsoft provide AI technology for killing machines. Meta routinely hands over American data to the NSA, CIA and FBI, which effectively makes all Meta platforms government surveillance tools.

The US relies heavily on these companies for war, anti-terrorism efforts, and general national security. In exchange, our politicians have allowed these companies to grow to inconceivable sizes, destroying competition in the process. Of course, our politicians enriched themselves along the way, trading stock based on insider information about upcoming government contracts and regulations.

It used to be that big tech could just bribe our politicians to keep their monopolies. Sure, our progressive wing on the left has been screaming anti-trust, but they don't hold any real power so it's not a big deal. It's been a nice equilibrium where everyone got rich and everyone was happy; everyone except the poors, of course.

Anyway, here comes Trump—a dipshit chaos agent, who, like it or not, came to power on a populous message. Most people hate big tech, if they've been paying attention, and Trump could very well decide to break these companies up on a whim. Big tech is petrified of anti-trust, and even more, Trump's erratic behavior. Bribes are required, but that's not enough. They need to cater to his ego.

So we see these companies do goofy shit like change the names of bodies of water, or go on Joe Rogan to talk about masculine energy. But it's not the goofy shit we need to worry about.

What we should worry about, what is truly scary about these trillion dollar-companies with CEOs all on edge, is the invisible shit. What are the companies doing to appease Donald Trump's ego that the general population cannot see? These companies control our communications, commerce, businesses, and effectively the infrastructure for the entire internet.

What are they willing to do for Trump behind the scenes to avoid anti-trust?

Crying and puking, Google maps made the Gulf of Mexico say Gulf of America

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[sosasturns]

bad ideas & good distractions - c. sturniolo

fic, part one of bed chem… next door neighbor!chris x beauty influencer!reader

the first time you notice the moving boxes in the hallway, you don’t think much of it.

it’s a nice apartment building, and people come and go all the time. besides, you’re too busy editing a new video to care about whoever’s moving in.

then, later that night, it starts.

the music.

so loud it rattles your walls, pulsing through your head as you stare at your laptop screen. you try to ignore it, try to focus, but the bass is relentless.

eventually, you sigh, shut your laptop, and crawl into bed, hoping it stops soon.

it doesn’t.

this continues for the next few nights—loud ass music, doors slamming, voices in the hallway. annoying as hell, but not enough to make you confront your new neighbor.

until one night, around 1 a.m., when it’s actually a full-blown party.

laughter, shouting, people stumbling up and down the hall like they pay rent here.

you lay in bed, glaring at the ceiling, seething.

what the hell is his problem?

but instead of doing anything about it, you toss and turn, forcing yourself to sleep.

the next morning, you’re filming a get ready with me for an upcoming event, sitting at your vanity, blending concealer under your eyes.

“i did not sleep last night,” you say, “my new neighbor—who, by the way, i have not met yet—thinks my apartment complex is a frat house, apparently.”

you shake your head, dabbing in more product. “anyway, i’m going to this event later, so let’s fix my face and act like i’m not sleep deprived as hell.”

you post the video and go about your day, shoving the whole situation to the back of your mind.

but that night, when the music starts up again, you’re done.

at first, you try to ignore it, sipping on a glass of white wine as you edit a brand deal video, but then there’s moaning. loud, exaggerated, fake as hell.

you slam your laptop shut.

this motherfucker has lost his mind.

you storm into the hall, crossing your arms as you knock on his door, loud as hell.

the music doesn’t stop, but the door swings open a moment later.

and that’s the first time you see him.

low sweats. shirtless. hair slightly messy.

he leans against the doorframe, eyes dragging over you—your heartless hair curlers. pink pajama set. silk robe. fluffy slippers. the sleep-deprived glare on your face.

you looked like you just woke up from a slumber on twenty mattresses and still felt the damn pea.

then he smirks. “cute pajamas.”

you shift your weight onto your hip, unamused. “most people on this floor are in bed sleeping right now.”

his smirk deepens. “clearly, i’m not most.”

your eye twitches. “turn the music down. and the fake ass moaning, too.”

he chuckles.

you wait. “so?”

he shrugs, barely moving. “i’ll think about it.”

oh, you hate him.

“whatever.” you spin on your heel, stomping back to your apartment and slamming the door behind you.

the next morning, your head is pounding, but you push through and meet your girls for brunch.

“babe,” one of them says, stirring her mimosa. “you look rough.”

you sigh, stabbing your eggs. “my new neighbor is a fucking menace.”

they lean in. “spill.”

so you do.

you tell them about the loud music, the party, the smug ass smirk.

they listen, nodding along, sharing their own bad neighbor horror stories.

but one of them grins. “he’s hot, though, right?”

you hesitate. “that’s not the point.”

“but he is, isn’t he?”

you purse your lips, sipping your mimosa. “whatever.”

they laugh. “oh, you so think he’s hot.”

you don’t answer.

but you don’t deny it, either.

a few days pass, and you avoid him.

not hard to do.

but the thought of him lingers, especially late at night, especially when you’re in bed, mind wandering.

he’s just a guy.

just your annoying ass neighbor.

but you can’t stop thinking about his voice, his smirk, the way he leaned in the doorway—

get it together.

except you can’t.

and eventually, you come to terms with it.

it could just be a singular fuck. nothing more.

just something to scratch the itch.

so, one night, against your better judgment, you grab your keys, take a breath, and step out into the hall.

heading straight for his door.

@ sosasturns

part two 02.14

sosa mafia taglist: @submattenthusiast @sophand4n4 @secretlocket @mrsdillonx @ch6rm @sweetrelieef @gabri3la-sturns @inspiredangel @sturn777 @et6rnalsun @faiyaz555 @whore4mattsturniolo @courta13 @katie-tibo @ifwdominicfike @raesturns @adoremattsturns @conspiracy-ash @chrisslut04 @ily-tothemoonandback

+ @riasturns @angelic-sturniolos111 @cinnqmonsw1rl @blushsturns @fratbrochrisgf

[peacheeeliz]

030. my wife! (wc: 960)

“Okay, Sera, Jake, you'll stay in that little bunker over there,” Heeseung explains, referencing the small bunker built in the middle of the desert. “Roz and I will stay out here to keep Voodoo and Quix away, but if they get at least five blocks away, there's a level for you to pull that'll set off a good amount of TNT I set up.”

“A good amount of TNT?” You question, staring at the sandy bunker. “And we'll be safe from the TNT in there, right?” Heeseung's character stares at you without a word, his lack of answer leaving you on edge. “Your bunker isn't going to kill us, right?”

“Nooooo,” he says, voice pitchy as his character turns away slowly. “It'll be fine, I promise. There's nothing safer.”

“I highly doubt that,” you whisper to yourself as he goes on to continue more of the plan.

As Heeseung yaps away, Sunghoon's character turns to you. “Hey, I wasn't lying earlier. I'm here to protect you,” he says softly.

“Ew, can we keep the flirting to a minimum today?” Jake questions, rolling his eyes behind his camera. “This is a life or death situation. Now is not the time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sunghoon lets out, huffing. “You're just jealous.”

“Yeah, I'm so jealous,” Jake continues. “So jealous that we're in the middle of a war and our allies are too busy flirting to listen to the plan.”

“The plan that will most likely kill us?” You say, laughing when he doesn't respond. “Yeah, something tells me being inside that bunker will be more dangerous than out here.”

“You guys have no faith in me,” Heeseung huffs, after finally realizing no one was listening to his explanation. “Maybe if you actually listened to me, you'd feel more confident staying in the bunker.”

“I really don't think it will,” you answer, shrugging – despite the fact he can't see it. Before he can retort, an arrow flies straight past your screen. “Oh fuck.”

Just over in the next biome, Sunoo and Taeyoung are standing in the tree line with their bows drawn. Sunghoon immediately turns back to you, “Go. We'll hold them back, alright?” He starts, ushering you towards the bunker. “And remember, if they get too close, pull that lever.”

“But we don't even know if it's safe for us,” you retort, but you still make your way towards the bunker with Jake.

“You'll be okay, baby, I promise,” he tells you. “Now go. Stay safe in there, okay?”

Your smile brightens at his comforting voice, but Jake is quick to pull you out of your trance as he calls you from across the desert. The two of you take your place in the bunker, watching as the chaos unfolds in front of you. Many shots fly across through the air, but the battle takes a while to get close and personal; and eventually, swords are drawn.

“Red Winter is coming!” Taeyoung calls out, targeting Heeseung and slashing his sword towards the older boy.

Jake's character slowly turns toward you, “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks quietly, and you can barely hold back your laugh. “This is a Minecraft series… What does that mean?”

“It means we're at war with theater kids,” you answer, laughing with the man. Your eyes find their way back to the fight outside, landing on Sunghoon as he crosses swords with Sunoo. The two draw closer and closer to the bunker, Sunghoon backtracking when he realizes just how low his health has gotten.

