#expect either another update or never to be seen again :(

[inamindfarfaraway]

AITA for paying my employee minimum wage?

I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I suppose unusual events may call for unusual responses. I (male in my 70s) am a wealthy businessman, landlord and moneylender, making most of my income from rent and debts. My clerk (male in his 30s) is my only employee. He has a family with a few kids, not sure how many. I pay him a perfectly respectable minimum wage for his position and I even gave all of tomorrow off with pay for Christmas, despite my opinion that a frivolous holiday is not that good a reason to skip work. He’s worked for me for many years and never once complained about his pay or conditions. He might not particularly enjoy his job either, but he doesn’t have to. It’s work, not play. Hell, I don’t particularly enjoy my job.

However, this evening… I heard another point of view. You’d never believe me if I told you everything and it feels like a dream - I’d certainly like it to be a dream, but I don’t see how I could have thought of it - but let’s just say that I was visited by an old friend. He’d been my business partner (male in his late 60s). Seven years ago he… left and I never expected to see him again. He came back though, apparently just to tell me off. He’s not doing well. He’s been travelling among all sorts of people and deeply disturbed by what he’s seen. The plight of ‘mankind’ and all that. He made a big deal about how I should be nicer to people and more generous and such, as if it were a matter of life and death. Last I knew we were on the same page about everything, but just now he looked at me like I was a criminal. Or an asshole, as it were. I don’t understand it.

I want to stress that nothing I’m doing is illegal. None of my business, none of how I treat my clerk. Well, I imagine that technically, if you were being harsh, you could argue that occasionally my conduct toward him falls under ‘harassment’, but I think that’s a stretch. When I’m strict, it’s out of valid concern for productivity. I am truly dedicated to my work; all I ask is that my clerk be the same. If he needs more money so badly, he should have the guts to ask for it and explain himself (I’d still have to consider my answer, but at least I’d know that he felt that way) or just find a different job or perhaps, heaven forbid, be a bit more financially responsible. If he has to scrape together Christmas festivities, maybe he shouldn’t bother celebrating it at all, for example. Why spend his money on that instead of food or clothes? Or keeping or investing it? I’ve saved as much as possible and I’m all the better off for it. I think it’s far more likely that he simply wants more than he deserves - if he does want a raise, which he hasn’t said! He agreed to this pay. We made an arrangement, and based on the stable routine of all these years, it benefits both of us. I don’t know why my friend thinks there’s a problem.

But he does. He was… he was seriously unhappy with me. I’ve never known him to be so sentimental, and he wouldn’t get that emotional for absolutely no reason, so here I am. Am I ‘the asshole’ for paying my employee a completely legal and normal minimum wage?

Update:

I think I probably am the asshole here. I’ve read your feedback, done a lot of reflection, taken quite the walk down memory lane, and among other things I remembered my old boss and how he treated me. He dominated so much of my life, he could have done the bare minimum or made me miserable, but he was nice. He just chose to be kind. Like he asked “Why not?” when I always tend to ask “Why?”. And he payed me better than I pay my employee, especially relative to his income. I can definitely afford to give my clerk a raise, and treat him with more respect while I’m at it. Authority is a powerful thing. I’ve… I’ve been taking advantage of it. I’ve been taking my clerk for granted. But he’s a good worker and he deserves to be rewarded. I’ll raise his pay when he comes back in on Boxing Day.

Thank you for your advice. I don’t appreciate the insults - I am not a parasite, I have pulled myself up with my own honest work, and there’s nothing wrong with getting ahead when it’s eat or be eaten. We all do what we have to do. But I should also do more. So in hindsight, much of your criticism was accurate and warranted. Good for you. I know it’s a bad time and you must all busy and/or tired. I wasn’t planning to stay up this late. I will now hopefully get some sleep.

Should I say goodbye? I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never done this before. What the hell, why not? Goodnight.

Update:

So. Some more stuff happened and I ended up going for a… a walk, an extremely normal walk, and meeting my clerk’s family. Or at least seeing them. It’s hard to explain. What time is on your computer clocks, by the way? I think mine is broken. Anyway, my clerk is like, Poor. Poor poor. And I’m a huge asshole. I knew theoretically that the minimum wage and the living wage are not the same, but I never really thought about the effects of that, I didn’t want to think about it, but I am now! I’m beyond an asshole, I’m a piece of shit!

This family, they’re struggling so much and they have so many other problems and I’ve kept them living on a pitiful salary. One of their children is sick. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s bad and it’s getting worse. There is a treatment that could help him, but it’s expensive and they can’t afford it, his parents know they can’t afford it, and if he doesn’t get it… I don’t know how long this kid has left. He’s the sweetest little boy and he might not even grow up. These parents love their kids with everything they have, but they can’t fix this. But! But I’m right here! I’ve been right here with all this money all this time, and I never bothered to ask about his family or care or help. It would have been so easy. I wish I’d realised all of this years earlier. I’m such a piece of shit. But I still have time and a plenty of money. I’m going to help. I’ll do everything I can. I promise.

Also, I am sorry for my replies to some of your comments on my original post. I was spiteful and insensitive. I’ve been… very angry for a very long time, more at the world in general than anything else, and in the habit of taking it out on whoever I could. I need to stop that. I’ll add it to the list. Consider those replies redacted. Once again, thank you for your feedback and goodnight. Merry Christmas. I hope you get enough sleep if you’re awake in my time zone at this hour.

update

do you ever think about how we’re all going to die? we could all die at any moment. we never know when we never know how much time we get and that’s why life is sososo precious and you have to use it wisely. but i have not! done that! i’m old i could die any day now. i could die today and what would i have to show? for my entire great big life? loads of money i’m never gonna use? i always thought that how much of something you had was about how you spent it. money and time. what you get is what you give or deserve. but it’s not! it’s mostly just luck and other people. most rich people are just born rich already. then it’s easy to get richer from there. i wasn’t born rich not really but i had a lot of help, a good school, a good boss, my friend, and now that i am rich i do less work for more money. it’s not fair. i’ve fucked up so much for so long and yet i have so much money and i’ve had so much time and i’ve wasted both of them. i don’t need all that money in the first place but that’s what i’ve spent my whole life on, why? what’s the point?

and then on the other hand you have the fact that. children are dying right now. whenever you’re reading this. loads and load of them all over when they don’t have to. fucking kids. and innocent people good people amazing people who are happy who make people happy who use their time infinitely better than i have don’t earn any reward. they don’t get any justice. most people have less than they need and meanwhile so many bastards have so much more. why? what’s the point of it?

why is it like this? why is the world like this? like we waste so much food and water and money so why don’t we just give it to poor people if we’re not going to use it? why do you have to pay for it if there’s so much why can’t? and like rent why do people have to pay rent? why can’t you just live somewhere? or medicine why do you have to pay for that? it’s. it’s life! why do we have to pay for LIFE when you don’t choose to be born? it’s not right.

and i know that there are laws and politics deciding those big things. but we can still make it better right? we can make a difference can’t we? even though there are so many massive problems like poverty and war and hunger and so many people who aren’t helping when they could. it still matters right? being good. even though you’re just one person. right?

why do kids have to die when they don’t have to die

it’s not fair. it’s not fair

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t even be posting this. it’s just venting and rambling and it probably doesn’t make any sense. i swear to god i’m not drunk or high i’m just having a really weird night. it’s like i’ve shut out a million things over decades and tonight they’re all flooding in at once.

i just. i feel like i’m dying and i need to get these thoughts out of my head. i need to know that they’re real and i’m real and i’m alive. i need to know that it matters.

i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.

UPDATE!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not dead and I don’t think I’m crazy, I honestly feel the best I have in ages, and I will not elaborate on last night because that’ll only raise more questions but I will say this! I paid for my clerk’s Christmas dinner and I’m gonna give him a gigantic raise! I also donated a fuckton to charity! Thank you all so much I love you!!!!!

Update:

Happy Boxing Day, everyone. After that rollercoaster, I thought I ought to formally conlude this strange saga. My clerk came back to work this morning and I gave him his raise and a profound apology, as well as paid leave until a couple of days after New Year’s. To call him surprised would be an understatement. It was very fun. I totally understand if he chooses to get a new job now, but I hope we keep in touch. He’s a wonderful person. And I’d like to know if his son will be okay.

Although I haven’t got far yet (I’ve been catching up with family, I was the asshole there too, but no need to dump that baggage on you now that it’s being resolved), I am planning to make some major reforms to my business strategies. I’ve lowered rent on my properties to something affordable, for a start. I’m also researching charities and community projects. I have a great deal of moral debt to redeem. You can make a difference and I’m gonna prove it.

Many thanks for your support and concern, and rest assured that I’m in about as good health as I can be at this age, with the caveat of a mild hangover after a Christmas party. Turns out I like parties. I am processing that… ah, crisis, and I have people who care about me and a strong resolve to ground me. I will look into therapy.

I wish you all the best. I meant it, so I’ll repeat it: I love you. And my old friend, if you’re reading this wherever you are now, thank you for that intervention. It was worth it. I hope you’re doing better and we can talk again someday.

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part after five but not part 6 (one shot),

it is often rare for lord toji to bring in guests, ameera tells you. unbeknownst to all of you, word of one of the greatest handlers for the underworld having a little... sweetheart, was big enough news to stir the world of god drama.

"it's sir zenin!" madam mildred hisses at both you and ameera. ameera, who holds a look as if she's seen a ghost, turns to inform you. "sir zenin is the worst of gods, he's one of the cousins to his excellence toji."

"why are you both acting like death is at the door?" you question.

"he's probably here because he found out his cousin toji has a new little woman in his garden," mildred sighs, "ameera is too young, I am too old, and the nuns are out of question leaving you as the only viable source for any god to consider you."

"consider me for what, mildred?" suddenly, towering behind you three stands tall and for the first time you gulp, seeing a look in toji's eyes.

"mildred," he speaks, "what's going on?"

"your cousin, dear excellence." she slightly bows her head. "would you like me to fix him up a pla-"

"-that won't be necessary, mildred." toji sticks out and waves a gentle hand so as to be dismissive. "thank you." the three of you watch him walk forward, hands on the door handles. it is now when you notice the expanse of his back. muscles expand and contract. "I'll have you ladies stay in here and not interfere as I talk to my cousin, alright?" the three of you nod as he looks back at you three. with the open and close of a door, he's out. your heart suddenly pounds quickly, racing as you search for answers.

you're thankful for ameera as the two of you scram towards an opening she's called as 'discreet', unknown to those around the house. helping you up, the two of you sit and stand on a couple of wooden boxes, standing on your tip-toes as you turn your head and see toji conversing to a man who appears to be his opposite. regardless of them being cousins.

"that's naoya," ameera whispers, "lady mildred says he's infamous for stealing wives and women whenever and however he pleases." she says, "I'm not a woman, but mildred says toji meant for it that way so as to keep me safe." you catch into the innocence of her words, not knowing the full extent of what harm is, but knowing enough it is better to stay away.

"you think he wants to harm us?"

"Our excellence wouldn't allow it," answers ameera with assurance, "he's made things to ensure that, but since naoya shares a bloodline with him... it's not exactly easy keeping a god away from this place." she says.

the two of you watch. toji stands tall, with hands on either side of his hips as he makes naoya take a step back, but he persists, smiling and attempting to saunter his way inside.

"oh, is that really a way to greet your cosuin, toji?" naoya grins. "I thought we were family..."

"you know well why I departed from the family naoya. you out of everyone knows best our values don't align, so why return where you're not welcome?"

"you wound me cousin," he offers a dramatized sigh and look, "all I am is coming to see how my cousin is. heard so much about you and how you might have a little..."

"that's not true." toji pauses, giving the effect of sternness. "wherever you heard that, is false."

"mmm.... the family whom you got a certain pair of earrings said otherwise, cousin."

"what business have you meddling with humans now?"

"there's a village not far from there with a tribal leader who is causing disputes amongst the gods. something about a virgin disappearing into the woods. might know anything about it?"

toji huffs, "some nerve of you to think I spend my days following virgins. you forget I'm not like you, naoya. now, if that's all, you can make way for yourself, I have somewhere to go."

"you won't happen to have a virgin within these walls, now don't you?"

"it's disgusting how you keep bringing this up. all there is here are old maidens, girls, and nuns. you'd be wise to keep yourself out of here." ushering him out, naoya hums. "very well, but I'll keep an ear out if I hear anything." toji makes a noise.

"you do that, but it's best you stay out these waters, naoya. I have enough on my plate as it is."

nothing much happens other than short conversation. both you and ameera turn to look at one another and spill the information to lady mildred who only sighs, confirming the allegations of naoya.

later that day, toji alerts all of you to avoid hanging by the main entrance during certain hours of the day. just for a few days, he advises.

but you think there's something more to this when he comes back two days later with a bracelet in his hand. when you inquire, he says. "I want you to wear this at all times." a firmness to his voice makes you freeze, "I don't ever want you to leave this place," he says. "not without me."

[yazmarina]

in my drafts

for the love circuit series

—that message wasn't for you but paul doesn't mind as long as you don't, either.

paul aron (f2) x gn!social media admin reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex, lewd photography, office sex, fingering, creampie, accidental nude sending, mild dirty talk

a/n: sorry i disappeared again!!! pls take this as my apology

It was supposed to be just pictures of him during the break. You expected innocent, somewhat average snapshots of how Paul spent his past two months. You knew he took that trip to Italy, attended his sister's graduation, did some training. It was your job to be at least a little updated on the drivers' whereabouts, in case the head of comms needed you to capitalize on it for content.

So when you received a few photos from Paul through iMessage of all his fall whereabouts, you didn't think much of it. You messaged him a few days earlier asking if he could send a few more unreleased pictures that he hadn't posted on his personal account yet, stating that it was for a post you were putting together for the Hitech Instagram. He was delayed in his reply, as usual, but that's something you expected. He was busy, after all.

Perhaps too busy to notice the outlier in the stack of photos displayed in your message thread. Everything seemed to be normal at first; Italian architecture, gym photos, the cheesecake he made. Typical day in the life photos.

And lastly, a photo of him in dim lighting, taken in front of a mirror, with nothing but shadows covering most of his naked body.

You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Your first instinct is to wait to see if Paul has anything to say, an apology, maybe, or a half-assed excuse. Anything to indicate that he noticed how he sent you a full-on nude. You prepare yourself for the three dots that show he's typing, the frantic scramble to delete the photo from your exchange, but it never comes. Heat rises up your neck as you realize you're going to have to confront him about it. This was, after all, a professional exchange and you'd hate for HR to come knocking at either one of your doors.

-Paul, please review the photos you sent. Thanks.

You regret it as soon as you send it. Was that perhaps too snippy? Too callous? It was as embarrassing for him as it was for you, maybe even more. But come on, how hard is it to distinguish your nudes from your vacation photos?

The loud throb of your heartbeat reverberates in your ears as you wait, cursing under your breath as a full minute passes and then another. You lock your phone, getting up to pace around your room. You're most likely going to see him tomorrow as he'll be at HQ for sim work and other things and you just so happen to have a lineup of meetings at the very same time. You're going to have to face the fact that you'll have to look each other in the eye after you've seen the outline of his dick.

Wonderful.

You unlock your phone, resigning to just delete the photo from your side. You can claim plausible deniability or whatever legal term it is, if it comes down to it.

Just then, Paul starts typing.

You yelp, setting your phone down on the desk harder than intended.

You realize belatedly that you're holding your breath, fingers pressed into your mouth as if suppressing any more potential noises. He stops then starts again then stops, as if he's unsure of what he's typing out.

-I'M SO SORRY!!!! It was an accident I promise 🥹 Don't report me

-Please I'm so sorry it's totally my fault ______ 😭😭😭

-______ please I'm so sorry

Somehow, despite everything, this coaxes a chuckle out of you. Paul was always open and easy around you, and you know he knows you won't report him for an honest mistake. He's probably just red in the face right now, fighting his inner demons.

You type out a reply to ease his nerves.

-I'll just delete it off my phone so no one can say we were fraternizing inappropriately 🥲

The response from Paul is almost instant.

-YES please I'm sorry again

Your finger hovers over the photos when another message comes in.

-Unless you want to save it for a rainy day that's okay too

-I WAS JOKING its a joke I'm sorry I'm sorry

You groan, throwing your head back against the backrest of your office chair.

He's done this on occasion. Flirt. Compliment you on your hair, your outfit (despite it being the team uniform), your smile, even. You brushed it off as typical driver behavior. Nearly all of them had that kind of nerve about them, a confidence that only comes with driving cars that are closer to rockets than actual cars on the street.

Bringing the phone up to your face, you gingerly scroll back up to the photos Paul sent, opening the accursed photo. Your breath hitches as you take it in more carefully, the light cutting sharply between the shadows of whatever hotel room Paul was in. Your eyes trail down and your fingers pinch at the screen, zooming in.

"No! No, no, absolutely not," you admonish yourself, swiping the photo away and typing back a slightly crazed reply.

-Whoever that photo was meant for might not like it if I do

-

"________!"

You freeze on your way out the door from the conference room, Paul's figure jogging toward you from the other end of the hall. The presence of some execs and the head of comms looms from behind you and you quickly shuffle out of the way to let them pass, all of them greeting Paul as he sidles up to you.

"Hi!" You say a little too brightly, turning to Paul, arms coming up mechanically then stopping, your brain reminding you that a hug might be too awkward but standing around without greeting him in some way would be just as weird. A flurry of butterflies erupt in your stomach as Paul stops in front of you, his cologne coming off strong as always. Just the way you liked it.

