#so you don't pay attention to the logistics

[postracehair]

paying attention

max verstappen x reader | 1.7k

a minor accident on a night out forces you to call the one guy you're not sure about. will a hospital waiting room clear things up between you?

cw: enemiesish-to-lovers, some blood (from charles), drunkenness (from charles), a hospital

a/n: first time here. let's see how this goes. __

The club is loud, crowded, and sweaty. You are tired, sober, and searching the sea of people for a certain silhouette. 

"He's not here." Oscar grins at you and takes a sip of his drink, eyebrows wiggling. "Max," he says. 

You frown. 

"I'm not --"

"Sure, you're not," he says. 

You're not entirely certain how you got here -- a club in the middle of Monaco with some of the most famous and wealthy guys in the world. An invite from a friend of a friend one time became two times became you rubbing elbows with the likes of Oscar Piastri and Charles Leclerc and...

Max Verstappen. Who is not here. Which is good, because --

"Why do you hate him, by the way?" Oscar asks. You huff. 

This would be much more bearable if you had a drink in your hand. "I don't." 

Oscar smirks at you. "It's that time he spilled a gin and tonic on you, I bet. You were so mad, I thought he was going to --"

The Australian keeps talking but you stop listening. Your heart beats in time with the thumping music. 

It's not that you hate Max. That would be exaggerating. You just don't know what to make of him. The times he's been out when you're there he's...fine. He makes sure everyone gets on the list, he buys people drinks, and he dances. But you've never really talked to him and maybe you're a little intimidated. Or maybe Oscar is right -- he did spill a drink on you. He probably apologized, but you were too pissed and embarrassed to remember. 

It sounds silly when you think about it now. 

"--just last week, he was saying that he thinks you --"

"Oh, shit!"

"No, Charles, don't!"

"Fuck --"

You and Oscar whirl around to see Charles pressing a rapidly reddening napkin to his palm.  

"Fuck's sake," you mutter. "What happened?"

The glass crunching under your shoes as you head over answers your question. 

"Whoops," Charles says, shrugging. His eyes are glassy and cheeks pink and you know before you lift the napkin that he needs stitches. 

"We're going to the hospital," you say. You think through the logistics -- can you get him there without calling an ambulance? You're not certain where the nearest emergency room is, nor if you can avoid the paparazzi. 

"Call Max," he protests, seeing your mind spinning even through his drunken haze, but you ignore him. 

"Now, Charles." You tug on his sleeve. "Keep this arm up."

It's clear that you're the most sober one here, so you tell the group you're taking him. Hardly anyone notices. Maybe they're all drunk or they just trust you with the Prince of Monaco. Who is being very annoying as you pull him out of the club and into the warm night.

"Call Max," he says again. 

"I heard you, Charles," you say. "We don't need to call him, I'll just call a car--"

"Nooo," he whines. "Just call Max. He'll take us." He shoves his phone at you and holds his injured hand high in the air like you told him to. 

Max will... probably answer. It's summer break and Charles seems to think he's at home. On his sim, or streaming, or whatever really rich guys do at home on a Friday night in Monaco. 

Before you can overthink it, you press the name on Charles's phone and hold it to your ear.

He picks up on the second ring.

"Hey, man," Max says. 

"Um, hey." There's a pause, and then Max says your name. 

"Why do you have Charles's phone?"

You look over at your friend who is examining his poorly bandaged hand. "Du, du, du, du, Max Verstappen," he hums. 

"Can you come get us? Charles cut himself on a glass and needs to get stitches."

"He -- what?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's late --"

"Where are you?" It sounds like he's moving around, keys jangling, a door closing.

"I can call a car, but he told me to call you --"

"Where are you?"

You tell him the club name and he hums. "Be there in 10. Don't leave."

"We're not going anywhere," you huff, but he's already hung up.

"Told you," Charles says, knocking his shoulder with yours. You roll your eyes and push his elbow back in the air. 

Max pulls up in a sleek four-door car in way less than 10 minutes. Charles happily gets in the back before you can say otherwise and you only hesitate for a second before sliding into the passenger seat. 

"Don't bleed on the leather, man," Max says, stepping on the gas as soon as your door is closed. The car hums under you and the streets of Monaco start to fly by. "And put your seatbelt on." 

"It's not that bad," Charles whines. "She's worrying too much."

You huff. Max slows to a stop at a red light.

"Hey," he says. It takes a second to register that he's speaking to you. You finally look at him and find his brow furrowed, jaw tight, almost as if he's actually worried. Maybe he is, even if it's just a cut. Or maybe he really is afraid Charles will get blood on the seat.

"Hi," you say. He looks amused for a second then flicks his hand at your waist. 

"Seatbelt applies to you, too."

"Oh," you breathe. "Sorry." Your brain does something funny -- for a second, you imagine Max reaching over you to grab the belt and pull it across your torso, clicking it tight at your hip. 

You blink the image away, cheeks hot, and buckle it yourself. 

"Thank you," Max says before he steps on the gas again. 

Charles rambles in the backseat about something and Max humors him while you swallow down whatever the hell the sudden tightness in your chest is. What an inconvenient time to realize you might have a crush.

There's little to no traffic and you make it to the hospital quickly. Max drops you both at the doors and Charles is stumbling his way through them before you can say thank you. You swallow the unfamiliar taste of disappointment at no longer being in Max's company and get Charles situated.

The waiting room is nice, obviously, but empty. You can hear the hum of the overhead lights beneath the faint classical music playing from somewhere and smell whatever bleach they use to keep this place clean. 

"Hospitals are so depressing." 

You straighten in your chair and turn to see Max. You let yourself look. Green hoodie, sweatpants that look soft and expensive, and sneakers.

"I thought you'd go home," you say. He shrugs and flops into the chair next to yours, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"You'll both need a ride when he's done." 

God, he looks tired. "Sorry."

Max leans forward, elbows on his knees, and turns his face to you. "For what?"

"Calling, I guess." His hair is a mess and you tuck your hands under your thighs so you don't reach for it. God, what is happening to you? "I bet you were busy."

He laughs and it's so unexpected that you laugh, too. "I don't think I'd call cleaning litter boxes busy."

"Well, still," you press. "Thank you."

Max's jaw works like he's chewing on something, eyes on your face. You try very hard not to squirm in your seat. "I think you don't like me very much," he finally says. 

"I -- what --," you sputter. He leans back in his chair with a smirk. "Why?" you manage to say.

"We don't speak," he says. "You avoid me when we're out, you didn't even call me from your phone--"

"I don't have your phone number," you mutter. 

"And it's fine if you don't," he continues. "I just want to know if I'm right."

He looks unbothered, eyes bright and jaw relaxed but his knee is bouncing. You realize that he's been paying as much attention to you as you have to him. You've been watching each other.

"No," you say, softly. "You're wrong."

His knee stills. "So why the distance?"

You sigh. God, this is not how you expected the night to go. You think back to what Oscar said in the club, to Charles demanding you call Max. Maybe this is something everyone else has seen but you. I thought you didn't like me, you don't say. I thought you didn't even care.

Something about the quiet, empty waiting room and the fluorescents and Max's tone when he told you to put on your seatbelt make you want to be honest.

"I think you're intimidating," you confess. A glance at his face reveals that you've managed to surprise him. His eyes are wide and is he...blushing? "And one time you spilled a drink on me."

That gets him to laugh. 

"Oh, god," he huffs. "That was not very well done of me." He looks at his hands, then back at you. "I owe you one."

"A drink? You didn't spill my drink," you remind him. "You spilled yours on me."

"Ehh," he says, waving his hand in the air. "Details."

Is Max Verstappen asking to buy you a drink? Your stomach erupts in butterflies. Who knew you'd be so affected by this man?

Before you can reply, Charles shoves the ward doors open and calls your name.

"Stop flirting," he says, holding up his bandaged hand with a grin. "Time to go home."

Max glances at you and rolls his eyes but his cheeks are still pink. He stands with a huff, digging his keys out of his pocket. 

Charles, still drunk, clearly, rambles about the stitches and how nice the doctors were as you walk to the car. Max sticks to your side.

"Hey," he says. "Give me your phone."

"Why?" you ask, even as you hand it over to him. His thumbs tap on the screen. 

"Now you can tell me when you're free for that drink." 

He passes it back to you and you see that he's added his number. 

"Are you guys even listening to me?" Charles whines.

"Okay, Max," you say softly. 

He grins at you. 

"Oh my goooood," Charles says. "Come on."

"We hear you, mate," Max says. "Let's go home."

[sunderwight]

It's so good when Shen Qingqiu takes care of Luo Binghe. In canon and also in fics. I especially am in love with when he does his hair or helps him dress, it's just so pleasantly domestic. Also endearing whenever SQQ gets a bit fanboy-ish about it, because that's Luo Binghe and SQQ can dress him up in every cool or sexy outfit he has a face thick enough to pay someone to actually make!

I wonder if he ever shares this wisdom with Shang Qinghua. Like at some bitching session or other SQH is sighing a bit about how MBJ always wears like the same three outfits, and don't get him wrong they're all great outfits, but he noticed Luo Binghe flaunting yet another fresh look the other day and part of him really wants to see Mobei Jun in something different...

And then Shen Qingqiu is just like, you're the Lord of An Ding Peak, you handle the basic wardrobe necessities for an entire sect? Go pay someone to make cool/sexy outfits and literally put them on Mobei Jun yourself! You're married to the guy, aren't you?

Shang Qinghua is like "wait you can do that? I can do that? that's a thing that's allowed?" and Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes and calls him a dumbass and points out that Airplane himself wrote about the intimacy of Luo Binghe's harem members dressing him and it being an even bigger deal for demons than humans, and Shang Qinghua cannot for the life of him remember this but it does sound sort of familiar. So off he goes to nervously sketch out some ideas for outfits, and then get told off by the seamstress he tries to commission for not having realistic ideas about how fabric works. But he does have Mobei Jun's measurements and after some discussion he gets a bunch of stuff that looks even better than his initial ideas, eventually, and then he just has to... give them to his king...

Shang Qinghua awkwardly presenting the topic to Mobei Jun like he's expecting to get a hard "no", but he blinks and his king is naked and standing expectantly in front of his fancy full-length mirror. Shang Qinghua has only ever helped Mobei Jun get dressed when he was injured in the past, and then usually only just putting his arms through some sleeves on an outer robe. They've undressed each other for sex, but putting the clothes on really is a different kind of intimacy. Especially an outfit that Shang Qinghua had specially made to suit Mobei Jun, to highlight the features he likes best about him. Striking blue and icy-white, with hints of An Ding's colors as accents, showing off his build to full effect, etc etc. Shang Qinghua layers each piece on and then does Mobei Jun's hair too, muttering quiet approval for how the look comes together while Mobei Jun preens under all the attention.

Of course, afterwards Mobei wants Shang Qinghua to dress him every day, which isn't always logistically feasible, and MBJ also intends to return the gesture.

Luo Binghe dresses Shen Qingqiu too of course, but Luo Binghe is aware both that other guys want his husband and also that Shen Qingqiu will refuse to go out in public if Binghe dresses him in anything revealing, even if he still lets him put it on, plus Luo Binghe was raised with human sensibilities about modesty. So all in all any "sexy" outfits are reserved for private time at home, and what he puts Shen Qingqiu in for daily wear is all stuff that is perfectly befitting a Qing Jing Peak Lord and scholar.

Mobei Jun doesn't have human modesty sensibilities and also doesn't see any reason why Qinghua shouldn't show off his own best assets while he's going about his day, so, Shang Qinghua is about to rue the hell out of a lot fashion-related world-building decisions he made a lifetime ago...

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

road trip with the 141??

they all take turns driving. it's a long haul, almost two days worth of sitting in the car. lucky the group has little trips planned (things they each think you'll enjoy) on the way to the real destination.

price takes the first shift. they all insist on letting you have the passenger seat, even if simon is squished in the back middle. john lets you pick the music, rests his hand on your thigh, drawing pictures with his thumb on the inside. he asks you to amble on about whatever and interjects with questions or comment when he's intrigued. john is a good driver, even when he's not fully paying attention to the road. he doesn't rage externally when he's cut off or when someone starts to tailgate him (he's memorizing their plate to have someone steal their identity later), just listens to your pretty voice ask him about future plans. he holds you hand when you all stop at a botanical garden around lunch. raises an eyebrow to soap when you pull him around to show him another flower, conveying that johnny was wrong and you do like this kind of thing. kisses your forehead when he moves to the backseat.

johnny takes up the next shift. he yaps and changes the radio station every five minutes. makes simon (who gaz is napping on) mad every time he misses a turn. johnny moves his hand scandalously low on your thigh every time he thinks you won't notice before you move it back to the wheel. asks you to change the air conditionings temperature every time he gets slightly uncomfortable. he grins when you feed him bits of his granola bar. overall, johnny is not an awesome driver and doesn't really pay attention to the road, so it's not a big surprise when he's kicked out of the big seat. johnny's delighted with how you like the waterfall trail he suggested. the group gets loads of pictures that will eventually get compiled into a photo album.

gaz climbs in the driver's seat and places a little kiss on your cheek. he's the forever gentleman and a little overindulgent. he lets you put your feet on the dash and would let you paint your nails if you had any polish, even if he hates the smell. kyle enjoys idle conversation with his darling, about that random bird or why would someone paint their barn that ugly orange? he strokes your thigh with his hand or holds your hand on the gearshift. that evening when you all go for dinner, he diverts for a quick trip to the local art show and farmers market. kyle follows you around for the evening like a lost puppy, offering to buy anything that catches your interest and carrying your bag. pleased when you buy a postcard of your favorite piece from the evening, just wants to take his doll out and let them have a good time.

simon offers to drive the last hundred or so miles to the motel you all planned to stay in for the night. he opens your door and kisses your fingertips before putting the vehicle in reverse. the other three are asleep by the time you pull back out, but you and him enjoy the time looking at the stars. simon tells you all the constellations he knows, and tries to help map them best he can while driving. simon's a horrible driver, but the road is pretty empty by the time he gets on. spontaneously, he pulls to the side of the road where there's a wide open field. grabs your hand and locks the boys in. simon takes you in the field and wraps his arms around you. you both sway in the moonlight, humming along to some long forgotten tune. he mumbles that he loves you and kisses your mouth softly. you two don't stay out there long because of the boys in the car and how late it is, but he still picks you a bouquet of flowers from the field.

the motel bed is small, but you all make yourselves fit. technically there's two, but no one is figuring out the logistics of that at this hour. soap has a hand in yours, gaz's leg is wrapped around your lower half, simon's heart beats steadily under your ear, and price has his front to your back. you all are tangled up together and couldn't be happier.