“Wait, wait, wait, Sera, look,” Jake exclaims, trying to show you just how close Sunoo was getting to the bunker. “You gotta pull the lever!”

“Me? Why do I have to pull the lever?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows. “Why can't you?”

“Because I don't wanna,” he says sheepishly, showcasing a nice toothy grin towards his screen. “Come on, if they get too close, they could kill us! You have to pull it.”

“Whatever, whatever,” you say, but you make your way towards the lever anyway. “If we die, I'm blaming you.”

“I can accept that,” he answers, making his character nod quickly. “Now go! He's right there with Roz” He pauses. “Wait, don't pull it. Roz is too close. It might get him, too.”

“I,” you take a deep breath. “Do you want me to pull it or not?”

“Don't pull it,” he says. Just then, an arrow is shot right into the bunker, flying right between your two characters. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. “Okay, pull it.”

You roll your eyes and move your mouse to hover over the lever. Taking in another deep breath, you click, and everything happens in a flash. TNT explodes all around the bunker, and your hearts drop faster than you can even count, until YOU DIED is written across your screen. Your mouth falls wide open, eyes wide in disbelief as you stare at your screen in silence.

Meanwhile, Jake has a similar reaction, watching your character disappear as sand falls all around him. He lost a few hearts, but not nearly enough to kill him off. He's brought out of his trance when he hears Sunghoon scream, “My wife!”

At Sunghoon's outburst and the crash of thunder that rings through the sky, the four out in the desert to the giant hole in the sand. “No, no, no, no,” the man babbles, eyes wide as he reads the chat over and over again. How could he have let you die? He was standing there with all three lives left, and you were gone. In his state of shock, left unaware of his surroundings, Taeyoung takes his chance to attack.

Within seconds, the same YOU DIED screen shines across Sunghoon's face.

synopsis ⤏ popular youtubers team up on all new minecraft smp, quick to name themselves the "newly weds" after sunghoon gifts y/n a poppy. but will these romantic endeavors between the two just be "for the lore," or will feelings blossom?

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[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

Why you assuming people are eating food with their hands touching unclean shit? That's not like...a a requirement for going to the theather.

Me personally, I wash my hands in the bathrom before eating anything, and use hand sanitizer frequently, as well as using disinfectant wipes on the buttons if I think I will touch them while eating???? (Also I don't eat with my hands touching food in theaters usual. Just the wrapper)

I also dont go into crowded theaters cuz I hate people sitting next to people that aren't my family or friends and being in crowds in general, after I had a really bad experience in a theater as a kid. Despite usually ending up in non-crowded theaters and I STILL wear a mask every time I go into one. (a k95 mask if I'm not out of stock. n95 is a bit more expensive and less accessible to me, but also just harder to wear with my glasses sometimes. Need to find a good one eventually because I'll have to wear it for other things.)

_______________________________________

Also, this is just another reason we should bring back and support drive ins.

They're fun community building and supporting events that literally just require staying in your car. You don't have to be around anyone else in close proximity to enjoy watching a film, and the screen is EVEN BIGGER. The only downside is like...no surround sound hi definition audio, or seat movements or whatever the fuck they provide in the extra special theaters and not standard theaters.

Which, I also avoid unless it's something I REALLY wanna see and experience because... standard is just fine and way less expensive

_______________________________________

ALSO,

@i-cant-promise-that2

I recommend trying taking headphones or earplugs with a really nice hat to go over your ears.

I haven't gone to the theaters without my noise cancelling headphones like...since I first got noise cancelling headphones because I KNOW the noise is gonna get too much for me at some point. ESPECIALLY during fucking action &, superhero films.

it honestly doesn't really affect my experience at all. And when I want to hear fully I just take my headphones off or change the setting on them. Even when I briefly didn't have noise cancelling headphones, I still took my other ones and wore them over my thick beanie and/or hoodie (which, I normally put my headphones over my beanie anyways and then my hood over my head) and it was still significantly better than raw dogging that shit.

Watching movies should be a lot like going to a concert; Protect your ears.

Ofc, if you tried this and it's still too loud, TOTALLY fair and I'm sorry for wasting your time 😔

plus, honestly plugs don't help for when you can FEEL the audio which can be extremely overwhelming at times.

idk if this is a boomer take but I think ppl should make more of an effort to go see movies in theaters bc I couldn’t bear it if the movie theater industry went down and the only way to watch movies was through streaming I’m not strong enough

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts - seungcheol •

seungcheol’s resting bitch face annoys you - in fact, it’s so bothersome it distracts you during meetings - it makes you wonder if he ever smiles

you start glancing at him whenever there’s a chance, even in the hallway like a weirdo

but nothing - he’s like a constantly annoyed statue

worse you almost start to appreciate his face, which is just a new irritation, especially when he starts invading your normal thoughts

you can be enjoying your evening, having a nice dinner, and suddenly you’re wondering if choi seungcheol is having a nice dinner too, is he maybe out laughing with friends, or is he sitting in a sterile white room eating protein bars and listening to classical music like some serial killer - it’s obnoxious the way he’s taken up residence in your brain

this was not what you had in mind, when you idly wondered why he never smiled

it’s when you’re at a conference that you happen to notice something like a grin form on his stupid, handsome face

but it was a split second, so you were sure that didn’t count

you were surprised though when he sat next to you at the bar after the group dinner - you glanced to see him perusing the drinks menu, you also noticed he had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt - you didn’t exactly hate seeing his muscular forearms

you decided it was best to focus on your drink though and to avoid any extra details about seungcheol

but no, no, no because he had to speak

“so what are you drinking anyway?”

you looked over, “me?”

he nodded, “i don’t know anyone else”

you glanced around, realizing you didn’t either

“oh um, some version of a paloma” - you wondered if you could be more basic - a margarita, that was possible more basic

he nodded looking back at the menu, there was a surprising awkward pause until the bartender came back for seungcheol’s order - you were surprised when he ordered the paloma too

it was quiet again until he got his drink and seemed to slightly choke on his first sip, “oof what is this? it’s like soap,” he whined

you watched him looking amazingly animated over the bad taste he had just encountered

“do you not drink often or something?”

“yes, i do, but this is foul,” he whispered

you laughed, “then order something you know you like, you know beer or whatever,” you were just guessing

he shifted uncomfortably, “i drink other things too,” he sounded petulant

you grinned, “oh yeah, i just watched that fun little experiment,” you nodded, “it seemed to go very well”

you watched him blush, “i can drink this, no problem”

you nodded, “umhm, i bet”

he looked supremely annoyed, “yeah, okay, i choke this down, and then i get to pick the next drink”

you couldn’t help but laugh, “okay and what we go back and forth trying to gross one another out?”

he nodded, “i bet you can’t get past one real drink”

you purse your lips and offer your hand, “fine, you’re on - loser has to grade papers for the winner for a week”

he suddenly looked very interested, “only if it’s the intro classes where every response is a garbled nightmare”

you nod in agreement, certain you can win this, “terms accepted”

you shake hands on this devil’s bargain

and you wake up the next day, having no idea who won or lost - in fact the only thing you know is that your lying in bed, fully clothed, and seungcheol is wrapped around you like you’re his personal body pillow

you elbow him roughly, which only makes him press closer

you groan and try to pull free, but he is really holding on - you finally manage to work yourself free, breathing hard from the effort, only to have him pull you back to him

you wanted to scream until you felt the kiss just under your ear and the soft laugh from him, “why are you always fighting me?”

his husky voice caught you off guard, but you quickly snap back, “how am i fighting you?”

he sighed, “you refuse to let anyone in the department get remotely close to you, and every time i invite you to something, you blow me off”

you roll your eyes, “because i don’t like the department’s holiday party?”

he nuzzled closer, “yeah, and every other thing, like game night, which is actually fun”

you were quiet for a moment - you could feel his fingers tracing little designs against your skin

“i do always hope you might show up to be my charades partner because jeff is truly awful,” his breath was so warm against your skin

“jeff is kind of an idiot, though, maybe manage your expectations,” you murmur

he hums in response, his hand wandering lower to your naked thigh

you can’t help yourself, “does jeff like cuddling after a bad night of charades too?”

he laughed to himself, “you’re hopeless”

he leaned up then, you thought he was going to leave or go to the bathroom, but instead he leans over you, gently caging you with his arms, “besides, jeff isn’t really my type” he whispers playfully

“umhm, so what is your type prof. choi?”

