#can’t be harder than running a company and he’s already done that

[niningtori]

mad about you | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you, delusions of kang taehyun x you

summary: beomgyu is not only a spoiled, rich asshole whose whole life has been served to him on a silver platter, but he's also your student council vice president. things finally come to a head on your final trip as college students, but not in the way you would expect. or, beomgyu catches you, the student council president, smoking weed and tries to blackmail you for it

genre: romance, angst (only a tiny bit...? shocking i know), fluff (kinda...? shocking i know), SMUT (MDNI!!!), sub!idol, beomgyu enemies to lovers

warnings: bad writing, not proofread at all, smut (MDNI!!!), sub!gyu LMAOOOO, marijuana, dirty talk, praise, handjobs, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 7.1k

notes: please... this took MONTHS for me to write i fear i am the worst request taker on moablr. this was really difficult for me to complete but alas... it is done. if you hate it, my fault! just please don't bully me i've got enough shit going on in my life rn 💀 i hate it too but that's okay!

being a straight-a student is hard. being the student government president? even harder. being both? hell on earth. but now, in your senior year of college, you’ve finally managed to get it down to a science. things run relatively smoothly, which is due in no small part to the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve put in to make the student body happy, never mind the lengths you've gone to for the faculty. you can confidently say you can cope with nearly every trial and tribulation that comes your way with a smile on your face. well, except for one recurring disaster: beomgyu.

at first, he was nothing more to you than a pest buzzing around for no real purpose other than to mildly annoy you. it was strange because he seemed normal at first, but then he would pick on your looks, every time you made a mistake in class, and even how you happened to wear your hair that day. this was annoying and, well, hurtful. still, it was of no real consequence, so you were able to ignore him when that was the case, but now you know better than to underestimate just how disastrous beomgyu’s presence can be. as the student government vice president, he should be your first and most trusted ally, but he’s nothing short of, for lack of a better term, a major asshole deadset on making your life even more difficult than it already is for reasons unknown to you.

you think it may be because you would have probably beaten him for the actual president’s chair, which led him to run for vice president, instead. you don’t know why he minds this, though, because he couldn’t seem to care less about the council, not to mention school in general. it’s not that he gets bad grades, because he doesn’t. in fact, when he gets called on in class, he always gets the answer right even when he clearly wasn’t paying any attention. still, you work twice as hard as anyone else and yet your grades are only rivaled by his own. even taehyun, your (probably unrequited) crush, can’t help but be beaten by beomgyu as if the hand of god itself smacks down on everyone else every time you all take a test. 

getting good grades should be an admirable thing, right? it helps with potential internships and jobs and all that, but the thing is: beomgyu doesn't need any of it. even if he fails all of his classes, he's set for life as the son of a formidable CEO of a company whose profits are more than you could ever dream of attaining. there is absolutely no doubt that beomgyu will succeed him, and there is even less doubt that he'll undeniably be very, very good at it. what’s worse is that even if he failed to meet expectations, he’d still get the position, anyway. 

that, in comparison with your family’s laughable financial circumstances, would be enough to make you secretly hate the boy just on principle; but jealousy is ugly, no doubt, so you’ve kept your feelings to yourself. you would have fallen into a pit of self-loathing and guilt had beomgyu actually been kind, and you may have even grown to like him if that were the case, but no. beomgyu is not kind. he’s a total prick. you see it in his smug little smile when the test papers get handed back and he annihilates everyone — other than you — in class, especially taehyun. you see it in the smirks he sends you when you catch him making out with whoever his new girlfriend of the week happens to be, and in the way he openly mocks you by calling you a prude in front of the entire student population. and most importantly, you see it in the way he watches you struggle to stay afloat while he cruises on by without a care in the world.

-

honestly? beomgyu knows better than to bully the girl he has a crush on just because he wants her attention, but who told you to make it so damn hard on him? it’s not like he didn’t consider being nice at first, but your aloofness to his charms only caused him to believe that he was nearly invisible to you, and he simply wouldn't stand for that. naturally, the best course of action was to get you to hate him — at least that means you’re actually paying attention to him. that’s what he tells himself as he’s sticking one of his spindly legs out as you walk past him, effectively tripping you in the process and making the entire class erupt into laughter. your nostrils flare as your head whips up to meet his condescending gaze. once again, your eyes are completely on him. check and mate.

that's what it feels like, at least, until you’re hurriedly pulled up by a concerned taehyun and he’s frantically asking if you’re alright while fixing up your (now) fucked up hair. your eyes, which were just brimming with anger and contempt for him, are now overflowing with lovesickness and infatuation for the other boy. well, never mind about the whole “checkmate” thing, it’s like beomgyu doesn’t even exist in the same world as you anymore.

-

“you need to relax,” taehyun says, gently closing the notebook in front of you and sliding over a few of your favorite snacks. 

“th-thank you, tyun,” you reply, shyly. he grins when he sees he’s succeeded in distracting you.

“no problem, we wouldn’t want that pretty little head of yours to break from thinking too much, now would we?” he teases. you feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. he doesn’t really mean them, he never does, but that doesn’t stop your heart from racing when he says things like this to you. 

having a crush on taehyun is only natural. that’s what you tell yourself, but the way you have a shrine dedicated to notes he’s passed you and polaroids you’ve taken together sitting prettily in your room is most definitely unnatural. he doesn’t need to know about that, though.

“my head’s not going to break,” you huff with a playful roll of your eyes. “i just need to finish outlining the major stops on the trip and i’ll be done, i promise.” 

it’s true that all you have to do is outline where you’re going to stop on the council’s senior trip, which doesn’t sound like a big deal in theory, but in actuality, you have to clear each stop with the faculty and make sure you stay within the budget in spite of beomgyu’s insufferable attempts to exceed it. he’s made light of the finances and talked up special events to the rest of the council members, even taehyun. you tried to snuff out these suggestions with realistic arguments about how expensive it will be, but his response was to call you a killjoy. simple and straightforward, but effective, nonetheless. everyone, even taehyun, was so excited to try everything he hyped up, so how could you say no when taehyun turned to you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and practically begged you to relent? you, unfortunately, didn’t and don’t have the heart to deny him, so you caved, and now you’re stuck trying to figure it all out. 

“you promise?” taehyun asks, snapping you out of your spiral, with his cute cat-like fangs showing ever so slightly.

“i promise,” you nod and he cheers triumphantly. again, you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm, and you’d bask in the moment if your gaze didn’t happen to catch beomgyu’s scrutinizing one at this very moment. he looks at you like he’s watching a monkey putting on a show, and your happiness is instantly replaced with a sense of embarrassment. you’ve never told a single soul about your feelings for taehyun, but eerily enough, beomgyu seems to know something the rest of the world does not. he seems well aware of your deepest secret. why he doesn’t just expose you in order to humiliate you, you have no idea, but you do know you don't like how much he knows.

-

you really, really shouldn’t be doing this. and certainly not here, of all places, but you just can’t help it. smoking weed is terrible for you, and you of all people should know, seeing as how you led a presentation on its ill effects in front of the entire student body in your freshman year. but it’s hard to truly care when you’re wound so tightly you feel like you’re about to burst. 

beomgyu is getting his way again, as always, and you’re worried about having to make yet another last minute change to your trip’s itinerary for tomorrow because he called today’s stop boring, which led to the rest of the council silently agreeing. so here you sit on the top of the hotel building as the rest of the group are out sightseeing, taking a long, lung-scorching drag from the blunt in between your fingers. 

“didn’t take you for the smoking type, madame president,” a voice cuts in from out of nowhere. beomgyu. fuck. 

you try to keep your cool, but you end up choking on the smoke as you hurriedly go to flick the blunt away, but beomgyu’s hand grabs your wrist before you can quite make it there. his touch feels like a brand searing itself into your skin, but you’re too overstimulated to notice. 

“i didn’t tell you you had to stop,” he muses condescendingly as you rip your wrist away from his grasp. he winces. you don't catch it. instead, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the presumption that he has the power to tell you to do anything.

“i’m not one of your little minions,” you snap in spite of yourself. “quit acting like you can boss me around.” 

“is that so?” he questions, not without an air of smugness. alarm bells blare in your ears as you try to sniff out where his confidence is coming from. sure, he caught you smoking, but it’s your word against his. that’s right, there’s no need to be scared. if he says anything at all, you can just feign innocence and say you were the one who caught him sneaking out to smoke.

“yep,” you answer with a grin at your new plan, popping the “p” with the same obnoxiousness he usually terrorizes you with. you’re no match for him in terms of popularity, but you will never lose to him when it comes to credibility.

“you’re not afraid that i’ll snitch on you? you’re not scared of me telling everyone how little-miss-perfect spends her alone time?” 

“you can try,” you reply with a shrug. he’s silent for a few moments, as if he’s in deep thought. 

“you know what? you’re right,” he concedes with a sigh, and shockingly so. the beomgyu you know and loathe would never give up that easily. “you don’t have to listen to what i say. nobody would believe me over you, right?” 

you eye him suspiciously before giving a slight nod.

“and most times, you would be absolutely right. like, just imagine if i told them you faked being sick and flaking on everyone else just so you could get high. nobody would believe me. i wouldn’t even believe me,” he continues. you have no idea why he’s going on and on about this, but you don’t like it. 

“what the hell are you playing at?” you ask through clenched teeth. 

“i mean, i’m just saying that nobody would believe me. not unless i showed them something like, i don’t know, this?” he says with a grin, holding up his phone and showing you an alarmingly high resolution photo of you taking a hit of your blunt. your eyes widen in sheer horror and you immediately jump to try to retrieve his phone from his hands, but beomgyu is quicker. he tauntingly holds it up in the air with one arm and stops you from coming any closer with the other. you try to jump to reach it, but you’re no match for his stature and long limbs. damn him for being so fucking tall.

“delete it!” you shriek, but all he does is click his tongue and shake his head like the insufferable asshole he is. 

“oh, sure,” he says nonchalantly. your eyes widen even further as he lowers his phone and fiddles with the screen, still keeping you at arm’s length so you’re helpless to grab it for yourself.

“r-really?” you ask incredulously, sincerely taken aback by his compliance. stupid, stupid you. he tuts in response.

“you don’t really think i’ll make it that easy, do you?”

“fine,” you relent, jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed in an almost comically exaggerated way. “what the hell do you want from me?”

“nothing much, just lemme smoke with you,” he answers with a lopsided grin, showcasing a dimple in his cheek you had never noticed until now.

“w-what?” you ask dazedly. 

“god, you’re slow,” he tells you with a roll of his eyes. “smoke with me and i’ll delete the picture. i won’t even mention it again.” 

“are you being serious?” you whisper. 

“dead serious,” he smirks. 

“... fine,” you find yourself relenting, yet again. you don’t know if you necessarily trust him to actually follow through with his words, but what choice do you have? why he wants to smoke with you, you have no idea, but if it gets him to keep his mouth shut, then you really can’t ask for much more than that.

you sigh and take a seat, walking over near the entrance of the rooftop and propping yourself up against the concrete wall behind you. surprisingly, he stays planted in the same spot as if he didn’t hear you. you pat the ground next to you impatiently in light of his hesitation. he snaps out of his daze as he sits next to you so tentatively it’s like you’re a stray cat he’s afraid to scare off. well, good. it’s best for him not to get too comfortable around you. you hate the guy, after all.

you take another deep inhale and he watches you with a gaze that can only be described as lovesick, but you’re too preoccupied to pick up on it. when you exhale, you find yourself starting to pass the blunt over to beomgyu before thinking better of it. 

“wait,” you say, pulling your hand back before he can grip the blunt. 

“what?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“am i gonna catch something from you if we share this?” 

“oh, fuck you,” he grunts, effectively snatching the blunt back and putting it to his lips.

“it’s a real question! i’ve seen the girls you mess around with, and i’m not trying to catch anything from you!” 

“i’m careful,” he argues with a roll of his eyes. “a lot more careful than you think.” you pout at his reaction, but for some reason, you believe his words. 

“if i catch anything, it's on you,” you reply, hackles still raised. shockingly, he doesn't press the matter any more than that. 

“... so,” he says after exhaling a deep drag. 

“so what?” you ask. 

“so why are you out here smoking instead of going out with everyone else?”

“do you seriously think you have the right to ask me that?” you scoff. there’s no way in hell beomgyu is trying to get you to be vulnerable right now.

on beomgyu’s end, he can’t help but feel slighted, even though your reaction is definitely his fault on account of how he essentially antagonizes you at every given opportunity. 

“i’m just saying that it’s weird how you’re here instead of, you know, actually enjoying the trip.” 

“oh, please. as if there was gonna be any possible way for me to have fun on this fucking thing,” you bitterly reply. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks without any malice, but with genuine curiosity.

truly, honestly, sincerely, you do not know why you say your next words. maybe it’s because you’re high, or maybe it’s because you need to tell someone — anyone — how you really feel, for once. all you really know is: you can’t stop yourself.

“i mean, how could i possibly enjoy myself when i’m left to figure everything out on my own? everyone only cares about having fun with no actual idea how we’ll do it while realistically staying within the budget and our timeline, and my vice president is deadweight, so it’s not like he’ll help,” you complain, taking a jab at beomgyu in light of your waning self control. you’re prepared to verbally spar with him after that last comment, but he surprises you.

“is that how you really feel?” he asks.

“yeah, it is,” you tell him. “that’s how i always feel,” you can’t help but add, more to yourself and less to him, but he hears you, anyway. 

“i’m sorry.” you whip your head around to make sure you’re not having some sort of auditory hallucination. did beomgyu just apologize to you? it can’t be. there’s no earthly way.

“i’m sorry. i really am,” he repeats. your whole world feels like it’s thrown off of its axis when you see how somber and genuinely apologetic he looks. 

“it’s… it’s fine,” is all you can really muster up the words to say. 

“no, it’s not. i’ll help you as much as i can, i swear,” he earnestly insists. you nod in bewilderment at his earnestness — feeling too awkward to do much else.

things are quiet for the next few minutes while you two are passing the blunt back and forth. beomgyu can feel the high finally hitting him in full force, and it takes every brain cell within his clouded mind (as well as every ounce of his courage) to finally get out his next sentence. 

“why him?” he mumbles so lowly, you don’t quite catch his words. 

“what?” you lazily ask. 

“why taehyun?” once again, you find yourself choking on the smoke. god, you’ve really got to get a grip and stop letting beomgyu surprise you — your lungs would thank you for it.

“w-what do you mean?” well, you always knew that beomgyu knows about your feelings for taehyun, but hearing him directly ask about them is enough to throw you off.

“i mean, why do you like him?” he asks, devoid of all the confidence he usually oozes. 

“what’s not to like?” you say offhandedly. if you cared enough to pay attention to his reaction, you’d see how he withers at your words. even more so when you continue.

“he’s really, really funny. plus, he’s handsome. not to mention smart and —” 

“so what? i’m all of those things,” beomgyu interrupts, irritation bitterly lacing every edge of his words. “and if you call him smart, anybody can be.” oh hell no. you’re so indignant at him calling taehyun stupid, you don’t even catch beomgyu’s childlike envy towards him, let alone why he feels it.

“just because his grades don’t compare to yours, doesn’t mean he’s stupid,” you argue.

“then what does it mean?” he asks with a roll of his eyes at your obvious bias for the other boy.

“it… it just means that he’s —” 

“a real genius. yeah, i’m sure you think so,” he snarks.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snap, despite your better judgment to just let it roll off of your back. if he were talking about you, you may very well have done so, but this is taehyun he’s talking about. your taehyun. 

“it means he can’t compare to me,” he says, more as means to convince himself rather than convince you, but you’re so angry, you don’t even notice.

“and what makes you think you’re so goddamn special?” you ask, sarcasm absolutely dripping out of your voice. 

“i’m funnier, hotter, smarter, richer. how can he compare to me?” he snorts. if someone were to ask you why you feel so defensive at this moment, you would be unable to say why, but if you had to guess, you’d say it’s because taehyun is so good it’s impossible to see him any other way. your frustration builds up, hotter and hotter in your chest until you’re on the brink of exploding.

“you say that, but he will always be something you’re not,” you spit.

“and what, pray tell, might that be?” he cockily challenges.

“nice,” you say with conviction, and it may be cheesy, but you mean it. “he is really, really fucking nice and considerate. that’s why i like him.” well, that one went straight to his gut.

