#if it was not clear before i'll say it again

[ebodebo]

"Come to bed," Jason calls out, his voice a low murmur as you stand in the bathroom, carefully brushing your teeth. 

He’s lounging shirtless in your shared bed, the sheets barely draped over the sweatpants he’s wearing.

"I'll be there in a minute," you call back, your voice muffled by the toothbrush in your mouth.

He groans at the response, and you giggle.

You're sporting his oversized, worn-out tee that reads, "Property of Gotham City," paired with just a set of daring red panties.

You can feel his eyes on you, his gaze like a warm caress on your skin. In the mirror, you catch him stealing a cheeky view of your panties as the shirt rides up, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Bad boy,” you playfully scold, reaching for a magazine on the back of the toilet and holding it up to browse through.

He throws his head back against the headboard, overwhelmed with despair. "You’re killin’ me, Baby."

You let out a chuckle as you rinse out your mouth, quickly wiping it clean with a towel. Suddenly, you freeze, your eyes locking onto a new article that catches your attention.

You grab the magazine from the counter, feeling the paper crinkle in your grip as you turn to face Jason. He sits upright, his relaxed demeanor radiating an easy confidence.

"Listen to this," you say, clearing your throat with a cough before adopting a playful, sultry news anchor tone as you begin to read the article.

"Red, Hot, and Ready: The audacious vigilante, Red Hood, knocks the charming Nightwing off his pedestal in Gotham Time’s Sexiest Vigilante Poll," you teased, drawing nearer to him.

“Uh-huh. You done?” He drawled, a playful spark dancing in his eyes.

"The majority of pollers found Red Hood's enigmatic presence rather…” you pause, shifting onto the bed and positioning yourself to straddle his lap as you draw closer to him.

His hands find their way to your hips, raising an eyebrow as you lean in closer, holding his gaze without breaking eye contact.

"…alluring," you finish, as Jason makes an amused face. 

"That was…captivating," he sarcastically says, his tone dripping with dry humor.

"I can't believe my boyfriend is a celebrity," you say with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Can you still love a nobody like me with your towering  status?" You question, with a sarcastic inflection that's hard to miss.

"It'll make me look more humble than I already am, so yes," he jokes.

You laugh. "Yes. Oh, so very humble."

He laughs softly as his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently gliding over your bare skin. You lift the magazine again, your eyes quickly scanning the 'Poller's Insight' section.

You can’t help but chuckle, clearly entertained.

"Oh my God. When asked what pollers thought of his rather blunt demeanor, they responded, ‘It’s hot. Like really, really hot,’" you say, grinning widely, your eyes locking back onto his.

“Why are you laughin?’” He asks, adopting a mock-serious tone, his eyes filled with admiration as they gaze intently into yours.

"It's just, so...hilarious," you sputter.

"You jealous you got some competition now?" He quips, fingers greedily gripping the fat of your hips.

"Hah! I'd like to see someone try to deal with you, especially in bed," you cackle.

"You wound me," he jests, with mock outrage.

You grin, casting the magazine aside, bringing your hands to sqeeze his cheeks. "You know what I mean. Baby, you're insatiable."

"I just can't get enough of you," he utters, his pupils dilate as he peers at you.

He is the spitting image of devotion. 

"You're so...perfect," you murmur, finger running down his cheek to easily trace the outline of his lips. "So perfect."

"Seems you're the only one to think that," he mutters, his fingers tracing random shapes into the skin on your hips, eyes moving to glance at your lips.

"That's alright," you begin, tone just above a whisper as your eyes flick over his shamelessly hone in on your lips. 

"You'll be just my perfect boy."

He inhales a deep breath, his fingers stop moving, and his eyes flick back to yours in an instant. You give him a light smile, lightly moving your fingers against his cheek.

He dips his head forward, lips brushing against yours. You lean into him, hand resting on the nape of his neck. His hands move to grip your waist, holding you in place as the kiss becomes more fervent.

You grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slightly before Jason pulls it back down. Your protests die on your tongue as he slips his tongue in your mouth, fingers moving to fiddle with the waistband of your panties, easing them down behind your knees.

He pulls back, reaching for his sweatpants and boxers, which are stretched over his thighs. "Nah. Leave it on. Wanna fuck you in it," he finally mumbles.

Jesus Christ. 

"Okay," you mechanically say, already breathless.

You would do just about anything he told you to.

He grips your waist tight, moving you so you hover over his erect cock. "Ready, Baby?" He asks, eyes locked on yours. 

You grip his shoulders. "Ready," you affirm.

He hisses as he slides his cock into you with much ease. You let out a pathetic whine at the contact. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he grunts, helping you move against him. 

"Ride me, Baby. Ride me," he breathes into your neck.

You let out something of a moan and whine as you place one of your hands over one of his hands positioned on your waist, and the other stays gripping his shoulder for support. 

Your hips move back and forth, his rising to match your rhythm. He leans his head back, releasing an anguished moan in the process, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips.

"Am I doing alright?" You ask with only slight apprehension. 

"Yeah, Baby. Doin' so good—so good," he amends through labored breaths. 

"Yeah?" As you speed up the pace, you retort, desperate to make him feel good. 

"So fuckin' good," he groans, throwing his head and hitting the bed's backboard as you sit completely on him, his cock slipping deeper into you. 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to his Adam's apple as you go up and down on his cock, occasionally grinding down to give your clit some more stimulation. 

His fingers dig into your flesh with much pressure. "Fuck, Baby. I'm gonna—" he grunts.

"Yeah, me too—me too," you affirm, grinding yourself against him until you're wailing his name and he's mumbling curses.

You rest your forehead against him, both of your chests heaving, and sweat gathering around your temples. "We should do that—" you begin, catching your breath "—more often."

He lifts his eyes to look at you, his mouth contorting into a cheeky smile. "I'll do anything you want, Baby," he affirms through ragged breaths. 

"See, you are perfect," you jest, releasing a stifled laugh.

He playfully rolls his eyes, hands moving to get a handful of your ass, grinding you into him a little. You moan at the contact, still sensitive.

"And insatiable," he smirks, flipping you onto your back.

You ready yourself for a long night and can't find it in yourself to be mad about that. 

a/n: another self-indulgent fic🤰<-me rn divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[gojoskikufu]

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗥𝗧 ✰

Summary: “I'm wearing a miniskirt— But why are you the only one— Who doesn't notice?”

You're trying to charm the school's most popular boy along with his other admirers— can you?

𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: Basketball player!Satoru Gojo

𝗖𝗪: female reader intended, reader is trying to seek for Satoru's attention/approval, jealously, self doubt, low self esteem, Gojo avoiding reader like a disease at some parts, Satoru gives you mixed signals, hurt, Mild playboy energy. 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀, Suguru scolding Satoru after acting weird to reader, mild Shoko x reader, lots of smacking from both parties, dirty minded reader.

Part 1 → next..

It was just said it's the universities welcoming of a new semester tomorrow. The athletes and the ones who are going to perform we're handing out their cards— promoting themselves or their group. You had collected almost everyone yet only one poster caught your eye— Satoru's group, formed with Suguru, Choso, Nanami, and Sukuna.

You held the poster in your hands, watching in awe. Then suddenly— “Ouch!” you yelp as you brace the back of your arm, the card falling from your hands as you continue to wince in pain. You just know that, that smack was personal.

You frown before a white haired man enters your perspective, apologizing yet doesn't even sound sincere!— mostly because he keeps giggling after, probably laughing at your face. You can't help but frown at him, "WHAT IS EVEN WRONG WITH YOU!" You can't help but yell at him, he doesn't even answer, leaving with his friends immediately. You try your best not to sob your anger out, the poster long forgotten as you run back to the dorms— running to Shoko.

"Shokooo..." You whine, rolling on your top bunk, "what is it again?" You hear Shoko groan, her fingers rapidly tapping on her phone screen repeatedly. "My back still hur-" she cuts you off by clearing her throat. "I'm not massaging your back, dumbass. Who even smacked you that hard?", "I don't 'nowww..", "then don't complain, I'm not a detectiv-"

you cut her off too, "no, do you not care about me anymore, shoshokoko?" You purposely whine, "I do," she pauses, her tone lowering as she gets seriously invested in the conversation. "but you're kind of acting stewped right now, do you get me?", "WHATT??", "yes, now please, shut up."

"Hmph, Shokooo." She drops her chopsticks on top of her bowl, "Whaaaaaat?" She mocks your whining, eliciting a groan from you. "I now remember who smacked me." You proudly grinned, "a white hair, and as tall as the Eiffel tower.", "get specific.." she glares at you, "and he kind of looks like the one in posters.. he looks good." She doesn't reply, the silence deafening, "Shoko, can you at least talk?"

"No. You have a crush on someone's grandpa, am I right?" She finally talks. Her hand grasps on the cold glass of water beside her, taking sips. "No, how on earth would someone's grandpa smack me so hard, and why would he wear a jersey-"

Shoko spits out her water, looking at you in disbelief, "Shokooo, that's disgusting!" You grab a tissue, "shut up, no actually, shut up. YOU MEAN THAT SATORU SMACKED YOU?" She draws a hand over her chest, acting like a sick Victorian child.

"Who tf is Satoru??" You continue to grab tissues, cleaning her mess. "His hands as heavy as foook, no wonder why you keep saying it hurts!", "Shoko!, you're describing it like it's dirty!" You shoot the used paper in the trash bin, a scowl visible on your face. "I'll tell you, I have a lot of things I know about that menace." You think she's sarcastic yet the seriousness in her tone says otherwise.

It's now the morning the welcoming starts— instruments spreads throughout the whole campus, starting a melody— a horrendous one in your opinion— Shoko agrees. 7AM on the dormitory rooms clock yet the peace had been disturbed by some cheers.

You groan, laying on your side as you grab a pillow to mask your uncovered ears— trying to mask the annoying music. "You know, girl— you should get up now-" you cut her off, "noo, I wanna sleep, it's too early." You whine. "7am isn't even early, get up and take a bath.", "are you telling me I stink?", "no, but you need to freshen up, dumbass.."

"11AM," Shoko answers your question, "at 12PM, another parade happens with majorettes.", "damn it, when will the players play?," "the basketball ones?", "yeah", "around 7pm." You glare at her as she casually answers, "what's your appropriate reason for waking me up at 7AM.." you managed to keep your cool, a sigh leaving your lips as you frown. "Get that scowl off your face, you're going to get wrinkles." You feel pointed out, smacking her behind her head— gently yet forcibly. "You're offending me, dumbass." You punctuate.

Someone yells just behind where you and Shoko we're sitting. "Yo!, What's up, Shoko!?" A man's voice rang out making Shoko — and you, who is a little bit curious. "It's the white haired man!" Shoko immediately glares at you, a chuckle eliciting from you nervously.

"Oh damn, I didn't know you were friends with a fine shyt- ouch man, what's wrong with you..?" You hear him yelp, your eyes darting to meet the man behind him— long black hair, and is almost as tall as the one with white locks, he smiles at you before dragging the other with him. You look at both of them, the black haired one seemingly scolding the one with the white locks. "What's wrong with them, Shoko?" You can't help but ask, you turn your head to Shoko, finding her leaning close to you, you jump. "Dumbass, there's dust on your hair" she casually reasons. "Then remove it appropriately!", "you're thinking dirty.."

A/n: I feel like this sucks

@byerno6 @ctmaw @luna-night27@nxgiswife @haruhatake@missroro @drowninginhiscxm @honeybubblepopp @kazupop @rav3v4mp @boothillglazer @ultgojo @Kittieto @peachhiz @soul-trivia @fredjas @I30nya @gorgeousgust @feralfortojidotcom @byakuya61085 @00-meat @levislug @penguingirlanzu @n1vi @urrvso @moonchhu @ravenbc @stxrlingpearl @sunariin @yourfavbunni @artist1936 @doechiiyz @anonnieghost @hello-its-squishymingi @ultgojo @itzkawaiix

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Xavier Where Did You Go?

