#the confidence has plummeted this last week or so

[rakurairagnarok]

I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.

A Green Christmas

`What!!`

Ryan screamed at the news.

You sighed.

´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´

Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´

You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.

`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´

Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.

`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'

Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.

"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"

Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.

A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.

"Steven, can we talk bro?"

"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."

"Please, just for a little while."

"...Fine..."

Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.

"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."

You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.

"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"

You sighed.

"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."

Ryan smiled.

"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.

"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?

Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.

"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.

He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.

"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."

You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.

"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.

" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."

You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.

"You know what. Sure."

Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.

He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.

"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."

"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.

Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.

"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.

"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.

"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."

You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.

"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"

"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.

You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.

"Wanna take another hit bro?"

Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.

"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.

Ryan smiles back.

"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"

You look at him with a flushed face.

"What... did you say?"

"You're hot. You look amazing."

"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.

"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face

Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.

"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."

Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...

You manage to push away and look at him.

"Ry... I ... "

"yeah?"

"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"

Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.

"Fuck yeah bro!!"

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.

"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"

The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.

You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.

You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.

This will be a pretty special Christmas.

__________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!

[sonder-paradise]

𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

◊ ft. chuuya nakahara, gn!reader

◊ genre. comfort, chuuya's hopelessly in love with you

◊ a/n. it's been a while since i've written for tumblr.

Chuuya is a man of many talents. He wants to believe he is anyway. But there’s a lot he’s unsure of after the moon greets the city and he’s left alone with his thoughts. So, when the sun rises and kisses the city skyline, he watches it with a heavy heart. The mood of the week sinks like a boulder in the ocean. 

It’s incredibly lonely in the sky. 

He doesn’t fly about too often. Only when he wants to see the sunrise and prays for someone, anyone, to stop this torrid void in his chest. The gravity around him settles once more and he allows himself a brief moment to tumble down, down, down in the vastness of the city. Skyscrapers rush past him, guiding him down to the ground. His stomach plummets along with his body. 

And then it all stops. That familiar red glow redefines him and he’s floating once more. That elation evaporates from his body and he stares up at the sky once more. It’s not like him to do something so idiotic. Even if he is in control of his own body and the abilities it holds. 

He stuffs his hands in his pant’s pockets, staring down at the cracked sidewalks of Yokohama’s city. The sun soaks the stores and streets with a stunning golden hue. Nothing seems to be alive as if the entire city has disappeared. The emptiness in his chest tightens and grows. 

Then, his phone vibrates in his back pocket. He shifts his expression into an unreadable frown, before delving to pick it up. 

“Nakahara speaking, what’s up?” 

“Chuuya, what are you doing up so early?”

His eyes glimmer a vibrant blue and he’s staring up from the sidewalk at the golden city. Your voice sounds soft and tired. He can imagine how sweet you appear with sleep buried in you eyes. 

“That’s a good question… I could ask the same for you.” 

“Last minute work…” 

A pause lingers in between them and Chuuya can make out the rustle of your clothing. 

“I couldn’t sleep. Bad dream.” 

“Dream?” 

Ah, shit. 

“Chuuya, I know you don’t have dreams.” 

Fuck. 

He pauses, swallowing thickly.

You knew. Of course, you knew.

He had told you before and that’s all you needed to remember. You would ask and he would be at a loss for words all over again.

“Sorry,” he thinks a little, “I don’t know why I said that.” 

You laugh on the other end of the phone. The noise is gentle and quiet as if you're trying not to wake someone up. 

Chuuya clicks his tongue, feeling his cheeks warm from partial embarrassment and partially the sound of your laughter echoing through the phone. 

“Shut up. Why did you even call anyway?” 

You stops laughing on the other end, seemingly thinking over the answer yourself. He wants to comment about how you shouldn’t have spoken in the first place, but the words trip on his tongue when you speak again. 

“I don’t know either, honestly. I think I was just tired and thought about you.” 