"How's the meeting?" Paul asks, gesturing to the room. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he has that you've observed over the time you've worked with him. He has his hands shoved deep in his jeans, too.

You shrug, forcing out a laugh. "Same old, just going over social media plans and PR."

Paul nods, a little too eagerly perhaps. His eyes shift to the retreating personnel, all of them turning a corner, leaving you and Paul alone in the vicinity.

"Were you waiting for me?" You ask before he can say anything else.

Paul swallows. "Yeah. Look–"

"Paul," you cut him off, raising a hand between the two of you. "It's okay. It's no big deal. Happens to the best of us."

He raises an eyebrow at that. "Have you ever sent a nude to the wrong person before?"

Your cheeks flare up in a violent blush.

"Well, no. And keep your voice down," you berate lightly. Paul looks around and shrugs as if to say, 'Nobody's here'.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "But what I meant was, like, messages are sent to the wrong people all the time, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm, and besides, no one else knows. I promise I haven't told anyo–"

"Okay." It was Paul's turn to cut you off. "Okay, I believe you."

He smiles at you good-naturedly, opening his arms and coaxing you into a hug. It takes you a second, but eventually, you let yourself laugh in relief, wrapping your arms around his strong frame.

"I missed you over the break," Paul admits, pulling away and holding you at arm's length. You blush again, masking it with a chuckle.

"Well, the break isn't over yet. We still have three weeks to go," you remind, your own hands coming up to settle on Paul's outstretched arms, making it look as if you're holding him in place. To anyone who didn't know, you two would look like a couple deep in discussion.

"At least you get to see me more," Paul offers with an easy smile. nudging you lightly.

You scoff. "I think I've seen enough of you, thank you very much."

A heavy silence settles over the two of you as you realize what you just said. Paul lets his arms drop from where they held you, an apology ready at your lips but Paul gets to it first. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, blonde strands tugged between his fingers.

"You haven't deleted it, have you?"

No, you haven't.

"I was going to, but I got distracted with other things." Not entirely a lie. You really meant to do so, but thoughts you'd rather not share took hold and there were matters you needed to attend to. Matters that could only be solved with your fingers and a vibrator.

You should feel guilty, getting off to a picture of a coworker that wasn't even meant to be sent to you in the first place. Maybe you're terrible, maybe you should be fired, sued by the Aron family.

Memories of you gasping out Paul's name in the quiet of your room come flooding back and you pray that Paul doesn't notice the irregularity in your breathing.

"I'll delete it now, in front of you, so you can see that I did," you offer, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Paul shakes his head, catching you by the wrist, his hand large and warm against your own skin.

"I mean if I was going to send it to anyone, it would have been you," Paul says lowly, as if afraid someone would hear him, despite the entire expanse of the hallway void of any people other than yourselves.

"Consensually, of course," Paul adds in a hurry, eyes widening. "If you wanted to receive them. It. Receive it."

Your eyebrows shoot up, your mouth curling into a smirk. "You have more you want to send?"

Paul's lower lip slips between his teeth and it seems the two of you are finally on the same page. You try to suppress the smile threatening to break out, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes.

"Until when are you staying here?" You ask casually. You didn't mean 'here' as HQ. Here as in, in town, close to you.

"Next week," Paul replies, stepping closer. "I won't see you until Qatar after that."

"Shame," you mutter, tilting your head as you meet his gaze once more.

"Maybe," Paul begins, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together. "I can add one more thing to my break to-do list."

"Now?" You ask incredulously. Paul nods immediately.

"You know that one storage closet inside the sim room?" He asks, winking at you.

"What? Paul!" You whisper-shout, but he's already leading you down the hallway. The two of you make a sharp turn to the right where big blocky letters spell out 'SIMULATOR' on the large double doors of the sim room.

You squint, immediately plunged into darkness as the only source of light inside is the curved screen, dimmed as well as it sits on standby.

"What if your engineer walks in? Your teammate? Doesn't he have a session soon?" You continue to protest, even when Paul gently pushes you toward the storage room door at the very corner. He flings the door open and you see that it's filled mostly with spare sim components and monitors.

"Babe, that's why they call it a quickie," Paul reasons, flipping the light switch on inside. The lightbulb offers little respite in the darkness and shadows still play along the lines of Paul's face. He shuts the door behind him.

"It doesn't lock? Paul, I swear–"

You gasp but barely any sound comes out as Paul presses his lips to yours, hands settling on your hips. He maneuvers you toward a shelf, pushing you against it and pressing himself fully on you.

You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

"Did you like it?" Paul asks as he breaks away for a second. He kisses your jaw, tracing its outline as you sigh, your head falling back. He takes his opportunity to kiss along the column of your neck, his tongue smoothing over your skin.

"Did you get off to it?" Paul asks again and your breath catches in your throat. It's as if he knew all the dirty, deplorable things you did over that one picture.

"I know you did," Paul concludes with a breathy laugh, reclaiming your lips and driving a knee between your legs. You groan in response, grinding against his thigh while your fingers tug at his belt.

Paul pulls away and takes over for you, undoing his jeans and slipping them down to his knees. You silently thank whatever god is listening for the fact that you so conveniently decided to wear those easy cotton office pants, slipping them off in one quick swoop along with your underwear.

"I'm tempted to get on my knees right now so I can eat you out," Paul teases, hiking your shirt up and exposing your chest.

A snide remark forms in your brain but it's cut off when you feel the cold press of fingers on your clit. You clamp a hand down on your mouth as Paul gently flicks at it, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Maybe later after work," Paul says, rubbing harder. Your elbow spasms at the sensation, hitting the shelf behind you.

"Ow, fuck," you curse, meeting Paul's eyes. You two burst into muffled laughter just as Paul slips a finger in.

"What happened to a quickie?" You demand, hips moving along with Paul's hand. He adds a second finger and you whine, fingers digging into Paul's shoulders.

"I have manners," Paul informs with an easy smile, face impossibly close to yours. You can see the shift in his bright blue eyes. "I need you wet and ready for me, no?"

You bite down on your lip, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Paul curls his fingers inside you. A shiver runs through you and you feel yourself clenching down and around his digits.

Paul retracts his hand, much to your dismay, but you don't get to complain before Paul kisses you again, rough and heated. His tongue dances against yours and you grip at his Hitech team kit for purchase.

"Bend over," Paul commands and you're more than happy to oblige, turning around to do just that.

You brace yourself against the shelf behind you, gripping at the wood as you lower the front of your body. Paul grabs your hips and your back arches almost automatically. You can feel him pressing up against you and you sneak a peek behind you to see Paul with his phone in hand.

"So I can 'accidentally' send you another one," Paul jests before slowly sinking in. You whine, head dropping down between your shoulders. The thought of him documenting your little tryst sends a shiver up your spine which only intensifies as Paul grabs one side of your hips. He sets up a hard, steady pace that has the shelf in front of you creaking.

"Paul," you gasp out, your whole body shuddering at the force of how hard he's fucking you.

Both of his hands grip at your sides now so you can assume his phone has been put away. You try to stay upright which proves challenging considering Paul is ramming into you ferociously.

Contradictory to it all, you feel the soft touch of fingers through your scalp, smoothing over your hair. In a moment's turn, your head is yanked back as Paul tugs at your hair, arching your back even more.

A garbled sound escapes you, part moan, part sob as the sting in your scalp shoots straight down to your core, pushing you ever so closer to your release.

"The social media person," Paul begins through gritted teeth. "Always so pretty behind the camera. Making me do trend after trend. I'd do anything for you, baby."

You mewl in response, reaching back to grip at Paul's wrist, pushing back against him, urging him to go faster. Paul gets the memo.

"Funny how that photo was taken only because I was about to jack off to the thought of you," Paul continues. "You sent me a message and I was missing that pretty face of yours so I went through your Instagram. Looks like you had fun in Mallorca, tiny swimsuit and all."

"Sorry, baby," Paul says close to your ear. "Couldn't help it."

"Inside," you plead. "P-Please, I'm close. N-Need you to cum inside me."

Paul merely grunts, letting go of your hair so he can pull you flush against him. His thrusts grow erratic, barely pulling out of you each time. He pulls you back to him, your back against his front as he bites down on your shoulder.

"Yes, yes, right there." Your voice comes out raspy, walls squeezing around Paul's throbbing cock. He reaches over and resumes his movements from a while ago on your clit and you yelp, hips spasming pathetically.

You cum with Paul deep inside you, his groans filling your ear as he follows soon after. He stills and pulls you even closer to him, arms encircling your torso. He kisses the spot where he had bitten you, pressing his lips almost reverently to the indented skin.

You're both breathing hard and you're perfectly content to stand around while the two of you gather your bearings. But Paul momentarily disentangles himself from you and reaches down. You see him pull his phone out from his jeans from where they've presumably fallen down to his ankles.

"Smile," Paul prompts, his lips planting a soft kiss behind your ear as he angles the camera toward the two of you.

He snaps a blurry photo, just in time to capture your hand coming up to rest against his cheek as he grins into your skin. Emboldened by the somewhat artsy, flirtatious nature of the photo, you turn around and land a proper kiss on Paul's lips, savoring each second his tongue passes over your mouth.

"Send all the photos you want," you whisper, smiling up at him.

"Or we could just take them together," Paul offers, kissing the tip of your nose.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Blood (from nosebleed) Transcript / AN under the cut

AN: Please enjoy this sound effect in my head when Geoffrey got the daylights knocked out of him . / also, thought I’d have MM episode ready , but not quite! So here’s another Nancy update ✨

Transcript:

Nancy Narrating: [I fell asleep thinking about Vanessa. I woke up thinking about Vanessa. When I would see her again. What we would do that day. What new little thing I’d learn about her]

Cassie: Did you want to sit with me and Bobby and watch the match tonight? Bobby is bringing the snacks; he can bring your favorites too.

Nancy: No thanks. I’m going to go with Vanessa.

Nancy: What?

Cassie: You know my old roommate, Angela? She was pretty close to VV. She’s kind of the reason she left the school.

Nancy: So?

Cassie: Vanessa started being really mean to her. She made the other girls call her names; it was awful. I just don’t want that to happen to you. VV always seems sweet at first, but when she doesn’t get her way...

Nancy: [scoffs] You clearly don’t know her like I do. She’s my best friend. It may have been that way with other girls, but she cares about me.

Cassie: ...just be careful. If not for her, then definitely for Dina and Nina. I think they’re worst.

Nancy Narrating: [I didn’t expect anyone to understand the connection we shared. There wasn’t a single person in the world that loved Vanessa as much as I did]

Nancy: [panting] Where’s Vanessa? She wasn’t in class this morning and I’ve looked everywhere for her.

Dina: Damn. Hello to you too.

Nancy: Sorry- it’s just, we always walk to class together. I feel like I haven’t seen her all morning. I’ve probably been all over campus looking for her.

Dina: Uh-huh...

Nina: [mutters to Dina] See? [to Nancy] They did a room check and found her Playboys. Guess she sucks at hiding them. She’s getting chewed out for it. This is her like, third strike, they might call her dad.

Nancy Narrating: [Vanessa was constantly monitored by the teachers and church nuns, who were quick to report back to her father]

[Their most effective tool for discipline was shame]

Sister Agnes: How vile! Pornography? This is prohibited! Your father will surely not be pleased to hear about your actions, young lady.

Nancy Narrating: [Maybe that’s why she craved freedom as much as I did]

Sister Agnes: Is that what it will take for you to behave and carry yourself like a proper young lady? Will your father have to come pay you a visit?

Vanessa: [mutters] No, Sister Agnes. I will never do anything like this again. Please. Don’t call my father.

Dina: So, is your ass grass or what?

Nina: Yeah, did they bar you from going to the game?

Vanessa: Nope! Your girl is off the hook! I just have council with Father Mayhew for the next week but they’re not going to call my dad.

Nina: If anyone can weasel out of trouble, it’s you, VV.

Nancy: [sighs happily] That’s a relief.

Vanessa: Nothing will stop me from hanging out with my girls, right, Nance? Come on, let’s skip last period so we can get good seats for the game.

Vanessa: Don’t look, but is Corey Howard checking me out?

Nancy: Yeah. He can’t take his eyes off you.

Vanessa: Oh yeah? How’s my hair?

Nancy: It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Vanessa: Nancee [giggles] don’t make me blush! Cheer with me, okay?

Corey: Look alive, Osteer. The ladies are always watching.

Don: OSTEER! Look out!!

Corey: I’d die of embarrassment if it were me.

Don: [tsks] Nap time is over, princess. Hit the bench.

Nancy: You’re still so clumsy.

Geoffrey: Huh?

Nancy: Your dad threw a party once and you split your head open on the mantel. It was really disgusting.

Geoffrey: You... remember me?

Nancy: That was only 7 years ago. If either of us had amnesia, it would be you. Hold still.

Geoffrey: Well… I remember you used to cry when you got dirt in your sandals.

Nancy: What? [laughs] Did I really?

Geoffrey: [chuckles nervously] Yeah, it was kinda adorable. I mean-

Geoffrey: ...Y-you know, in a way…I guess.... um...

Vanessa: [sighs] This game is so boring, Nance. Want to get out of here?

Nancy: Of course. Wherever, whenever.

Vanessa: That’s my girl! Sorry about your face, Jeffrey.

Geoffrey: Actually, it’s Geoffrey! [sighs] ....nevermind..

Nina: I have an idea.

[chevyslate158]

Pleasantries of 'Love' 18+ (Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader) Chapter 1 - Gilded Beginnings

A/n: Hey everyone! First off, I want to apologise for taking so long to upload this chapter. I’ve been working on a bunch of drafts, so you’ll have plenty of content to enjoy over the holidays! 🎄✨ I promise I’ll be uploading them very soon, so stay tuned!

I hope you enjoy this chapter of Pleasantries of 'Love' and I’m looking forward to sharing the next one with you all. 😌💖 Also, I’ll be uploading a finished draft of a short story featuring Coriolanus either tonight or tomorrow (you’re not gonna want to miss it!). 📖✨ As for Threads of Freedom, the next chapter will be up later this week, along with many more updates! 😍

Thanks for your patience, and I can’t wait to hear what you think! 💕

Word Count: 6.7k words Warnings: Power Imbalance, fixation, manipulation, obsession themes, social pressure, unrequited affection, control, age gap, gendered expectation, objectification, traditional expectations, coercion, underlying threat, unhealthy relationship dynamics (Coriolanus and Reader), eventual smut and eventual arranged marriage

The gilded ballroom brimmed with grandeur, its opulence almost overwhelming. Y/n stood near the edge of the crowd, marvelling at the way the crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars. Her breath hitched slightly, her nerves fluttering as the hum of conversation rose and fell around her. The string quartet’s melody soothed her, and she clasped her hands tightly to steady herself, her soft blush gown swaying gently with her every movement. She adored how the dress reminded her of spring blossoms, modest yet quietly radiant, like the life she lived.

Her eyes scanned the room, widening slightly at the decadent displays of wealth: trays of delicacies she had never seen before, diamonds glittering on throats, wrists and ears. A warm smile touched her lips when someone greeted her, and though their words often carried subtle barbs, she responded with kindness nonetheless. Politics and power games weren’t her nature; instead, she revelled in small, sincere exchanges. That is why she had such a small group of friends. Her upbringing had taught her the strength of humility and the beauty of honesty, even in a room filled with the opposite.

Y/n’s family lingered nearby, her father standing protectively at her side while her mother and young sister basked in the excitement of the evening. Her two closest friends, Clara and Rose, whispered animatedly about the attendees, their eyes sparkling as they tried to guess who wore which designer dress or who was the cutest couple at the event. Y/n giggled softly at their speculations, feeling a surge of gratitude for their company.

Rose twirled a lock of her auburn hair around her finger, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “Clara and I have decided we’re going to rank the best-dressed couples here tonight. Starting with them.” She tilted her head toward a striking pair near the centre of the room, their coordinated gold and ivory ensembles gleaming under the chandelier light.

Clara scoffed playfully. “Oh, please. They’re trying too hard. Look at her necklace—three layers of diamonds? Overkill!” She pointed subtly with her glass of sparkling cider. “Now, they,” she gestured to another couple near the banquet table, “look perfect. That midnight blue suit with her silver gown? Subtle and classy. No one’s outshining the other.”

Y/n chuckled softly at their analysis, letting their animated chatter ease her nerves. “I’m impressed you two know so much about Capitol fashion. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea who designed what.”

“That’s why you’ve got us,” Rose quipped, nudging Y/n again. “We’ll make sure you’re the best-dressed at every event from now on.” She paused, glancing toward a group of sharply dressed young men by the bar. “Speaking of, is it just me, or are we getting a lot of looks tonight?”

Clara smirked, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. “You’re not imagining it. I caught at least two of them glancing our way just now. Maybe they’ve never seen real beauty before.”

Y/n rolled her eyes with a laugh. “You two are ridiculous. They’re probably just wondering why we’re hovering by the wall like shy schoolgirls.”

Rose gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I’m surveying the room. It’s called being strategic.” She turned toward Y/N with a sly grin. “And besides, you should be flattered. Half the men in here can’t take their eyes off you. Including, might I add, a certain very important man.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed immediately. “Stop it,” she protested, shaking her head. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Rose teased, her voice sing-song. “He’s looking again. Right now.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered as Clara leaned in conspiratorially. “You should practice your curtsy. Who knows, you might end the night with a dance from President Snow himself.”

“I’ll do no such thing!” Y/n whispered back, mortified, though her friends’ laughter made it impossible to stay annoyed. They teased her mercilessly, but the warmth of their camaraderie eased the tension in her chest. For a moment, she allowed herself to giggle along with them, the weight of the evening forgotten—until the thought of his piercing blue eyes lingered just a little too long in her mind.