his expression is much softer than you think you can handle - he’s looking you over with his tender gaze

all things you’ve cataloged away about him swirl through your mind, like how gorgeous his eyelashes are, how pretty his skin is, how soft his lips look - and he’s so close, his slightly spicy cologne is really nice, you wonder why you had hated it before

it’s when his lips make contact that you hear you own soft moan, which seems to spur him on

you feel his hand on your thigh again, pushing up your skirt, you pull his hair and lick into him just as you feel his fingers brush the crotch of your panties

he’s almost too delicate when he fingers you, but you still feel an orgasm wash over you

you feel him lean up and watch as he unbuttons his shirt, without thinking you reach out and drag your nails lightly down his chest and abs, leaving slender pink lines

you glance up to see his smile, “cute, kitten”

you nod, “want to fuck your cute kitten?”

he nods slowly, licking his lips and unbuttoning his pants

you’re surprised to see his cock spring free, already half hard and only getting bigger

you lie back, opening your thighs wider - he watches you pull off your top and bra, he works his cock and groans softly when he sees you squeeze your own nipples

“play with me daddy” you coo, reaching down to push down your underwear and finger yourself sloppily

he nods, “yeah, kitten, get your pussy nice and wet for me”

you giggle when he pushes your hand away and picks up your legs, throwing them over his shoulders so your ass doesn’t even touch the bed

and when he plunges inside, you arch off the bed, feeling the intense way he’s stretching you

“perfect, kitten, taking me all the way the first time” he says sounding breathless himself

you’re panting and reaching for him, grabbing anything to help ground yourself

but then you feel him start moving, slowly at first and then he’s snapping his hips, you know you’re moaning from the intensity of it

you press lightly against his chest, “‘m so close,” you whimper

he groans, “i know kitten, i can feel you getting tighter,” he thrusts into you roughly, “you’re gonna come for me?”

you nod, breathless and grasping for the edge of the mattress, you’re moaning and whining, his cock is so good, you’re certain he’s fucking into your cervix at this point

you yelp and feel him pull out quickly, “oh kitten, fuck you really are perfect,” he whispers as you squirt for him, your juices gushing freely, your thighs shaking, he gives a soft smack to your pussy causing another spurt of cum, he smirks

and then he slides back in, his moan is so lewd - he only lasts a few more thrusts before he’s coming too

you find yourself lying on his chest, his cock still inside you - you aren’t sure what to do other than enjoy his warmth

at least the conference is over and you have a late flight, otherwise, you might be in a rush for him to pull out

[direbeastrex]

fun facts for the thread: the old fashioned 'hand a clerk a list and then wait while they grab you your items' is still a thing in the UK in *one store*, called Argos. The whole customer-facing part of the shop is comparatively rather small considering they stock the amount of things you'd find inside a big airy warehouse style department store. it's set up very minimally, maybe some tvs on the wall to show things like picture quality and refresh rate, the odd thing they want to display like furniture or the like- but not a lot that is worth it to grab and run out of the shop with. Small electronics or headphones might be hung up in the aisle to try and catch you with impulse or the like, but otherwise- it's not really got shelves or bins or anything. Just tables with laminated catalogue books, slips of paper, and tiny, infinitely stealable wooden pencils. The function of Argos has been for the last however many decades that you walk up to all the laid out laminated catalogues, flick through them for the thing you know you want already (and maybe some things that might be specials that month or whatever if youre flush), jot down the product codes on said provided slip of paper with said provided infinitely stealable little wooden pencil, walk up to the register and pay, and then they send the product codes to the *rest* of the shop- which is actually a massive warehouse with rows and rows of shelves organized by those product codes. Like the part of Ikea where you get the flatpack version of the thing you found in the showroom, but it's everything- tvs, consoles, white goods, kitchen appliances, video games, pc equipment- it's all back there. It saves a ton of space and time and man power, because they don't have to make anything look pretty or browseable- that's what the catalogue is for! They know you know what you want, and they save overhead on loss prevention and having a dozen people on the shop floor keeping the place tidy and reorganized and restocked any time some lady or her unruly kids wreck the place, let alone having to deal with people shoplifting. No being accosted by someone paid to be nice to you at the door. Just- go in, Pay for Thing, wait a couple minutes, leave with Thing.

It's also affordable as shit. Obviously the big ticket items are going to be expensive anyway, but they have their own brand for a lot of essentials. It would, however, be DIABOLICAL to put shit in a supermarket behind glass and locks, to me. Its annoying enough when they do it for safety reasons with certain kinds of medicine or whatever, and in the UK sometimes some shops will have their booze have a little alarm tag on the top to 1) keep it sealed and 2) if you book it out the door it'll make a hell of a noise, but at least you can still put it in your basket and you don't have to track down someone to unlock a whole shelf for you, yikes.

I think the only reason delis/butchers work this way is because it's so limited- it's just one kind of food, you can have a conversation with the expert who is right there and can do things like a special cut for you or give you a recommendation- it's more like getting drinks at a bar during a quiet hour. Much less about money changing hands quickly, much more about clarity and purpose and good service.

Published Jan 14, 2025

[itoshiabi]

How I think your first meeting will be with blue lock characters

Pt.2: Rin, Shidou, Hiori, Kaiser.

Pt.1 - Here

Itoshi Rin- The Stray Cat Situation

You crouched down, trying to coax a stray cat out from under a bench when a tall shadow loomed over you.

"That's not gonna work," a bored voice said.

Looking up, you saw a sharp-eyed guy with dark hair staring at you, arms crossed.

"I wasn't asking for advice," you muttered.

He sighed. "Tch. You're doing it wrong."

Before you could argue, he squatted beside you, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a protein bar. He broke off a tiny piece and placed it near the cat.

Within seconds, the cat cautiously stepped forward.

"…Huh," you admitted. "Guess you're not completely useless. Anyway, thanks!"

His eye twitched. "Whatever."

Shidou Ryusei – The Street Fight Interruption

You were heading home when you spotted a commotion in an alley. A blond guy with pink streaks was grinning wildly while a group of men yelled at him.

"You bastard!" one of them growled.

"C"mon, one more round?" the blond taunted, clearly enjoying himself.

Before things escalated, you pulled out your phone. "Should I call the cops?"

Shidou turned, eyes locking onto you. Then he laughed.

"Damn, you're bold," he smirked, walking over like he hadn’t just been fighting. "Wanna grab a bite instead?"

"…Are you serious?"

"Why not?"

And that's how you met the most chaotic person in your life

Hiori Yo- The Rainy Bus Stop

You were stuck at a bus stop with no umbrella, watching the rain pour down, when someone beside you quietly spoke.

"You can stand under mine, if you want."

You turned to see a boy with soft blue hair, holding an umbrella big enough for two.

"You sure?" you asked.

He nodded. "I don't mind."

As you both stood there, sharing the small space, he glanced at you.

"You don't like the rain?"

You shrugged. "It's nice to watch, but not fun when you’re drenched."

He hummed in agreement.

The bus arrived, and before stepping on, you smiled. "Thanks, umbrella hero."

His face turned slightly red. "…It's nothing."

But as he watched you leave, he realized he kind of hoped he'd see you again.

Michael Kaiser – The Airport Stranger

Your flight was delayed, and you were stuck at the airport, sitting near a guy who looked like he belonged on a magazine cover.

Bored, you glanced at him, only to find him already smirking at you.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes. "I was just wondering why someone like you isn't surrounded by fans."

He leaned back, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Maybe I wanted a break. But now I've found something interesting."

You scoffed. "You don't even know me."

Kaiser chuckled. "Not yet. But I've got time before my flight.'

To your surprise, he kept talking to you, finding ways to make the time pass with his playful arrogance. By the time the announcements came, he grinned.

"See you around, Schatz."

[mctvsh]

pt. 2 kidnapped!enemy!medic!reader x polytf141

cw: military & war inaccuracies, reader uses she/her pronouns, and is mostly girl based, reader has long enough hair to smack her in the face

proofread-ish

by now, it had been a little over 2 hours of sitting still and silence. afraid one wrong move could cost you your whole life. the Captain had left, surveilling outside with a fat cig hanging out the side of his mouth. the pretty boy, whose name is Gaz (as you've learned from Scot's nonstop chatter), was sitting next to the laid down the chatterbox, whose name you have also come to know as Soap (Ghost told him to shut up, which he did not do).. anyways, what good does this do you? nothing. you still didn't even know the Captain's name.

you continue to sit still for a few minutes, Soap's never ending talking echoing in the room and all you could do is internally sigh with how annoying he was.. although, his cheerfulness DID ease your worries. though it was instantly stopped everytime you realized Ghost was 2 feet away from you and was clutching his gun like it would grow legs and walk away from him.

you glance around once more, ears ringing. you sigh, loud and definitely unashamed. to which you gained a more intense glare fromm Ghost, and a pause in Soap's sentence. yikes.

"My bad.." you grumble, using up all your self control to not roll your eyes.

as if he could intimidate you..