He clears his throat, covering his face with his free hand. You're too much sometimes. He wants to say that you should be saying that to someone you love, or that you're certainly much too tired for these sorts of phrases. 

But he doesn’t. 

He’s not sure he wants to. 

What if your answer scares him?

Instead, he sighs into the speaker. 

“Want me to pick you up?” 

“Mmm… That’d be nice. I was about to fall asleep in the office.” 

“Let’s not do that. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Chuuya remembers the first time he met you. There was a tenderness about the meeting. Regardless of the outcome, he confided in you. Your outstretched hand was one he was always willing to take. He grasped onto it and held it so tightly he feared he would scare you away. 

But as he tumbles into the office, spotting your figure snoozing away at her desk, he can’t help but fear so much more. Your face is buried in your arms and the coagulated arrangement of items on your desk including an intimidating pile of paperwork makes his chest fill just a bit. 

You stir, blinking back the exhaustion from your expression. Then, you smile. It’s a quiet and tender smile. Chuuya feels it engulf his chest and take over his body. 

He’s enraptured by you utterly and entirely. 

But he sighs, shaking his head as he strides over to you. He clicks his tongue, reaching over to brush away a loose strand of hair. You look up at him and chuckle, taking his fingers in her own and clasping it to your cheek so as to bury yourself in the palm of his hand. 

His chest swells and he sits at the desk. 

“Thank you for coming…”

“No, thank you.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

You stir slightly. Your eyes meet his and for a second Chuuya’s worried he’s shown you too much of the side he tries to keep away from others. He attempts to suppress that, taking his hand away from your skin. 

“Nothing, forget it… I’ll drop you off at your place.”

You shakes your head, leaning back against his arm. His face burns deeper by the second, but he takes it slowly this time. 

“No, let me just rest for a second. Stay with me.”

“Fine… But just this once.” 

He can feel your light breath against his skin. He hopes that you can’t feel his pulse through his veins. It feels just about ready to ignite into hot, molten flames. He covers his face once more, trying to remember the last time he felt so strangely… relaxed and alert all at once. 

But he takes in a deep breath, looking down at you again. 

His chest feels so full all of a sudden.

Taglist: @todorokichills @alittlesimp @greenshirtimaginesii @darlinqserenity @nameless-shrimp @whorefordazai @requiem626k @missrown @nonsense-corner @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @trashykawahq @swrdemon @life-sus @foolishestchildofchilds @fyodorscello @planetxiao @dazaiaiko @chuuyasboots @allisonlol @questioningmyownexistence @sebtomm @nullified-kiss @nathansside @cuteflowers-101 @sigmafied @boombboi @scarletta-ruan @skgch @httpsobi @dazaiscum @thekaylahub @luciferspen @dazaisfavgf @alice0blog @irethepotato @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @disa-ster @mastering-procrastinating @aestellia @killmewithafanfic @ay-chuu

[genshin-scenarios]

Reunion: The End of the Night [Part 7]

Read the first series (Adopt a Wanderer) here! An AU where Scaramouche/Wanderer gets isekaied to your world - a found-family series.

Summary: The last chapter of the sequel is here! Featuring the Lantern Rite, you and Kuni are now traveling around Liyue.

Wordcount: 2758

Part 1

Part 6 <-

Initially, you weren’t sure if Kuni would agree to stay at Wangshu Inn until the both of you stepped out on its highest balcony, and the bustle of people below immediately dissolved into a jaw-dropping view.

No wonder Xiao frequents this place. You can’t imagine any other sight that would soothe the mind such as this. It almost made you a little jealous of those that lived in Teyvat, for being witness to sceneries so beautiful as part of their everyday lives.

Needless to say, you’ve since acquired neighboring single rooms at Wangshu Inn and started to traverse Liyue at your leisure. It was only a week or two before the Lantern Rite, so there were many commissions available to help local businesses prepare for the event. 

Kuni was not as enthusiastic about working as a delivery-person, but at your reminder it’s a two-in-one of exploring and earning mora, he relented. 