What if Starfall forest won? What if the stars were rewritten only to have a few constellations missing? A/N: Did some editing and this really didn’t end up being that sad in my opinion but I hope you enjoy ☺️

Starfall Forest. You hate this place with a burning passion, but you keep coming here year after year without fail almost like you have to or else you might forget. The trees are still standing tall with their leaves rustling in the slight breeze. Spring is here and the forest is more alive than ever; you wish I could say the same. Time has been unkind to you yet this damned forest that took everything from you flourishes with unbending beauty. How can something so beautiful torment you with such ugly memories?

I hate you.

You take deep breaths and squeeze your fist tightly trying to will any tears to fall. Maybe if just a few of them fall again this emptiness in the pit of your stomach won’t feel so heavy. As always…..nothing. You've wrung yourself dry; You haven’t cried in a little over a year yet the scar attached to the memory of him leisurely eats away at your soul endlessly. You can’t handle the concerned looks and talks of professional help anymore. You haven’t lost your mind you're grieving and no one understands; how could they? This is the only place that makes you feel like you're any closer to him. You make it to the clearing that looks exactly as it did last year. And the year before.....

And the year before.....

The trees unbending the grass as green and plush as ever and the water dancing mischievously almost like it’s laughing at you. You kneel down to watch the water closely and the second you catch your reflection in the water a single tear falls. Cascading down your cheek and disappearing into the water reminding you how insignificant all of this is. You take your usual seat at the waters edge and pull your legs up to hug your knees. The silence is nice – well it was nice “I told you not to follow me”

You hear her breath audibly hitch behind you “I’m really worried about you”

You stared ahead not really looking at anything just letting your thoughts and the sound of the forest consume you. The last thing you needed were Tara’s watery doe eyes staring back at you with that same damn look everyone gives you. “So you’ve said many times” You sighed “I don’t need another lecture about getting help and I don’t want to be told that I'll be okay” You fiddled with the grass at your side not taking your eyes off the endless trees ahead. “I’m trying to forget him if that’s what you wanted to hear”

Tara laid down her jacket and took a seat next to you. You could see her concerned face in your peripheral “I want my best friend back” There’s a quiver in her voice that breaks your heart. You want to go back to normal, but you can’t. You remember everything even the memories that belong to someone else. You're cursed to wander now with past memories of a future that doesn’t exist.

“Tell me what happened” You gasp snapping my head in her direction. She gave you a sad smile and nodded “I’m all ears”

You know she won’t believe a word you say, but she’s the first person in four long years offering to listen. “I lost him right here” You drop your gaze and smooth my hand over the grass. “Right where you’re sitting actually”

4 Years Earlier…

“Xavier snap out of it! Look at me” You grab his face shaking it. His eyes are vacant as he stares at you – he looks like a shell of himself. “Xavier!” finally he blinks rapidly registering that you're standing in front of him. “You…” He’s dead weight in your arms as he falls to his knees dragging you down with him. “You…..need to leave” His breath is ragged and you can feel him slipping away. “I’m not leaving you! Tell me what to do I can help”

“Starfall….Forest will stop…..when it has enough power” Is that all it needs? He should have said something sooner you can use the aether core. “The aether core should be more than enough” You press your hand to his chest and pull him close.

Look at the clock and slowly let my eyes wander to him….

“You had a hooligan in your eye…..” What?

“They think we’re rivals….”

“Grandis Knight….”

“I’ve come back….”

“My star has left me….”

“You always lie….”

Fractured memories are flooding your brain as you resonate with Xavier in this moment. These aren’t your memories, but everything feels like deja vu. Your body is going numb as your muscles seem to lock into place with all of these memories just as you feel like you might pass out there’s a sharp pain in your chest. Your evols disperse and nothing, but soft wind caresses your face. A horrible cough rips through your throat and a copper tasting liquid seeps out from between your lips. Your body is heavy and it takes you a minute to realize you're no longer kneeling in front of Xavier; you're laying flat on your stomach while Xavier lies next to you. His breath is ragged as his evol continues to be drained by the forest. It wasn’t enough and telling by the pain radiating through your chest you've cracked the core in your heart.

You struggle to reach out and grab Xavier’s hand that’s also reaching for yours. He lazily intertwines his fingers with yours and you could see the love and pain in his eyes as the color drained from them. “I couldn’t protect you last time and I couldn’t …. protect you here …. either” He draws in a long breath and exhales on a dry cough. You're crying uncontrollably now because you remember everything.

“You left me Xavier” His eyes widen at your words. “You left me on Philos to come here” You draw in a ragged breath. “Why….” I can feel the warm embrace of deaths comforting hands slowly wrapping around me.

“You’re not a sacrifice I….” His eyelids drooped and closed for half a second too long before he opened them again “I needed to save ….. you” His eyes closed once more and you can feel his hand going cold. Your head is swimming with all this new information and it’s only making your death more agonizing with the pain of your brain trying to break free from your skull.

“You deserve….better Xav….in another life.…maybe….” You don’t have the strength to finish your sentence – just breathing was hard enough. Your heart is failing so you close your eyes – just for a moment – trying to find some kind of comfort. Nothing hurts anymore you must be on the brink by now. You're unable to open your eyes now just floating in a painless but simultaneously suffocating death. You died holding Xavier’s hand in his last moments the same way he held yours on Philos. Maybe you can love Xavier correctly in the next life.

In another life Xavier maybe you won’t have to sacrifice yourself for me. Maybe you won’t be alone.

Endless dark skies and stars float ahead of you just out of reach. This must be the end – you're crossing over. Suddenly you're being shaken awake you open your eyes to see Tara and Jenna kneeling in your face. They look like they’ve just seen a ghost; wide eyes and they’re yelling something. Everything sounds like it's underwater so it's hard to make out what they're saying.

“Over here!”

“We’ve got her!”

“Paramedics we need paramedics!”

“Hurry! She’s going cold”

You're still laying on you stomach with blood pouring from your mouth. Your eyelids are heavy and their words are still muffled as they try to comfort you. “It’s okay help is coming” You feel the weight of someones hands on your body moving you onto a stretcher.

“Xa…Xav….” They need to help Xavier too why are they only focused on me? He needs help save him not me please. “You’re going to be fine” Jenna says as the paramedics strap you down onto the stretcher to keep you stable.

No Xavier is dying help him!

You manage the tilt your head just enough so you can see him, but there’s no one there. Not even a sign that anyone was next to you.

Where did he go? Did they already get to him? I hope so….

“Did y-……” It’s no use all you can do is let your tears flow as you stare at the ceiling of the ambulance hoping he’s safe and being taken care. You're told to try not to talk; you can’t talk no matter how hard you try anyway. An oxygen mask is forced on your face and soon you go under again letting your brain shut down to heal itself.

You spent two months in the hospital and not a single visit from Xavier. He must be mad at you for telling him that he deserves better. That will all be fixed today though because you're finally cleared to go home. Lisa, Simone and Tara are all there to pick you up – you lightly jog over to them pulling them into a group hug. You pile into the car and head towards your place.

“You guys can go right in I have to go see someone real quick” You unlock your front door for them and head towards the elevator. You ignore all the hoots and whistles from them and flip them off while the doors close. You all, but run to get to Xaviers door you need to see him now; you need to make it up to him or you won’t be able to rest. You type the code in and the door beeps at you indicating the wrong code. “Did he change it?” You opt to knock on the door and your heart is pounding as you stand there waiting impatiently to see his handsome face.

The door slowly opens and you see an elderly lady looking up at you. Your brows furrow in confusion and you lean back to check the apartment number just to make sure you didn’t knock on the wrong door. No this is his apartment so who is this old lady? “Hi uhm I was looking for Xavier?” The old lady eyes you skeptically before sighing loudly. “Look kiddo whoever you’re looking for doesn’t live here I've lived here for forty years and I've never had anyone named Xavier come through here”

“I’m sorry?” Your heart just about dropped to your toes. What is she talking about?

“Have a nice day young lady I hope you find who you’re looking for” You could barely register her words before the door clicked shut in your face. Forty years? How could she have lived there for forty years? You wander back to your apartment in what feels like a daze. As soon as you get through the door your friends rush to you with concern on their faces.

“Are you ok?”

“What happened?”

“Come sit down”

“Does Xavier still work at the Hunter’s Association?” All three of them immediately freeze and glance at each other in confusion. Lisa takes a seat next to you and she’s looking at you like she doesn’t know what you're talking about. “Who?” You draw back in shock – your mouth opens and closes trying to find words for what's even happening. “Xavier you know six one light blonde hair always sleepy” Your eyes dart to each one of their faces and you can tell by the way Simone fidgets with her fingers and the way Tara avoids your eyes all together; they think you're spouting nonsense. “Why are you guys acting like this?”

“Us?” Simone jumps in “Babes we have no clue who you’re talking about” She tilts her head searching your eyes. For what? You have no clue. “Are you feeling okay you did overdue it on our last mission”

You spring up from the couch on the verge of a breakdown because you feel like you're losing your mind. “What mission? I was in the forest with Xavier we got pulled into a protofield and then…..then I was…..he” You're crying uncontrollably at this point — shaking violently at the memories that taunt your psyche.

“It was just you in that protofield” Lisa says softly; she’s standing next to you now rubbing your back. “There wasn’t anyone else there” You can’t handle this right now. You quickly escort your friends out of your apartment saying that you need some rest. You slam the door reveling in the silence as you try to calm your nerves while your heart is pounding in your chest.

For weeks you tried asking everyone who knew Xavier where he was, but everyone looked at you with the same concerned and confused look. They think you're going crazy, you're not, he was real you know he was your memories of him are so vivid.

Xavier where did you go?

Present day….

Tara sat quietly as you recounted everything that’s led you to this life of solitude now. “Reality didn’t truly set in until I saw the abandoned building where Jeremiahs flower shop was” A laugh slipped from your lips, but there was no amusement. “I know you think I'm crazy and I'm fine with that” You turn to see Tara digging in her bag for something — she turns back to you and holds out a tablet with a news story titled ‘CELESTIAL BODY PLANET FOUND THROUGH DEEPSPACE TUNNEL ; KING OF PHILOS MAKES CONTACT’

“Why are you sh—” My breath hitches in my throat when I see it. The icy blonde haired boy off to the left. His eyes are hollow and distant as he stares straight ahead. No sign of emotion not even a hint of a smile.

It’s Xavier.

“You were always talking about this Philos place and I saw this” Tara wrapped an arm around you squeezing you in a quick side hug. “Im guessing this is your mystery man?” You stare at the picture for what feels like an eternity. Your vision blurs as a wave of relief washes through you. You knew you weren’t crazy he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Your tears splash onto the screen and you're hiccuping from the overwhelming emotions pouring out of you. Thats when it hits you that you’ve switched places…..

Xavier forgot me….

The consequences of him forgetting you made it so that your future with him never happened. Which means he never backtracked to try and save you. You scramble to your feet just needing to sort out your thoughts by moving. “I have to get to Philos” Your words rush out of you sounding more like gibberish rather than English.

“That planet is dying we’ve been instructed to steer clear of it” Tara brought up a memo on the tablet explaining all the dangers of the tunnel and which planets we’re not allowed to go to. He’s just within your reach, but he's already slipping from your grasp.

Is this what he felt for all those years? You shake your head unable to accept this “I’m going I have to” You turned on your heels – storming off – determined to start planning this excursion to Philos.

Xavier I'm coming for you just wait for me a little longer.

[lucifermorningstxr]

Hearing that Chloe hadn't hated Lucifer at all throughout the last nine months was maybe the most healing thing he'd heard in a long time, and that was saying a ton since this entire night had been incredibly cathartic for him. He'd known about his behaviour two years ago and had long made up for it, but as of late, he'd thought there was no real reconciliation, so it felt like Heaven on Earth to hear that from his human. "Right, well, you have no idea how that makes me feel. At the risk of being far too sappy once more, I'll simply say thank you, Detective. And in turn, I'd like you to know I could never hate you. I can be hurt, I can be upset, but I can never hate you. Far from it. I..." He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Chloe's inquiry about Candy. He hadn't told her about that yet? Well, here it goes. "Yes! Well, partially. I met her at a club where she'd picked my wallet and lifted my ring to pay debts on said club inherited from her father. I was impressed with her skills, although nobody steals from the Devil. So, I met with her privately to discuss our issues, and we agreed to help one another. I'd pay off her debts if she married me and agreed to keep tabs on my mother. It was a mutual agreement, but an agreement... a deal... nonetheless." Lucifer tucked Chloe's hair behind her ear before adding one last line. "Oh, and by the way, the only reason I ran off to Vegas is because you nearly died, and I blamed myself because it was my fault. So, I thought I was protecting you by leaving. Anyway, I couldn't stop talking about you with Candy the entire time. That's the foundation on which we built our deal. There you have it. The whole story."