“i can be nice!” he exclaims. “i tried to be nice, but you just didn’t care! it was like i was invisible to you!” all you can do is stare, but he’s not finished. “you act like you’re some fucking angel, but i saw the way you looked at me like i’m some stupid, rich asshole who isn’t worth a damn.” 

finally, you realize that something is wrong. 

“beomgyu, why do you even care about what i think about you?” he doesn’t give a fuck about what you have to say in any other context, today’s example being only the latest in the litany of times where he’s shown you that exact sentiment. 

at this, he’s silent, which you truly did not anticipate in lieu of his tirade mere moments ago. you take a good look at the boy, and you finally register that the tips of his ears are a bright red under the fluorescence of the lone light shining next to the doorway. 

“i just… i always care about what you think,” he mumbles, face growing redder and redder under your scrutinizing stare as he breaks eye contact with you.

“you could’ve fooled me,” you snort. “you’re always undermining everything i say and do. it’s almost like you’re doing it on… purpose…” you trail off, puzzle pieces finally fitting together in a way you would never suspect. 

“beomgyu?” you ask.

“mm?” he murmurs, still refusing to make eye contact. 

“do you… do you like me?” and the question sounds so silly you can’t believe you even asked it. this guy fucking hates you, you’re sure of it, but you grow less and less sure of this sentiment with every moment he hesitates to answer.

“... yeah. yeah, i do. but so what? you don’t even care,” he mopes, and just like that, everything makes sense. his teasing, his contrarian nature, and his obnoxiousness are just part of his ruse. he’s just like a child begging for attention by acting out, but to what end? just so you’ll pay attention to him? well, he was on the money when he said you didn’t like him even when he tried to be kind, so maybe, in his own sick little way, he was right. 

but that doesn’t mean you don't feel completely blindsided by this revelation. 

“what the hell?” is all you can manage to say.

“shut up!” he demands with no real heat to it, just embarrassment. 

“i… i can’t believe your solution was to be an asshole,” you say incredulously. “if you had just been nice, or even just normal, i would have warmed up to you. i know i was being childish, but goddamn, you’re worse.” 

if he was blushing before, and he was, he’s absolutely blood red now. 

“i-it’s your fault for being so judgmental!” he sputters, but even you know he’s just grasping at straws. it all makes the worst kind of sense to you now, and you’re very much shocked at how oblivious you were mere moments ago.

“i can't believe this,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to your temples in an effort to straighten everything out in your muddled head. “you hate me.” 

“you’re so dramatic,” he huffs with a roll of his eyes, which would convincingly come across as disdainful, if only his words weren’t so shaky and unsure.

you take a good look at him now, and he can feel it. he’s a very handsome guy, and he knows it, but he can’t help but feel vulnerable. he clears his throat and straightens up his posture when he thinks that you may be comparing him to taehyun... you are not.

none of his actions escape you, which is a far cry from what usually happens, but now that you've discovered his true feelings, it’s almost impossible not to catch his tells; you even wonder how you missed them. his awkward handling of the situation is endearing, in a way. you like watching him squirm, which you realize must be the way he felt about you all those times he teased you. it just makes you wanna push him more.

you’re not exactly known for your impulsivity. in fact, you’re known for the exact opposite. you take things slowly, steadily. you plan every minute detail in consideration of every possible outcome, but as for right now? right now, as you sit and watch beomgyu pout, you just want to let go and do what you really want, and what you really want is to watch him break.

you grab his face with your hands and turn it towards you, and he scowls for just a moment before blinking his big, reddened eyes in curiosity at your unreadable gaze.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, too exhilarated by your touch to think about batting you away.

this is a bad idea — a horrible one, even — but that does nothing to deter you. how can it when his skin on your palms makes it feel like there's pure electricity thrumming through your bones? fuck it, might as well.

you don’t realize it yourself, but you look incredibly focused as you pull him in, his lips meeting yours. you’d think with the shock he must feel that he’d be taken aback for a second, but beomgyu, as always,   does not abide by your rules. he immediately grabs your face and presses his lips even harder against yours. you’re surprised at how much heat is behind it — how much frustration.

it’s incredibly interesting to watch his reactions as you kiss him, which would be weird, but he’s far too engrossed in this newfound pleasure to notice your stare. his eyes are shut, but they tremble with every passing second, making his long eyelashes quiver. you never noticed how long they are before now. you chalk up the swiping of your tongue against his chapped lips to sheerly wanting to study his reaction, and oh man, it does not disappoint. he whines against your mouth, eyebrows furrowed like he’s pleading for something. you want to find out what that something is. cruelly, you take his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly bite. he whines even louder, his eyes fluttering open, and he pulls away and says his next words in a tinny voice.

“c-can i touch you?” he pants, forehead pressed against yours, lips cherry red.

“no,” you say with a smile against his mouth. he would whine again if he could, but he can’t quite do it at the moment, not when your hands have moved from his cheeks in order to explore the rest of him. you curiously run your fingers through his long, silky hair, and he can’t help but moan when you experimentally tug at it. it’s breathy and light, and you’re intrigued, to say the very least. 

you don’t have the most experience in the world when it comes to the, uh, matters between men and women, but you are a fast learner by nature, so it takes no time at all to figure out where he likes to be touched. his lips, obviously, and his hair. his ears, so flushed and pink and cute, must be particularly sensitive, and you test this hypothesis by dragging your teeth along his earlobe. he lets out a loud, broken moan when you do, and anyone else in the world would have been embarrassed by making such a noise, but not beomgyu. he’s so pretty and pliable underneath your touch, which feels so tantalizing that all shame escapes him.

“do you like that, beomie?” you whisper teasingly, employing a nickname you’ve heard from a few of his ex-flings, and another strangled cry leaves his pouty lips when he feels your breath touch his ear. 

“mhmm, i like it! like it so much, princess,” he babbles, eyes screwed shut as you trail your lips from his ear to his unblemished neck. 

“princess?” you can’t help but question. “where’d that come from?” 

“think about calling you that all the time,” he moans as you suck on a previously unmarred patch of skin on his neck. “think about you all the time.” 

“and what do you think, beomie?” you whisper encouragingly, as if he’s a stupid boy just on the precipice of understanding a laughably simple concept.

“th-think about how much i wanna fuck you,” he admits. “h-how much i want to fill you up, make you m-mine.” honest to god, your panties were already feeling a little sticky just from teasing him alone, but his words make your core heat up tenfold. you shift your legs while trying to make yourself more comfortable, but you fail miserably.

“you’re delusional,” you snort, as you pull away from him, but his lips try to chase yours before you lightly push him away.

“i’m not! i-i jus’ wanna make you feel good,” he slurs, and oh god, you simply can’t be saved.

“well, wanna make your delusions reality?” you can’t help but ask before you can think better of it, but when you see how his eyes light up in hope and pure, primal lust, you realize you don’t regret it.

-

the walk to his hotel room is silent, so unbearably silent that you can’t help but second-guess yourself. are you really gonna do this with beomgyu of all people? but it’s been so long since you’ve let go, who will it hurt just to have fun for once? maybe you, probably you, but who cares? it can't be any worse than it is now. besides, you're graduating soon. if things go as badly as you’re pretty sure they will, you’ll never have to see beomgyu again after the fact. plus, things really can’t seem to get any more embarrassing than the humiliation ritual you put yourself through every day that you spend pining after taehyun.

and so, you enter his hotel room, which is easily double the size of yours (sans a roommate, no less) with a look of determination. beomgyu completely misses it, though, as he shuts the door behind you and immediately tugs you towards his bed, quick to rekindle the atmosphere you two had on the rooftop. surprisingly, it’s not hard to do so when he’s back to kissing you so desperately it’s like you’re his lifeline.

he impatiently swipes his tongue across your lips, mirroring what you did earlier, silently asking for entry. you oblige. he groans at the feeling of your warm tongue brushing against his own, savoring the way you taste, which yes, does have notes of weed, but there’s something sweet in there, too. something he’s only ever fantasized about with his hand down his pants.

one of your hands is currently tangled in his hair, just the way he likes it, while the other one exploratorily finds its way down his lithe body. you’ve never done what you do next before, but he seems so incredibly sensitive, it feels like a matter of course to put your hand up his shirt and tweak one of his hardened nipples. he lets out a strangled cry, which only makes you certain that you’ve done the right thing. 

“is it good, beomie? is it everything you wanted it to be?” you tease. he nods like an idiot.

“y-yes, even better,” he moans. “feels s-so good.” 

in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see that he means it as the tent in his pants gets harder and harder to ignore. the poor thing is so wound up by your caresses that he may just cum untouched, anyway, but what fun would that be? so, before you can think too much about it, you palm him through his jeans. 

“ah!” he cries, eyebrows furrowed. you palm him again, rougher this time, and just like clockwork, he cries even louder.

“want me to keep going?” you ask, studying and soaking up every reaction of his. all he can do is nod.

he unzips his pants and he’s all too willing to help you slide them off of him, tossing them on the floor before hurriedly grabbing one of your hands to meet his barely clothed bulge. it’s big, because it’s beomgyu and of fucking course it is. as if he needed another reason to be conceited. 

it doesn’t seem like he’s very conceited, though, as he moans like a whore at you hooking your fingers under his waistband and tugging his boxers off of him. his cock is very obviously leaking, and it’s as bright red as his ears were earlier, completely flushed with beads of precum drooling off of it. there are angry veins running up the sides of it, which sounds gross, in theory, but you can’t help but feel like they make it even prettier. you gulp when you imagine how they’ll feel when they’re dragging in and out of your pussy.

“don’t stare!” he says, breaking you out of your reverie. honestly? he knows it’s pretty, just like every other part of him, but he feels incredibly scrutinized under your gaze. you don’t listen, still very much staring as you take your thumb and experimentally swipe it over his thick, reddened tip. then again. then again.

“s-stop teasing me, please,” he whimpers, but you’re so enamored with his reactions you can’t help yourself. you spit on your hand and grab the base of his cock, which is no small feat considering how thick it is, and you give it a harsh tug. he bites his bottom lip to try to stifle his moans as you start to jerk him off, applying pressure exactly where he needs it most, but he quickly gives up on being quiet when you bend over and lick his tip. he tastes salty, but not unbearably so, and in a way, he’s almost sweet. that could just be your imagination, though.

beomgyu is no longer trying to bite back his moans, but he's stuck in another dilemma: he can't seem to unscrew his eyes for long enough to fully appreciate the sight before him. one of your hands is gripping the muscle of his thigh as leverage while the other aids in squeezing and pulling the parts of him you can’t quite fit in your mouth. you’re not looking at him, which would normally be disappointing, but it’s impossible to be anything less than satisfied when you’re hollowing on your cheeks to suck on him even harder. you take your hand from his dick and ghost your fingers over his balls, and he has to push you off of him so he doesn’t blow his load right then and there.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping some spit and precum off of your lips. he’s enchanted by the way your lips are swollen from sucking on him, so much so that he almost forgets to answer.

“‘m gonna c-cum,” he says shyly.

“and?” 

“i don’t want to yet. i wanna make you feel good, too,” he argues petulantly.

“oh? is that what you do in your dreams? you make me feel good? i’m surprised, i figured you’d like me to do all the work and —” 

“shut up!” he hisses, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“let me eat you out,” he offers, trying to distract you from his evident embarrassment. it’s tempting, very tempting, indeed, but you’re so hot and bothered that you kind of just want to get to the main event. especially since you just know it’ll feel good to finally have him inside of you. it’s been so long since you’ve been with somebody, after all. 

“no, thanks. do you have a condom?” you ask, ignoring his suggestion, and he’d be humiliated if only your question wasn’t so damn exciting.

“n-no…” he stammers. your face falls for a second before he rushes to get out his next words. “b-but i can pull out!” 

“sorry, this was fun and all, but i’m not letting you fuck me without protection.”

“please?” he begs. “i’m clean, i swear! i told you i’m more careful than you think. i really don’t sleep around that much, honestly,” he admits. 

“what?” you ask, genuinely bewildered before calling his bluff. “bullshit. i see you with a new girl all the fucking time. quit lying.” 

“i’m not! i promise — i promise — i don’t sleep around a lot. i only act like i do ‘cause of you!” 

“because of me?” and it actually makes sense when you think about it. he acts out, bullies you, and pretends he’s involved with a lot more girls than he actually is just to try to get you to look his way. oh man, what are you gonna do with him? 

“you’re so pathetic,” you sneer before hiking up your skirt and mounting him. 

“w-what are you —” 

“shut up before i change my mind,” you spit. and just like magic, his mouth is snapped shut.

you start by rubbing your clothed pussy against his bare cock. your slick has already ruined the fabric beyond salvation, so you don’t really mind ruining it some more. beomgyu is absolutely in awe at your actions, rutting against you feverishly. he’s greedy, if nothing else, so he impatiently moves your soaked panties to the side and tries to seek relief in your warm hole. you let him grab your hips as he tries to ease himself into you, but he’s stunned at the resistance he’s met with as he tries to push himself in. 

“s-so tight,” he groans as his fat cock breaches the tight rim of your pussy. the muscles contract as they stretch to accommodate his widened tip. 

you were right about how good you anticipated the feeling of his veins scraping against your insides would be, and you revel in it as you sink down inch by scorching inch. beomgyu, on his end, looks absolutely devastated as you slowly take him in. his mouth is twisted open in a silent scream, and his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. when your ass finally meets his hips, you can feel his length pulsating all the way up to your cervix. it’s a snug fit, too, and it takes everything in him not to hump you like a fucking dog. 

slowly, you raise yourself up again, almost completely off of him, before slamming yourself back down. then again. then again. he whimpers when you do it, grabbing your hips to help steady you as you ride him for everything that he’s worth. he’s enraptured as your breasts bounce with each movement, and he can’t help himself now — he begins to thrust into you wildly, matching your rhythm and making you cry out. if you were in your right state of mind, you’d feel sorry for the poor souls who are on the same floor as him. 

“pussy so f-fucking good,” he grunts as he feels you squeezing around him, and you’re about to smirk before he pushes you onto the bed, then turning you on your side so you’re facing away from him. he tries to slide back into your needy cunt, but the new position makes you feel even tighter. still, with the combination of his slick and yours, he’s able to push himself in again before rutting into you. he presses one of his big hands against your stomach while the other one hastily grabs one of your tits, and suddenly he's back to fucking you like a wild animal. 

you've never in your life felt so wanted, so needed, but beomgyu needs you in a way so carnal it makes you feel even more lustful. he nips your ear, mimicking your actions from earlier, and begs for your praise. 

“a-are you feeling good? you’re feeling good, right?” he chokes out as he hits a particularly deep part of your pussy. 

“so good, beomie,” you moan. “you’re fucking me so good.” those words would normally never leave your lips, but he seems desperate for your validation, and you know he’s too far gone to mock you.

“oh god, this is w-what i dreamed about,” he babbles as he takes the hand that was pressing on your stomach and uses it to massage your clit, earning a strangled scream from you. “th-this is what i’ve always wanted.” and if you could see his face, you’d notice how his eyes roll backwards in sheer ecstasy. 

“i’m gonna cum!” you cry, all self-restraint gone.

“m-me too, princess,” he moans. “c-can i cum inside?” it’s a pipe dream if he’s ever had one, and you can believe that he’s had one, but your response floors him.

“yes, yes, yes! do it inside, i want it!” and that’s enough. he spits out a curse as he hammers himself into you, making you almost sob as you come undone with him inside of you. the feeling of your pussy sucking him in even more as it wildly contracts around him pulls him over the edge, so he paints your walls with his seed and fucks you through both of your highs. 

he stays there until he goes soft, slowly pulling out and watching in awe as the cum spills out of your hole. he pulls you flush against his body and sighs as he tenderly fixes up your hair. 

“i really, really like you,” he earnestly whispers into your hair. 

“i —” 

“it’s okay if you don’t like me yet,” he interrupts. “i can wait.” you’re glad you’re not facing him, because you actually feel a little awkward at his sincere words, but you can’t deny that it makes your heart flutter to hear them.

“okay,” you say.

“okay?” he asks, just to be sure he heard you correctly.