[prettyboypistol]

How to Seduce the TF2 Mercs

Scout

Pay attention to him. Give him genuine compliments and honest feedback. He wants to feel loved and like he's worth someone's time.

Kisses and physical affection. Mans thinks about the time you put your hand on his shoulder for weeks.

Just say you love him, man. He's been overlooked his whole life.

Soldier

Take him seriously- don't belittle him or make jokes about how he views the world. He knows he's a little crazy but he is genuinely trying his best to make the world a better place.

Defend him!!! If someone shit talks him, punch that motherfucker in the jaw!!

Honest discussions with you asking a lot of questions, take the time to get to know him and you'll have a defender for the rest of your life.

Pyro

Much like with Soldier, defend them and take the time to get to know them.

Gifts, gifts, gifts!!! Give them gifts!

Be a little flirty ;> don't baby them! Treat them like the adult they are!

Demoman

Bro just ask to fuck. He'll probably say yes.

He loves a bold mf that knows how to take what they want. Come on to him, buy him a drink, and ask if he's got any company for the night.

If you're going for something a little more long term, just remove the sleeping aspect. Just say you're interested in getting to know him you'll most likely get a date and see how things go.

Engineer

He's a sucker for practical use gifts (i.e. mechanical oil, a new wrench, etc) or sentimental gifts (photograph of you two, love letters)

Call him handsome! Call him pretty and a gentleman! Appeal to that cowboy energy and treat him all respectful like and you'll definitely catch his interest.

If you're not the type to do all that song and dance, go the opposite route. Stump him with a logistic problem and tease him about it. He'll nonstop think about you for months and bitch about you to his sentries.

Heavy

Mikhail likes hotheads and determined people, someone who's not afraid to fight if the situation comes to it.

Ask him about general things and slowburn that mf about nice conversations until you two can talk about personal things.

Ask him to help you clean your guns! Ask him weaponry questions about what would suit you better in the field!

Medic

GET THIS MAN SOME ORGANS. GET HIM SOME FUNDING!!!! get him a lil lovebirddddd

Take the time to get to know his birds and if the birds like you, Medic automatically likes you more.

Take an interest in his medical discoveries and his life! He's a prime yapper and wants to t a l k. That's why he never shuts up when doing surgery.

Spy

Romance him traditionally, to be honest. Keep it classy and court him like the romantic he is. Roses placed in his locker, prime dinners delivered to his door, BE A ROMANTIC ABOUT IT.

If you can't dance, ask him to teach you "for a mission" (He will know that you're the one behind all the flirtatious gestures bc he's SPY)

Butter up that man like he's a piece of toast. Handsome young man who captured your heart and holds it hostage. Classy gentleman that could get away with world domination with gorgeous eyes like that.

Sniper

Don't come on too strong, he's a bristly one. Be calm and casual. Hit him with that friends to lovers.

He's more of a tough nut to crack and insecure of if you actually like him, so be sure to flood his mind with ambiguous hints when you think you see signs of him showing interest in you.

To really seal yourself in his heart, spend a lot of quality time with him! Go camping, hunting, fishing, driving, anything that gets the both of you alone and quiet.

[greentrickster]

Okay, so, been reading some good scumplane (OG!Shen Qingqiu/Airplane) lately, because in this house we support Airplane being loved by terrifying/terrifyingly hot men, but also, like... I do love Moshang just so so much as a ship.

And all this has awoken a mighty need in me.

A need for a Moshangjiu fic with scumplane getting established first and then bringing our favorite popsicle in on things.

Anyway, scenario! Shen Qingqiu starts noticing Shang Qinghua when they're disciples via the classic scenario of being smart enough to realize something is fishy about SQH being the only survivor of a demon attack, begins paying attention to his most anxious shidi, accidentally shows his most anxious shidi the simplest of Human Kindness, accidentally becomes shidi's favorite shixiong, accidentally becomes friends with shidi, accidentally catches feelings. Continues being a Sneaky Bastard in order to figure out what shidi is up to (and now also to confirm shidi is single).

Ah, shidi is entangled with an Ice Demon. This shixiong will make use of his scholarly peak's library to learn all and then decide to- wait. Wait, it's super violent by human standards, but is it- is this demon attempting to... court shidi?

...

Not if SQQ dates him first he's not!!!

There follows a whirlwind romance between SQQ and SQH where no one really knows what's going on, especially the two involved, it involves a lot of shit talking about everyone else in their lives, snacks, and accidental trauma bonding.

Also Airplane being Airplane and accidentally spilling that not only is he also kinda crushing (bad) on Mobei-jun, but also Mobei-jun's entire backstory and please, shixiong, I know it all looks bad but this shidi's house is literally the only place in the world it's completely safe for his king to sleep, everyone deserves to sleep without having to worry about their relatives murdering them for things that aren't their fault from time to time, right, shixiong???

Shen Qingqiu: ...goddammit, the demon's a fellow sad little meow meow. (only not in these exact words because he doesn't know these phrases, naturally)

In a wild, bold, and - dare I say it - shockingly sexy convolution of thought processes and ideas, SQQ manages to finagle SQH into letting him meet with MBJ (SQH nearly has a heart attack three times in the process but it's fine, it's cool, this is his life, this may as well happen, it's fine-).

SQQ: It has come to my attention that my shidi is spying for you on our sect.

MBJ: (glowering at SQH, who is cowering behind shixiong wondering how he got talked into all this)

SQQ: However it also appears that this is merely a cover story and the only thing you really do is use his room to nap. And also that you are quite fond of him.

SQH: (This is it, this is how I die. Again.)

MBJ: (...if I stare straight ahead and don't change my expression, no one will be able to tell that he's right)

SQQ: So anyway I think you should join Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

MBJ: (gears grinding)

SQH: (squawking splutters of protest and confusion)

SQQ: (who speaks panicking!SQH at this point) Stop that, it's perfectly reasonable. He has the head disciple of our logistics peak under his thumb, it would be the simplest thing in the world for him to have you throw the sect into absolute chaos without even trying, then organize an attack, swoop in, and crush us all. He could have done it years ago, but he never has, he never even seems to initiate anything. I don't think he even cares about taking the Northern Throne, I think he's just incompetent about wanting to spend time with you. So he might as well just lie low until our shizuns ascend and then I'll take him on as a disciple on Qing Jing and you two can stop sneaking around like idiots.

MBJ: >8O

SQQ: Are you actually opposed?

MBJ: (folds arms and looks away sulkily, because like... it's true but you don't have to say it like that)

SQH: 8O ...reverse uno...

SQQ: What?

SQH: You're reverse unoing my blorbo!

SQQ: Quit making up word-

SQQ cannot continue because the System just presented the option to accept this potential new plot line (even if it does have the rather confusing title of 'Shidi Has Two Hands'), and holy shit, Mobei-jun seems to be potentially down for it, holy shit, apparently Mobei-jun actually likes me, holy shit, SQQ may have just solved all my problems-?!? This is great, this is fantastic, this is the best day of my life, this- is a long time I'm being allowed to be myself about all this, why is Shen shixiong not interrupting...?

Ah.

It is because I am kissing him full on the lips.

Cool cool cool.

At least I'm gonna die on a high note.

SQQ: O///O o_o (ahem) Shidi's- shidi's a really bad kisser.

SQH: Ah-haha, I can explain-

SQQ: We should work on that. Later.

SQH: (BEST DAY OF BOTH MY LIVES!!!)

MBJ: (I... did not actually hate watching that. Hm.)

Anyway, he agrees to the plan, SQQ and SQH start dating, some more time passes, the previous generation of peak lords ascend, the new generation take their places, and a week later Mobei-jun is an outer disciple of Qing Jing Peak.

The other peak lords are not amused, Qingqiu that is a demon, no.

SQQ: So what I'm hearing is that whole 'Cang Qiong will accept anyone from anywhere' philosophy was a lie then?

He's a demon!

SQQ: Children can't help where they're born. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes to teach.

First lesson of the day is SQH and SQQ are a package deal, take it or leave it. Second lesson is no canoodling with Shang Shibo until you've finished with lessons and chores for the day. Third lesson is if you see any Bai Zhan disciples hassling our peak's disciples you can break their swords. Just snap 'em in half. Throw them off the peak. Don't kill them, but do make them cry.

SQH, meanwhile, has now seen MBJ in an outer disciple uniform and had a whole bunch of new awakenings on top of all the other things he already knew about himself.

And, in a twist of dramatic irony... Qing Jing's first disciple to ever have demonic heritage decides the dorms are a no-go after one night because, to him, they are broiling hot, how can anyone sleep in this heat, and chooses to go sleep in the wood shed instead.

[she-is-ovarit]

I see straight and bisexual women suffer so much from male partners in the smaller ways.

When he doesn't put the time in for you and misses events that you would never miss for him—such as your birthday—or maybe you always schedule birthday parties for him and he has never returned the favor.

When you take a ton of photos of him on your phone and he has maybe four or five of you and you've been together for years.

When you've spent nearly every holiday with his family and he's only gone over to your family's place with you for the holidays once or twice (just enough to argue that he has) and you've been together for years. And maybe he argues that it's because of the distance because, surprise surprise, you have moved to a closer location to his family rather than the other way around.

When he has fathered a child from another woman yet you frequently find yourself stepping in to protect the wellbeing of this child because he doesn't put much effort into bonding with them and gradually you find yourself assuming a lot of the emotional and logistical parenting duties.

When he's hyperfocused on his job and money and seems to consider whatever job or career you have as more of a "hobby". Or, the reverse, you have a well paying and meaningful career and make more of an income than him and he becomes incredibly resentful of you and insecure in himself.

When you put in effort to cook decent and healthy meals for both of you for lunch or dinner and he puts in no effort to learn how to cook or intention to nutritionally take care of you.

When every show or movie you watch, or any game you play, seems to always depend on his preferences and he's unwilling to try anything new that you're interested in.

When he always drives and is rarely if ever the passenger, and if you express you'd like to drive (and be more in control of where you go and the safety of your lives) he becomes reactive in some way.

I can really go on, but the point is, when he is the main character in both of your lives and doesn't practice even a basic standard of consideration and respect for you (except for a short time after you've had an argument maybe), don't ignore this and don't let this go. Forget how he seems to know exactly the right things to say and how to say them to you to smooth things over and pay more attention instead to his actions and behaviors. Would you do these same neglectful things to him?

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Avisos cuddle pile

Idea given to me by my wonderful mutual @katy-the-same-as-tsuki, go check her art out, she's amazing.

You were out in Avisos, Bael having ordered that Naberius, Stolas and Amon show you around the country. Compered to Gehenna's cozy atmosphere, Tartaros' opulence or Hades' beauty, Avisos was a lot louder, more visually stimulating than anything you've seen in hell so far. It was as if every building was begging you to pay attention to it.

The three demons you were with were bickering constantly, for God knows what dump reason. They would try to drag you in different directions since they each wanted to show you their favorite part of the country.

Stolas: "We should visit the bird caffee! You love birds, don't you, Mc?"

Naberius: "You only want to go to the bird caffee because you like it. Mc is clearly an intelectual and is more interested in learning about the culture of Hell. We should go to the National Museum of Avisos."

Amon: "I think we should go to that restaurant that serves his majesty Beelzebub's semen, I'm kind of hungry."

Naberius: "Kind of hungry? You haven't eaten in months! I'm surprised you're still standing."

You were starting to get bored of hearing them constantly arguing, so, after circling the same 5 buildings because none of them were paying attention to where they were going, you decide to speak up.

Mc: "I know where I want to go."

All of them at once: "Where?"

Mc: "The castle. I want to go take a nap in the castle."

Stolas and Naberius looked shocked but Amon cheered.

Amon: "I like the way you think."

Stolas: "But we have so many places to visit"

Amon: "You heard them. To bed we go!"

Amon picks you up and rushes you to the castle. He was surprisingly fast and strong for someone that always complains about being hungry. Naberius and Stolas turn into their animal forms to chase after Amon.

Bael was on the phone trying to stop 5 different financial crisises at once. Someone from Hades died in Avisos while in a shop run by someone from Paradise Lost, but the guy from Paradise Lost wasn't affiliated with Avisos, but he was doing business there so now it's a logistical nightmare as to who is trully resposible for the death. Bael groaned as he hit his head to the table.

Bael: "Bell, when I catch you, Bell-"

He's inturupted by his three headaches nobles exquarting the guest of honor, the child of Solomon themselves. Bael wanted to make a good impression in front of you since you could help him with some of the external conflicts (and totally not because he has a crush on you).

