#can't wait for 3.1

[milkmugishere]

i'm expecting many new phaidei fics and fanarts to be born after 3.1.

i mean look at that trailer! the stabbing, the attack-blocking!! (which somehow many missed / not many talk about it):

the teasing /jest from mydei ("even phainon can do it" , "phainon's hobby rub off...")

Mydei at the trailer intro was cute too, stumbling with his words while baking! (chef / baker mydei! bakery / coffee shop AU! aaaaaa)

(And the rumor of Nikador's failure at romance and fighting their rival..... lolll)

-

Can't wait to get him! After that I'll wait for Anaxa and Phainon <3

[applealchemist]

imaginary only is hell because i started on a banner without imaginary characters and all i have is welt (its really just a welt only challenge until i finish belobog and get HMC) so half the time i'm begging mr yang to stop dying and just kill the bitch with the black hole already

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - The Contract (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Once again playing with something new. Not gonna lie, hated this because this was more work than I had expected. Next one will be more narrative for my sake Warnings: MDNI, Angst (ALSO PUT YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO CAUSE I DO BLOCK)

Contract of Employment - Intelligence Operative Name: [Retracted] Address: [Retracted] The basic terms and conditions of your employment are outlined in this Contract of Employment and the Employee's policies. Duration of Contract: Your employment with the Employer under this Contract started on [Retracted] and will end after 12 months after the initial date. Contract can be renewed after the Employee ends in good standing with the Employer after the 12 months and the Employee deems it a good fit.

Job Title and Hours 3.1: You are employed as INTELLIGENCE OPERATIVE for [Retracted] reporting to "the Captain." 3.2: You are expected to perform all duties outlined below starting at 0800 (8:00am) to 1700 (5pm) Monday through Friday. 3.3: You must be available for any extenuating circumstances past these hours. All emergencies will be informed by "the Captain" and "the Captain" only.

Price: Need you to review the plan for the next mission before the meeting tomorrow.

Ghost groans after reading the message. Price just had to ruin his Sunday night. Realizing that his plan to sleep in was just ruined, he decides to text you. Seeing that you normally got in around that hour, maybe you could join him?

Did he deserve that? God no. But, he missed you. So he sends the text and waits... and waits... and waits...

Next thing he knew, his alarm was ringing, signaling the new day. He checks his phone and sees there are no new messages. It didn't matter. He'll see you around soon enough.

But soon enough comes around and you're nowhere to be seen. Were you running late? Shit, your car. Maybe you were walking again? He sends you a text, but again, no response. He's so worried that he can't even focus when looking over the plans. It's not until he sees you walk in for the meeting exactly at 0800 that his mind eases. Surprised to see you walk in late, he decided to check up on you after the meeting.

Knock, knock

You glance up from your monitor. "Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant? Sure, that was his title, but you always called him Ghost. Something didn't feel right.

"Sorry, I just wanted to check up on you."

You stop typing and completely turn towards him. "Why?" Your tone is accusatory.

He stumbles a bit. You were never short with him. "C-cause you came in late toda--"

"I did not come in late. If you look over my contract, you would see that my start time is 0800, exactly the time I clocked in today." You turn back to your monitor and continue to work.

Ghost takes a big gulp. "Oh. I- uh... I sent you message last night and this morning."

You let out a heavy sigh and stop typing. "Was it an emergency?"

"No, but--"

"Good. I can't waste any time here, have to make sure I put all of my energy in my work. So if you don't have anything else of importance, you can leave." And with that you continue to type.

Ghost walks out of your office and closes the door. Why did it feel like it wasn't just your door that was closed here?

Job Responsibilities 4.1: You are responsible for all work that requires intelligence which includes analysis, gathering of intel, and presentation of said intel. 4.2: You will not participate in work that falls outside your jurisdiction.

After today's meeting, Gaz was weary of the plan. Despite being checked by Ghost, he couldn't help but feel like it needed to be discussed further. He kept in his thoughts during the meeting as he wanted to process them further.

Now after thinking about it all morning, he realizes he needs one more brain to help finalize his thoughts. Not just any brain, however, yours. If he wasn't so caught up in his thoughts, he would have realized that he no longer had any entitlement to your help. But alas without a second thought, he rushes to your office.

He knocks on your door and walks in before you have a chance to say anything. "Hello, hello!" he chirps. And, instead of being greeted by your warm smile, he is greeted by nothing. You don't even bother to glance at him.

Without removing your eyes on the screen, you say with no emotion, "Sergeant Garrick, what do you need?"

Sergeant Garrick? Ewe, that sounded so wrong coming out of your mouth. You always called him Kyle... Gaz if you felt cheeky. Feeling nervous now, Gaz hesitates to speak.

"Sergeant, I really don't have time for your shenanigans. Do you need something?" You quickly glance up and shoot him a sharp look.

That look brings Kyle to the present. "Sorry, yes. I was hoping you would..." You finally look at him, but instead of easing his nerves, it only exacerbated them as you looked at him with annoyance. "If you can, obviously, help me go over the plans for the next mission. Something about them just seem off and I could really--"

You interrupt him. "I have to stop you there. No." And just like that, you turn back to your monitor.

"Why?" he asks without thinking. He catches the way you took in a sharp breath.

Without looking at him, you respond, "I have never been in the field so what use do I have for you? Besides my job is in intelligence and in intelligence only."

He cringes at his own words. He tries to get another word in, but you're clearly not listening. Feeling defeated, he walks out your door.

"Sergeant?" you call after him. He quickly whips around. Maybe you changed your mind?

"Close my door."

Job Responsibilities 5.1: You have jurisdiction over all work that deals with intelligence. 5.2: You have complete authority to discipline officers of lower ranking or similar rank if their actions interfere with your responsibilities.

Soap doesn't know how it happened. He has been in his office all day, working. Sure, maybe he spent more time than he should have thinking about you, but everyone else does it. Now he was scrambling, trying to finalize the schematics for the explosives needed for the next mission.

Low on time, he rushes to your office to beg for your help. He knew he was in deep water with you, but he really had no choice. He hoped your caring heart would pity him this one last time.

He barges into your office, calling your name out. You immediately shoot up from your seat, worry apparent in your face. You hurry to the front of your desk to reach the panting Scotsman.

"Sergeant MacTavish, is everything okay?" Johnny can hear the worry in your voice. Good, you still might care.

"It's an emergency. I need to finish these blueprints by today or Price will kill me! Help your favorite Scotsman out?" he begs. Soap nearly whines when you take a step back from him.

You scoff. "Are you being serious right now?" Okay, maybe you don't care.

"I know, I know. But I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate," he cries. His entire body shudders when you scoff at him once more. You shake your head in disbelief and return to your seat.

"Please, get out."

"Please, it's not even a lot. Just go over--"

"No, Sergeant. I have my own work to do."

"It won't take a lot of time, just--"

"NO!" you stand up again, slamming your desk. "Sergeant MacTavish, it is not in my contract to babysit fools like you." He winces. "If you cannot handle the work that comes with being in Special Forces, I recommend you to consider other careers. So leave my office before I write you up for insubordination," you hiss.

Soap quickly apologizes and leaves your office. He bumps into Price on his way back, but it doesn't phase him. Your utter disappointment in him plays back in his head over and over and over again.

Breach of Contract 8.1: If Employer deems the work of the Employee as unsatisfactory, contract will immediately be terminated. 8.2: If Employee deems the Employer is breaching any of the parts outlined above, Employee has the right to terminate the contract without any repercussions

John didn't take Soap crashing into him personal. It was clear his sergeant was lost in his thoughts. What did pique his interest was where he walked out of. It seemed like every member on his team had a chance to pop in your office today, but him. Refusing to let any of those muppets get in your good graces before he does, he decided to pop in.

Since Johnny left you door open, he just knocks on the doorway before letting himself in. "Hopefully, I'm not disturbing?" he jokes. The clacking of your keyboard stops and you slowly turn to look at him. You take in a deep breath, almost as if you're trying to contain yourself.

"Captain Price," you announce plainly, "do you need something? I'm almost done with today's report."

"No, not at all. Just wanted to check up on you. See how you're doing?" He doesn't quite catch what you mumbled under your breath. "Sorry?"

You roll your eyes. "Nothing," you pause. "I'm fine. Just trying to get my work done before 5pm."

"5pm? Have an appointment or something?"

You stare at him for a bit and remind him of your contracted hours.

Assuming that you were worried about not finishing on time, John assures you that you can always stay in late or pick up again tomorrow. "It happens to the best of us."

Your eyes go cold. "It wouldn't have happened to me if your men and yourself weren't adamant in harassing me with matters that frankly do not pertain to me." You readjust yourself in your seat. "I advise all of you to go over my contract to avoid further misunderstandings. I would hate to leave mid-mission."

John goes cold. You... leaving. He looks in your eyes to see if there was any hesitation. There’s none.

Employer Signature: [Retracted] Employee Signature: [Retracted] Date: [Retracted]

After that day, the 141 realized what they had done. They had completely crushed your spirit and pushed you to be the epitome of professionalism. You were still a phenomenal Intelligence Officer, but you were just that. You were no longer their team mate... their friend.

But you're still here so that's fine... right?

Word Count: 1732

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[queenquinzel715]

3.1 Halforc Rothwell

Wrd count 2,469

Princess (Y/n) P.O.V.

When I turned fourteen I knew things were going to change in the worst possible way. I saw the royal doctors leaving my mother's chambers, and her ladies in waiting looking down so upset. I had just turned sixteen when I got woken by my mother's closest lady in waiting telling me to come quickly. I sat with my mother for an hour when she finally let go. My father stood by the door silently crying to himself. They did actually love each other.

That night my life became hectic. I took over Queen duties for the kingdom. Which is no problem, however my father's advisors are like the devil in his ear. My father is so poor minded that the lies they tell him he believes them. I do feel bad for my father. He was just a guard when he and my mother, the princess, fell for each other. He does care for our people, he just doesn't understand how to communicate with them, so he leaves it to William. William is the head guard that is supposed to help my people when they need it, but he's just a tyrant.

Like today, William and Henry, the main advisor, are telling my father that the creatures that are coming to do trade are tricking my father. They are telling him that these creatures are raiding savages. I've heard enough from these two.

"Alright that's enough. What are your sources for all this?" I stop them just as they walk to the maps to map out an attack on the incoming ships. "My sources tell me the reason for any attacks was that the Tearings Kingdom enslaved them." I look at my father's indecisive face.

"I have insiders in the Silentdew Kingdom, Sire." Henry boosts with a mocking smile.

"I don't remember a ship leaving for that long of a voyage, so when was this?"

I'm completely ignored.

"These creatures are here simply for land. I myself have sent letters with their King, so I will not have these stories to be spread. If no problems are caused then no problems will occur. They should be docking in just three days, and we must greet them accordingly." My father takes over. He turns to me. "(Y/n) I need you to be there for their reassurance that we give faith into our new arrangements." I give my father a reassuring smile.

"I was hoping to meet them at dinner." I try to sound proper, not too obvious.

"I know, I know. I just need them to know even with your own… legacy, we are here united for good reasons." I laugh at his pausing for the right words.

What he had difficulty with is my true title. Queen General (full name). At fourteen my mother insisted my father train me in some sort of defense. What she didn't expect was for me to get completely infatuated with fighting, and well I became General after my eighteenth birthday. No one argued the title placement, because they knew I actually worked for it. Sadly I had to give that title to William last year when I turned twenty. My father told me it was time for me to settle down, so he's been finding suitors for me. Most of them did seem good on paper, so I don't fault my father on that point. It's just when they open their mouths nothing intelligent comes out just pompous showboating, or their egos get destroyed from my legacy. At least my father doesn't fight me when I tell him I won't marry them.

Besides, my biggest problem is dealing with an overly cocky William. He's been following me around assuming I'm turning the suitors away for him, because we've known each other since childhood. Granted as a child he was better to tolerate. Over the years I've learned just the type of man he's become, and the amount of female servants I've helped from his whole group. My mother taught me very early that I can't stop men like that, so that's why the only females that work in my castle are my own close ladies. I have made an example of what happens when I catch you in certain acts which helped the women in the town as well. Sadly mother was right. That's why I pray to her that I'm right with these creatures that come here, they docked yesterday. Tomorrow I will actually meet their leader, and have dinner.

This morning I'm woken up by my ladies to get ready for the creature's arrival. They should be here by midday, and by then I should have my nerves somewhat controlled. Which doesn't seem fruitful when the laces of my dress are being pulled back to cut my breathing off. I wasn't used to these formal dresses, and hair styling anymore. I mostly stayed in work dresses, and kept my hair braided to the side. I look like my mother with my hair like this, and she'd love this.

I walked down the main steps as the gates opened for three mountainous horses carrying orcs. I come to a stop in the only open place next to my father. Of course it's next to William. I keep myself looking at the gorgeous horses, but I'm stuck on the short haired one with a scruff-like beard. His yellow eyes scan the crowd, they seem to shine with curiosity as he sees something new.

"I like your hair this way, Princess." William takes me away from the orc. "I wanted to surprise you, but Friday I'm telling your father about us." I feel his hand move along my arm. "I can't let you keep this charade of the suitors." The entire feeling from him makes me nervous, causing me to move away immediately.

I hear him chuckling as I step to my father as he steps closer with the orcs following. Once I take a deep breath I realize I didn't hold my composure when my face relaxes. My father introduces me to Lord Rothwell and his guards. I look up at him in amazement as I outstretch my hand.

"Welcome Sir Rothwell." I offer him my hand.

"I'm very happy to be here, My Lady." His smile brings his tusk to a better view as he brings my hand to meet his lips, letting me feel just how smooth his tusks are.

Throughout the day, we are in the meeting hall going over the maps showing them their lands, and discussing laws. I was surprised when we have similar laws, granted they had more for the different creatures, which they gave us their law books.

Once dinner is served, it's like we have all known each other for years with the laughter coming from the dining hall. I sit left of my father as Rothwell sits across from me. I could listen to him talk about his people all night. He talks with such passion, the way his eyes light up when he speaks of certain people, well creatures.

"I'm glad we are on the same page about this settlement." I'm father raises his cup to cheer.

"Yes, I like how we are using the river as a boundary. It is very clever. That way no one can say they don't know where they are going." He cheers with my father.

"That was (y/n)'s idea. I swear if you spend a day with her you'd be amazed with what she comes up with." Father laughs as he shakes my shoulder making my food fall off my spoon.

"I'd love to spend a day with you." Rothwell looks me in the eyes as he says this, his voice makes my ankles lock together on their own.

"Sir Rothwell, do you hope this is a permanent settlement or just for the resources?" I generally want to know for my own knowledge and my kingdom's.

"Completely permanent, Princess." He smirks once responded.