"Yes, I want to be with you, Detective. Only you, with no sharing on either side. I'm not quite sure if you picked up on it, but I bloody hated Pierce besides the Cain thing, because he had you and I didn't. I hate any guy who has you instead of me. I'd tell you to ask Dr. Martin, but that'd probably be in violation of some confidentiality laws. So, ask anyway." He smirked. "Seriously, I want you, Detective, and I don't dare what we're doing. Watching Buffy here, playing the piano there, solving crimes anywhere... I just want to be with you, Detective. That is my truest desire."

"We can do whatever it is that you desire." Lucifer smirked once again, booking Chloe's nose playfully. "As long as we're together, I'd do literally anything. And that's the Dad-honest truth."

Lucifer knew he'd fucked up, but he didn't know how bad it was until tonight. As everything came flowing out into the open, communicating as only they ever could with one another in the spirit of true vulnerability, all he wanted was to fix things between them and put to bed any and all of his bad behaviour once and for all. "Right, we had that chat last night and that's what I began thinking of ending things. But what you may not know is..." Lucifer adjusted himself against Chloe so that he could look extra deep into her eyes as he continued. "I only entered back into this relationship because I thought you were through with me. The night Eve arrived, I was distraught about you, about us, and I thought... 'why the Hell not?' Because the truth is, I didn't think I deserved any better. I knew we were as perfect a match as we presented to be all along, but I didn't think I could do any better. The only woman I truly wanted, I thought she hated me to the core." He adjusted himself once more, this time in a reassuring fashion toward his human. "I'm sorry I hurt you with Candy, Detective. I... it was a strange time, but I never meant to hurt you. I've never meant to hurt you, and I can assure you a situation like that won't happen again, especially with Eve. And if it's just a quick favour, like it was in part with Candy... I'll bring it to you first."

The Devil having a consultant? Only for Chloe.

As Chloe's eyes teared up, Lucifer gently rubbed her face with his thumb to soothe her. He knew it was largely happy tears, relieved tears even, but such emotion still warranted comfort. "I've never preferred monogamy, but I suppose that's because I've never had anyone I liked enough. Everyone is fun for a night, for a drink or for a shag, but they quickly bore me and I'm onto the next. Yet, with you... here we are, four years later, and I'm still with you. We see each other every day and I'm the farthest from bored. I suppose the shoe isn't only interesting, but it's the most interesting. An exquisitely designed custom Louboutin, if you will."

Lucifer smirked, laughing with Chloe as they separated their lippy embrace and continued their discussion. "Right, well excuse the Hell out of me for preserving my ego!" He was playful in his response, but his smile showed sincerity. "Of course there was truth to it. I'm a staunch believer that even the wildest of blue humour has kernels of truth to it. Perhaps my jokes had as many kernels as a cinema when a bloody Marvel film debuts, but I knew it was all one-sided, at least at the time. If you'd prefer to call it unrequited advances, be my guest, Detective. But for the sake of my ego at the time, they were jokes based in fact. In my own truest desire."

[gyaruhana]

Thanos with a piss kink? Idk I feel like he’d have one.

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Piss kink Headcannons

Synopsis: piss kink headcannons

A/N: hands down the craziest request I've gotten so far. dw I will serve you well !!

Warning: ..piss kink- need i say more?

➠ Piss kink thanos huh?

➠ prolly discovered he liked that shit when he made you cum and you pissed as well

➠ He likes to degrade you so when you did that he got so hard because holy fuck you pissed and that was so fucking dirty of you

➠ calls you a slut for pissing on his cock and highkey slaps you

➠ he will make you suck his cock clean right after

➠ If he's feeling extra mean, he might actually piss on you and talk about some "how's that feel, huh? think twice before you piss on my cock again you fucking whore,"

➠ He lowkey loves it because it's an excuse to be rough with you and punish you.

➠ He'll say he doesn't but he makes a point of trying to fuck you before you go to the bathroom

➠ If he's eating you out and you piss in his mouth he MIGHT !! crash out

➠ Immediately hovers over you and makes you open your mouth before spitting into it so you can get a taste of it.

➠ do expect to be severly edged after you piss in his mouth !!

➠ He will finger you for hours or eat you out and trust me when i say he will (gently) bite your clit

➠ Overall, pretends he don't like that shit but he secretly does

"..You fucking whore. Did you just piss on my cock?" he says as he immediately pulls out of you. You open your mouth to apologize but a swift slap across the face shuts you up. He grabs you by the hair and pulls you up to your knees with the clear intent to punish you. He brings your chest close to his cock before he starts to jerk himself off quickly - his head thrown back as he thinks about how fucking hot it would be to cover you in his cum and piss. "Since you wanna be a dumb slut and piss on my cock, I'll fucking piss on you too,"

[ledesaid]

"Does anyone else want dessert? ╚░╚

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Indigestion

A word unknown to Billy until about twenty minutes ago. Dinner at the Kent house, according to Clark, tended to end with all the guests completely and totally full.

Billy prayed to Ares that nothing would befall humanity for the next few days. It would be a real miracle if he could pronounce the wizard's name in that state.

"Does anyone want dessert?"

Billy practically fell asleep at the kitchen table.

"Oh heavens, Martha, the boy can't take anymore."

"No problem, Billy, a good piece will be waiting for you at breakfast."

The nearly adolescent boy thanked them tiredly and couldn't argue when Clark took him to his old room. He vaguely heard Clark say he'd sleep in Conner's room and everything faded before his full stomach.

The morning surprised him with a spectacular aroma and his feet led him to a table full of pancakes and scrambled eggs with bacon.

"Good morning, Billy! Come sit down. Jonathan and Clark are returning from the market, and while they arrive, you can eat the strawberry pie from yesterday, it only had that cover."

Billy took the pie; the soft and fluffy crust finally melted in his mouth. It was the first time his mouth had salivated for one to this extent.

"It's delicious, Mrs. Kent."

"Please, just call me Martha or Mom, that's how Clark's friends know me."

"I'll try to remember, Mrs. Martha."

It had been a long time since he referred to someone as his mother, not since he was four years old, but he didn't want an old memory to ruin his stay.

He was at peace. He wasn't have much to do back in Fawcett.

With the mayor taking care of installing the new social help center, Billy could shorten his rounds in the city and, happily, his shift at the League was starting in two days. The Watchtower, after seven years of service, had fallen, but that’s a story for another day.

Billy had noticed he had anemia from reducing his food rations. The spacial buffet had ended abruptly, a hard blow to Billy’s budget.

Returning to his routine to resupply was harder than expected... and the curious fact that the captain could show symptoms of his clear malnutrition made Clark try many ways to invite him to eat with his family... Had he known how well his mother cooked, he would have accepted that invitation years ago.

Krypto barked.

In less time than he expected, everyone had breakfast, but Billy swore the food on his plate multiplied and he ended up back on the living room sofa taking a quick rest.

"Does anyone want flan?"

At some point in his nap, Billy wanted to try it, but he fell asleep again.

Clark woke him up wearing overalls.

"Do you want to learn how to milk a cow? I can meet you the new calf."

"Of course!"

Time passed so quickly that Billy found himself sitting again at the Kent house table enjoying a pork chop, too juicy... Billy wondered if that’s how they should taste, but his stomach made a decision, that definitely had to be the standard for chops.

"Does anyone want chocolate cake?"

That Martha had prepared that cake and Billy forgot he had to leave immediately thinking about eating it at dinner was a coincidence. One that repeated for the next days, weeks, months... Maybe Billy realized it wasn't a coincidence, but he had already been living with the Kents for practically three years.

"Does anyone else want dessert?"

Billy was sure he did.

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 14

Chapter 13 His Side Story

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

(...What is this...?)

The moans of people bring a raw vividness to the temple, a dwelling for the mysteries of life.

In the outer plaza, likely once a gathering place for people, many injured were being treated by a man in white.

The man, presumably a doctor, wore a sand-shielding garment fastened with a pin shaped like a unicorn.

Basil was also bustling about nearby, but he straightened up the moment he saw Azel.

Azel: Basil, Sinan. I'll be stepping out for a bit. Can I leave things here to you?

Basil: Leave it to me!

Sinan: It's nothing too serious, you don't have to worry.

Exchanging only the most necessary words, Azel quickly heads towards the desert.

The injured people offer prayers, but the Living God shows no sign of concern.

(It seems like this isn't our destination.)

I hurry my steps, and as usual, run to keep pace beside him.

Emma: What happened?

Azel: If I had to say...

Azel: The beginning of the end... I suppose?

-

Entering the city as if to avoid attention, Azel steps into the Tourist Board building through the back door.

There is no sign of anyone around, as if it had been prearranged...

He finally stops when we reach the upper floor.

Azel: This is a good spot, isn't it? It's a special place where you can look down on the city without being seen.

Azel, with a compassionate smile, gestures towards the window.

I had already noticed something was amiss before even looking.

The city of Tanzanite is always enveloped in hustle and bustle, but even now, the sounds that reach us are rough.

(Angry shouts, cries, screams, praying voices...)

I cautiously peek out the window – and there, spread out before me, is a scene exactly as I had imagined from the sounds alone.

Azel: It's like a war, isn't it?

In the middle of the main street leading to the castle, a multitude of people are engaged in a brawl.

It's not a war with weapons, but the sight of them hitting and cursing each other is grotesque.

Tanzanite soldiers are already trying to intervene, but they are too few in number to handle it.

Emma: Prince Azel, we have to stop them!

Azel: Why?

Emma: Why...?

Azel: If a God intervenes in human actions, it becomes domination, not mediation.

Azel: But I have no intention of dominating. It's too much trouble.

Eyes, mystical and holding the starry sky within, coldly and cruelly look down on the "small battlefield" where dust is rising.

The sight of him with his lips curled up sends a shiver down my spine.

(He has no intention of stopping it.)

(If that's the case – ...)

As I turn on my heel, I'm roughly grabbed by the back of my collar.

Azel: What can you do even if you go?

Emma: I can provide first aid.

Azel: ...Tch, that's right.

Emma: Then–

Azel: Wait, wait, wait. I won't let you go.

Azel: – ...It's dangerous.

(... ? I thought I heard something, but I couldn't make it out clearly with all the commotion.)

Azel clears his throat as if to regain his composure and opens his mouth again.

Azel: I'd like to say do as you please, but I didn't bring you here to mediate.

Azel kept his hand on my collar and cast his gaze outside once more.

His profile, with only a beautiful smile gracing it, was devastatingly handsome and held an unfathomable sacredness.

(What is this...? The atmosphere around him is different from usual.)

(He's always had a bad personality, but he's completely different from the ultimately good-natured God I know....)

Azel: Why do you think people fight?

Emma: ...Does it have something to do with the fake diviners?

Azel: That was just the trigger.

Azel: What's happening before your eyes now is a public lynching of heretics...

Azel: Or, to put it simply, a conflict between those who believe in God and those who harbor distrust.

(That's...)

*flashback*

Luke: At first, people might think it's just the diviner's fault.

Luke: But, if the same thing starts happening to every diviner...

Luke: They'll start to think the problem lies elsewhere.

*flashback over*

(This means that the concerns Clavis and Luke had have become a reality.)

If the foundation of faith is shaken, a country built on the mysteries of God cannot remain unscathed.

Azel: As the number of fake diviners increases, people's faith wavers.

Azel: I am a God, but my appearance is no different from a human's.

Azel: The only difference is that I can foresee the future of people.

Azel: An infallible, miracle-working diviner is revered as a God solely because of that one point.

Azel: But if that mystery disappears, I'm nothing more than a human.

Azel: Does God's protection truly exist? Once one person starts to doubt, it spreads like an infectious disease.

I can't sense any emotion from Azel, who speaks dispassionately, to an unnatural degree.

Rather than the figure who envelops everything with a compassionate smile, he now, with an unreadable smile, seems more like an "inhuman God."