"Ye seem tae hae yer panties in a twist bonnie." Soap says with a shit-eating grin. Gaz stares at you, surprisingly sympathetic.

you glance at him, eyes narrowed.

"Nope. Just fine, thanks.." you mumble, lips in a pressed, tight line. before you practically jolt. a loud clank coming from the door that Price had exited out of.

oh great, watch it be a hyena with how bad your luck is..

and nope, it's the Captain. close enough to be honest.

"Choppers here, git." the Captain's voice rumbles, although, he had a hint of warmness nonetheless.

either way, you're grabbed like cattle by Ghost and set on his shoulder, face to face with his ass, which would be a nice sight if you didn't hate his guts. okay so, you're on your way to die. you look up the best you can, facing a grin from Soap as his chest rumbles with laughter at the sight of you.

what the hell is so funny, bastard?

you were starting to get hungry, honestly.. Gaz had caught up to the Captain before your ears twitch. oh? his name..

"Price.." Gaz says before the rest of his words fade as he whispers to incoherent sentences.

Captain Price.. it has a nice ring to it,

you guess..

wait, who cares!? you'll be dead soon anyways!

you walk out and you hear a loud whirl from the helicopter which you were facing away from, hair flying in your face and catching onto your mouth. and now you're being manhandled onto the chopper, hitting your head on the frame with a yelp. you can feel all four of their eyes on you after that one.

"Tha's real charming, lassie." Soap, again.

if you had a gun, you'd shoot him first. why is he even able to stand up or walk right now? sure the gash wasn't that deep but.. you bet it still hurt. especially with the stitches.

whatever, not your problem.

"Leave 'er be, Soap." the Captain, coming to the rescue! you still don't like him..

but he IS handsome, and.. wait. pause. why are you thirsting over one of your kidnappers? is this stockholm syndrome?

anyways! you're set on the seat, before having your hands tied up. behind you.

"Hah, pretty sight, huh?" Gaz finally speaks, amusement in his eyes.

you can feel your cheeks redden, but hopefully not noticeable because you send a firm glare to him, annoyed. they don't seem convinced, though you couldn't tell with Ghost manhandling your wrists. tying them together and then setting his big body across from you, his head leaning against the window and closing his eyes. arms crossed. Soap was grinning, and you can hear Price give instructions to some guy named Nikolai, in the front.

who knows what'll happen next. you're not excited and you can feel your stomach growling. eyes pulled in a tight furrow and lips slightly frowning as you glance outside. arms already sore, why the hell did he tie it so tight.. whatever..

all you can hear is a russian saying how long it'll take to get back to base.

6 hours. 6 hours of torture with more of your kidnappers, great.

for now all you can do is feel your eyes get heavier and heavier.. until your body cowers, your head dropping down and that's that.

tysm for the support on the first part, you all are so sweet 🥹

——————————————————————

@2bdamnedmadnesscombat

@lilyalone

[silkenwinger]

Umm so... Sexual favors/seduction gone wrong (or right) with Price... (mdni!!!)

It's not like you need money. Well, it's always nice to have it, for sure. But the job pays well already, as expected of a profession where you can always blow up in pieces.

What you seek is more along on the trail of glory, as lame as it sounds. You're a woman in an extremely male dominated field, and the very thing that has led you here is also driving you insane. Ambition, or the need to be on top at all times, is behind most of your professional choices.

Which is how you found yourself in this taskforce, anyway. Work as hard as a mule and you'll get somewhere. Except...

Well. It feels like you're not working enough. The accolades can't be there if you're not on duty most of the time, and you're doing a lot more paperwork than you're used to. You need, at the very least, the thrill of moving out and jumping out of a plane. Not obsessively checking if the printer is out of ink. This is not what Laswell had promised you.

You do have some experience with this team at least, and it has been positive. Soap and Ghost, for their eccentricities, are top notch soldiers. And John Price, your captain, is a decisive and confident man who rarely endangers his subordinates. Which is why you want to work with them. Seriously.

Seducing your boss is probably one of the lamest things you could do in your situation, straight up un-feminist, with no low chance of it blowing up in your face. But it has gotten to this point. And Price... well. If you can convince him, you get to sleep with an attractive older man and get more action (in all senses). If he rejects you, he'll be cavalier about it, you feel. You hope? You’ve seen him send you longer glances than appropriate at times. Probably not enough free time to get a real girlfriend. Your attention should be enough to mellow him to your liking. You’ll chat a bit, initiate contact, do the deed, and ask him. Linear, an exchange and a pleasurable means to an end.

Honeypot endeavors were never your specialty, but you have had sufficient training to know you need to be tempting and lend an ear to whatever ails your victim. Dressed as skin-thigh as possible with military issued clothes, you approach him in his office when it's already quite late, warm light haloing the desk. He's sitting there, reading some report or another, glasses perched on his nose and tired face.

You greet him chirpily, and he does the same a bit more mutely. He doesn’t say anything once you reach his desk, which sends you into a panic. He just looks at you with almost glazed eyes. Shit, you hadn’t counted on him being too exhausted to even consider your offer.

He raises one bushy eyebrow at your prolonged silence. You feel a rush of cold water running down your spine, but keep your smile open. Delicate.

“Just wished to know how you were doing,” you hear yourself saying, “besides the cold hard events said in briefings.”

He lets go of the paper that floats silently on the desk, and leans back on the armchair, arms crossed. His gaze is still appraising, and you think he may be biting his lower lip in thought, but it’s hard to tell with the diffused light. He recovers enough to speak to you, voice hoarse from disuse. 

“Something the matter on base?”

“Huh? No, not at all,” you reply, voice caught by surprise. His head tilts.

“Has anyone given you trouble?” He continues his inquiry, eyes thin, like he’s reading your very bones. You’re a bit uncomfortable with what seems to be genuine concern on his part.

“No, sir,” you laugh, embarrassed, “everything has been going well.” And then, for some reason unknown to you, the truth comes out of your mouth.

“I just really want to know what’s going on in the field. I’ve never been off active duty for so long…” you trail off once you realize you’ve let out much more than you wanted in the first place. Remembering why you came here in the first place, you take a step closer.

Price exhales, like the same thing has been bothering him for long. Which you doubt, seeing all the responsibilities he holds. Rolling his shoulders, he takes off his glasses and leans closer, elbows touching the desk, and you take another step.   

“I see why that would bother you. You have a brilliant record, sergeant. I don’t say that lightly. You’re very talented, but the latest missions needed small groups, and the other men and I have been working together for longer. That’s a special kind of bond that can’t be replicated without time and effort.” His tone is gentle, but the words destroy you all the same.

“Oh, well.” You breathe out, pointing your feet inwards, suddenly feeling both shame and sad anger raising inside you. So it was a you problem, and not instead sexism or whatever. You haven’t been here long enough, you haven’t bonded well enough, you don’t bring something special enough to make you stand out in any way. Swallowing, you raise your eyes again, meeting Price’s focused ones on you. The urge to cry bites at your cheeks, but you need to hold on, explain yourself before you can flee. Fuck, you didn’t even accomplish what you came here for.  

“I’m… I’ll do better. Whatever you need me to do, I will–” your voice trembles more than you want it to, but you get interrupted.

“Hey. Hey. It’s alright, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been splendid, sweetheart,” he tells you, leaning over, hand coming to hold yours, remarkably hotter to the touch than yours. He runs his thumb on your knuckles, a reassuring gesture. It feels like he’s an old time knight at the service of his queen.

“It was just a coincidence. I did not intend you to feel unvalued in this team. Hell, thank you for telling me instead of sulking for years like some others,” he smiles, eyes almost disappearing. You attempt a little smile, still not feeling satisfied with your explanation. But Price won’t hear any other plead, and he apologizes to you for not communicating better. 

You go back to your room with your heart in your hand and maybe something more. Your mission failed clamorously, but you don’t feel too bad about it, somewhat believing Price’s words. When two days later you get the call for a deployment in Russia, you almost skip all the way back to your quarters.

What you don’t expect, in the biting cold of the harsh climate, is for Price to keep you glued to his side. Before, you usually went with Soap, and once you did rec with Ghost. Instead, you’re now with Price for all the entirety of the mission. He keeps close, pointing things to you far closer than he needs to. The pat of his hand on your shoulder and his low good job at one of your shots prickle your nerves like you haven’t felt in a while.

When you finish the day, the two of you huddle up in a grim safehouse. At least the fire started. Removing your gear, you send a glance to Price, who’s also removing his boots. You feel genuine embarrassment when you remember your attempt some days ago. What were you even thinking? Cabin fever got to you, in a way…

Sitting on the couch in front of the fire, you warm your frosty toes, stretching your legs. It’s been a hard day, and maybe you really are out of shape, but you think you did okay. You feel Price sitting next to you, quite close, and when you turn, you see he’s removed all layers but his black, tight shirt and his pants. You suppose you should thank him.