My father grabs Rothwell's attention for some battle stories, but William decides now will be best to slide into the seat next to mine. I roll my eyes at his drunken smile.

"Father?" I try to properly get his attention.

"I was thinking about sunset for our ceremony." William begins. "The windows in the church shine perfectly at that time." He reaches for my piece of hair, but I move back.

I look back to my father to see him still talking, but Rothwell is eyeing William with hard eyes. William leans closer to continue his wedding talk, trying to touch me, making me grip my eating knife. He goes to reach for me again, and I snap. I push him back with my knife pointed at his lower rib. He drops his cup, leaving the wine to puddle the floor, and raises his hands. I slightly lean forward with my eyes locked on his terror filled ones.

"I've tolerated you all day, with your wedding bullshit talk, and you trying to touch me." He goes to speak, but me pushing the knife slightly further makes him stop. "If you so much as think of coming near me in the next couple of days. I swear the moment my eyes land on you I will cut your ribs out right there. Am I understood?" I sternly finish with a last push of the knife.

"Yes, Princess. I'm terribly sorry I won't bother you again." He rushes out his apologies as he nods quickly.

I raise my knife to the side for him to shakily run to the doors of the dining hall. Everyone is still silent as I turn back to my food. As I bite into my food I look up to Rothwell slightly biting his lower lip. I can feel my neck up to my face get hot as I look back down to my plate. Everyone starts to mumble about me as they get back to dinner.

"Daughter, must you embarrass the poor boy." Father laughs as he fills my cup with wine.

"Yes I must. Animals like him don't listen to normal talk, so I must get straight to the point." I take a big gulp of my wine as I stand. "Well goodnight father, enjoy your night." I kiss my father on the forehead. "Please don't get him completely gone. I'd like him to be somewhat functional." I laugh with Rothwell as the others raise their cups to me.

I walk to my chambers with an orc on my mind, and how my mother would be shocked that this is who I'm thinking about. Once in my chambers I change into my night dress getting comfortable as the night bonfire is lit in town Square. I lean against the balcony door crossing my arms at William's nonsense. I'm brought out of my thoughts as a crowd forms, and William steps through along with Rothwell. I could finally see that Rothwell is three feet taller than William, and is much bigger as well. The small group that came with Rothwell cheers for Rothwell as the fight starts. I watch as Rothwell practically throws William like a child around the circle. William slides along the ground making me laugh, and Rothwell raises his arms as he roars in celebration with his men. One of the creature men point up toward me, making him look up at me. I give him a sarcastic clap, but inside I want to scream for him. His roar was much louder as his men crowd him like he won something. William steps back to him in a drunken like sway, maybe it's a painful sway. Rothwell swats the air telling him he's done, but William says something that's obviously antagonizing. Rothwell actually throws him this time, but I feel that still wasn't his full strength. I watch William use his horse to stand. Rothwell walks away with his group of men as my men get back to work on the weapons. William however takes his sword from the sheath he keeps on his horse, and runs toward Rothwell with the sword high in the air. I grab a book that I left on the balcony, and throw it at Rothwell. It hits one of his men, making him turn to me. I just point at William. I quickly run down the stairs as the yelling echoes off the walls. They grow louder as I get to the Town Square. I signal to the cannon gunners to shoot a cannon. My men stop, and stand to attention. The creatures slowly stand to their feet. I step calmly through the sea of men to the ones that are still gripping onto each other. I take the sword of one of the closest men.

"Enough!" I use the sword to push William back.

Once he sees it's me he falls to his knees.

"Meeting hall, NOW!" My voice booms off the walls.

As I follow the two men into the hall my father is standing there with an angry expression. As I walk around them I throw the sword into a table. I look at the marks William somehow got on Rothwell with worry, but when I look at how William looks I couldn't hold my smirk.

"I don't mind when you men fight for show or for your own amusement. However I will not tolerate you having war IN THE MIDDLE OF MY KINGDOM!" My father yells out like he never has before. "Not only did you want to spar with an orc, you tried to strike an unarmed man in the back." My father speaks in shame at William. "Lets not begin to discuss what happened at dinner with my daughter." He turns to me. "Why was he threatened anyway?"

"Well throughout the day he has tried grabbing me, telling me that I am to marry him, and how the suitors I've declined were for his benefit." I tell my father honestly.

While I explain to my father Rothwell snaps his head to William like he actually wants to kill him.

"Guards!" Father suddenly yells, making me jump in surprise. "Lock William in the tunnels until I can deal with him in the morning." William is pleading as he is being pulled out once he's gone father sits with a deep sigh. "I should've done that years ago." He looks up at me as he rests his head on his fingertips looking between me and Rothwell. "Hmm well. Should we start the courting process?" He asks Rothwell with a no tolerance voice.

"Yes." Is all Rothwell says with a last look at me before storming out.

"Courting process?" I question my father.

He just dismisses me to bed, and tells me to enjoy the gifts.

[the-marshals-wife]

No More Tears (Oz Cobb x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: First fic of the year. 🥂 Writing this was extremely cathartic, as was binging The Penguin twice over my winter break. The brainrot is severe, for which there is no cure but this. Oz is very protective of what's his, and as it turns out, that includes you.

Description: Oz Cobb/The Penguin x Fem!Reader, angst / hurt+comfort (plus a teeny bit of ending fluff) | Rating: MATURE for violent content and adult themes | Warnings: violence and blood, injuries described, mild language, name-calling (not towards Reader), alcohol, drugs mentioned (drops), suggestive themes, pet names (endearing), Reader is injured by a club guest and Oz beats the daylights out of the culprit. | Setting: before the events of The Batman | Word count: 3.1 k

Imagine Oz finding out that you've been hurt, and getting sweet revenge

The throbbing in your temple brings tears to your eyes, and your hands shake as you cradle the side of your face. You draw in a sharp breath, the cool metal of the elevator wall against your back grounding you a bit. Several excruciating seconds later, the doors open, and you resurface from the 44 Below much more battered than when you went in. As the pain starts to intensify, you look for somewhere to retreat out of view. The last thing you needed was anyone seeing you weak.

Of course, there was hardly such a place within the walls of the Iceberg Lounge. With few other options, you make a bee-line for the bathroom. No one seems to notice you in your afflicted state as you rush through the dressing area and out into the upper-level of the club. The flashing of the strobe lights normally didn't phase you, but now they feel like ice picks in your eye sockets. Only halfway to your destination and several more flights of stairs ahead, you can barely hear the thundering base of the club music over the pounding of your heartbeat. Suddenly your vision blurs, and you quickly grab onto the railing to steady yourself.

There are people on every side, but they're far too deep in their drinks, drugs, and pleasant company to notice you. For once, you're grateful for it.

"Concussed by some worthless drophead," you mutter, your head swimming. It had been a mistake to look down over the edge.

You stand up to go lean on the wall instead, but you catch sight of your hands. You look down at your fingers to see them smeared with blood. Your stomach twists with sickened realization. When the creep downstairs backhanded you, his ring must have cut you open.

Before you can speak the curses on your tongue, you hear your name being shouted. Even in your dazed state, you recognize the voice of your coworker.

"Y/N," she calls out again, her voice barely rising above the dull roar.

You sway around to face her, and her shock is immediate, as expected.

"Oh-," she exclaims, wide-eyed, "Are you good?"

"Not exactly," you answer, wincing, "Drophead got handsy."

"They always do," she says, shaking her head. Her nervous smile turns to a full grimace. "Oz wants to see you."

The boiling fury in your veins instantly transforms into frigid panic. "You gotta find someone else. I can't do it. He cannot see me like this."

"He asked for you specifically," she replies, shrugging. "You better get up there. Try to hide it with your hair."

With that piece of advice, she walked away. You couldn't blame her. She had her orders, and you had yours. If only they'd come just a few minutes earlier.

Righting yourself, you wipe your bloodied hands on your navy blue skirt, and pull the pins from your hair, letting it fall down around your face. You tousle it with your crimson stained fingers as much as you can, but even if you had a mirror, you know full well that no amount of tugging at your bangs could fully conceal the gash in your brow. Still, it would have to do. You can't keep Oz waiting.

Exhaling, you start the climb back up to his office. The pain in your head burns deep, but at least the dizziness had subsided somewhat. That was the only thing you had in your favor at the moment. Your aching mind reels over what awaited you. Surely Oz would be upset with you. It was your job to keep guests happy, and your face was damning evidence of your failure. It didn't matter if that guest was a privileged scum-sucking loser too strung-out to form an intelligent thought. He was decidedly unhappy, and now you would have to accept the consequences.

Walking back through where you'd just come from and entering the corridor of the sequestered alcove, you can only pray that Oz is somehow distracted enough with business not to look up. The rattling of the parted bead curtain announces your arrival, and as you step through, it's immediately clear that your prayer fell upon deaf ears.

"There she is," Oz greets with a wide smile, "Come on in, sweetheart."

He waits expectantly on the couch by the window, the murky glow of the club lights shining behind him.

In vain, you keep your chin lowered and your hands clasped firmly behind your back.

"You wanted to see me?" you reply, avoiding his eyes.

"Of course I do. I always want to see you, baby," he answers, waving you forward, "Come here and tell me about your night. How are things goin' downstairs? You holdin' up alright?"

Swallowing hard, you obey and sit down on your hands beside him. You feel your limbs trembling as you search for your words.

"It's good. Busy, busy night," you reply, nodding.

Before he even speaks, you can sense Oz's gaze on you, and just how skeptical it is.

"Good? Just good? So stiff all of a sudden!" he scoffs lightheartedly, "You feelin' okay, baby? You're usually my little chatterbox."

You open your dry mouth to answer, deciding to confess the truth, but he's already reaching to brush your hair behind your ear. The revealed wound speaks for itself, and you flinch as strands of your hair catch on the fresh, open skin.

"Who did this to you?"

The restrained rage in his voice sends a chill down your spine.

"Y/N. Who did this thing to you, sweetheart?" he urges.

He gently grabs your chin and turns your head towards him. Both his touch and his tone are soft, but in his dark eyes there is an unmistakable wrath.

You stare at him in total confusion, unsure if you should feel comforted or in dread. This isn't the reaction you'd expected. Not in your wildest dreams.

"It was...some drophead. Corporate type," you hesitate, composing yourself, "He wanted me to leave with him. I kept telling him no, but he wouldn't lay off. Then he got fresh and I pushed away. That's when I caught the backside of his hand with my face. He was hammered, but it was no accident. His ring's what cut me."

Oz sits back, twitching in agitation. "When was this?"

"About ten minutes ago," you reply, "I'll be alright, Oz. I just need to clean up. It's not a big deal."

"The hell it ain't!" he denies.

His outburst startles you a bit, but you could tell it was not towards you.

A heated moment passes, and his temper calms once more. He leans forward again, touching your arm soothingly.

"You ain't done nothing wrong, baby. I'm gonna take care of this," he assures, "Can you describe him to me? He and I need to have a little talk about manners."

You smirk. "Definitely."

☂︎

A few minutes later, you're standing in the corner of the room with a cold drink in one hand, and a towel pressed to your stinging temple in the other. While Oz sent the Twins downstairs to retrieve your assailant, you'd finally gotten a moment to check your reflection in the mirror and inspect the damage. The gash was deep, but luckily not too wide. You would need stitches, and there'd undoubtedly be a scar for you to remember tonight by, but the doctor could wait. With the bleeding slowing at last, you waited with quiet anticipation to see if the sleaze would get a taste of his own medicine. Meanwhile, Oz stands by the window with his hands in his pockets, looking down in silence at the dancing throngs below.

Your shared reverie is broken by the arrival of the Twins, each dragging the man by one of his arms. Somehow, he seems twice as wasted as before. Now he's barely able to hold his head up.

Oz turns around and looks to you, gesturing. "This the gentleman?" He says the last word with no small amount of disdain.

You nod, biting down hard on your lip.

With that, they unceremoniously toss the guy into the chair in front of the vanity.

"Nice work, fellas," says Oz, giving them a pointed look, "Give us a minute here. Don't go too far."

They nod in confirmation and exit as swiftly as they'd come.

You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with how close the lowlife is to you again. The familiar smell of vodka, drops, and sweat burns your nose. You half have a mind to dump the rest of your own drink out on his head, if only to douse the odor. The other half of you is afraid of what might happen if you do.

As if he'd read your uneasy mind, Oz invites you over to his side of the room. "Come over here, sweetheart. Why don't you have a seat? You should be resting in your condition."

More than happy to oblige, you set what remains of your liquid painkiller down on the crystal table and return to your place on the couch.

"What's going on," the man finally speaks, his words slurring together. Then he sets his intoxicated gaze on you, and his bloodshot eyes narrow in recognition. "You...I know you..."

You frown, folding your arms over your chest in response.

"You don't talk to her. You talk to me," Oz interjects, stepping forward.

"And...you are?" he replies hazily, furrowing his brow with indignance.

"I'm the manager of this club, pal," he answers, taking on a cool tone of superiority, "Now, I don't know you. Based on that suit you got, I'm guessin' your checkbook is bigger than the average drophead's. And maybe outside of these walls, you're some bigshot who can do whatever he likes, to whomever he likes. But in here, you're in my world."

Before Oz finishes speaking, the man's eyelids begin to flutter. It's quickly becoming clear that he's losing the battle for consciousness.

Oz glances over his shoulder at you exasperated.

"Geez, how many friggin' drops has this sack of crap had?" He snaps his fingers in the guy's face. "Hey pal, you mind joining us here back on planet Earth for a moment? I'm tryna teach you something."

The loser rapidly blinks and rouses, violently wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"There you go, that's better," Oz says, stooping to be eyelevel with the guy, "Like I was sayin'. You're in my world. And here, we got rules. They're very simple. So simple, even a miserable little roach like you can understand 'em."

Oz lightly slaps the man's cheek and stands upright once more. He proceeds to remove his suit jacket and lay it on the nearby vanity. Your pulse quickens as he continues his monologue.

"There are some rules you can bend. Hell, there's even a few you can break once or twice and I'll look the other way. But there's one rule that you never, ever break. And that, is where you messed up, pal."

You're frozen in place, your heart full on racing watching Oz roll up his crisp white shirt sleeves.

"I...wait-just, hold on," the slimeball stammers. Every trace of arrogance had vanished, along with all the color in his face. He scrambles in an attempt to right himself, but he's far too inebriated to escape. At last, he was horrifically aware of situation he was in. He raises his now shaking hands in front of him, and you can't help but grin in satisfaction.

"You never hit a lady," Oz seethes, grabbing the guy's coat collar in his fists, "It seems you need a reminder of that. So I'm gonna give you one won't forget."

A yelp escapes the man's chapped lips as Oz hurls a right hook into his jaw. His arms go limp from the impact, and they only flop about from there as Oz lands another punch. You gape at the massive cut sliced into the guy's cheek by Oz's own ring.