Azel: Naturally, there are also forces that want to stop this.

Azel: The conflict between the two sides gradually surfaced, and finally, it has come to this.

Azel: Don't you find it comical?

Azel: Just a slight fraying of faith in God, and the country collapses into such chaos.

Azel: I find it incredibly amusing.

(Who is this before me?)

A chill creeps up from my feet at his unusual cruelty.

Whether the figure I've seen until now was an illusion, or whether the Azel here now is an illusion – either way, I feel like I'm having a terrible dream.

Emma: ...Many people are getting hurt right before your eyes.

Azel: So what? I told you before, didn't I? I'm tired of humans.

Azel: If you want to say that God is a merciful being, don't make me laugh.

Azel: I don't care what happens to mortals.

(What's an illusion, and what's real...?)

(If both versions of Azel are real, it's a contradiction.)

(If the outline of the God I thought I grasped was all a mirage... then what remains after the illusion disappears?)

Azel: More importantly, look closer.

Azel: You... no, Rhodolite, wanted to know the mystery of the Triple Alliance, right?

Azel: The answer is right before your eyes, are you going to miss it?

(Within this commotion...? )

Looking down at the city again, the situation had changed slightly.

The High Priest stood before the people, appeasing them in place of God.

Even though a riot was occurring, it seemed that faith had not been completely eradicated, and both believers and non-believers were gradually regaining their composure.

(The alliance with Ruby and Acroite, which includes military elements, and this commotion...)

(They seem completely unrelated.)

Azel: ...That rotten geezer's intervention was quicker than I expected. I think it would have been fine to let them suffer a little more.

Emma: ......

Azel: Don't look at me like that. Haven't you ever touched a hot pot as a child?

Azel: Adults know that a pot on the fire is hot. So they never try to touch it.

Azel: But children don't understand that. They only realize it's hot and dangerous after getting burned.

Emma: ...So this incident is also about "learning" only after getting hurt?

Azel: Exactly. It would be best if both sides learned.

Azel: That there's no problem that can be solved by hitting and cursing each other.

(I sort of understand what you're saying, but........)

Emma: ...Why did you show me this scene, Prince Azel?

(I don't understand the reason.)

(It can't be to give me a hint about the Triple Alliance...)

Azel sighed as if exasperated and grabbed my head firmly.

Azel: Don't ask me everything, use that tiny head of yours to think a little.

(Huh, he's back to his usual self...?)

Perhaps thanks to the commotion outside settling down, the cruel God returned to being a mean God, shaking my head left and right.

Emma: Stop shaking me!

Azel: My apologies. I wanted to know how much brain is actually packed into your head.

Emma: It might not be as full as yours, Prince Azel.

Emma: But...

I grab the hand placed on my head and forcefully pull it away.

Emma: I'm certainly not stupid.

The hand I grasped was trembling slightly.

(A riot with bloodshed is the kind of thing Azel hates the most.)

(Even with that cruel look on his face, I know he never wished for this to happen.)

Azel shakes off my hand and glares at me with disgust.

Compared to his previous cold gaze, this one seemed more human and not scary – but his sudden laughter makes me wonder if something is going on.

Azel: Is it your sharp wild intuition, or Silvio's advice...? It must be the latter, without a doubt.

(...!)

Footsteps other than ours gradually grew louder, and Luke appeared from around the corner of the hallway.

Azel raising both his hands and Luke drawing his sword and pointing its tip happened almost simultaneously.

Emma: Luke, what are you doing!?

Luke: Get away from Emma.

Azel: How frightening. It's as if I've become an evil God.

Azel: But, is this really alright? This will surely become a diplomatic issue.

Luke: ...Answer me, evil God.

Luke: Did you orchestrate this uproar?

Emma: He absolutely did not!

Azel: Yes, that's impossible... why are you the one insisting so strongly?

When I stepped between Azel and Luke, the tip of the sword was finally withdrawn.

(Honestly, my mind is in chaos.)

(I can tell Luke is angry, but I have no idea why.)

Luke: He's dangerous, Emma.

Emma: You're the one who's dangerous, Luke.

Azel: How strange. Your ally isn't me, it's Luke, isn't it?

Azel: He's caught a whiff of some "truth" and is pointing his sword at me.

Azel: On the other hand, it doesn't make sense for you to be defending me.

Emma: ...Am I not allowed to defend you?

Emma: Whether you're an evil God or a fraud, I've never wanted you to get hurt.

Azel: ...

Clavis: Haha, Luke, that's enough. If you take off the God's head, ours will go flying too, you know?

Clavis, who appeared late, put a hand on Luke's shoulder and pulled him back as if to make him stand down.

It seemed Luke wasn't truly serious after all, as he obediently sheathed his sword.

Azel: It's already too late, you know?

Clavis: My apologies, please forgive him. It seems Luke is a little shaken by your country's unique culture.

Clavis takes a pouch from his pocket and tosses it to Azel.

From the sound, it seemed to be filled with coins.

Clavis: Is that not enough?

Azel: No, I appreciate you being so straightforward.

(...He's forgiving him with money.)

Azel: You have business with Emma, right?

Azel: I'll be heading back first. I'm not interested anymore.

True to his word, Azel passes by Luke with no lingering attachment and leaves.

He didn't even glance at me.

Luke: For now, let's change locations.

-

Silvio: So why are ya coming to my room?

Clavis: Out of all of us, you're the one who knows Prince Azel the best, right?

Clavis, who entered Silvio's room as if he owned the place, placed the local alcohol he bought at the market on the table.

Clavis: Look, I even brought souvenirs!

Silvio: This alone will only cover the information fee from earlier.

Clavis: Haha, I'll thank you for that matter. You knew well that the Tourist Board was one of the God's bases?

Silvio: I often have business discussions with the God there, too.

Silvio, seemingly having no intention of driving away his sudden guests, sits down on the long sofa by the window.

Silvio: If you're goin' to thank me, give me a more interesting story.

Silvio: For example, the truth behind the explosion that happened the other day?

Emma: There was an explosion at the castle?

Clavis: Why are you looking at me so readily?

Emma: Because you have a prior record.

(But even Clavis wouldn't go so far as to bomb another country's castle –)

Luke: You're right, Emma.

Emma: I didn't want to be right!

Clavis: Haha, well, there were unavoidable circumstances.

Clavis: But if it's known that I was the culprit, it will become a diplomatic issue. This stays between us, alright?

Clavis put his index finger to his lips, and Silvio and Luke sighed in unison.

Emma: Where did you bomb?

Clavis: The place where the High Priest gives his esteemed sermons.

Emma: You bombed such a place!?

Clavis: I did, indeed.

(Unbelievable.)

Luke: There was no time to stop him.

Clavis: You mean there was no intention to stop me, right?

Silvio: ...Your diplomatic skills are somethin' else.

Clavis: Haha, don't praise me, don't praise me. I'll get embarrassed.

Silvio: That's sarcasm, you idiot.

Silvio: Was it such an unbearable sermon?

Clavis: Hmm... well, the content of the talk itself was quite interesting.

Clavis: I didn't know there was something called the "Prophecy of the End" from the first Living God.

(The End...)

*flashback*

Emma: ...Before I lost consciousness, the man was saying...

Emma: "Has God abandoned us?"

Emma: "The day of reckoning is near..."

*flashback over*

(I didn't expect to hear that word again in a place like this.)

Clavis: The main point of the gathering was that people had to unite to escape this "End."

Clavis: But that's not the issue.

Clavis takes a small bottle from his pocket.

I unconsciously braced myself, but it wasn't an explosive bottle. It contained something like a dried piece of wood.

Clavis: Do you know what this is?

Silvio: It's fragrant wood, right?

Clavis: Yes. This fragrant wood itself isn't harmful, but it has a drug coated on its surface.

Clavis: When burned in an incense burner, it induces a mild state of intoxication.

Emma: Isn't that dangerous?

Clavis: Haha, well, it's probably not enough to be banned.

Clavis: But what do you think happens when people are told how wonderful God is while their thinking isn't normal?

With those words, a terrifying thought suddenly runs through my mind.

(...It reminds me of that person.)

(Controlling people with fear, paralyzing their thoughts, and then forcing them to accept his demands.)

(That genius of domination who has ravaged many countries...)

*She's referring to Gilbert

Silvio: So, it's a kind of mind control.

Silvio's words fall into the room, and no one denies it.

Clavis: The gatherings that the High Priest holds regularly... when you open the lid, it's a workshop for producing fanatics.

Clavis: Today's riot was probably also caused by some of those fanatics.

Clavis: And Emma, this is something that concerns you too –

-

Azel: Did those overprotective fellows actually allow you to come back?

When I stopped, Azel was looking down at me from the top of the stairs.

His eyes were terribly cold... but their expression quickly changed.

Azel: Are you... crying?

.

.

.

Chapter 14 Premium Story

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[vaaaaaiolet]

real quick before i let liz break my heart again as i write this reblog:

we will need that energy going forward because this was painfully time-period accurate. and also WONDERFULLY written.

i don't usually read f/f fics, but you mentioned once this was one of your favs and it didn't take me long to find out why. take your fast car is written with a very endearing, honest narrative voice that i think couldn't have come from a place other than very close to your heart.

THIS FIC SHOULD BE A MOVIE!!

beautiful. clear. SO witty. your writing put me seamlessly into reader's shoes. GAHH the buildup leading up to the party, the dreams, the growing feelings that reader definitely, for sure, must be hallucinating for her coworker because who wouldn't feel that way for leah??

the heartfelt progression of reader's relationship with leah, from admired coworker to acquaintance and "friend" to something possibly more, echoed high school tropes so much that i cheered when spin the bottle started!! and the 7 minutes from heaven segment AGHHGGHS MY HEART side note i adore how you wrote chris :,)

THE AFTERMATH.

the sting of leah's supposed rejection hit me in the heart. i was wondering right along with reader, did any of that mean anything to her?? and the BREAK ROOM FIGHT OH MY GOSH i got snapped right back to that daunting grade school feeling of fear. you had my eyes PEELED to every word of that scene.

bittersweet endings are my very favorite. this fic had one that i'll be thinking about for a long time. hetero love is beyond privileged to not have to deal with the fear of societal rejection a queer relationship can bring.

"Wait," she says, and you turn to face her one last time. "Before you go, I wanted to tell you that I… I lo-" "I know," you say, cutting her off. "Don't say it." You climb into your car, but before closing the door, you say, "but just so you know, I would've said it back."

the sunset line right above the sunset lesbian flag divider??? i don't know if that was intentional but WOW that had me swallowing lumps in my throat.

absolutely phenomenal work as always, liz, and i felt every drop of love you poured into writing this fic. i hope all your sunsets are just as beautiful as your prose :)

take your fast car and keep on driving

pairing: fem! leon kennedy (aka leah) x reader

cw: wlw, use of homophobic slurs, obscure resident evil characters (no, i did not just make all of those names up), angst, light smut, forbidden love, secret relationship.

summary: you are a rookie in the rpd, and so is leah (re2r leon but as a woman). you like her but you know you shouldn't pursue a relationship because this is 1998 and you're the cops.

a/n: this is a commission for @porcelainseashore! also, the title is a line from fast car by tracy chapman bc i like to cry to that song (and she's a (presumed to be) queer woman so it seemed to fit).

wc: 5.3k

taglist:

@rigorwhoring

@dilfprayers

@porcelainseashore

@dollita-fawn

@xoxoloveless

@admirxation

@pawrincss

Leah. You've never met anyone quite like her before.

Like you, she's new to the force, fresh out of the police academy. It's the first thing you bond over.

In the break room, she gives you a soft smile while she lingers by the kitchen counter, waiting for her instant coffee to finish brewing. The gurgling of the machine fills the brief silence between you.

"It's your first day too, right?" she says after you attempt a "hey" that comes out as nothing but a heavy exhale.

"Yep." It's all you can come up with.

"You seem nervous."

"A little. You know, don't wanna fuck anything up on my first day." Like this conversation. You keep the last part to yourself.

"Don't worry. It took me like three tries to get the buttons straight on this shirt. Jill- Officer Valentine had to help me fix it."

And somehow you're jealous. Leah seems to have no trouble making friends since she's already getting chummy with a STARS member. You'll be relegated to the losers club while she gets to sit at the cool girls table - if there is such a thing.