“yes, i-it’s okay. you can wait.” he’s so excited that he throws himself on top of you and turns you to face him, lips greedily meeting yours, putting every ounce of yearning into the kiss. 

honestly? with the way things are going right now, he probably won’t have to wait very long at all. 

notes pt. 2: yeah... i'm so sorry that this is bad i'm just used to writing angst angst angst and this def veered more into cute territory but whatever just don't bully me

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[95-6qrsk2rx9uq42069nnnnnjthewolf]

"Princess"

Red Robin has been hanging around Hood like a persistent gnat he can’t swat lately. And sure, they’ve come to an understanding and collaborate frequently on cases. But this isn’t a predetermined meet-up to exchange intel or brainstorm an infiltration. This is Tim dropping in unannounced on a stakeout, or taking out a goon in a brawl that totally wasn’t about to get the drop on him, Hood had it all handled, really. And then the replacement doesn’t leave. Looking over his shoulder while Jason rifles through cargo holds, or ‘tsking’ from some high perch while watching him make a field repair on his gear, all with some vague air of expectancy like he was waiting for Jason to do something.

But he never gives any indication what it is he’s expecting from Jason, or whether or not Jason actually delivered. No rhyme or reason for when he decides he’s done being a nuisance, from what Jason can tell, though he’s sure it's all very precisely timed in Tim's head. 

The thing is, though, that Jason would maybe like to give Tim whatever it is he seems to want. He knows part of it is just how Tim is; the guy would probably have neglected to mention he runs a fortune-500 company if it hadn’t made national news. But he also knows that if you don’t ask for something, nobody can deny you it. He and Tim tend to run their mental gymnastics on a similar course. Probably part of why they get along so well. 

It’s the very same reason why, instead of asking for clear communication, what comes out of his mouth instead is, “You can pout all you like, princess, but that don’t make me any more of a mind reader. The sooner you tell me what you’re after, the sooner I can tell you to fuck off.”