"How do you like it, huh? Stings, don't it?"

In his drug-induced stupor, the drophead makes no attempt to fight back. All he can muster is an agonized moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

This only serves to enrage your boss further. Oz grabs the guy's collar again, this time tugging him forward out of the chair. His skull hits the floor with a nauseating crack. The sound, and the convulsing that follows, doesn't deter Oz, however. He hoists the man up with a strength that surprises you and pushes him against the brick wall.

Miraculously, the pathetic soul was still conscious, if just barely. The blood dripping from his mouth deepens the pit in your stomach, but you don't turn away.

Oz shoves the man's head to turn your direction.

"You think you can come in here and do that to one of my girls? Huh? Look at her face. You piece of rat filth!" he shouts, punching him in his ribs, "How dare you touch her. I oughta cut your hand off and feed it to ya!"

He proceeds to lay into him with a ferocity you can scarily believe. Every blow is more brutal than the last, each one punctuated by infuriated curses. Each time the lucid fool slumps forward from the impact, Oz sends him back with another slug to gut or head. It feels like an eternity passes before he finally has his fill of retribution and lets the man fall at his feet.

You peer at the unmoving heap, searching for signs of life, but your focus quickly shifts back Oz. He stands with his back to you, still muttering incensed profanities between heaving breaths.

This was a side of him you'd caught glimpses of, but never fully witnessed. Perhaps not many had. The fury that flowed through him certainly stemmed from more than revenge for tonight's incident. You imagined there was probably a lifetime of buried rage behind every blow struck. The thought of where such intense anger came from, and how much more there might be deep inside him, made you shudder.

For now though, you were just grateful he tapped into it on your behalf. His violent appetite was satisfied, and you had your payback. It'd hardly been a fair fight, and you couldn't care less. As much as your mind told you that should be afraid in this moment, or at the very least unnerved, you weren't. You felt relieved. More than that, you were mesmerized.

Oz whistles for the Twins, and they promptly return. He produces a dark purple handkerchief from his pants pocket and wipes away the blood from his knuckles before acknowledging them.

"Would you fellas be so kind? Our 'guest' needs help finding his sea legs," he invites, slicking his hair back.

It was only an expression, of course. If he didn't succumb to his injuries, you doubted the guy would ever be able to stand again. He wouldn't be backhanding anyone, either. That thought brings a smile to your face.

The identical men hoist the nameless victim up in much the same manner as they'd brought him in. Only this time, with his black and blue face utterly plastered with fresh lacerations, he was nearly unrecognizable. The low gurgling noise emanating from his mouth was the only proof that they weren't propping up a corpse.

"In case I wasn't making myself clear," Oz begins, rolling his sleeves back down, "If you so much as think about coming back in here, I'll carve you up into so many friggin' pieces, only God would be able to find them all."

It sounded like the man tried to vocalize, but it was scarcely more than a whimper.

Oz sneers, "Get this scum outta my sight."

You watch as what's left of your harasser is carried away from view. Just like that, you and Oz are alone once again. As much as you could be anyway, since several of the girls in the dressing area had become aware of the beatdown and were peeping from the other side of the shared window. Surely the whole club would know about what'd just taken place before sunrise. After all, Oz wouldn't do that for just any of the girls here. He didn't even know half of their names; but he knew yours, and he almost beat a man to death to defend it. You shake your head and resolve to ignore the onlookers, trying to come back into your body after the sobering surreal experience.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, baby. But it had to be done," he sighs, putting his jacket back on, "He won't be bothering you no more."

You stand up and walk over to him, "I'm just sorry I couldn't get a punch in."

"Listen to you, little killer over here," he chuckles, "Tell you what. Next time we got a jerk that goes sideways, I'll hold his arms back and you can go nuts on 'em. Deal?"

"Deal," you agree, your playful words turning sincere, "Thank you, Oz. You didn't have to do that for me."

"Yes, I did. Someone disrespects you, they disrespect me too. You bleed, I bleed. I had to make it right," he argues, slightly stern. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. "Here. For the doctor. If you need more, you call me."

You softly gasp at the six hundred-dollar bills he holds out.

"This is too much," you begin.

"No, it ain't. I never shoulda let you go down there in the first place. They're friggin' animals," he says, regret in his voice, "You take all the time you need before you come back, alright? Don't worry about it."

You let him place the money in your hand. Tears start to well up in your eyes as you look to him with gratitude.

"Thank you," you repeat.

He reaches to brush your hair away from your eyes, his bruised knuckles grazing your cheek. "Don't you go startin' with the waterworks now," he smiles, "Scars ain't nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. You'll always be beautiful to me."

Anyone who'd spent just one minute with Oswald Cobb knew that he had a way with words, but something about the glint in his eye made you believe that he truly meant these ones.

You chuckle thoughtfully and straighten his tie. Then, leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek. For a second time that night, you'd taken him by surprise.

Turning to leave, you smirk over your shoulder. "Don't miss me too much."

He grins. "No promises, doll. No promises."

[inkedinfusions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 5

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . 🗝 .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

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𝟎𝟓 | 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

chapter word count: 3.1 k

content warnings: mild dissociation, blanket warnings

a/n: So! Chapters may be more spaced out from now on. I've got six halfway written and seven and eight outlined, but I'm swamped in schoolwork rn, so the updates will have to take a backseat. I swear I wont abandon this though, I already got way too attached to it. Anyway, I offer you this plot-continuing chapter. I hope it answers some of your questions and leaves you with some more.

Thanks for reading!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 next day with a bitter taste on your tongue. You lay unmoving, in a similar way to your first morning. The only difference is, there is nothing in your mind. No anxieties, no thoughts, no nothing. The you two weeks ago would be embarrassed, but now you just feel numb. 

You vaguely remember snapshots of yesterday, although you still can't recall specific sounds or sensations. Everything —the past, present, and future— is stuck in a haze. Even nature seems to be aware of this, as you can’t hear the soft coos of birds outside your window, or the rustling of leaves as wind passes through them. 

Time ticks by, and the shadows in your room morph as the sun traces its revolution in the sky. They get longer, fuzzier, and they move around the space as if chasing some unobtainable treasure. 

You can relate, you think.

Your fingers reach out to them, before your hand falls limply to the floor. You graze the wooden floor with the tips of your fingers, the coldness to the touch diverging with the warm blankets. When they collide with something solid below your bed, you sigh, closing your eyes. 

You stand up and kneel before it, gently taking the small box you had stashed under there. The latch clicks when you open it, and your old clothes, the ones from home, greet you. You run your hands across the cushy fabric, softened after many trips to the washing machine. 

A chuckle spills from your lips at the sight. If you’d known you'd be whisked away when dressing up that morning, you would have chosen something comfier, maybe more nondescript. It turns into a sob when you bring it towards your face and you discover that it barely smells of home anymore. 

Unlike yesterday, no tears begin to fall from your puffy eyes. You are too tired to spiral again, your tear ducts too dry to spill over. You simply stay on your knees, caressing the fabrics over and over again. 

Your door creaks open, and Zeke’s head pops in, zeroing on you. 

“Hey, kid,” he says after a beat. “How are you feeling?”

You pay him no mind, not even turning to look at him. His boots fall heavily to the floor as he walks towards you, and it is only when he kneels next to you that you shift your gaze to him. You swallow, nothing coming out of your mouth as you open it to answer.

“...Hungry,” you finally croak.

He nods, helping you up. 

“I’d say breakfast is ready, but it's way past time for lunch,” he jokes, his smile slowly disappearing when you don't respond. 

Zeke looks down at the box in your arms, noting its presence. He hesitates for a moment, and delicately takes it from you to place it on your desk. You let him, watching as he closes the box, but leaves the latch open.

He guides you downstairs, where a steaming bowl of something is waiting for you in the kitchen. 

You robotically take the cutlery and begin eating, scooping up spoonfuls of thick soup. The warmth returns the color to your skin, and your complexion begins to look less gray. Your thoughts start to flow once more, and you eat with newfound energy.

“Didn’t you have a meeting today?” you ask softly, putting down your empty bowl. 

“I got off early.”

He shrugs, like it's no big deal that the War Chief got off early on a meeting about a developing war. You look at him, skeptical, and you're tempted to once again start over analyzing his actions. Your attempt falls flat with his explanation, though. 

“You were sick, kid,” he says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “I couldn’t leave you alone all day.”

You want to cry again, You turn his statement, tone, words, everything, over and over, trying to find a second, secret motive for it. The sincerity with which he delivers his answer comes up against everything, and you, for the first time, believe him wholeheartedly. 

You look down, furiously blinking away a new wave of tears. You're not quite sure why they threaten to fall; it could be the residue emotions from yesterday, your conflicted feelings about your world, or Zeke’s genuine confession. Maybe you don't want to know. 

Silence settles over the room again, only this time it’s reassuring, not constricting. Zeke doesn’t ask about the stray tears that you fail to contain, instead choosing to return to his lunch. You’re grateful you don't have to offer an explanation, knowing still that he would listen to you if you wanted to give him one. 

Zeke takes your plate after he finishes his, making a beeline towards the sink. You let the sound of flowing water fill the atmosphere, while you contemplate the day before you. As you glance out the window, you notice that the sun is already past halfway through the sky, streaking it with stripes of gold and orange. 

Your cheek rests on your palm, and you trace over the lines of the wooden table with your other hand. Maybe you could work on your written vocabulary. 

You hum, as you think about the book you are one third through decoding. You don’t like the prospect of being alone in your room, but there are limited options as to what you can do now. 

A thud interrupts your musings, and you tilt your head up to see what Zeke had dropped at the table. Your breath hitches when a white baseball rolls over to you. 

“Want to play?” Zeke asks. 

You tentatively grasp the object in your hands, bringing it from one palm to the other. To anyone else, this offer would be seen as what it plainly was; an invitation to play catch. To you, however, it reads like an olive branch. Zeke was offering you the one part of his past he looked back fondly to. 

“...Yeah.”

Only three people had interacted both with the ball and with Zeke in the original series. Ksaver, his mentor; Colt, his successor; and Eren, his brother. A new category opened up in the list– you, his ward. 

The white baseball flies through the breeze, parting the air around it with a whizz. You catch it in the leather glove in your hand, before grabbing it and lightly throwing it back to Zeke. He stands across a small patch of grass behind the house, the space being deemed as the current ballpark.

You had been at it for some time, and both pink and purple joined the array of colors above. Baseball was never a thing that popped into your head as a pastime, school work and other hobbies taking the priority of your free time. 

It is, however, great to keep your mind occupied. The mindless duality of throwing and catching –as well as the repetitive nature of it– gives you something easy to do, with no risk of overthinking the action. 

On the other hand, you needed to be sharp to catch the ball and then measure how much energy you would push into it. This helped you concentrate on it, instead of letting it blend in with your environment. 

The cool wind blows across your neck’s nape, bringing some relief in the afternoon sun. Your mind is too occupied with the game to linger on your breakdown yesterday, and you let your emotions flow through you, catching them and releasing them just like the ball. 

Emotions are a fickle thing. They are the reason for the titans, for the connections between people, for the conflicts that ruled the world. They are the very thing that drove the story, and the very thing that ended it. Feelings are as impulsive as they are irrational. And so, on an impulse, you take a very, very, rash decision. 

“I want to go to Paradis,” you say, throwing the ball back at him. 

Zeke freezes as the weight of your statement settles in. The ball lays still in his baseball glove and he makes no move to toss it in your direction. After a beat, Zeke speaks up. 

“You want to go to Paradis…?”

You nod, swallowing 

He throws the ball back, and it lands in your glove with a thump. 

“Is there a reason you’ve decided to tell me this?”

“I know the timeline of your plan.” Your heartbeat quickens and you look down. “This isn't where I’m meant to be, and I- '' you hesitate for a moment, hoping the vulnerability of your request aids you in its acceptance. “I want to go home. As soon as I can.”

The ball flies again towards Zeke. You throw it with more force than normal, and your downturned gaze means you don't see exactly where you toss it, going off purely of muscle reflex. 

And still, you hear the telling thump that indicates that Zeke has caught it. 

“And what exactly do you plan to do?” he asks. “The timeline can’t move up, no matter how much we wish it to.”

In a sense, Zeke is right. The original plan went like it went simply because of the time it took to bring Paradis’ technology somewhat close to that of the rest of the world. And that is without mentioning the allies that would be introduced later on. The Azumabitos and the Tyburs all had their role to play, if things continue on as they were fated to. 

And if things continued like they were fated to, and you still found yourself with no way home, then at least you'd be spared of the rumbling. You don't want to take your chances with the rest of the Eldians and Marleyans at Fort Salta. 

“I can help you,” you offer. It is a Hail Mary, one you aren’t sure Zeke believes a hundred percent. “Besides, the other Volunteers will be there too, won't they? Yelena can keep an eye on me for all I care.”

You catch the ball as it is flung to you, tossing it once, twice up in the air before pitching it to Zeke. 

“I know you have no reason to trust me on this. But all I want is to go home.” 

Zeke examines the sphere in his glove, and you know he is considering your offer. You suppose the proposal is tempting; you are a wildcard that could, at the very least, be a thorn on the road to achieve his goal. And yet, you could also make it easier.

“If I did decide to send you,” he starts slowly, “–and it’s not definite, just a hypothetical– I need to know that we are on the same page. About everything.”

You nod. The imaginary page in question had been scribbled all over with the details discussing the small-scale version of the Rumbling as well as the (not so) fun bonus of the sterilization plan. Half truths with a dose of lies; that’s how you and Zeke operated with each other. Now, he was asking for honesty. 

“I want out the moment you enter the paths.”

“And you're well within your right to demand so,” Zeke concedes. “After all, there's nothing more tragic than being dragged into a fight that is not one’s own.”

Fight. 

You could very well be fighting not only other people, but fate itself. Has this already been decided? You want to argue that no, that your presence here was a new variable, that you could argue with Eren that this was proof that the future could change. 

And if you failed… then maybe at least you could have the small comfort that you tried. And you would be in Paradis, unaffected by the Rumbling.  

“Okay,” you breathe out, catching once more the ball Zeke throws at you. 

A small lifetime ago Tom Ksaver and Zeke Jaeger stood in the very same positions you both stand in now, the mentee becoming the mentor, the new apprentice once again having more answers than the teacher. The euthanasia plan comes to light anew, along with the name of Zeke’s old mentor. 

“So. Ksaver’s plan?”

Thump

“Just how far does that story cover?”

Thump

You shrug, drawing back your arm with the glove. “It's just snapshots. I couldn’t tell you his favorite color, for example.”

Thump

“Fascinating,” Zeke responds. “Do you know how it came to be?”