Y/n’s laughter faded as curiosity tugged at her brows furrowing ever so slightly. Was he truly looking at me? Gathering what little courage she could muster, she dared to glance in his apparent direction. Her breath caught in her throat the moment her eyes found him. President Snow stood near a marble column, a glass of deep red wine cradled effortlessly in one hand. The tailored crimson suit he wore seemed to command the attention of the room, the deep hue a stark contrast to his fair complexion and icy blue eyes. The jacket’s sharp lapels framed his broad shoulders, his polished appearance exuding an air of quiet authority that made her stomach flutter.

His features were a study in precision—strong, angular, and utterly unreadable. The slightest tilt of his head and the glint in his eye gave him an edge of mystery, as though he were privy to secrets the rest of the world would never uncover. He sipped his wine slowly, his gaze steady, and Y/N’s cheeks burned when she realised those piercing blue eyes were locked on hers once again.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. The noise of the ballroom faded into a distant hum, and all she could feel was the erratic rhythm of her heart as it skipped a beat, then another. His stare was unrelenting, both chilling and thrilling in its intensity. It was as though he could see straight through her, past her composed exterior, to the nervous energy buzzing beneath her skin.

She quickly looked away, her fingers tightening their grip on the folds of her dress. Butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach, and her thoughts became a tangle of confusion and exhilaration. What was it about his gaze that made her feel both exposed and significant all at once? She hadn’t even spoken a word to him, yet somehow, she felt as though he had marked her as someone worth noticing.

Clara’s voice pulled Y/N from her daze, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “You’ve gone quiet. Let me guess—you’ve been captivated by someone across the room?”

Y/n blinked, trying to compose herself, but her thoughts were still tangled with the image of him—the sharp angles of his face, the commanding presence he exuded, and the way his icy blue eyes had held hers with such certainty. Her heart fluttered wildly, betraying her previously composed exterior. “I’m just… lost in thought,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual.

Rose, ever perceptive, wasn’t convinced. “Lost in thought? Or lost in someone?” she teased, her grin widening as she glanced knowingly in the direction Y/n had dared to look. “Don’t deny it—you’ve been sneaking glances at him.”

Y/n’s cheeks burned, and she clutched the fabric of her gown tightly to steady and ground herself. 

“That’s not true,” she whispered, though the heat rising to her face and the erratic rhythm of her heart told a different story. She couldn’t admit it—not to herself, not to anyone—but the way his eyes had lingered on her made her feel seen in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Despite her original protest, curiosity got the better of her once more, and she found herself stealing another glance. Her heart nearly stopped when she caught him watching her again, his gaze steady and unrelenting. He raised his glass ever so slightly, the faintest smirk curling at the corner of his lips, as though he knew the effect he had on her.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air heavier as though the wind was knocked out of her. Oh, dear God. Y/n’s thoughts spiralled as she quickly averted her gaze, her heart leaping to her throat. A rush of warmth spread across her cheeks, and her pulse thundered in her ears, betraying the composure she struggled to maintain.

Why does he keep looking at me? She wondered, her mind a whirlwind of nerves and wonder. She barely registered her friends’ continued chatter as her thoughts spiralled. Had she imagined the subtle acknowledgement? Or was it real?

Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them together one over the other, her friends’ laughter blending into the background. She tried to calm the butterflies fluttering wildly in her chest, but her gaze kept drifting back to him, as though pulled by some invisible force.

The night passed in a whirlwind of introductions and pleasantries, her family eager to acquaint her with men her age. Her father, ever watchful, took it upon himself to steer her toward eligible bachelors, each introduction feeling more forced than the last. One was the son of a wealthy politician, another the heir to an influential Capitol family. Y/N smiled politely, exchanged the expected small talk, and nodded at all the right moments, but her heart wasn’t in it. The son of the wealthy politician was tall but slender, with soft brown hair that fell just above his ears, and wide, nervous emerald green eyes that never quite met hers. His clothes were well-tailored, though his fidgeting hands betrayed his shyness shifting from foot to foot, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment clearly aware that his father was trying to attempt to set him up.

“Y/n,” the young man began hesitantly, his voice soft and uneven as though it might crack at any moment. “It’s… it’s been a long time since we’ve talked. You look—uh—nice tonight.” His emerald eyes darted to hers briefly before dropping back to the floor.

“Thank you, Theodore,” Y/n replied with a kind smile, her tone gentle. She remembered him well enough—Theodore Alden, the quiet boy from her school years, always sitting at the back of the classroom with his head buried in books. “It’s good to see you again. You’ve done well for yourself, I hear.”

He flushed deeper, tugging nervously at his cuffs. “Oh, I… I don’t know about that. My father likes to, um, exaggerate.” He glanced toward where his father stood a few feet away, watching them with an encouraging but overbearing smile. “I just… I wanted to say, I always admired you. You were always so kind… and graceful.”

Y/n blinked in surprise at his honesty, a warmth rising in her chest at his sincerity. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Theodore. I’ve always thought highly of you as well.”

His gaze lifted for a moment, meeting hers fully for the first time, and a tentative smile formed on his lips revealing small dimples. “You have?”

“Of course,” she said with a small laugh, trying to put him at ease. “You’ve always been intelligent and thoughtful. That’s something to be proud of.”

Before he could respond, her friends’ laughter rang out behind her, drawing her attention. She turned back to Theodore with an apologetic smile. “I should rejoin my friends. But it was lovely to speak with you again.”

“Y-yes, of course,” Theodore stammered, stepping back awkwardly accidentally bumping into a waiter in the process causing him to hastily apologise to the waiter before turning back to face you with an awkward smile on his face with his cheeks flushed. “Thank you for… for talking with me.”

As Y/n walked away, she felt a pang of guilt for leaving so quickly, but she felt as though the conversation had run its course. Glancing back once, she saw him watching her retreat with a wistful expression, his shoulders slumped slightly as though regretting he hadn’t said more.

As Y/n approached her friends, Rose and Clara exchanged knowing looks, their smiles already brimming with mischief. The moment she rejoined them, they pounced.

“Well, well,” Rose said with an exaggerated smirk, crossing her arms. “What was that all about? You and Theodore looked pretty cozy over there.”

Clara gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Don’t tell me the shy boy finally worked up the nerve to talk to you! Did he confess his undying love? Write a sonnet on the spot?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We were just catching up. It’s been years since I’ve spoken to him.”

“‘Just catching up,’” Rose echoed, mimicking Y/n’s soft tone. “Is that what you call it when a man can barely breathe around you? He looked like he was about to faint, Y/n.”

Clara giggled, leaning closer. “He’s had a thing for you since, what, first year of high school? Honestly, I think it’s adorable. The way he couldn’t stop fidgeting—poor thing was terrified of saying the wrong thing.”

“Terrified because Rose wouldn’t stop glaring at him from across the room,” Y/n shot back, giving her friend a playful nudge.

Rose held up her hands in mock innocence. “Hey, I was just trying to make sure he knew he had to impress you. Besides, he’s not really your type, is he?”

“And what exactly is my type?” Y/n asked, arching an eyebrow.

Rose and Clara exchanged another look before bursting into laughter. “Well definitely not shy, blushing bookworms,” Clara teased.

Y/n shook her head, laughing despite herself.

“Oh, come on,” Rose said, looping her arm through Y/n’s as they walked further into the ballroom. “Admit it, it was sweet. He couldn’t stop looking at you, and you can’t tell me you didn’t feel even a little flattered.”

Y/n sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Clara grinned, nudging her gently. “Whatever you say, Y/n. Just remember, if you ever do need a shy, adorable politician’s son in your life, you’ve already got one wrapped around your finger.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, the faint blush on her cheeks betraying her exasperation. “You two are impossible,” she muttered bashfully under her breath, though their teasing drew a small, reluctant smile.

Rose suddenly gasped, her eyes lighting up with mock realization. “Oh, right! How could I forget? You weren’t exactly paying attention to poor Theodore, were you? Not when you were giving heart eyes to the president earlier.”

Clara burst into laughter, clutching her side. “She’s right! Y/n, you practically melted on the spot. I’ve never seen you blush that much in my life. Should we curtsy every time we walk by you now? Future First Lady and all?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, her face flushing as she waved them off. “I was not giving him heart eyes! Stop it, people will hear you!”

Rose smirked, tapping her chin dramatically. “Oh, you weren’t? Because I’m pretty sure he was looking at you, too.”

Clara nudged Y/n with her elbow. “Come on, admit it. Just for us. You felt something, didn’t you?”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands as her friends giggled uncontrollably. 

Yet even as she humoured with her friends on her family’s previous attempts to match her with Capitol’s finest, her gaze kept drifting across the room. No matter where she was or whom she spoke to, her eyes sought him out, as if drawn by some invisible force. Each time she looked, he was closer than the last time.

Coriolanus Snow moved with calculated ease, weaving through clusters of politicians and dignitaries with his effortless charm. His crimson suit was impossible to miss, and neither was the way he glanced in her direction, his gaze lingering just long enough to send her heart into overdrive. His every move seemed casual, but Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that he was purposefully closing the distance between them.

Her pulse quickened as she realised he was nearing her side of the room, his slow but deliberate path bringing him closer with each passing moment. He stopped to exchange a few words with a senator, then moved on to greet a wealthy benefactor, all while subtly inching toward her. Each glance, each small shift, made her chest tighten with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Y/n, are you even listening?” her mother’s voice broke through her thoughts gently tugging her away from her friends and close to her side so she could join in on the conversation. “Lord Albright was just telling us about his family’s estate outside the Capitol.”

“Oh,” she said quickly, forcing her attention back to the conversation. “That sounds lovely.”

But her distraction didn’t go unnoticed. Rose stifled a laugh, her eyes flicking knowingly toward where the young president stood. “You’ve been staring all night stop being so obvious,” she teased in a low voice. “He’s going to think you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not—” Y/n began, but her words caught in her throat as her gaze unintentionally flicked back toward him. This time, their eyes met again, and her breath hitched. He was only a few paces away now, his sharp features illuminated under the golden light of the chandeliers. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the deliberate way he was closing the gap.

Just as the moment felt unbearably intense, her father spoke up. “It’s getting late. We should head home before the streets grow too busy.”

Y/n’s stomach dropped. “Already?” she asked, a hint of reluctance slipping into her tone.

Her mother gave her a gentle smile, guiding her toward the exit. “It’s been a long evening, dear. You’ll have other chances to socialise.”

As they made their way toward the grand doors, Y/n couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder one last time. Snow was standing where she’d last seen him, his piercing gaze following her departure. There was something in his expression—calculated, almost possessive—that sent a shiver down her spine.

She tore her eyes away, her heart pounding as she stepped out into the cool night air. Even as the carriage pulled away, the image of him lingered, etched into her mind like an indelible mark she couldn’t shake. Deep down she had a gut feeling this wouldn't be the last time she saw President Snow.

-Two days after the grand event- Y/n found herself seated at the dining table with her family. The cozy glow of the chandelier illuminated the room, filling it with warmth as the evening meal unfolded. Plates clinked softly, and light chatter wove through the air, her parents and siblings discussing the usual topics of the day.

It was then the soft knock came at the door. A courier, dressed sharply in Capitol livery, handed a small, elegant envelope to their housekeeper. The sealed parchment bore the unmistakable crest of the President. Y/n's heart fluttered at the sight of it as it was carefully placed in her hands.

“Who could that be from?” her mother asked, her curiosity barely contained.

“I have no idea,” Y/n murmured, her fingers trembling as she broke the seal. Her family’s conversation fell into a hushed silence, all eyes now on her as she carefully unfolded the letter.

As her gaze swept across the elegant script, her breath hitched. She could barely process the words, the formal tone, or the undeniable authority that each sentence carried. When she reached the end of the letter, her cheeks were flushed, her mind whirling with the weight of the invitation. -Start Of Letter-

The Capitol, Office of the President, Panem,

Dearest Y/n Y/l/n

I hope this letter finds you well. Allow me to formally introduce myself: I am Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem, though I suspect you may already know of me. Yet, in turn, I must admit I knew little of you until recently when fate allowed our paths to cross. At my recent formal event, amidst a sea of notable guests, it was you who caught my eye. There was a quiet grace in your demeanour, an elegance that demanded notice yet sought none. Intrigued, I found myself wanting to learn more about the person who carried such an air of distinction.

As a man who values intelligence, poise, and refinement, I feel compelled to extend an invitation for us to become better acquainted. It is rare for someone to leave such an impression, and rarer still for me to act upon it. However, I find myself intrigued by the possibilities that may arise from our acquaintance. To that end, I would be honoured if you would join me for an intimate dinner at Le Marbre Étoilé this Friday evening at 8 o’clock for I have already taken the liberty of reserving a table. The setting is one of the finest in the Capitol, offering an atmosphere befitting such an esteemed guest as yourself. 

While I understand the obligations of daily life can sometimes interfere with such invitations, I must stress the significance of this occasion. My schedule, as I am sure you can appreciate, is relentlessly occupied, leaving little room for rescheduling. I trust you will recognise the importance of seizing this opportunity and make the necessary adjustments to your own commitments. You are, of course, free to decline. However, I would hope such a decision is carefully considered, for an audience with the President is a privilege not lightly afforded.

I eagerly await your company and trust you will honour my invitation with your presence.

Until we meet, I remain yours with the utmost anticipation.

Warm regards, Coriolanus Snow President of Panem

-End of letter-

“What does it say?” her father pressed, leaning forward with a look of concern.

“It’s…” Y/n hesitated, still struggling to believe it herself. “It’s from President Snow.” Her voice was quiet, yet it seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “He… He’s invited me to dinner. This Friday.”

A moment of stunned silence followed before her mother clasped her hands together. “President Snow? Invited you personally? How extraordinary!”

Her father frowned slightly, his protective nature stirring. “Why would the President take such an interest in you, Y/n?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “He said he noticed me at the event and wanted to become better acquainted. He’s already made arrangements for dinner at Le Marbre Étoilé.”

Her mother’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Le Marbre Étoilé! It’s the finest establishment in the Capitol. What an incredible honour!”

Her father rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It is unusual, but… he is the President. It wouldn’t be wise to decline.”

Her younger sister giggled, teasing. “Looks like someone caught the eye of Panem’s most powerful man.”

“Enough,” her father said firmly, though a trace of pride crept into his tone. “Y/n, you’ll go. You’ll represent our family with dignity and respect.”

“But…” Y/n faltered. “What if I embarrass myself? What if I’m not what he expects?”

Her mother placed a gentle hand on hers. “You’re everything he could expect and more, darling. Be yourself—your grace and poise will do the rest.”

Y/n looked at each of her family members in turn, feeling a mix of trepidation and resolve. The weight of the invitation was heavy, but their encouragement wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

Finally, she nodded, a small but determined smile breaking through her nerves. “I’ll go,” she said softly. “I’ll make sure I don’t let any of you down.”

Her family’s approval bolstered her spirits, but as she folded the letter and set it beside her plate, her thoughts drifted back to the man who had written it. President Snow—a name so synonymous with power and control. She wondered, for the briefest moment, what kind of man she would truly meet that Friday night. -Friday-

Friday evening arrived faster than Y/n anticipated, bringing with it a flurry of nerves and excitement. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange, while the glow of Capitol lights began to twinkle in the distance.

Her bedroom was a whirlwind of fabrics and accessories as her mother and younger sister fussed over her, each determined to ensure she looked perfect for the evening ahead. A soft gown of midnight blue had been chosen—a colour that complimented her complexion and highlighted the delicate curves and frame of her body. The fabric shimmered faintly under the light, subtle yet captivating, with a neckline that was modest but elegant it dipped just low enough to catch the eye but not enough to be deemed scandalous, with the dress flowing gracefully to the floor.

“Hold still, darling,” her mother instructed, carefully fastening the clasp of an understated pearl necklace around Y/n’s neck. “You look exquisite. Truly, like a vision.”

Her younger sister grinned, hands busy smoothing the delicate folds of the gown making sure there was not a single crease. “You’re going to leave everyone speechless, especially the president.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed at the mention of President Snow, her stomach twisting with nerves. “Do you think this is too much?” she asked, glancing at her reflection in the mirror.

“Not at all,” her mother reassured her, brushing a few stray hairs back into the intricate updo they had styled. “It’s elegant. Sophisticated. Exactly the impression you want to leave.”

Her sister couldn’t resist teasing. “You’re going to make every woman in that restaurant jealous, Y/n. But don’t forget—he’s the one who invited you. That says everything.”

Y/n managed a small smile, though her heart still raced. The weight of the invitation and the significance of the evening felt almost overwhelming. Yet, beneath the nerves was a flicker of curiosity, a quiet wonder at what awaited her.

Once her hair was set, her makeup applied with a light and delicate touch, and the finishing details of her ensemble in place, her mother stepped back to admire her work. “Perfect,” she declared with a smile of pride. “Absolutely perfect.”

Y/n turned to the mirror, studying her reflection. For the first time that evening, she allowed herself to feel a sliver of confidence. She had to admit, she did look elegant, the kind of elegance she imagined would be expected of someone dining with the President.

Her father appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of protectiveness and awe. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft. “Are you ready?”

Y/n took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of her gown with trembling hands. “I think so,” she said quietly.

Her mother gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders. “You’ll do wonderfully, darling. Remember, just be yourself.”

As she descended the staircase to the waiting car, her family’s encouraging smiles lingered in her mind. Though the thought of meeting President Snow still made her heart race, Y/n was determined to carry herself with grace and dignity, no matter what the evening held.

The soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the manor living room marked each passing moment as Y/n sat with her family, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her midnight blue gown cascading elegantly to the floor. Her father paced near the window peeking out discreetly every so often, his stern expression masking the nervous energy he exuded. Her mother, ever composed, sat gracefully beside Y/n, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. Beside her, Y/n’s younger sister fidgeted, her excitement barely contained as she sat perched on the arm of the couch. “I’m sure he’ll be here any moment,” her mother said, glancing at the ornate clock above the mantle. Her tone was calm, but the glimmer of pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Do you think he’ll actually come to the door?” her sister asked, her wide eyes alight with curiosity. “Or will the driver just honk and wait outside?”

Her father shot her a look. “A man in his position would do well to show proper respect.” Her father stood near the window, peeking out and looking to see if the president had arrived yet. He turned to Y/n, his gaze softening. “Remember, this is just a dinner, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a mix of encouragement and caution. “Be polite, but don’t let anyone make you feel uncomfortable.” Y/n nodded, her heart pounding against her ribs. The weight of the evening ahead pressed down on her, but she met her father’s gaze with quiet determination.

The sound of an approaching vehicle, smooth and unmistakable, silenced the room. Y/N’s heart skipped as the sleek black Capitol limo came into view, its polished surface gleaming under the glow of the estate’s exterior lights. The car rolled to a stop in front of the manor, and after a moment, the door opened.

Coriolanus Snow emerged with the kind of poise that commanded attention. Dressed in a tailored black suit with crimson accents—a subtle yet striking statement of power—he exuded confidence. In his hand, he carried a single white rose. He paused briefly, adjusting his coat, before making his way up the stone steps to the front door.

The knock that followed echoed through the room, sharp and deliberate. Y/n’s father straightened, crossing the room to answer. When he opened the door, Coriolanus greeted him with a polite, disarming smile, his icy blue eyes betraying nothing of his true intentions.

“Good evening, Mr. Y/l/n,” he said smoothly, his voice like silk. “I am Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem. Thank you for allowing me the honour of escorting your daughter this evening.”

Y/n’s father hesitated, sizing him up for a moment before stepping aside. “President Snow,” he said, his tone cautious yet respectful. “Welcome to our home. Please, come in.”

Coriolanus stepped inside, his sharp features framed by the soft glow of the chandelier overhead. His gaze swept the room briefly before settling on Y/N, who had risen from her seat, her composure steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted, inclining his head with a practised air of courtesy. “You look radiant this evening.”

“Thank you, President Snow,” Y/n replied softly, curtsying slightly, her voice steady even as her heart raced.

With a small, calculated smile, he extended the white rose to her. “A token for a memorable evening,” he said, his tone gentle, though his eyes gleamed with something more inscrutable.

Y/n accepted the rose with both hands, her fingers brushing the delicate petals. Before she could respond, he snapped the stem cleanly, leaving the flower intact. Leaning forward, he gently tucked it behind her ear, his touch light but deliberate.

“There,” he said, his voice low, almost intimate. “Perfect.”

Her family watched the exchange in silence, yet her mother beamed at the exchange while her sister barely stifled an excited squeal. The weight of the moment was heavy in the room. With an air of finality, Coriolanus stepped back, offering his arm to Y/n. “Shall we?”

Y/n glanced at her parents, who both gave small, reassuring nods. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand lightly on his arm. 

Just as he guided her toward the door Snow turned back to her father, his tone unwavering as they were about to exit the front door of their manor. “I assure you, Mr. Y/l/n, your daughter will be in the utmost care this evening. I deeply value the trust you’ve extended to me.”

Though Y/n’s father maintained his reserved composure, he gave a measured nod. “See that you do.”

The sleek black limousine gleamed under the streetlights as Coriolanus Snow held the door open for Y/n. His movements were precise, every action exuding an air of control and authority. Y/n hesitated for the briefest moment, casting a glance back at her family standing in the doorway of the manor before stepping inside the luxurious vehicle.

The interior of the limo was nothing short of breathtaking, a haven of understated opulence. The soft leather seats were impeccably stitched, their deep, rich hue complementing the gleaming mahogany panelling that lined the walls. The subtle glow of warm, recessed lighting cast a golden hue over the space, illuminating the fine crystal decanters that held Capitol's most exclusive vintages in a small, built-in bar.

The faint aroma of expensive cologne mingled with the delicate scent of fresh roses arranged in an understated vase near the side panel. Every detail spoke of wealth and precision, from the velvet-lined armrests to the silent hum of the temperature-controlled environment.

Snow followed closely, settling into the seat beside her with a measured grace. His movements were deliberate, exuding an air of calm control as he adjusted his position. His tailored suit caught the light subtly, the fabric hinting at its impeccable craftsmanship, while his piercing gaze swept the cabin briefly before returning to her, his presence filling the intimate space effortlessly.

As the car began to move, the city lights of the Capitol streamed past the tinted windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours that danced across the sleek interior. The glow of neon signs illuminated towering buildings, their facades adorned with holographic advertisements that shimmered like liquid gold. Streets were alive with motion, a symphony of luxury vehicles gliding past pedestrians dressed in extravagant finery.

Capitol elites wandered the bustling avenues, their laughter and animated conversations spilling into the night air. Women adorned in opulent gowns, encrusted with gemstones that caught the light, strolled arm-in-arm with men in tailored suits boasting rich, exotic fabrics. Groups lingered near gilded restaurant entrances, their expressions a mix of idle amusement and carefully practised airs of superiority, waiting to enter establishments where chandeliers glittered like starlight through tall windows.

The gentle hum of the engine was the only sound for a moment before Snow broke the silence.

“I trust your family approves of our outing this evening,” he said, his tone conversational but with an undertone of authority.

“They were… a bit surprised by your invitation, Mr. President,” Y/n replied, her voice soft and almost hesitant, her gaze flickering to meet his before dropping again.

“Coriolanus,” he corrected smoothly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “There’s no need for formality between us tonight.”

Y/n nodded, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The grandeur of the Capitol outside the window was both mesmerising and intimidating, but she focused on maintaining her composure.

After a short ride, the limousine pulled up in front of Le Marbre Étoilé, the Capitol's most exclusive dining establishment. The grand facade of the restaurant was illuminated with golden lights, its towering columns and intricate marble carvings radiating opulence. A valet immediately stepped forward to open the door, bowing slightly as Coriolanus exited the vehicle.

He turned to offer Y/n his hand, his gaze unwavering as she placed her fingers lightly in his. His palm was cool but firm, his grip tightening around hers with a subtle yet possessive strength. “Welcome to Le Marbre Étoilé,” he said, his voice carrying a note of pride, each word measured and deliberate. His touch lingered as if to ground her amidst the overwhelming grandeur surrounding them, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers, commanding her full attention.

The restaurant’s entrance opened to reveal a grand lobby adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, and towering arrangements of fresh roses. The murmured conversations of the Capitol elite filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of a string quartet playing in the corner.

Snow placed a hand lightly on the small of Y/n’s back, guiding her through the crowd. Heads turned subtly as they passed, whispers rippling in their wake. Y/n couldn’t help but feel the weight of every gaze, but Snow walked with an unbothered confidence, as though the entire evening had been orchestrated solely for them.

A maître d’ appeared, bowing deeply. “Mr. President, your table is ready,” he announced, gesturing toward a private section of the restaurant.

“Excellent,” Snow replied, his tone clipped but polite. He glanced at Y/n, his icy blue eyes momentarily softening. “Shall we?”

Y/n nodded, allowing herself to be led further into the gilded halls of Le Marbre Étoilé, the quiet elegance of the setting only heightening her sense of anticipation.

The dinner began with a glass of sparkling Capitol wine, its bubbles shimmering like liquid gold in the crystal flutes. Y/n’s fingers trembled slightly as she lifted the glass, stealing a glance at Snow from beneath her lashes. His every movement was deliberate, and precise, from the way he swirled the wine in his glass to the subtle tilt of his head as he observed her.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked, breaking the silence that had settled over their secluded corner of the grand restaurant.

Y/n’s cheeks warmed, and she placed the glass back onto the table with care. “I suppose I’m not used to being in places like this,” she admitted, her voice soft.

Snow leaned forward slightly, the flickering candlelight casting sharp shadows over his features. “And yet, you carry yourself as though you belong here,” he said, his tone almost disarming. “Your poise betrays any claim of unfamiliarity.”

Y/n glanced down at her plate, feeling the weight of his words. “That’s kind of you to say, Mr. President.”

“Coriolanus,” he corrected smoothly once again. “You’ll find I prefer a more personal approach during private engagements.”

She nodded, her lips curving into a faint, polite smile, though she didn’t trust herself to speak again just yet. Her shyness was a strange comfort in this setting; it shielded her from the vulnerability of meeting his gaze too often.

The meal was a parade of Capitol extravagant appetisers of delicately arranged seafood, main courses of tender meat paired with rare vegetables, and desserts that looked more like works of art than food. Each dish was introduced with an air of reverence by the maître d’, and while Y/n appreciated the effort, she found herself more focused on the man seated across from her.

“Do you often dine with guests in such an... exclusive setting?” she asked cautiously, breaking the silence as she carefully cut into her entrée.

Snow’s lips twitched into what could only be described as a shadow of a smile. “Rarely,” he admitted, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers. “I value my time too greatly to squander it on idle company. This, however...” He paused, lifting his glass in a subtle gesture toward her. “This is a notable exception.”

Her heart fluttered, and she quickly dropped her gaze, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. “That’s... flattering,” she murmured, fumbling for the right words.

“You’re being modest again,” he replied, his tone gentler than she expected. “I find it refreshing, truthfully. The Capitol is so often a place of excess, of posturing. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t demand to be noticed but commands attention nonetheless.”

The compliment left her breathless, and she focused on her plate, her appetite fading as nervous energy took its place. “I’m not sure I deserve such praise,” she said finally, daring a glance at him.

Snow set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, studying her with a piercing intensity. “That humility is precisely what makes you deserving,” he said quietly, as though it were an irrefutable fact.

For a moment, the room seemed smaller, the grand space folding in on itself until it was just the two of them. The orchestra’s music faded into the background and the clink of glasses and murmured conversation from the other diners echoed a distant hum.

Y/n took a small sip of her wine, her fingers gripping the glass tightly as she tried to steady her nerves. There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her—not unkind, but calculated, as though he were peeling back her layers and uncovering secrets even she didn’t know she had.

“You’re quiet again,” he observed, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

She managed a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I suppose I’m still not used to this.”

“Then allow me to make you more comfortable,” he said smoothly, raising his glass. “To new beginnings, Y/n.”

She hesitated before lifting her glass to meet his, her smile tentative. “To new beginnings.”

As their glasses clinked softly, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner was more than just a meal. It felt like the start of something she couldn’t quite name—something thrilling, terrifying, and inescapable.

[peachhcs]

the draft & the night everything changed

hughes!sister x will smith au

the night samy and will finally realize they both have feelings for one another at the nhl draft in nashville.

1.7k words

for the first real fic i’m starting with the draft which basically started samy & will’s relationship! the confessions will be its own separate post & again i’m open to asks and things you guys wanna see in this au! :)

au masterlist | part 2

with all the press and interviews, samy hardly got to see will or any of the boys before the draft. she sat with her family in their hotel room as all of them got ready for the very special and exciting night. will would periodically text her updates about everything he was doing making the brunette smile each time her phone buzzed on the table.

she smiled seeing a picture will sent dressed in his suit almost ready to head out into the seats. she loved the navy and pink combination—also loving that he took her suggestions when he sent her choices a few months back. samy quickly snapped a photo back of her own dress she was wearing. it was a simple pink and black with a small opening across her midsection. she wasn't sure if it was too little for what seemed like such a classy event, but grace quickly reassured her that she looked perfect.

her entire family experienced the draft three times already, so they knew what was coming and what to expect, but samy couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach for her best friend about to get picked in the first round tonight. will was one of the best players in this draft class and even though she's hardly seen him since they got to nashville, she knew he was feeling all of the emotions.

her phone buzzed again meaning will texted her back.

will

wow you look gorgeous

his text immediately caused a blush across samy's cheeks. her head spun around making sure none of her family saw her red face before quickly sending a text back.

samy

i'll see you out there :)

the nauseating feeling in samy's stomach had been there for days. anytime she thought about will, her heart raced. she started getting excited anytime her phone buzzed hoping it was her best friend texting her back. it was..it was a weird feeling. she's never felt that way whenever will texted. at least not since the beginning of april. she didn't know what it meant nor did she really want to know because maybe deep down, she did know.

after another ten minutes, samy followed her family into the arena. there was so many people pushing past them trying to find their seats or quickly interview the draft prospects before they got seated. mrs. hughes led the way in attempt to find anyone they were sitting with. samy's stomach was doing flips with the amount of people shoving and pushing past her. she knew the draft always went crazy, but she forgot just how crazy it really was. luke's draft in the comfort of their own home two years ago was much better than the chaos inside the arena.

"samy!" someone called her name. the girl quickly spun around trying to find the source when she saw gabe's tall figure waving his hands at her. she tugged on her parents' arms and motioned towards him.

he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the family. samy was immediately brought into a hug once she was close enough.

"hey, god, this is insane." gabe laughed a little as the rest of his family came up behind him.

"i know, how are you feeling?" samy wondered and admired his fun suit.

"nervous..really nervous." the dark-haired boy admitted.

the brunette’s face softened out as she brushed down his suit jacket. “whatever happens in there is meant to happen. it's gonna be good,” samy reassured.

"have you seen will or ryan yet?" gabe changed the subject.

"i haven't seen either of them since we got here two days ago." samy said with a small frown.

"will should be coming in soon. he was a few people behind me i think." just as gabe said that, samy spotted the familiar mop of blonde hair and will's infamous navy suit scanning the crowd of people.

"i see him." samy said and gabe whipped around to find his best friend.

the girl's feet moved faster than her mind as she pushed her way through everyone to get to will. he finally spotted her and also picked up his speed to meet her in the middle.

will's hands clasped around her back, pulling her into him. the two squeezed one another tightly, taking in the moment and the feeling of finally being together after not getting to see one another yet.

"i'm so glad you're here." will muttered into her shoulder. the girl grinned, rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

the two pulled apart, missing the knowing looks from their families watching them. samy went to hug grace while will hugged gabe.

"it's good to see you again." grace laughed as she exchanged her hug with samy.

"you too, gracie.” the brunette chuckled.

"i hate to break up the reunions, but let's get our seats." mrs. smith said, always rushing people to where they needed to be like always.

everyone nodded and will found his way back to samy's side. the girl wrapped her arm around his. “how are you feeling?" she asked.

"nervous for sure." the blonde laughed. samy smiled, rubbing his arm in hopes of soothing his nerves.

everything about will looked good. his hair was styled perfectly and his suit was pressed making him look clean and classy for the night. the feeling returned in samy's stomach as she gripped his arm through the arena.

the smiths and hughes broke away from gabe's family as they took their seats on opposite ends of the stairs. whatever order mrs. smith had for everyone's seating arrangements was thrown out the window when will insisted samy sat next to him. once again, the two missed the knowing glances from family as mrs. smith gave in and let samy sit next to will.

the absent touches, the closeness, the comments—it wasn't usual to samy and will. they had always been like that, but right now samy was seeing it in a different way. will's fingers brushing across her hand left sparks in its wake. her heart raced anytime he looked at her for longer than he usually did. she just kept telling herself it was all normal. they were usually touchy and close with one another, except this time around samy couldn't get out of her head that something was different. something felt different and she didn't know if will felt it too.

the adrenaline started rising in the room as they got ready to announce the first overall pick. will's hand clasped around samy's with a firm grasp. his face was set and focused, but samy knew he had a 100 different thoughts running through his mind.

connor bedard went 1st pick overall which was pretty expected. he was a very watched player this past year and everyone knew he was probably going first.

as the second and third picks were announced, will knew he was most likely going next. it was all based on the 2nd round pick and everyone held their breaths in anticipation.

“the fourth pick overall for the san jose sharks is pleased to announce will smith." the announcer said.

everyone immediately jumped up as a smile appeared on will's lips. he quickly brought samy into his arms before hugging his parents and sisters. his mom took ahold of his suit jacket as he took it off and made his way down to the stage. gracegrabbed samy's hand, a smile on both of their faces as they watched will put on his new jersey. blue was definitely his color and samy couldn't be prouder of her best friend.

ryan and gabe weren't far after will. samy exchanged hugs with both of the boys as she watched them make their way down to the stage like her brothers did so many years ago.

everyone knew the boys had a bunch of press to do, so they wouldn't ben seeing them until after. samy tried easing her racing mind by talking more with grace and ryan's girlfriend for the time being until she couldn't take her racing thoughts anymore and needed to use the bathroom.

the girl stared at herself in the mirror trying to make sense of why she couldn't stop thinking about will and why her heart clenched every time she saw him. she didn't get it. he was her best friend. she's seen him as a brother for as long as she could remember. why was she suddenly seeing him so differently? why did he make her heart race and her palms sweaty?

samy gained the courage to go back out with everyone. she made her way through the arena when someone called her name. the girl spun around, recognizing the voice from a mile away. will was racing towards her still in his new jersey.

she threw herself into his arms as they hugged one another tightly.

"so proud of you willie." samy said into his shoulder.

"god, this feels so surreal. i don't think i've even processed it yet." will laughed a little as he pulled back some but kept his hands on her waist.