You’re actually kind of impressed at how fast he’s able to fly around. Meanwhile, you were simply trying to act natural when meeting people like Xiangling and Hu Tao at the harbor. You knew they lived here, but you really underestimated how fast your heart would beat when faced with characters you’ve only seen on screens!

Kuni likes to make fun of you for that, saying you’ll spontaneously combust at this rate since there were many more recognisable figures that you’d run into - and while it was true, you can’t help but feel a little excited every time. You definitely almost tripped and fell off the stairs when you realized Xiao was on the rooftop one night. But you digress.

Right now however, such things were at the back of your mind as you and Kuni were in the Minlin area - more specifically, to explore Jueyun Karst and the Hanguang Stone Forest, after Verr Goldet asked if you’d be willing to drop off supplies to crafters that frequent there for inspiration.

“Making crafts and weaponry in honor of the adepti is quite common during this season, especially in terms of commissions from high-profile customers. Normally we send our messengers there, but since I noticed one of you has a vision and is quite adept with flying around…”

You’d be getting paid a high sum for this after all. And, well… You did want to get Kuni some qingxin flowers to replace the ones you gave him in Sumeru, seeing as you did say as much with so much confidence before. He says you’re ridiculous for going to such dangerous places when you could just buy some from a shop, but you also wanted to share the tranquil view with him (despite how Kuni said otherwise, you find that his cat-like characteristics extend to lounging on tall vantage points. Perhaps he liked being able to see everything that was going on in this way).

“We should’ve turned this into a picnic.” You muse, tucking your feet carefully under your legs as you look around. Kuni managed to fly you up to one of the more spacious peaks in Hanguang Stone Forest. The weather is nice, and you’re taking a break from deliveries. “I can see myself having quite a nice nap out here.”

“The more you talk, the more I wonder if you’d survive alone.” Kuni’s words hold no malice, but you’re a little surprised that he’s chatting now, seeing as he’d opted to let you do the talking with the craftsmen earlier. “What if you roll over too much and plummet down?”

“Well… you wouldn’t let me die in such a lame way, right?”

“...”

“...Right? Hey—”

“You two up there! Might you be adventurers?” A stranger’s voice echoes from the bridge below, effectively stealing away both of your attention.

“Um, yeah!” You yell back. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“There’s a swordsmith stuck on Mount Hulao! He’s gotten trapped in the amber.” The person holds her head in exasperation. You feel a little bad for the lady; it seems like this isn’t the first time trouble has found this mysterious swordsmith. “If the two of you are able to rescue him, I’ll pay you for your services. Mora is no problem.”

When Kuni meets your gaze, he can only heave out a sigh. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this loser.”

“We’ll do it!” You give the lady a thumbs up. Without a moment to waste, she gives you instructions on the swordsmith’s location once you descend the stone spire.

She marks another spot on your map. “And this is where our lodges are located. Once that idiot is rescued, please return him here. I told him not to rush to the mountains so early in the morning, but he kept insisting he could collect the amber from Mount Hulao as a finishing touch to his creation…”

“No problem, we’ll be back as soon as we can.” You assure her. “Um… may I ask if you’re his co-worker, or…?”

“Oh, I’m a painter.” She raises a hand to her heart, giving you a proper introduction. “My name is Lian. Both me and Yichen were commissioned to create works for this year’s Lantern Rite, as part of a larger collection to be on display at Liyue Harbour.”

“So this sword he’s putting finishing touches to is for that?”

“...Not exactly.” Lian purses her lips. “You can ask him more about it later on, if you wish.”

You manage to find Yichen quite easily, seeing as he’s only made it halfway up the mountain before getting caught by the clever defenses of Mount Hulao. With a bit of brute force, Kuni manages to break the poor guy out of his amber cocoon. 

Thankfully Yichen gives up on the idea of continuing his search for amber - after an hour or so of being stuck inside it, he says it’s lost the original charm he envisioned - and you make it back to their lodges in one piece.