Bael tried to put on his most charming smile in front of you, but everyone in the room just looks at him with shock, disgust and concern.

Naberius: "Bael... are you alright?"

Stolas: "Did you eat what you cooked again?"

Amon: "I think his fake majesty passed away and this is his mummified corpse. I heard some demons do that after death."

Amon was getting ready to open the flash on his phone as a way of simulating the lighting of a candle for a dead one, but Bael whipped the phone out of the younger demon's hand.

Bael: "I am not dead. Ugh, how was your outing together? You got back quite shortly. Has anything caught your interest, Mc?"

Mc: "Yes, actually."

You grab Bael by the wrist and drag him from his chair.

Bael: "What do you think you're doing, child of Solomon? I have very important matters to attend to."

Mc: "You need sleep. Think of it this way, if you die of exhaustion, who's going to run the country?"

Bael couldn't argue with your logic even though he wanted to. He just let himself be guided outside the office. The three other nobles followed you to the castle's garden, where you layed with Bael. The three looked at you confused before understanding what your plan was.

Naberius transformed into his Cerberus form and curled up around you and Bael, Stolas nestled on your lap and Amon spooned you from behind while you hugged Bael.

Bael: "This is very sweet of you, but I have a job to do and there's a lot of tension between-"

Mc: "Sleep."

Bael finally gave in and stopped struggling, giving in to his exhaustion. Hearing his soft snors as he nuzzled to your chest and Naberius' fur almost made you want to record it as a souvenir from Avisos. No shop could sell the serenity you felt right now.

When everyone fell asleep, a sole fly landed on your arm. At least in spirit, all of Avisos was here.

[myeuphoricmindset]

As the world burns | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary | You’ve been surviving in The Upside Down with Eddie for months, but tonight you and Eddie know you’re dying. So, would you sleep with the last person alive if it was Eddie Munson?

“Do you remember when you were younger and someone would ask if you’d sleep with a certain person if they were the last person on earth?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Well, here we are.”

Warnings/Tags | 18+ Unprotected sex, Hair pulling, Soft Dom Eddie (if that’s a thing?), Talks about death and world ending, Comfort Eddie, This one-shot is not about fighting or the Upside Down, it's focused on Eddie and the reader during their final night. Please let me know if I missed a warning.

Word count | 3.8k

Just keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Control your breathing. Don't let them hear you. Don’t stop.

Don’t stop.

Don’t stop.

It’s not unusual for you to disassociate during fearful situations. You’ve been doing this for so long that your body knows the motions and your mind wanders to keep you from panicking.

You focus on the back of Eddie’s jacket as you run behind him. DIO is the three-letter word that you say over and over in your head. You’ve asked Eddie about the band during the late nights of hiding beneath the trees. He is always happy to tell you about their music. Metal bands were never your thing and the you before The Upside Down wouldn’t have cared about Dio, but you’re not the person you were before. When living in darkness for so long you’re desperate to hear about anything that brings joy, especially when it’s bringing Eddie joy.

The crunch of twigs under your feet breaks your focus on your thoughts and you snap back to reality. Your leg gets caught in something and before you have a chance to look at what it is —you fall. A sharp pain ripples through your foot and you let out a cry.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Eddie says with panic in his voice. He kneels and touches your leg. His eyes are filled with fear as he meets your eyes.

“I-I’m okay.” You try standing up, but bite down on an uncontrollable whimper.

Eddie instantly wraps his arm around your waist, tossing your arm over his shoulder and lifting you. “I’ve got you.” He looks around the woods, making sure you both aren’t in danger. Loud screeching above grabs your attention and Eddie tightens his grip around your hip. “We’ve gotta keep moving. The cabin isn’t far. Will you be okay with my help?”

You nod. “Yes, let’s go.”

With Eddie’s support, you both make it to the cabin. He was right, it wasn’t far. Relief washes over you when the door closes behind you both and Eddie helps you down on the dusty couch. It’s obvious this place hasn’t seen a soul in years or maybe ever. The logistics of The Upside Down are hard to grasp. You only know that it’s a direct reflection of the real world. Is there a family currently sitting on this couch in the real world? Are they happy? Are they warm and safe? These are thoughts that always run through your mind when you and Eddie find a new place to hideout.

“There, that should hold,” Eddie says as he shifts the dining table in front of the door. He wipes his hands on his black jeans and takes a deep breath before joining you on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I should have been paying attention.” You say as you look down at your foot which is still tender.

Eddie looks at you. “Don’t apologize. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You hold his stare. His big brown eyes bring you so much comfort in this horrible world. You could have been stuck with anyone here, but you got stuck with Eddie Munson and that alone gives you hope for the future. Maybe someday you both will get out of here alive and live a happy and safe life.

Stop.

Stop telling yourself lies. This is it. There is no life outside of this. There is no happy ending. After months of running this is where it ends. It’s time to accept it.

“Does it even matter if I’m okay or not? We will be dead soon anyway.” You sigh and sink into the couch.

“You’re right. I just don’t like that you’re in pain near the end.” Eddie says softly.

“It’s just tender.”

Eddie looks at you and then around the cabin. “It looks different.”

“You’ve been here before?”

Eddie stands up and walks around the small living space. “A few times. This cabin belongs to Hopper. It’s the safest place I could think of for our…” he trails off and then clears his throat. “Final hours.”

You sit up on the couch and watch Eddie as he looks around. You never knew Eddie or his life before you found him unconscious in this dreadful place. You didn’t care who he was before, you were just so happy to not be alone. Trying to survive alone for two months does something to you. You end up so desperate for human contact that it ends up driving you insane. Eddie was a fallen angel in this place you call hell. You may have healed him, but he saved you.

“I’m glad we are together. You know, in the end.” You say. And you mean that. You’re glad to be with Eddie in the end. As this world burns up you’re at peace knowing you won’t burn alone.

“Me too.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s hard to genuinely smile when you know you’re dying soon. Eddie leans against the doorframe and looks at you. His eyes soften as he takes you in from a distance. You rest your head on the couch cushion and stare back. A small smile spreads on his face.

“What?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes drink you up. The weight of his stare has you shifting a little. “You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”

You roll your eyes as your cheeks burn. “Stop,”

His expression turns serious. “I’m not lying. You deserve to hear that. It should really be the last thing you hear.”

“Maybe it will be if you don’t die before me.” You say teasingly. It’s weird to joke in a situation like this, but it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

“That’s not going to happen.” He assures you as he walks back to the couch and sits next to you.

“How do you know? You could trip over something and hit your head on the counter. Or you could choke on a chip from our last remaining bag. Anything is possible.”

He laughs. “Imagine if a chip took me out. After everything I’ve been through that’s what got me. A chip.”

Now you’re laughing. “Yeah, forget the Demobats or Vecna. Watch out for the damn chips.”

Laughter fills the cabin and it’s as if the walls haven’t heard such a pleasant sound in so long that it echoes your voices, needing more.

As you catch your breath you imagine what’s to come and your smile slowly fades. “Where do you think we would be right now if we didn’t notice the atmosphere cracking?”

You think about it often. Where you would be and what you would be doing if Eddie didn’t realize that the cracks in the atmosphere were early signs of the Upside Down being destroyed. Eddie believes that Eleven found a way to take down this world. The first signs were the doors being sealed shut. There is no way in or out —no way to go back home. That’s when you both started to focus on surviving here. Until you can’t. Now there are fires consuming everything here. It started small and now it’s almost impossible to find shelter that’s not burned down. Today the sky is on fire and you both know, this is it.

“I don’t know. Probably running the streets looking for the next place to sleep.” He answers.

“Speaking of sleep, does this place have a decent bed? I don’t think I can sleep on the floor another night. My back is killing me from last night.” The thought of that hard ground in the woods makes you tense.

Eddie chuckles and stands up, offering you his hand. “You think I wouldn’t find a bed for our last night?”

You smile and follow him into the bedroom. Eddie removes the comforter that’s covered in dust, revealing the sheets in good condition. The pillows get tossed too. You are used to using your arm as a pillow now anyway.

Eddie and you strip off the dirty clothes from the day, leaving you both in your underwear. He is shirtless, but you’re thankful that your tank top is still clean to sleep in. This is normal. You aren’t fazed by sleeping in bed with Eddie anymore. It’s become a comfort to lay next to him at night. In a world of nightmares, you find yourself dreaming peacefully. But, tonight is possibly your last night alive and sleeping seems nearly impossible.

“Eddie?” You whisper into the silence.

“Mm?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No, not sure I can.” He says softly.

“Me either.”

A loud screech from outside catches you off guard and you jump causing the bed to shake.

“It’s okay. They won’t find us here. Not tonight.” Eddie says as he shifts in bed to face you. He lightly rubs your arm. He’s only ever touched you in comfort as a friend. You guys have never crossed the line between friends and lovers, even with the noticeable tension between you both. The lingering stares and soft touches have always been laced with something more.

“Can you hold me?” You ask nervously. Tonight you are not alone. Eddie is here, next to you, as the world ends. But somehow it’s not enough. You need to feel him. Because when everything goes black his voice isn’t the only thing you want to hold onto.

Eddie doesn’t answer, he simply wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. You inhale sharply. Your body immediately relaxes. He feels like a warm blanket.

“Is that better?” He whispers in your ear.

You can’t form words, so you just nod. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck. You can feel him inhale and exhale, his chest rising and falling against your back. When he exhales a breath it spills over your chest sending goosebumps down your body.

“Are you cold?” He asks.

“No, I’m fine.” You’re more than fine, but you don’t say that.

His fingers brush over your arm and you freeze, forgetting how to breathe.

“Are you sure? You have goosebumps.”

You smile, even though he can’t see it. “It’s not because I’m cold. It’s your breath on my skin.”

“Oh.” He says softly.

He moves his head back slightly, his lips brushing your neck and he breathes. He breathes slowly and deeply, letting his breath hit your neck. He’s teasing you, being playful like he always is, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips. Your eyes go wide and you bring your hand to your mouth in embarrassment.

Eddie laughs softly and squeezes his arms around your waist. “I haven’t heard a sound like that in…shit, I don’t know.”

Your face turns red. “Well, you won’t hear it again.” You smack his arm, still embarrassed.

Eddie’s laugh lingers and then fades. He pulls you even closer, and now you can feel him completely against your backside. He brings his mouth back to your ear. “Is it wrong to wonder what it would be like?” He whispers.

“What?”

“To touch you. Kiss you.” His lips brush your ear. “Fuck you.”

Your breath catches. “You don’t know what you're talking about.”

Eddie scoffs quietly. “I know exactly what I’m thinking about.” His thumb brushed over the hem of your tank top. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Eddie…”

“Do you remember when you were younger and someone would ask if you’d sleep with a certain person if they were the last person on earth?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Well, here we are.” He pulls you onto your back as he sits on his forearm, looking down at you. “And my question is…would you?” His voice is low and it brings back the goosebumps that once disappeared.

You take in his question, thinking about it as if you don’t already know the answer. But you hesitate because even though you feel lucky in this situation—maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s settling because this is what the cards have dealt him and he can’t do anything about it. You don’t want to be the ‘well, what other choice do I have’.

You sigh. “I don’t want to be the pity last fuck.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. I’m serious.” You say, turning back to your side and away from him.

He laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. Do you really think you would be a pity fuck? No, you’ve got that wrong. Being with you in any capacity is a fucking privilege.”

You look over your shoulder to meet his eyes. He gives you a soft smile, but his eyes are serious. “Then, yes. My answer to your question is yes.”

Eddie's eyes glimmer with desire as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back against him. His hair tickles your neck as he moves his head back to the crook of your neck. “How do you want it?” He asks, his lips brushing your neck again.

“Like it’s the last time.”

Eddie chuckles against your skin and you can’t help but laugh because it tickles. But that laugh turns into a gasp when Eddie lowers his head to kiss your collarbone as his fingers slide down with the outside of your panties and slowly back up. There is no hesitation in his touch as if he’s thought about doing this before.

He kisses up your neck as he moves his hand back down. He’s not wasting any time. You arch your back which causes your butt to press up against him. Eddie let’s put a moan in your ear. He’s already hard against you and he feels big.

“Can you feel me?” He says grabbing your hip as he pressed harder against you.

“Yes.” You breathe.

He grabs your hand and rubs it gently against the outside of his boxers. “Feel how turned on you make me?”

You nod as you feel him, your arm outstretched behind you. He’s against you like the big spoon and you’re the little one. You can't see his face, but you feel him everywhere. Eddie guides your hand from his boxers to your own breast. He brings your hand up your tank top and pulls your bra down enough to guide your hand to cup your breast. You’re confused but follow his lead.

His hand leaves yours and travels down your stomach to the seam of your panties. He whispers in your ear, “Touch yourself as I touch you. Imagine your hand as mine.”

“Okay,”

Eddie's fingers slip under your panties and travel between your legs. He uses his elbow to open your legs wider. His finger lightly moves over your clit and you think your eyes might have rolled back at his touch.

“Mm, Eddie…” You moan.

“Touch yourself. Let me see.”

You move your thumb over your nipple and massage your breast as you remember his request. It feels good, but it feels even better with his hand between your legs at the same time.

“That’s it.” He says watching you. “Doesn’t it feel good?” His finger moves in a perfect circular motion and you wonder if he’s playing you like his guitar.

“Yes, so good.”

“Good. Such a good girl.” He says between kisses on your neck.