"what did i say? i knew the sharks would take you." the girl laughed as she thought about her predictions for all the boys she made months ago. will smiled, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

"thank you for being here. it..it really means a lot." will said softly. samy smiled and that time as will stared at the girl in front of him, it all fell into place.

the two felt the pull. they felt the racing hearts and the touches. will's gaze never left samy's as her heart beat a bruise into her chest seeing him look at her like that. will's heart was doing the same as samy stared back at him, uncertainty crossing into her features as they stayed like that until someone else's voice broke them apart.

"will!!" it was grace racing towards them with their families hot on her tail. samy and will quickly broke apart just as his older sister reached him and brought him into another loving hug.

samy stepped back, smiling at the sibling’s exchange all while will never took his eyes off of her.

[another-supernova-girl]

An Exercise in Control - Cooper Adams/Abbott x Fem OC

* Part ? : A Winter's Interlude *

So...I am currently on day 4 of dealing with what I assume to be a cold, and since I'm feeling pretty wretched, and have no one to show me the slightest hint of care IRL, I thought I'd write a little something with Cooper taking care of my OC when she's sick. Slight spoilers, as this takes place after the main story (that is not yet completed). All you need to know if that Delilah has, at this point, found out Cooper is The Butcher, and she is living in her own apartment now. That's pretty much it outside of what is already in the posted chapters 1-3. Gif is mine.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3

(( word count ~ 1,700 ))

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“Hey, man, she's not here today.” Cooper heard the words come out of the bookstore employee's mouth before he registered they were directed at himself, and he swerved around on the spot toward the younger man.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his expression neutral. Cooper had encountered the young man before, and didn't love the fact that he happened to be his girl's co-worker, but he knew he wasn't a threat.

“Delilah? You're lookin' for her, right?” the younger man clarified. “She called in sick.”

“Is that so?” Cooper replied, his hand digging into his pocket for his phone, seeing no missed messages or calls when he checked the screen. Is she was sick, it was news to him.

* * *

“I'm...I'm coming,” a hoarse voice sounded from inside the small studio apartment that Delilah resided in when she wasn't at work, or at Cooper's house. “Sorry, the app isn't updating, I guess,” she croaked as she unbolted the lock, dragging the chain away, and opened the door to a far more familiar face than she expected. “Cooper?” she whimpered, her voice barely recognizable, as she stared up at the looming man, a look on his face she'd never seen so transparently – selfless and full of blatant concern.

“Why didn't you tell me?” The Butcher asked as he began to reach a large hand out, his movements stilling as he was met with a crackling cough.

“It's not a big deal,” she mumbled, continuing to stand in the doorway, grasping the frame and the solid wood, blocking his entrance. “It's just a c-” she began to insist, but another noisy cough cut into her words, and her grip on the door in her grasp weakened, Cooper taking the opportunity to infiltrate the diminutive apartment. “It's just a cold,” she insisted as she pressed her body weight against the door, shoving it closed again after her failure to keep her boyfriend out of her living space.

“I don't care if it's just a cold. You should have told me,” he insisted, his tone commanding, as he glanced over his surroundings. He'd spent more hours in the little apartment than he could count, but he'd never seen it so disheveled. Looking back to his paramour, he realized he'd never seen her quite so disheveled either, as least not under circumstances that didn't involve himself, and his seductive control over her. Sex was the last thing on his mind, however, as he looked her over. “Baby, you should have told me,” he spoke again, his voice far softer as he strode the short distance between them and pulled her into his jacket-covered arms before she could vocally protest.

“Cooper, sto-” Delilah began, but another round of rattling coughs escaped, her face warm, her eyes glistening when he pulled away just enough to peer down at her. “I don't...I don't wanna get you sick, too,” she rasped, but The Butcher was having none of that.

“I'm not worried about getting sick,” he insisted, his eyes darting back to the door at the sudden sound of knocking.

“It's my delivery,” she mumbled as he abandoned his hold on her to return to the door, opening it to find a stranger holding bags of food.

* * *

Cooper took control of the situation, despite Delilah's protests, instructing her to get in the shower while he set to work, shuffling through her collection of medicines, and ordering up various caplets and cough syrups for another delivery. Making a quick sweep of the apartment, he gathered up used tissue boxes and overflowing bags of their previous contents, freezing for a moment every time he heard a series of coughs sound from the bathroom. By the time he stepped into the steam-filled room, Delilah had given up on standing, and he found her instead sitting in the middle of the tub with the hot water pulsing against her bare back.

“Cooper, I'm serious, I don't w-” she began to protest again when he pushed the door closed behind himself, watched as he began to strip off his security guard uniform, fold it up and set it on the corner of the sink.

“I told you,” he retorted as he stripped down to nothing, and shoved aside the translucent curtain to reveal the equally nude young woman inside. “I'm not worried about me getting sick...now, stand up, sweetheart, let's get you clean.” Cooper stepped into the shower and grasped her hands for leverage, caught her against his body when her feet nearly gave way below her, and felt her warm, wet frame collapse against his.

“Cooper...” she murmured as he set about cleansing her, applying shampoo to her hair and working it through as her hands clung to his shoulders, head handing forward, staring at their feet. Every part of him really was so much bigger than her equivalent.

“It's okay,” he answered, gripping the detachable shower head to rinse her hair clean. He repeated the process to re-shampoo, condition, and cleanse her body, his actions thorough but surprisingly chaste. “We'll have to do this again when you're feeling better,” he quipped, grasping her carefully by her waist and turning her around to rinse the suds away. She nodded slowly, content to simply stand in the moist heat and feel his hands on her. Delilah was visibly disappointed when he finally turned the water off. “We can't stand in here forever, sweetheart. Your hot water is already running low,” he noted, and she nodded but spoke no words. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes watering as he began to towel her off, and Cooper felt her arms wrap around his waist when he worked his way back up to towel at her hair. Despite the seriousness of their predicament, his cock began to twitch to life at the press of her nude body against his, and he let out a sigh.

“I must not look that bad,” she mumbled, lying her temple against his chest, his strong arms wrapping about her and holding her even closer.

“Of course not,” he whispered as he rested his chin lightly against her crown. “But you sound miserable, baby.”

“I feel miserable,” she confirmed, closing her eyes, the fatigue of her body and mind making her even more compliant to his wishes than usual. A knock at the door, however, drew them both out of their moment of peace. “What's that?” she mumbled softly, before a cough took hold of her once more.

“Medicine,” Cooper stated, and her eyes were even more bleary as she looked up at him. “You can't expect to get better on nothing but soup and expired cough syrup.” She could do little but nod in defeat.

“Sorry,” she whispered, and he shook his head slightly, lifting the towel back up to place it over her damp hair, massaging gently.

“Don't be sorry, baby,” Cooper uttered as he tended to her. “Just...let me know, next time. There's no point in you suffering alone when I'm a text away,” he continued.

“I'm just-” another cough cut her off, and Cooper placed a palm against the middle of her shoulder blades, feeling her rattle against him. “I'm just not used to asking for help.”

“I'm aware,” he murmured, and she glanced back up at him, a weak smile on her lips. “But you've gotten used to a lot of things, lately, right?” She nodded, and he continued. “And this is no different. I want you to come to me when you need me...not hide away because...why were you hiding this from me, anyway?” Cooper asked suddenly. “I know it's not just you thinking you don't need help.”

Before she could answer, Delilah let out a noisy sneeze, closing her eyes tight, covering her face with her hands as Cooper ripped off some toilet paper and pressed it into her palm. “This,” she mumbled before blowing her nose into the paper, hearing the sound of her congestion in her chest and behind her ears. “I didn't want you to see me, you know...gross,” she admitted. Cooper stepped back as Delilah padded around to drop the used paper into the wastebasket, and she was surprised to see a serene smile on Cooper's lips when she glanced back at him. “What?”

“Baby, you're not gross. You're adorable-”

“No, I'm not-”

“Yes, you are...even when you're a mucus-y mess,” his smile broadened when her face flushed more, shaking her head and turning away from him to grab another towel, hanging from the curtain rod.

* * *

The sun had begun to set by the time the couple reemerged from the bathroom, and Cooper collected the delivered bag of medicines from outside, as Delilah dressed herself in the set of pajamas her Butcher boyfriend had laid out for her. Re-heated chicken noodle soup followed, along with a cap of revolting cough syrup, and promises that the flavor was worth the results. By the time the sky had darkened into inky black, the couple found themselves cuddled up on Delilah's bed, oversized soup bowl in hand, watched a short-lived television series she'd seen a dozen times over, neither occupant invested much in what played on the laptop screen.

Tissues were massacred unendingly by Delilah's nose, but the congested coughs became less frequent to her relief from the hideous cap of medicated liquid. Her throat scratchy, and made worse from talking, Delilah became mostly silent as she lay against the heat of Cooper's chest, his large hands grazing over her thighs and arms for comfort. Despite Delilah's concern over passing her sickness on to him, he had budged not an inch in his resolve, content to simply hold her.

“Are you staying the night?” she murmured against his cotton shirt, her breath coming out in warm puffs against the fabric.

“Of course...are you going to take care of me when I get sick with whatever you have?” Cooper whispered as his hands continued to stroke her limbs, Delilah tilting her head to gaze up at him, and the calm comfort of his features.

“Of course.”

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED.💙

tagging : @gissellec1 , @sashimeep , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 ,

@charliehoennam , @bleeding-heartz , @gt-rxn , @simplymurdock , @lucy-sky ,

@pinkflowerwombat , @one-of-thewalkingdead , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @pinastrihaven ,

@amethystblackkchaos

[socratesvisitsarcadia]

Arrangements

“Wait- Let me get this straight- So, you’re made of dirt?”

“I am made of clay! And not just any clay either. Us Claytrolls are made of a special clay, which combined with a good life source, gives us life.” The astonishment on Toby’s face made Angor somewhat proud of his origin. 

The next question was stopped by the sound of the Trollmarket door opening, out of it, appeared the Trollhunter, the conundrum who was his trainer and the headmaster, Vendel. Instantly, any emotion he previously felt was exchanged for another wave of anxiety, now more aware, he breathed. The elder watched the ember-eyed troll, frowning deeply as he stared the other up and down. His glowing hearthstone staff echoed in the empty canal as he circled him.

“So… This is the infamous Angor Rot.” The name brought another ache to the troll’s chest, but he preferred not to speak. “You got your soul back and are willing to spare us. Very noble.”

There was clear disgust in the voice of the headmaster, not unexpectedly taking the history of the one in front of him. To Angor’s relief, Jim was the one who spoke in his defense. “It’s just Angor, Vendel. And can you put his soul back?” 

Vendell hummed, his usual suspicious tone not very happy at the confrontation from the Trollhunter. Alas, he seemed to drown it and turned back to the troll assassin. 

“Is the ring with you?” Angor showed it, Vendel gestured to take it from his hand and Angor hesitated, pulling it back and hiding it. “I need to see it and it’s incantation if you want me to find a solution.”

Uncomfortable as it made him, it made sense. So he resigned, carefully handing it over, doing what he could to make his shaking hand imperceptible. 

The old troll was careful, knowing full well that getting on Angor's bad side, even if he was “better” would not be a good idea. He examined the ring, a careful watch which, under the clay troll’s glance, felt invading to say the absolute least. Yet, after long and painstaking minutes of careful examination, Vendell sighed.

And it wasn’t any sigh, it was one the trollhunters had never seen before. 

One of defeat.

“When was this curse put on you?” 

That question Angor didn’t expect, “I was… Maybe 2000, or around it.” 

All the trolls surrounding them looked shocked. Blinky gasped with a pained look in his eyes, and Angor averted his gaze. The humans were a bit confused. After all, it seemed a reasonable age.

“What… Does that mean?” Jim cautioned.

Vendel did the work of explaining it. “Imagine a troll’s age is precisely a hundred times yours. He would've been simply a few years older than you when he was cursed to be without his soul. And that was…?”

“800 years ago…”  He wished he had the courage to roll his eyes, but taken he had his soul in someone else's hands, he didn’t have the courage to seem disrespectful. 

“Truly… That is a long time… And for an incantation, I seldom know…” The elder handed back the ring, which was quickly brought back to Angor’s possession. “I will look into it. However, I cannot promise I will be able to return your soul to your body. Curses like the one put on you… They are cryptic things unseen for more than a millennia.” 

“So… I’ll be like this… For the rest of my days.”

“You might. But I might know some sources.” Vendel turned around, heading into Trollmarket. “Be careful with the ring for now. Whatever happens, let nothing happen to it.” 

“And…” Angor interrupted, forcing the elder to look back once more. “What am I to do till then?”

“I’d say stay out of trouble. Enjoy your freedom.” Then the doors closed, tenseing the air outside. 

Silence reigned for a moment, all unsure of the results. Angor held firmly to the ring, he could feel his soul in there, he could feel through it, but it wasn’t the same. 

Aaarrrgh put a hand to the troll’s back gently, together with his wingman, in a gesture of sympathy. At that moment, Claire arrived, having snuck out again and rode her bike to them. One quick update later, she was in a similar state of disappointment, yet refused to disregard the hope in the old troll’s words. 

“Well, he did say he MIGHT have a solution! So not all hope is lost!” She pointed out. “We just gotta give him some time right? He’s always done his best to help us! Even by carving the stones! If I came to know anything from Vendel he might be an old goat, but he is a great guy.”

Angor heard the words, wishing to believe her, yet his body tingled as he thought about the possibility of never properly feeling again, always feeling empty like that. He sighed, still with the defeat souring his tongue. 

“Thank you for all your assistance, Trollhunters… But I assume you have better hunts than me now.” The assassin began to walk towards the other side of the canal. 

“Hey! Wait up! Where’re you going?!” Toby chased after Angor, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Well, I cannot stay here, and you have already answered the call I made. This, I shall leave you alone, much like I tried before.” Angor walked around the boy, trying to continue his way off. However, a heavy feeling in his pocket reminded him to stop once more. “Ah… And girl?” He tossed the shadow staff to her, which was caught quickly. “I see no need for it. If you do, then keep it.”

She looked up at him, feeling bad for him. She turned to the group, scanning and seeing that no one else had an idea fast enough, though, it only took one look at Aaarrrgh to give her one. 

“I have an idea!” She stood in front of him. “You can stay at my place!”

Everyone turned confused at her, and Jim showed concern instantly. “Where did that come from??”

“Well! For one, he knows how to use the staff better than anyone else here! He can teach me!” That logic made sense, however, it didn’t make anyone any more confident. “Besides. How’s it fair that you both get to have protectors, but I got no one? What if something happens? What will Not-Henrique do? Slap them with a frying pan?”

Angor was the most baffled of them all, was it not the girl who had said it best to use his soul? Wasn’t it her who was distrusting of him? Why was she offering that specific solution now? It was way too suspicious.

“You want me… to live as your protector? And to teach you how to use the staff?”

“I mean, think about it. Are you gonna stay in the sewers where you can be ambushed by goblins? The changelings could be coming back for you, right? They know you’re out here, ring hanging around to be taken!” She pointed to his ring, and he instinctively brought his hand to it. “I don’t think the changelings would be stupid enough to try to get the ring from you when you’re in a civilian house with a small child inside and one of the Trollhunters in the other room. So. You get a safe place to stay with no strings attached, I get protection and a magic mentor!” 

The plan sounded quite sound, but if it was that easy, Something in it didn’t feel right still, was it the girl’s aura or simply how fast she offered? It simply wasn’t right. 

Though he didn’t have any better choices.

“Alright.” All turned to him even more confused. “I have no better option. And I suppose it can be mutualistic.”

Before anything could be said, Jim walked to Claire, taking her by the shoulders a little further from them. “Just one second-”

He didn’t fight them on it, turning his back and instead watching the greenery above the canal. 

“Claire- Are you sure about this?? You were the one who- well- said we should use the ring!” Jim whispered, keeping a close eye on the troll behind them to make sure he didn’t hear it.

“What? Draal literally moved in with you just an hour after he tried to kill you too!” Claire was offended but matched the boy’s tone.

“It’s not about that! What if-” Jim lowers his voice even more, “What if he finds out that you wanted to use the ring?”

“You think I’d try to take it?!”

“What I am saying is! You’re always rushing into things as well as judging people rashly! So I’m just worried you’re walking into something you can’t walk out!” He was stern, sterner than he had ever been. 

Claire was shocked at how angry he felt, though, once she stopped to think, he was right. She had judged him for being cautious with opening the bridge, she judged him for the pace of the stones and she threw herself into a lot of trouble. He is even in trouble with the council because of her. And also, she judged Angor without knowing his story, and it was true that she did not want to trust him and risk losing her chance at getting her brother back. 

She had enough self-knowledge to know… She did mess up.

She sighed heavily. “You’re right. I am terrified… Of losing my baby brother… of never seeing him again. But that isn’t an excuse for how I’ve acted, so… I’m sorry, Jim. But I do think this is a good plan, and you gotta agree.” 

“I do agree. But would he if he knew?” Jim gestured with his head towards Angor, who still kept an eye on the greenery and the streetlights, fascinated by them. 

Claire watched, then thought for a moment, walking past Jim and towards the troll. He turned when he heard her footsteps. “Okay. Before you fully commit to wanting to stay with me, I guess I owe it to tell you…-”

“You wanted to use my soul to control me.” Angor interrupted, eyes continuing to be neutral towards her. She was stunned, taking a step back and holding tight to the staff. “I could hear it. You’re not good at whispering… But… I do not blame you.” 

“Wait- really?!”

“You had no reason to know more about me, you also had not much time. In a situation like yours, I do not believe my actions wouldn’t have differed much.” He knelt down, still at a distance from her but now looking Claire in the eyes. “My only term of agreement now is, that you will not under any circumstance touch my ring without direct permission.” 