“Why use amber from that place anyways?” Kuni raises a brow. “You could simply buy any jewels you need as part of your budget.”

“It’s not about that,” Yichen explains, “One night, while we were out here to gain inspiration from our surroundings, I fell asleep while sketching decorative designs for the blade. I had a dream of the most beautiful sword, crafted from a gemstone of wonderful, rich origins… but it’s too last minute to order some from the city, where everyone else has already booked out materials.”

“And it doesn’t feel the same to get mass-produced gems.” Lian adds, reading his expression with ease. “You’ve been wanting to leave a sword here as an offering to the adepti, right?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Well, you made an extra blade. And talk in your sleep.” She shrugs. After handing you the payment for rescuing Yichen, Lian gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Maybe next time you’ll be able to finish it and deliver it to the mountains. There’s no need to rush.”

“By wonderful, rich stones… would noctilucous jade from the Chasm work?” You speak up.

“The Chasm?” Yichen’s gaze lights up. “Have you been there?”

“We passed through it.” Fishing out some samples you took with you from your backpack, you show them to Yichen. “I don’t know if these are enough - we sold the rest on the way to the harbor.” 

The only reason you still had them on-hand was as emergency funds. Who would’ve thought they might be able to contribute to this man’s wish?

Almost in a daze, Yichen’s expression melts into a smile. “Yes… These would work splendidly! What is your price? I can pay a bit over market rates, since these are of a better quality, and—”

“You can do all that after you finish crafting your blade.” Kuni interrupts him. At your surprised look, Kuni tilts his head. “What? It’s already midday. If he wants to deliver that thing soon, he might as well get started.”

“I’ll be sure to return this favor! Please give me a few hours - it shouldn’t take too long for me to shape the jade!”

-

You never would’ve expected yourself to be dazzled by weapons of all things, but the finished product truly was a sight to behold. 

As a sword fashioned for ceremonial purposes rather than an adventurer’s use, its hilt is engraved with small stones of noctilucous jade. The entire edge of the blade is plated with the gemstone as if coated in sky-blue paint, sharpened with masterful precision. You’re not sure how he’s managed such a thing, but it leaves the sword twinkling in a deadly manner. It’d look absolutely stunning under the sunlight.

“And now to test it.” Yichen looks down at the sword in his hands, before bowing his head and offering it to Kuni. “If you would… I’d like you to do the honors.”

“Me?” Kuni looks like he’s about to decline, but hesitates. “Why?”

Yichen straightens, giving Kuni a smile. “Well, aside from the impressive display you put up while rescuing me, the way you observed my workspace when we first arrived gave me the impression you were a little familiar with sword making.” He pauses. “But, you can also call it intuition. Between the four of us, I simply believe you’d wield this sword the best.”

“Hmph. Human reasoning really is nonsensical.”

Something in the air changes as Kuni picks up the sheathed blade, adjusting to its weight and equipping the scabbard so that the sword would rest by his hips. His gaze lowers as if recalling a ritual from long ago, making his way to an open area surrounded by amber trees.

There is no music, but you, Lian, and Yichen all fall silent. The wind picks up, twirling through the air while carrying gold and orange leaves. 

Kuni takes a step forward, his hands shifting with graceful movements. He does not have a fan as one normally would with a sword dance, but in place he conjures anemo to take its form. Teal and ochre swirl around the timeless wanderer, and in the middle of it all is sapphire that unmistakably draws the eye. 

It is blue in the richness of the sky and sea, harnessed into a blade that flirts with the light as Kuni flourishes it, guiding it through the air.

He cuts through the falling leaves, slicing them clean in half. It’s like time has stopped to witness his actions, preserving the fall of orange just a second more.

Suffice to say, Yichen absolutely begs Kuni to follow him up to the mountains to place the offering. (“It wouldn’t be right otherwise!”) The entire group treks up Mount Aocang, which you identified as the safest option for visit.