His fingers move down where you are soaked for him. You hold your breath with anticipation. He rubs his index finger around your entrance, teasing you. “So wet. Fuck. I can’t wait to feel you.”

You’re aching so badly for him. You look over your shoulder and say, “Then feel me. I don’t want your fingers. I want all of you.”

A deep groan of delight comes from his throat. He doesn’t say anything. He grabs your panties and swiftly rips them off, causing you to jump. He kisses your shoulder and smiles, “Don’t think you need those anymore.”

“Probably not.” You laugh.

Eddie doesn’t change positions, he presses on your back in request to have you bend toward your knees a little. “Atta girl,” He says as he guides himself behind your legs. You’ve had sex before and you’re familiar with doggy style, and even though this is basically the same, laying down like this isn’t something you’ve tried before.

You can feel the tip of his cock press against you. You grab the edge of the mattress as you wait. Eddie slides his hand between your legs and slightly lifts your leg to gain more access. “Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yes.”

And within seconds he’s pushing into you. You suck in a breath at how big he feels inside you. You arch your back further, which gives him more access. He whimpers and drives into you deeper.

“Oh god,” You moan into the mattress. It’s slow but so good. The position he has you in is almost a tease at what he can do. As if he wanted a quick taste of what it’s like.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he moves in and out and his breath is warm against your ear. It’s dark in the room and you aren’t facing him so you are fully focused on his deep thrusts and every part of your body that he’s touching.

“You feel so good, I need more.” He says breathlessly.

Eddie pulls out, leaving you aching. He flips you on your back as he moves on top of you. He looks down at you and smiles. You notice his hand moving to his cock and he wraps his fingers around himself as he looks at you. “I like the way you feel on me.” He says as he moves his hand up and down his wet length.

You blush at the sight of him touching himself. “Oh?”

“Don’t be shy.” He leans down and kisses you.

His lips are soft and gentle. You almost melt into the mattress. His tongue slides over your bottom lip. You are about to give him access to your mouth but your lips part for him in a moan as he slides his cock into you. Eddie tastes the moan on your tongue. He tasting, touching, and fucking you so perfectly. There isn’t one part of his body that isn’t touching yours.

A loud bang and crack come from outside the cabin. The room is now a little brighter —a little warmer. Eddie notices the worry in your eyes and he kisses your cheek. “Stay with me. Focus on this.”

“Okay,” And as the world burns around you both, you moan Eddie’s name and drown yourself in love instead of fear.

Eddie thrusts harder and as he moves in and out he brings his mouth to your breasts. Your hands find his hair, needing something to grab onto.

“Fuck,” He moans against your nipple as you tug on his hair.

“You like that?”

He looks up at you with a devilish smile. “Mm, yes. Harder.” Eddie’s voice is low and primal.

His soft curls tangle around your fingers as you embed them deeper, getting a better grip. As Eddie pushes into you, your fingers pull back on his hair. He lets out a moan as his head falls back. A laugh spills from your lips and you bite his exposed throat lightly.

“Jesus H. Christ,” He groans. He kisses you hard as his hands grab your hips and he drives into you harder and faster.

You both are lost in each other as the world falls apart. This is exactly what you needed. Exactly what you wanted. And you know Eddie feels the same. He’s as desperate for you as you are for him.

Your body begins to shake as the warm build-up begins to reach its peak. Eddie looks at you and says between moans, “Together,” and you find his lips in answer. Stars flicker around the room as you come undone and the sound of Eddie’s release sends you riding the climax longer. His shaking body falls beside yours, still holding you close. He doesn’t let you go.

He plants small kisses against your shoulder. “Last person on earth or not and I’d still consider that the best fuck I’ve ever had.” You laugh and agree.

As you try catching your breath you seem acutely aware of the loud cracking and screeching outside the cabin. At first, you thought you were hot because of what just happened, but it’s the room. Your eyes flick to the window and notice a subtle red hue in the sky.

“It’s the fires. I think it’s happening.” Eddie says softly.

You look at him nervously. “Why aren’t you scared?”

He pulls you close. “I’ve died before —or at least thought I was dying. The first time I was in the arms of a friend, I wasn’t alone in what I thought were my final moments. And here I am again. I won’t be alone and I know that it’s peaceful when you’re lucky enough to be held by someone you love. I mean, fuck, I’m still scared as shit but I’m not alone and that sounds more terrifying.”

A tear rolls down your cheek. You both lay facing each other, almost nose to nose. The noises outside become louder and the red hue is illuminating the room. Eddie pulls the sheet over your heads as his eyes stay on yours.

“I’m right here with you. We are together. Okay?” Eddie says as he gently cradles your face in his hands.

“Okay,” You whisper.

You wrap your hands around his wrists as your legs intertwine together. You’re both so close that you could be one. The sheet covers you both creating a safety cocoon. There is another loud bang followed by the sound of something exploding. It shakes the cabin and vibrates the bed. You close your eyes in fear.

“Look at me,” Eddie says.

You take a breath and look at him. You’re already entering darkness soon, so why not enjoy the view before it’s gone forever? If Eddie’s brown eyes are the last thing you see then it’s the perfect way to go.

Eddie wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb as he whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

‘You deserve to hear that. It should really be the last thing you hear.’ You don’t know if you’re crying because this is it, you’re dying, or if it’s because Eddie’s last words were for you.

A blinding light flashes in the room and a loud bang breaks through the cabin. Both of your eyes close with instinct and you hold your breath. You and Eddie cling to each other in hopes that you won’t lose each other as you enter the afterlife.

It’s silent.

Until it’s not.

“Eddie?” A faint female voice calls from a distance.

You both don’t move, completely frozen in each other's arms. Is this heaven? Is this hell?

“Eddie?!” Another voice calls. It’s a little deeper, but you can’t tell who it is. Or what’s going on.

You finally open your eyes and just as Eddie’s brown eyes meet yours the voice calls him again, but from inside the bedroom. Only feet away. The room that you thought you died in. This isn’t hell or Heaven, it’s home.

“Eddie, are you here?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide with shock and hope. Hope for our future, because this isn’t how it ends.

Only one word escapes Eddie’s lips before he smiles. “Dustin!”

**

Part 2:

[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Roman is determined to make things right with Iris.

Chapter: 4/6

Word Count: 1211

Warnings: Praise, very mild arguing, mention of previous divorce.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

Iris walked into the meeting room, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Setting in the room with some the icons of her childhood such as The Rock, Triple H and Shawn Michaels with them all depending on her to secure the best deal possible for the company.

As she took her seat, she saw Roman sitting across from her. He gave her a small nod, but Iris quickly looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of 'acknowledging' him because well, fuck that.

The meeting began, and They started discussing the details of what WWE would want out of the deal. Iris listened intently, taking notes and asking questions when necessary.

Iris was impressed by the ambition and determination of the WWE executives and top stars. They wanted to expand their reach and increase their revenue, and they were willing to go all out to make it happen.

As the meeting progressed, Iris noticed that Roman was paying close attention to her. He would glance at her every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction to everything that was being discussed.

"I understand your concerns, but I think we can work out a deal that benefits both parties," Iris said, her voice calm and professional. "We can negotiate terms that ensure that the deal is mutually beneficial and that the rights of both parties are protected so that we get everything WWE requires of the deal, I don't see Netflix or their Attorneys giving us very much push back on any of this."

The WWE executives nodded, impressed by her knowledge and confidence.

"We appreciate your input, Ms. Taylor." Triple H said. "We were looking for a lawyer who can handle the details and help us navigate the legal landscape of the deal in a timely manner so we can get the ball rolling on getting the product out to our fans as soon as possible."

"We knew you were the right choice when Roman recommended you" The Rock spoke up.

Iris could barely hide her surprise at The Rock's words. She hadn't expected Roman to recommend her to the WWE, especially after the way things had ended between them.

"Roman recommended me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

The Rock nodded. "Yeah, he said you were a lawyer and that he trusted you to do a good job."

Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not expecting his cousin to bring him up.

Iris glanced at Roman, trying to read his expression. Focusing back in on the task at hand, the meeting continued, with the WWE executives discussing the logistics of the deal. Iris tried to focus on the conversation, but her mind kept wandering back to Roman. It was driving her crazy being this distracted when she's used to being laser focused when talking to a client.

After another hour or so of discussion, the meeting finally came to an end. The WWE executives thanked Iris for her input and left the room, leaving her alone with Roman, and Paul who left when Roman shot him a look requesting privacy.

Iris gathered her notes and papers, shoving them into her briefcase. She was about to leave when she heard Roman's voice.

"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

Iris hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted to talk to him. But something in his voice made her stop.

"Fine," she said, turning to face him. "What do you want to talk about?"

Roman took a step closer to her, his expression serious.

"I just wanted to apologize," he said. "For what happened at Smackdown. I was an ass, and I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Iris raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"You're apologizing now, after?" she asked. "Why? because I'm representing the company you work for in negotiations?"

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"No, it's not just because of that," he said. "I've been thinking about what happened, and I realized that I was wrong. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry for that."

Iris studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity.

"You know, you could have just said that instead of making things worse at Smackdown," she said, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

Roman nodded, looking down at the floor.

"I know, I know," he said. "I was stupid. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you in the process. I'm not used to being... vulnerable. I'm sorry for that, too."

Roman looked up at Iris, his expression soft.

"I just got divorced," he said quietly. "It was a messy, painful process. We have five kids together... And I don't know if I'm ready to feel again. I don't know if I'm ready to open myself up to someone new."

Iris softened a bit at his words. She could see the pain in his eyes, and she understood what he was going through.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, her voice gentle. "Divorce is never easy, especially when it's messy and there are kids involved."

Roman took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"I know you have no reason to say yes," he said. "But I was wondering if you would let me take you to dinner. As an apology for everything that happened between us."

Iris hesitated, torn between her anger and her curiosity. She didn't want to give in to Roman's request, but there was a part of her that was tempted.

"Why should I?" she asked, her voice guarded. "You've already apologized. What more do you want from me?"

Roman looked at her, his eyes pleading.

"I want a chance to make things right," he said. "I want to show you that I'm sorry"

Iris was silent for a moment, considering his words. She knew that she shouldn't give in to his request, but there was something about his sincerity that made her reconsider.

"Fine," she said finally. "One dinner. But don't think that this means anything."

As Iris agreed to have dinner with Roman, he smiled at her, relieved that she had accepted his invitation. But then, as he was about to thank her, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Good girl," he said, his voice soft and low.

Iris's eyes widened in surprise at Roman's words. She hadn't expected him to say that, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Roman realized what he had said and quickly tried to cover it up.

"I mean, thank you," he said hastily. "Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me."

Iris tried to push down the arousal that she felt at Roman's praise, but it was too late. She could feel her body responding to his words.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman could sense the change in her demeanor, and he couldn't help but notice the way she'd been flustered and it sent a thrill through him.

"I'll pick you up at 7," he said, "Wear something nice."

"Yes, My tribal chief." She said sarcastically

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[raayllum]

Been also thinking about the line between "the text wasn't meant to be interpreted this way but it's a solid reading / line of critique (with caveats)" (#1) versus "the text wasn't meant to be interpreted this way and doing so actively worsens the story they're trying to tell" (#2).

Going to do some TDP specific examples.

But basically: When your in-depth reading takes away from the Surface Level reading rather than providing contribution, that's usually a good sign you're going into a story with 1) an expectation or reading that was never promised or 2) are weakening the story through a typically unfounded analysis.

A TDP specific example is the relationship between Viren and Harrow. Canonically, textually, they had a brotherly relationship, both in the dialogue that Viren conveys ("I think of you as my brother" / "You're my brother") and in their persistent parallel framing with Callum and Ezran.

However, that doesn't stop many fans (myself included) from reading a romantic and sexual attraction between Viren and Harrow, especially in their youth. Not only do they just have the vibes, parallels to other couples, and subtext, Viren very much places Harrow's importance in his life in a way that's usually reserved for lovers. Viren having been in love (or ongoing) just makes sense. That doesn't mean any of us are expecting TDP to ever make it Canon — like I said, it's canonically very much Not that — but it does add a layer to Viren always wanting to 1) matter to Harrow as much as he does, and 2) his frustration and severance with Harrow because he wasn't getting the acceptance and affection that he wanted.

This is what I would consider #1 avenue: it doesn't take away from their dynamic, and to me adds a layer, but it allows the text to stand as is. Viren wants Harrow's love and attention in the gradual and then sharp deterioration of their dynamic. All I'm changing is a little bit of the why per my personal reading.

Meanwhile, if I went the route of "Yeah I know canon shows Harrow appreciating, taking Viren into account, and smiling at / loving him, but I don't think Harrow cared at all and he was just a bad friend to Viren for years" then... Yeah I could read it that way — it's not as though Harrow or Viren were hardly perfect friends to each other, and Harrow's discard of Viren is harsh (even if it was a long time coming in a lot of ways) — but what does that leave me with? Frustration, maybe; a poor view of Harrow; immense sympathy towards Viren? At best, I'd maybe resent how Viren learns the lessons Harrow was trying to teach him by paying for it with his life; at worst, I'd think the narrative was being fundamentally unfair to Viren without recognizing that his previous modes of self sacrifice were always couched in ego, shirking the immediate consequences of being saved, or that he was routinely willing to sacrifice everyone around him first, including his own children.