His voice was not aggressive, it wasn’t a threat, but it was cold. Claire had no trouble with those terms, she had no interest in controlling him. So, she agreed. “It’s gonna feel like I’m not even there.”

There. Settled. 

Back in the Nunez household, Claire climbed through her window again, into her room, beckoning Angor to follow. She could hear her parents talking downstairs, so she guided him to a trapdoor on the main hall's ceiling. “My dad has the basement as his workout room as well as mom’s office. So you can’t stay there. But no one goes into the attic. So, you’re perfectly hidden!” 

Angor unlocked the door, opened it and climbed up. It was rather spacious, sure he had to bend down but for a human, it wasn’t terrible. Claire climbed up too, turning on a lamp. All around there were boxes, some rogue items thrown around, mostly baby items. The moment he stepped on it, the floors creaked. 

“Oh… That might be an issue.” 

“It won’t.” Angor took his knife, Claire flinching at the motion, and quietly yet swiftly carving symbols into the wooden floor. One incantation later, when he walked, his steps were silent. “Done. This place will do.” 

“That’s awesome. Teach me that too?” He turned to her, seeing again that shine of curiosity in her eyes. 

“Maybe.” He sat down on one of the empty corners, avoiding looking at the girl, instead taking an unfinished totem. “Thank you for offering this place.” 

“It’s the least I can do after you gave back the stones that we needed to save my brother.” She stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Well. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, tap on my window.”

She walked out, leaving the once-assassin to his thoughts. Laying back down, the wooden floor was softer than the stone he once used as resting ground. The wooden ceiling was also a lot different from what he was used to, though, looking closely, it got his attention. Little glass orbs on a string, he knew now as “led”s, were stretched out on little hooks. 

It piqued his curiosity.

Going by what he saw Strickler doing, he found the end of the lights, plugging it in a hole in the wall he found matched the pins. The lights came alive, shining in hues of blue and yellow, lighting in a smooth breathing manner. He watched, amazed, the little lights, almost pixie-like. He understood they weren’t alive, that it was a trick of human crafters, but it was still… Pretty.

Angor would never dare sleep, not if he could help it. But he could, in retrospect, watch the lights for a little. 

They seemed to be soothing enough.

[xshiny]

Shared Struggles prt 1

Trigger Warning! ⚠️

Eating disorder -> not eating for a while resulting to unhealthy body

WIP 💀

Unbeknownst to those who didn’t pay much mind to you, you had been struggling to eat much or anything at all.You thought you were flying under the radar fairly well with this, until Keegan found you and walked over to you, pressing his shoulder to the wall as he leaned to be level with you. “You didn’t come down for dinner,” He said smoothly. He was the least confrontational of personal problems out of all your friends, so it was surprising. “Nor were you there for breakfast.. whys that?"

"I already ate" you shrugged it off, moving past him.

“You didn’t.” Keegan said bluntly. “I looked in the kitchen on my way back from the table.. there wasn’t even a plate put in the sink. You’re a bad liar.”

"I put the dishes away. You're a bad looker" you quickly said, and took another step.

This caught him off guard for a moment, before he pushed himself off the wall and stepped in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me.”

"I'm looking" you blinked, looking at him and stood there in his grasp. You were playing it cool.

He tightened his grip slightly until your view was entirely him. “Do you even realize how thin you’ve gotten? You can practically see your bones through your skin for god’s sake!”

"I'm not skinny, I'm just...not as big as you" you shrug, not even caring about the fact that what he said is true.

He looked at you like you had lost your mind. “Not as big as me?? Dude,” He said, stepping back as he gestured to himself, “You can practically see the bones in your spine! You look like you’re dying!”

"Dying? I'm not dying!" You protest, frowning at him.

“Well you’re damn well starving yourself and that’s a slippery slope to all sorts of issues. Your skin is pale, and your eyes are all bloodshot and sunken. And you don’t have any energy, man! You’re exhausted just by walking!!”

"I need sleep!?" You suggest, and shrug your shoulders again.

“Yeah, that too!” He exclaimed, “But I mean, you have to see what I mean right? You look like if you dropped dead, people wouldn’t question it because they expect it! Your entire skin color is almost blue! You’re a shade of white we’ve never seen! Do you even remember the last time you had a full meal?”

"...No.."

“You can’t even remember?” He looked genuinely hurt. “How long has it been?? The last I remember, you didn’t eat that day either… that was, what, two weeks ago?”

Suddenly you feel dizzy and slump forward a bit, stumbling over your feet. "S'been a while"

Keegan let go of your shoulders as he immediately scooped you up in his arms, holding you close to prevent you from any more stumbling.“Jesus Christ!” He yelled, “You’re about to collapse!”

"Am...not...bouta..." You complained, and your knees gave out, causing you to go dead weight on him.

Keegan made the executive decision to carry you bridal style and immediately went downstairs to take you to the medical unit.He kicked down the door and yelled, “We need help! Anyone?! Come quick!”

Has been worked on ⤵️

When multiple members of the unit rushed in, he finally explained in more detail what was wrong with you, making sure to mention your severe lack of eating. The nurses were incredibly worried, but got to work immediately. It took hours for them to fix any nutrient deficiencies you may have and give you an intravenous injection of potassium to prevent further muscle fatigue.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

A/n: Make sure you lovelies eat!! Take care of yourselves ❤️

Sorry for any inaccurate scenes 😭

And still working on that last scene...will update later...

Update: it's good enough for now 🥲👍 fictional logic save me

Part 2

[silverstar-1117]

addicted to you - chapter 1

˙⋆✮Pairing; Lee Know x Afab!Reader

˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮Summary; Minho hadn’t seen his childhood friend in years but you had truly never left his mind. Even though he was the reason behind your absence all he wanted was you to come back.

˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮Warnings; implied afab reader, (they/them pronouns used), slight angst, my own inability to update consistently (sorry lol), this is my first kpop fanfic pls be nice to me im a crybaby

His chest was heaving as he left the lights and the cheers behind him. He was tired. Hyunjin and Felix had immediately ran off ahead of him before it even seemed like music had stopped playing throughout the building. The feeling of sweat cooling against his hot skin made him frown. They were really going to get it when he caught up with them. Air fryer or not.

He walked through the backstage area looking for the two so they could go ahead and get ready to return to their dressing room before their managers decided to go looking for them. He didn’t know what they thought they were doing when they knew the three of them had to be back at the dorm soon.

Minho sighed as he finally saw the two boys at the end of the hallway ahead of him, but stopped as he saw the back of someone standing in front of them. Both Hyunjin and Felix looked invested into the conversation with this mystery person. Of course the two of them would already be off bothering someone else.

Felix looked up and away from the other two cheered as he saw him arrive, calling out for him “Hyung! You have come to meet them, they were also a back up dancer on the Wings tour!”

The older felt his face fill with confusion but still turned to look at the newcomer. Maybe, it was an old choreographer or another back up dancer he may or may have not danced with.

He didn’t expect the face he stared back at. A face he thought of during long nights in the dance studio. A face he thought he’d never see again.

Their outfit placed them as one of the back up dancers for one of the girl groups. Minho tried to shake the confusion from his mind as he clears his throat, “When did you get back to Korea?”

They smirked over at him before replying “I’ve been back. You just didn’t need to know.”

The two younger boys looked in between the newcomer and their hyung and then side eyed each other. “So you do know each other?” Hyunjin was the one to finally break the tension looking to Minho for an answer. Only he didn’t get one from him, “Yeah! Not only were we both on tour with BTS but we were also on the same dance crew growing up.”

The younger two idols looked at each other before they both went to speak, “I—“ their hyung quickly cut them off with a look. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Wow. It doesn’t matter? I guess things never change do they? It didn’t matter then and it sure doesn’t now.” They scoffed, “I guess you got what you wanted ‘Lee Know’. You don’t matter to me anymore.” He looked back at them stunned.

Before either Felix or Hyunjin could comprehend their hyung’s friend? enemy? frenemy? turned towards them, bowed with a tight smile towards them, “It was really nice to meet you two! You both did amazing on stage tonight.” and then they were gone.

[Two hours later]

The show was nearly over and it seemed as if Minho had been searching the building forever. He no longer knew if he was looking for them or if he was avoiding them in some round about way to torture himself by thinking he was seeing them around every corner without ever truly finding what he was looking for.

Finally, after what felt like hours he heard voices coming from a small hallway off to the side of the emptying dressing and green rooms. His feet stopped as soon as he laid his eyes on them. There they were smiling towards another boy group member who he recognized as TXT’s leader, Choi Soobin.

He sighed and as he turned around to leave his childhood friend alone they locked eyes.

The other idol seemed to understand something was about to happen and turned towards the back up dancer. “Just let me know, okay? Text me or Yeonjun-hyung if you need us.”

Minho knew he had no right to feel the way he did. The thought of them relying on someone else like they used to with him made him sick to his stomach. He knew he didn’t deserve it but that didn’t help him feel any different than he did right now.

“What?! I said it didn’t matter so why are you still chasing after me? We don’t need to see each other any more than we already will have to.” They no longer sounded the same as his old friend. No warmth or teasing to it at all , “Are you going to say anything at all or did you just come to tell me that i don’t matter all over again?”

He rushed to finally say something, “Birdie. Please stop and just listen to me for a second!”

“No! You don’t just get to come back after not speaking to me for YEARS and basically say I don’t matter!” Their hands waved around towards him expressing their anger towards him, “You don’t. It’s not fair to do that to me. So let’s go back to never speaking or seeing each other again.”

He yelled after them as they turned their back to him and walked away, “Birdie! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!”

It was too late. They were gone and he had just fucked it even more than he did last time he stuck his foot in his mouth with them. “Could this get any worse?”

“Uhh— yeah, I think it could’ve definitley gone better” Hyunjin’s voice sounded from behind him.

“Shut up, Hyunjin.”

authors note; hiii this is my first fanfic that i’ve written in literal years and my first kpop fanfiction ever! nice to meet you :3

[obislittleone]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 10

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: more death, more canon typical violence, some bonding between allies because they gotta survive this bitch as long as they can...

Chapter Summary: Danger lies in places you least expect it. Whether that be in the form of a small animal, or in a harmless capitol citizen. No one is safe from anything in the hunger games.

Word Count: 3.2k

howdy ho, pls excuse my laziness as of lately and enjoy some daily updates (i am not lazy i swear i have been launching a literal fashion brand ToT)

He snapped out of his trance when he heard the tail end of a half whispered conversation behind him.  “I imagine with her it would be marvelous, she certainly has the stamina,” one of the men behind him chuckled, the one on his left nodding in agreement before slamming back his drink. “Not to mention the flexibility.”

Finnick was restless, watching the screen, as usual. 

He’d only gone into the viewing party to stir some chatter, enough to get a sponsor, but then he’d been back on his couch, Mags close by in a chair that was far too large for a sweet little old woman such as herself. She did not care to move, either. 

It hurt her, to know that all this work, all this dedication, and all this commitment to the girl that came here from four might be in vain. But she kept a smile of optimism on her face for him, because she hadn’t seen him care so much about something in a long time. He had almost been numbed to these occasions, dulled to their effects. She held onto the same sliver of hope that he had been clinging to, praying that he would not be crushed if she were to lose. She couldn’t bear to watch him go through something like that again. The first time being when he watched the girl from his district die in the arena beside him. They trained together, they were allies together, and they had known each other before the reaping. Just like you and Lukas. 

Lukas, the dear boy with the longing for a loving mother. Mags hoped she gave him a taste of what it was like, to have someone wrap their arms around you and to be proud of you without any cause or reason. Lukas needed that. Lukas needed a lot of things. She hated the rules of these games, hated the games more than anything. That boy deserves to live, deserves to finally be shown respect from the one person he craves the most… but Finnick’s girl. One who also deserves to live, to come home and to let Finnick hold you in his arms. Mags would never bring it up to him, but she knows the glint in his eye is more than just the protection of a mentor. The look of genuine fear when he feels his prized girl may be in danger is not just one of sympathy for another tribute. He’s latched onto this one, she can feel it. She only hopes that when the time comes for one of them to die, that she will not have to face the streams of tears… her own or Finnicks. 

She watches him, the way he studies your every movement when the screen returns to the career pack, now depleted to three careers and a district seven tribute. A wild bunch they are, but hopefully the game makers will not overestimate their abilities. Lukas may have killed one tribute already, but Mercedes hasn’t. Mags doesn’t think she even could if she tried to. She knows that Finnick thinks the same thing. 

His smile when he leans forward is sweet, seeing her open the note she had crumpled into her pocket. She mirrors his smile on the other side of the camera, not even realizing it. His heart melts as she reads it, and rereads it, and then once more. She’s clinging to it, holding onto that little piece of paper. It’s the only communication she can get from him on the inside of this damned arena. 

-

“We should save those, we need to be using this time to gather other sources of food before more tributes come back to the cornucopia.”

Lukas was taking the lead again, and for good reason. There was little debate when it came to who was pulling the strings of this makeshift operation. He’d been the most confident with his survival knowledge, although he lacked in combat from the other careers. 

“He’s right, by tomorrow, the last tributes are going to try and find us. It’s best we stock up everything we’re going to need before that happens,” Lyra said, throwing on one of the backpacks, one of the smaller ones full of Kunai knives and hunting lures. 

“I w-wove this last night, it’s n-not standard, but it should w-work,” you held up to Lukas the fishing net you’d conjured before you’d gotten so tired the night before. It was far smaller than what he was used to, but it would work nonetheless. 

“It’s perfect,” he smiled, packing it up into another backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he nodded his head towards the trail ahead. 

You all were going to need to find a river, but luckily for you, Rodey had claimed to see one earlier yesterday, when you were all barely limping back to the cornucopia. 

He was doing really well this morning, probably on account of the sponsor he’d gotten. A new pair of shoes to replace the ones that were torn to bits from running yesterday. His blisters were killing him until those new shoes arrived. Now he was chipper as ever. 

“It was a bit further out, had a waterfall behind it…” he trailed, leading you all in a twisting and turning hike through the foggy forest of vines and trees that were tall enough to be skyscrapers. 

The scenery was something out of an old adventure book, something of an era you wished was alive today. Something where the hero gets the girl, and the danger comes to an end. You don’t see that happening at the conclusion of your story. You see your picture in the sky and the boom of cannonfire, ringing out in your ears before it all goes dark. You just hope it won’t be too horrible, too violent or too messy. 

By the time you reached the river, which was barely even a river, you went to the edge to stand by Lukas. You looked out to the waterfall that was sitting at the edge of the river bank, creating the endless flow. It was pretty, or it would be, under different circumstances. The other two of the group had taken off, finding bushes full of Echinacea flowers, and started harvesting those in case of any possible infections occurring in the future. 

“W-what do I need to do?” You asked the boy next to you, helping him take the net out of the backpack and unfold it enough that it will work to catch. 

“Not much. Can you stand in this shallow part over here?” 

You used his help to step down into the water, the surface level barely reaching your hips. The coolness drenching your clothes was a nice contrast to the constantly warm and overly humid environment. You’d been feeling sticky and gross for the past two days, and this was like a little bath of sorts. It rid you of that nasty feeling, and for once, you were happy to be standing in water.

“You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m g-good.”

He nodded, hopping in as well and handing you one end of the net, beginning to walk over towards the further side of the small river. It was far deeper on his side, but it didn’t deter him. He kept steady, opening the net and allowing it to start blocking the flow of anything swimming through. There weren’t many fish in the water, so it would take a minute of waiting. 

Meanwhile, Lyra and Rodey had stuffed their pockets full of the flowers and other plants that may be useful to them.

“So, Mercedes,” Lyra began, looking towards the riverbank and seeing you splash your hair into the water. She found it amusing, considering she heard one of the boys comment about her lack of swimming abilities. Maybe they’d been joking. She was from four, so it didn’t quite make sense. 

“What about her?” Rodey’s brows strewn with confusion, he turned to face Lyra completely, setting his backpack down for a moment to sit and rest. It had been a longer journey than expected to get here. 

“You call her Mercy, right?” She asked, and he nodded in return. What was she getting at? He didn’t care to interject yet. “Do you think…?”

“Do I think what?”

She sighed, looking once more to yourself and Lukas, before settling her eyes on Rodey. 

“Do you think she’s actually merciful? I have to think she’d kill either of us if she had to, but something tells me she’s not so sure of herself… She’s strong, man… she’s really strong. But she doesn’t exert it. When she fought me in training, it’s like she didn’t care if she won or lost.”

Rodey’s eyes found your smile by the riverbank, something sweet and warm and full of life, the exact opposite of what these games are supposed to be. You contradicted the meaning the capitol gave them, and he wondered if that would be in more ways than one. 

“She hasn’t killed anyone yet. I think when the time comes she’ll do what she has to, but until then, I wouldn’t bet on it being either of us.”

Lyra nodded, seemingly having the same thought. Rodey likes you, he wasn’t going to say something about you that could get you killed before you had to be. That’s the game, but for as long as he can he wants to take a page out of your book, avoiding the rules.

-

Finnick was standing as straight and tall as he could, his confidence on the outside rivaling that which had been seen for years. The side of him that people knew and loved. His cocky gestures and snarky remarks, the slight arrogance and acceptance of man worship at his feet. It had always been a facade, but it was harder to wear recently. Now he did his best to show that he was back, his original self was on display for everyone to see. 

He’d taken the day to become a little more serious about sponsors. So far, there was only one need of a Capitol gift, but as the last days roll around, he knows that he needs to start racking up the funds. You and Lukas have dwindling supplies, and soon, he’s sure the game makers will be using that against you. 