Lian gives you a painting of Kuni’s sword dance before you leave, along with another drawing of the both of you walking together at the front with a flabbergasted Yichen. Kuni doesn’t say much about this outwardly, but you notice the way he keeps an eye on where you keep it - safely tucked within your backpack.

“After the death of Rex Lapis, the adepti showed up at Liyue Harbour during a time of great need.

“They’ve since retreated to their abodes, but I just wanted to leave something as a sign of gratitude. Liyue Harbour is my home, after all. I’ll always thank those that help protect it - and to the two of you, for helping me accomplish this much.

“If you two ever need help while in the city, feel free to look for us. We’ll do what we can!”

- 

On the day of the Lantern Rite celebration, where the giant mingxiao lantern would come to life and soar above the harbor at night - you find yourself wandering through the city to take full advantage of its offerings.

With delicious food, riddles, and shadow puppet shows to watch, there’s never a dull moment. At some point Kuni got roped into helping children mend their dolls, but he much prefers to get some relative quiet from the crowds; you end up in a shop that makes their own mingxiao lanterns, and allows you to customize yours before sending it off to the sky.

Instead of writing your wishes on the paper slip as instructed by Master Lou however, you place an additional slip on the table between you and Kuni, silently willing him to take it and read its contents.

Like school-children passing notes, Kuni raises a brow at the way you’re pretending you’ve been on-task the entire time. You stand up and chase after one of the staff members to ask a question, leaving him alone at the desk.

He would’ve expected your handwriting to struggle fitting onto a paper so small, but the words stand out in tiny, tentative letters.

‘Did you ever regret meeting me?’

Kuni silently pockets the note and finishes off his wish, tying it to his mingxiao lantern and exiting the shop. The lantern looks like it could be the stage of a shadow puppet show. Or perhaps, more optimistically, a page where the wishes written on paper could be brought to life. With how unpredictable the shape of a flickering fire can be, Kuni doesn’t doubt that a drunk man could witness a dream simply by watching the lanterns up close.

He joins you at the docks, where children and adults alike crowd around the harbor and balconies, awaiting the start of the fireworks show. Once the musicians begin playing, the lanterns in your hands start to glow, raising themselves into the air. 

They gather against the night sky like a sea of fireflies, and as much as Kuni wants to say it’s simply an ocean of floating trash… the sight is something that brings him to pause.

“I’m not particularly mad or bitter about the past.” Kuni says quietly. It might’ve gone unheard beneath the music of the streets if he wasn’t standing next to you. “Even if you’re a bit of a liability, traveling around with you and making sure you don’t run into trouble aren’t such bad memories to have.”

The music swells, and something in your chest twinges with it. The melody goes tentative, tentative, before marching into a crescendo you recognise by heart.

“In that case, I have to thank you.” You reply, eyes on the lanterns that’re so far away now. “I never would’ve thought that offering shelter to a lost person would bring me to this day. But I don’t regret any of it.”

A whistle shoots through the air, drawing your line of sight up, and higher, to where the first firework blooms. It’s followed by a chorus of more multicolored lights, delivered from Naganohara Fireworks across the ocean. Perhaps one day, you and Kuni could visit Inazuma, or Mondstadt, or wherever else the wind blows. For now though, this sight is more than enough to captivate you. 

The fireworks are fleeting, yet as you drink in the display of explosive lights, the moment seems to hang just a second longer for you to savor it. 

Eternal, yet not. A long time ago, in a different place, Kuni had witnessed fireworks from your apartment window for the first time. Against the tempered glass, both of your reflections could be seen in tandem with the fireworks far away. 

You’d asked him if he wanted to go outside for a better view, but Kuni had said this much was enough. Perhaps there was something about its beauty that deserved being admired from a distance - or, he might’ve seen similar sights from a beach in Inazuma, far from where the main city stood proud.