This is where we get into area #2, and I see it happen all the time with TDP, whether it's from the series not portraying monarchies as a bad thing or the ever persistent "issue" of dark magic. Quite frankly, it's silly to walk into TDP post-S1 expecting dark magic to be anything beyond — given all the current textual evidence — "morally complicated" magic at best. Yes it can be used for good things, but that doesn't automatically make it good, and while we could spin logistical wheels for ages, the Point the story is Making with dark magic is about power, desperation, love, self-destruction, violation, and agency, and how all those things can overlap or counteract each other. Toting out "well I think dark magic is blanket statement Okay and Good actually" misses all of that, and actively makes your reading and experience with TDP worse. The surface level reading is important to take into account when examining a piece of media, otherwise it can lead to a very warped view and effect your ability to be well founded in your reading of the text.

That doesn't mean you can't desire a more morally neutral form of dark magic — plenty of fantasy series and stories have it, and some I adore (like "the legend of Zelda" — but it does mean accepting the story is never going to broadly speaking do that, and it's Okay that it won't. I'd be silly if I walked into LOZ expecting them to get into the ethics of its form of (non) dark magic of using monsters for spell parts because it's 1) a game mechanic and 2) it's not interested in the ethics of it, and no amount of me saying "well it should be" will change that, nor is it a Story Flaw that it doesn't.

This is all to say that I think asking "Why would the writers do this?" is one of the most useful, if basic, questions to ask when it comes to analysis and when figuring out whether your viewpoint is falling into avenue #1 of being grounded, or avenue #2 of veering towards warped territory.

For example, if I take Rayla not being by Callum's side when he's struggling over the pearl reveal in 6x06 as an indicator she doesn't care about him, I'm doing a deep dive that ignores all the very Surface Level emphasized scenes of Rayla caring about and supporting Callum a whole lot. I could make the claim she doesn't care based on that scene, but it wouldn't be well founded because it's ignoring miles of other much more prevalent, consistent scenes of her being there for him; it's not a well founded claim.

For something less obvious, let's look at 5x08. While Callum could've given Finnegrin the wrong spell on purpose, as some fans have thoughtfully proposed, as a sneaky wink for die hard fans... why would the authors do that? What does the story gain from that reading or intention? Well, it makes it seem like Callum was less desperate in his dealings with Finnegrin, which makes him doing dark magic afterwards come off worse. It also lessens the battle Callum has throughout that episode for feeling in control and recognizing that he can't always be. It's a reading that, in my opinion, not only strays away from the surface level reading, but is one removes elements from the text that the text would otherwise be stronger for having. In comparison, after all, if Callum gave his version of the right spell without thinking it through, he did so entirely out of desperation, which better affirms just how desperate and worn down he had to be to do dark magic, and is another instance in the episode of him feeling very much out of control (especially since we don't see the 3rd with dark magic on screen, so otherwise, we'd only have him punching Finnegrin as an example and nothing else).

Same thing with the old (now debunked) theory of Callum's bio dad being elven in nature. It's an interesting idea, exploring the implications and backstory and how'd grapple with it, but it'd weaken what canon is actively striving for, which is that Callum's magic use is special precisely because he's an ordinary human who's gained primal magic, and having elven ancestry would counteract that. It doesn't mean that the idea isn't a Good one or that it's not fun to explore in fanon, but there's a lot of reasons the story isn't (or decided not to) have it be canon, because it was stronger for the story they Wanted to tell for it not to be.

Sometimes, as fans this means acknowledging that what we want or prefer in a story is just blatantly not what's being set up, because the story is going to do things regardless of what we want or personally like. That doesn't mean those decisions are bad, and it also doesn't mean those elements or decisions or constructions are beyond critique, but it does mean to ask yourself some key questions:

Is there anything my reading is missing? (ie. if TDP shouldn't have monarchs and that's the critical focus, we lose the messages about leadership, family, and legacy that are engaged with through the vessel of hereditary monarchy)

Why might the story or scene go in certain directions? Are there story constraints (time, tone, etc) they have to abide by?

Am I expecting the story to ascribe to my worldview or preference, and am I open to things that don't do that? If yes, why? If no, why not?

Is my in-depth takeaway aligned with a surface level reading? Are both readings working together, or are they opposed? What other surface level readings might be plausible here for a casual viewer?

Even if this is not personally compelling and/or believable to me, does my personal takeaway match up with the characters' responses to it? Why or why not? (Think every Disney movie where they fall in love in 3 days. Realistic? No. Does it matter within the context of the story? Also no)

Again, this is not to say that 1) what the casual takeaway Is is an objective singular monolith (it isn't) or 2) if the casual takeaway and your interpretation is at odds that you're wrong. But through context clues, we can usually narrow it down as to what the story intends, and that if our interpretations do veer heavily to examine why and to manage expectations accordingly.

Anyways hopefully this all made sense Viren x Harrow forever

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #11] Perry

warnings: birds! jaykay gets kissed in a club :( paint party! fun!! b and jk then proceed to have a totally platonic shower :) normal friend things!!

soundtrack: better - khalid; & cry! - middle part

wc: 5.9k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

Jeongguk ignores the look on Taehyung's face as you enter the bar that evening. It's not the hug that Jeongguk greets you with that's unusual, nor your typically sparkling appearance - but the smile on Jeongguk's lips? Yeah. Taehyung hasn't seen one like that in a while.

Still, he doesn't make a big deal of it, for Danbi's following just behind you. He's far more interested in his attempts (and failures) to chat her up, instead.

Namjoon watches on with shallow curiosity. His watchful eyes lounge on you as he takes a sip on his drink, a little more reserved than the others. Taehyung and Jimin greet you and Danbi like old friends, and in a way, it sort of feels like they are.

The club is empty - hasn't opened to punters yet, and won't for another half an hour. The suppliers hired for the paint cannons are still setting up; doing test runs into an empty space where patrons should be. It's strange to see this perspective of a club. Like a liminal space, it feels like you shouldn't be there - but the boys are unphased. Are used to it by now.

"And Hoseok?" Jeongguk questions when he notices the lack of sunshine shadowing behind you.

"Having drinks with the boys," you tell him without much care. You forget Jeongguk isn't as intricately weaved into your social life as he is into your personal life.

"The boys?" 

He doesn't mean to sound so affronted, but he'd always just assumed it was the singular boy; that your little trio was a friendship that existed within a vacuum. Of course, it doesn't. You've an entire social circle that he's none the wiser of.

You pay his confusion no mind. "Yeah. How are you? How have you been?"

The conversation moves on, Jeongguk leading you into the room behind the bar in which they're pregaming.

"It's technically the staff room," he says with a shrug. "But what the boss doesn't know can't hurt him."

There's an airiness to his demeanour; his tipsy brain just as fluffy as the clouds that float around the ends of rainbows. There's safety there. No promises of gold, just certainty of a stable foundation. 

It's a side to him you've never had the luxury of witnessing before, but part of you feels like you always knew he'd be like this. Always knew how he'd smile after a few drinks; how his giggle would sound just that little bit brighter.

"No Seoyeon tonight?" Jimin asks Yoongi as he arrives just a little after you. His cheeks are pink, the clammy heat of the club already getting to him, even when it's empty. Namjoon passes him a bottle of beer, unopened. Yoongi's unphased. Clamps the soft metal cap between his teeth and prizes it off, before he takes a sip and shakes his head.

"Nah, nah, she just dropped me off. Has brunch tomorrow with her friends so doesn't wanna be hungover," he explains as he takes a seat next to Taehyung.

Jeongguk leans over to you, quietly clueing you up. "His fiancée."

"Ah," you nod, before Yoongi turns his attention to you and Danbi.

You're reintroduced, and are quick to learn that Jeongguk and Jimin only ever seem to refer to you as Disco Ball amongst their friends. Yoongi mentions it first - 'you really do look like a disco ball' - but the rest of the boys chime in agreement. 

There's protest from you. Sure, you've got enough glitter to decorate a Christmas card on your eyelids, but your outfit is pretty subdued. Jeongguk had told you not to wear anything fancy - "the paint is water-based, but just in case. Don't want you to wreck your favourite party dress, or anything like that." - and so you'd listened. 

He doesn't tell you, 'cause he doesn't think you'll need it, but Jeongguk brought a spare shirt with him. Just a white one. Big. Wasn't sure if you'd think about the logistics of a paint party - but it isn't your first rodeo. You've been to a handful of events like these in the past, and know what to expect. 

You're in a big white shirt of your own, wearing it like a dress with a flannel layered on top.  Admittedly, the tights are giving disco ball chic - fishnets with teeny tiny gemstones sparkling underneath the dim lights of the backroom. 

Jeongguk can't decide on how the fuck to describe your style. It's not grunge - too sparkly for that. Equally, there's too much of an edge to you for it to be considered 'girly'. He doesn't understand it. Quite likes it, though. Likes that you're still wearing those black hightops you always seem to be in. 

Normally at the club you'd be in heels - but again, it's not your first rodeo. You know better than to tempt the paint party gods with a stiletto and sopping wet floor combination. Learnt that mistake the hard way back in university.

Jeongguk taps his foot against yours. No one else notices, too busy engaged in their own conversations. When you glance down, you realise why - he's in his converse, too. The only shoes he doesn't mind wrecking. They've been through the wars before. A little paint won't hurt them.

You knock his foot back. He smiles. 

There are no words exchanged, just an understanding; you and he are cut from the same cloth.

You pay attention to everyone else's shoes now. Are looking for other kindred spirits. Jimin's in Chelsea boots- black leather, a little tarnished, in need of a polish. 

Taehyung's in brogues for some reason, and you can't think of a worse shoe to have chosen for such an occasion. So many holes. So much to wreck.

Danbi, ever smart, ever stylish, is in a pair of white sneakers. She knows the game she's come to play. It's why she's in all white, too. 

Yoongi and Namjoon are both sporting Nikes, not too fussed about the evening ahead. 

And so it's just you and Jeongguk. You tap your feet against the floor and smile. "Stop copying me."

"I was here first, Byeol," he banters back, but is cut off by Yoongi declaring the need for you all to play a card game. It's one you don't think you've heard of, but make no objection. With the number of drinking games you've played over the last few years, you're almost certain you'll know it.

He deals cards and you quickly come to realise that you don't know the rules. Jeongguk tells you it's fine - "I'll help you out, c'mere." - and encourages you to show him your cards. He organises them; gets them in an order that will work for the game.

"Hey, I'm just as clueless!" Danbi pouts, and so Jimin grabs her cards to redistribute them. 

"We'll work as a team," he says, eyes flicking over to Taehyung, just to check how he feels about it. Danbi is oblivious, but you catch the way Taehyung raises his brows in Jimin's direction. There's a slight smirk on his lips. 

"Don't mind them," Jeongguk mumbles quietly, just for you to hear. "Jimin's just winding him up. Told Tae if he doesn't make a move that he will instead. Think he's just trying to encourage him. Making him be proactive, yanno?"

"He better bloody be," you muse, taking a sip on the drink Jeongguk had put in front of you when he started messing about with your cards. Tequila slammer. Fucking vile. Does get you fucked up, though.

"Jealous, are we, Byeol?" he smirks, swapping one of your cards with his. "Here, it'll help."

You don't dignify him with a response. It's a stupid thing to tease you about, because you know there's no way in hell Danbi would sleep with Jimin. While sharing is caring, sexual partners aren't something the pair of you have ever shared. Hasn't happened before, and won't happen in the future. It's an unspoken rule.

One that Jeongguk would do well to remember.

The evening carries on just as it began; light banter, drinks far too strong, and electromagnetic force somehow keeping you and Jeongguk attached at the hip. You're in the smoking area far more than you are on the dancefloor. You're not smoking, mind you, just talking nonsense. Making bets. Being stupid. 

"Have you read him yet?" You ask when Jeongguk finally presents you with Perry the paper pigeon.

He shakes his head. Bites his lip. "No. You can do the honours."

He watches your hands as you unfold the paper, but the soft laugh you produce draws his attention to your face. 

"Ask for someone's number," you read out, bemused at how shy Jeongguk apparently is.

He groans. "God, that's so embarrassing."

"Nooo," you laugh, drunk body swaying into his a little. He's giggling too, now. Can't seem to help it. "It's cute."

"So lame."

"Shut up," you beam. "It's a start! A good bloody place to start as well. Something easy."

Jeongguk vehemently disagrees. Tells you as such. Says, "imagine asking for a number and getting rejected over something so simple. Would be mortifying. A very valid fear."

"So you go for a girl you know is interested," you say. "Look, this is the best place for it. Remember how many girls find you on Instagram after they come here? It won't be any different now that you're out from behind the bar. If anything, you've got far more chances!"

He spends the next fifteen minutes moaning about it. You decide a drink is the only remedy to his whining.

You order four Purple Starfuckers from Yeonjun. Jeongguk is offended. Insists he can make them, despite the fact he is quite literally covered head to toe in paint. and has a permanent grin from just how tipsy he is. Yeonjun tells him no. Says the bar is off-limits. Jeongguk says he'll fire him, and Yeonjun just laughs in his face. 

"Alright. Bet you 10,000 you won't remember trying to fire me in the morning."

"Deal."

"Disco Ball, you're our witness," the blue-haired menace winks towards you. "Make sure he pays up."

"Aye, aye, captain," you wink back, and instantly regret the rogue pirate shtick because Jeongguk looks at you like you've got three heads. 

"The fuck?"

"What?"

"Captain," he snorts. "Captain."

"Oh, don't get jealous," you tease. "Is this because you want me to call you Daddy, again?"

This time, Yeonjun stops what he's doing. Looks at the pair of you with a slack jaw and wild eyes. Doesn't know what the fuck is going on between you, but knows he wants to watch every second of it unfold. 