Thump

“Something about not being born equals no misery?”

The ball flies off to Zeke, who keeps it. He turns it in his palm, throwing it up in the air and catching it again. His eyes trace the path the ball takes above his outstretched hand, and you see how his gaze turns reminiscent, his words heavy and his sentences anchoring to the reality Ksaver presented to him a little over a decade ago.

“All of our grief, all our suffering, it has no place in this world. It exists in us, perpetuated by the fear we instill in the people. And so, if we had never existed in the first place, neither would our torment nor the fright titans cause.”

You nod, your gaze a tad distant, as the ball soars towards you. 

Tom Ksaver had been enthralled when Zeke had proposed the eradication of all Eldians, via the elimination of their ability to reproduce. Both men were governed by their trauma, its invisible hands molding the clay of their stories. 

Ksaver’s dead wife and son pushed him to seek a grandiose way to end his life. He looked for the son who never got the chance to grow up in Zeke, and was comforted when their views intersected. He died with Zeke as his successor in titan, research, and objectives.

Zeke’s trauma had defined his goals. Always going against what Grisha had traced in his future, and yet still being so cosmically intertwined with the man. He had gained solace when he believed he had found someone similar in his younger brother. 

Through the same circular glasses, their point of view was equally clouded by their experiences. 

“I am… very sorry it had to come to this.”

Zeke shrugs. “It's not your responsibility to apologize, kid. You weren’t even born into this world–how could you possibly bear its burden?”

You suppose he is right. Zeke’s point of view hung on the divine burden the sins of their forefathers had placed at their backs, and you, without a drop of Eldian blood in your veins to damn you, were guiltless before the slaughter. 

You double up on the commendation for his cause, hoping to secure a ticket to Paradis Island among the Volunteers.

“Still. I find it honorable how you chose to shoulder this responsibility.”

The statement deals in half truths. 

You truly are in awe of Zeke’s determination and conviction in his own plan, regardless of the abhorrent nature of it. But he doesn’t need to know of your disagreement, just of your admiration. 

You swear you see his eyes get misty before he turns his head to the side, effectively blocking you from confirming it. Soft coos in the trees rise in nature’s harmony, and you watch as Zeke adjusts his glasses, discreetly wiping away stray teardrops before they become apparent. 

You and Zeke talk well into dusk, only retiring inside when the sun dips beneath the horizon, giving way to the first stars in the sky. No agreement is reached, and Zeke skitters around the subject for the remainder of the conversation. 

The fire crackles beneath the stove as Zeke whips together a small dinner, and the smell of toasted bread fills the kitchen’s air.

“ –and I’m just saying,” you continue with your side of the argument, “who do you think your brother would have an easier time trusting? A bunch of adults who he views as enemies? Or someone his age, who can pose as a victim from Marley?” 

“That’s true,” Zeke acknowledges, most likely remembering the single time they met, along with Reiner’s account. “He is rather… brash.”

You don’t tell him that it was Eren who originally sought out Yelena, to then pretrend to be on board with Zeke’s plan. Trust was a minor detail in the equation, and Eren simply relied on his future memories and carefully built facade to get him through. In the end, he didn’t need to trust them, just manipulate them enough so they could be useful.

“So I can go? Please?”

“Eat your dinner.”

“But-”

“You were sick yesterday, eat your dinner.”

Like a moody teenager, you huff at Zeke’s reply, shoveling a slice of bread into your mouth. The jam in it was delicious, but you weren't about to compliment the cooking of the chef when the chef in question was being a jerk and avoiding the topic. 

“Whatever,” you mumble between bites. 

One would think you were arguing about some party you didn't have permission to go to, or some unjust punishment caused by failing grades. Certainly not a world-altering conspiracy and a trip to the dubbed Devil’s Island. 

Zeke stands up with a sigh, and you look at him questioningly as he walks out the kitchen. Damn, you think. Had your pleading finally annoyed him into an early bedtime?

You don't wait alone for long, though, and Zeke once again enters the kitchen after the sound of rummaging in the adjacent room ceases. His hands hold a sheet of paper and a pencil, you notice, as he walks towards you.

The chair Zeke pulls screeches against the floor, and he sits down next to you. A pencil and paper are placed in front of you, the writing utensil rolling towards your hand. You take it before it falls, and your eyes dart between the paper and Zeke. 

There, in scribbled writing, lies another twenty six symbol alphabet, different from the Marleyan one you’ve been learning. The unfamiliar runes stare back at you, and you tilt your head with furrowed brows, trying to decipher the meaning of Zeke’s offering. 

“What is this?” you ask, pointing at the sheet with the pencil in your hand. 

“The Eldian alphabet,” Zeke answers. 

Your eyes widen, and your gaze flits between them both. 

“Wait. So I'm…?”

“Yes.” Zeke nods as he takes a seat again. “I’ll have to talk to Yelena, rework some points of the plan. But you are going to Paradis.”

Your sudden hug catches Zeke by surprise, and you squeeze him tightly, wanting to transmit the depths of your gratitude. Finally, finally some of your anxieties about your fate in this world will be quelled.

“Thank you,” you mumble against his shoulder. 

“Of course.” He pats your back comfortingly. “And you better not slack off on Marleyan either, Gabi told me you still struggle with fluent reading.”

The sentimental atmosphere shatters. That snitch. 

“Give me a break, old man, I started learning it only a few weeks ago.”

“Sure.”

You pull away from the hug, rolling your eyes at his comments. Zeke chuckles, and his gray eyes find yours again.

“I’ll get you home, kid. I promise.”

taglist: @dressycobra7 @xngelsau @bloodchapell @i-think-im-adorable13

ask or comment to be added!

[the-astral-express-archive]

Hi, just out of curiosity but could you show us which characters you have? Who and what teams are your favorites? Do you plan to pull for any character in this patch or future patches? It's fine if you think these questions are too personal and don't wanna answer them. Have a good day.

Hey there, I'm a F2P player so there aren't many 5* characters in my account haha, though most of the 4*s I have are E6. Here's the list if anyone wants to know. FUA teams are my absolute favorite with smol Herta being my most used character since 1.0. Jing Yuan, Himeko and Luocha also stayed with me for a very long time before I switched to newer FUA teams.

As for pulling plan, I just got big Herta today so I'm saving up for the rest of this version. Mydei's my next goal cuz he looks really cool, but if I can't get him from his debut banner in 3.1 then I can always wait for his future reruns.

That's about it. Have a good day to you too! Cheers!

[tokkiiibunny]

Chick Habit | Megumi Fushiguro

07: Supamedicine

Warnings: Drug use, Mentions of suicide

Words: 3.1 k

Mainlist

I need something that can brighten up my dreary day

Some kind of amgel who can take my evil spell away.

I look at you and baby this is what I want to say.

Secrets, drugs and lies.

You looked at him suspiciously. "About what?" He took a breath and sigh, you could see how his expression seemed tense, it was clear that it was being difficult for him but you didn't want to let it be so easy.

"I think that..." He paused, it was easy to tell that apologizing wasn't a common thing for him. "Maybe... I was too rude." You raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look Yn, can I come in? I think I could properly apologize, there are many things to discuss." He tried to disguise the annoyance he was feeling but he couldn't.

"And why should I let you in?"

"Because. I. want. to. Apologize." It was clear that he was running out of patience.

"Good." You let him in and you both went up to your room, closed the door behind you and sat on your bed, he did the same by sitting in front of you.

You didn't say anything, neither did he, you both looked at each other, it seemed like he was waiting for you to say anything but you didn't, you wanted him to apologize on his own. He cleared his throat. 

"I'm sorry I was mean, I had no reason to treat you like that."

"That's all?"

He growled "Don't pressure me, I'm trying."

"You can do better."

"fine, I was a bitch and You didn't do anything to get that treatment, I got carried away."

"Yes you are right."

"And?"

"What?"

"We are okay or not?"

"I don't know, should we?"

"You're being difficult on purpose."

"And I'm not half as bad as you were."

"Well, I'm sorry, you're right, I deserve it, but I really want to fix things and I can't do it if you behave like this, I'm sorry Yn but I promise you that I'll do better from now on."

"fine, we are okay."

He looked at you, maybe it was because you were still in pajamas and without makeup but you looked slightly Gaunt, not with the same bright energy with which you had presented that first day, paying attention to your look he noticed that there was something there, a touch of sadness hidden in the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, Whether that had always been there or not, he didn't know, but you definitely seemed different, he wondered if he had had an influence on that change.

"You seem different, there's something going on with you, I can feel it, Back-to-school stress or something else?"

"You don't know anything megumi." You couldn't help but get defensive because at least most of how you'd been feeling lately had been his fault.

"Stop there, I'm not judging you but I think I could help you."

He took out of his pocket a small Metal box, when he opened it you saw a couple of white pills in there, you were not someone who used drugs, you had no idea what that was and you would be lying if you said that it didn't scare you a little but you were also curious.

"I'm not doing that." Although it was a categorical denial Megumi could sense the doubt in your eyes.

"Why not? I do it all the time when I want to relax, nothing will happen to you." You thought about it for a moment, it was true that the last few days (or most of your life) you hadn't been feeling well and the idea of something that could give you that feeling of tranquility and happiness was quite attractive but you also knew that it was wrong, that you shouldn't consume something you didn't know and even less from someone you didn't know well yet.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, You'll be fine." Megumi took a sip from your glass, And swallow the pill, the dose he had given you was small for someone like him but for someone like you who had never tasted even the slightest it was definitely more than enough, you took the glass again and took a big drink Swallowing the pill, Megumi thought you were stupid for trusting him too easily? Definitely, but he also wondered if you would have trusted anyone like that.

You left the glass on the bedside table and leaned against the headboard, you remained silent for a few minutes looking at a fixed point on the wall but you didn't feel different.

"I feel the same."

"It's not magic, It will probably take half an hour to take effect."

You sighed and lay down on your bed patting the place next to you, Megumi did not hesitate to approach and lie down next to you, you turned on your side to meet his gaze.

"When did you start with this? I mean drugs."

"I didn't come to talk about myself."

"We talked too much about myself."

"No, There's still a lot we could talk about."

"But I want to know more about you."

"Everyone wants to know more about me." A small chuckle escaped your lips, it was exactly what any male protagonist in one of those bad movies for teenagers that you sometimes saw would say. "What are you laughing at?"

"You and your Edward cullen Mysterious Bad Boy Attempt."

"What the does that mean?" and you laughed. The conversation was calm it consisted of megumi complaining and you laughing but it was more pleasant than you would have expected, little by little you began to feel more relaxed, your body felt less tense, your mind was far from that dark place where you sometimes fell But your eyes were finding it harder and harder to focus, you felt drowsy almost giving in.

"How are you feeling?" he asked when he noticed that you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open, a silly smile formed on your lips and he knew you were ready.

"Better than ever."

"That's what I thought." He stretched out his hand and ran a strand of your hair behind your ear, you giggled. "fine yn, What was your first impression of me?" an easy, weightless question just to know if you were already high enough to be completely honest but deep down he really wanted to know your answer.

"I thought you were cute and I also thought we'd be friends, that you'd be nice to me because you understood how cruel rumors could be." Megumi didn't give a damn what they said about him, they were stupid things that they made up because they didn't know him and he would never let them do it, he liked to be a mystery.

"So you've heard things about me?"

"Just the same thing that everyone has heard."

"And you believe it?"

"Mmm no, do you believe what they say about me?"

"I don't know, what do they say about you?" you opened your eyes as much as you could, struggling not to fall asleep.

"You know." And he had taken it upon himself to remind you of it every day.

"But I want to hear it from you." His hand that had been held in your hair down to your cheek running his thumb gently over your skin, You almost purred under his touch it bothered him how someone like you could be so pretty.

"They say I'm a whore, that I've slept with a lot of guys, that they paid me to have sex." You said keeping that stupid smile on your lips.

"And that's true?" Megumi took his phone and opened the audio recorder by pressing play.

You laughed without noticing what Megumi had done and even if you had seen it, chances are that in your state you wouldn't have questioned it. "No, it's not."

"And why do they say it?" as if he hadn't invented all those rumors.

You shrugged. "I don't know."

"You should know, maybe they saw something, once I heard that they found you giving head to your little weirdo friend in one of the empty classrooms."

"choso? No, I would never do anything with him."

"Why? Isn't he your type?"

"No, he is not and it would be weird."

"And that's why?"

"Because he's my best friend and-" You paused and laughed, turning on your back. "And I slept with his brother."

"Which one?"

"Sukuna." A well-known name in the village, that boy was a black sheep, a juvenile delinquent who had left a couple of years ago on the run from the police, he was completely different from Choso and Yuji.

"do you... Really?" That had definitely taken Megumi by surprise.

"Were you dating or was it a one-time thing?"

"No and no, it happened several times but we were never a couple."

"And that's why?"

"He wasn't interested in me as a girlfriend, he just wanted to have sex with me."

"And you served yourself on a silver platter."

You laughed one more time. "I can't help but love feel loved."

"Of course. And he gave you everything that a little princess like you needed, didn't he?"

"definitely, it was fun."

"was he your first time?" His hand came down on your stomach. "Or was there anyone else before him?"

you giggled. "You're asking too much."

"If you don't answer me, I'm going to think you're a real hoe." His hand went down further until he reached the elastic of your pajama pants, his fingers slid slightly under the fabric feeling your hip bone, Maybe it could be the fact that you were very high but you weren't bothered by the feeling of his fingers against your skin and you didn't resist.

"You can think whatever you want, maybe I am."

"Oh, so you're admitting it."

You shrugged. "I never said yes."

"But you didn't say no either."

"Maybe you'll find out later."

"And what about sasha? There are also many things they say about you that involve her."

You moaned with annoyance. "Nothing happened."

"So she only woke up one day and decided she wanted to kill herself?"

"She was crazy, it wasn't my fault.

"So it's a lie that you told her she should do it?"

you laughed with any worries "I was upset, I didn't think she would really do it."

"And do you regret it?" the smile disappeared from your face, you were silent for a long moment and he didn't add anything letting you prepare to answer.

"Sometimes but I can't do anything about it anymore." A tear spilled from your eye and Megumi raised his hand and wiped it with his thumb. By "sometimes" you meant all the time, there wasn't a day when you didn't think about that, about the letter you gave her, about the words you said and all because of a stupid  fight

"Maybe I'm a bad person, it was my fault." Maybe they were all right, maybe you were bad. "That was like induction of suicide or something."

"it was her decision."

"But I told her to do it." Megumi knew it was time to stop his investigation, although he still had many things to ask you and Lots of information to get he knew that in your state it was very likely that you would answer, he did not want to continue if you were going to be a drugged cry baby .

Megumi stayed with you for a while trying to console you, acting as if he didn't have an audio recording of you confessing to a crime on his phone (and also your little adventure with Sukuna).