Red Robin pouts even harder and straightens up, and Jason panics for a second that he actually is about to fuck off. A baseless worry though, when there’s still shit for Tim to poke his nose in. His frown only turns into a satisfied smirk as he points out the false wall in the office he’s decided they’re now investigating together.

~~~

Jason’s pretty sure he solves the mystery of what Tim’s after about two weeks later. 

Tim has turned Jason’s couch into a battle station; laptops, photos and files strewn around him. The coffee table is marginally less cluttered thanks to Jason only just having cleared the empty mugs and energy drink cans away. They’d returned from an extremely fruitful bust on a trafficking den that was the product of days worth of prep, and Tim is already picking up where they left off, pulling on the threads that will lead them to the next step up in the operation, not even fully out of his body armor and buzzing off the adrenaline of their success. Jason had barely gotten Tim’s jammed fingers in a splint before a laptop was being booted up and documents updated, dots connected. 

Normally Jason is more than happy to let Tim’s ridiculous brain run ten steps ahead and in five different directions at once; had once watched him solve a different case from the one he was actually working on accidentally. But Tim’s been burning the candle from both ends even more dramatically this week, prepping with him for this bust in the evenings, and dealing with bullshit meetings at his day job (Jason resents being aware of corporate finance calendars). Jason hears the beginning of frustrated grunts and pronounced keyboard clacking as Tim’s fingers start to stumble over one another and he has to delete more words than actually make it into the report he’s writing. 

“Alright, I’m calling it. If you crash here for the night you can get right back to it when you wake up,” Jason offers, like there’s actually any room for debate, sweeping up papers from the couch. And Tim must be even more exhausted than he realized, because he only gets half-hearted grumbling in response.

“You better save whatever you’re working on by the time I come back with blankets or I’m closing that laptop right on your fingers.”

And miracle of miracles, the laptop is already closed and atop the slightly precarious pile on the coffee table when he returns to the living room, Tim horizontal and watching him with pale eyes as piercing as ever, even behind heavy eyelids he can barely keep open.

Jason can’t do anything but drape the sheets over him, make sure he’s fully covered. Can’t help the words out of his mouth, not nearly as teasing as he meant them to be, 

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

And in response he gets the warmest, sleepiest smile he thinks he’s ever gotten from Tim, nuzzling happily into the blanket before he’s fully asleep in seconds flat, leaving Jason to stare and will his heart to not beat out of his chest.  

[sincerelybubbles]

'hey, u up?' || izuku midoriya x reader

synopsis: ur having difficulty sleeping without izuku there to keep you company

warnings: female reader, minimal cursing, fluff

wc: 2.3k

fic below the cut, reblogs appreciated

|||

To: Izu ♡

ik ur already asleep but i can’t sleep and i miss u :( 

You sigh and set your phone down on the pillow beside you before rolling over and tugging your comforter higher up on your shoulder. You think of broader shoulders, a smattering of freckles, a flash of white teeth, and groan, pulling your blanket up so it’s covering your face too. 

Izuku had returned from a two-week-long trip earlier today and, in typical fashion, was outside of your apartment door the minute paperwork was done. You insisted that he go get sleep, real rest, in his own apartment for the night, without you clinging to him all night. He wasn’t too hurt but you were sure that his shoulder needed rest from being dislocated and you were known to cuddle up to him in your sleep. 

He pouted at the idea but agreed and left a few hours ago and you haven’t heard from him since other than a message letting you know he was home and was going to bed. Which was a good thing, you reminded yourself. He needed rest and was listening to what you told him to. But, fuck, you missed him while he was gone. While his missions weren’t rare – nobody could stop him from doing everything to climb the hero ratings (and you would never dream of even thinking about any other life for him) – not sharing a bed with him while he was home was rare. You were better at it when he was gone. You could tell yourself to get over it, he was away being a hero and you were more than busy enough here, putting your healing quirk to work. 

But here? Alone in bed with him two blocks away? Thinking of how he could be holding you to his chest right now, playing with your hair and soothing you to sleep? This is much harder. 

Groaning, you toss your blanket away and give in to the urge to check your phone again. No new notifications, as to be expected at 2am, but plenty of other distractions were right at your fingertips to keep you awake for much longer than you should be. You push away the temptation and toss the phone down to the foot of your bed, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head. You’re sure there’s some melatonin in the cabinet in your bathroom and that’s your new goal. 

It doesn’t take long to find it and fill a glass with water to take the small pill. You typically don’t take anything to sleep, preferring to fall asleep naturally if possible, but a small part of your brain urges you that the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you can get up and head over to Izuku’s, like the desperate girlfriend that you are.

You’re walking back to your room, praying the medicine works tonight, when you hear something in your room. You freeze, blood running cold. 

Your quirk works to heal yourself as well as others, so you really have little to loose by at least running in there to make a mad dash for your phone. You brace yourself with the thought as you grab the closest thing – a fake potted succulent – and push the door open with your toe, muscles tight and practically vibrating with adrenaline. When it’s obvious nothing is blocking your path, you launch yourself onto your bed and scramble to find your phone in the sheets where you tossed it, head turning around wildly to find the source of the noise. 

You find an empty room. 

You can hear your blood rushing in your ears as your fingers finally brush against your phone and you lower the plastic pot to rest beside you. You hadn’t imagined the noise, there was a loud thump followed by quick tapping noises, repeated enough that you’re sure you heard correctly. 

You hover there, sort of crouched on your bed, armed with the smallest plastic pot in existence and your phone, and consider briefly if there’s an invisible person in your room with you. 

You aren’t quite sure how to proceed, eyes darting around the room. You’ve just come up with the idea to throw your covers into the center of the room to see if it catches on any invisible creep so you can pummel them into the group when the noise happens again. 

Tap tap tap tap tap

You scream, jumping up and throwing the fake succulent on reflex. It sails through the air and lands with a quiet thump on the rug. Swallowing thickly, you force air into your lungs to just think for a minute. It takes you a second to realize that the tapping had come from outside of your window and you slowly crawl off of your bed, phone clutched in your hand. 

Your curtains are pulled shut to combat the bright sun in the mornings so you face them for a few seconds, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. 

‘Please don’t be a person trying to break in please don’t be a person trying to break in please don’t be a person trying to break in’ you plead in your head, crouching down to scoop up your plastic weapon. You could turn back and grab the pepper spray attached to your keyring but you feel like it would be wrong to not let the little succulent see this adventure the entire way through. 

You decide to rip off the bandaid, yank the curtains open, and prepare yourself to scream. You grab at the edge of the curtain before you hear a sigh. 

You feel the blood in your body drop to your feet for a moment before you hear, “C’mon, Y/N?” through the thin glass of your shitty apartment window and you recognize the voice. Your blood feels like it finally starts moving after having been stopped and you feel your face flush as you pull the curtains back. 

As you expected, your boyfriend is perching on the rickety fire escape, fist raised to tap on the glass again. 

He breaks out into a wide smile at you standing there, pajama-clad with messy hair, before it turns confused and he raises an eyebrow toward your still-raised cactus weapon. 

You lower your arm sheepishly, heart skipping at his blinding smile, and hurry to unlock the window. He pushes it open for you when you have it unlocked. 

He braces his hands on the top of the window frame, leans forward, and into your room, biceps flexing and entering your space. 

“Hello,” he whispers, smiling down at you. 

It’s hard to not be flustered. He’s no longer the small Izuku Midoriya you met while training with Recovery Girl at UA – no, this is Pro Hero Deku, still sweet and bubbly, sure, but confident and fully aware of how he has you wrapped around his finger. 

“Hi,” you return, letting him lean close and returning his smile. 

“Quite the arsenal you have around here,” he comments, nodding toward your hand still clutching the plastic pot. 

“I thought you were someone trying to break in!” You justify, holding the plant up, “It’s not my fault that you forget I have a front door.” 

His smile widens as he leaps into your room easily, maneuvering from his awkward crouch to standing in front of you gracefully. “It’s faster to just use Blackwhip and come through his way, the elevator’s too slow.” He gently pries the small pot from your fingers and sets it on your desk, using his hold on your hand to bring your wrist up to his mouth and place a gentle kiss above your racing pulse. “Sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s okay, care to share why you’ve felt the need to visit my window at 2:30 like you’re some sort of Spiderman?” You ask, trying your hardest to not flush at the feeling of his lips sweeping over your wrist. 

He shrugs, lifting his phone and waving it, “You said you missed me.” 

You gape at that, laughing in disbelief. “So you woke up, left bed, and raced here instead of calling me or texting me back?” 

“I knew if I did you would convince me not to come. Guess I missed you too.” He tugs your closer, moving his hand from your wrist to your hip and holding you there firmly, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. 

“But your shoulder,” you whisper, even as you stretch up on your toes to return the gesture. 

“It’s fine,” he promises, slowly smiling again and you can feel the shift from how close you are to him, “Plus, my girlfriend is super cool and can help me out in the morning if it’s sore.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes for show, “Is that all I am to you? After all this time?” You tease.

“Nope,” he hums, pulling back slightly and eyes flickering to your lips. “Never just that.” 

Your heart skips a beat, squeezes, and then races. It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, how many different ways he shows you, or even the years you’ve been by his side – he still manages to make you feel giddy in every way possible. 

“Oh, really?” You ask, breathless and unable to really think straight with how he’s raking his eyes over your face, drinking you in and not hiding it in the slightest. 

He doesn’t answer, opting to lean in and brush his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls back for a breath before leaning in and kissing you properly, pressing his lips against yours, firm and insistent. It doesn’t take long for him to deepen it, licking at your bottom lip and smiling when you respond eagerly. His arm slips from your waist around the small of your back, tugging you close and holding you there. His other hand holds your cheek gently. Your arms are around his neck, fingers brushing past his undercut to find the thick curls above. He groans when you tug, lifting you up and pulling away to press small, quick kisses across both of your cheeks. 

The adrenaline from before has made your small dose of melatonin kick in much faster than usual and you feel your eyes growing heavy even as you giggle and squirm in his arms. 

“You ready for bed, baby?” Izuku asks, placing you down gently and pushing your hair out of your face. 

You nod against his hand, holding it to your cheek so you can turn to press a kiss to the scar stretching across his palm. 

He ushers you to your bed with a hand pressed against the small of your back, pulling his hoodie off while you settle on the far side of your bed next to the wall, watching him move in the moonlight of your room. 

You admire the way the chords of his muscles bunch up at the movement, eyes tracing the freckles that continue down his shoulders to his strong chest and flat stomach. He is a beacon of power, strong and unbreakable, privy to countless strategies to have anyone anywhere fall to their knees, and he’s standing in your bedroom in soft pajama pants with little gauntlets on them (Bakugou’s merch, you note fondly) and bare feet. 

He doesn’t comment on your staring as he crawls into bed, though he’s no doubt noticed, little gets past his attention. He stretches out on his back, adjusting his pillow and opening his arms wide for you. 

“Are you sure?” You question, sitting cross-legged and searching his eyes for any sort of tenseness, “Your shoulder…” You draw off as he scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. He reaches forward and maneuvers you next to him easily, manhandling you in a way that makes you blush. 

“My shoulder’s fine,” he mumbles, prodding you to lay down and shoving his nose into your hair when you do, sighing contently. 

You sink into him, relishing in the warmth and comfort he brings. Gently, you trace the scars and freckles on his chest with a finger. You don’t comment on how he flushes across his chest at your attention. No doubt his face is red, too.  

A secret, small part of you relishes in your ability to have him just as affected by you as you are by him. The number three hero is in your bed, holding you tightly in his strong arms, blushing because you are trailing your finger across the rough edge of a scar from a fight you’ve heard the story of a million times. 

“You never finished telling me about the lady at the convenience store,” you remind him, poking his side gently. You know he relaxes more when he talks, you have fallen asleep countless times to the gentle sound of his voice, deep and slow as he gets more and more tired as well. 

“You sure? It’s late, I can tell you tomorrow,” he hesitates, fingers tracing nonsensical patterns across the side of your neck. 

“Mhm,” you nod, craning your neck to smile up at him, “you know I fall asleep faster when I have you to listen to.” Never mind that you’re sure that you’re exhausted enough to blink and fall asleep right then. “I want to hear about everything from when you were away, too.” 

That’s all it takes to have him launching into the story, the hand that’s not attached to the arm holding you firmly to his side gesturing in the air. 

You rest your cheek against his chest, listening for the gentle thrum of his heartbeat and feeling the gentle vibrations of his voice as he talks. You fall asleep easily and deeply, warm and content beyond explanation.

||||

note: i've been mia for a while, and i can't promise i'm back to writing full time, but i can promise i have a LOT in the works, some izu, some katsuki, some kirishima, so keep an eye out for whenever i have the time to finish/write those :)

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 12

My job ended so now I'm only part time employed. And I'm on vacation! So you get this chapter early in the day because I have plans later tonight. I think I'll have something to post next week, but I'm not sure. I'll be pretty busy this week, but the people I'm staying with do have work and school and stuff, so I should have time while they're doing that. Idk.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

----------

Danny just blinked at him in confusion. “Who else was there? My accident is what activated the portal and started letting ghosts through. My fault, my responsibility. And since I became half ghost, I had the powers necessary to fix it. My parents were incompetent at best. I just did what had to be done. ”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “If your parents were so incompetent, who trained you? Who helped you?”

“I mean, at first it was just Sam, Tucker, and I. They were present for my accident and helped me figure out my powers. Jazz figured it out a few months later and covered for me until she eventually revealed she already knew and then started helping more actively. And eventually I made a bunch of allies in the Realms and they started teaching me. I’m learning sword fighting from the Fright Knight and Pandora, diplomacy from Queen Dorathea, medicine from my doctor, and so many more things. It’s why I’m not worried about getting a GED. I’m so swamped with lessons and responsibilities that I just don’t have the time right now. Even if my grandfather is the master of time.”

Surprisingly, it was Alfred who asked the next question. “Do you ever have time to rest?”

Danny grinned. “Absolutely. When it all gets to be too much, I call up my partners or little sister and run away for a bit. My council then pretends I’m harder to find than I am. Or I’ll fight them off if I’m not ready to go back yet. I won my title through trial of combat, after all. No one can beat me.”

Jazz pouted at him. “You could call me up more often for those escapades, you know.”

Danny laughed. “Call up Ms. Responsibility to help me shirk? Nah, you’re where I go when I need to focus and can’t do it anymore.”

She smiled at him. “I suppose I can settle for that.”

Damian tilted his head. “We have conducted extensive background checks on Jasmine after her relationship with Todd became known. You do not have a younger sister.”

“I do,” said Danny. “Her name is Dani-with-an-i and she’s either two years younger than me or fourteen depending on how you look at it.”

“You’ve been cloned?” Tim was staring at him, so shocked he’d even stopped typing.

“Dani doesn’t like being called my clone. She’s my sister and her own person.”

Tim shook his head. “No, sorry, I said that wrong. My best friend is a clone. Superboy.”

“Oh!” Danny grinned. “I get it. Dani would love an introduction if you think he’d be interested. Superboy was also created by a creepy billionaire who was obsessed with his template, right? They’d have so much in common.”

“Wait,” said Jason. “Vlad Masters actually cloned you? He’s not just some creepy rich dude but legit mad scientist?”

Jazz shrugged. “Supervillain more like. But we’ve got it mostly under control. Bruce, if he tries to set up a meeting with you between Wayne Enterprises and VladCo, let me know? He likes to overshadow his competitors and make them sign over their companies. It’s how he became mayor in Amity. But he won’t do anything if Danny or I are there.”

“Overshadow?” asked Bruce.

“Possession,” Tim answered for Danny. “Apparently it’s a basic ghost power.”

Bruce closed his eyes. “Of course it is.” Looking to Danny, he asked, “What else are basic ghost powers?”

“As I demonstrated earlier, flight—well, it’s more gravity nullification, but semantics—invisibility, intangibility. Then there’s ectoblasts—” he formed one in his hands and tossed it from hand to hand “—overshadowing. Um… and most ghosts have at least one extra power directly tied to their obsession. Like, Boxy, er ,the Box Ghost, has control over cardboard boxes. Lunch Lady has control over food. Things like that.” With a wave of his hands, he dissipated the ectoblast.

“And Vlad Masters has used these powers to win an election and steal other’s companies.”

“He also has the power of duplication. I’m working on it, but can only maintain two duplicates at a time and it takes a ton of concentration. Vlad can maintain dozens if not hundreds at once. And each duplicate can overshadow someone. It’s why he’s such a pain to fight.”

Jason raised his hand. “I’m sorry, can you back up for a sec. How long has Vlad had these powers?”

Jazz shrugged. “Since his university days with Jack and Maddie. There was an accident and Vlad got ghost powers like Danny.”

“Uh-huh.” Jason’s voice was tight and a slow spread of anger was filling the room. “And you first met him when you were a kid, right?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “It was a few months after my accident, so I was fourteen.”

“Did he, a grown-ass man, start fighting you, a kid right from the beginning?”

“Look, it’s fine. He’s a fruitloop. I know that. He wanted to kill my dad and marry my mom and play father-son with me from the moment we met. And yeah, the fights were hard when I was a kid. But I’m way stronger than him now. He’s just got that one trick that is a bitch to account for. I’m fine. Have been fine. And now I’m old enough and disowned so my parents can’t even force me to spend time with him anymore.”

Robin face palmed at his last words and Danny threw his hands up in the air.

“What did I say this time? I’m fine!”

Bruce frowned. “I’m sorry the adults in your life have failed you so badly. I know you said you are receiving training from other mentors, but I do have extensive experience fighting with and against metas and will share my methods with you. Both you and your sister, excuse me, sisters are welcome here any time and I’ll make sure we have some rooms set aside for you anytime you’re on Earth and in New Jersey.”

Damian jumped to his feet, “Father!”

But before he could say more than that, Dick had rushed to his side and slapped a hand over his mouth and began whispering in his ear. Steph moved seats so the two brothers could sit next to each other.

Robin was grinning and pumping his fists in the air. He sent out welcome, family vibes towards Danny.

Emotions that were echoed by Jason who added a protect layer to them.

Duke let out a whoop. "I won't be the only meta around! Promise me you'll come by a lot."

Danny shook his head, but couldn’t stop the smile. “So, you’ve decided I’m not a threat, then?”

“Hn. It seems like you were a child, put into an impossible situation, failed by all the adults who should’ve protected you, and that you excelled anyway.”

Jason pointed his fork at Danny. “But don’t let him put you at ease. He will figure out ways to neutralize you if you end up going evil or get mind controlled. He does it to everyone, even Superman and Superman is his best friend.”

At that, Danny couldn’t help but laugh. “Good!”

Pulses of surprise came from both Robin and Jason.

“Look, I’ve faced both an evil future version of me and have had to deal with mind control.” He looked to Bruce and, serious now, said, “As soon as the Anti-Ecto Acts are repealed and the Guys in White disbanded, I will help you write those plans myself.”

---------

Next