Most of your colleagues are men. Lieutenant Marvin Branaugh, your direct superior seems nice enough, Chief Brian Irons is a bit off-putting, though. And the STARS members: Officers Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, Brad Vickers, Richard Aiken, Rebecca Chambers - and of course, Captain Wesker, who reminds you of a cartoon villain in the way he carries himself. Most of them are relatively nice to you. Jill has a hardened exterior but a soft heart; Chris is a typical jock and a natural leader; Brad is a bit of a knucklehead; Richard is his slightly smarter counterpart; and Rebecca, who's even younger than you, is an absolute sweetheart. Not to mention, Forest Speyer, Joseph Frost, Enrico Marini, and Barry Burton. You consider putting pictures of them on flashcards with their names on the back so you can learn them all.

Then, there's Leah who has a certain je ne sais quoi that makes her name stick firmly in your mind.

She walks gracefully, steadily in combat boots identical to yours and her blonde hair sways in time with her steps. Her pants fit perfectly, especially around the ass. But you try not to stare - you feel gross doing so when you catch the guys ogling her when she turns her back to them.

You wonder if they stare at you too when you're training in the gym. Lieutenant Branaugh puts an emphasis on staying fit in case the day comes where you need to chase down criminals or dodge gunshots during a shootout. A significant amount of your day is spent doing paperwork.

But for an hour a day, you do push ups and curl ups and pull ups (in that order) to 98.6 FM or a CD if Chris remembers to bring one down with him.

"Chris," you hear Wesker snap at him, "This music is atrocious. Go get a CD, a good one."

And with an exaggerated huff and the sound of metal weights hitting the hard floor, he does as he's told.

"He's kinda hot," Leah says from next to you while she stretches her calves.

"Who? Chris?"

"Yeah," she says, decidedly.

"You can have him. I'm not into meatheads."

"I'd like to see the head of his meat."

"That's disgusting!"

"Are you going to sit there chatting all day?" Marvin asks. "Or are you going to get in the ring?"

You both shut up and stand up.

There's nothing to fight over, but you can be competitive when you want to be. Leah seems intent on impressing Chris who's half-assing his workout both to stick it to Wesker, who is satisfied by his choosing Made In Heaven, and to watch you and Leah duke it out.

Nobody can resist a little girl-on-girl action. Leah has many things over you - her charm, her beauty, her laugh, and her body when she pins you to the mat. It's one, two, three slaps of her palm against the mat to crown you the loser, but she gets distracted, and only you can see the mask slip because you're staring into her eyes when it happens. You want to drown in her ocean blue eyes. Her pupils widen and then her eyes themselves in response, like she's shocked by her own feelings. And then she shakes herself out of it.

You blink and she's standing again, holding out her hand to help you up. And then, like she was never even there, she's gone, rushing in and out of the locker room so quickly that you don't cross paths despite your lockers being two apart. You, on the other hand, take extra time to consider the possibility that you've hallucinated her existence entirely.

But, does it even matter? 

Leah starts showing up in your dreams. She's the intermission between being completely flunking your math exam and missing your flight to Paris (the recurring stress dreams). One night, you're eating lunch in a cafeteria and she sits across from you. The next, you're at a Halloween party and she wears a sexy cop costume, which is not that far off from her real uniform. It's the third time she shows up that you kiss. It doesn't go any further than that because you wake up to your 7:45 alarm.

What the fuck was that? 

You have a book called The Secret Meanings Behind Your Dreams which was a gag gift from a friend. You flip through the pages and find explanations for dreams about falling, teeth falling out, pregnancy, but none about kissing your coworker. You decide it's better not to dwell on it.

You file the thoughts of her under the category of things that you don’t have the qualifications or the time to psychoanalyze. There’s probably some sort of bullshit Freudian explanation but you have crime to fight (aka paperwork to do).

You’re grateful for the distraction when it approaches you in the Main Hall of the RPD. It's almost the end of your shift when Richard approaches you. Out of all the RPD members, you feel like he's the closest thing to a friend you've got here.

"Do you have any plans this Friday?"

"Work, per usual."

"Well, yeah," he half-laughs, "I do too. But, uh, what about after work?"

"After work, nothing."

"Cool. Brad and I were thinking about seeing a movie and maybe getting drinks, and he also invited Leah, so I think she's coming too."

The mention of Leah makes you perk up. You could give or take the whole going out on the town after a long week of work.

Leah, speaking of Leah, you spot her across the hall, chatting and laughing with Brad and Chris.

"Cool," you say, staring right past Richard.

"So, uh, do you wanna come with?"

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good." It's less an acceptance to his invitation and more giving minimal responses.

Richard says some combination of "cool", "okay", and "see you tomorrow". Or something like that. You wouldn't know because you're barely paying attention to him.

You realize it's a double date when Richard puts his arm around you. You're enthralled with Saving Private Ryan. "It should win Best Picture," you remark later. But it doesn’t. But right now, you try to play off the fact that he startled you with an awkward laugh. The theater is too dark for you to tell if he's blushing or not, but his embarrassed "sorry" says he is. But before he moves away from you, you lean into him, and you swear you can hear him sigh in relief. He's nice. This is nice.

But more importantly, you watched Leah do the same with Brad and she's your leader just as Brad is Richard's.

No, for you, she's your muse. She's the goddess that you pray to. 

When they kiss, you follow suit. He tastes like the buttery popcorn you've both devoured, but it's not bad. It could be worse.

It’s forgettable, washed away by the beer you drink at the dive bar two doors down from the theater. 

"Do you wanna take this back to my place?" Richard asks.

"I would but I have to get up early for church" is the first excuse you can come up with.

Richard seems to believe you, which is most likely because he wants to believe this isn't rejection. "Oh! I didn't know you were religious."

"I am, yeah," you say, and hope the rubber chicken test prepared you for the difficult task of keeping a straight face in a moment like this. You think you notice Leah stifling a laugh across the table because she knows.

But her eyes only flit to yours for a second before Brad asks her the same question.

"I actually have a date to church tomorrow morning," she says, smiling at you.

Brad believes her because he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch. Before the awkwardness permeates too far, they leave together.

"So, church on a Saturday, huh?" Leah asks with a knowing smirk.

Finally, you both exhale the giggles you've been holding in together.

"God," you say, putting your head in your hands, though still laughing, "How long do you think it'll take for them to realize?"

"I dunno." She shrugs and sips her beer. "But hopefully sooner rather than later so I don't have to make up an excuse not to go on a second date."

"No second date for you guys? You seemed to be having a good time back in the movie theater."

She shakes her head. "I was until he started kissing me."

"Bad kisser?"

"Awful. Tongue down my throat and all."

"Ew."

"How about you and Richard?"

You shrug. "He's nice. And his tongue was not down my throat."

"That's good." She leans a little closer, like she's going to reveal a secret to you. "But you don't seem like you like him that much."

"I mean, I like him as a friend."

But nothing more. "Well, I should be going," you say, picking up your purse. "It's getting late, and, as you know, I have church."

"No, you don't." She rolls her eyes. "But you do have brunch."

"I do?"

"Yeah, I'll pick you up around 10:15-10:30? Depending on my hangover."

"Sounds perfect."

You and Leah each devour a plate of waffles in a diner voted Raccoon City's #1 Breakfast Destination '97 according to a poster outside.

"Mm," she ponders the taste of her coffee. "Way better than what the RPD has."

"I'm beginning to think they might just be giving us packets of dirt instead of coffee grounds."

"Where else are they going to put all the dirt they dig up outside?"

"It's so goddamn weird that they have a cemetery. It's like they're expecting us to die."

"I feel like I'm already dead. My head is killing me."

"Mine too. I don't even think I had that much to drink."

"Me neither, and thank god - I wouldn't want to end up in bed with Brad."

"You think you would've gone home with him if you were drunker?"

"Maybe. I tend to make stupid decisions when I'm drunk."

But, so do you - one of which includes playing spin the bottle with the RPD's finest.

"We used to play Kings mostly 'cause no one had a table that we could play beer pong on," Brad says when Chris asks him about high school parties back in his hometown.

"We can play Kings if I can find a deck of cards."

"No, we can't, dumbass, unless you have cans hiding in the back of your fridge," says Forest.

"What do you wanna play, Forest? Spin the bottle?" Chris asks sarcastically.

"I thought spin the bottle was a game made up for movies. I didn't know anyone actually played it," Rebecca chimes in from the corner, holding a soda rather than a beer because she 'felt bad drinking underage' even though Chris offered her one.

"You bet your ass people actually play it," Chris says. "How else would you kiss your crush when you're an awkward 15 year old?"

"Truth or dare," she says with a roll of her eyes to say it should be obvious.

"We could play truth or dare," Brad suggests.

"No, we should play spin the bottle," says Forest.

"If you wanna kiss me that bad you can just ask," Chris says.

"Why don't we play both? Then, if the bottle doesn't decide in Forest's favor, he can dare Chris to kiss him," Jill says.

"I'll remember to pick truth in that case."

You play spin the bottle first, which results in Forest giving Richard a peck on the lips, Richard passing it on to Brad, who goes for more than a peck with Jill, and Jill, pulling swiftly away from him, kisses Leah.

And it comes to Leah who lands on you. Of course she does. The first kiss is chaste, but when you take your turn and the bottle lands on her, it barely falls short of passionate.

The bottle is Leah's again and if it were possible to rig this game you might've believed someone had because it points in your direction.

A collective - and juvenile - "ooh" comes from the group. It's the same one you hear from a classroom of 7th graders when a teacher tells a student they need to "speak to them".

Rebecca, clueless, asks, "What?"

"They have to play 7 minutes in heaven."

"What's 7 minutes in heaven?"

"The two people have to go into a separate room for 7 minutes and they can do whatever they want."

Leah looks at you, you look at her. Hesitant, nervous, and curious.

"My bedroom's down the hall," Chris says, pointing towards it. "No snooping, no stealing, and if you break it, you replace it. Got it?"

"Yes, Officer Redfield," you say sarcastically.

Leah stands up, giving Chris an exaggerated eye roll, and you follow her down the hall. You can hear them whispering their predictions and fantasies about what you'll get up to behind closed doors.

But eventually, the games go on in your absence. You remain unaware as you sit on the edge of Chris' unmade bed next to Leah.

It’s just you and Leah Kennedy in Chris Redfield’s bedroom, the world is still and the lights are low, but you watch a decade fly before your eyes in a single moment. It’s fancy dinners and home-cooked meals, an apartment in the city and a house in the suburbs, the balcony, the backyard, the wedding, the honeymoon, the family portrait. 

"So…" you begin, expecting her to set some sort of ground rules, expecting you'll end up conversing for the duration, maybe giving each other a friendly peck on the cheek. But, she looks at you, her eyes flicker as they quickly run up and down your body, and she takes the leap.

Her lips are soft and sweet with cherry-flavored chapstick, and like Katy Perry, you liked kissing a girl. But, there are no boyfriends to mind, and despite being tipsy and technically still playing by the rules of a game, there is something real about the way she kisses you. It's heated and hungry, urgent due to time constraints. You can't stay in this room all night - not because it's Chris', but because no one can know about this. You can't tell them that when her tongue meets yours it's the first time you enjoy the taste of beer. You can't tell them about how she tucks her bangs behind her ear so they don’t obstruct her view of you when she pushes you onto your back and her hands travel from your waist to your bra and stop when Chris opens the door. Leah is quick to sit back up, to pretend, but not quick enough. He knows, but for whatever reason, he keeps his lips sealed.

When you return with your head down to hide your reddened cheeks, Brad says, "You two must've been having a lot of fun in there since you missed the timer on the microwave going off."

"We just talked," Leah says.

"Uh-huh," he says, "Talked."

"You guys were totally getting it on in there," Forest says.

"I would've paid to see that," Brad says.

"You can admit it," Richard says. "We won't judge."

"There's nothing to admit," you say.

Jill throws you a sympathetic save by announcing, "You missed Rebecca having her first kiss."

"It's not that big of a deal," Rebecca says, timidly.

"Are you saying I'm a bad kisser?" Chris asks.

"I didn't say that."