When he serves you shots, he smirks. "Here you go. Captain," he nods in your direction, and then in Jeongguk's. "Daddy."

"Never call me that again," Jeongguk gags. 

"Sure thing, Daddio."

"Oh my God." 

Yeonjun walks away laughing to himself, all very amused. Will never stop calling Jeongguk Daddy now that he knows it'll get a rise out of him. Imagines you'll probably get a very different kind of rise out of him when you call him Daddy, but that's neither here nor there.

"I hate you for that," Jeongguk tells you, and you kind of believe him - but God, that broad smile of his is on full display, and the glitter on your skin is reflecting in his eyes like a clear nights sky. Impossible to feel anything remotely close to hatred around him, you think.

"It doesn't matter," you tell him, having noticed the girl behind the pair of you check him out at least three times since you've been at the bar. You kind of recognise her. Think you must have seen her before, whether it be on his follower's list or in the club. She seems like a safe bet. Interested.

"Girl behind you - look, quickly, but don't make it obvious -" Jeongguk turns around like a deer in headlights. "I said don't make it obvious! The girl with the high pony. She's been looking at you for a while now. I think she's into you."

Suddenly, Jeongguk feels very out of his depth. "Maybe we should go outside."

"Nope," you say so sternly that he feels like he's being told off at school. "Perry says you have to ask a girl for her number. Just a number. It's not a big deal. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She'll say no."

"Boo-hoo. Cry about it. It's two letters, Gguk. One word. It won't ruin your life. Here -" you pass him the final Purple Starfucker "- Down it. You've got this. If she says no, fuck her."

"If she says no to giving me her number, I don't think she'll want to fuck."

"Christ, not literally, Gguk." You spin his shoulders around. Give him a nudge. "Go. Do it."

He takes a breath. Psyches himself up. Swallows back the taste of his shot - which is a lot better than the tequila slammers he's been drinking all night - and catches her eye.

You retreat back a little bit, trying to make yourself look busy. Yeonjun watches on from the bar, even more confused than he was before. Were the two of you not just flirting? Are you not definitely boning? He could have sworn you were.

The DJ transitions into a shitty remix of an old Sean Paul song, and you wish you'd have kept Jeongguk around for a little longer to orchestrate a better soundtrack for him. None of the crowd cares how shitty it is though - cannons are launching buckets of neon paint onto revellers, covering every inch of the place in a technicolour haze. 

Your flannel shirt is in the backrooms, as is your bag. Danbi's handprints are on your tits, yours on her ass, but the rest of your shirt is just a haphazard mess of colour. There's no rhyme nor reason; just paint. So much fucking paint. It feels like you're back at work. 

A mirror runs along the back of the bar, and you use it to observe Jeongguk's adventure. You kind of feel like a proud parent as they begin to talk.

"Hey," the girl smiles. Jeongguk thinks she sounds sweet. A lot raspier than he expected. He quite likes that, though - although he can't really hear her all that well above the bass of the speakers. The way her lips curve thanks to his approach makes him feel a lot more secure in his endeavour. "You're normally behind the bar, right? I think I've seen you before."

"Oh," Jeongguk cringes, a little embarrassed. This is why he doesn't go for punters. He hates that there's never a clean slate. Always feels unfair. "Yeah, yeah. I manage the bar. I'm surprised you noticed."

"Well you do a very good job," she compliments, twirling a little hair from her ponytail with her index finger.

"I do?"

"I keep coming back," she shrugs. "So you must do. Could be something to do with how cute the bar manager is, though."

You watch on as he talks to her, bemused by the way his weight shifts from one foot to the other. Clearly nervous, you think it's wild that Jeongguk is so scared of rejection. He's a catch. Sure, his working hours are a bit unsociable, and maybe he doesn't have life figured out just yet, but you don't think he's too far off.

It'll take a little time for him to get where he wants to be in life, but he's actively working for it. He's studying, laying down foundations. Has a great social circle and is yet to present any qualities you think could be problematic for a healthy, enduring relationship. In a room of walking red flags, he's gleaming white.

"Who is she?" Yoongi asks with great intrigue as he comes to stand beside you.

"Not a clue."

"Does he know who she is?" He laughs. Knows that you and Jeongguk have only been hanging out for a little while, but can also read the dynamic between the pair of you fairly well. Knows that your opinion clearly matters to Jeongguk, and is trying to gauge your thoughts. 

"Hopefully he will do soon," you say with a warm smile. The girl is laughing at something Jeongukk has said, making his bashful gaze all the more endearing. "He's getting her number."

Yoongi chokes on his drink. "Holy shit."

It's been months since Jeongguk has even entertained the idea of another girl. Maybe even a year. Yoongi might not have known the ins and outs of his former fling, but he knows Jeongguk hasn't quite been the same since.

"Uh-huh."

"Is this Jeon Jeongguk finally back in the game?"

"Could be."

"Well, I never," Yoongi exhales. "You know how many times we've tried to get him back in the saddle?"

"You needed a woman's touch," you laugh, biting down on your lip slightly as you watch Jeongguk scratch at the back of his head. The girl is laughing, flirting, clearly. She rests her hand on his bicep, and Jeongguk seems all shy again. He looks up. Catches your gaze quickly. Doesn't let it linger, but finds himself thinking he should end the conversation and report back on everything that's happened - but when he looks back to you, he sees you engaged in conversation with Yoongi and decides against it.

"Clearly," Yoongi agrees. "I dunno what you've done to him, but he's finally acting like himself again."

"I'm just a good distraction," you shrug. 

You're right. You are. You make Jeongguk forget all about his inner turmoil, cause he's always worried about yours instead. He's thinking about it now, as the girl's hand lingers on his shirt. Trails down his arm. Reaches for his hand.

"Y'know, I've actually gotta get back to my friends," he says. He's snagged on thoughts about you. Nothing in particular. Just the fact that you exist. That you're there. That he's not hanging out with you, and he feels like he should be.

She nods. "Yeah, me too. Text me, yeah?"

He returns the nod, almost too eagerly. "I will. Have a good night, yeah?"

She pulls a little on his hand. Is aiming for a kiss she isn't gonna get.

But then Jeongguk feels your gaze on him again, and there's pressure to perform; to act as if he's doing well, as if he isn't absolutely shitting himself. He doesn't stop her when she leans in. Doesn't stop her when her palm rests on his chest. Doesn't stop her when her lips press against his. 

He wouldn't say he's encouraging it per say, but he definitely is letting it happen. He's not against it. In fact, he actually quite likes it.

"You're a miracle worker," Yoongi tells you. 

"Miracle workers deserve free drinks," you tease, because you're very much in need of one. 

"Right you are," he agrees, and turns to the bar. 

You let your eyes linger, watching Jeongguk as his awkward arm finally moves from the frigid position next to his body to the small of her back. Wonder if he tastes more like tequila or lemonade. Think it doesn't really matter. You don't like either.

"Stop staring, you perv," Yoongi calls back to you and tells you to choose your drink. Says it's on him, but you both know it's on Jeongguk's tab.

When he finally returns, there's a triumphant smile on his lips. Proud. And you have to admit, you feel a little pride, too. The Jeongguk you met a few months ago would have never kissed a stranger in a bar. 

The night rolls on without a hitch. 

Danbi and Taehyung leave first. Leave together. You don't think anything will happen - you know she's playing hardball - but it's an achievement nonetheless. Also proves that there was nothing to be concerned about when it came to Jimin, who also left around the same time with a random girl none of you knew. 

Yoongi ends up calling Seoyeon, gushing about how much he misses her and is in a taxi no more than five minutes later. Namjoon hops in for the ride, leaving you and Jeongguk to meander back to his place. 

By the time you arrive, the paint is dry on your skin; cracking. It's uncomfortable to say the least, and earned you some questionable looks when you ran into a takeaway to pick up some chips on the way back.

You blabber gibberish together like you so often do. You're both too tipsy for your own good. Jeongguk feels like he's been chewing on a ball of cotton wool. You immediately head for his fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. Just one. You'll share.

"She was pretty," you say softly, sitting on the floor of his kitchen. Side by side, you're watching the sun rise through his windows.

Jeongguk nods. Feels like he's being tested. Doesn't know the right answer, so he goes with the truth. "Yeah."

There's silence. Neither of you really want to discuss it. You're not sure why.

He steals one of your chips. Knocks his shoulder against yours. "The boys seem to like you."

"You think?"

He nods, and says, "you should meet Seoyeon, too. Next time we all do something, I'll let you know. She's always saying how we need more women around. I think you'd get along."

You smile. Yoongi is so easygoing that you're sure Seoyeon must be just as friendly. "I'd like that."

The silence resumes. There's a heaviness. It's probably just the alcohol, and it's probably nothing serious, but Jeongguk hates it. Things with you have only ever been light. Airy. Easy. It's not that it feels difficult now, just... different. Abnormal. Strange. 

"I-"

"Do-"

The jarring nature of your voices speaking over one another is unsettling. You bicker all the time. It's not unusual for you to fully disregard the words he speaks just to voice your own dumb point, and he often does just the same. There's no reason why either of you would stop talking now. 

You're holding back.

So is he. 

He takes another chip. Doesn't eat it. Throws it at you instead. 

"You little fucker," you laugh, and so does he. 

But then the silence settles again. Makes itself at home. Tucks itself into bed, says it going to stay for a little while.

"Byeol," Jeongguk eventually says, so quietly it's almost a whisper. His eyes are wise as he looks at the golden sun that rises on the horizon. 

"Hmm?"

"The longer the paint sits... the harder it will be to get out of our clothes."

"Mmm," you nod. "You're probably right."

"I am," he tells you. He knows he is. It's not his first rodeo, either. "We should..."

His words are weighted so heavily that they become lodged in his throat. He's drunk, and he knows he maybe shouldn't suggest what he's about to but he can't seem to help himself.

"We still have a bird to do."

You know what he's insinuating. Your first bird. The waterpark one. The one that was totally botched because it was more important to try than it was to be faithful to words written on paper.

"Gguk..."

He's not looking at you, just at the sunrise. "It's just a shower. Just to get the paint out. It's nothing like, deep. Doesn't mean anything."

You don't say anything. Truthfully, you think now is a really good time to do it. Things are so much easier when you're drunk.

"You kissed another girl tonight," you remind him.

He nods. "Mhmm."

"Do you not think that maybe it's a bad idea? A conflict of interest?"

He shrugs. "Think about it. Why did I kiss a girl tonight?"

"Because you wanted to?"

"Because I'm trying, Byeol. We made a commitment. Made those damn birds, and said we'd do them. You told me to get her number."

"Actually," you interrupt. "The bird did."

"Exactly. I did what the bird told me to do - but only after you encouraged me to do it, too."

"The bird never told you to kiss her. And the stakes are a little higher, here, no? Showering together surely is... I don't know. More?"

More of what, you couldn't say. Your tipsy brain isn't connecting all the dots. Nor is his. You both know it's a bad idea. You both also confusingly think it's a really good idea.

"No," he says, all rather plainly. "It's no different to the waterpark - it's just that maybe this time we'll need to wash our hair."

You consider the proposal. It's tempting. It really is. 

"Clothes on?" You ask.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you want."

"Y'know, for someone with a fear of rejection, you're pretty forward."

"I'm not scared of you," he laughs. "It's different."

And he really thinks it is. Thinks that it doesn't count. Thinks you're an exception, not the rule.

If you were sober, you'd tell him to fuck off.

But you're not sober.

And you're feeling a little irritated with the fact he's made progress and you haven't. Failure isn't something you enjoy, and being behind feels like failure to you.

So you stand. Kick your shoes off and pick them up. They'll need to go under the water, too. "Are you coming?"

For some reason, he's startled. Doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe more refusal? Maybe he was looking for you to reinforce the boundaries already established by the pair of you.

But instead, you walk towards his bathroom. Start the shower up. Toss your shoes beneath the falling water, and call for him again. "Am I doing this alone, or what?"

You're standing by the basin by the time he approaches the door. He leans against the frame. Looks at you in a way you don't quite understand. You don't realise he took so long 'cause he had to sort his breathing out first - make sure he actually was still breathing. 

"You go first," you whisper so quietly he almost doesn't hear you above the torrent of water cascading down onto the tiled floor. 

He pauses before he reaches the water. "If you need to tap out, just say the word."

"What word?" You grin, as if anything like that has ever been discussed before. 

"Oh. Shit. I dunno," he smiles back. "Um... Chicken?"

"Chicken?"

"Chicken."

"Alright. Chicken it is."

You think it's fucking ridiculous, and you're right. It is. But it gets you both laughing. Has Jeongguk holding his hand out for you and pulling you into the water with him. Eases the weight on your shoulders as he rubs some of the now wet paint from your cheeks. 

"See, told you it'd be better to wash it off," he says a little triumphantly, his pretty teeth resting down on his bottom lip.

You reach up and reciprocate his kindness. "You're such a mess."

"So are you." 

Well and truly stained, your shirt is peach as the water runs through it. Jeongguk holds the shower head up and lets it run over your body, but there's nothing inherently intimate about it. Nothing sexual. It's platonic in potentially the weirdest way it could be - but most importantly, it feels safe. 

Again, you reciporcate. Let him take the lead. You can follow.

But then he catches you off guard.

"I'm gonna take my shirt off. There's paint underneath it I wanna get off."

The news is delivered so carefully that you almost think you're imagining it. Think that your tipsy brain has run wild - until he says, "okay?"

He waits for you to nod before he does it. 

Once you do, he grips the back of his neck, and pulls the shirt over his head. It falls to the ground with a thud. The water around it runs green. Your eyes are on the trail that seeps into the drain, and not him.