“Captain, I’m honored you chose me to bring along today,” you say, earnestly. You almost bite off a chunk of chapped lips, hands under your knees. Price just laughs and takes an absolute paw of a hand to your hair, ruffling it. You scrunch your nose, happy to be building this bond that is so important in this task force. But then Price’s hand goes lower, to your cheek, briefly pinching it, and then to your neck. 

“You’re a good girl,” he says, hand still on your throat, just holding and not squeezing. Saliva pools in your mouth, unwillingly. You can only look at him with suspiciously wet eyes again.

“You really had my back today,” he adds, caressing your jaw. You let out some form of strangled noise, before you find your voice again.

“Captain-”

“Call me John,” he whispers, and you feel the slight sting of his moustache before you even realize he has gotten impossibly closer, and he’s kissing you, sweetly and not demanding. You keen, but lean into it, into him. Your hand comes to grip the short sleeve of his compression shirt. His hand brushes against your side, calming, cupping your breast, and then slithers inside your pants. He pats your cunt over your underwear then, and slides his fingers under it.

“You should relax more. You have nothing to worry about,” he mouths in your ear, and you nod. Your back is arching, and your foot is coming to support you from under as you open your legs more while he starts circling your clit. Behind your closed eyes, you can feel the fireplace’s heat and the one coming from him blending, becoming the same thing and surrounding you completely. His strokes are precise, like he’s done this to you a million times, and you can hear he’s muttering something in your ear still, but you’re not understanding the words. John slips two fingers inside your pussy, still going at your clit, and the sensations become close to overbearing, almost making you jump off the couch. But he keeps you steady and close to him with his other arm around your torso, playing with your tits from over the clothes. You come with a high pitched sound, covering your face, but his muttering has turned even softer, quieter, more reassuring as he removes his hand from your pants. You sniffle, glancing at John, and he’s got the fingers he had in you in his mouth without a care in the world. 

“You can sleep now, honey,” he says, matter of fact, like you’re husband and wife, and you feel a surge of affection for this man who took your concerns to heart and more. You wish you could do something for him, too, but you’re suddenly very sleepy. He lays you gently on your side and caresses your back.

Drowsy, with your head leaning on the couch’s arm, you can’t help feeling like you’ve been taught a real lesson on seduction.

[lonelyroommp3]

i’m going to be so so for real with you and i will say this as nicely as possible: not every impulse or emotional response needs to be posted online for everyone to see. like your reaction right here is, in fact, exactly the kind of thing i - along with several others posting on this topic atm - am talking about. i would have had absolutely no clue that you felt defensive upon reading this post had you not put all this in the tags. i would have had zero idea about your opinions on rap, or your opinions on my post (if you don’t strongly agree with a post you don’t have to reblog it at all! it’s your blog! post whatever you like) if you hadn’t put all this in the tags.

you can feel as defensive as you like, nobody can stop you having a knee jerk reaction, but other people on this website - notably me, the op, but also anyone who fancies trawling through the tags - can see what you post.

and while i’m just a white person posting about this because i like music, and i believe in the value of broadening one’s horizons in their listening every so often, and i find the common tumblr arguments against rap are often steeped in antiblackness that i feel i ought to call out, a lot of people posting about this are, in fact, black people trying to get (mostly white) tumblr users not to write a whole sweeping supergenre of black-pioneered music off wholesale because of frankly silly - and, again, often racist, whether you realise it or not - preconceived generalisations like “all rap sounds the same and i don’t like that sound” (wrong! there are SO many different styles & subgenres of rap and hip hop. there WILL be something out there that suits your taste) or “i won’t be able to understand what they’re saying, i have auditory processing disorder and they talk too fast” (not every song or rapper uses a super fast flow. and even if they did, websites like genius and azlyrics exist) or “all rap covers the same topics that i find unsavoury” (this one’s not only untrue but also the most overtly racist reasoning of the bunch). i’m sure you can imagine how unwelcome it is when people then get defensive in the notes trying to prove that actually they are The Exception who should get to be publicly absolved and excused from having to ever try and listen to a single rap song again.

anyway, i digress, but i hope this clarified a little why actually sometimes the best response to your initial knee jerk feeling of defensiveness is to take a deep breath, think it through offline, and then move on with your life without making it the op’s problem (which, due to the way tumblr’s notification system works, is what going on and on about this in their tags/replies/comments functionally does)

genuinely the average tumblr user’s ADDICTION to showing their ass under completely unnecessary circumstances is baffling to me. you see it every time the “white people on tumblr are by and large irrationally averse to listening to rap” discourse comes back around, every single post along those lines there will be at least one idiot disclosing their entire medical history or traumatic life story in the replies to prove that they are the One Person who is immune to criticism for being scawed of every rap song in existence. and i just can’t imagine the impulse behind it. like you are not under some fairy curse of compulsive truth telling every time you come online, you could literally just stay quiet and not reblog the post and nobody would notice, let alone care. it’s honestly laughably self important (not to mention a massive tell of your own defensiveness and guilt about the issue) to think “ah! but perhaps *i* am the person who could disprove this post’s entire thesis by explaining how i really, truly, cannot listen to rap because my auditory processing disorder only kicks in when it’s a black person talking over a beat to any flow or tempo”

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 - 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

This is a quick little Valentine's Day fic for Zoro! Short and sweet (pun intended,) but I loved writing it. I have a few other things I'll be trying to post leading up to Valentine's Day, but at the very least I've managed to get this out. I may end up editing it after the fact as I usually do.

CW: SFW, strong language, alcohol, tsundere-ish Zoro, female reader

~2k words

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“I hate chocolate.” 

“Good. These aren't for you, anyway.”

Zoro grumbles under his breath as he follows you out of the little confectionery shop, begrudgingly holding a bag of various chocolates. He's never been a fan of sweets, not at all, not even a little. So when you dragged him inside on the one day you have off the ship, he was a little annoyed, to say the least. 

“What, so you bought this many for yourself?” He asks. His steps keep in time with yours as he walks beside you, careful not to lose you in the crowd.

“Nope. For the crew.” You explain, peeking into the bag you carry. “I thought it'd be nice to get everyone something since it's almost Valentine's Day.”

Shit. Zoro knew he was forgetting something. 

“Right. Valentine's Day.” Zoro mumbles, glancing down at the bag again. 

God, how could he forget? Everyone's been babbling about chocolates, roses, festivities, and the cook has certainly been the worst offender, asking every woman aboard if they'd be his Valentine. Somewhere between his training, their fights at sea, and taking naps with you, he lost track of time. His eyes remain locked on the bag of chocolates, and just as he's trying to push the strange blend of feelings from his mind, he feels you tugging on his arm. In his train of thought, he'd started veering off the opposite way. 

“Whoa, there. Ship's this way, Mossy.” You say in your goddamn adorably teasing tone. It makes him clench his jaw. 

“Yeah, I know. And don’t call me that.” Zoro responds curtly, bristling with annoyance. 

It just makes you laugh. 

“Whatever you say.”

---

Zoro stares at you from across the deck, watching you hand chocolates to your crewmates. Luffy's confused at first, then overjoyed; Usopp’s awkward, then grateful; Franky's making his stupid poses; Nami's taking it off your tab; Robin's thanking you; Brook's asking to see your panties; Chopper's wiggling and grinning; Sanji's nose is bleeding; blah blah blah. All the same antics, the same lines, yet all Zoro is focused on is that look on your beautiful face as you give out your Valentine's chocolates. Your eyes light up with every ‘thank you,’ every hug, and all Zoro can do is think about how the hell he forgot about Valentine's Day. 

But it's too late now, isn't it? The ship has already left the port and he didn't buy any flowers or gifts. He sucks at making cards, expressing his feelings, baking cookies - basically, anything that could make a decent Valentine. Then there's the most troubling part of all. Is he even your Valentine? Does it even matter?

You've been dating each other for somewhere around two months now. That doesn't necessarily mean that you're Valentine's, though. Nothing was ever said, neither of you asked the other, and at this point, he's not even sure how to bring it up. It seems rather obvious to him that you'd be each other's Valentine's, but that's what makes it even more frustrating - what seems obvious to Zoro isn't always obvious to others. Sometimes he's exhausted being surrounded by so many idiots (though he refuses to admit that he’s one of them.)

But not you. You're the idiot he doesn't get tired of. But, god, why did it have to be chocolates? Valentine's Day has always seemed like some kind of worthless, annoying day where everyone just gives out candy and useless junk as an excuse to make out. Making out, Zoro can handle - sweets, not so much. But then there's you, who's all sugar and spice and everything nice. The antithesis of what he's supposed to like, but your attitude has proven irresistibly charming to the stoic swordsman. 