The group decides to transition to truth or dare, and you're relieved to have the attention taken off of you and Leah. The boys become distracted by the sight of Jill's tits when Brad dares her to flash everyone. You decide to leave before you end up naked.

While you wait for a cab outside, Leah turns to you. "Can you keep what happened between us a secret?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Thanks," she says. "You're a great friend."

A friend. You longed to be accepted for so long, but now the word sounds like rejection. The word taunts you while you struggle to fall asleep.

Just friends. The way you told Leah you felt about Richard after you made up an excuse to not go home with him. 

Leah avoids you at work the next week. No one seems to care except Chris, who asks you privately, "What is up with the two of you? You were going at it in my bed last weekend and now you won't get within 20 feet of each other."

"Nothing. We were just drunk on Saturday, so that whole thing happened, and we've just been busy with separate work this week."

"Uh-huh. You were just drunk? Nothing else going on between you two?"

"That's like asking if you and Rebecca have something going on. We just kissed because we were playing a kissing game."

He doesn't press further, though when he turns to walk away, you call after him, "Wait, Chris…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone, though. I don't want them making a big deal out of it."

"I won't."

He keeps his word.

Leah used to eat her lunches with you, you'd both meet in the break room at 12:30 sharp, but now, you sit by yourself. Until Friday, 12:20, you find her sitting across from Jill, talking and laughing.

"Alright, I've gotta get back to work," you hear Jill say before she leaves the room. There's only one exit, so she inevitably crosses paths with you. She's the first person to give you a warm, genuine smile that week. It makes you feel human and real, and it gives you the confidence to talk to Leah.

When she spots you, she hurries to pack her things up and leave.

"Leah," you say. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not."

And you didn't. That's not why she avoids you.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you." Her shifty eyes and wavering tone give her away - not that it wasn't already obvious.

"Yes, you are."

She looks around the empty room before lowering her voice, "Fine. If I admit it, will you let it go?"

"How can I 'let it go'? We went from making out on Saturday to-"

"I told you not to talk about it."

"You told me not to tell anyone else."

"Same thing. You're just making it worse."

"How?"

"You're reminding me of it, and I don't want to think about it."

"Why? I thought you liked it."

"I did. I like you."

"I like you too."

Her face softens for a second, going from forced agitation to poorly-hidden bashfulness, but ultimately, she looks disheartened. Because you both know this can't happen.

"I wish it were different."

"You wish I didn't like you back?"

"No, I wish this world was different. I wish Raccoon City was different."

"Me too, but why should we let it stop us?"

She sighs, purses her lips, and turns her head. Finally, after a moment of contemplation, she says, "Okay, but we have to keep it quiet. When we're at work, we're just friends." She pauses and her lips curve into a smile. "And tonight, after work, when I take you out to dinner, we can be something more than friends."

"Deal."

She glances towards the door to make sure you're alone and gives you a grin that's almost conspiratorial before kissing you on the cheek.

"That's against the rules!"

"Oops," she says with a shrug.

You sneak a kiss on her cheek to 'get even' and she walks out of the room with an extra pep in her step. You notice her trip on the laces of her combat boots, too far away to hear you stifle a laugh, but you see her shake her head, feeling embarrassed by her stupid mistake despite being alone in the hall. She's not used to being lost in thought like this, not used to liking someone in this way.

That night, you play a mixtape you and a friend made together back in high school when your only problems were silly crushes on boys. You remember her gushing over a guy you thought was mediocre at best while the sound of Kiss Me amplified her giddiness, and you remember how you comforted her when he broke her heart while Linger covered up the sounds of her crying. 

You wish you could call and gush over your date and have her calm your nerves over the phone, but you know you shouldn’t. You could say you were seeing a boy but a lie like that would violate the rules of girl talk. You decide to keep yourself company. 

You drive separately and meet at the restaurant. It's relatively crowded with the typical hustle and bustle of Friday evening downtown.

You split two dishes and Leah pays. Like you, the waiter seems allured by her.

"Before you leave," he says to Leah in a hushed voice as if you can't hear what he's saying from across the table. "I just wanted to let you know that you're very beautiful."

"Thanks," she mumbles with a half-smile. Polite, but nothing else lies behind it. No desire.

"And," he continues. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime."

"No thanks, I'm unavailable."

"Oh? Where's your boyfriend on this fine Friday night?"

"No boyfriend."

He doesn't quite get it. Not until she reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze when she takes it in hers. She smiles at you, warm, and then at him, proud.

"Oh, so that's how it is," he says, and you can almost hear the roll of his eyes. "Well, I left my number on the check, so you can call me once you're done 'experimenting'."

Her face turns sour while her eyes remain on him, softening when she meets yours. You walk out hand-in-hand now that you're beyond the point of hiding. Most people pay no mind, thoroughly absorbed in themselves and their dinners.

You take the bottle of wine to go, since you each had only a glass at dinner as neither of you planned to drive home drunk on anything but each other. You're grateful that Leah invites you to share the rest at her apartment since you didn't bother tidying yours. It's better she comes over when the floor of your bedroom is visible, and not covered in a layer of dirty clothes.

Her house is neat and minimalist to a degree that makes you think it's always this way. Her wardrobe, which mainly consists of multi-purpose basics - white t-shirts, blue jeans, and an array of leather jackets - lives on a single-rod stand-alone clothing rack. With her level of organization, she doesn't need to hide all of her things behind a closet door.

You are the only thing she hides. 

But when you enter her bedroom together, she keeps the lights on. She wants to see all of you, to know you. She wants to put your picture in a locket and let you dangle around her neck, swinging like the pendulum of a clock in time with her heartbeat.

You unravel under her touch slowly and then all at once. She kisses you from your lips to your core with meticulous reverence and savors your taste. When you struggle to catch your breath, she holds you like you're bleeding out and your dying words are sacred to her.

Leah teaches you how to return the favor by letting you practice. It is a hands-on lesson. By the time you fall asleep, your lips are wine-dark and barely tired. She holds you close to her heart like a rosary while you sleep soundly.

You roll out of bed stealthily and search her kitchen for breakfast. There isn't much. She seems regimented in most areas of her life and health-conscious. There is a disappointing lack of Lucky Charms cereal in her cupboards. There is a carton of eggs, so you scramble a few for you both. You brew coffee too.

"Something smells good." You hear Leah's voice from the hallway before she appears in the kitchen. She wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind.

"I took the liberty of making us both breakfast. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not. In fact, I could get used to this."

You take a sip of your coffee before you decide, "It's better than the kind they keep in the RPD break room."

"I think anything is."

You try to kiss her and she turns her head. You fear she'll claim the night before was a drunken mistake - it would be the same lie you told to Chris. Obvious in a way that makes it more infuriating than saddening. But she doesn't.

"Mm-mm," she says, shaking her head. "When I said anything is better than the RPD coffee, I didn't mean my morning breath."

"I don't care," you say with a smile and lean in again to kiss her.

She laughs when she playfully pushes you away. "At least let me brush my teeth before you kiss me."

"Fine," you concede and settle for kissing her on the cheek the way you do when no one is looking at work. Even in locker rooms you have to be vigilant. You doubt Jill or Rebecca would say anything unless you were doing something truly salacious. But it isn't unheard of for one of the guys to take a trip through the women's locker room under the guise of "hearing something suspicious" or "accidentally walking in there", sometimes without any excuse at all if it's Irons who has done this on multiple occasions.

Your secret relationship makes you feel like teenagers sneaking around behind their parents' backs. And like teenagers, you both can't wait to grow up and break free of the rules that hold you back from being together. But, you live under the tyranny of societal norms that you can't outgrow on your own.

Not when you have Brad and Richard who find you in the previously-unoccupied hallway.

"It's only a kiss. It's not a big deal."

"Not here."

"No one's going to see us."

But they do.

"I should've known you two were a couple," Brad says.

"Yeah, a couple of dykes," Richard says.

They laugh like bullies on a playground. You thought they would have learned by now. Aren't you supposed to get wiser with age? You're too stunned to say anything for a moment, but you make a conscious effort not to look at Leah. Not yet.

"What's going on over here?" Forest says, peeking around the corner.

"We just discovered there have been two queers hiding among us," Richard says as if he's speaking about foreign spies or ghosts.

"Yeah, they were totally getting it on out here," Brad says.

"Aw, I can't believe I missed the action. Could you give us a little replay?" Forest points at you two like he's the director of a porno.

"Go take your sorry ass to the video rental across the street if you want something to watch," Leah says with unwavering confidence.

Yours wavers. You never got the thick skin they promised you. You put all your strength into holding back tears. Something else burns behind Leah's eyes, though, you can see it. Her icy blue eyes somehow hold fire. 

"Wow, a feisty bitch," Forest says, "or should I say butch?"

All her training led to this moment, but you step out of the ring in fear.

"Sorry I get more pussy than you, Forest," Leah says. She wouldn't normally engage them like this. It's personal. It's you.

"Shit. Pretty good one," says Brad.

"Ugly bitches usually have some brains, so it makes sense," says Forest.

It feels like middle school until it becomes physical. Richard pushes Leah, so she hits him in the nose hard enough to make him bleed. Forest lays his hands on her and likely knowing that she can't take all of them at once, especially when you're standing by in shock rather than fighting beside her like you should be (a thought you only have later), she pulls her gun on him.

Chris, who has won every sharpshooting contest STARS has held since he joined, hears the commotion and runs in with his own gun trained on Leah.

"Put the gun down now," he says.

And terrified, she points it at him.

They both stare each other down for long enough for you to draw yours and fire it because you know if he shoots her, he won't miss. 

You would kill for Leah. 

The bullet hits no one but the picture of Brad on a poster that hangs on various walls of the RPD. Which would be kind of funny if that's what you meant to hit.

Leah turns to you in shock which allows Chris to easily disarm her, knocking her gun out of her hand and kicking it out of her reach. His gun is aimed at you now. He can shoot you and get away with it, and he knows it. His finger hovers over the trigger but something in him holds him back.

"Put the gun on the ground or I will shoot you," he warns you instead.

You put it down and hold your arms above your head. All five of you are placed in separate rooms. There are not enough interrogation rooms to hold you all, nor are there enough cops that are not involved in the situation. Each of you is placed in handcuffs, but you are first. You never thought your handcuffs would end up around your own wrists.

You should be arrested. For once, you are grateful for the way Chris pities you.

"I wasn't going to shoot," is the first thing he says when he walks in. The second is, "you're lucky your aim sucks".

"I really thought you were going to kill her, and I was just scared. I swear, I'm not like that, usually."

"I know. And that's why you're not going to jail." He pauses before adding, "But you're handing in your gun and badge."

Everyone else gets a slap on the wrist. You wonder if it's a literal slap when you see Brad walk out of the interrogation room looking like he's on the verge of tears, but you find out from Leah that the combined interrogation of Chris and Jill will scare you straight.

"Pun intended?" you ask.

"No," she says, but a hint of a smile peeks through.

She tells you that she hates goodbyes before she hugs you. You open your driver's side door and she stops you.

"Wait," she says, and you turn to face her one last time. "Before you go, I wanted to tell you that I… I lo-"

"I know," you say, cutting her off. "Don't say it."

You climb into your car, but before closing the door, you say, "but just so you know, I would've said it back."

The sunset doesn't look as beautiful when you drive off into it alone.

[teejaystumbles]

Hiii @embroiderling here. Can I ask for 🐦‍⬛or🥊?

Thank you!

Heyy Yam, thank you for asking! I'll go with 🥊because I got another ask for the Labyrinth one :)

So, this is my first fic for the Arcane fandom, I'm still working on it and just wrote most of these words fresh for you!