"Should I?" you ask quietly. "Should I take mine off?"

Jeongguk watches you closely. His heart thumps in his chest. He swallows. Studies your eyes; how they're refusing to look at his. Makes note of your shoulders and how they're slightly more curved than usual. You're cowering. Are a shadow of yourself. It really does seem like there's a deep-rooted fear, here. He feels guilty.

"If you want," he says. His voice is gentle. Temperate. Kind. "There's nothing to be scared of, Byeol. It's just me. Just us."

And you know he's right. The stakes are so low with him that it really feels like there's nothing to lose. What's the worst that could happen?

He'd see your body. That would be it. It wouldn't matter if he liked it or not. You're not seeking his approval. You know he wouldn't tell you his thoughts either way. Wouldn't comment on your appearance like that.

When you finally grace him with your gaze, he turns around; back to you, hands up like a white flag. You take in the sight of him; shoulders broad, the dip of his spine running like a river down his back. His efforts at the gym aren't for nothing.

You start to feel bad for evaluating him. It's all complimentary, but you shouldn't be looking at him like that. Not when you've just told yourself he wouldn't do the same to you.

"Tell me something," he says, not favouring the silence.

"Mhmm?"

"Why was this on your list?"

He hears your shirt slap against the floor of his bathroom, and then the soft pat of your feet on wet tiles as you turn around, too. It's only fair if his back is also turned. 

You're still in your fishnets, but you've only got a matching black underwear set on beneath them. Jeongguk's still wearing his trousers - until, pretty soon after your shirt is discarded, so are they.

Now it feels even. You're both are bare as one another.

"No reason."

Jeongguk knows you're lying. "I'll choose to believe you."

You smile. The way he speaks to you makes you want to tell him. Tell him everything. It's just stupid insecurities; nothing obscenely deep-rooted, you think. Chalk it up to a couple bad experiences. Underestimate just how severely Seokjin fucked with your head. 

"It's stupid," you whine.

"I highly doubt that."

And so you relent. "It's my fault, really. I... You ever just have like a gut feeling?"

"Sometimes."

"Had one of those, once. In the shower," your sentence comes out a little staggered. A little awkward. "Was with my ex and I just... His hair had smelt like candyfloss all week. Said it was a new shampoo."

Jeongguk thinks he knows where this is going. You pause. 

"Anyway, I did his hair," you continue a little flippantly. You're playing it off like it was no big deal. "He did mine. Yada yada yada, you know the rest. Realised later that evening that his shampoo was fucking mint scented. No sweetness, no nothing. So... yeah. The candyfloss scent..."

"Was someone else's shampoo?" Jeongguk guesses the end of your sentence, and is correct.

"He still denies it," you say. "I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Found myself in this god-awful cycle of insisting that we showered together - just so I knew he wasn't showering with someone else - only to end up crying halfway through it every single time. He was so fucking fed up with me by the end of it all. Told me I was fucked in the head. Said that if he did do the shit I'd accused him of, then it'd be my fault for driving him to it."

"Christ," Jeongguk hisses. He's heard some manipulative shit in his time, but that really fucking takes the biscuit.

You hum in agreement. Sound small when you say, "he smelt like candyfloss again the week before he ended things."

Jeongguk's at a loss for words. Wants to wrap you up in cotton wool. Can't believe someone would actually do that to you.

"Byeol?"

"Mhmm?" 

"Your ex-boyfriend's a prick."

"Yeah," you laugh, but it's cut short. There's a stutter in your diaphragm. You let out a deep breath. Hold back the pathetic tears you know are just dying to get out of your system. "Yeah, he was. Kind of my fault, though, isn't it? I'm the one who let him lie to me. Should have known better."

The fact you blame yourself is devastating to him.

"I'm gonna turn around," he says. "And I'm gonna give you a hug, okay?"

You nod, not that he can see it. Choke an "okay" out, and within a second, Jeongguk's arms are wrapped around you. He squeezes you tight, skin warm, heat beat firm beneath his ribs. Your back is to his chest, his head resting on yours. "He's such a fucking prick. It wasn't your fault, Byeol. Wasn't your fault at all."

He's never met your ex, but he decides there's no one in the world he despises more. Doesn't like violence; would definitely consider it for him.

You shrug. "Feels like it was."

"It wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

"Shit happens." 

He hates the way you deflect. Knows you'll never change, but dear lord, does he wish you'd realise that it's okay to struggle. 

There's a slight shift in your body, and he knows it means you're done with the hug. Been vulnerable for too long. Wanna get back to the 'normal' version of you.

You're still covered in paint, so Jeongguk tells you as such. You apologise for being such a mess - emotionally and physically. 

"S'cool. We both are, Byeol."

He leaves you to get washed up alone. Thinks you could do with a little privacy, and it means he can get his room sorted before your arrival into it. 

There's a scowl on his face as he organises the pillows. Can't believe how manipulative your ex had been. How dare he make you think you were imagining things, when it was evident he'd been straying. How dare he make you feel like that.

Jeongguk's no saint. He's done his fair share of fucked up things, but never anything like that. It infuriates him. Makes him want to fucking cry - partially out of frustration, but mainly because of how badly it had affected you.

He thinks of the night before you'd made the birds, and wishes you'd have just gone out with Danbi and Hoseok instead of seeing your ex.

You take your time in the shower. Are sad to wash off the feeling of Jeongguk's embrace, but know that you have to. You'd get too consumed by it otherwise. 

He leaves you a spare shirt outside the bathroom door, and tells you to come through to his room when you're ready. Jimin is still out, presumably asleep in some other girl's bed, so Jeongguk doesn't care too much for sneaking you around - not that he has to. You're just friends.

He takes the floor. Doesn't give himself half as many pillows as he gave you the last time. Still leaves his special pillows for you, though. 

"Uh-uh," you shake your head as you come into his room to find him already curled up in the pillow pile. "On your bed. I'm on the floor."

He shakes his head right back, defiant. "Too sleepy to argue. Go to bed, Byeol."

You're about to fight back. About to quite physically move him up onto his bed - but the soft sound of paper against pillows distracts you. 

"Shit."

Jeongguk sits up. "What is it- Oh. Shit."

You both just stare for a moment. Freeze, like you're in some kind of low-budget action movie. Look at his bed, then look at one another.

Another bird has fallen.

And as Jeongguk assesses from how bloody wonky it is, it's definitely one of yours.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[tossawary]

Okay, spoilers for the first twenty minutes of the first episode of the live-action ATLA remake, because they added a brand new prologue that was VERY bad and I need to talk about how hilariously bad it was.

So, the show opens in the Fire Nation's Capital City at night, with an earthbender running away with an important-looking scroll and being chased by Fire Nation soldiers. There's an unimpressive chase sequence that ends with the earthbender managing to hand off the scroll to someone else, before being caught and dragged before Fire Lord Sozin.

First thoughts: why are they opening 100 years early? I liked the way the original cartoon opened in the actual world state that mattered to us, then the war and its history slowly unfolded as the main characters learned more about their own world. Sozin's wig and costume looks CHEAP, and they are throwing away all of the intimidating mystery of the Fire Lord (we don't see Ozai's face in the cartoon for like two seasons) by showing Sozin as just some guy. Also, it's kind of a waste of time to introduce Sozin here at all, especially in person, because while he had a MASSIVE impact on the world of the story, he's basically irrelevant to the main narrative happening 100 years later, because our actual villains are his descendants ACTIVELY CONTINUING his work.

The earthbender is beat-up but defiantly says that the Earth Kingdom has now been warned that Sozin intends to attack. Sozin is all smug, though, because apparently he WANTED these plans to be stolen. He wants everyone (he actually explicitly names the Water Tribes and the Air Nomads as well as the Earth Kingdom) to be looking towards the Earth Kingdom, so that he can attack the Air Nomads instead, because that's where the new Avatar is, who is the only person who could stop him. (The exposition is sooooo clunky and cheesy. It's baaaaad. Talk directly to the camera, why don't you?) Then Sozin burns this poor earthbender to death and then the scene skips over to Aang at the Southern Air Temple.

Second thoughts: oh, so we're not only going to waste time building up Sozin as a villain when we're going to very shortly skip ahead 100 years? We're also going to establish Sozin as a guy in a bad costume who is kind of shit at military strategy? He doesn't need a distraction! He doesn't need a feint! No one is expecting him to attack anyone, he shouldn't need to fake attacking someone else! In fact, he's letting all the other nations know that they should be paying close attention to his movements? What?!

At the Air Temple, we see Aang and Gyatso's relationship, and we see Gyatso called in to speak with a council of senior monks. The council has been alerted to the fact that Sozin intends to attack the Earth Kingdom, they intend to help, and they want to prepare Aang for war. And I didn't really have to think too hard about the logistics of Sozin's attack on the Air Nomads when it was something that happened 100 years ago! But now this stupid fucking show is making me actually have to think about how all of this worked, because it actually shows SOZIN'S ATTACK on this temple and this is why Aang is forced to leave! (And gets frozen in an iceberg for 100 years.)

Don't show me this nonsense if you don't want me to think about the logistics and strain my suspension of disbelief! If the Air Nomads intend to help the Earth Kingdom when the Fire Nation attacks, then because they're PACIFISTS who can FLY, they would be most helpful serving as scouts and messengers. But NO ONE is watching the movements of Sozin and his entire fucking army of firebenders when they have been EXPLICITLY forewarned that he intends to attack the Earth Kingdom??? They don't have anyone watching out for this explosive conflict that will directly impact their ability to travel at the very least?

It's one thing if the Fire Nation has simply become increasingly militaristic and industrial, because from an outsider's perspective, that could just be Sozin strengthening his internal power. (The Fire Nation could have had multiple lords and kingdoms, historically, before being forcibly united into a single nation.) Chin the Conqueror was also just one Avatar ago, so it's maybe not unreasonable for the Fire Nation to be wary of warmongers within the Earth Kingdom. The Fire Nation becoming increasingly hostile and aggressive is concerning, but people tend to hope that cooler heads will prevail and war won't happen. It's not the same as DIRECT CONFIRMATION that the (United?) Fire Nation intends to invade the Earth Kingdom and start a war?

Sozin, apparently: "The best way to pull off a surprise attack is intentionally put all of my enemies on their guard."

So, now the Air Nomads don't look great for failing to notice an army showing up like that. Especially if they're in contact with the Earth Kingdom about the war that they're anticipating? Like, sure, they didn't anticipate THEY would be attacked, but they have information now that Sozin has an army on the move and terrible ambitions? Maybe these senior monks aren't sharing the news around because they don't want to panic anyone yet? Maybe it took a long time for the Earth Kingdom's information to reach them? But it's not a great look that the show is immediately inspiring me to find flaws (in the plan of telling your enemies to look out for your attack beforehand) and to have to come up with excuses for these potential plot holes.

And I personally didn't enjoy seeing the Air Nomads engaged in combat with the Fire Nation as one of the first things we see from them! Of course they're going to defend themselves when attacked, but it's just so sad, especially when Aang is introduced in the original cartoon as a wondrous mystery to Sokka and Katara and the audience, fun-loving and bright and with incredible powers, a miraculous shock of sunshine colors against the blue of the South Pole, a person from a more peaceful time and a hopeful way of life, someone who has never seen war and never heard of this one. In the cartoon, we learn about the Air Nomads through getting to know Aang, this penguin-sledding kid who can't even conceive of war yet, before we see the remnants of his loss. We don't have to see airbenders fighting for their lives and dying horribly before we fully understand who they are as a people.

This remake heavily frontloads its exposition with new material that is painfully clumsy, largely irrelevant, and doesn't add anything good to a story that's already been done pretty well. Was this just an attempt to avoid being accused of directly copying and adding nothing? Because it was bad. What the fuck was wrong with opening in the main time period of our story with Sokka and Katara as our POV characters? We could have instead seen more of the Southern Water Tribe! We could have spent more time with Aang getting to know the Southern Water Tribe and bonding with Sokka and Katara! We could have had more conflict between Aang and Zuko (who is, unlike Sozin, alive and relevant to the actual story at hand)! But no, we cut good stuff from the original show and have to waste all of this time on Sozin instead, who is dead by the time that the real story starts, and also apparently thinks telling everyone he intends to attack the Earth Kingdom when no one knew he was going to attack anyone is good military strategy.

[north-blue-hearts]

Random thot.

CW: Body horror (Law taking you apart, but it's Law so you're safely put back together), voyeurism, forced orgasms, anal prep, fingering, forced exposure, bondage, medical play, dubious consent

Law ties you up in red ropes - it's nothing complex, it just forced you to stay standing and upright against a bar he's anchored you to.

You're kind of like a living version of this:

Then he uses his fruit to remove pieces from you and give a medical presentation to a group of new students. You're naked, and only Law gets to touch you (or your organs) but it's a whole class of students.

By the time it's done all the students have inspected your body, inside and out.

It could stay fully clinical - just being watched like that is enough to leave you turned on and Law takes care of you once class is over.

It could really wild, however, where he gives an impromptu lesson on how to please someone with a vagina. So he removes that bit and sets it on the table, spreading your lips apart and showing everyone where your clit is.

Running a gloved finger along your skin and explaining how light stimuli can be very useful and effective. Pressing a single finger into your vagina and explaining how different spots have different levels of pleasure, and those spots can be all over the place from one person to the next.

You've got to feel around and really look for it, and if you're partner isn't vocal you may have to watch their expression, or pay attention to how they flex their fingers or toes.