The family is finally warming up to Danny and at least some of them want to bring them in! Damian is the least happy about it.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

[embodyingchaos]

Haii

I was wondering is you could do a Rodrick Heffley x reader with female pronouns where she is a singer and maybe they meet at the battle of the bands or something and fall for each other

pleas and thank you , your amazing 🫶💗

❥ hi there, sweetie! of course i can!! hope you like this!

potential pairing: rodrick heffley x fem!reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers warnings: rodrick is a goofball, y/n's band is named velvet ecstasy(dont ask), the band plays garbage truck from scott pilgrim vs the world mUAHAHH word count: 1.3k

tapping her foot on the pavement, her patience was running thin. y/n was waiting for the rest of her band to arrive, they were late and they had less than ten minutes to check in. “when i get my hands on those fuckers, they’re so dead.” she whispered under her breath, talking to nobody but herself.

“well, i wouldn’t wanna be one of those fuckers.” a voice from beside her says, “you look like you can punch.” she looked next to her and saw a boy that was about the same age as her. he was cute with his shaggy hair and m-1965 field jacket, especially with his black, emo eyeliner. “i’m rodrick.” he introduced himself, trying to lean on the wall before missing it and hitting his face on the surface. he recovered pretty quickly, leading y/n to assume that this wasn’t the first time he’d done that.

she eyed him up and down before smirking, “y/n.” she said her name, making rodrick’s heart beat faster. “you performing or watching?” rodrick flipped his hair away from his face, “performing. i’m a drummer.” he said, “i’m, uh, pretty good too. pretty bomb.” the boy boasted before turning away for a moment and questioning himself on why he just said ‘bomb’. y/n grinned at that. 

“sure you are, bub.” she giggled and rodrick could feel himself ascending to heaven. “hey, y/n!” a voice called out and they turned to the road. a cherry red car had just pulled up with four other people in it; y/n’s band. “took you guys long enough! i aged like five years waiting for you bozos!” she yelled, half-jokingly. y/n turned back to rodrick, “i’ll see you inside, rodrick. can’t wait to see your ‘bomb’ drumming skills.” she gave him a charming smile before heading towards her band members, giving each of them a slap to the back of their head.

rodrick stared at her until she entered the building, admiring her face, her smile, her laugh. “rod!” ben was waving his hand in front of rodrick’s face, “we gotta go! they’re already starting to perform!” he urged him but rodrick only sighed dreamily as he thought of her, “right.” he simply said, not listening to his friend. ben let out an ‘ugh’ before dragging the boy into the building and backstage.

“marty, what are you doing?” y/n asked the boy as he tied up his dreads, “tying up my hair?” “no- i know that! where’s your guitar?!” she asked frantically, marty looked at her weirdly. “next to you?” he pointed beside her and there was his sleek, black electric guitar in its stand. a pink tint coloured y/n’s cheeks, “oh.” she said sheepishly, a nervous laugh coming out of her mouth. their drummer, jules, wrapped an arm around the girl. “you gotta chill, girlie. we’re all prepared and ready, and we weren’t even that late.” jules assured, rubbing y/n’s shoulder as she sighed. “plus, you weren’t alone when we got here. seemed like somebody had company.” jules said in a teasing-sing-songy way, y/n shoved her lightly.

“shut up, he was just one of the drummers from another band-” “gasp! fraternising with the enemy?! how could you, n/n?!” jules joked, an offended expression on her face. y/n giggled before pushing her away, “shut up!” she exclaimed, their bassist, pearl, placed her hand on jules. “stop it, babe. you’ll make her cry or something.” she told her girlfriend who began laughing even harder. 

y/n puffed up her cheeks, “that was one time!” she yelled while they cackled away, “are we talking about that one time y/n started crying when we teased her so much about her crush on that substitute teacher?” their keyboardist, george, asked out of nowhere, y/n glared at him as marty only smiled.

“god, i can’t get one break with you people.” the girl huffed, crossing her arms and walking away towards the side so she could watch the next band perform. “now, everybody get ready!” the mc announced as rodrick’s band got up on stage. “get ready to be blown away by- löded diper?” the mc seemed confused on how to pronounce it, “it’s- it’s löded diper (loaded diaper)!” rodrick shouted at him, “whatever!” yeah, the mc did not care.

when they started playing, y/n couldn’t take her eyes of rodrick. he wasn’t the best drummer, but he had the right attitude and enthusiasm for it. he looked like he was having the time of his life.

“that your new boyfriend?” george joked from behind her, “can you not?” y/n hissed, snapping at him. george held his hands up and chuckled, “alright.” he said, smiling. “you should ask him out, you guys looked good together just now.” she tilted her head to the side, “maybe i will.” she muttered, staring at the boy who was going ham on the drum set.

after their performance, rodrick exited the stage using  the side that y/n was at. “impressed?” he asked slyly, she smiled. “yeah. pretty ‘bomb’.” the girl joked and rodrick’s face turned red out of embarrassment. just as he was about to say something, pearl approached them. “i’m sorry to interrupt this adorable exchange but we’re going on now, n/n.” she told her band member, “right.” y/n nodded as the rest of the band got ready on stage, “wish me luck, pretty boy.” she poked his shoulder before making her way to her band.

“this is a band that’s entirely new! it’s their first time performing so be gentle, give it up for velvet ecstasy!” the crowd cheered as y/n walked up to the center of the stage, “are you ready?!” she asked only to receive loud and encouraging replies from the audience. y/n turned around to jules to give her the signal. “we are velvet ecstasy! one, two, three, four!” jules shouted before starting off their song with her drums as pearl and marty accompanied with their strings.

when y/n started to sing, rodrick could not believe his ears or eyes. she wasn’t the best singer, but her charisma and tiny little moves were something you could not take your eyes off of. “i’ll take you for a ride, on my garbage truck.” she held onto the mic and the stand as she sang, tapping her foot and swaying her hips, tossing her hair. rodrick was mesmerised to say the least. “they’re way too good.” ben commented, worried about whether they’re going to win or not. rodrick did not care.

as their performance came to an end, the crowd was more than hyped up. “god, that was exhilarating!” pearl exclaimed, “wow, i have never seen her this excited before. says a lot.” marty commented as he watched her punch the air, “let’s fucking go!” jules screamed, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend and spinning her around. george and y/n laughed as they watched, feeling high off of performing.

“hey.” rodrick called out and the entire band turned around. “ooo! y-” “no.” pearl cut jules off, dragging her away. “we’ll see you later, n/n!” “don’t go making out somewhere.” the boys joked, receiving a glare from the girl.

“hi, there.” she greeted rodrick back, suddenly feeling shy. “you were amazing out there.” he gushed, “i could say the same thing about you and your band.” she softly chuckled, looking down at the ground. rodrick didn’t say anything, which cause her to look back up at him. it was very silent. “would you want to go out some time?” “would you want to go out some time?” they asked in unison and their eyes widened before they burst out laughing.

when they calmed down, y/n smirked. “alright, then. let me give you my number.” rodrick scrambled to get out his flip phone and hand it to her. when y/n finished typing out her number, she returned his phone to him. “call me.” she simply said before giving him a kiss on the cheek, walking away to find her friends.

rodrick could not believe what just happened. when he looked down at his phone and saw that her contact was named ‘potential girlfriend’, he squealed so hard. it was easy to say, he was definitely, already infatuated.

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 16 - My Allies

Izumi: That should be it for the shopping.

Tsumugi: Ah, right. I ran out of fertilizer…

Izumi: Should we make a stop at the flower shop?

Tsumugi: No, it’s a bit heavy, so I’ll ask someone else to help me next time I’m out and I’ll get it then.

Izumi: Got it. Oh, and speaking of flower shops, there’s that boy who’s a fan of ours that lives in a flower shop that I pass by a lo--.

Towa: …

Izumi: Huh? Towa-kun?

Towa: Ah…

Izumi: Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?

*Stomach growls*

Towa: I wanna… eat some rice…

*Thud*

Izumi: Huh?

Tsumugi: …He collapsed in the middle of the street?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Towa: Let’s eat!

Tsumugi: You must’ve been starving.

Izumi: But I thought you were living at your aunt’s flower shop? It’s pretty close, so why…?

Towa: Actually… I ran away from home.

Sakuya: Ran away!?

Sakyo: Reminds me of a certain someone.

Azami: There’s a lotta people who run away from home in this dorm.

Kumon: Ahaha, true~.

Tenma: You were one of them, though.

Izumi: Did you run away because there’s something troubling you?

Towa: …

Masumi: If you’re not going to say anything, leave.

Sakuya: Hey, c’mon, he probably has his reasons.

Towa: …Sorry for causing you guys so much trouble.

Towa: …I’ve always admired you all. I’ve always wanted to be someone who could be passionate about something.

Towa: All my studies, my lessons, my hobbies, I’ve always done them half-heartedly. I’ve always tried to not work as hard as I could.

Sakuya: …Why is that?

Towa: …I didn’t want to disappoint myself.

Towa: I guess I didn’t want to try too hard, fail, and then be disappointed in myself.

Towa: If I did, I’d be embarrassed, and scared, and feel like I should just curl up and die then and there.

Towa: But then I happened to see a play by MANKAI Company’s Spring Troupe, and fell in love with how much everyone was sparkling.

Towa: I was desperate to do something like that, to actually accomplish something. I wanted to try and shine like that, too.

Towa: But I didn’t know what to do…

Towa: I wanted to be closer to Veludo Way, where you all were, so I sent in an application to Hanasaki and transferred there last minute.

Izumi: That’s the reason why…!?

Banri: Pretty damn impressive that you managed to pass the entrance exam. The standard score you need to get in there is pretty high.

Towa: I studied harder than I ever had in my entire life!

Sakuya: You sure were motivated, huh?

Masumi: You’re insane.

Towa: It was because I wanted to be closer to all of you guys, but I had another reason too…

Towa: Everyone in my family really spoils me. They’re always ready to drop everything to give me anything I’m interested in or anything I need.

Towa: They’ll almost always listen to my selfishness and it made all my friends really jealous when I told them, so I wondered if it was really okay for me to keep living like that…

Towa: They didn’t even object when I transferred schools.

Towa: They said I should go wherever I wanted to go. And not only that, but they helped me with cram school and got me a tutor too.

Towa: They also asked my aunt if I could live with her.

Towa: My family is really kind, and I love them so much, but I hate how spoiled I become when I’m with them. That’s why I decided to leave.

Yuki: You’ve got guts.

Tsumugi: It’s really nice of your family to support the path you chose, Towa-kun.

Towa: But… Apparently, they thought it wouldn’t be long before I came back home.

Towa: “It’s not like there’s anything he really wants to do”, “He won’t be able to do it alone, away from his family”...

Towa: When I overheard my aunt and my mom say stuff like that while they were talking on the phone, I got so mad that I just stormed out.

Towa: …But they were right. All I have is the things I admire. I don’t have a clue about what I actually want to do with myself.

Towa: I really can’t do anything on my own…

Sakuya: I don’t think that’s true.

Citron: You have already made it this far!

Chikage: You’ve even managed to make your way into the dorms of the theater company you admire.

Towa: Ah…

Itaru: You tried your hardest, got accepted into Hanasaki, and made it all the way to the Holy Land, isn’t that enough proof right there?

Sakuya: I think it’s amazing that you’re venturing out into a whole new world entirely on your own.

Itaru: You don’t need to rush things. Everyone figures out what they want to do with themselves eventually.

Tsumugi: I think you probably understand feeling like that the most, right, Banri-kun?

Banri: This sorta thing’s all about timing, and, well, I guess fate’s sorta a part of it too. There ain’t any point in rushin’ things.

Juza: For you, it was more like when people try ‘n stage car crashes for insurance money, though.

Banri: The hell you just say?

Izumi: You’re able to do lots of things.

Izumi: If we hadn’t met you, we never would’ve thought of doing that workshop, Towa-kun.

Towa: …Thank you so much. I’m still really sorry about all the trouble I’ve caused you.

Izumi: You’re aunt’s probably worried sick, so someone should get in touch with her. Are you able to do that on your own?

Towa: Yeah.

Towa: --Ah, so many notifs in the chat.

shiki: Please contact us.

kar: Don’t die

Iv: wanna come over to my place?

shiki: Just calm down and don’t do anything rash!

Izumi: Chat?

Towa: They’re friends I met through a game called “Bloom Game”.

Towa: We’re always talking about all kinds of different things on BlooCh-- the in-game chat.

Towa: We’ve never met before, and we don’t even know what any of the others look like, but that’s why we can talk and feel like we’re always so connected.

Towa: It’s just another one of the places I belong.

Izumi: I see. Make sure you get in touch with them too, then.

Towa: I will.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Do you need someone to take you home?

Towa: I’m good. It’s not that far away and my aunt said she’d meet me halfway.

Sakuya: Got it. Well then, get home safely, okay?

Citron: And you are always welcome to come here if you ever run away from home again!

Masumi: Please don’t.

Tsuzuru: Not sure when we became a place that welcomes runaways, but, I guess it’s not so bad being a place like that.

Izumi: Bye.

Towa: Thank you for the meal! And good luck with your next performance! I can’t wait to see it!

*Footsteps*

Tsuzuru: Our next performance, huh…

Itaru: We’ve still gotta face our own problems too.

Chikage: …Right.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Phone notification*

Sakuya: Ah… I really need to reply…

Sakuya: Haaah… Something that’s like us, huh.

Tenma: Does the upcoming Romeo have lines like that?

Sakuya: Huh? Ah, no.

Tenma: Heard your rehearsals didn’t go too well.

Sakuya: …Yuzo-san watched us rehearse today.

Sakuya: He told us to think about what makes a play a Spring Troupe play again, and to think about what our debut performance was like too.

Sakuya: We’ve definitely improved and gained a lot more experience, but what are we lacking more than back then…

Sakuya: There’s no way our feelings aren’t stronger than they were back then.

Tenma: Something you’re lacking, huh? There were lots of things you were lacking during your RomiJuli performance.

Tenma: Your acting was rough at best, and it was overall a pretty shaky start. But even so… I still wonder about what exactly it was that made you guys sparkle like that.

Tenma: You all just seemed to be enjoying the new world of theater with everything you had in you.

Sakuya: New world…

Tenma: You made me want to go with you-- To take that step into the world of the stage.

Sakuya: I was so happy to hear you praise RomiJuli after you joined the troupe, Tenma-kun.

Tenma: Now that I think about it, you must’ve had problems back during rehearsals for your debut performance, right?

Tenma: I mean, I did ask you how you solved problems during your performance while we were rehearsing for Summer Troupe’s debut performance.

Sakuya: I guess you’re right…

Sakuya: While we were rehearsing for our debut, Yuzo-san told us that we didn’t understand a thing about the stage and--...

Sakuya: That’s it! Thanks, Tenma-kun! I’m gonna go and get a little more acquainted with the stage again!

Tenma: --No problem.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Another request! Alois, Ciel, Edward, Undertaker and Charles Gray with sn ADHD reader. Perhaps she's having a harder day handling it and just needs some cuddles to help!

honestly I feel it! I've got those ADHD vibes dang it XD

Goodness, you just can’t keep you head on straight, can you? Irritating sometimes, especially on bad days, but… but he can handle it! While he doesn’t necessarily have any of your specific issues, he can sort of understand feeling out of control of one’s feelings and reactions and thoughts. He has his own problems, and sometimes that means he’s unable to help with yours. However, he does his best to help if he’s not having a bad day himself. He’s there to keep you on task if you’re trying to get something done, giving you cheeky, teasing little reminders that, “You said you wanted to get this done, remember? You’re getting distracted, sweetheart. Want me to help you focus?” He’s quite shameless in that he uses himself as motivation; every time you successfully get back on track after getting distracted, he gives you a kiss as a reward.

Good God, how can you stand being all over the place like that all the time? He thinks his head would pop off if he had so many things pulling him in every direction. He’s had a bit more practice keeping his thoughts in line, because he has to do so in order to efficiently run a company. If you’re at all interested, he could probably teach you some techniques for staying focused. You’re making his head spin, after all, so he’s more than willing to help as long as you’re open to it. He often uses the ticking of a clock as something to concentrate on, which brings his head to the present and lets him work on whatever’s in front of him. If that doesn’t work for you, he’ll find something else. He just… knows what it’s like, even if it’s not as bad for him, to not be able to settle. Anything he can do to help you with that feeling, he’ll give it a go.

Oh, goodness, she seems so… well, it’s just… she’s always at the mercy of distractions like this? That seems like a rather confusing way to live one’s life. He isn’t sure what exactly he could do to give her any assistance, other than attempt to offer gentle reminders. Even so, his biggest problem in trying to remind her is that he doesn’t want to seem pushy or add one more thing to all the information her mind is already trying to sort through. If she’s okay with him delicately poking at her to get back on task, he’ll try to do that. Writing something? Reading a book? Cooking? He’s happy to be there next to her to either nudge her if she gets distracted or take over if she’s getting flustered. He also is very good at making her feel like this isn’t a nuisance; it’s just something that has to be dealt with, and he doesn’t ever make a big show of dealing with it. He’s just… there for her.

Doesn’t she get exhausted going through life like that? All disorganized and unable to focus on things? That would drive him up the wall! In fact, just looking at her getting distracted makes him a little annoyed. Not for selfish reasons, just because he’s wincing at the thought of anyone living like that, especially someone who he cares deeply about. However, he has no idea how to help her, aside from giving her blunt reminders about getting back on track if he notices her attention is being pulled somewhere else. Blunt may be what she needs; it may not be. He’ll adjust his efforts if she tells him something isn’t helping her. He also has connections with some good doctors, if she wants to go that route. However, regardless, he’ll try to help her out. If he can’t help her, well, plenty more excuse for kisses and snuggles to make her feel better.

Hee-hee, she’s actually quite funny, runnin’ around like that with her mind goin’ in all different directions! How absolutely endearin’. Honestly, he just thinks it’s charming, even though he knows she most certainly doesn’t think of it as a good thing. It’s just that he can find beauty where most people don’t see it, and that extends to issues like hers. (Mind you, he’s got his own issues, so that may play a part in it.) Of course, if she happens to need him to help her get back onto a task sometimes, he’ll do his best. He likes her just how she is, though, so unless something is very important, he doesn’t always push as hard as might be effective. She needs hugs to comfort her, though? That’s most definitely his department. Aah, humans are so strange and wonderful!

[auroraapple22]

Hello everyone, I am really in need of some financial help if anyone is able to do so. I have most of the rent for my apartment for October, but I’m $200 short. I’ve been late on the rent a few times recently, my landlord has been really understanding. So far, she thankfully hasn’t charged me any late fees.

I unfortunately lost my job recently, it’s a long story but the store manager Jan passed away in March. The assistant manager Angelina took over after that and everything rapidly started deteriorating. I was next in command after Angie and we had a few employees quit one after the other. On top of that, Angie was a horrible manager.

My coworker, Tad, who was an awesome employee despite only being part time due to the fact he was on disability. I was another employee with a very good work ethic and did a great job. Because of this, Angie began relying solely on Tad and I to basically do all the tasks that kept the store running. The entire night shift wasn’t really required to do anything, Angie would act like she gave them tasks to do and it wasn’t her fault if it didn’t get done. But it was Tad and my fault if we didn’t pick up the slack. Tad got injured at work and ended up with a hernia requiring surgery because Angelina expected him to put away freight orders worth $17,000 (for the size of the store where we worked, an order of that size during a four hour shift and she expected me to do everything else to keep the entire store running while he did that.

After Tad ended up needing surgery, my job got even harder than it already was. Angelina would have me work full 8 hr shifts with just her and I there until 2pm. She managed to stay in the back office doing I don’t know what for entire days at a time. Something I never saw Jan do and something I never did on Angie’s days off when I was acting manager. She would take literally 15 smoke breaks during an eight hour shift. That’s seems like an exaggeration but it’s probably an under estimate. She would act like she didn’t have time to give me a ten minute break knowing that she was the only other employee that she scheduled to be there and therefore the only way I would be able to take any break.