“They want to hurt uncle Silco!” Powder’s whisper makes Vander freeze for a moment before he pulls the girl away from the bar and crouches down before her. “What did you say?” he whispers back. Powder’s eyes are wide, she looks worried and frightened.  “Those guys over there said they’re going to ambush Silco, make him pay. Do you know where he is? I thought he- that he wasn’t around anymore?” Her gaze darts over to a group of young men who belong to one of the undercity’s many gangs. Vander tolerates them as long as they make no trouble. Business is business after all, and he hopes to have a mitigating effect on gang wars this way. The Last Drop is neutral territory. “Vander?” Vander looks back at his daughter and ruffles her hair, giving her an encouraging smile. “Thank you for telling me, Powder. Don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt Silco.” Powder’s eyes grow even wider and she almost squeals in excitement. “Does that mean he’ll come visit us? I miss him! He always liked the toys I made for him!” Vander is taken aback by her enthusiasm for a second. He stands again and clears his throat. “I will tell him that.” He looks down at Powder and knows his smile must look pained. “I’d like him to come back, too. But I hurt him, and he hasn’t forgiven me yet. I’m sorry, Powder.” She frowns and gnaws on her lip. “You know… He always looked at you like Dad looked at Mum. Like he really, really liked you. How could you hurt him?” Vander’s face falls and he looks down at his shoes, clenching his fists. “Yeah…I’ll try and make up for it, sweetie. I promise.” He turns back to the bar and busies himself with cleaning glasses and pouring drinks until Benzo comes in and Vander can ask him to cover for him. “I need to make an errand. Keep an eye on things for me, alright?” Benzo nods easily and Vander claps him on the shoulder, shoots a grin and finger guns at Ekko and Powder playing darts in the corner and heads out of The Last Drop. Vander has a rough idea where Silco’s hideout should be. He has never gone properly looking since the first few months he desperately tried to find him and couldn’t. Now he knows where some of his lackeys hang out and corners a kid to tell him where he can find his boss. The boy’s instructions lead him deeper into the bowels of the undercity, closer to the river. He’s almost ready to ask some poor sod for directions again when a familiar figure steps into his way. “What do you want?” Sevika asks and looks Vander up and down in distrust.

[seokminfilm]

attorney fever | lee seokmin

🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🪄 warning, non-idol au, romance-comedy (is it funny??), fluff, a tiny bit of angst, attorney au, hint to girl dad!seokmin, hint to single dad!seokmin, wholesome, meet cute, vague (??) mutual attraction

🪄 summary, your charming lawyer is trying to make a good, professional impression on you, but how can he do that with a bunny figurine sticking out of his suit pocket?

🪄 author's note, this came up in my head when i saw the the 2nd picture on pinterest and i knew i had to do it....."thank you lyr's brain" we all say in unison! ALSO happy 2025!! new year new lyr so stay tuned for some big changes i may make!! much love lyrnation <3

🪄 now playing, trial, phoenix wright: ace attorney ost

🪄 word count, 1.1k | for @kstrucknet

Being in this situation was less than ideal for you.

You were being tried in court because an entitled lady wanted to sue you and your entire workplace for "conspiring to kill her" because you had accidentally put pickles on her sandwich, to which she was "deathly" allergic.

(If you could even be allergic to pickles.)

And so, here you were—standing in an overly decorated courtroom just three days before New Year's Eve, waiting for the lawyer who was supposed to be defending you in the trial.

Your friends had all heard good things about the specific lawyer they had hired for you, and you trusted them, even if the main thing they told you to comfort your obvious worry was that the lawyer was "drop-dead gorgeous".

(Like that was supposed to help you not lose tens of thousands of dollars just before the new year.)

The doorknob twisted, and you stood up, brushing off your outfit as you stood at attention, ready to see your defense attorney.

If he couldn't save you, there was no way you were going to make it out of this courtroom alive, and you'd have to call your mom and tell her you lost your job and have to live with her again and—

Suddenly, all of your worries, fears, and thoughts in general popped like a bubble to a finger, face heating up at the sight in front of you.

He was drop-dead gorgeous.

"You must be..." He trails off, voice rich and confident as he takes your hand in his. You shake it, nodding as you try to clear your throat. "I am."

"I'm Lee Seokmin. I'll be your attorney for this rather unusual case." The smile he gives you sends your body to heaven and back, and you're sure you've been gripping his hand like you'd drown if you let go.

"Thank you, Mr. Lee. I—trust me, I didn't think I would be in this situation either," Blushing, you stare down at your shoes, and Seokmin offers you that shockingly pretty smile again, shaking his head as he retracts his hand.

"That doesn't mean we can't get you out of it, though. Have a seat." He gestures to the empty seat behind you, and you nod, sitting down as he stares at you, dark brown eyes taking in your features.

"So, I've read the case over a few times, but I need to hear your side of the story so I can argue with the prosecutor." Seokmin's voice is firm, experienced—and you would be lying if you didn't think it was extremely attractive.

"Well, long story short—I didn't know the lady was allergic to pickles, and put them on her sandwich like normal because I do that with all sandwiches all the time." You say, blushing at the absurdity of all of this—here you were, telling a really attractive man about a silly mistake of yours turning into a court case.

"She returned after taking a few bites, gestured down at the pickles she pulled out, and then went on a thirty-minute rampage about how we were trying to kill her because she was rich or something."

Sighing, you rub your head, shaking it moments later as you look up at Seokmin.

"I honestly don't really know. All I know is that I could lose my job, and thousands of dollars if I lose." You sigh, your voice becoming shaky as you look down at your feet again.

Lord forbid you to lose this case—everything would change if you did, and not for the better.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Seokmin's voice is calm now, and you follow his instructions, studying his features. His eyes meet yours, and you know he could break anyone with just his stare─it's soft, intense, and almost makes you want to break down on the spot.

"It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. You put your faith in me, and I'm going to do everything in my power to prove to you that you did the right thing. No stress here, okay? I know you're innocent. Now, I'll get the court to realize it too." Seokmin's words are instantly comforting, and you nod, giving him a smile as your eyes glance down to the little figure sticking from his pocket.

It had been distracting you the whole time, and you had wanted to get a glance at it for a while now. Now that you finally did, the smile that spread across your face was impossible to hide. It was a little bunny rabbit, cute little face peaking just over the top of the pocket.

"Um, Mr. Lee?" You asked, and Seokmin's eyes widened just slightly, replying quickly nevertheless. "Yes?"

"Is that bunny supposed to be the pocket square for your suit?" You gesture to the little bunny peaking out from his chest pocket, and Seokmin's face turns red, laughing nervously as he takes it from his pocket.

"Oh, um─no, no. My daughter, she─" His explanation was hurried, as the blush on his cheeks grew, and your heart broke just a little at the implications of his sentence, even if you knew it was wrong.

He had a daughter. He must be married, then.

"It's cute, though! Your wife must have forgotten to take the bunny out of your pocket," You say, and Seokmin smiles, shaking his head. His eyes become far away for a second, and he shakes his head again, sighing.

"I have no wife to do that for me anymore, so it must've just been my daughter's doing." Seokmin's laugh is bitter, and you fall silent, noting his now solemn countenance.

It hurt you to see him sad, even if you've only known him for a few minutes. He was a dedicated man, and you feel like that didn't apply to just his job. If only you could offer him some comfort of some kind. Would you even be able to do that? Would it be right? Would you be overstepping your boundaries as his client?

Seokmin recovers quickly, shaking himself slightly as he clears his throat, standing up as he glances down at his watch. The pain has vanished from his eyes, something like confidence in his eyes as he looks at you.

"I apologize for falling silent unexpectedly. Let's get you in there and prove you innocent, yeah?" Seokmin's smile is warm, and you nod, giving him a smile that changes his whole world for just a second.

It's warm, inviting, trusting, and he feels his face heat up as he turns away, feeling a swell of something in his chest.

Something he hasn't felt in what feels like forever.

Then and there, as the two of you leave the quiet room, he makes his decision: Seokmin will win this case for you. He was starting to think he'd win any case for you if you asked him.

[silverdragon-imagines-blog]

This is my happiness

[Finally wrote the sequel to "What about your happiness?". I hope you all enjoy these two getting back together to end off 2024. ^u^]

Sailing away from Wano was... different. After so long without the full crew, Sanji found himself feeling tense. And not just because of everything that had changed since the last time they had all been together.

Whole Cake Island was one thing, but after that call during the raid with Zoro... well, things were tense now.

They had broken up, that had been said and done for a long time now, but even during the party after Onigashima, he could feel lingering eyes on him. He never made eye contact, but he knew it was Zoro. Who else could it be really?

Despite things ending amicably between them, Sanji could feel the air between them was different now. It was not exactly tense, but there was something he couldn't place.

It had been a few days of this, and he dreaded when the crew would ask questions. Unfortunately for him, Nami's knowing looks let him know that the questions would come sooner than he would like.

"Sanji-kun, could I talk to you for a minute?" the navigator had come into the galley only five days from Wano, and of course, he could never deny her anything.

"Of course, my sweet! Anything you desire, I will do my best to give you," Sanji smiled, turning away from meal prep to give her his full attention.

Nami smiled, taking a seat at the bar separating the kitchen and dining room.

"I wanted to see how you were doing after everything at Wano. I saw you at the party with several women, and I was curious where you disappeared to after." Nami's smile was as lovely as it was mischievous. She propped her chin up on her hands as she looked at Sanji.

Sanji could feel himself flush at the question, clearing his throat for a moment. The afterparty at Wano was lovely, and he enjoyed the company he found himself in, especially the chance to flirt with all of the beautiful ladies who joined him. However...

"Your insinuation, while flattering my sweet, is incorrect," Sanji looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. I was with many beautiful ladies, that is true. However, after some time, I left the party to go back to where we were staying. No one was with me."

He didn't say that the thought of bringing anyone back with him felt... wrong. Though he supposed there wasn't a reason for that feeling. He could have taken someone back and no one would be upset, and yet.

"Really? That's a shame, you looked like you were having a great time."

"I was, Nami dear, that I can promise you. What brought on the questions though?"

Nami shrugged, though her kind smile betrayed her.

"I suppose I wanted to see how you were really feeling. After everything we went through together, I guess I wanted to make sure you're actually okay and not just lying to save face again."

"Ah, I see," Sanji nodded, taking a deep breath as he looked at Nami properly, "I'll admit that things are... different now I suppose. Not necessarily in a bad way, but..."

He trails off, looking out the small porthole window above the sink. He hears Nami get up from her seat and approach him, her soft hand holding onto his own.

"Are you happy, Sanji?"

That was the question wasn't it. He wished he could answer her yes, he was happy now, but he knew that wouldn't quite be true. He sighed, turning to face her.

"I wish I could say I was happy, Nami dearest, that I finally have everything I wanted. But now I think that what I had was enough and it's too late to change it."

Nami shook her head, squeezing his hand in hers for a moment. With a smile, she started to tug him to come with her.

"I think you'll find that not every mistake has to stay permanent."

She led him out to the deck, the bright sun blinding for a moment before he took in the scene before him. Luffy was messing around on deck with Chopper as Franky and Usopp shared their projects with each other. Brook was playing his violin as Jinbei watched from the upper deck with Robin watering her plants beside him. And then there was Zoro, leaning against the main mast as he took in everything going on. From here, it looked like nothing changed at all, that they were all just how they were so many months ago. Back when he and Zoro could linger near each other without tension filling the air.

Nami led him down the stairs towards Zoro and he could feel as each step made him nervous. It was like he was admitting he was wrong, and while he knew that was exactly the point, it felt like a failure. Like he was admitting that he missed waking up next to Zoro, that he missed the late night conversations and casual touches that lingered long after the sparring concluded.

He was lying to himself, he did miss all of those things, but why would Nami bring him to Zoro? Zoro who he was sure wanted nothing to do with him. Nami must have sensed his distress, as she looked back at him just a few steps away from the relaxed moss on the deck.

"Hey, it'll be okay," she said, squeezing his hand again. "Trust me that you're both more alike than you think. I've sailed with you for a long time, and I know how you both are."

"My dear, I want to trust you, but I don't think I believe that he'd want anything to do with me outside of being crewmates."

Nami squeezed his hand again, tugging him the last few steps to stand in front of Zoro. His shadow blocked the light, causing Zoro to open his eye.

"You both are lying to yourselves, and I know it's hurting you just as much as it's hurting the crew. Please just try talking to each other, I think you both need it."

There, Nami left him as she walked back to the upper deck. Sanji stood there, just watching Zoro as the swordsman looked back at him. They said nothing to each other, but it was almost like they both knew what each other was saying with the silence.

Zoro stood up, stretching and yawning. Sanji just stood there, taking the time to light a cigarette, if only to relax his nerves.

"C'mon, dartbrow, let's go somewhere away from the crew."