He left until you fell asleep.

What had happened on Friday you didn't know, Or at least the last part of what happened.

You remembered when megumi came to your house, you remember when you went up to your room, You remember he apologized, you remember that you agreed to Consume with him and from there everything feels confusing and blurry, you're not sure what really happened and that it was just a figment of your imagination.

But the point is that he had apologized and now you and he were fine, no more trouble, no more name-calling, no more shit.

You felt a weight off your shoulders and the pressure of each morning before school was a thing of the past. You couldn't be happier to see how this year it seemed that everything was getting better for you, maybe now you only saw Choso a few times a month but now you had friends with whom you finally felt that you had a place to belong, school no longer seemed as horrible as it had been for the last years.

You were walking to your first class, your headphones canceling the Outside noise, your mind lost in the melody that was playing and in your thoughts, but a hand landed on your shoulder making you stop, you turned your face and there was Yuji who always had a smile on his face but now he looked like a Repentant puppy with his eyes down.

"Hey Yn, can we talk?"

You both went and sat down on one of the benches in the courtyard and He began to tell you what had happened with Megumi, you tried to pretend that you didn't know anything and he never mentioned the real reason for the argument Or at least not the whole story,  he only said that they had "differences" because of his friend's attitude toward you and of course you didn't question him, no one knew that you had heard. Yuji seemed really remorseful, angry with himself for having reacted that way And sad at the thought that Megumi was still angry with him.

"And I don't know, it bothers me, of course but I don't want to be bad with him, he's been my best friend for years it's like a brother for me." You understood, if you ever fought Choso you wouldn't know what to do.

"He apologized to me." You admitted trying to make him feel better, You didn't like to see him sad.

"really?" He looked up and you could see a tiny glint in his eyes.

"Yes, he came to my house, And he told me he was sorry Because of how he had treated me, he and I are fine, you and he should too, maybe if you talk to him You both can fix it."

"you are right." He hugged you, his strong arms Squeezing you against him. "Thank you so much, I don't know what I would do without you." You giggled against his chest and hugged him back.

You came to your classroom with a smile on your lips, you really liked Yuji and felt that he could become a very good friend very soon.

"You seem close to Yuji, don't you?" Megumi looked much more relaxed, his posture was less tense, his expression didn't show any Annoyance, and there was a nice change in the tone of his voice as well.

"Well, we're friends."

"So two days for you is enough to consider someone a close friend"

"It's been a week and I'm not saying we're the closest but I really like him, I think we could become very good friends."

"You're naïve."

"I think I know who to trust, I'm not dumb."

"That was not what I said."

"But you thought about it." And he smiled, feeling like a genuine smile, Megumi was really nice when he wasn't being a bitch not that he was the most talkative or joker but he could certainly become nice.

Classes and free hours were quiet, just as you thought no more insults, no more problems, this was what you were waiting for on the first day of school.

"This is shit."

"It's not."

"It is, you don't have good taste." You were sharing your Hearphones with Megumi.

"Oh sorry Mr. Music Expert." You mocked

"Give me your phone." He stretched out his hand

"What?"

"I'm going to play something good, Maybe you'll stop listening to this shit." you unlocked your phone and gave it to him but Spotify was not the first app he go, he entered added his number in your Contacts without saying anything about it he left and go to Spotify, you didn't ask either but a smile Appeared on your lips.

You and Megumi were very different but you felt like you fit in with him, even if you didn't know him well yet, you felt comfortable by his side, especially with his new attitude.

"Yuji already talked to you?" he sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"Not yet, but he sent me a message Wondering if we could meet after school."

"And what do you think will happen? Are you still angry?"

"No, I'm not, I never got mad at him, I honestly deserved it." He gave you a knowing look and a little smirk. "If anyone has to apologize it's going to be me."

That afternoon Megumi and Yuji went out, their conversation was much faster than they could have expected, the reality is that neither of them wanted to be bad with the other, they were best friends, they had been for years and neither wanted to end that friendship, even if Megumi would never say it out loud he really loved Yuji, he was like his brother.

"I really regret it." It was probably the tenth time Yuji said it. Megumi rolled his eyes.

"Stop saying it, I'm fine."

"But your cheek is still red."

"It could have been worse." Megumi's pride would never let him admit that his cheek did indeed still hurt "anyways, What's between you and Yn?" Yuji chuckled and looked away.

"She's my friend." But the slight blush on his cheeks did not go unnoticed by Megumi.

"Do you like her?"

"Well she's pretty." Yes, megumi knew it but for some reason it bothered him to throw it out of yuji's mouth. "I was thinking of asking her out on a date." Megumi's jaw tightened and his fists clenched inside the pockets of his jacket

"And you think she will say yes?"

"I can't say but what is the worst that can happen? I can Handle a rejection."

"Well, give it a try."

"I'm going to do it, you can be sure of that." But Megumi didn't want to be sure, this time he was far from happy about his friend's happiness.

For a moment he thought about saying what he had heard coming out of your mouth on Friday, maybe that way Yuji would stop thinking that you were a sweet little princess, but he decided to bite his tongue knowing that he could use it later.

Notes area:

>I changed the name because diet pepsi didn't fit so well with the final result.

>Honestly, this was quite different from what I had planned.

>Comments, suggestions, and feedback are welcome.

>Thanks for reading!

Taglist (open)

@soobinbunnie5 @anonymity-222 @hanakalovesbnha @starrysho @sylussss7 @Shortcakebbg @Szired @briezy04764

[spindle-girl]

Glare 3.1

Tattletale ^_^

The industry had become a prominent part of the city, and then the greater industry had outgrown it.  Things had reached the point where it was easier to take one big ship and go to Boston and transport goods from there than to take two smaller ships and go to Brockton Bay, even if Brockton Bay was closer to the goods’ destination.  The factories and goods went where the ships went, because it wasn’t sensible to ship raw materials from Boston to Brockton Bay to do manufacturing when Boston could handle it.

Danny should have made it so that he could see this. the misery would be funny

Seeing the murals, the directions I’d received started to make sense.  The path was byzantine.  Go the way the wolf and his cubs are looking.  A wolf and three cubs that looked like they were made of white smoke were painted on a concrete wall.  They stood facing one way, but their heads were looking back.

lisa's being silly with giving those directions lol

Follow the snake.

i wonder this was just a general animal theme or if some of Lisa's mercs were just fucking around with her by referencing Coil

“I like the cat,” I said, pointing.  “Subtle.”

does Victoria think the cat is meant to be Tattletale or am i dumb?

You can take a bullet, unless you’re doing something peculiar like keeping your forcefield down while standing between a man with a gun and Snuff here.” “Heya,” Snuff said, raising a hand.

lol, Tattletale got a proper hench

“I’d prefer if you listened in with the rest of the group.  I’m concerned Tattletale can say something to me that affects one of you.  She touched on some personal subjects, and I need to think about how much I’m comfortable sharing.”

treating her like Contessa or the Simurgh

“Worth keeping in mind,” Tristan said.  “If we wind up fighting her.” “I’m giving you all the info I can, so you can make an informed decision,” I said.  “Resume.”

genuinely they should not be thinking about fighting the team that took over a city. like, warn them off this particular fight Victoria

“I have spare, basic masks for those that need them,” I said.  “I also have the start of my team outline written up on my laptop.  What do you guys say we move to an area with some elbow room, you can show me enough of your powers that I know what to put in the document, and we talk about what you’ve got in mind?”

documenting powers can be both good and bad, depending on who gets that information

End Notes:

trying to keep my tt bias down. she def had the mean part down, but she's giving Victoria more chances than i'd have thought. did Ward start the fanfic trope of power testing or was that a thing before this chapter or am i presuming too much on what comes next? those years are blending together in my mind too much for me to remember

also, aiden :) can't wait to see Chicken Little proper

[pauline-pauline]

I've never noticed people paying much attention to the image of Mona's feet that Urban posted on reddit, so I'll give my thoughts.

1-detail. I kiss Alan Draven's hands, the detail on the feet alone blew me away. Everything--the veins, the skin pigmentation, some pimple, the chipped cuticle, everything is worked out! (but I don't understand why the hell her feet are so clean and why her skin is a normal color lol) I can't wait to see the full model of Mona. I believe that Urban himself made the floorboard and if so, it also looks incredible!

2-the size of Mona's feet. I always liked to think that she had Marfan syndrome and now it's possible canon.

3-location. The broken floorboard makes me think that this is some kind of abandoned room. At first I thought it was a kitchen or a bathroom, but now it seems to me that it's some kind of corridor.

3.1-shadow. It was a little difficult for me to identify what was casting the shadows, but I think it was the window behind which the tree is OR the shadows cast by Mona's torn dress.

3.2-stains on the floorboard. This is no longer my very realistic guess, but it seems to me that there are blood stains on the floorboard (I'll circle them). Or it's just dirt or the color of the floorboard.

4-Mona's dress. After 9172884748 views of the slow-motion version of the scene from Nathan's camera in HD quality and lighting, I can safely say that Mona's dress was already torn at the time of the attack on Tina and Sienna. This doesn't give much, I mean the time frame. Perhaps we will be shown the events between episodes 8 and 9 (since at the time of the attack on the Stones, Mona's dress was clean and intact) or these are the events after the arrest. And I will be honest, the second option is more desirable for me, but the first is more realistic (maybe of course Mona is sitting in her shitty nightgown awaiting trial/at trial/after trial, but it still seems to me that she would have been given something cleaner).

It seems that these are all my thoughts that were (well, except for the fact that I want to lick Mona's feet hee-hee). If you also have something to say, I will be glad to read your guesses and opinions!!! 👻

[ellie-24]

Sooner or later

Summary: Here we go, another installment of my assistant!reader x elvis verse. This is set after Forbidden Fruit, but it can be read independently. Enjoy❤️

Word count: 3.1 k

.................................................................................

You sat on the sofa, surrounded by newspapers and tabloids, sipping your morning coffee. You waited for Jerry's arrival as the two of you wanted to go through a few details for the upcoming events and concerts. Elvis was still sleeping soundly and probably wouldn't be up until afternoon, as usual. Speaking of Elvis. After much back and forth between the two of you for weeks you had trouble keeping the mutual feelings for each other at bay. You didn't know what to call whatever it was between you two. Was is an affair? Was it a liaison? A deep mutual understanding? The beginning of a relationship? Whatever it was you decided that it was in your best interest to keep it secret from the public, even the Memphis Mafia. After all you still officially worked for him. It was difficult at times but first wanted to figure out what it was between Elvis and you.

With a sigh turned the page of the tabloid in front of you and massaged your temples. You almost couldn't bear to read it. The headlines about Elvis were getting worse and worse lately. Mean spirited articles about his private and family life, his weight gain, him slurring the words and songs on stage, forgetting his lines and appearing to be drugged out everywhere he went. Some even went so far to call him washed up and wrecked. It was truly horrible how they all allowed themselves an opinion about a man they didn't even know. They don't even know what he is going through and they can't imagine the immense pain he is suffering. Yet he still manages to get on stage and perform, like his life depended on it. In a way, it did.

 

You heard a knock on the door. This had to be Jerry. You closed the tabloid, tossed in on the table and got up. You opened the door and saw Jerry standing in front of you, smiling. "Hey Jerry, nice to see you." you said and pulled him into a brief hug. 

"Hey Y/N, how are you?"

"Ah, you know, same old." you shrugged and lead him inside. "What about you?" He simply nodded.

"Come on. Elvis is still asleep we'll sit in the living area." 

"Sounds good." he agreed and followed you. 

When you sat down you both immediately opened your notebooks and gathered the documents and schedules, wrote down important places and dates, phone numbers and contact information of hotels, performance venues and so on. As you were working through the days you realized how exhausting this whole ordeal will be for Elvis. He loved singing and performing for his audience, but under these conditions presented to you right now it was everything but healthy. He wasn't in his best shape right now, mentally and physically, and you felt bile rise up your throat at the thought of the Colonel and Dr. Nick pumping him full with medications to keep him standing. You huffed and rand a hand through your hair. 

"You alright, Y/N?" Jerry asked, noticing your discomfort. 

"Yeah.. It's just... It's a lot. He..." you trailed off with a deep breath and gestured to the wild array of sheets and papers on the table. 

"...I know. He isn't doing great, everyone can see that." he said with an equally worried expression. 

"Just...Look at this." you grabbed the newspaper you had just read off the table and tossed it over to him. 

His eyes shortly skimmed over the front page and he wordlessly looked up to you, taking in the distressed look on your face. 

"I've read a lot of this stuff as well." he muttered after a while. 

"Most of what they're writing isn't even true, or... wildly exaggerated. They don't know what they're talking about." you replied, throwing your arms in the air. "He doesn't feel good, anyone can see that, yet they continue trample on him for no reason. He is stronger than they think he is, I don't think anyone else could manage to to what he does under these circumstances." you finished your rant.

 

Jerry watched you, contemplatively. "...You're good for him, Y/N." he finally voiced.

"What?" you questioned. 

He hesitated. "Well, I mean to be honest, Y/N I didn't know what to think of you when I first met you. We all really didn't." He let out a small laugh and rubbed the back his neck. "...But you grew on us. Especially on Elvis. The last few months were hard..." You nodded nodded.  "...But you're there for him."

You laughed nervously. "...Well.. That's exactly my job isn't it?" you shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Does he suspect something? Does he know? You knew that Elvis was terribly bad at keeping secrets.

"You're there for him in more ways than you realize I think. He speaks very often of you, Y/N. Very dearly as well. You've become very important to him. I've known Elvis for a long time and know how quickly he forms attachments, how he needs them. From what I gather when I talk to him is that you're what's keeping him up right now." 

Your tried not to choke on your coffee, feeling utterly caught. Instead you just managed smiled innocently and placed your mug on the table again. 

"Well, I'm doing my best. He needs his friends right now."

You started eating your breakfast, opting for a bit of harmless small talk before returning to more serious matters. After you finished you carefully watched Jerry and almost whispered "Jerry... Elvis... He won't stand this much longer." 

"There's nothing we can do. Elvis is a stubborn man. He won't change his ways. He's done it like this for years. He hasn't got the motivation to change anything." 

"I just wish we could help him somehow." 

"I know Y/N. But it's like you said. We just have to be there for him. That's everything we can do right now."

You looked up to him again. "...Yeah, you're right Jerry."

He put a comforting hand over yours. "Just make sure to take care of yourself as well, Y/N. You understand?"

You laugh and gathered your notes and papers. "Says you! When was the last time you took a break?"

"A what?"

You laughed again and got up with Jerry following you as you lead him outside the door. You briefly hugged each other and you watched him approach the elevator. "See you Y/N! And remember what I told you!" He waved his hand and the door of the elevator closed.