Mags never felt herself useful for this sort of thing, she always sat quietly in the corner and tried to simply read the room, giving tips to Finnick if he needed them. She was so thankful to have him by her side. He was so much better at being the talkative presence in these Capitol functions. Especially ones that had so much riding on them. Today, yours and Lukas’ lives. Next year, another pair of tributes who will need the same supplies, sponsors, and supporters. It was a crucial part of the games, and now more than ever, Finnick sought after these wealthy citizen’s personal assistance. 

He’d taken a break from circling for a moment, standing before the screen, watching you help Lukas with the fishing net. The water was shallow enough to stand in, and you seemed to be doing alright, the current of the stream not pulling or pushing you in any which direction. You’d even dunked your hair into the water, bringing some relief to your body, having thoroughly been exposed to the heat and humidity of this rainforest. Even though it rained often, it was still warm and humid. 

You’d whipped your hair back over your head, splashing Lukas in the face. He playfully scooped a hand into the water and threw it up in your direction, and you laughed with a wide smile. 

You were so beautiful, your smile was stunning. He was momentarily frozen in wonder… awestruck wonder. Like a moment where you gaze upon a magnificent sunset or a calming scene of nature. Something that you have to sit and admire for a second, because damn… you didn’t think anything could be so lovely without even trying.

He snapped out of his trance when he heard the tail end of a half whispered conversation behind him. 

“I imagine with her it would be marvelous, she certainly has the stamina,” one of the men behind him chuckled, the one on his left nodding in agreement before slamming back his drink. “Not to mention the flexibility.”

Finnick turned on his heels, staring down the gentleman’s face, and acting as though he didn’t know what was going on. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He played, tilting his head to entice some sort of response. 

“Oh, nothing. We were just talking about how agile and athletic your tributes are. You must be very proud.” 

“I am, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep bad things from happening to them,” he said with a sarcastic tone on the last bit. He knew that with the look he shot the man to speak, they would consider another topic of conversation. 

Finnick only turned back around when they moved on to talk about other tributes. 

What he’d heard pretty much cemented in stone what he already thought to be true. If you made it out of that arena, you’d be doomed to a life the same as him. Being called into the Capitol for nightly visits until they grow tired of you. It took finnick five whole years to become old news… he can’t even imagine how loved you would be for many years beyond that. You’d somehow charmed him without even trying, and here he was on a mission to save your life because of it. He couldn’t fathom how anyone could grow tired of you. There’s no other tribute, past, present, or even future that has a chance of beating you in sweetness and beauty. There’s no other tribute who has your compassion, your mercy… as much as he hated that nickname for you, he now found himself clinging to it in hopes of repeating it back to you. 

The people around him continue to speak of you, and he knows that his selfishness will use it to his advantage. Your life out of the arena would be filled with comments like these, and the repercussions of them, the work and practical slavery of them, not one ever being your fault. But even through all of it, he still wants you to live. He wants you to come home and have a house across from his and beside Mags’. He wants to keep giving you swimming lessons until you feel confident to go into the water without him. He wants to teach you how to fish like he and his father used to do. He wants to take you into the market and show you all his favorite places to get food. He wants to watch you thrive and grow beyond these games and forget about all the bad things. His want for your happiness, his need for your presence to return… It's what drives him. 

He doesn’t linger on the screen for too much longer before he continues making his rounds.

-

The looks on the other tribute's faces when you offer them a piece of split open fish is hilarious. You can’t help but giggle. You have to sit for a moment and think, because no, other districts probably don’t just tear open a fish and eat it. How strange, that the tributes can be so different in culture, but still all the same. 

You’ve grown up eating fish, grown up being around the smell and feeling the texture. It doesn’t bother you because it is familiar, and mundane. 

They eventually sucked it up and tried some, knowing that by tomorrow they would have to eat it anyway. 

“It’s not terrible, could use some salt,” Rodey joked around, twisting his face into different expressions with every bite he took. 

“My m-mama cooks fish better than a-anyone I’ve ever met. Bakes it with lemon juice a-and pepper.” You smiled, willing yourself to remember your mother and her home cooked meals. 

She hadn’t been able to cook in very large quantities lately, one of the primary reasons you’d been hungry so often.The loss of your dad’s paycheck was bound to take a toll. 

“Sounds pretty good to me,” He laughed, leaning his shoulder into yours playfully. His attempts at affection were becoming more pronounced as the day went on. Offering you his hand to step out of the river, handing you one of the blankets to dry off with, his lingering touches and prolonged stares that lasted just a bit too long. You didn’t mind it. He made being in this hellhole a decent experience. You’re going to die anyways, might as well enjoy the time you have left. 

Out of nowhere, Lukas’ yell of warning stirred everyone. 

“Lyra, watch out!” 

But it was too late. There was a long and colorful snake that had just sunk its teeth into her arm. Lukas immediately grabbed one of the short swords and cut it in half, ridding her of the animal… but the damage had already been done. 

“What was that thing?” She grabbed her arm in pain, writhing around on the ground after feeling the spread of its venom in her veins. It turned them dark, the webbing of black inky venom had already sunk too far into her system. 

“Lyra,” Rodey tried to still her movements, her screams of terror going in one ear and out the other. Lukas rummaged through the backpacks, along with you, to try and find some of that healing ointment that the sponsors had given you the day before. You’d found it at the bottom of the last pack, turning around quickly and trying to help her. 

“Hold her still,” Lukas told Rodey, opening the canister, and applying some of the medical treatment over the entry wound, but it didn’t do anything. She still shook like a leaf, and wasn’t stopping. 

You knelt down and grabbed one of the bandage rolls from the same pack, trying to tie off her arm and create a tourniquet from it. The venom didn’t spread as fast, but it was still going, slowly reaching the top of her arm as it crawled over every vein she had. She had stopped screaming, but took your arm with her other hand. She pulled your forwards, and your eyes widened momentarily in fear. 

“Take it off, please,” she cried, her voice now slightly hoarse from the screams. You shook your head, about to protest, but she nodded. “I’m one less person to kill. Take it off.”

You looked at Lukas and Rodey, and they looked upset, but didn’t tell you anything. They didn’t know what to say. They had been happy to have this girl as an ally, but this is the hunger games. All will die but one, and this is Lyra’s time.

You looked back to her, your eyes welling up with tears. With a heavy heart, you untied the bandaging, letting the venom spread quickly again. Her flailing movements and screaming returned, but you had to step back, turning away and ducking your head into Rodey’s shoulder to keep her out of your eyeline. Once again the screaming stopped, and you looked back… Lyra had a look of peace in her now still eyes. She was gone, and the cannon fired synonymously after. You didn’t stop crying, and neither Rodey nor Lukas said anything to you about it. You felt like it was you. You felt like you’d killed her… 

That’s the thing about mercy. It isn’t always about showing restraint, or holding back. Sometimes, it’s about giving in, and letting things take their course.

-

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

[cambrioleur]

Random observations on this season (updating)

(SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY)

Episode 1

I don't think we've ever seen Assane do a genuine fourth-wall break before

OK so Claire has a last name now

Assane really expected that he could just show up and Claire would just fall at his feet

I'm surprised Benjamin is just allowed to continue working at his shop

This feels better-edited than Parts 1 & 2

Name a more iconic duo than Belkacem and failing constantly (she really doesn't listen, does she)

Episode 2

Philippe Courbet sighting

NEVER invite Guédira to a funeral lmaooo

Hang on I'm just now realizing that Juliette is at this funeral, too (she's standing in the second row behind Benjamin and Claire and honestly doesn't seem too upset about Assane's "death")

I like how in the flashback Babakar tells Assane that he reminds him of his mother and then it turns out she was a criminal

This seems to be around the time of Raoul's birthday again; he really can't catch a break on that

Episode 3

New shipping war just dropped: Guédira/Belkacem vs Guédira/Fleur

That bit where Claire was outright begging Benjamin to tell her Assane was alive and he couldn't...that was sad

But then it was followed by Benjamin doing the "uhh my FRIEND just died" act with Belkacem which was funny

This gang of thugs is trying a little too hard tbh

Assane's disguise in this episode is fucking terrible lol

The basketball coach disguise, on the other hand, is the only time I've genuinely thought he wasn't recognizable

Episode 4

Ironically that coach persona is probably the best parenting Assane has ever done

Claire? Doing things that are vaguely cool?? That feels illegal. Also, she looked so proud of herself for swiping that book, lol

Betraying Benjamin was certainly...a choice on Assane's part ("everyone disliked that")

This episode is going to devastate the show's Tumblr fandom

Episode 5

Assane trolling the shit out of Guédira will never not be funny

These 1998 flashbacks are pretty dark actually

Honestly the way Claire got that reveal out of Benjamin was very well-played on her part

Guédira out here looking like present-day Ringo Starr with that disguise

Aww look at Assane playing the matchmaker for Guédira and Belkacem, heh heh

This is easily one of the funniest episodes

Except Benjamin is straight up not having a good time -- it looks like he got beaten up in prison

Episode 6

Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not totally sure Benjamin knows that Assane betrayed him. It's possible he just thinks that he fucked up with the bracelet and then missed a cue in the maze

"Pasta with ketchup" jesus fucking christ Claire that sounds horrendous (although I'm guessing the only reason they did that was because of the ketchup-bottle reveal)

Assane really has Claire's number because he's now seduced her twice under two different identities

IDK whether or not Raoul has figured out that the coach is his dad but it's funny that he still seemed to be shipping it either way

It's nice that we get to see Claire's more playful side in this season, like her messing with Assane by acting really flirty with "Alex" after she realizes they're the same person

INCREDIBLE casting for the younger and older versions of Keller tbh; they easily look like they could be the same person

Episode 7

What a nice family reunion...it would be a shame if something happened to it...

The flashbacks are significantly darker than the present timeline this time around

Guédira finally got to arrest Assane, good for him!

The scene at the train station with the letter from Assane to Claire sort of reminds me of the ending to A Tale of Two Cities, which I had to read for AP prep a while back

Oh look, Hubert Pellegrini is back

So they're CLEARLY setting up another season with this ending

The choice of people to show on the montage there was interesting, lol

I could see a Juliette antagonist arc happening tbh

Maybe Assane's mom isn't all she seems either

And what about Benjamin? If he turns against Assane the viewers are going to lose their minds

[theflyindutchwoman]

Hi I’m back.

But mad now.

WHY IS EVERYONE (expect Tim) TREATING MY BABY LUCY SO BAD!?

No one was in that room supporting her after the shooting.

Angela and Nyla treated her like shit, looking at her like she’s less then. Acting like her failing to make detective was actually her own fault!?

The way Nolan fucked up and ends up on fucking tv!? While Lucy “makes a mistake” at a scene and gets taunted!?

No one our girl is spiraling lately. The only person she has right now is Tim. He has been unwavering in his support.

I’m so mad 😤 and then I’m also nervous because next week it seems like they’re making Tim abandon Lucy!? And like wtf is that!? He better explain himself and not join the dark side. He’s all we have for her right now (unless we include Tamara but she’s MIA)

Who do we talk to about giving my baby a better support team and friends!? Jackson would never.

LUCY RISKED HER FUCKING LIFE TONIGHT TO STOP THAT GUNMAN AND A SINGLE ONE OF THEM SEEMED TO CARE! (Again excluding our husband Tim Bradford)

See, I don't know if it's because I saw that hospital scene first - I forgot about the time change so that's the only scene I caught live - but I didn't think they were treating Lucy that badly (or maybe I expected worse). She was the suspect of a shooting, she had to be isolated. That's standard procedure. We saw some of it in 1.08 when Nolan shot someone, killing him in the process. Talia had to secure the scene while he was waiting in the hallway alone. Same when Grey showed up. It's in Lucy's best interest that they follow the procedure to the letter so she can be cleared.

But that doesn't mean people weren't there to support her. Nolan and Aaron showed up for her. They were just waiting outside. Grey was asking how she was doing. The reason why Tim was able to go directly to her is because he wasn't involved in the orginal case or the pending IA investigation. And as soon as they got an update, Grey and Wesley immediately went to her to ease her mind. Now, Wesley's reaction seemed a bit harsh, but in my opinion, he was just trying to warn her of what could possibly happen in the worst case scenario so she could prepare herself. He didn't insist on doing the interview while it was still fresh or anything. Maybe he could have been more empathetic instead of matter-of-fact, but Grey and Tim's reactions balanced him. Especially Tim! I love that final scene of the two of them so much.

I'm going to circle back on the Angela and Nyla thing in another post (I have a couple of asks on that topic as well). But I will say that between the Pentagram killer + the shooting, I'm sure they were both very busy. And again, they couldn't be seen talking to Lucy either. But the look of horror and terror on their faces when Lucy fell down in that alley was rather telling.

Now, there is a part that pissed me off as much as you and that's Nolan getting on TV after messing up… The double treatment is so jarring. I miss the days where making a mistake had some consequences for everyone. The man is like Teflon, nothing sticks anymore.

Anyway, back to Lucy…. I don't think she's as alone as she thinks. She feels isolated, that's clear. I'm going to write about this later once I gather my thoughts a bit more but there was a small moment that I think illustrate this difference of perspective : at the hospital, when she was alone in that room, she saw Grey and Wesley look at her before turning away. We, as the viewer, know that Grey was asking how she was holding up. But I can see how, for her, it would look entirely different. She's in a bad place mentally and it's all piling up. And like you said, it's going to get worse before it gets better, with Tim going MIA. That said, this last scene at the hospital makes me believe that he will have a good reason for not telling Lucy. Most likely because it concerns a classified matter or something like that. I just can't picture the man who was rushing through the hospital to get to her, will suddenly disappear on her when she needs him the most. There has to be more to that story. But yes, moments like these really remind me how much I miss Jackson 😭 You can truly feel his absence. Lucy needs friends.

[kaelinaloveslomaris]

Hey, I'm Plural on AO3 and just wanted to make sure you were doing okay? I don't really care about updates (though I do adore your writing) so long as you're doing alright. okay that's it I hope everything's going good for you and the summer is treating you kindly.

Thank you very much for your kind message! ❤️

I’m doing alright. My work has been pretty crazy and stressful for the past few years, and that led to burnout and a lack of creative energy. I’ve now started a Master’s program on top of everything else, so I suspect I’ll not be doing any writing for a few years while I complete that. I’m very excited for it though (mostly for it to be over, haha), and it’ll be great for my career, so it’s a worthwhile sacrifice.

I do have a huge chunk of the second chapter of Brother already written, as well as a piece from Tim’s POV and the one from Dick’s POV that you prompted, and I’d love to finish them someday. I don’t want to leave that fic hanging. I poke at them occasionally but haven’t been able to make significant progress.

But here, have a little snippet!

Jason kept himself ready to lunge after the kid even as he turned most of his attention towards disarming the various traps and alarms on his door. If the kid was going to run, now would be the time…

But, surprisingly, he didn’t. Tim stayed, still prepared for whatever danger response might be required, but let Jason guide him into his safehouse without complaint or resistance.

Jason caught a glimpse of the determined set of his lips and the calculating look in his eyes and realized, ah, he’s turned this into a mission. What better way to gather information on the Red Hood than by allowing himself to be taken back to a safehouse under the guise of a rescued civilian and see if he can catch him with his guard down?

It wouldn’t have worked if Jason had truly believed that Tim was a civilian. He would never have brought anyone else back to one of his safehouses. It wouldn’t really work out for Tim either, because Jason wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t planning on giving too much away. But he relaxed slightly now that he knew Tim probably wasn’t a flight risk at this point. But only slightly, because he might still be a fight risk.

He let Tim catalogue his apartment while he reset the alarms on his door. Just because he was pretty sure Tim wasn’t a flight risk now didn’t mean he wouldn’t become one again, and the last thing he needed at this point was someone, namely another Bat, sneaking into his safehouse unnoticed.

Tim must have realized there wasn’t much to see in this particular safehouse, because he turned his attention back to Jason just as he was finishing resetting the last trap. He’d kept his body between the door and Tim’s sight line to what he was doing, but if what Jason had heard about this Robin’s mind was true, the traps wouldn’t stump him for long if he was determined to get out, regardless if he’d seen how Jason handled them or not.

Jason turned to face him, resisting the urge to clap his hands together as he did so.

“Okay, kiddo. Let’s -”

“Tim,” Tim said.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Tim.”

Jason blinked behind the helmet. He hadn’t expected that. Of course, he already knew who Tim was, but presumably Tim didn’t know that Jason knew who he was.

And Jason vaguely remembered learning in his “what to do if you’re kidnapped as a civilian” lessons that it was important to try to humanize yourself to your captor, try to make them see you as a person rather than… whatever they’d kidnapped you for. As long as they weren’t a seasoned trafficker, sometimes it could convince them to let you go, or at least be less likely to hurt you. Jason grimaced. He’d have to be intentional about using Tim’s name.

[callmehere-iwillappear]

rec list (last updated: 10/22/23)

aka 'if you liked [cmh] you might also like [insert other really good fic here]' bc there are So Many amazing fics out there good lird

few things. first off if you see a disaster twins bias no you don't. second i tried to find all the authors' tumblrs but there were some i couldn't - if you know any of the ones i missed let me know!

aaand third, there are just. SO many good fics i ended up splitting things up. this is the rec post for multi chapter fics, here's the one shot rec post

Multichapter Fics

Complete

A Twin Thing (@minumi-chan)

Four times Donatello rejects Leo's notion of them being twins, and the once (and future) time he embraces it.