The way your smile beams across the ship could end wars, call ships away from danger, light up the moonless sky as it so often has when you've been on watch together. It's damn near impossible to deny how much he loves to see that look on your face, and even more irritating that currently he's not the one that put it there. So, chocolates. Zoro can't do that. But that smile? He'll maim, kill, and die for it. He reasons that maybe there's a simpler way. 

---

You're a little skeptical when your boyfriend asks you to come up to the crow’s nest in the middle of the night. Hell, neither of you is assigned watch and it's well past your usual hours for training. Usually, this late at night, Zoro's fast asleep in his hammock if he's not tucked into your bed with you. So, what gives?

“Just shut up and trust me.” He chides, his tone slightly irritated but mostly playful. Well, that's Zoro.

As you follow him out onto the deck, the cool night air hits the exposed skin from your pajamas. The stars are beautiful, glittering above in a way that's almost distracting, but you don't linger your gaze on them for too long. Instead, you stay closely behind Zoro, your arms crossed over your chest long enough to keep some semblance of warmth. The journey up the crow’s nest is longer than you'd like given the temperature and your sleepy mind, but you swear you can almost smell something weird wafting down from the open door hatch. 

It's not only until you peek inside that you recognize the scent of lavender, and through the candlelight, you recognize a large blanket, several pillows, a bottle of sake, and some kind of food on a few plates. As you're trying to register what you're looking at, Zoro pulls your hand gently to assist you up the rest of the way. 

“What is this?” You ask, and the way your lips curl into a smile makes Zoro's heart stutter. 

He lets go of your hand, walking across the planks of the crow’s nest to his makeshift picnic. It’s a romantic setup that took him all evening, and he can recall the several conversations he had with himself to try to figure out something to throw together. He’s a little satisfied with himself - smug, even - but he maintains his usual demeanor for now. Zoro doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, after all.

“Well, what does it look like?” Zoro responds in his classic, gruff tone. “Made you a picnic. Since it's Valentine's Day and all that.”

Your eyes glance around the candles, and while the setup is fairly simple, you can't deny the wonder you feel at the sight. Never once had you expected anything like this from Zoro. Quite truthfully, you thought he would have forgotten or written off the whole thing as stupid. Taking a few careful steps, your gaze finally glances back up at him. 

“Where did you…I mean, food and candles? I really didn't…”

Zoro hums, and his lips finally quirk up into a cocky smile for a moment. He couldn’t keep that smug feeling aside for long, especially when your eyes light up the way they do.

“Candles are from Robin, and I owe Nami for tricking the cook into getting us some snacks.” He responds before his eye flicks back up to yours. “You like it?”

“Like it? This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.” You grin, and you move to close the space between you two. It makes Zoro's heart stutter yet again. 

“Really? Is the bar that low?” Zoro replies with an amused huff. “Didn't think it was all that impressive. I pulled it together sorta last minute when I realized Valentine's Day meant so much to you.”

“It doesn’t.” You respond quickly, and you let out a laugh at Zoro’s shocked expression. So, you elaborate. “I mean, I like Valentine’s Day because it’s an excuse to express how much people mean to me. But the holiday itself doesn’t make or break anything. I wasn’t expecting you to actually care about it, which is why I never said anything.”

Zoro seems contemplative for a moment, his eye trailing carefully over to the makeshift picnic. He lets out a huff, one hand resting casually on his sword, the other against his thigh. 

“Of course I don’t care about Valentine’s Day.” He says, almost snapping. Guess you struck a nerve. “It’s a stupid holiday designed for people like that love cook to hit on women. I didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day ‘till you bought all that candy.”

Despite his harsh tone, you can’t help but smile a bit wider at his response. He seems irritated, and likely just because he was in his own head about it. And god, that smile you give him…

“But I care about you, moron. That’s why I threw this together.”

Zoro sits down on one of the blankets, patting a pillow next to him for you to join. You don’t hesitate, and as you sit down you watch as Zoro grabs the bottle of sake and pulls the cork out with his teeth. He spits it aside, taking a long swig of it. If the candles weren’t so dim, you might have been able to notice the way the tips of his ears light up red. 

“I already told you that this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me. You don’t have to feel weird about doing it just because I wasn’t expecting it.” You finally speak up, a hand moving to rest on his forearm. “Seriously, I appreciate this. It’s honestly really…sweet.”

Zoro takes his free hand holding the bottle of sake, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a sigh. He’s definitely embarrassed, but that sweet tone of yours makes something in his chest feel lighter. 

“Yeah, well…I don’t normally do sweet. You know that.” Zoro says, setting the bottle of sake down between the both of you. And he knows that you know that - hell, you probably know him better than most people. “Just felt like now that we’re dating, I wanted to see you…have a good Valentine’s Day.”

“For someone who claims to hate sweet, you’re very good at it. Thank you, Zoro.” You reply, leaning against him just a little bit. The skin-to-skin contact makes Zoro heat up a bit, and when you lean in closer, you can’t contain the small giggle that leaves you. “But I feel like I should let you know that Valentine’s Day isn’t for another few days.”

Zoro’s expression drops once again, and that stupid annoying feeling of irritation fills him. His head snaps in your direction, and he visibly bristles. It makes you laugh.

“Dammit! Why the hell were you giving everyone chocolates so early then, woman?” 

“Because I didn’t want them to go bad! Plus, I’m horrible with surprises. I get too impatient.” You laugh again, and that laugh somehow both irritates and soothes Zoro. He’ll never understand the effect you have on him.

Grumbling, he grabs the bottle of sake again. Before he can bring it to his lips, though, your hand moves up to his chin, gently pulling it so that he looks right at you. With a grin, you lean forward and press your lips tenderly against his. That irritation in him is gone, and his eye slowly shuts as he feels you both melt into the kiss. Goddamn, Zoro hates sweets, but the taste of your lips against his is addicting. His chest aches when the kiss breaks, but your lips linger against one another.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You murmur.

[spiderfunkz]

MEET ME IN GWANGMYEONG

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. inspired heavily by the movie "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind", memory-erasing procedure, established relationship, the use of 'y/n', angst, bittersweet ending.

author's note: eternal sunshine of the spotless mind is my favorite movie ever. reblogs and likes help a lot! the hyun-ju fandom is dying as we speak.. i have a few requests i need to get done, so it might take some time.

it's been a week and three days since hyun-ju's disappearance.

you're worried sick, you've filed a missing persons report, but shortly after, the case was shut cold. she disappeared without a trace, no letter, no text on where she might've went, no call, no nothing. it was like she was never with you to begin with, she was like a blurry dream that was too good to be true.

you couldn't endure anymore of this sadness, the memories were driving you crazy— she cared about you, you knew that. she's spent so much time with you, the dates with her don't feel real anymore, you wondered if she was still even out there. the chances are slim, and day by day, you lose hope.

lacuna inc. was just around the corner, as deep as you are in debts, you had some change. this procedure was worth it.

it's simple, and yes, it does technically count as brain damage, but it couldn't be worse than the sleepless nights you've spent, with bottles of soju, and hyun-ju's picture nearby.

you would come in wednesday, come again thursday, and the procedure should be done by thursday night. you've booked the first briefing appointment, they told you to gather all the items you have that resemble hyun-ju— even in the slightest, it needs to be gotten rid of.

does it hurt? absolutely. you stared blankly at the two huge boxes in front of you, it was filled with everything hyun-ju has ever given to you, every single letter she has written from the depths of her heart, all the clothes you've shared together— even the first skirt she bought with you. it seems impossible, but you keep reminding yourself that it would be for the better, is this what people call gaslighting?

it took you a moment to erase her texts. there was one text before she left. it was from you, telling her to come home early because you cooked her favorite meal. aw, how sad, you hit the delete button.

thursday felt suffocating. you felt like you were stuck in the corner of your tiny bathroom, huddled up, knees bent and hugged by your chest. it didn't matter how big the room for the appointment was, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

you came home and slept like a baby. you thought to yourself, you'll wake up a new person. for the better, definitely. at this point, no, you didn't consider any other negatives of this. it was too late anyways, it's been paid, and it's far too late to go back.

the birds chirp, signaling the sun rising.

you wake up according to your alarm, it reads, "7 am, go to work."

you do. you get ready, put on your best clothes, simple makeup, hair done like you've always done it— at least from what you remember, for some reason, you forgot how to braid your hair. even though you swore, it was braided every morning.

whatever, you probably had a weird dream. that's all.

left corner, turn, straight, go right. why couldn't you recall your steps to work correctly? you felt cold, you had your coat on. there was a sort of absence lingering in your chest. you can't pinpoint what it was exactly. maybe you just forgot something at home.

at least the day went by fast. you were excited to go back home and take a nice bath. it felt oddly empty, did you sell your furniture? you shrugged it off, but then you heard a knock. sounded familiar, like a wave of déjà vu just hit you.

you peeped through the peep-hole before opening.