Sanji nodded and followed quietly as Zoro headed up the ladder to the crow's nest. It was quiet compared to the deck, but as the swordsman closed the trap door, it felt almost oppressive. Sanji elected to sit on the bench, opening the window just enough to breathe out the smoke from his cigarette. He watched Zoro pace the room for a minute, until he sighed and sat on the ground next to him with his back to the bench.

"I know what the witch is trying to do," Zoro spoke, though he did not look Sanji's way, "we talked in Wano. She's worried I think, but I already told her it's fine. My only concern as far as this," he gestured to Sanji and himself, "is concerned, is you."

Sanji took a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before he breathed out through the window.

"What concern, shitty mosshead? It's over, we both agreed on that, right?"

"We did."

At this, Zoro turned to him, his expression closed off as he regarded Sanji.

"Cook, the only thing I care about now is your happiness. I saw you with those women, and I don't think you've ever smiled that brightly since I've known you."

It felt like a punch in the gut, how wrong Sanji really was about how much Zoro cared about him even now that they weren't together. He sat there, smoking away until his cigarette burned down to the filter. He exhaled, the sound turning to a sigh at the end.

"I think I know now what my happiness is, and how stupid I've been." Sanji admitted, sliding off the bench to be at the same level as Zoro. He looked into the other's eye, seeing his confusion. It was amusing, but he didn't let it linger any more than was necessary. He closed the distance, letting his lips meet Zoro's and pressing himself as close to the other as he could. He wrapped his arms around him, feeling tears start to gather in his eyes as he felt Zoro reciprocate the kiss.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against Zoro's, letting himself take in what he almost lost.

"This, right here, is my happiness. That is if you'll have me."

Zoro chuckled, a calloused hand running through blonde locks as Zoro smiled at him.

"I'd be happy to have you back, Curls. As long as you want."

[alexanderwales]

I'll shut up about this soon, because I don't think it's a super interesting, but one other thing struck me about ChatGPT's examples: Sony's Walkman and IBM's PC date to 1979 and 1981, respectively. Here's the quote again:

"More than forty years I've been doing innovation. I can't think of a single example of a large innovation that came from an expected player or a large player," Vinod Khosla told me.

So the two examples that ChatGPT gives are from outside that time period, but it's not clear that the second sentence was meant to be bounded by the first. Is this Vinod Khosla being ignorant about what came before? Or is Vinod Khosla saying that things are different now than they were before he started? Sort of unclear. (I don't actually agree with Vinod Khosla here, I'm mostly concerned with using ChatGPT in this way without further research.)

I tried asking Claude the same question about innovations from large companies rather than small ones, with the condition of "past 40 years", and one example it gave was "the Post-It note", which is from 1980 even though I was specifically asking for less than forty years.

When called on this, Claude gave me the example of Amazon's Alexa ... which was actually mostly developed by a Polish startup that Amazon acquired.

When called on that, its new example was Blu-ray by Sony, and when I questioned whether that was actually innovative, it immediately folded and said that no, it was incremental.

The final three examples were Apple's iPhone, Sony's Li-ion batteries, and LED light bulbs from Phillips/GE, and when I poked further and claimed that these were all either capital-intensive "bring the thing to market" efforts or large companies using academic research, it immediately caved again and said that it couldn't think of anything that fit. I'm not sure whether I was bullying the LLM or not; it's very easy to get the LLMs to agree with any particular line of reasoning with relatively minimal effort, and I wasn't trying to be brash or authoritative about it, just truth-seeking, but who knows.

So I don't know. I'm using the best model of Claude, which is supposed to be on par with ChatGPT. But I think double-checking and critical thinking and pushing back against whether it's talking shit is actually super important. One of the dangers of these tools is that they're a shortcut for actual thinking, and will readily confirm your biases and suspicions.

Reached a point in Nate Silver's new book, On the Edge where he talks about what ChatGPT told him:

"More than forty years I've been doing innovation. I can't think of a single example of a large innovation that came from an expected player or a large player," Vinod Khosla told me. Taken literally, this is an exaggeration - a ChatGPT query turned up counterexamples of products like the Sony Walkman, the IBM PC, and the iPhone that were developed by well-established brands.

Nate. Come on man. Why are you asking ChatGPT this? Why is this a ChatGPT question? Why are you telling me that you're getting answers from ChatGPT? Why are you writing in a book that this is where you're getting your information from?

I don't think there's a problem with asking ChatGPT stuff per se. It's like a worse, more expensive Wikipedia that lies to you sometimes. But you then have to go actually think about the answers and whether they fit the question, and do research to see whether those answers actually comport with reality, and be ready to say "well, the machine was full of shit again", which is often the case.

I guess I'm just baffled by referencing ChatGPT as a method of investigation, like its an admission that Nate Silver would rather go to the machine than sit and think to himself about the issue for five minutes, or go to a contrary source to get their quote. I don't necessarily think that he should have lied about where he got that list from, but ... I don't know. It felt really lazy. I think if you're writing a pop science book, I want more from it than "I asked ChatGPT and here's what it told me".

(The book is full of interview snippets and anecdotes and halfway through, this is the first time that ChatGPT has shown up, but it does raise my skepticism levels of everything that's come before.)

[britt-kageryuu]

Leo is playing Geoguesser on stream.

Though because of technical difficulties with the 3D models, he's using 2.5D cartoony Red Eared Slider model.

The chat is trying to give their input, but Leo knows that chat can't always be trusted with this game.

"Okay, I may not be as big a plant guy as Dee, but those trees look like they might be from ..." Leo brings up the map, "Right around here!" He moves the mouse around a spot, and clicks to make a guess.

And he's only off be 50 miles.

"Ha! Nailed It!" Leo shouts while the game loads the next area.

It's obviously in a big city somewhere, though not very clear at first.

"Wait! I know where this is!!" Leo says while he starts to move around, and looks at some close by buildings, "This is in the LES of Manhattan! Like I know that hotdog cart! Pretty good if a bit pricey."

Leo keeps moving around talking about somethings in the area.

"So if I go back to the start point," Leo does this, and opens the map to zoom in on a very specific spot on the map, "It's right here, not to far from that one roller rink. Cool place really."

After he puts in the guess it shows he was spot on with the "guess".

The chat was going a bit nuts with amazement.

The next location came up. It was a suburban area.

Leo moved the around abit.

"Hmm. Looks like a generic suburb that would be the backdrop of a nice sitcom in the early 2000s. Oh a trash bin." He tries zooming in on the bin. "Does that say 'Orange County' as in Florida, or California?"

Leo takes a few minutes to move around before doing a coin flip. The correct location was not the one he chose.

"Drat. Well then again I remember this kind of thing happening with us. Like we didn't realize there was another street with the exact same address as our home, like 50 miles south of here." Leo explains as he looks around the new location, "Long story short, we almost went the very wrong way to get home once, because that location was closer in the GPS than our home."

Leo pulls up the map to place a guess, and he's pretty close to the correct location, again.

"Gonna switch it up. Anyone want to challenge me in Geoguesser? I'll open a lobby. First come first serve." Leo says as he sets up the multiplayer/VRs mode of the game.

The 'lobby' filled quick, and the game started.

Many lost to Leo, and his odd knowledge of where some random places in the world are.

Leo secretly thinking, 'If only they knew I accidentally sent myself here way to many times~'

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

Masterpost

Watched a few people play Geoguesser who were like "Oh, I've been here before! It's this place south of that city!" Or something similar.

And with Rise Leo's portal training, he probably went so many places that he would probably be pretty good at Geoguesser.

[tethrarisms]

saying people should die over a fictional ship is terminally online mentality. plz speak to real queer people instead of basing your entire personality on an amazon show that doesnt show queer pda because of homophobia.

If this is about that post exposing those two transphobic and aroacephobic Good Omens blogs, then lemme make myself clear to you. I never said people should d word because of a ship. I said those two accounts are extremely transphobic and exclusionist. And for being shitty TERFs, they should definitely d word :)

More than that, I don't feel like going holier-than-thou christian guilt when a hate group is against the entire existence of minorities, thanks.

On top of that, If you're mad about the tv show's DELIBERATE lack of queer representation (to you), there's always OFDM and WWDITS. That is, if you're not mad about Jim being non-binary but not saying it with all the letters, or the fact that it took three seasons for Guillermo to come out as gay despite the deliberate sexual tension between him and Nandor. Ah, and the fact that Jemaine stated all the vampires are pansexual but I don't think it's good enough for you, is it? I was also going to recommend Sandman but you think Neil is homophobic despite 90% of the characters being queer :/

In conclusion: you're hilarious. "Speak to real queer people."

I'm a real queer person myself and I definitely talk to people who touch grass. Not a single of them is mad about pda in Good Omens. Actually, we all love it and see ourselves in Azi and Crowley and the kind of relationship they have 💜 That's a you problem, actually.

Happy second season! It looks so promising, I can't wait 💜

[ananinidraws]

They remind me a lot of the dynamic between the Voice of the Stubborn and the Adversary in Slay the Princess, sooooo... This was the logical conclusion ovo

i wasn't expecting bowser to slay that much in a dress i will say

[alacritysparked]

Gyrodyne's smile caught Bumblebee off-guard and he offered his own in return, small but genuine. "Thanks, Gyrodyne. I really appreciate the offer, and all of this. And if I can, I'll come visit you, no escape needed."

He did look at Tarn for that last bit, silently asking for permission. It wasn't his call whether he returned or not. Multiversal visits needed to be by invitation, permitted by someone in the other universe. Bumblebee well and truly learned his lesson...

As Pharma spoke, Bumblebee observed. He caught small details, like he was trained to do, and focused on body language, moving parts, optics, biolights-- it painted a clear picture. If it wasn't obvious before, Bumblebee could confidently confirm that he was in no danger here. Pharma was earnest in his concern, spoke as any medic should to a new patient. So Bee went off-script.

"I think I should clarify: any physical issues with my protoform are due to malnutrition during crucial developmental stages. That being said, I am prone to contracting viruses, especially those not found on Earth. Even if I get sick, as long as my spark is fine, will you let me return to my universe?"

Sighing, he gave a somewhat lazy thumbs-up. The sooner this happened, the better. There was a little voice in the back of his processor insisting that this wasn't a great idea, and it was growing steadily louder by the minute.

So to quiet that down, Bumblebee focused his attention on reviewing the information available to him. "...The war ended less than a year ago for me. There's still plenty that can go wrong and loose ends we haven't tied up. So let's say I get captured and tortured again. Badly. Without any innermost energon, would I be more likely to die?"

@voraciouslyindulgent

Once all the mechs were in his office, Pharma visibly relaxed and his wings felt more flexible and not held up or tense. "Four days is an ideal time frame. If nothing happens, then you'll be free to go after the required spark monitoring." Pharma paused, turning to look closer at Bee. His blue optics were clear, shiny and showing concern without pity. "I wouldn't like for you to collapse or go through a shock."

The medic tilted his head a little, curious while hearing about the malformations and weakening of the frame. This didn't mean anything good, but he was mostly worried about the condition of Bumblebee's spark. "Your vitals will be monitored, of course. As it's just a few layers of plating we'd need to get through and reattach afterwards, it's not of much concern." The jet paused, giving Bee a longer look, as if he tried to assess what could be wrong and know it at the first glance. "With proper care and rest, you might even leave in a better frame-state." The jet even gave him a small smile.

His attention returned to Gyro then. "We'll be extracting the fluid and energon from around Bumblebee's spark casing." When Gyrodyne took a cube from the dispenser, Pharma let out a heavier ex-vent. "And no medigrade for the patient before the surgery. He needs to run on empty tanks. Later we will supply anything that's needed." The medic paused, looking at all of the mechs. "We can start in..." He took a moment to check his internal chronometer. "Approximately fifteen to twenty minutes after making sure we assembled all the equipment."

Pharma made sure to prepare most of the equipment himself and, as he could see, Gyrodyne's presence and cheerful demeanour calmed Bumblebee down. "Gyro, I'd like you to take care of most of the pre-op. Prepare the patient, get him on the magnetic slab, but do not magnetize it until the circuit dampeners would start working." Then, the medic turned to speak to Bumblebee again. "I will accompany you to the pre-operation room, so if you'll have any questions, I'll answer those."

@alacritysparked