You briefly waved back at him with a "You too!" and went back inside.

Feeling the need to do something before Elvis woke up, you retrieved the newspapers and tabloids from the table before Elvis could see them. You knew it would send him into another spiral, so you quickly discarded them into to trash. Then went to the kitchen area and quickly did the dishes. Just as you were drying the last plate you suddenly felt a presence behind you. You didn't even have the time to turn around when you already felt his strong arms wrap themselves around your middle, his soft stomach firmly pressed against your back. He gently propped his chin on your shoulder and nuzzled his face against your neck, inhaling deeply. 

"Good morning, sweetheart" he drawled, running his strong hands up and down your waist. 

"Good morning to you too, darling. You're up early!" you remarked with a smile. 

"Don't blame me. I woke up all alone... and sad... and cold... I missed my best girl." he pouted and planted a quick kiss to the side of your head. 

"Sorry, but I met with Jerry and I wanted to let you sleep. I heard you tossing and turning and cussing almost until dawn... You missed Jerry by a few minutes actually." you said, placing the dry plate into the cupboard above. 

"Yeah, I heard ya." he murmured and subtly tightened his grip on your waist. "You two get along well, don't you?"

You hesitated, not really sure where he was headed with this. "...Well... we both want the same thing, you know." you shrugged. 

"And what's that?" he whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling you slightly.

"The best for you." You turned your head and looked into his eyes. There was this swirl of emotions again that you couldn't quite make out. 

"...Hm..." he purred and you felt the rumbling of his chest against your back. "You know what would be the best thing for me now, yittle?" he murmured and placed a finger under your chin.

You raised your eyebrows at him.

He just smirked and leaned in, pressing his lips hard against yours. You let out a surprised squeal and dropped the towel you still had in your hands. He grabbed your chin with a bit more force to keep you still and stepped even closer to you, effectively trapping you between his strong body and the counter. You put a gentle hand against his soft cheek when you felt his warm tongue gliding over your lips, begging entrance. When you opened your mouth for him he moaned and let his fingers sink even further into the flesh of your hip. After a while he pulled away from you, making you mewl at the loss of contact.

His panting, the way his lips were parted, combined with his dark eyes, made you throw your head back onto his shoulder with a shuddering breath. He wasted no time and pushed your hair away from your neck, giving him free access. His lips moved across your pulse point down to your collarbone where he bit down hard, making you almost shout his name. Normally he was always very gentle with you, as if almost afraid to break you. Right now though he was marking you up roughly, surely leaving multiple hickeys all over your neck and shoulders. It was new, but you certainly weren't complaining. 

When he's had enough he placed his hands on your upper arms and quickly turned you around, making you face him. He smirked down at you when you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You stood on your toes to meet his lips in a more gentle kiss. With an unexpected urgency he lifted you up and sat you down on the counter behind you. You let him step between your legs and pulled away from his mouth to look at him.

Now it was his turn to whimper as he felt your lips leave his. Your tender gaze was fixed entirely on his flushed face as your fingers rose to play with the strands of hair that fell over his slightly sweaty forehead. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch with a content smile on his now swollen lips. He was so incredibly beautiful, you still couldn't believe that you sat here with him. Your mind briefly went back to the newspaper articles. They were all so very blind. 

"You're so beautiful Elvis." you hummed, a warm smile on your face.

He opened his eyes again and the raw emotion in them almost made you choke. He placed both of his hands on your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. "My beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, lovely, yittle Y/N." he sighed, grinning from ear to ear. You giggled and his smile widened even further, his eyes crinkling. Your laughter was music to his soul. "You're one of the most important people for me right now, you know that right, sweetheart?" his voice now sounded nearly pleading as his eyebrows furrowed a little. "Ya really are, Y/N..." he nodded to himself. He deeply looked into your eyes, as if searching for something. 

"Oh Elvis, dear, you mean so much to me as well. You are so sweet for saying that."

He lovingly smiled down at you and wrapped his arms back around your waist, holding you close to him again. With shuddering breath he slowly leaned down and buried his face against your neck, as if hiding himself from the world. "Ya gotta stay with me." he murmured and closed his eyes. He quietly started humming a tune that sounded kind of familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. 

"...Promise me, yittle."

"I promise."

As you held him, your thoughts went back to Jerry’s words. That you were pretty much what kept Elvis going at the moment. What did he tell him? What were they talking about? You still didn’t know what Elvis really felt for you, but it really seemed to go deeper for him than you originally thought. You worried that you were just a temporarily distraction for him, like most of the girls he acquainted with. You acknowledged that the things between the two of you had developed rather quickly and that he probably wasn’t in the right state of mind for such decisions. Like Jerry said, he was feeling miserable for the past few months anyway. His health, his feelings for Priscilla and Linda that still lingered, the limited time he got to see his only daughter and the betrayal of his manager make him feel lonely, abandoned and vulnerable. 

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he removed his hand from your waist and searched for your hand. He gently grasped it and intertwined his fingers with yours. He was still humming the tune when he raised your joined hands up next to his head and once again tightened his grip around your waist. Then he started moving his hips, lightly swaying back and forth with you. 

"What are you doing?" you asked after a while with a light chuckle. "Darling, you haven’t even had breakfast, come on."

"No!" he whined, his face still nuzzled into your neck. "I wanna dance with you." he mumbled as he continued to sway. 

You smiled and pushed yourself away from the counter to properly dance with him. 

"You’re not scared I’m gonna step on your feet?"

"Don’t worry about that sweetheart, I’m not wearing my blue suede shoes." he whispered.  

You could feel him smiling against your neck when you laughed at his joke. You resumed to playing with his hair as he pulled you along, dancing in slow circles with you. With your cheek resting on his shoulder you contemplated your own feelings for him. What you felt for him was definitely no longer the silly, starstruck crush you initially had. But it certainly couldn’t be love. You haven’t known each other long enough. Of course there was this romantic sentiment of love at first sight but you weren’t that naive anymore. It wasn’t, it couldn't be that. You had to be careful, it would just over complicate things unnecessarily. Yet, you couldn't stop, nor hide your mind’s and body’s reaction to him. The way he’d look at you, talk to you and touch you made your heart beat faster and your whole focus would shift. 

He leaned back and made you twirl around with one hand over your head. He let out a small whistle as he turned your and pulled you back against his wide chest with a small chuckle. Small gestures and moments like these made your head spin, literally. You laid your head on his shoulder and you danced through the kitchen into the living room. It really felt more like floating than dancing and your cheeks already started to hurt from grinning non stop. His moves became faster and bolder and you could barely keep up with him.

Then he suddenly stopped and after a quick kiss on your hand he made his way over to the record player. He searched through the many vinyls until he found the one he was looking for. He set down the needle and turned to you with a bit of a mischievous grin. He waggled his finger in a come hither motion while the record player was still rustling. Then when you heard the music you finally recognized the tune he was humming the entire time. It was All Shook Up, you finally registered.

You approached him, laughing, and he started swaying his hips again. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, his moves were utterly captivating. Despite his failing health, his real talent would never leave him. Truly Elvis the Pelvis. He grinned proudly and came closer. You didn’t really know what to do with yourself and just moved along, though a bit hesitant at first. 

"...Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart. Just let the music guide you." 

"You mean you?" you laughed, becoming a bit more confident. 

"Got a problem with that, sweetheart?"

"Not at all."

Feeling more bold you started swinging your hips as well, matching him. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation and reached out for your hands. He sang along playfully as he turned you inside and out, making you laugh. When the song ended he dramatically dipped you down, and a surprised yelp escaped your throat. You both stared at each other, chests heaving. He furrowed his eyebrows jokingly. 

"What is it, doll? Afraid I won't catch you?" he panted, his glistening face hovering inches above yours. 

"Whew! It was just a bit quick for me I guess." you managed to get out after catching your breath somewhat. He lifted you up again and pointed a teasing finger at you. 

"Hey, none of that, I'm the old man here." 

You laughed and reached out to play with his collar. "...Old man still got them moves though." you whispered and leaned up to kiss him. 

He chuckled into the kiss and lead you to the sofa to sit down for a break. You draped your legs over his lap and he ran his hand up and down your calf. The other gently grasped a strand of your hair, absentmindedly playing with it. You scooted closer laid your head on his shoulder and pressed your lips against the side of his neck. 

"I wish we could just stay like this... Here-" he gestured around "-just you and me, Y/N."

"Yeah, that would be great huh." you answered. "But... sooner or later we have to face reality, darling."

"I'm afraid you're right sweetheart... I'd rather have it be later than sooner though." he murmured as he put his arms around you in an embrace of which you weren't sure if it was meant to soothe you or himself. You both certainly needed it.

.................................................................................

[monnn]

>Winter Petal✧⁠*

Pairing: non-idol!Wonwoo x gn!reader

Genre: angst, angst and more angst, one-sided love, reader is LOVESICK for Wonu!! >o<"

Warnings: it's just gonna hurt a lot and doesn't end happily, so read at your own risk(I'm sorry)

WC: 3.1+

A/N: oof, hello folks. the past few weeks has been such a roller-coaster and I wasn't really feeling better. I'm doing better now and I hope you are too♡ since this was due for quite a while, it's a bit Ionger than expected. this is the last part of the unexpected series and I hope you have enjoyed it so far! I'll shut up now and let you read, so hold on tight and let yourself feel while reading this! a little song recommendation: I Love You So by The Walters on loop! @-@

part-1, part-2 here!

_________________________________________

PRESENT

Wonu was busy adoring Jiyeon, while your eyes were on him, Jiyeon’s voice snapping you out of your trance.

“You’ll be there as early as possible. I better see you at the venue, at least a week before. Please Y/N?”she goes on, from demanding to begging real quick.

“I'll try my best Ji. You know how busy I can get” you say, sipping your hot chai.

They were getting married.

Wonwoo was getting married and it wasn't to you.

The biggest heart break of all times.

The thought of Wonwoo being the first of your friends’ circle to be hitched, is beyond you. Wonu hated commitments, relationships didn't matter.

“I still can't believe you're marrying this annoying ass, Jiyeon. He must've really worked wonders for his previous eight lives” you say, playfully knocking Wonu’s head, signalling him to get off his phone.

“Are you really my best friend?! You're supposed to be happy for me!” he whines. You just laugh at him instead of replying. Honestly, you were happy for him. Though it wasn't something your heart desired for, you were happy to see Wonwoo happy. Even if it means that you won't ever have a chance with him. Maybe you'll eventually forget him, you think. Though that's almost impossible.

Almost.

“But I agree with Jiyeon. You need to be there ASAP, Y/N. You know how much of a wreck I turn into when I'm stressed. And all of us would have more time to spend with each other. I know how stressful all our lives have been and I'm sure we've all missed each other, so please?” he rambles, all in a single breath. As much as whatever Wonu told was true, you don't think you can physically handle it all. It’d be too overwhelming for you, with your emotions splayed out and heart on your sleeve, waiting to be ripped off by none other than the groom. So, you chose the safest option – to arrive on the wedding day.

“I'll try my best Wonu. I can only wonder how stressful it can be for the both of you, but I also know you guys are THE powerful duo who can overcome anything. So, I’ll root for the both of you, hoping everything would turn out well and I'll see you on your big day” you say, wearing a warm smile covering the growing pain in you.

The couple radiate the warmest of energy and nod at whatever you said as it’s nothing but the absolute truth. They've always been this way, unbreakable no matter what. You used to envy that, as your college-self wanted them to low-key breakup. You and Wonwoo were THAT powerful duo before Jiyeon came through, it was only human for you to be jealous of them. Now you just feel tender looking at them, there's no jealousy, which is truly surprising.

◇

Days pass by sooner than you think and you're on your way to the destination. As weird as Wonwoo can get, the wedding’s happening in winter instead of spring or summer like the others do. He was specific about this as he met Jiyeon in winter. Little did anyone know that the both of you met in winter too. Well, it was winter in your lives as you and Wonu were both loners. It’s almost fateful for the both of you to be stuck with each other for so long.

If only this wasn’t platonic, everything would be straight out of a well-written romance fiction. (haha, unlike this one)

Your said date a.k.a Seungcheol, had picked you up from your place early in the morning to drive you. Jeonghan had planned all this, since he can stay without a date as his sister was coming along. Cheol was great company, and he didn’t need to have conversations with you, making the whole scene feel alien. You were truly grateful for that, as you didn’t really have an appetite to digest the things spewed by others at the wedding. The weather was getting a bit warm for winter, making you roll your window down, feeling the sharp yet soothing breeze while you try not to feel like your heart’s about to be grilled because of the emotions you felt. Your thoughts were interrupted by Jeonghan calling Cheol, who’s phone was connected to the speaker. You pick it before he reaches, Cheol sending a small smile to you.

“Hey Cheollie, how far away are you guys?” you hear Hannie, enquiring like the mum he is.

“Hi Han, we’re an hour away. How’s it going over there?” you ask, warmth crawling up your cheeks.

“Hi Y/N!!! I can’t wait to see you,” he pauses, the boys screaming in the background as they hear about you. “These morons won’t let me speak to you, so I'm gonna hang up now and see you both soon!” he says, seemingly pushing Soonie away as he was whining over the speaker to you about not being there sooner.

Laughing, you almost hang up before pausing to ask something.

“Oh, and Han?”

“Yeah, love?”

“How’s he? Is he alright?” you ask, curiously.

Sensing how concerned you were, Han chose to not make it harder.

“He’s alright for now, babe. He’ll be okay. I’d ask about you but it’s way too early and I want you to be wrapped in my arms for at least 20mins before I ask you anything” he says, sighing in relief.

“Hannie, I thought WE were married!” Cheol whines, as you laugh at how he’s sulking over the affection Han has for you. It’s cute, how they’ve been each other's rock for so long and yours too. You’ve genuinely missed your friends so much, your heart aches a little at the instances where you avoided them to protect your peace.

Hannie’s giggles bring you back, as he replies saying that they’re over if Cheol doesn’t get us there ASAP. Now you’re dealing with a sulky Cheol, who’s whining at how Han’s pulling tricks always, though you can’t help but just laugh at your friends’ antics.

Time flies and you’re at the wedding, a whiny Chan and Soon clinging onto you as you walk. They lead you guys to where the others are and upon the sight of you, Han’s running over to you. He jumps on to you as you topple down, Hannie having no intention of letting you go. He asks about Cheol, who insisted that he can drop the bags in your room all by himself. You guys just lay on the grass for a bit and he gets up as the weather’s still a bit cold, to drag you inside the resort. Seeing all your friends made you tear up a bit, which led to all of you shedding a few tears as you guys hug the sadness away. It’s wholesome than sad, because of how much these idiots mean to you and vice versa. The friendships you’ve built with each of them is so darn precious to you and it’s baffling how you were ready to throw this all away, just for that one man. Who was now about to be married. Pushing this aside, you search for two of your other friends who were nowhere to be found. In the garden area of the resort, you find them caressing their own drinks. Mingyu’s got champagne while Jihoon’s in love with his whiskey. They’re still the same old dorks you met; you ponder over while walking towards to them.