GOD THE TWINS EVER.... funny in parts but also hurts in the best possible way and thankfully has a happy ending to soothe the pain. i literally love them so much

Because We Could Not Stop For Death (@turtleinsoup)

After Leo dies, Donnie builds an android of his twin. After Leo dies, he comes back. He does. And Donnie will not ever let him go again.

very very very very VERY heavy please mind the warnings but god. god. another take on the 'leo dies in the prison dimension' concept that btw WILL make you cry. like a lot. absolutely incredible study of grief. i am never going to be the same person after reading this

coming right on back for you (@taizi)

Rise!Mikey’s portal in the prison dimension takes Leo a little bit farther than he meant for it to. 12!Mikey finds a familiar-looking stranger.

soooo full disclosure i haven't actually watched 2012 tmnt. that said even without that, this fic rules. incredibly soft and heartwarming. i love them

Corrupted Upgrade (@dandylovesturtles)

His brothers think they don't need him anymore? Well, fine. He doesn't need them either. The old Donatello is gone. He'll build a new one. One that will make them regret they ever threw him aside. Building things is what he's good at, after all.

i can't say too much without spoiling the twist, but oh MAN guys it's real good. come get your donnie hurt/comfort juice rn. also for a hurt/comfort fic it has NO RIGHT being so funny so often

Dimensions Apart & Home Again

"Who said I'm hiding?" Leo scoffs. Normally he wouldn't take such a sharp tone, but he's tired and not in the mood for what he feels to be an interrogation in his own bedroom. "You all know where I am. I live here, remember?" “Yeah, very funny. And you know where we live. But nobody's seen you for two weeks.”

ooohhh post movie hurt/comfort my beloved... leo is isolating and donnie kicks his ass. metaphorically. mostly. meanwhile raph and mikey are also having a certified Bad Time but it's okay they all get comfort by the end

Havoc, Thy Name is Donnie

Donnie accidentally turns himself into a child while experimenting with mystic power. It's cute until Donnie gets his hands on his older self's tech and then it's really uncute and Leo and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. are having a heart attack.

child donnie is an absolute MENACE and it's INCREDIBLE. terrorizes leo. terrorizes shelldon. terrorizes some random criminals. terrorizes april. terrorizes draxum. all in the course of a single day. 12/10

how to get very good at juggling (@radishhqueen)

The Krang invasion put a couple of things in perspective for April. One of them was how much she wanted her parents to meet the Hamatos. The only difficult part is…getting her parents to meet the Hamatos.

the turtles meet april's parents! it goes... about as well as can be expected. REALLY good april centric post movie fic

little kid with a big death wish (@remedyturtles)

Leo's mind rebelled against the sensation. The heaviness burst into awareness, body, limbs, lungs, blinking. The middle distance he'd apparently been staring in focused. Leo was awake. Leo was aware. Leo was alive. Being alive wasn't something he thought he'd be.

genuinely don't think i could ever recommend this fic enough. mind the warnings as it does get very heavy but. god. idk how to express how much this fic means to me in just a few sentences but like. you'll understand if you read it (also for. an actual summary: post movie recovery fic with a side of extra leo)

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don't say)

The boys learn the hard way that truths can hurt. Well, some of them.

truth spellllll you love to see it! lotta post movie angst + some good comfort at the end + bonus the boys actually being emotionally vulnerable and talking about their issues (even if it's not 100% by choice)

Trial and Error (@apatheticrobots)

Leo ends up in the past. This changes some things.

YES the healing (well. eventually).... big fan of the leos' dynamic in this one. also that One Scene (the one with the animatic. if you know you know) gives me goosebumps EVERY time good god

Unfinished business

When one dies leaving something undone, there's a belief, that they do not go gentle into that good night. They linger on until they've finished what they couldn't while alive. And for four turtles, that business is using the Poltergeist movie as inspiration.

bad future ending but make it HILARIOUS. tldr the future turtles haunt the SHIT out of the krang. that's all i'm giving you because that's all you should need. they fucking rick roll them. please

Use Only For Intended Purpose (me!)

That's probably not how mind melds are supposed to work.

sorry for reccing my own fic do you still love me /j BUT FR if you like post movie disaster twins hurt/comfort with a side of dream sharing. i got u

Where in the World is Neon Leon?

Leo practices portalling on his own. This is not a good idea for many, many reasons.

set over the course of the show + the movie! aka leo trying so so hard to be seen as reliable and getting incredibly fucked up over it. also making new friends

write this down on my headstone (it wasn't what i hoped for) (@bottledovercast)

it’s as he drifts listlessly through the cold-as-shit hellscape that leo’s willing to admit, maybe this wasn’t what raph meant. aka: i do not believe for one second that there were No Problems in between getting leo out of the prison dimension and the final scene of the movie.

i genuinely do not know how to do this one justice with words. it's written impeccably and the hurt/comfort is just. chefs kiss. please read it (+ has a sequel now that's also absolutely incredible!)

In progress

At My Worst (@teainthesnow)

Future Leo ends up back in time, stuck in the body of his younger self, who is still conscious but trapped within his mind.

genuinely LOVE this concept like there's a lot of (really good) future leo goes back in time fics but i'm pretty sure this is the only one i've read with them sharing a body? god the dynamic is. SO good. one of my fave future leo + present leo dynamics ever tbh. just. chefs kiss

I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good (@dandylovesturtles)

Leo is cursed by a mystic whatever thingy. But don't worry guys, he's totally got this! Getting back into his body? Easy peasy. (He hopes it will be easy peasy.)

will smith poses fellow ghost(ish) leo fic my beloved! ngl this one kinda has a special place in my heart so i May be biased BUT even aside from that it's just. so good. the premise is so interesting and it's written super well and in character and also i would like to give leo a hug PLEASE GOOD GOD

I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? (@tangledinink)

When Hamato Yoshi is presented with the chance to return to the surface with his sons and give them a 'normal' life as humans, he takes it. He didn't think that they would forget about that whole turtle thing. But it seems kind of too late to tell them now. Surely they won't find out any other way, right?

human au! ... kind of. actually brooches au but they THINK they're human which is fine until, y'know, it's not. currently in the 'not' part of the fic and it's just going really great for everyone! you love to see it

In Which Donnie and Leo Make Themselves Everyone Else's Problem in an NYC That Isn't Even Their Own

It was a huge mistake on the Kraang's part to kidnap the wrong half of the wrong set of brothers and leave behind two very worried twins. And not just any twins. The disaster twins.

another crossover with 12tmnt which. again i have not seen, but like. this fic is just. REALLY good. it's set pre movie so there's not that trauma, it's literally just the twins fucking the 12 kraang up and living up to their nickname while the 12 turtles (and rise mikey and raph) look on in horror

i think i would prefer the prison dimension (@purplecatghostposts)

Leo gets sent to the Kraang Apocalypse Future that he really didn’t want to think about. Future Leo, Mikey, and Donnie are absolutely baffled by him. Nobody is happy.

you've heard of future leo in the present, now get ready for: present leo in the future! he gets dragged into the apocalypse instead of getting pulled out of the prison dimension back to his brothers and boy he is, understandably, Not Thrilled!

Last Grain of Sand in the Hourglass (@last-hourglass)

The one where the Hamato family is freaking the fuck out, Leo is lost in the Prison Dimension, and a very-time-displaced Leonardo refuses to leave his younger self behind. (Oh, and there may be some mystic hauntings afoot. You know, the usual result of messing with the space-time continuum.)

future leo gets saved while present leo stays in the prison dimension! there's A Lot going on in this one and half of it is BIG spoilers but just. oh my god. this shit is SO well written i am eating it

Mikey's Jam-Packed, Guaranteed to Get Donnie's Memory Back, Friendship Tour!

Donnie wakes up without his memory one day and everyone panics. They're just going to have to jog his memory the old-fashioned way! Through the power of friendship! [And a small (I was wrong. A very large) degree of violence and shenanigans]

donnie gets amnesia and SO SO MANY shenanigans ensue. also a tiny bit of angst but it's fine

Minor Interference (@bambiraptorx)

The turtles accept Draxum's offer to train them. Little does he know that they're only going to use it mess with him.

haha draxum accidental dad moments... well okay not entirely just yet but he's getting there! the turtles are PEAK teenager literally just causing problems on purpose and it's incredible

Mutant Ninja Midlife Crisis (@mutantninjamidlifecrisis)

In the midst of attempting to make peace with his death at the hands of the Krang, Master Leonardo is suddenly yeeted over two decades into the past, courtesy of his little brother.

YEAAHHH another future leo fic! mans gets dropped into the past and IMMEDIATELY kidnapped and brainwashed so things are going great (it's fine he gets better. you know how it is)

odd man out (@threestripeslider)

The one where Future!Leo somehow managed to luck out on a one in a million mere millisecond chance of a freak glitch in the space-time continuum that sends him back into the present, where the Invasion has been successfully driven back. And it looks like it was a one-way ticket travel.

DAD FUTURE LEO MY BELOVED.... he really took one look at these kids and said is anyone else gonna give them a third (3) dad and did not wait for an answer. also big fan of casey's high school adventures LMAO

Power Up

Leo also gets healing hands like his 2k12 counterpart. Sadly, they end up backfiring on him. Who needs to know though?

leo taking 'it's not about me' to the extreme. good god please get this kid some therapy and self worth. the AGONIES

The Lemonade Leak (@turtleinsoup)

The one in which Leo can’t sleep without his swords, because there is a monster in his room, pretending to be Donnie.

oh man. oh MAN. legit one of my fave fics out there. i'm not usually a big thriller person but this one GETS ME + the way the author writes the different perspectives is just. chefs kiss. genuinely has me on the edge of my seat every single update

The Neon Void

Five years. It's been five years. Hamato Leonardo was back. But he was no longer who he once was.

krangified leo! ... sort of. absolutely delicious angst and also i want to rattle leo's brothers. TALK TO EACH OTHER

Three-Sided Coin (@leglessstreetlights)

Highly self-indulgent fic where I put Leo, Future!Leo, and TurtleTot!Leo in the same room until they hug

what the description says! room is a bit of a stretch and present leo is fresh out of the prison dimension So There's That. some really sweet moments in this one though. tiny leo my beloved

this year we lost our dear brother leonardo

The aftermath of the Krang, and of pulling Leo out of the portal. 90% comfort and silly banter.

this is a series not a single wip but i'm saying it counts because i love it a lot. hope this helps <3 yeah what it says on the tin. immediately post movie family hours you love to see it

Times Five

Leo gets struck by a mystic beam that splits him into five parts of himself; literally.

god the TWIST. still losing my mind over it. the whole thing honestly. lotta dealing with leo's complicated emotions about the invasion and himself, really really good tbh

Write Me Well, My Love, Write Me Weird

When stories start popping up on various media outlets of the Turtleman, New York Cities own personal cryptid, most of the world shrugged. To the citizens of New York? fear, excitement, adoration for this odd and lovable creature. Everyone is quick to share stories and memories of their encounters, much to lament of Turtleman's older brother.

leo and donnie get spotted by humans (more than once) and said humans post about it on social media, as humans tend to do. raph is Not Thrilled. angst (and eventual comfort) ensues

[hausofanya]

cléo reacts to railway on live!

1.3k words of something silly for your troubles. everyone say thank you myah for enabling me !!! mentions of blood bc chan is a freak.

“so. we’re here.”

cléo’s smile is soft as she settles back into her chair, swaying from side to side as she watches the live grow bigger with each tuned in viewer. she looks calmer, more at peace. a long shot from where she was a few years ago.

“hi everyone,” she greets the live serenely. “how are we doing? any life updates? i’ve got a few. im not talking about music, so don’t expect me to spoil anything. i’m excited for the demon slayer movies. if it was possible to order tickets before the movies are even animated, i’d be holding three tickets right now.”

she hums as she regards the comments. “someone asked if i have a tmi. okay. my beloved daughter oreo killed a spider recently and i bought a cat tree to reward her for being braver than me. and in doing so, ran into someone from high school. sweet, right?”

her smile flattens. “wrong. made a complete fool of myself for forgetting they knew i’d previously made a fool of myself in high school. not saying how. but it involves a cat and a bunch of chocolates.” she pauses for a moment and then smiles again. “it’s kinda silly in hindsight. you’re not allowed to ask hyunjin about it either.”

she laughs as the comments boo her, shrugging her shoulders. “‘that doesn’t count as a tmi!’ well that’s too damn bad!”

“another life update—though i guess this does count as talking about music… but anyway.” her grin brightens, excitement visible. “i’m working with the boys on something really cool. it’s been in the works for a while and im super excited for you all to see it. and speaking of…”

turning to the side, she drags her laptop into view and flips the screen up. “we’re watching a certain music video today. think of this segment as chan’s room adjacent. welcome to cléo’s room. and in honor of a certain solo hitting the streets, i’ve been asked to watch and react to it.”

she wiggles her fingers towards the camera before pulling youtube up on her screen. “i’ve been told it’s kinda freaky. to which—”

cléo glances at the camera, unmoved. “red lights exists. drive exists. connected exists. i say this with all the love in the world, but chan is a freak. he is. i can say that. you haven’t seen the worst of it. but anyway.”

cléo hums once more as the comments briefly break in response to what she had just casually shared. “and i know he’s watching this because i told him to tune in. oh! should i say what i’m expecting to see given his track record? yes? yeah? okay.”

she adjusts her glasses before beginning to list off her expectations. “it’s called railway, so i know nothing in the song is going to feature any trains unless used for an innuendo. chains, cause that’s been a common theme across the board. contacts...”

she looks up, a slight grimace tugging at her lips. “can we please retire the contacts. there’s a reason why none of my photocards have contacts. contacts are never seeing me. if you don’t love me with my glasses, you don’t love me at all.”

“anything else? no spoiling, i know you all have already watched it.” cléo taps a nail against the table surface in thought. “maybe a viral scene. a real freaky one. but let’s stop stalling.”

cracking her knuckles, she begins to type—and then pauses.

“so i just typed in the letter ‘r’,” she muses slowly, turning the screen around. “and it’s the first search. y’all must have really enjoyed it. i’m kind of scared, i won’t lie.”

she turns her laptop back around and finishes typing, letting out a soft aha! when she finally had the music video pulled up.

“congrats on two million views already..” she smiles at the camera before connecting her headphones and hitting play…

and already, she’s giggling. she has to pause the video and hide her face for a moment, peeking at the screen a few times in disbelief.

“it’s been exactly four seconds,” she deadpans before cracking up again. “is this a music video or an ad for a new twilight novella?”

the video progress for a handful of seconds before her brows furrow again. “what the— wait. what the f—hell—what is happening—”

cléo’s snort is half amused and half in disbelief, staring at her paused screen before glancing at the live. “i predicted freaky sh—stuff, but this is kinda… okay. vampire media. it’s been twenty-four seconds. got it. okay.”

at the thirty-four second mark, she lets out a sharp laugh. “train innuendo. called it.”

she tries so hard to hold in her laugh, she does. but after hearing two more train innuendos in quick succession after the first one, she bursts into laughter once again, pushing her glasses up to dab at her eyes.

“i’m being so unserious, i’m sorry—i’m sorry,” she utters between giggles, sniffling before squaring her shoulders. “right. it’s been a minute and one second. let’s do this.”

as the seconds tick by, she gives way too serious commentary that has the livestream poke fun at her. thoughts like ‘this is the representation hot topic teens never got’ and ‘this is going to go stellar on fanfiction.net—is that website still around?’ make the chat crash, but she’s having fun and it shows.

she does grimace at the blood drinking a few times, but she makes no comment on that.

until he takes a bite out of his wrist—hand—arm—and spits the blood into another person’s mouth. she slowly closes her laptop to stare at the live.

she doesn’t know whether to gag, laugh, or do a weird mix of both. she’s at a loss for words, truly. and the comments just keep rolling in as she struggles for a few seconds to find her voice again.

“christopher bahng,” she murmurs almost to herself. “the fuck did i just watch?”

brows furrowed as a disbelieving laugh escapes her again, she glances as the comments either laugh at her reaction or tell her to keep going. “keep going? he just spit fucking goo into another person’s mouth! that was thick! y’all cannot be serious—”

she sputters as the comments continue to persuade her. “…alright. okay. i respect artistry.”

she opens the laptop and hits play.

and then closes it again when the person on screen gags on the blood.

“i respect artistry—see, if he had gone the normal rihanna s&m route—”

cléo jokingly scoffs as the live begins to boo her, waving them off. “you all know i’m squeamish. shut up.” she then hits the space button again.

cléo watches the rest of the video with little commentary, only moving to pause the video when the logo for stray kids pops up on the screen. it takes her a while to gather her thoughts. eventually the live gets to impatient and starts a block of text spam hoping to catch her attention. and it does.

“‘cléo and chan railway stage’?” she looks aghast, shaking her head with a laugh. “you’re cute. anyway—”

she clasps her hands with a smile. “so! my thoughts on railway. super duper freaky icky sh—stuff as predicted. train innuendos. he’s three for three on using modes of transportation like that. predicting a mile high club song next. what else…”

her head tilts to the side. “didn’t know he was putting in an audition to be a twilight character, but i think he’d be really good for it. i support artistry. viral scene was definitely… that one, and i don’t have any comments because if i think about it i will gag. sorry to him.”

“it’s a cute horror music video, though! would have loved to see him fight with himself a lot more, to be honest. ending scene was cool. cool music video.”

a short pause. then, to herself, “‘this train never sleeps’? that’s kind of corny…”

“i heard min’s solo was cute. i saw the teaser for it a while back. school concepts are very cute. should i react to that one soon?” she nods slowly as she reads the comments. “say no more.”

she smiles again, waving at the camera. “i’m going to go watch my comfort movie and forget i ever saw this. bye, now!”