“...You know what? If we ever get separated, or if you’re the one who loses their memory - I’d fight to hell and back to make you remember again.” 

“You say that as if I would forget.” Kuni replies, stating the loud implication as if it were fact. Maybe with his will, it might as well be.

“I’ll take that as a promise.” You lean against the balcony of the harbor, fireworks still going off around you. No one would know any better about an outlander being in their midst. “I’d have to annoy you day and night otherwise.”

Humans are horrible at keeping promises. “You’re lucky I know you.”

“And I’m glad that you do.” You smile, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Whatever happens now will be up to the both of you; destination, purpose, or dream.

The last firework explodes before the moon, larger than life and resounding against the darkness.

Happy Lantern Rite.

(End.)

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Ending notes: thank you so much for reading this far! It’s certainly been a journey while writing ‘Adopt a Wanderer’, and I hope ‘Reunion’ was a fun sequel to read!

My initial concept for the series was just this feel-good, comfy fic with Wanderer (who at the time was still called Scaramouche quite often, time flies…) Now that it’s officially ended, I’m allowing requests to be made with this series as its context! So if you want a more romantic spin on it, or certain moments/alternate timelines, feel free to drop it in my inbox and I’ll write them when I have time!

Following that, I’m also working on a fanbook version of ‘Adopt a Wanderer’! It’ll essentially be a compilation of the og series and this sequel, but more properly edited and featuring bonus content (plus some spot arts and a cover!)

If you’re interested in getting the PDF copy of the book, just check my pinned post for more info!

That should be all from me for now, and uh… to those that follow me for other characters, I swear I’ll get back to my normal posts soon. You can also drop requests for them if you’d like, according to my pinned post rules and etc. Hope you’ll all have a good day/night!

[slickchickchocolatier]

Mermaids Tale - Chapter 8

Okay i managed to finish chapter 8 and am posting it. not really proofread so please, ignore the errors and mistakes. we're getting closer and closer to the good parts.

You shut off the row of fluorescent lighting in the great hall of the museum, the clicking of your heels against the tile flooring seldomly pleases your ears as the echo of each click clack travels around the artifacts.

It has been over 3 months since you met Heeseung, yet only a week since you last spoke. The last meeting you had with him…it was…

‘How could he do that to me?...I never want to see him again. Should I move? But I just got to this city…’

You became pensive in thought, wondering that if he really was an Adam. Not only that, but the effect he had when he sang at the karaoke bar…it was the same with you. What was he, exactly? Is he truly an Adam or something else? Is it even possible? The clan was formulated in Ancient Greece, can someone of Korean ethnicity be an Adam?

You guess that it could have happened. Heeseung could be a descendant of a clan member that somehow, made his way to Korea at some point of time in history.

You ran through numerous possibilities that would support any logic you could think of as to provide a reason that would ground your doubts, trying to make yourself feel reassured. Your mind relives the second that you extended your hand politely, stating your name and a proper greeting as you prepare to shake his hand, leading to your despair and ultimate shock when you were able to physically feel the touch of his hand holding onto yours.

Worse than that, the last meeting you had at the friendly gathering when you had done karaoke…after everyone left, he…

The image of Heeseung’s face as he bit his lips, grazed his tongue over the top row of his straight teeth, looking like he was about to feast on his prey…you. In some aspect, he got a taste. The moment his hands roamed and groped your breast, touched you in the area that you had never breached with your own hand, causing you to melt and experience something you’ve never felt before. When he took his fingers, after glazing them with a part of you, and licked them clean while making you watch…at the time, you felt strange. You were fearful and yet, there was something else about it…that in that split second, you didn’t seem to mind it, because your body wanted more.

Now, being away from him and isolated in your workplace, it made your blood boil just thinking about it.

You remember going back home that night, wondering if he truly was what you were warned of for so long. The thought of it scared you, so much, that you nearly heeded your mother’s words of direction. A piece you believed you should have, although you nearly felt confident that everything was safe as long as you remain at a distance from him. At this point, moving may be a considerable option, even though you had just relocated six months ago.