“Already?” you say, startling the both of them as they were lost in their own drinking shenanigans.

Mingyu is the first one to get up, lifting you up while he gulfs you into him. He’s so warm and smells like home, you’ve missed this puppy.

“I’m so glad to see you, Y/N. Do you need a drink too?” he asks, ready to order one for you. You shake your head, not wanting to show up drunk at your best friend’s wedding. The minute Mingyu lets you down, you run to hug Jihoon. You feel tears stinging your eyes, heart feeling heavier than ever. Sensing that you need your time with Jihoon, Mingyu walks away telling that he’ll see you around and to contact him if anything. You hug him goodbye before turning back to Jihoon.

Honestly, he’s the best person to let your thoughts be and to just sit with it than avoiding it like a plague. Jihoon glances at you, ordering a glass of gin with ginger ale while you were settling down. Once the drink arrives, he pushes it to your side, signalling you to have it.

“Jihoon....I can’t” you say, hesitantly but low-key really needing some alcohol in your system.

“You’ll need it for later, Y/N. Have it please?” he requests, raising his glass and waiting for you to clink them with. You give up, taking the glass and toasting it with Jihoon’s before having a sip. The way your sip lasted more than it was supposed to, seemed like you were quenching your thirst but with alcohol.

Well, fuck being sober at the love of your life’s wedding, I guess.

You hang with Jihoon for a bit more, before a cute Joshua is waltzing through the room, letting you know that it’s time to get ready for the ceremony. At this, Jihoon just nodded at you and hugged you off, saying that he’ll see you at the hall in a bit. The hug lingered for a while which was broke by Jisoo, coughing to subtly steal you away from everyone.

What was with him?

Well, he had a crush on you. Everyone else knew, except for you. Even Wonwoo knew. Shua wasn’t sure if his adoration has stayed a crush for so long, but he wasn’t ready to give up on you. Though a part of him is sad that you’re not the bride, he’s slightly happier to have a chance to woo you. (PS: everyone knew you were head over heels for Wonu, cheers to being the monarch of simp nation. JK, you were too obvious around him)

Hand wrapped around his arm, Shua leads you to your room, informing that Cheol will be over to pick you up in two hours or so. You slowly get into your dress, adoring how beautiful it looks before the makeup artist’s knocking at your door. You let them in and then sit down to get your makeup done, while you snack on carrots and stay on your phone. In no time, you’re dolled up real nice and right on time, Cheol enters. He smiles at you before engulfing you in a hug, careful not to ruin the art you are.

“You look lovely, Y/N. If I weren’t gay and married to Han, I’d walk down the aisle with you tonight.” he jokes, making you laugh.

“There we go, a smile was all that was missing” he says, taking your hands in his.

“How are you feeling, dove?” he asks, eyes scanning for any discomfort or sadness.

“I’m doing alright, Cheol. Thank you for checking up on me, always” you say, giving his hands a tight little squeeze.

“Glad that Jihoon made me have a good ol’ glass of Bombay Sapphire with ginger ale. I think I can survive the ceremony without breaking down and confessing my love to Wonu, while he’s getting married to Jiyeon” you blurt out, jokingly. There’s a moment of silence as Cheol gawks at what you said before you tell him that it was a joke and how they should get going before it gets late.

Guess you are late, as the person you love would be walking the aisle with his lover, who sadly isn’t you.

Before entering the hall, you go over to see the bride and groom. You head to Jiyeon’s room, heart hurting yet happy for her. Knocking on the door, you open it to see Jiyeon, pacing around the room in her wedding gown. She looks ethereal, and so ready to share her life with your best friend. As soon as she notices you, she runs towards you to hug, and tries to collect her breaths.

“Y/N, I can’t do this. I can’t. Can you marry Wonwoo instead?” she asks, voice laced with panic. It’s pathetic how you actually consider that for a minute. Laughing it off, you pull Jiyeon back, holding her hands in yours, eyes meeting hers while you muster up the courage to say –

“Hey Ji. You’ll be alright, okay? It’s not someone you don’t know, it’s just Wonu. Everything will be alright. Breathe for me, please?"

“Right, you’re right Y/N. It's Wonwoo, why’d I didn’t think of that? Anyways, thank you Y/N. Though you’ve always been his rock, you secretly managed to be mine too” she says, a wide smile plastered on her face.

“So, I'll see you on the aisle, yeah? All the best Ji, you’ve got this” you say, leaving before she replies. Your feelings were up your throat, waiting to be pushed out anytime if you hadn’t left the room. You do the same thing you told Jiyeon – breathe. You take a few deep breaths, fixing yourself as you head towards your best friend.

Best friend.

As you were about to knock, the door opens revealing an equally nervous yet, oh-so beautifully dressed Wonu. He’s pulling you inside, locking the door behind, not giving you time to process. You wait for him to say something, instead he just looks at you like he’s about to cry if you don’t hug him.

So, you do. You embrace him in your arms, for the last time as a bachelor and probably the last time as your love.

After staying in each other’s warmth for a while, he lets go, letting you take a good look at him.

“God damn, Wonu! You look so sharp, didn’t know you could stop being in your nerd element” you joke, winking at him. He laughs, before twirling lazily to give you a 360 of his carefully crafted tux.

“Ready, big guy?” you ask, searching for any hint of resistance in his eyes. He locks eyes with you, nodding slowly. Things have always been like this with him, words didn’t seem like a necessity. You were more than glad to not be talking more than that because honestly, you wouldn't be in one piece.

“Yeah. Yes, I’m ready Y/N. Don’t think I've ever been sure of anything, than this moment right now.” he says, lips curling into a soft smile. That smile of his was reserved, only you had seen it apart from Jiyeon, of course. You reciprocate the same, hugging him for the one last time and leaving the room with the feeling of your heart, suddenly weighing a ton.

As soon as you exit the room, you find Cheol pacing around in the hallway. At the sight of you standing outside Wonwoo’s room, Seungcheol is walking towards you.

“Hey dove, you alright?” he asks, so full of concern. You smile so much as a reply. So much that your cheeks hurt and tears slowly start to well up from within the depths of your fragile heart.

“I'm okay Seungcheol. Let's head to the hall before we're late, yeah?” you slur, trying to shake your tears off. He comprehends how sensitive you are and just nods at you, silently hooking your arm to his while the both of you walk towards to hall.

You realize, the pain you feel, is beyond anything your brain could fathom and mere words can describe how much it hurts.

The hall looks so elegant and everyone there look so beautiful, like dolls in a dollhouse. There are lots of orchids and tulips, as an ornament to the room, making it look so soft yet neat. You move towards your friends, praising how good they look in their tuxedoes and chit-chatting your way through the whole thing, trying your best not to think.

Weirdly, Joshua’s by you the whole time, stuck like gum. Not that you mind it or anything, it's actually really comfortable. Cheol had left your side to sit with Hannie and he had taken over. His subtle touches and the way he looks at you – it helps you feel so grounded and you're more than thankful for that.

Music starts playing, indicating the beginning of the ceremony as you see Wonwoo, gracefully walking down the aisle with a faint blush and a soft smile set on his gorgeous face. Your heart falters at the sight and it refuses to function further when he looks at you, sending you one of his reserved smiles. You reciprocate the same, hands slowly being taken into Jisoo’s. You're amazed at how helpful his touches have been, it's shocking.

Gazing at Wonu, everything fades out for you except for the love you have for him.

And in no time, Jiyeon’s walked in, vowing to love your best friend until the last of her breath and with everything she’s got. You can feel your heart clenching, and Joshua senses the same too, as your clammy hands squeeze his unconsciously.

The thing was, Shua didn't need words from you to understand either. He looks at you, his pretty eyes checking for any discomfort and when you smile back at him, he decides not to bother you further.

There's a sudden cheering of the crowd, making you turn your head towards the couple as you see them kissing.

Vows were said, promises were made and bonds were created.

It was too late for you to do anything. You feel the emotions rushing out of you as you excuse yourself to get away from there.

I need some air you say, to all your worried friends. So busy running away from the love of your life, you don't notice Joshua following you.

As soon as you get out, clutching your chest you slump down onto the sofa at the lobby as tears paint your face. The pain is so much that you find yourself trying hard to breathe while the emotions keep nagging at you and drowning you in the depth of the love you have for Wonwoo.

While trying to calm yourself down, you feel a hand on your shoulder, the radiating warmth grounding you for the Nth time this night. You look up thinking it's Jihoon, but it's not.

Hong Jisoo stands there, tears in his eyes but also looking so fondly at you.

As if you're a porcelain tea cup who’d break if looked at any harder.

You feel pathetic, but Joshua pulls you into a hug, letting you wet his shoulders to your heart’s content. Hearts suddenly seem to weigh a ton, the energy draining all while you try your best to catch the breath you never had in the first place.

He's gone. The love of your life is no longer yours.

Jeon Wonwoo, your best friend but also the person who mattered so much, like how the sun was to the moon.

For the coldness in him, he had found his summer. But left you to be nothing, than a petal of the harsh Winter, waiting to writhe away in utter grief.

_________________________________________

A/N: There's now an epilogue to this series, you can find it here!

[applealchemist]

is this team cooked or nah

[gggreengoblin]

3.1 K words. It is 3rd part of my Girl!Daniel fic. Part 1 | Part 2

Summary :: During an argument, Daniel said something she shouldn't have said to Max. She had to navigate the consequences of her rash action.

She was seated in the passenger seat of a rental car and couldn't stop herself from jigging her legs along the beats of the rap song. She had been away from a circuit for too long. Excitement was fueling her body. Once again, her system was flooded by adrenaline, making her feel alive.

"Please stop, Daniel. You are making me anxious." The driver said. Well, he was, technically, not a driver. Just a Red Bull crew who picked her up from the airport.

Daniel warped her hands around her jeans-cladded knees. "Ah, sorry. I am just excited. I've been stuck in England for weeks. It's nice to be able to travel again."

"I heard about that," he said. "I think it is a bad idea, really. If I could afford to live in Monaco, I would leave London in a heartbeat. And for you, to do the opposite is-" he made a hand gesture with his right hand while the other holding the steering wheel.

"Nuts, right? It only took me two weeks to realize it was a bad idea." She laughed at her own stupidity.

It was silly of her to think moving would solve her problem. It was a mistake– a big one. Turns out London was too lonely, too cold, and bleak for Daniel's taste. And nothing could help her feel better there.

The only thing she could think about was her old normal. She missed traveling, sunny days, and a friend who would visit her whenever he could. So when Red Bull told her to prepare herself to do some testing during the Fp1, she was overjoyed. She packed her bags and suitcases, shoving her racing gears, which were still inside an unopened cardboard box.

They wanted her to arrive at the media day morning. So she boarded the plane, put her Red Bull polo on once she arrived at the airport, and went straight to the circuit.

When they arrived, the paddock was bustling, full of journalists and crews. They interviewed and took pictures of the drivers like they could get enough of them. Some of them said hello to her. The PR team snapped some pictures of her while she was dragging her suitcase and bags through that overcrowded place.

"Hi, guys!" She waved at the camera. And they waved back.

She unpacked her suitcase in her driver's room. She took out her racing gears and hung them in the small closet. For a moment, she let herself admire her racing suit. Oh, how she loved its color, but she loved it more because it had her name and flag printed on its waist.

And then she went to the garage. She met with her newly found engineer friends, the ones she bugged whenever she felt the need to do something during her weeks-long exile in England. They were already working; paper, pens, and tablets were scattered around the long table. She stood among them, trying to mimic her surroundings.

Heavy technical talk bore her, so Daniel wandered and walked around the garage. She ran her hand on every surface there, just a ghost of touch, not moving things or pushing any buttons. She wanted to burn this experience into her core memory because it might be her last time being inside an F1 garage as a driver, even just as a test driver.

When the engineers had finished their discussion, she approached one of them, who was standing in front of the monitor, reading his notes. She greeted him. She knew that man, Theo. He was a friendly Englishman.

"I didn't know we would use Max's garage. So cool," she said.

He just smiled and showed her his black binders. "Look at this." He explained to her what they would do the next day. "I think it would be great to finally test it out with a real car because the sim test data is immaculate. Thanks to you, we have more than enough data from the sim."

"Yeah. I can't wait." Honestly, Daniel didn't understand half of the things Theo said, but she got the picture. It was okay, she would get a detailed explanation during the briefing anyway.

"I feel like building a rocket ship, not a car."

She understood what he meant. These cars were beasts. Fast and reliable. Some people had already called them rocket ships.

A big hand squeezed her left shoulder lightly. Max was standing beside her. "I heard you were here," he said, a little breathless. Clearly, he was running away from his media duty and sneaked to the garage.

Like everyone in this garage, he was clad from head to toe with their merch. There was something different about him that she could not put a finger on yet. But she noticed his new cologne. It was sweeter than usual, with maybe a little bit of a chocolate undertone in it.

"What's up, Maxy? Do you miss me already?" She offered him her biggest smile.

"Do you miss me?"

"I asked first." There was a hope in her heart that he would say he missed her. She had limited their texting for the last few weeks. It would be impossible for her to move on if they were still texting every single day.

"I do miss your cookies."

"Only my cookies?" she teased. "Too bad, I didn't bring any."

"I need to talk to you about something. Can we move to somewhere more private?" Max said, out of the blue.

Daniel looked at Theo who just gave them a knowing glance. "I need to go back to work." He gathered his papers and put them back inside his binder. "See you later, Daniel. Bye, Max."

"Can we go to your driver's room?" Max said after Theo left. It was an unusual request. They didn't hang out in their driver's rooms.

"Yeah." Curiosity got the best of her sometimes. "What's going on?"

Max led her into the narrow hallway, exiting the garage. "Who is he?"

"Our engineer. A friend. Why?"

"Great. So you still like your mysterious guy?"

"I guess."

"When will you have time to visit Monaco?"

She opened her door and let them in. "Sorry, it's a mess." She pushed her suitcase and bags that were lying around on the floor to the corner of the room. "I can visit you during winter break, maybe before Christmas. Why?"

"Daniil just broke up with his girlfriend. If you want, Kelly and I can arrange dinner for you."

She froze. "Dinner with Daniil?" She turned around and faced Max, who had a blank look on his face. "Wow! What? Did I- did I miss something?"

"You like him, right? I want you to be happy, Daniel. If he can do that, I will do anything to make it happen."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it! You two are so cruel!" The thought of Max and Kelly discussing her dating life made her blood boil. And for them playing matchmaker, arranging Daniel a date with Kelly’s ex not the least, was unbelievably evil.