I started having really bad stomach issues, and shoulder problems from being so tense all the time. I cried easily and panicked at the grocery store which is not the type of thing I am used to. I had to quit. This was the best job I ever had up until Jan died. I held this job way longer than any other. I am looking for work now and I think I will be hired somewhere by the end of this week but I really need some help.

My boyfriend unfortunately lost his job at the same time. We’ve done alright paying rent and bills up until now. I’ve got a utility bill that’s about $50 that is overdue and I know I won’t be able to pay it for a while, but they won’t shut our power off so really I’m most concerned about the rent. Please please anything anyone can give would be extremely helpful. I have cash app and I am able to sign up for paypal or Venmo if necessary. If you can’t donate, please help me out by sharing this post. I know things are tight for everyone right now, the cost of food and gas is astronomical. I appreciate anything anyone can give, bless you all and thank you for reading.

Also, I live in a very small town so driving for companies like Uber or door dash aren’t really an option. However, if anyone has any suggestions about how I could make some money quickly, please let me know. I always hear about those survey websites, if anyone knows of any that they’ve personally used and are not a waste of time, I would be so grateful to know about it. Thank you everyone once again, I love all of you.

I have llkkkks to Anything helps, if you can’t spare any money, please please just share this post. A share helps just as much as a donation would.

🥰🥹🤞

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

knowing what they'll say

inside jokes

thinking maybe...

smiling more easily

nicknames

Convenience or better circumstances please 🙏 🙏

A/N: I skipped the inside jokes prompt because my brain would just not come up with anything, so sorry about that. But these are all for convenience, pre the series. Hope you like them and if you have a request for one of my WIP pairs, the prompt list can be found here!

Knowing what they’ll say:

Bruce knew Y/N wanted one of two things when she walked into the library with a smile on her face.

“You looking for a book, or wanting to visit the garage?” He asked before turning his attention back to the book he was reading.

“How’d you know I don’t just want your company?” She walked around the back of his armchair and rested her arms across the back.

He chuckled. “Because you saw me at the gala last night and the only thing that could have brought you here this early is an idea you can’t shake.”

“Damn, am I really that predictable?” She huffed and he set the book to the side so he could tip his head back and look at her. “You’d make a good detective.” She tapped him on the nose.

He tried not to smile. “I think I’m a bit too high profile for that.”

“Not if you wore a mask.” She laughed. If only she knew. “But you’re right, I want to take a look at the charger.”

He pretended that annoyed him. “Fine.”

Her smile widened and she practically dragged him out of the room.

Thinking maybe…:

Y/N was not expecting to have to pry a very drunk Bruce away from the recently widowed Mrs Jones tonight. The older woman was running her perfectly manicured fingers across his chest, definitely looking for another man with a fortune she could spend, while Bruce blinked blearily at her in confusion.

Please forgive me, she silently begged him as she practically yanked him out of Mrs Jones’ grip and into her arms before turning his head towards her and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “There you are, darling, I was wondering where you disappeared to.”

“Y/N, missed you.” Bruce mumbled, burying his face in her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N smiled and turned her attention back to the other woman. “Can we help you Mrs Jones?”

Mrs Jones had gone red and made a noise that could have been a no before turning and disappearing back into the crowd.

“Okay, let’s get you home before the papers have chance to snag a photo that makes it look like we’re dating again.” She tried to remove his arms from around her, but he just whined and gripped harder. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not a clue.” He said. “You kissed me.”

“I was saving you from a shark that smelt blood in the water.” She said, pulling out her phone and texting Alfred to meet them around the back of the venue as she started manoeuvring him towards the exit.

“You could do it again.” He said, barely above a whisper.

She almost dropped her phone. Maybe… No, she shook her head. He had just had too much to drink. “Ask me again when you’re sober, pretty boy.”

Smiling more easily:

Alfred watched over his glasses as Y/N and Bruce walked out of the elevator, carrying numerous shopping bags between them. Bruce had been quiet since he graduated, still avoiding Alfred’s questions about what he planned to do next. Y/N being away at college seemed to have made it worse; he knew she was the only person Bruce truly felt himself around.

Which was why the wide smile on both their faces, even with their cheeks stained pink with the cold, made Alfred happier than he had felt in a long time. “Did you get everything?”

“We think so.” Y/N told him.

“I hate Christmas shopping.” Bruce grumbled, but the smile did not completely disappear from his face.

“Well, at least it’s done. Now all we have to do is wrap everything.” Y/N said with fake enthusiasm as Bruce laughed softly.

“Everything you’ll need is already in the drawing room. I’ll bring through some tea.” Alfred said. He watched them go with a smile on his face, wondering if he could just ask her to take Bruce with her when she went back to college. If only to keep the smile on Bruce’s face.

Nicknames:

“I wouldn’t touch that unless you want to risk messing up your face, pretty boy.” Y/N warned as Bruce prodded a device sitting on her desk.

It was not the first time she had ever called him that, but he still felt his cheeks growing warm and had to duck his head so she would not see. “Why, what’s it do?”

“Not what it’s supposed to.” She said dead seriously, and he could not stop himself from laughing.

“Are you ever going to build something that won’t almost seriously maim you before you get it right?” He raised his eyebrows and walked back over to where she was sat on her bed sketching.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Now, what would be the fun in that?”

[yellowkitkieran]

What the Heart Wants: Part 5

Read part 4 here

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Kieran is your best friend’s older brother. Your best friend’s fit older brother that you definitely haven’t had a crush on for years. Not at all. And he certainly doesn’t like you back, that would be absurd...

Under normal circumstances, training days before matches are Kieran's favorite. There is a certain buzz in the air that is impossible to replicate by artificial means. Everyone chats while they work, helping each other identify weak points in the opposite team to exploit. He and his teammates work ten times harder as well, confident in their abilities. 

Today though? Kieran would rather be just about anywhere else on the planet. He'd rather be knee deep in a pit of sticky, hot tar than have to deal with the man who's been glued to his side since he walked in the door, bombarding him with questions about you. 

"Why do you call her Bug?"

Though Aaron's question is innocent, it grates on Kieran's nerves.

"Because she hates bugs," he answers sharply, focusing on the weight he's benching instead of his mate spotting him with a wistful, far off look in his eye. 

"End of?" 

"Yeah." Not really. But yes, as far as Aaron needs to know. Kieran came up with the nickname because you were always smaller than him growing up, and considering how small he was, that was a significant difference. The fact that you hated the nickname at first only made Kieran more determined to ensure it stuck, because your nose always scrunched up and he liked that.

Even ages ago, Kieran should've recognized the crush he had on you.

Now, he's screwed himself because you're in love with Aaron or whatever. Kieran lost his chance. Hell, he's not sure you even consider him a friend anymore- after the interaction he had with you last night, he'd guess not. 

"She's coming to the match this weekend," Aaron states, like Kieran wants to know every detail of your life. In truth he couldn't care less how you spend your time. "And she's staying at mine which means I'll get all the good luck wishes I could ever need." 

Aaron laughs, jostling Kieran's shoulder when he sits up. His laugh quickly fizzles out when he notices the tension in Kieran's jaw. 

"I'm joking mate, I know you see her like a little sister-"

"I don't care what you two do," Kieran snaps, immediately regretting it when Aaron's face falls. "She's not my sister, she's her own person and she can make her own shite decisions." 

Aaron steps back, his posture rigid. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Kieran wipes his hands on his shorts. Is he really about to do this? Drive a wedge in his team, potentially lose another friend?

Fuck it. Yeah, he is.

"You know exactly what I mean, Ramsdale. I don't mince words- I say things plainly."

Aaron's lip curls, along with his fists. "Fuck you, Tierney. Honestly fuck off-"

"I will, don't worry." Kieran stands, turning his back on Aaron and putting as much distance between them as humanly possible. The weights room is stuffy, the air stinking of sweat and filled with hard music from someone's shitty playlist. 

Actually, everything is shitty. If Kieran needed to pick one word to describe his general mood, it would be gray. Without your friendship and now without the only other person he'd truly think of as a friend, Kieran already feels lost.

Popping in his ear buds, Kieran hops on a treadmill and cranks up the speed. He blasts right past jogging, running, straight into a full sprint, pushing himself so hard and fast that his limbs scream for him to slow. He doesn't listen- because if he runs fast enough, maybe he can outrun the voice in his head whispering that he's failed, there's no returning from this, he'll be alone forever.

Maybe he deserves that. After all the damage he's done, Kieran probably should be alone for the rest of his life- no friends, no significant other, just football for company. At least he has that, as bittersweet of a victory as that may be. 

**********

Kieran can't help it. Every few seconds during warm-ups, his eyes lift to the stands behind the home bench to search for you. Normally you're early on matchday. 

Not today though- you don't show up until minutes before kick off, quietly taking your seat. Kieran straightens as your eyes wander to the pitch, though his efforts are wasted. You skirt right over him, your gaze landing on Aaron, a bright smile splitting your face as you wave. 

And for Kieran, what do you offer him? Nothing. Not even a crumb. Once Aaron's attention shifts to focus on securing his gloves, your own attention falls to the phone in your lap. It's as if Kieran no longer exists in your world. Although, can he really blame you for acting that way? He's been an arse at every available opportunity. Why would you want to be friendly towards him?

Unease settles in Kieran's gut. He stares at the pitch beneath his boots, trying to force the negativity out of his mind. Martin nudges him, and only then does Kieran realize the anthem has ended and he needs to haul ass across the pitch to get to his position. 

Normally, football makes everything else fade into the background. The first touch of a ball at his feet, the first collective roar from the crowd, and Kieran usually feels the tension drain from his muscles. He becomes one with his team, anticipating passes and sliding through defenders like a hot knife through butter. 

Today is a different story. Kieran drops the first pass intended for him, resulting in Chelsea's winger picking off the ball and launching downfield with it. Kieran feels off balance, the world tipping under him as he gives chase, never quite catching up. He's saved by Arsenal's back line, though it doesn't prevent him from bearing the brunt of a verbal lashing from Aaron in goal when Chelsea's attack comes much too close for his liking. 

With his focus all over the board, Kieran struggles to keep himself tidy. Their opponents sense his weakness, sniffing him out like a predator seeks prey, targeting the left side with their presses. Eventually, they know Kieran will slip. And eventually, he does- literally. 

Something white hot lances up Kieran's left leg when he plants his foot and turns to try and cut off Pulisic on the attack. A wordless cry passes his lips as he goes down, grabbing at his knee. Over the roar of blood in his ears, Kieran can hear Christian arguing with the ref against a foul; Kieran hadn't been touched by anyone in a blue shirt. The mistake was purely his. 

The ref holds up a yellow card in Christian's direction. "No fuck off- that's bullshit and you know it!" 

"It's deserved!" Kieran isn't sure which one of his teammates shouts it, but it clearly makes Christian see red. Without a second glance at Kieran on the ground, Christian storms off towards what's sure to be a fight unless someone steps in, but Kieran can't bring himself to care. 

He lays there for what feels like ages, focusing on keeping his eyes squeezed shut so no tears can escape. He will not cry, not when you're there. He's fine. He's perfectly fine. He's gonna finish out this match, he'll score a goal and then you'll understand everything. 

"Kieran, you alright mate?" 

When Kieran dares to open his eyes, he can just barely make out his captain's blonde hair between the blinding lights above the pitch and the black spots in his vision. No, he's definitely not alright. Not in any sense of the word. 

"Medical," Kieran croaks, trying to catch his breath. Everything hurts. Even his shallow breaths somehow make his knee twinge; how is that even possible? Kieran is vaguely aware of Martin as he crouches at his side, waving the medical staff on to have a look at him. 

"Right, they're on their way. What happened? No one even touched you, did they?"

"No," Kieran bites out. Fuck, why does it hurt so bad? It's worse than the time he shattered his leg at Celtic, and that was the worst pain he thought he'd ever experience. "Just spun and felt something… snap."

When two men bundled up in Arsenal puffers arrive, they immediately prod his left knee, hitting all the right spots to have hisses of pain leaving his lips. 

"We're gonna take you off," one of them tells him, "can you walk? You can if you'd like to, though we'll have to help-"

"I'm walking," Kieran states plainly. He knows nothing is broken, at least, and he refuses to be carried off while you're in the stadium. 

"I've got him. Come on, Tierney." Martin stands, holding out a hand to Kieran to help him up. The Norwegian throws an arm around Kieran's waist, not allowing Kieran to walk on his own.

The fans clap as he gets to his feet. He tries to return the sentiment but thinks better of it, wincing as he puts weight on his injured knee. Oh, he's so screwed. This feels season ending. His knee is on fire through the mask of adrenaline, and he can imagine how much worse it will be when it's worn off in a few hours. 

"Keep your head up," Martin murmurs when he stops at the sideline. "They'll fix you up in no time."

Kieran offers his captain a tight lipped smile. He appreciates the false hope, even if it does land hollow in his chest. Trainers slip under either of his arms, taking the brunt of his weight for him as he slowly makes his way down the tunnel. The entire walk, Kieran doesn't take his eyes off the pitch. His team is playing as scrambled as his insides feel, like they can't link up at all after his unexpected substitution. 

As he passes the bench, Kieran doesn't dare look up, not even when he swears he can pick out your voice calling for him. He's failed, again. He was supposed to score a banger of a goal tonight, which would give him the confidence to finally tell you what he's felt for you for months, maybe even years of his life.

The universe is laughing at him, he knows it. How pathetic would it be if he told you now? You'd think he was some miserable prick looking for your pity. That's not what he wants at all. He wants you to understand that-

"Alright Kieran, hop up on that table for me mate."

Kieran blinks, trying to remember how he got to the medical suite with no memory of walking any further than Arsenal's bench. He moves with all the grace of a wooden puppet, joints already stiff and swollen. 

The lead physician, a no frills, fifty something year old man with salt and pepper hair and the beginnings of a pot belly, adjusts his glasses on his nose and sighs. "Well Kieran, you took quite the tumble."

"Yep, how screwed am I?" 

It feels informal to be meeting with a highly accredited doctor like Dr. Montgomery while he's dressed in an Arsenal tracksuit. Shouldn't he be in a long white coat instead of a black puffer?

Regardless, the doctor carefully runs his fingers over Kieran's knee with light pressure, making notes on where it's tender and what areas are safe to touch. Based on the overall mood in the room, Kieran doubts he'll get good news.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you." Dr. Montgomery takes his glasses off and sets them on the top of his head, rolling on his little stool to be closer with Kieran. "Based on the way you went down and the sort of pain you're having now, my initial assessment is a partial, if not full ACL tear."

Kieran's world slips out from under his feet. "A- what? You're sure?"

"Not yet obviously, we have to confirm it. But I'm quite confident-"

"No." Kieran shakes his head adamantly. "No, that's not right. We're supposed to win the league, I'm helping my team win the Premier League! It can't be torn-"

"Kieran, no dramatics please. You'll only make it harder on yourself. I know this is a big thing and a huge shock, but unfortunately, it may be your reality." Dr. Montgomery grips Kieran's shoulders, forcing him to take a deep breath. "You will likely need to accept it, and the sooner you do, the better it will be for your psyche and overall recovery." Dr. Montgomery pats Kieran's chest, right over his heart. 

"You're a valuable asset to this team. They're lucky to have you, and they'll need you back as soon as they can. Focus on that, on getting back and keeping your spirits up." 

"I'm damaged goods. I'm nothing to them now."

Dr. Montgomery shakes his head, understanding that Kieran needed time to process. "For now I'll get you something for the pain, and you can watch the rest of the match on my laptop while we drive you over to our proper medical office, alright? We need some scans to see just how bad the damage is."

Kieran floats above his body. He's present but he isn't, awake but asleep as he's driven across London for a set of scans and more poking and prodding. The meds keep the worst of the pain at bay, dulling the ragged edges until it's only a light throb. Each breath feels like he's inhaling shards of glass, knowing his season is over just as it peaked.

When he's finally dropped off at his flat, he checks his mobile. There's texts from a few of the boys, but he only responds to two, the first being Martin. 

We got an update from the gaffer, he says it doesn't look good… we're all pulling for you. That win was for you mate. 

Kieran's thumbs hover over the screen. He sets his phone aside and gets a pillow under his knee before responding. 

Thanks skipper. I'll be back as soon as I can

The other message he wants to reply to comes from Aaron, a short and simple let me know if you need anything.

But the one person he really wants to hear from is among the few who don't try to reach out. There's only one person who could make him feel even slightly better about the entire situation. Unfortunately for Kieran, you apparently want nothing to do with him. 

Kieran sighs, leaning his head against the sofa. The analyst on the television drones on and on about passing statistics and player form from today's match. Every ten seconds someone mentions his injury and how unfortunate it is to have come at a time when Arsenal are surely topping the tables. 

His head is a mess. He replays the moment he went down on an endless loop, seeing it from various angles thanks to the snippets playing on the television. When his knee becomes bothersome again, he does as the doctor instructed and takes another pain pill, washed down with a glass of cool water. 

At some point he must fall asleep, because he jolts awake when his phone rings. He answers it groggily, rubbing at his eyes to croak out a greeting. 

"Hello?" 

"Oh sweetheart, were you asleep? I told your father we should've waited until the morning to call."

"It's alright mum, I'm awake now." Kieran winces as he repositions himself. Turns out falling asleep sitting upright on the sofa isn't the most comfortable way to rest. "What time is it anyway?" Late, judging by how dark the city is outside his window.

"Around eight I think? Dad and I are worried sweetheart… all alone in that flat of yours- are you doing alright?"

Kieran laughs bitterly, "thanks for that reminder of my loneliness mum. Yeah I'm fine, I can take care of myself, done it before." He can barely hear his dad in the background, making some comment about him being too stubborn for his own good.

"Your father says to quit being stubborn, Kieran." Guilt washes over him when he notes the sadness in her voice. "Ask for help when you need it. I could come down for a week, until you can get around easier?"

"No- no thank you." Kieran can scarcely think of anything worse than having his mum hovering over him all hours of the day. She means well, but it would be an overload on his already strained mind.

"Well… just look after yourself Kieran. I know you'll be down on yourself but there isn't anything you could've done. Try and find a little bit of sunshine in that cloudy city, will you? Focus on that."

His mum's words don't register, going in one ear and out the other. "Sure mum, yeah. I'm knackered- I'm gonna head to bed. Thanks for checking in."

Once he's off the phone, it doesn't take long for his mind to wander. He isn't remotely tired, despite his chaotic day. He feels full of energy but has nothing to do with it other than flick through channels and scroll aimlessly on his phone. 

A photo of a sunset pops up in his Instagram feed and interestingly, his first thought is of you. Sunsets are your thing- you post them on your story almost every day. You chase them like some people chase storms: recklessly and without end, often driving to the highest point you could to catch even a glimpse of the vibrant oranges and warm reds as the sun slips below the horizon. 

Have you watched the sunset tonight? After the match, did you beg Aaron to walk you up to the boxes at the Emirates the same way you used to beg Kieran for a ride to the cliffs on the edge of your hometown? 

If you had, Kieran hopes the London sky lived up to your expectations. Then, at least, he can imagine your smile as you snap a photo to remember it by, murmuring that the lense doesn't pick up colors the same way your eyes do.