He forces you to cum so hard you squirt and then he explains the logistics behind that, and why it's not something that everyone can do - even with a lot of practice, but the effort itself can still be rewarding.

Then he allows for some hands on and gives each student a few minutes to find your g-spot with their fingers. It's in your best interest to be vocal, because you don't want someone else's fingers inside you for too long, of course.

If you're good he ends it there.

If you've been bad, maybe he gives a lesson on proper anal prep and how to really loosen someone up and how much lube to use.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

10 for Rise. Gimme warcrimes duo >:]

Donnie didn't realize just how much Witchtown hated him until he wound up in front of the majority of the town at Hidden City court.

Witches of all kinds shouted over each other, listing crimes that Donnie most definitely had NOT committed.

"--trampled my mushrooms!"

"--released the kraken into our town fountain!"

"--totally demolished my self esteem!"

"--ATE MY CAT!!!"

"-- and destroyed the statue of our great founder!"

Okay that one he actually had done. In his defense, he hadn't meant to blast it with his tech bo. Defense, however, was something he was missing.

He glanced over at the judge. "I don't know how Hidden City trials work but isn't there supposed to be someone on my side? I mean, ahem, with my superb knowledge of everything I could absolutely provide my own defense but, uhm..." I don't really want to do this all on my own, he finished in his head.

All of Donnie's knowledge of courtroom proceedings came from a show he and Raph used to watch together. Raph loved watching the good guys solve crimes and fight bad guys. Donnie loved the mysteries and collection of evidence. Neither of them found the legal stuff super interesting, so they'd discussed the real life logistics of the crime (whether Donnie could commit it, whether Raph could catch him, and how they'd avoid getting caught) during those scenes. Donnie wished he'd payed more attention.

The doors flew open with a BANG.

"PURPLE TURTLE!" Casey Jones yelled. "I AM HERE TO PROVE YOUR INNOCENCE!"

Donnie blinked.

The jury all looked at each other like she'd made a brilliant point, muttering and nodding along.

The judge stroked his beard. "Good entrance. One point to the defense."

There were very few times that Donnie didn't have at least SOME idea of what was happening. Now was, unfortunately, one of those times.

Casey seemed to appear right next to him. "SO! Got yourself in trouble with Witchtown, eh?"

Flustered, Donnie could only think to say, "I didn't do it! Their accusations are entirely--"

"HEY! That's MY job!" She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, Witchtown is tough, but I'm tougher! You're lucky I took this case, otherwise you would already be rotting in Hidden City prison."

"I-- Casey why are you a lawyer in the Hidden City?" Things were spiraling entirely out of control.

Casey grinned her insane grin. "I love yelling, fighting, arguing, squabbling, debating, etc. Passing the exam was super easy, too! The laws here aren't any more complicated than the Foot Clan laws. You know, normally I'm on the offensive. But I am Hamato Clan now! I WILL NOT BETRAY MY CLAN!"

Donnie couldn't help but be impressed. "Huh. What a strangely fitting career choice for you."

"INDEED! And the lawyer to politician pipeline is extremely fast. I shall build my way up to becoming a mayor, senator, and eventually I shall be the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES! Junior has already signed on to be my vice president. Our slogan is either going to be: 'Jones and Jones: we'll feast on your bones' OR 'Vote Jones squared and your lives will be spared'. Catchy right?"

Donnie's mind was already buzzing with how his Genius Built brand could be expanded by personally knowing the president. "Casey," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I will personally help fund your presidential campaign."

"Excellent! Now, we are in the middle of court so we can discuss that later."

"Oh yeah." Donnie had actually forgotten that he was literally on trial. Casey has the effect of being extremely distracting. "I need to tell you my alibi and--"

"Pffft, no need. What kind of court do you think this is?" Casey cracked her neck, and stretched her arms above her head.

The judge banged his gavel, which sent a shockwave across the room. The ground rumbled and the seats all slid back to open up a wide space in front of the stand. "We are now in session. Let prosecutor Gilby Gilbert of Witchtown and defendant Casey Jones of the Hamato Clan enter the ring."

The what?!

Gilby Gilbert, whom Donnie vaguely recognized from the Witchtown episode leapt into the ring. "That turtle is GUILTY!"

With a running leap, Casey Jones flipped into the ring and kicked him squarely in the chest. "Mr Hamato is more innocent than you and your corrupted, black market, embezzling town will ever be!"

The jury gasped.

"Flair, solid hit, AND a plot twist! Three more points to the defense!" the judge ruled.

Donnie was now very glad he had not been the one to plead (punch?) his own case.

"Turtle boy is against everything we stand for!" Gilby choked from inside a headlock.

"Since your treasury records show illegal trade with criminals AND many Witchtown officials who have been pocketing those funds, I'd say it's a good thing that Mr Hamato stands against you, you LOWLIFE!" Casey released the headlock, only to kick her opponent to the ground and curb stomp him.

Donnie was no longer worried.

In fact, as he watched Casey continue to kick Gilby (who had curled into a ball), he actually smiled. Perhaps the answer to science vs magic was brute force.

He had decided that when this trial was over and he and Casey had officially won, he was going to make her a fashionable Genius Built lawyer suit. He'd make it easily torn away to give her more points in style.

It was the least he could do.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 1500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Look, I know this would never happen and the logistics are a nightmare. But this is fic and I do what I want. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for reading this over! And thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for the equipment line. Pure genius, as usual!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia Masterlist

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" I whisper, looking back over my shoulder like I expected someone to be there, following us. 

Mickey shrugs. "Captain Mitchell brings his girlfriend all the time."

"Yeah, but he's Maverick. He can do whatever he wants."

My boyfriend, who thinks he's so funny, chuckles, his fingers laced between my own as he pulls my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "You've been asking me for damn near a year to see the planes I fly. You really gonna back out now?"

"I don't want to be arrested."

Mickey laughs. "You won't be. Kicked off base, maybe."

"Ok, maybe we should go back to the bar, Mick."

He spins me around, pushing my back against the hanger wall, the metal cool on my back as he presses his body to mine, his fingers gently tipping my chin up to face him. His lips are soft on mine, a slight neediness behind them before he pulls back. "Do you trust me?"

I sigh, my fingers trying to grasp the tight fabric of his uniform as I pull him back down towards me. "With my life."

He kisses me softly again before pushing away from the wall, offering me his arm. I take it, my cheeks warming under his smile as he guides me out of the building and onto the tarmac. 

I gasp, fighter jets all in a neat line glisten in the setting sun, each of them just as powerful as the next. They make me feel small but not in a bad way. More like, I'm in awe of their presence and the skill it takes to master one. 

"Which one is yours?" 

"It's not really mine. They belong to the Navy."

I punch his arm lightly. "You know what I mean."

He leads me over to a jet a few down from the front and tells me all about it. What all of the markings mean, what it's made of, how fast it can go. His eyes light up, a proud smile always tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues talking. 

"Hey baby?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can I see you in it?"

"You wanna see me in the jet?"

"Very much so."

"Alright. Wait here." Mick reaches up and pulls a ladder out from the side of the jet. He gives me a quick kiss and a wink before he ascends the stairs, opening the cockpit and lowering himself inside. He waves a hand to me, beckoning me to him.

"Come on up!"

I take a breath and ascend the narrow stairs, my hands slightly sweaty against the metal handrails. But then I'm at the top, looking down into Mick's upturned face, those espresso eyes waiting expectantly. 

"There's a lot of buttons."

He laughs, shoulders shaking with it as his smile makes me warm. "Yeah there are."

"Do you know what they all do?"

"Of course." He starts pointing and explaining each of the buttons, his face lighting up with each explanation. I watch him, the small movements he makes to point to another one of the thousand buttons on the console, a smile stretched across his face as he keeps glancing at me to make sure I'm paying attention. 

As if I could look anywhere else. 

"You look hot as fuck, Mick."

He stops mid sentence, the tips of his ears heating up. "What?" 

"You're so fucking hot." I glance around and see no one. We're completely alone on the strip. "Sit back."

He does as I ask, his eyebrows raised in silent question. But as I lower myself carefully down onto his lap, his eyes darken, hands settling on my hips. 

"What are you doing, babe?" He asks, his eyes darting down to my lips. 

I scratch my nails lightly at the back of his head, loving the feel of his shaved cut under them. I kiss him, slowly moving down his neck, my hips moving of their own accord. 

"I need you, Mick."

He pants in my ear before pushing me a little to get me to sit up, making sure I'm looking at him. "This is a serious piece of equipment, babe."

"You're a serious piece of equipment."

His eyes glance down at my lips and for a moment we don't move, me waiting for him to accept or say no. 

"Fuck it." He grips the back of my head, pulling me to him, the hand that had been on my hip now sliding up my bare thigh. I moan into his mouth when his fingers brush against my wet cunt. 

"Fuck, babe you're so wet."

"Watching my extremely hot boyfriend sit in his fighter jet while he Ted Talks me about it with giddy excitement really turns me on." 

"You're such a slut." He kisses me, sliding his fingers under my panties and I gasp at his touch. 

"Only for you."

He inserts a finger and then another, guiding my hips down on them as I moan. But it's not what I want. I grip his wrist and pull him from me, feeling my wetness on his fingers as they brush past my inner thigh. Sliding my hands down his chest, I kiss him again, my fingers fumbling with his belt, moving his zipper down and cupping him. He gasps into my mouth, hardening even more the longer I hold him. 

I push down the top of his boxers, gently pulling him out as he slaps against me. Our breaths are steaming up the windows, his soft whimpers filling the silence as I push my panties aside and line him up, sinking down onto him, my mouth hanging open as I stretch around him. We waste no time, my hips moving over him as he thrusts up into me, pulling his favorite sounds from me. He wraps his arms around my back, holding onto my shoulders as he thrusts faster, harder, and it's all I can do to hold on, one hand gripping his arm and the other splayed across the window. 

"Oh fuck, Mick! I'm gonna…" my orgasm comes on quick, my body tensing as I chant his name over and over, my hips rocking against his to get as much pleasure as I can. I see he's close, so I look down at him, meeting his dark gaze. 

"Come inside me, Lieutenant Garcia."

"Fuck!" Mick groans, whimpering as he spills inside of me, hips thrusting a few more erratic times, his breaths panting out across my face. Mick looks up at his girl, the last of the days sunlight on her face, sweaty and fucked out and he thinks he's never seen anyone so beautiful before. 

"You ok, Mick?"

"I love you."

"Of course you do. I just fucked you in your jet."

"No. I mean it. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met and you love me for me. I love you."

His eyes are bright and wide as he looks at me and it's then I realize that I love him too. I lean down to him, pressing my lips to his before cupping his cheek, pulling back just enough for him to see me. 

"I love you too, Mickey." 

—----

An hour later, we walk into the bar, Mick's arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my temple as we walk up to his group of friends. They all greet us, shaking hands and cracking jokes. Only Bob seems to notice my slight limp, looking from me to Mick, the way he holds me close, his fingers playing with mine. When I look at Bob he winks, giving me a small smirk before taking a drink. When we pass by him later, Bob grabs Mick's wrist and pulls him closer. 

"I hope you cleaned up the jet when you were done. I don't want to fail inspection." 

My cheeks heat up, but then Mick is speaking quieter. "At least I made sure not to leave her panties behind, Bob."

My mouth falls open as I look at Bob, whose cheeks are warming, his ears turning pink. He just smirks and nods, lifting his glass to us. "Touché." 

-------

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[valend]

You know, I did expect something like that. Kind of a social experiment — how much can burrites last without getting butthurt after someone dares to imply that burr is not the most attractive male in existence. The results aren't flattering — 20 minutes only and I am already getting threats. It's like watching animals in a zoo. Makes me horrified for the future of this country. The world. What has happened to America? Is this the peak of human intelligence? Talking about Burr's cock? I believe Thomas Jefferson had foreseen something like this, and he warned us. We didn't listen. Now the last sane people here have to pay for it. I'd ask you to think about what you're doing, but that'd imply you having something which can be used as a thinking instrument — and burrites commonly lack in this area. Moving on. You claim Hamilton wrote a pamphlet about cheating on his wife — congratulations, you can do simple reading and comprehension of the text presented. Want an applause? You're so talented, honey. Don't thank me, I'm just trying to make up for your childhood a bit; clearly you haven't heard that phrase often. Or gotten attention at all. Maybe that explains your next lack of critical thinking skills — yes, I am attracted to Hamilton even despite him cheating on his wife, because I can actually see people as multidimensional, and not as only black and white. One questionable deed does not make a man, especially when that deed is done in a state of unwellness and your mind clouded by seduction of a beautiful woman. Hamilton had countlessly made up for his unfortunate misstep, and if you fail to see this you should take some logistics classes you failed at school. Elizabeth Hamilton did not possess any "trust issues" towards her husband — quite on the contrary, she had done the right thing and forgiven him, setting us an example of true love between a man and his wife. Too bad in modern times we had strayed so far from it not even God can always guide us back on our rightful path. Lastly, I'd like to comment on how you call Hamilton a "pretty boytoy" as always, completely disregarding his intellectual capabilities and achievements. Typical. You also imply that he is not even pretty — a blatant lie, if you ever seen one. Maybe stop staring at at Burr's dick through your magnifying glass and look at Alexander's actual portrait for a change. If that isn't too hard for you. In addition, Hamilton can definitely throat more than your oh so beloved Burr. I'd bet on at least two cocks. Though, you can stay in your bubble still and refuse to admit that I'm right. May you find comfort in your ignorance. As long as this country stands.

Anon do you by any chance need a lithium prescription?