"You said you like him!"

"I never said that!" she said, raising her voice. "You made your own conclusion. Just leave it alone, yeah. Why do you have to always bring it up? Every single conversation we have had has always ended with you bringing this topic up." She wished she never opened her mouth and blabbed her feelings to Max. If she knew Max would be obsessed with this, then she would have buried this secret even deeper.

"I just want to help, Daniel."

"But your help only makes things worse."

"Then tell me what I can do!"

"Just let it go, yeah. It would be better for us if you just left it alone."

"No. I know you are miserable. Let me do something. Tell me. Just tell me who it is, Daniel. I promise I will shut up after this."

"It's you, alright," she said.

The room became quiet. Max just stood there, looking directly at her, not blinking. She could hear her heartbeats in her ears. She felt her palms become wet and cold. She wished she could disintegrate and become a pile of dust, gone, blown away by the wind.

She cleared her dry throat, trying to find her voice. "Can we move on, now?"

"What do you mean?" He finally said something after a minute of silence.

"Max, I'm sorry. Please forget it, okay? I don't mean to say that. My feelings will pass, and everything will go back to normal. I don't want to ruin everything. Shit." She opened the door and gently pushed him out of her driver's room. But he was larger and stronger. He didn't even budge.

"I love you too."

"No, you don't." She tried again, pulling on his bare front arm, trying to drag him out of her private room. She just wanted to be alone and hide in her room, God damn. "Don't make fun of me like this."

There was no point in trying to make a grown man move when he didn't want to. So she left him there. She ran back to the garage while doing her breathing exercises to calm herself down. She knew Max was trailing behind her. She could feel his gaze behind her head.

She found Theo's notebook lying on the table, unattended. She opened that binder with her shaking and sweaty hand, pretending to read. She was trying to look busy, so no one talked to her.

"I was not making fun of you," Max said with a hushed voice. He was standing close to her, too close, so no one could hear what he said.

Daniel scanned the garage. She was grateful there was no camera pointed at them. It would be a nightmare if people knew. Sure, Netflix would put their conversation in the documentary if they caught them in a video. "Not now, Max. I need to focus on tomorrow's testing." She took a step away from him.

"Daniel, there you are!" said a crew member from across the garage. She walked closer to them. "I was checking your room to make sure you got everything you needed, and I noticed you didn't have your balaclava. They said that you bring your own gear now."

"Sweet, I might have left them in my bedroom," Daniel said bitterly.

"It's okay, we'll find one."

.....

After she was done with the day, she packed her things from her driver's room and went to the hotel. She took a quick shower and changed her clothes. She was grateful to see that the black silk blouse she brought was not totally crumpled. She put a little makeup on her face- just a hint of color on her tired face. The humid air of the city made her curls difficult to manage, so she straightened them and tied them into a ponytail. She put a bandage on her bleeding thumb and then left the hotel.

She let out a sigh of relief when he got into the taxi the hotel had ordered for her. She asked the driver to take her to the shopping district of the city.

She opened her phone, which had been vibrating every few minutes for the last hour. She received several messages and missed calls from Max. She turned her phone off and kept it in the small sling bag she carried.

Daniel visited several unique shops on the street but didn't buy anything. Occasionally, she met fans who recognized her. They greeted her and some asked for selfies with her. She didn't mind.

She ends up visiting a cafe. She stopped by because she smelled the freshly baked pastry from inside of the cafe. She ordered some pastries and a cup of fancy latte to brighten her mood.

She sat in the corner, far from the big front windows. She didn't want to be disturbed. She wanted to dwell on her thoughts in peace for a bit. She didn't want to touch on what happened a couple of hours earlier. She wanted to put the memory in an imagination box and lock it, but she couldn't. It kept appearing in her consciousness even when she kept pushing it away.

Daniel wanted to blame it on Max. Because he had pushed her into confessing her feelings to him. But, can she? Maybe it was because of the nature of emotion. You can only suppress it for a certain period of time; after that, it will bleed. Like pushing a bubble of air inside water, the bubble would always surface.

It was already said. She couldn’t take it back. The only thing she could do now was navigate the disastrous aftermath. Maybe this was the end of their friendship. Was it a friendship if she had not thought of Max as “only a friend” for years?

She ate the cake and sipped her latte slowly. She savored them until she felt like several hours had passed. She asked the waiter what time it was; it was 8 o'clock. A good time to go back to her hotel. She needed a good night's sleep for tomorrow anyway.

When Daniel returned to her hotel, she found Max pacing in the hallway of her room. He played with his phone while putting one of his hands on his hip. When he saw Daniel, he immediately pocketed his phone and walked towards Daniel's door.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting in front of your door for almost an hour." He cranked his head to talk to her. With her heels on, she was a couple of inches taller than him.

"Jeez, everyone has their own thing going on, Max. Besides, you didn't tell me you would be here, right?"

Max observed Daniel's appearance from head to toe, lingering on her neck, where she put her dainty silver neck chain on. "Dinner?" he said.

"No, thanks. I'm good."

"I mean, did you just come back from dinner?"

"No, I was just walking around. Window shopping. What do you want?"

"Can we talk about earlier?"

"Do we really need to talk about it? Listen, I'm sorry. It was so selfish of me. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Can we talk inside your room? I— I need to explain everything to you."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Max."

"So you want to talk here? Okay," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Daniel looked around. There were only them in the hallway, but who could guarantee that no one would eavesdrop on their conversation? She took the key card from her bag, opened the door, and let them in.

"Please, be quick. What do you want to explain?" Daniel put her bag on the nightstand and took off the high heels while sitting on the edge of her bed. She massaged the soles of her feet. They were sore from her long walk.

Max stood there, four feet in front of her. She can still smell the circuit's aroma that clings to his skin and clothes. He took off his cap and ran his right-hand fingers through his hair. "I want you to know that I have been loving you for years."

Dumbfounded, she stared at him. She said nothing because her brain was overwhelmed by his confession.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Max said.

She shook her head. She felt her heart stop beating. She gripped the bedsheets. Trying to remember her grounding exercise. Who would believe him, though? When a guy who was in a long-term relationship with another woman told you that, it sounded like a lie, right?

"I broke up with her right after our conversation in the garage. Daniel, I was with her because I thought you only saw me as a friend."

She still couldn't process what she had just heard.

"Say something, Daniel."

"Ah, yeah– I–" she tried to form a sentence. She cleared her constricting throat and took a deep breath. "Max, that's so wrong."

"I want to be with you."

It took her back to a couple of years earlier. Daniel remembered what had happened to her at that time. Rumors had circulated that she was the reason one of her friends broke up with his girlfriend. It made her head spin, and she tasted a bitter sensation in her tongue.

"We can't! You just broke up like hours ago! I want to retire. I want to enjoy my last months of racing in peace, Max. The last thing I need is to be followed by drama everywhere I go. If people find out—if she tells the media why the two of you broke up—they will hunt me down." She still remembered how every interview she did always discussed that gossip. How they monitored and analyzed Daniel's interactions with her male friends. She wished she would never have to go through that again. 

Max took her clammy hands, enveloping them in his bigger ones. His hands were freezing too. Maybe she was not the only one who felt lost, they were in the same sinking boat after all. "We are not celebrities," he said, "nothing will happen."

"Oh, you don't remember. They will find out and paint me as the bad guy. It did happen years ago, even when I had nothing to do with that breakup. I don't want to be put in that situation again."

''I didn't tell her anything about you. I will be okay, Daniel."

"She will know, Max. You broke up after we saw each other for the first time in weeks." Kelly was a smart woman. She surely would put two and two together. And if she were a cunning person, she would make this public to gain more attention, clicks, and followers. She could turn her misery into money.

"If something happens, I will take care of it. I promise. I will tell the PR in the morning." He held her hands tighter. “Give us a chance."

"We can't be together now, at least not yet. We will screw things up if we rush into this. We are not thinking clearly." She pulled her hands from his hold and stood up. There was a need to put some distance between them. This closeness felt too much, suffocating.

"We just found out about each other's feelings this morning. And I think you are downplaying your feelings for her, too. You're not a heartless monster, Max. If you feel nothing, you won't spend years in a relationship with her. Let's wait."

“How long do we have to wait?” He looked at her with his doe, pleading eyes.

“I don’t know.”

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Oh, look, more Ted Lasso 3.1 thoughts

So many. Let's go to the bullet points:

Rebecca thinking she's fine about the whole Rupert and Nate thing and clearly NOT being okay with it to the point of wanting Ted to be an asshole in response to Nate, but then, when Ted is Ted, Rebecca's realization comes from Keeley PRAISING her for a decision she didn't even make. But Rebecca realizing through Keeley's genuine praise (because Keeley wasn't there) that the best decision is to let Ted be Ted was just a really great, layered Rebecca moment.

Keeley's office doesn't look like Keeley. The neon sign does. Her wardrobe does. Those people in that office? The couch furniture in her own office? None of that is Keeley. That is Keeley thinking this is what it looks like to go into corporate PR with investor money. I look forward to watching furry pillows and glittery accessories take over the office as Keeley finds her confidence in a different phase of her career.

We all fucking know Roy is the one who decided they needed a break, and Roy, you fucking walnut. I get it. I look forward to the story of it. But the story is Keeley saying, "If I put this off again," and trying to comfort Roy, and Phoebe, smart nugget that she is, knowing stupid when she sees it. Keeley has agreed to this break up because Roy thinks it's needed, and she has no doubt spent a lot of time trying to talk him out of it. They deserve each other wholly, and I can't wait for Roy to get slapped in the face with that.

The himbos are doing great. So proud of all of them. But, yes, especially Jamie but also Richard making clear that a fine wine is not an expensive wine. But also also, all of our boys.

I love you, Jan Mass. You keep up being Dutch, kiddo.

Beard being proud of Ted for learning soccer shit and also knowing how long to wait before getting back on the bus with a toad venom-addled driver is just the perfect dichotomy of Beard.

I have a lot of thoughts about Ted's actual relationship with Henry (clearly positive and happy and healthy) and what he thinks the relationship is (distant and unhappy because he's not physically there), but if I go down that road, I'm never coming back. In short, I hope that part of Ted's journey this season is realizing he is a great fucking father and that physical distance doesn't change that.

Ted calling Sharon for a clearly planned session right after dropping off Henry? That is fucking PROGRESS my friends. And not just that, but also he doesn't question Sharon setting time boundaries OR setting personal boundaries.

I LOVE that Sharon allows him to ask personal questions because the personal connection is absolutely what Ted needs. And I love that she refuses to give him clear answers and doesn't rise to the bait he tries to set out with 'You usually say no'. The way he asks the team and the sport then asks the number of Australians, then guesses rugby, and Sharon confirms NOTHING? That's top-tier therapist shit. And we all knew she was that good, but now Ted clearly knows it too and TRUSTS it, more importantly.

I didn't notice until gif sets, but they named the stadium after Earl. Which. Shut up.

Higgins having matching Keeley mascara on his shirt makes me SO HAPPY. Because it tells you without showing you that Higgins and Keeley are still close and caring about each other. And Rebecca and Higgins having a moment about it is so NICE. Just NICE. It's fucking NICE.

I mentioned Sharon's boytoy in another post, but I want to repeat it because 1) she deserves it, and 2) he shows he deserves HER because he's wearing headphones while she talks to a client, and he doesn't take them off until after she walks in the room, clearly off the phone. He respects her as a professional. This is very important and excellent.

I am going to find Rupert and kick him in the balls as many times as I can in one minute, then I'm going to take a five minute breather and start again.

The isolation of Nate at West Ham (alone on the escalator; not answering to a polite hello; standing far away from his co-coach on the field; working far away from the locker room) is intentionally uncomfortable for us as an audience. We're used to a very collaborative coach in a close-knit environment. But that's not Nate's story. Nate's story is one of thinking isolation and arrogance will save him from his worst self-fears. We all know that shouldn't be his goal, but it isn't about how WE know he's wrong. It's about NATE figuring out he's doing it wrong.

There is no fucking way Rupert didn't know it was Nate's car when he towed it. New guy. New car in the fancy lot. Does he ask, though? No. That would be healthy. Instead, he sets it up so Nate can see he's disappointed in him without him saying it (a common abuse tactic), and then lovebombing him with a new car as a way to tighten his control (another common abuse tactic). He also encouraged Nate's worst tendencies to build a sense of safety that isn't actually there because Rupert will absolutely use those same groomed instincts at a later date against Nate (more abuse tactics).

I hope Rupert gets him by a team bus is what I'm saying. And I want Nate to be driving it and do it on purpose, frankly.

I don't want it to be Rebecca only because she's beyond that point of her anger. But I def want her to be a character witness for Nate.

I want Ted to stay in England. He's talking a lot about how he doesn't know why he is where he is or doing what he's doing. And I know a lot of people hope he goes back to Kansas. But that's not my hope. My hope is that Ted will realize he's doing great stuff with these boys and that he's a great dad even with physical distance, and he finds a new love and appreciation for himself that is directly connected to making this huge, confusing, and messy leap to go to England.

You can do something dumb (run to England to escape your failing marriage) and learn that while your instincts may have been dumb, the overall result is positive and good for you.

Which, also, could be Nate's arc this season. He made several dumb decisions about being a source and going to West Ham, but the end result could be, "Oh, shit, I don't want to be this shitty person." and then he can grow and change on a similar but different path to Ted.

Okay, that's enough. That's very long. I get a lot of feels.

[igglemouse]

Song of the Day!

In case anyone wants to know why I do these song of the day's its mainly done to just separate my posting. You know if you're scrolling that another day has passed. Someone once told me that they really liked that about my blog!

Episode 2.3 should post tomorrow! No possible date on 3.1 right now but if you look at my master post you will see the name and hint of the 3rd heir! Definitely an alien! That one should be fun I've been wanting to do an alien for a loooooooooooooong time. Since starting really lol, one just never won a heir vote and I just never thought to start with one but I can't wait to reveal more about Zer! Just a hint, for those who have been around with me for a long time if you enjoyed old Ben Diaz you will enjoy Zer!

Capping off episode 2 my confidence is high! While I know it won't get any more likes/comments than my other stuff for 'reasons' I do know the story will be awesome for anyone that chooses to join along on the ride!

As for the pace, I'm happy with the pace of it, have had some things slow down the posting more than I would like but even with that Frida is 25% done with her first year (of what I've played) and that's with a pretty busy month I've had!

Also I'm posting this on pillowfort, which is behind, and always looking for other alternatives!

ALSO! If anyone ever wants to collab just let me know! I don't get many offers for that but it'd be cool to do!

Truth is strong, and sometime or other will prevail. ~ Mary Astell