What are you doing right now?

Kieran's home alone, but you're across town in Aaron's flat, probably curled up sleeping next to him peacefully. Kieran's heart twinges, wishing you were sitting on the sofa comforting him instead. Not even in a romantic capacity- he's craving your friendship tonight, a shoulder to lean on. Someone to tell him the voice in the back of his head is lying. That he hasn't played his last game for Arsenal, that he'll come back even stronger than before. He'd do anything to hear you joke about how if he was lucky, maybe he'd be a bionic man, with a metal knee or something. 

You've always known how to lift Kieran's spirits. He checks his phone for the hundredth time, hoping to see your name in his notifications. Apparently you know how to crush them too; radio silence does the trick.

Kieran taps out a message to you, then thinks better of it. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, the cursor blinking in the message box beneath your name. 

[rodrickstudios]

My Potential Projects 1: “Chicken Little Hard-Headed”

Alternative Title: Chicken Licken Hard-Headed (UK)

Latin Spanish Title: La nueva Chicken Little (The New Chicken Little)

Direction and Writing: Mark Dindal, Rodrick

Writing based on the original script/draft for Chicken Little (2005) by Mark Dindal and Randy Fullmer

Production done at Walt Disney Television Animation, with traditional animation provided by Mercury Filmworks, Toon City and Snipple Animation Studios

Character Design: Omar Lozano

Character design adapted from Omar Lozano's illustrations for the graphic novel Far Out Fables: Chicken Little Saves The Moon Base, by Benjamin Harper (published by Stone Arch Books)

In a world of talking animals, 12-year-old (and 6 acorns tall) Chicken Little's overactive imagination and proneness to panic attacks have made her an outcast at home and in her hometown of Barnyard Warnyard. Her father, Randall Rooster, just wants to have a regular kid like everyone else, which most of the time leads to her questioning about being a "freak" due to how often she seemingly witnesses vampires, ghosts, aliens and monsters lurking around. Because of this, Hailey Hen, Chicken Little's mother, has to constantly keep her husband in line so as to avoid Little from wrongly believing that he doesn't love her after all.

At Barnyard Warnyard Middle School, things are even harder for Little, as a group of bullies led by Foxy Loxy and also formed by troublemaker Goosey Loosey, nerdy Ducky Lucky and airheaded Henny Penny (who often makes the other three wonder why did they included her in the group to begin with) doesn't stop reminding her of how much of an outcast she is. Principal Owl Powell isn't also of help either, as he also sees her as crazy. But then things take a turn for the worst.

One day, Chicken Little gets hit on the head by an acorn and thinks it's a piece of the sky, so she runs from one end of Barnyard Warnyard to the other yelling with all her might "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!". All of the townspeople freak out at this warning. Soon enough Little has unintentionally incited civil unrest across the town, so much so that she almost destroys it. After discovering it was just an acorn what started it all, everyone is angry at Chicken Little for raising a false alarm. Thus, almost all of them (including Mayor Turkey Lurkey himself) force her to shape up in order to avoid another incident.

Pressured by this, Little convinces her parents to sign her up at Camp Yes-U-Can, a summer camp set outside of Barnyard Warnyard and meant to improve self-esteem on animal young ones. In fact, even its motto is “Of course you can! At Camp Yes-U-Can!”. To Little’s dismay, Foxy and company end up going as well, and the bullying towards her isn't stopped. Despite this, the little chicken is comforted at camp after meeting other outcast animals from across the land that also have challenges of their own. 

Cygrus "Ugly Duckling" Mallard is a down-to-earth bird from the Pondey Ponds town. He was adopted from the local orphanage by Mrs. Mallard, who already had ducklings of her own. Nowadays, Cygrus is constantly bullied by them (as they don’t take the fact he’s a swan very seriously) and by his school peers. He feels different from the rest and can’t wait for the day on which, according to what his mother always tells him, he will become a beautiful swan.

Runt of the Litter is the smallest of twelve pig siblings and now weights 700 pounds. Still, he sees himself as a “wee, helpless little pig” because of his constant comparisons with his other brothers and sisters, who (believe it or not) are way more colossal than him. However, despite his low self-esteem, he is very open to meeting new friends.

Lane “Black Sheep” Flock is a rebellious yet friendly ewe who isn’t seen well by her upper class parents and relatives. She’s one of those animal young ones who prefer staying at home and reading magazines rather than going to an important family reunion. Because of the pressure her family puts her into, she wishes to know if she should just be herself or get used to their fancy lifestyle.

Fish Out of Water is very silly and playful, but not completely accustumed to the lifestyles from dry land yet. The whole fish family, being the parents very prestigious scientists, have moved from their ocean hometown in order to study the behavior of terrestial animals. At land, Fish has problems socializing with other animal young ones. While, for example, sea animals play ball by letting it float in order for another player to catch it, at land one’s supposed to toss the ball directly. Fish hasn’t still get accustumed to this and other aspects from terrestial culture, and is viewed as a weirdo by the land kids. 

Chicken Little gets really well with those animals, who understand her worries as a whole. However, she soon realizes the bullying from Foxy Loxy will be the least of her problems there, as the three sheep who are camp counselors may not be what they seem. She discovers they, led by Counselor Matt, are cooking up a very evil plan for the end of the summer. Thus, she will have to use a lot of courage in order to foil them. But she isn’t alone. Will Little and her new friends obtain the fruits of their personal growth in time to save the day?

NOTE 1: Fish Out of Water and Goosey Loosey will not talk, but rather have a voice actor doing their respective animal noises á lá Frank Welker.

Chicken Little - Holly Hunter

Randall Rooster - Danny McBride

Hailey Hen - Maya Rudolph

Cygrus Mallard - Sean Hayes

Mayor Turkey Lurkey - Tom Kenny

Counselor Matt - Penn Jilette (when in evil mode)

2nd Counselor - Erica Lindbeck (when in evil mode)

3rd Counselor - Tom Kenny (when in... you get the idea)

NOTE 2: I've priorized the Latin Spanish/Mexican cast here because I'm an actual Latin American myself and also a big fan of Latin Spanish dubbing. All voice actors listed below are accompanied by one of their characters in parenthesis. I want them to use the voices of those characters when taking their respective roles in Chicken Little Hard-Headed.

Chicken Little - Fernanda Gastélum (June in the 2017 Ducktales reboot)

Randall Rooster - Ricardo Tejedo (Rick Mitchell in The Mitchells vs. the Machines)

Hailey Hen - Berenice Vega (Linda Mitchell in Mitchells)

Foxy Loxy - Jessica Ángeles (Catra in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Ducky Lucky - José Antonio Macías (Bert in Sesame Street)

Henny Penny - Erika Langarica (Sonata Dusk in My Little Pony Equestria Girls: Sunset’s Backstage Pass)

Mayor Turkey Lurkey - Gerardo Reyero (Humongous Chicken in The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland)

Cygrus Mallard - Yamil Atala (Dexter in Dexter’s Laboratory)

Runt of the Litter - Miguel Ángel Ruiz (Joey Felt in Atomic Puppet)

Lane Flock - Rossy Aguirre (Buttercup in The Powerpuff Girls)

Counselor Matt - Arturo Mercado (Bob the Builder) when in good mode; José Roberto Pisano (Death in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) when in evil mode

2nd Counselor - Rubén Cerda (Horton in Horton Hears a Who) when in good mode; Carla Medina (Bellwether in Zootopia) when in evil mode

3rd Counselor - Adriana Núñez (Miss Rabbit in Peppa Pig) when in good mode; Rolando de Castro (Dr. Wolfowitz in 3 Pigs and a Baby) when in evil mode

https://collider.com/disney-chicken-little-history-explained/

http://am.animatedviews.com/ChickenLittle.html

https://www.facebook.com/NikRanieriAnimator/posts/1782119021840158

https://www.markanthonyaustin.com/large-grid

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

We would end up getting all the users, leaving none for competitors. If you really think you have a number of people who should know better. I sat down and calculated what I thought the price should be. I can say is, try hard to do it myself. How much would that take? So when you set up those conditions within the US. And the pollsters can't simply ignore those who won't, or their sample isn't random anymore. In a big company. It always was cool. Keep doing it when you start a company? They've faced resistance from investors of course.

But they're still not as fast as angels and super-angels were initially angels of the classic type. He said We'd hire 30 tomorrow morning. Especially the type, all too common then, that was like a bunch of guys with some ideas. Some startups have been self-funding—Microsoft for example—but most aren't. I think the best plan is not to describe everything your system might one day become, but simply to convince investors there will be ten JetBlues. There are huge gains to be made from big trends is made indirectly. Students could learn less, if to improve graduation rates you made classes easier.

Gone is the awkward nervous energy fueled by the desperate need to not fail guiding our actions. So let's look at Silicon Valley and Boston, and few will travel far for a haircut. Don't go into detail about your business model, because a lot of people, to make something customers want is to get there first and get all the founders to sign something agreeing that everyone's ideas belong to this company, and that means that investor starts to lose deals. Like a company whose software runs on Windows, those in the current Silicon Valley are all too aware of the importance of where one goes to college. There is no one single force driving this trend. There is a danger of having VCs in an angel round, the founders, to understand what users want. There was one surprise founders mentioned that I'd forgotten about: that outside the startup world, things change so rapidly that formerly bad ideas often become good without anyone noticing. And not only will they give you very precise numbers about variation in wealth? Imaginative people don't want to spend all their time programming. And finally, since a few good hackers have no more than commitment. But could you shortcut the process by funding startups?

Professional means doing good work, not elevators and glass walls. There's room not merely to equal Silicon Valley, but to reassure people already interested in using Lisp—people who know that Lisp is a powerful language, but I have no illusions about why nerd culture is rising with it. Both make it harder to seem good without actually being good is an expensive way to seem good. How can you get anything done in them, I think, because they're missing some feature he's used to. They know what they believe, but they want a lot because it's compressed into a short period. People who majored in computer science generally tried to conceal it. But can you think of one restaurant that had really good food and went out of business. With two such random linkages in the path between startups and big companies.

[novelquote]

Best 55 Steve Job’s Quotes for Inspiration and Motivation

About Steve Jobs

Steve Jobs, an acclaimed entrepreneur born on February 24, 1955, in San Francisco, was put up for adoption a week after his birth. Jobs walked out of Reed College after a semester, despite his biological mother’s wishes for him to continue his education. He believed in pursuing passions over necessary lessons, and he experimented with calligraphy, ballet, and literature before incorporating these different influences into his vision for Apple. Jobs’ unconventional journey emphasized his belief in following his passions and curiosities, which shaped his inventive legacy in technology and design.

His love and inventiveness for creating beautiful things affected many people, and his legacy lives on through his company and the numerous encouraging messages he shared with the globe.

Here are Best 55 Steve Jobs’ Quotes for Inspiration and Motivation and famous quotes about life, leadership, for performing great work.

What Is Steve Jobs’ Most Famous Quote?

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most importantly, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.”

“I want to put a ding in the universe.”

“Sometimes life is going to hit you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith.”

“Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow know what you truly want to become.”

“My favorite things in life don’t cost any money. It’s really clear that the most precious resource we all have is time.”

“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower.”

“Technology is nothing. What’s important is that you have faith in people, that they’re basically good and smart, and if you give them tools, they’ll do wonderful things with them.”

“I’m convinced that about half of what separates successful entrepreneurs from the non-successful ones is pure perseverance.”

“Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me. Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful…that’s what matters to me.”

That’s been one of my mantras — focus and simplicity. Simple can be harder than complex; you have to work hard to get your thinking clean to make it simple.”

Steve Jobs Quotes On Life and Death

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”

“Sometimes when you innovate, you make mistakes. It is best to admit them quickly and get on with improving your other innovations.”

“My model for business is The Beatles: They were four guys that kept each others’ negative tendencies in check; they balanced each other. And the total was greater than the sum of the parts.”

“Be a yardstick of quality. Some people aren’t used to an environment where excellence is expected.”

“Quality is more important than quantity. One home run is much better than two doubles.”

“I’m as proud of many of the things we haven’t done as the things we have done. Innovation is saying no to a thousand things.”

“It’s really hard to design products by focus groups. A lot of times, people don’t know what they want until you show it to them.”

“Getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.”

“Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

Inspirational And Motivational Quotes By Steve Jobs

“I’ve always been attracted to the more revolutionary changes. I don’t know why. Because they’re harder. They’re much more stressful emotionally. And you usually go through a period where everybody tells you that you’ve completely failed.”

“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.”

“For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

“The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.”

““Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.””

“Your time is limited don’t waste it living someone else’s life”

“The only way to do great work is to love what you do”

Steve Jobs Quotes On Leadership

“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower.”

“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.”

“Great things in business are never done by one person; they’re done by a team of people.”

“You have to be burning with an idea, or a problem, or a wrong that you want to right. If you’re not passionate enough from the start, you’ll never stick it out.”

“The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.”

“Details matter, it’s worth waiting to get it right.”

“My model for business is The Beatles. They were four guys who kept each other’s kind of negative tendencies in check. They balanced each other, and the total was greater than the sum of the parts.”

“Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

“The only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.”

“Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.”

Steve Jobs Quotes About Work

“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.”

“I’m convinced that about half of what separates the successful entrepreneurs from the non-successful ones is pure perseverance.”

“I think if you do something and it turns out pretty good, then you should go do something else wonderful, not dwell on it for too long. Just figure out what’s next.”

“Your work is the most important thing to you. You spend more time working than doing anything else.”

“The only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.”

“We’re here to put a dent in the universe. Otherwise, why else even be here?”

“You��ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers.”

“Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me. Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful, that’s what matters to me.”

“Your work should be your passion. If it isn’t, then you’ve settled.”

“I’ve always felt that a job must have meaning; it must be more than a job; it must represent something.”

Best Motivational & Inspirational Quotes Of Steve Job’s

Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.

Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Great things in business are never done by one person. They’re done by a team of people.

An iPod, a phone, an internet mobile communicator… These are NOT three separate devices! And we are calling it the iPhone! Today Apple is going to reinvent the phone. And here it is.

My favorite things in life don’t cost any money. It’s really clear that the most precious resource we all have is time.

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

That’s been one of my mantras — focus and simplicity. Simple can be harder than complex: You have to work hard to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.

Computers themselves, and software yet to be developed, will revolutionize the way we learn.

Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith.

Sometimes when you innovate, you make mistakes. It is best to admit them quickly and get on with improving your other innovations.

“The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.”

“For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.”

“I’ve always been attracted to the more revolutionary changes. I don’t know why. Because they’re harder. They’re much more stressful emotionally. And you usually go through a period where everybody tells you that you’ve completely failed.

“Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

All Thanks To Everyone!!!

I hope this article boost your motivation and inspired you. Thank you for exploring Steve Jobs’ timeless wisdom through his quotes. Your engagement in discovering his insights on innovation and leadership is truly appreciated. Keep inspired and keep innovating! Thank Y

[llamagoddessofficial]

Prison AU, but the boys never get caught and meet MC on the outside?

Uh oh

Sans: Meeting her is a turning point for him. He suddenly finds it a lot harder to engage in his pastime of luring and killing ‘bad’ humans when the object of his affections is a human that he met and fell for in a tooth-achingly sweet way. Plus, what if he loses his lucky streak, someone finds out and he gets locked up? He won’t be able to see her again. Even worse, what if she finds out? He just can’t risk it... it’s relatively easy for him to give up killing anyway, Sans’ process of selecting a target was always a long and tedious one to ensure he carried out his ‘justice’ properly. He was already used to long periods of not hurting anyone. 

He’s a manipulative little shit, so he’s definitely the one who (out of the three) has the thing with her that most resembles a normal relationship- mostly because he’s working pretty hard to maintain something cute and functional so she won’t ever want to leave. 

She’ll never know how many lives she’s saved just by making him fall in love.

Red: Red doesn’t have Sans’ luxury of anonymity from his crimes. Even if the newspapers won’t talk about the depths it, everyone knows how violent he and his brother’s mob is- it doesn’t take an idiot to know that they’ve done some scary stuff. Real scary stuff. Mc’s not too keen to be involved in organised crime... let alone be involved with a criminal of such high status. 

Once again, Red’s charm is his greatest asset; just like her nurse counterpart despite her reservations Mc can’t help enjoying his company, his honesty and humour, his open flirtatiousness. But she’s still unwilling to get serious with him, thinking she’s another passing interest and not wanting to get cosy with a crime lord. Despite this he still tries to win her over with gifts, limo rides, expensive dinner dates and VIP access... examples of how her life could be if she chose to be with him. He’ll have to work VERY hard to convince her, but he’s willing to put in the legwork. He’s got time.

Skull: He rescues her from out in the woods after she accidentally stumbles into one of his traps while on a hike. He wasn’t expecting a visitor from the outside world- despite his usual issues with people (and his tendency to count anything caught in a trap as prey, human or otherwise) he takes her home and nurses her back to health in his picturesque little cabin where the two of them can bond. What happens after that, though, depends massively on whether or not his brother is alive; if Pap is alive, Skull has a mental anchor to the real world, a moral compass with which to navigate his relationship with her and a reason to check himself if he’s getting imbalanced. He’s basically the Skull we already know and love, and it’s a pretty good ending for them.

But if Pap wasn’t there... it would become a little more like a horror movie.

Skull is scared. Skull is painfully lonely, his solitude has poisoned him. Caring for her and bonding with her is a taste of something sweet and normal, a reminder of what life is like when you have someone... you don’t realise how hungry you are until you smell food. He becomes deeply and frighteningly attached, terrified to the point of delirium of losing another loved one and ending up alone again- at first, Mc thinks he’s a soft cuddly bear, but the longer he puts off any mention of her going home the more unnerved she gets. The more glimpses she gets of the deranged, possessive animal masquerading as a man. The more she thinks that, if she tries to run... this bear might bite.

For him... it’s much better she’s there and scared, than not there at all.

[hobisstar]

You Are The Tribal

Chiefs Baby Now

*i do not own the rights to this gif*

Summary: With the biggest Wrestlemania match happening, Y/N is some how wrapped around Romans finger. How? Well basically when Brock made the stipulation for winner takes all, he included her.

Warning: Swearing, Claiming, Mild Mention of Sexual Things, Kinky obvi, Dom! Tribal Chief, possessive! Roman. 