"hello? may i help you?" what a poor sight you were seeing. a woman was standing, rather helplessly, at your front door. she was holding a card, you don't know what it is exactly. there were two of them. one had shapes on them, and one had a tiny 'lacuna inc.' writing.

did you go to work with her? maybe she was another passerby you see often, or someone you went to school with. either way, she looked at you with pure fright and confusion. what a strange combination for a.. stranger.

"what?" her voice rasps, "y/n?"

"how do you know my name? sorry, do i know you?"

[contamination-zone]

warning im a yapper

hello ummm just wanted to say!!! i really like the dynamic you give fresh and nightmare/color with the whole “cat who goes to different houses to get fed twice” thing. nightmare and his weird cat that he has probably locked in a basement a few times. color and this guy he picked off the road because he looks weird and decided he can solve this mess. fresh does not have any strong personal feelings towards either of them.

i very much so like the comic thing where nightmare and ccino were talking about fresh and ccino thought he was a kitten cat,,, no he is not but he acts like one. “he keeps crawling on my lap” that is a grown man get him away!!!! he has a dog cage i think that he is put in sometimes for naughty behavior. he doesn’t really care because he’s allowed his gameboy though. do you think nightmare ever sprays him with water when he does something bad. and this is like a grown adult. what

maybe i just like the trope of dehumanization (bonus if with someone who’s weirdly chill with it like fresh) but whatever,,, your art!!!! it gives me life!!! i very much enjoy the pixely type style and how freak you draw fresh. he’s a fucking creature he is. something is wrong with that guy. and i love him soooo much. so creature. he’s the kind of guy to do that thing where you walk on all fours up the stairs.

AND the way you characterize him is!!!! so good!!!!!!!!! he is so fucked up and weird and terrible and manipulative!!!!!!! he takes advantage of others’ empathy and feelings because he has very little of it himself and whenever he does feel it he does not like it!!!!!!! he looks at a guy with a savior complex and goes yeah i can mentally fuck him up for the next seven months to get something cool i want. he’s just actually terrible and i love him for that.

i also!!! don’t know too much about CB but i feel that fresh’s dynamic with them (him?? i forgor) is very interesting from what i have seen!!!!!! and their shimeji is very cute i still need to download it but i like it a lot :3

OKAY UHHH BYE!!!!! I LIKE UR ART A LOT…… HAVE A GOOD DAY!!!!!! 10/10 fresh posting on your blog love him a lot he is my wife (he feels nothing towards me)

THANK YOU!!! I see you mass reblog things sometimes it makes me giggle :-]

I yammer back...

Glad you like the dynamics haha X] Fresh having very little personal feelings about people is fun and interesting to me. As someone who has trouble connecting and low empathy, its nice to depict someone like me. [Guy interacting with people who are a Lot more invested than he is ghghg]

Fresh would only accept being put in the cage because he can teleport out. Anything like that is only for the Aesthetic, which I think Nightmare would still be down for. Shove that thang into some awful little crate, as a treat. [Honestly I think Fresh would like to get in some nice dog crate with a blankie. Small hide / den thing to nap in :-]]

ALSOOOO dehumanization and freak who doesn't mind is my favorite dynamic <333. Fresh doesn't mind because... he isn't a monster? or a human? And he doesn't have a human/monster centric view of the world. Being seen as a human/monster isn't in anyway important to him, because he doesn't seen it as better/worse. He is the way he is, why does it matter?

Its like, I don't think a cat has very strong opinions on the fact it isn't a man. I also think Fresh is incredibly self-centered and when he's on a high point, sees himself as above humans/monsters. Of course he's not seen as human, he's Fresh! he's a sick-nasty parasite! way cooler. [annnddd way cooler that he gets to eat dog-treats. heck yeah!!]

Also I drew up a little thing with CB and Fresh. Its ahh, I like them a lot I just get nervous speaking about them because its suuuch a oc & canon are besttties that it makes me feel a bit cringe... I also get nervous because CB and Fresh have a very, toxic?? friendship.

Fresh is very possessive and strange about it, because this is his Only friend and he has very dysregulated emotions. Not being able to feel positive emotions often makes it so when he does, he gets very odd about it. So its a lot of... trying to keep CB to himself, at the detriment to CB's goals and ambitions. [CB is trying to track his family down, and Fresh uh. knows. where they are. and is not telling him :-)]

I dunno I think Fresh being genuinely friends with someone but also an awful person about it is like, sorely missing from the fandom landscape. He's a bad person but bad people can still form meaningful relationships and!!! I think that should be explored :-]

[They do eventually get somewhere more healthy. As in, Fresh's whole Thing is revealed, a lot of shinanigans happen, CB lives with his family and Fresh and CB reconnect and become friends again, just with like. Fresh trying actively to do "good person things" to make sure CB's family doesn't shoo him off [I ADOREEE good actions for morally ambiguous reasons!!!], and CB with the understanding that his best friend is Kinda a Freak.]

[kermdoeswriting]

This was supposed to be a one-off thing but these reblogs inspired more so...

Also to answer ur question Roni would absolutely be petty enough to pull out a file to shut up her less than savory and judgmental co-workers. The kids are always put first regardless of background.

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

Roni got her answer on the bet about two weeks later. After her initial home visit to see how the twins were doing in Wayne Manor.

Even if it was never outright said aloud, just watching the way the family interacted with Ellie and Danny told her enough. Though the solo interviews with each kid did solidify it.

"So Danny," Roni watched as Danny nervously taped the side of his knee, half interested in what Roni had to say and half interested in the doorway that Ellie and the Wayne siblings had just exited through. "Before we start, I just have to make you aware that nobody is allowed to listen into this conversation and that whatever you say is completely protected between you and me."

Danny just nodded along to Roni's word, eyes still on the doorway before breaking off to look at her fully.

"Got it. Hit me with the questions, Roni."

Roni let out a small smile, shaking her head at him before flipping through her notebook to an empty page.

"How has it been living in the Wayne manor so far? Has Bruce been treating you nicely?"

Danny only shrugs as if that was his final answer. "He and Alfred have been kind. A little too Richie Rich if you ask me but other than that they treat Ellie nicely and that's all I care about honestly"

Roni feels her sympathy for the boy (and her own hesitance) return as she writes his answer within her notes but it escapes out of her like an amused snort.

"They tend to come off that way most times. Between you and me though?" She leaned a bit more to whisper. "I think Bruce just likes to spoil his kids with his riches to impress them and it just rubbed off with each one he adopted afterwards."

Danny snorted at that, eyes twinkling in his own amusement as he nodded along with her theory.

"Anyways, How about the Wayne Kids? Have they come around to introduce themselves to you two yet?"

"Some of them have, like Damian. He came home from summer camp earlier in the week. He's pretty cool, sarcastic to all hell, but cool." Roni hums and bites her cheek at the mention of the smallest Wayne. When she had first placed Duke into the Wayne's care, she had her doubts on how Damian would react since Gotham knew he had a short-temper with most things.

But now the two were packed together like a pack of sardines any time she saw them, so she wasn't too surprised Damian got along with the twins. It was probably the feral behavior the twins displayed that made them click.

"I also got to meet Cass, Dick, and Jason yesterday. Dick kept teasing us 4 for being like double twins. Calling us the quadruplets or something, Jason just smacked the back of his head and called him an asshole."

She couldn't help but smile at the mention of her past foster cases. Roni tended to try and remember every single kid that went through her care and office, so it wasn't hard to picture the three doing something like that around new company.

Although she would have to remind Bruce about excessive language amongst the kids, even if they were 13 respectively the law didn't really see it as appropriate behavior to show around fosters.

From there, the interviews went smoothly with them both and Roni honestly had nothing new to report for their files except for excellent care as it usual was. And, just as she guessed, a request towards looking into possible adoption within the Wayne household for both Phantoms.

Bruce had been quick to pull her side before she left to make the request, eyes looking fondly towards the twins play fighting with Jason, Tim and Stephanie (from what Roni remembered for the last one). Ellie sassing them as Jason cackled on the sidelines and Danny snorting in amusement, arms crossed.

When Roni looked back into Bruce Wayne's pleading eyes, begging her to look into starting the adoption process she just sighed fondly and nodded. Who was she to deny the richest man in Gotham's adoption addiction?

She called it 3 weeks ago anyways when she dropped them off. And heaven knows that twice the amount for the bet would do nicely towards a new car battery.

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

As Roni got back into her office that night later than she had even planned to be, she was pleasantly surprised to find a few things inside that hadn't been there before she'd left to check in on each of her fosters.