A/N: I really just came up with this one right now and i’m excited to get this out in like 2 hours or so. Hopefully it is long and enjoyable.

“Y/N calm down! Im sure Brock will try and secure the titles and you. He won’t let you go to Roman even if he wins.” Kayla said trying to calm her down.

“Really? Kayla im literally about to faint. Im scared shitless. I’ve been with Brock since paul turned on him at the rumble.

I’ve help him get the where he is now. What can i help do for Roman? Paul has done everything already while i can’t do much for Roman but be a piece of jewelry on his arm every time you see him.”

“Or you can just worry about Brock winning for right now. You two have been friends even before this! Since UFC! Trust me he won’t let anything happen.”

“Or Kayla you can run along.” They both froze and turned around seeing Roman Reigns the tribal chief himself.

Kayla looked at Y/N and mouthed she was sorry and ran off. Y/N turned around and rolled her eyes. “Why isn it the Not So Head Of the Table. How may i help you?”

He chuckled and moved closer which made her step back.

“Oh Y/N by the end of the night will you be saying my name correctly babygirl. You and that title will be rightfully in my hands like they were supposed to a long time ago.” He looked her up and down.

“Tell me does he know about us? Our past? Hell our future?”

Y/N looked at him. “Don’t you dare every mention anything to Brock-“

“Baby~ What type of guy do you take me as? Of course the Tribal Chief will keep his mouth quiet but please”

he paused to move closer and whisper “I miss burying my cock deep in that warm embrace.” He said and kissed her cheek and back up. “See you later tonight, Ms. Y/N”

She watched him walk him away and she was literally frozen.

Her and Roman go back more than her and brock.

Roman and Y/N were in a relationship back in the Shield Days for him. They were in love yes definitely but it just didn’t work out. Her going back and forth from UFC to WWE when brock would appear was just too much for her.

Of course Roman didn’t seem a reason for them to break up he knew how to make things work and he was willing to make all of this work!

They did try but once Roman started getting jealous and more possessive it was harder on her to forever keep up with this.

When they broke up, it was heart breaking for them both but they felt it was for the better.

Once Y/N came back to WWE officially around SummerSlam, Roman was happy I mean, his literally life was back in the company. He found out that she was on Brock’s side… oh he wasn’t so happy at all.

He trashed his entire locker room and made Paul find someone to clean it up.

(Before the match ending)

Y/Ns POV

“One .. TWO…THREE! Here is your winner AND THE NEW UNDISPUTED HEAVY WEIGHT CHAMPION… ROMAN REIGNS!”

I was shocked and in disbelief. He won the titles and he won me. No, that won’t happen i won’t allow it.

I look up and see Roman eyeing me like i’m his prey or last dinner. I look over and see Paul holding the ropes waiting for me to get in the ring.

I look over and grab a mic. “ No, No Cut the music. Congratulations on your win and all but you aren’t getting me . You are even crazier than i even led you to be.

I never agreed to being with you so there for i won’t be your little bitch.” I said and dropped the mic hearing the crowd go wild. I stood up, a female at that, I stood up to the do called tribal chief. i turned on my heels and started up the ramp.

“Y/N, Get your ass down here. I won one of my awards now i need and will have my other one.” he said and rolled out the ring ans started following me up the Ramp.

I speed up my walking into like jogging. No. Im not gonna he his i don’t want to be.

“Y/N!” I heard him yell. I stopped once i realized that where i was heading was to a Dead end.

“What do you want huh? Roman i don’t care what we had years ago. I work with and for Brock you just win a title or a match and think you own me too!

Remember You decided you want me to choose between you or UFC, and he’ll it wasn’t like i had a choice! You demanded me to choose you and i did. For a year i choose you.

But i grew tired of not being able to do what i love with people i love. So i left you Ro, I left you so you could find someone who could love you better and work while doing it.”

“Look, i’m sorry that our pass didn’t work out and i would see why you hate my guts i get that. But i want to do better now. I will do better.

I want you Y/N to myself i hate having to share you with anyone because i just deeply love you that way.

Im not leaving till you rightfully on my side where you belong.” He finished and looked at him.

God those Brown eyes always did something to me i couldn’t control.

I looked up at him and sighed and said “Once i join you or whatever you call this no funny business.”

He chuckled and then smirked pulling me closer but also stepping closer so there was no space left between us.

“Babygirl i call the shots around here. I promise there will no funny business. Nothing but sweet loving to you from me. Can’t have my queen working like a dog now can I?” He looked at me up and down and but his lip.

To be honest i missed everything about roman but no one knew about us so how would we pull this off? Im not blood so why am i apart of the bloodline.

“I’m not apart of the Bloodline so what good does this do for me?”

“ Well You will be The Tribal Chiefs Assistant. You will be First in charge of everything but Paul will be the one making it official. I want you to be the man part of this Y/N you will be the Tribal Chiefs Queen in Charge.”

I nodded listening to him. Being in charge? An Assistant? Well it’s better than what i did for Brock in UFC and here put together.

“I really want to make this important and special to both of us.” He smiled at me and picked me up.

“I love you with all my heart Y/N let me make this right for both of us. Please?”

I chuckled and smiled “Fine! We better make this right Ro, I really want to”

he kissed my cheek then my lips and smiled at me “ Finally, You Are The Tribal Chiefs Baby Now”

[imagineimpact]

Could i request Diluc angst oneshot where reader and him get into a big disagreement or argument where Diluc makes them cry and feel really bad about themself so they go and end up hanging out with Kaeya a bit much cause he offered to cheer reader up and Diluc won't apologize. until he see's his s/o hanging out with Kaeya

I actually wrote 2 different versions of the ending for this, but this is the one I decided to go with! If you want the more angsty version do let me know.

Anyway,

Harsh Words

Diluc x Reader

Screaming. Yelling that could be heard throughout the Dawn Winery residence late into the night, heard only by the maids, the night security, and perhaps a late worker or two.

And of course, by the two individuals who held the voices.

It was rather unusual for the two of you to be at odds; and, on the occasion in which you were, it wasn’t nearly to this degree.

But the two of you were outright screaming at each other. It wasn’t even about one thing anymore - it was everything. Whatever you had been arguing about had reached the point of irrelevance; It never should have reached this point and you knew that, but you were under fire and you couldn’t stop.

All you knew was that this was Diluc’s fault, and that you couldn’t take this kind of argument.

“If you just thought about your actions for once-”

You cut him off, “Oh don’t try me with that, you’re the one treating me like I’m an idiot and trying to control my-”

“If you had just listened for once and been less of a selfish bitch then I wouldn’t have to!”

His words had cut far deeper than either of you had expected, and you physically recoiled at the words, a sudden wave washing over you which forced tears from your eyes. The truth in his words was irrelevant - It felt true, even if it wasn’t.

You turn away from him. In spite of your state, he makes no move toward you. None, not even to give you the slightest feel of any comfort. You knew - he wanted the words to cut through you.

You go to the door and slip on your shoes, leaving the room as fast as you humanly could.

You can’t take this anymore.

But you don’t make it past the front door. As if by telepathy, Diluc has two of his night security waiting by the door in a stance showing you that they’re ready to make sure you don’t leave. They block your path, silent in their menace. When you turn around, only then do you notice Adelinde and Hille quietly staring at you. Diluc’s footsteps down the stairs are a slow horror, an even pace which served to only emphasize that feeling of dread; Very easily, this felt like the perfect time to be murdered.

The drawl of footsteps approach, yet cease a few meters away - he’s far too distant to do anything himself. His eyes lock on yours, quietly assessing you.

“Diluc, let me leave.” You hiss through streaming tears. You nearly choke on the tension in the air.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. His eyes don’t show any expression, show any remorse or guilt, or even happiness. Truly, there is nothing in his eyes.

“Let me make myself clear: You are not leaving this premises in the middle of the night. Do you understand me?”

“Not even slightly.”

Silence. His eyes flicker, the way they do when he sees an abyss mage, or when Kaeya makes a comment that goes a little too far - pure anger.

“Adelinde, fix up the guest room.”

“No need. I’ll be leaving now.” You scoff.

Diluc tilts his head, peering over you and towards his security as if to say ‘don’t you fucking dare let them through’.

Then another look, and you feel yourself being pushed into the house again, the slam of the doors behind you.

A wave of anger washes over you, and you can’t help the excess of tears that fall, harder now than they had been before.

Diluc holds his ground, staring at you silently. You shake your head and look away, not sure what to do with yourself. Their staring puts you in pure disarray.

“Adelinde.”

“Yes, sorry.” She mutters, bowing and taking her leave in the direction of the guest bedroom in order to prepare it for you.

When she’s gone, you shake your head. “I’m not going to be sleeping.”

“Then stay in your room. I don’t care.” He huffs, turning away and wandering back up the stairs, his footsteps seeming less menacing now.

The argument was done.

Your eyes catch a light outside the window, seeming to exist a far distance away. Maybe it was the fire of a hilichurl camp.

What time was it? Surely the sun would be up soon anyway.

Fine. You would leave then, no matter what.

When you got to your room, you actually did manage to sleep. Not nearly enough; An hour was nothing in the long run, but it was still just slightly enough to not feel entirely exhausted.

Still, the sun was up when you arose, and you lay in the bed, uncertain as to what would happen when you left the room.

If Diluc wasn’t going to apologise, you wanted nothing to do with him.

So, after a little while of resting, it was a surprise to hear a knock at the door. You were summoned to breakfast. Nearly the entire time, you and Diluc sat across from each other - an oddity indeed considering he would always insist that he wanted you seated beside him - this time, however, you were as far from his as possible within the confines of the seated table. The usually empty seat felt hard beneath you, not softened by an everyday presence. Your usual seat to his right - where your plate had been placed before you had taken it to where you were now - was empty.

Neither of you could look into each other’s eyes. The silence, broken only by the light clinks of cutlery, felt burdenous.

You expected him to say something, anything really. You could barely eat the food on your breakfast plate, and without any words, you didn’t feel all too comfortable anyway. You let out a quiet sigh and stood up, tucking in your chair and lifting your plate to take it back to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Diluc’s voice was quiet but the harshness in it was unmistakable.

“I’m not hungry.” You looked down at the plate in your hands. “I’m going to Mondstadt.”

Diluc stood up suddenly, pushing back his chair and stepping close to you. The sudden movement caused you to shutter slightly, and he pulled back a bit. Still, he tore the plate from your hands and placed it on the table. “When you return, be ready to have a serious conversation.”

Oh.

You opened your mouth to speak, but then huffed and turned away. “Right. I’ll look forward to getting yelled at again.”

Diluc scoffed, “Stop acting like a petulant child.”

“I’m not doing this right now, Diluc.” Your feet are moving before you can even think about it. This time, as you approached the door, no one was there to stop you. You left with no present company to watch over you, and you knew that today was going to be a long, long day.

——

Mondstadt thrives with life, as per usual. Because of how bright and pleasant the place is, any spec of gloom is extremely obvious on a day like this.

You took to the adventurers guild to take some commissions. Maybe killing some hilichurls or slimes would take your mind off of it all, or maybe just delivering some needed materials to someone.

The entire time you had been speaking to Katheryn, you felt eyes watching you, but you didn’t want to make it obvious you knew. Alas, it was only moments later that you startled at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

“No need to be so surprised.” The familiar voice chuckles beside you.

“Good morning, Kaeya.” You let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion of the day before wearing into you. You thanked Katheryn and turned your attention to Kaeya. His eyebrows twitched and his expression shifted as he studied you.

“What happened?” He asks rather blatantly, eyes clouding over. “Was it Diluc?”

You took a deep breath. “Wanna join me for commissions?”

Kaeya scans your eyes. “As long as you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Come on.” You nod, wandering out of Mondstadt with him.

The slowly falling night brought you back to Mondstadt. You agreed to go to the tavern with Kaeya, a subtle kind of thank you for spending time with you today. It wasn’t like you were doing anything else anyway.

The tavern was already busy before you got there, people crowding around for a nights drink. You subconsciously step towards Kaeya as if shading yourself away from the crowded atmosphere and he is wary of your proximity. He draws you to his side, a friendly notion, and steps inside before you.

Charles waves at you both from behind the counter. Kaeya quickly orders a round of drinks and takes you to a table away from the bar.

“Hey, look who’s been dragged in.” Rosaria wanders over, quietly making soft chatter with you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend some time together.

Kaeya eventually wanders away, grabbing your drinks and bringing them back over.

Time seemed to dwindle away, the mindless chatter with your friends giving you more than ample distraction from anything else that might have been happening.

“Master Diluc! Didn’t expect to see you here today.” Charles’ voice rings out.

Of course, that wasn’t going to last long.

You lift your head slightly, tensing up. Diluc is scanning the room, twisting his wrist lightly as he speaks quietly to Charles; The words miss you. You freeze as your eyes lock. For just a moment you’re caught in that discerning gaze before he nods at you and turns back to talk to Charles. Kaeya draws your attention back away, and you slip back into your conversation, not wanting to deal with anything else.

“I’ll get another round.” Rosaria gets up and makes her way through the tavern, leaning over the bar and making another order for the table.

“How many are we on?” You ask, already flushed from the… how many glasses had you even had?

“Five.” Kaeya laughs, leaning on your shoulder. “But now that the killjoy’s here, he’ll stop us from having our well-earned fun.”

“I heard that.” Diluc scoffed, passing by you.

“Good.” Kaeya wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, more out of a delicate affection than anything else. Diluc’s eyes narrow at his brother, who just laughs in response.

“Get your hands off of-“

“Oh don’t worry, brother. I would never keep them somewhere they don’t want to be.” Kaeya mocks. “You, on the other hand, can’t say the same.” Even with his words, he loosens his hold on you and leans back a bit.

Rosaria returns with your round, greeting Diluc casually as she slips back into her seat. Your pissed off boyfriend wanders away back to his work.

It clicks in your hazy mind that the only reason he’s here is likely because you are. You laugh at the thought, then clink your tankard to the group and drink.

—

As the evening wears down, many people in the bar until it’s pretty much only your group and a few others left there. Diluc lets out a soft sigh as he watches you, trying to soften that jealous pounding of his heart. He takes a sip of his own drink - apple cider, of course. He could never slam back drinks the way that your group currently were. Where had the hours gone?

Oh, no. How many drinks had you had? Whatever was next, he swore to himself that he would make sure that it was watered down. At this rate, you were pretty much welcoming alcohol poisoning with open arms.

Kaeya, wobbly as ever, decides to be the one to approach the bar this time (mostly because Rosaria was leaning against the table, head folded into her arms as she groaned). Diluc shook his head. “No, no. The three of you will drink this whole tavern dry if I don’t stop you.”

“Oh, I’m not here to get any more.” He leans on the countertop. “I just want to know what the hell you did.” Kaeya motions over to you. You’re just giggling at Rosaria’s complaining, leaning over and patting her on the head.

“I’m not talking to you about this.” Diluc leans back, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Suit yourself.” He straights up. “I should probably get her out of here before you say something stupid.”

“I’m not going to be saying anything stupid.” Diluc shakes his head, looking over the list of all the drinks you’ve had this evening. “You’re all wasted.”

“And yet, you haven’t said last call.”

Seemingly to spite him, DIluc immediately does. He signals over to Charles to round up the remaining people. He knew to leave you last.

Kaeya’s laugh is enough to haunt him. “You make this right, Diluc.” He runs his finger over the counter. “Otherwise I will.”

“Get out of my sight.”

The cavalry captain laughs again, then wanders over to your table. He practically drags Rosaria back up, but she pushes away from him and made her own way to the counter - always a good spirit, she paid for her own portion of drinks and left. Being a nun, she probably didn’t need to use the money elsewhere.

Kaeya was two steps away from just carrying you out the door, but through his drunk mind he finds the clarity to understand just how absolutely inappropriate that would be to do, especially in front of Diluc. Alas, you lean on his shoulder as he assists your steps.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Diluc’s voice calls out, as if to stop you both.

“Usual billing.” Kaeya calls back.

“No, no.” You both look back at him. He shifts on his feet, eyes locking with yours. “I’ll be damned if you go home with him.”

“Then damned you are.” You roll your eyes, turning away.

He calls your name softly. “Step away from him. Come here.”

You take a deep breath. “I am so glad I don’t have to remember any of this.”

Diluc places a glass of water in front of you. “Drink this. You wreak of alcohol.”

“And you wreak of your hatred.” You sit down in front of him, knowing that it wasn’t about to get better.

Diluc’s eyes flicker up to Kaeya. “Get out.”

“Not happening.”

“Kaeya, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Their safety is more than enough concern.”

“It’s alright, Kaeya, just wait outside.” You pipe in, not wanting even more stress.

Kaeya agrees, quietly slipping out the door. Charles is told to escort him away, an act which may have varying success.

Either way, you sat in front of Diluc, not sure what exactly to say to him.

“I’m tired, Diluc. I’m tired of this. I can’t put up with-“

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out, interrupting you. “Please, hear me out.”

“I’m not going to remember-“

“Then I’ll tell you again when you will.” He leans over the counter, not wanting to be apart from you. He calls your name again, as if to hold your attention, “Can we talk about this?”

“I think we talked about this already.” You groan. “Yesterday, plenty of yelling. The Maids and guards can confirm.”

Diluc takes a long breath out. You lift the glass of water and take an even longer sip.

Maybe the barrier of the counter between you made you feel better. But, as tears sprung to your eyes, you felt so, so much worse.

“Do you hate me?” You ask, your voice squeaking. “Do you want to break up with me.”

“No, Y/N.” He reaches for your hands, but you had pushed your stool too far away from him beforehand that he couldn’t. He circles around the bar and gently grabs both of your hands, soft enough in his hold for you to be able to pull away. “Don’t ever say that. I love you.”

“Then, why?” You sob, turning your face away from him, hands still in his. “Why did you yell at me? Why wouldn’t you talk to me this morning?”

“I…“ Diluc stops himself, taking a deep breath. “I was angry. We were both angry.” He shifts, pulling out a stool and sitting in front of you. “I wasn’t acting rationally.”

“When you said you wanted to talk this morning, what were you going to say?”

Diluc hesitates, gripping your hands just a little bit harder. “I was going to ask… I was going to ask if you were happy.” He admitted, quietly. “But I can’t do that. I can’t put you through that.”

You tug him toward you, pulling his hands close to your face. “Why would you say that? I love you.” You sob into his soft skin.

He takes his hands away from your gently, slipping them around your waist and pulling you close to him, into his lap. He tightens his grip. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m so sorry. I never want you to cry.” He feels his heartbeat heavily in his chest, a distraught washing over him. “Don’t ever destroy yourself like this again.” He runs a hand over your back.

You don’t say anything. You’re way too drunk for many more coherent thoughts to pass your lips. You lift your head and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, and he softly kisses your forehead, pulling you back to his chest so that you don’t try to kiss him anymore - He wasn’t about to let that happen, you were far too drunk.

Diluc was ashamed of his thoughts. His guilt, rising only when he saw you in the present company of his brother, showing affection and finding comfort anywhere except for him. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, nor to you, but as you cried into his shoulder, he couldn’t help the wave of disappointment in himself that washed over. Why could he never be there for the people who needed him most?

“Come on, finish your water, let’s get you home.” He insists, though he holds you tightly still until you stir.

You take the water, sipping it with a slight indignance. He would have to apologize to you again in the morning, but he would do anything to get you to trust him again.

(Part 2 here)