One of them was Red Hood, who was awkwardly standing there staring at her through his red helmet with a handful of familiar looking stickers in hand. Both of them were silent for a moment before Roni decided to save him the embarrassment and simply back out of the office room to allow him a graceful escape.

She did not get paid enough to deal with that situation. Not in Gotham anyways.

When she re-entered the room, Red Hood having disappeared silently, Danny and Ellie's files sat right at the top of her desk first and foremost.

A few different stickers greeted her this time.

Robin and Co. stickers, Red-Hoods stuck out like a sore thumb as it covered over Nightwing's at least half way as some sort of petty move, and one largely placed Batman one were now on the outside of both files, to let her know they were now watching over the kids and were Robin approved.

That alone put her at ease.

To know that the Bat was taking some time to look into the sketchy meta-trafficking ring the twins were found at was like getting an early Christmas present.

They would be even safer now beyond being in Bruce's care and she knew that even if Bruce never did end up adopting the twins (which she doubted heavily) they were at the very least a good influence on them from what she'd seen today.

That and the twins would probably never be able to really get rid of the Wayne's. Not really, anyways.

Most Robin approved files didn't really leave the Manor without getting adopted into it first.

Bruce Wayne's a Foster Parent. Also he avoids death a lot so a dead person can usually tell if a humans meant to have died but didn't.

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

"Bruce you know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to but-"

Bruce just sighed from his side of the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nobody ever really expects to get a phone call nearing 3 am but exceptions had to be made when you were a legal foster parent and also a part-time secret super hero. If it wasn't one thing calling for him it was the other.

On the other side of the phone, Bruce heard the caseworker, Roni, chuckle.

"It's just for 3 nights and half of the day after, but I need you to be prepared for something before I can pass them off to you."

Bruce sat upright now on his bed, attentively listening to her words. Usually the kids didn't really come with any pre-warnings from the Caseworker themselves, letting anything about each Foster kid be said inside of their personal files that got sent along with them.

But when she gave out this information it was usually important. The last time Bruce had gotten a warning like this it was for Jason which was ages ago it feels at this point.

"What is it?"

"The kids are-" Her voice trailed off, like as if she was still searching for the right words to say. "They've been through what I can honestly only describe as the equivalent to a meta-kid trafficking lab"

Bruce shifted as he heard the driving continue on the other side of the phone.

"They're very guarded because of what they went through and they might display.. unusual behavior. More unusual then a meta-kids behavior after such a situation would be, but don't let it fool you! The kids are really sweet beyond being afraid."

Bruce frowns at the descriptions before replying to her, mentally trying to prepare himself for the idea of these kids and what they might have went through.

"I'll make a note of it then. Thank you, Roni"

"No, thank you, Bruce. I really appreciate this last minute placement. We'll be by really soon"

He was left with a click as he removed himself off his bed and threw the covers to the side of him. Alfred would want to know that they would have 2 new guests in the manor, at the very least to greet them and have rooms prepared even if they didn't need to have them prepared further then what they already were.

It was less then 5 minutes later that Bruce found himself, with Alfred, greeting the temporary fosters at the front door. Roni looked tiredly at them as she pushed the kids front and center.

Bruce could relate heavily.

"Hello Danny, Ellie. It's nice to meet you both, I'm Bruce Wayne."

Danny just stared at the mans outstretched hand for a second before he turned to look up at him, a pinched look on his face. Ellie matched his expression, although being a bit more subtle about it as she looked over Bruce as a whole.

Eerily, Bruce felt like his very soul was being judge the longer the kids stared at him. He also felt a sense of familiarity with these two kids the longer this continued.

They seemed detached rather than afraid like their caseworker had explained earlier, more so viewing the world as if they were outside of it rather then in it in any way.

Danny was quick to glare at him after another moment, "You're a fruit-loop, aren't you?"

Ellie broke from her own scanning almost immediately when she heard Danny's comment, cackling beside him before shoving him off with her arm. The action made Bruce smile as he took his arm back and placed it by his side.

Alfred also looked amused between the pair of siblings before turning attention to the task at hand again. Bruce just smiled at his pseudo-fathers usual fondness over children, knowing he was being reminded of his own grandchildren.

"This is Alfred. He's going to be the one to show you over to your rooms for the next few nights." Alfred greeted the kids in the same polite way he usually greeted all guests before he leaned down and extended his hands towards their belongings. He didn't grab their belongings just remained leaning over them before questioning the kids if they would like help to take their stuff to their rooms.

Bruce only really saw it faintly and if it were any other moment he might have ignored it as a sleepless hallucination, but for some reason he noticed the change immediately. The twins eyes go from a darker blue to a flashing bright green.

As if alarmed by the sudden movement towards their belongings.

Danny was quick to catch his own staring as well, eyes flashing back to blue for only a second before reverting back to green. Almost as if to give off some kind of warning.

Ellie noticed his staring immediately and shoved Danny again, this time more forceful for his attention before turning to whisper something to him when she had him back.

Bruce felt his skin crawl before turning away to face their caseworker, not really understanding anything they were saying beyond hearing a few words and feeling their eyes look between each other and his back.

Death Touched was an especially new description, and one that stuck in his head the second he heard it.

Bruce waited until the kids were guided away by Alfred before talking to their caseworker officially and waking her up from her half delirious tired drop-off.

"Hey Roni? Is there any chance we can extend the Fenton kids stay?"

There was something going on here with these kids and he was going to get to the bottom of it. One way or another.

[totallybakedcake]

"Of course!"

You saw your friends, your only family, die in front of you.

It repeated again and again. Their deaths, the blood, the pain, and the trauma.

Everything was too tough, every single thing reminded you of the incident.

How you all crashed out in your home and how they convinced you to become a hunter.

Going on trips, shopping, eating out, being each other's emotional support, and whatnot.

It was terrifying, the monsters coming endlessly and blood being shed every other second. Your mind stopped, your body couldn't move, and everything was in a haze. By the time you were back to your senses.

Everyone dead.

It was pitiful, no one to go to, no one to call, no one to comfort you or get you back up on your feet.

Stomach pain, headache, body ache. It was getting to you, but not an inch did you move from the bed. Just replaying the scene over and over again.

But someone was watching this.

"How is she?" Jinwoo asked as he sat on the couch, he knew you were in pain, after all, he was the one sent to complete the dungeon after things went wrong.

He vividly recalls the scene. You were sitting there, eyes practically dead as there was a sea of blood and lots of bodies scattered everywhere. Jinwoo, at first thought you were dead by how lifelessly you sat there, not blinking or moving an inch.

He had to touch you to see if you were alive.

Beru, Jinwoo's shadow soldier, quickly came out to check. "She is alive, my liege, just unconscious while sitting."

Jinwoo felt angry, mad, upset, and guilty for not arriving earlier. He even can see the image of you having a panic attack over and over again when you woke up and heard everyone was dead. It reminded him of when his mother experienced the same panic attack when his dad went missing.

He wanted to check up on you, but it was weird, you both never talked, and suddenly he pops up to see your condition. Perhaps it was not too odd, but Jinwoo had his shadows, and he would much rather use them instead.

----

"My liege, lady (name) has not done anything but just lie on the bed and look out the window. She does not eat well or drink enough water. Her phone keeps going off, but she never picks it up."

Damnit, the situation is so terrible, and Jinwoo needs to help you. Whatever you think or others think, he just wants to help you.

Huff, you can do this, he encourages himself as he rings the doorbell.

One time

Two times

Three times

Four times

No answer.

"(Name), I know you are in there and are not okay, just let me come home, and I will not be trouble." He yells from outside and continues to ring the doorbell.

A loud groan escapes your lips as you get up lazily to open the door.

"Hunter Sung, please, I am not okay and-"

He barges inside and starts to work, taking out the groceries he has bought to make you a good big meal, his shadow soldiers make you sit on the sofa as they clean the mess your house is in.

"Excuse me, you cannot—" Jinwoo swiftly shushes you up, not letting you say anything as he asks you to go take a nice shower and not argue a single bit with him.

How can you describe this? Being forced to bathe and let a man you've never had a conversation with take care of you like a mom.

Jinwoo made you sit on the couch as you came out, grabbing your chin and making you eat stew.

No words were exchanged between both of you for a good while. Well, words were not needed, so why talk?

Both of you knew that this was great, you liked it how Jinwoo took care of you, and Jinwoo enjoyed taking care of you.

After chewing, you both ask at the same time.

"Do you want to stay?" "Can I stay here for a while?"

"Of course!" Both of you replied energetically.

First of all I want to give credits to @kgymz for the adorable divider. Thank you, I love this.

I actually wanted to do a valentine series (which i mentioned in my other fic) but writer's block hit and i couldnt do it but i had another jinwoo fic planned which now might take a while to upload but anyways this makes me think if im going to do an event, should i start 2 months prior so that i can upload them even if i get a writer's block in between?