Your mind shifted from meeting Heeseung to the night you made that promise to your mom, the promise you didn’t keep after she gave you her earnest warning.

……..

“We can and we would feel everything. Even without being anywhere the ocean. That is the most significant way to tell, since the ancient times, Adams became the only man that Sirens can feel. That means, they can inflict pain. Outside or beneath our skin.”

“Then…what then, mama? If I run, where do I go?”

‘……….’

“You go back to the sea.”

………

The flashback ends abruptly as you hear the door from across the conference lobby nearby open. It was strange, considering everyone had clocked out, the only personnel that remained was security who were posted on the first level near the main entrance. They only conduct their security roves at midnight, which enhanced the confusing state you were in as you slowly made your way towards the lobby to see who had just walked in.

Your heart plummets to the to the bottom of your stomach.

Heeseung.

What is he doing here? How did he even know you’d be here? Did he find out you work here?

A series of questions run through your head as you felt a small gulp race down the center of your throat. You never told him where you worked, where you lived, or the usual spots you go for coffee or the markets. You never told him anything yet, he here he was, walking towards you.

Clad all in black, his leather jacket sways as he strutted in a rather harsh manner, as if he was on a mission. He was looking directly at you as he walked past the chairs and the conference table, his broad shoulders and arms develop a momentum from his manner of walking, giving him an aggressive posture. His face was firm, very stern frankly, but you noted the hint of fluster in his countenance as he began breathing slightly heavier the closer he got to you.

You opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing here, but for some unimaginable reason, your voice would not produce a sound. Instead, you found yourself muted as you stood there just for Heeseung to grab you, pinning your arms to the sides of your torso as he keeps walking, your hands grabbed on to the leather sleeves of his jacket, cupping his elbows for support as his relentless movement forces you to take multiple steps back until your back makes harsh contact with the wall.

‘No!...Not this again!’

Strands of your hair were caught in his grasp of your arms, semi-weaved in between his fingers as he squeezes them, burying the pads of his fingers into your skin. You started to feel the pain.

The pain…

A cross between the sudden realization that you regained the sense of touch as he encounters you, and the pain of his grip, swirled you into an emotional frenzy. Looking down at one of his hands that firmly gabbed onto you, you slightly shift up, wincing as your mouth slightly juts open.

You noticed the way his face was looking at you. It was calm yet he had a peculiar expression that almost made him looked concerned, but also aware of what he was doing, like he was testing something.  

Keeping the expression, he squeezes his grip around your arms. You wince again, only this time a small gasp escapes your mouth.

“You feel that… don’t you?”  

Your eyes felt shattered as they widened in horror.

What did he just say?

“W-what?...” you stuttered, the burn on your eyeballs indicated you were on the verge of sobbing from fear.

You play dumb for a moment, that little voice tries to calm you by telling you he was just speaking nonsense.

“I said…do you feel it?” he speaks out through gritted teeth and furrowed eyebrows. You was warning you through his expression, to not play with him, he was in no mood for it. Why? Why was he like this with you? How did he know to ask you if you could….feel?

You noticed his expression was starting to have less of that concerned look as a very subtle hint of annoyance shows within his brow line and his eyes as they glared down to you.

“Wh-what are you doing here? How did you know where I work?”

You winced in pain in between your words as you bid him to answer you. His face transitions to a very composed expression as he tilted his head back just slightly, projecting his features to look almost demeaning as he eyes you down with sharp, black, and piercing eyes. He took a single breath through slightly parted lips, leaned his face in and whispered in your ear.

“Siren…”

Your body jolts up as your hands break their position of cupping his elbows, instead, you reach up to place them on the broad surface of his chest as you begin pushing away. The look of fear and worry plaster your eyes as you struggle to break free from his grasp, your legs begin to tremble.

“Let me go! I said let me go!”

He looks at you sternly once more. How did he know? How did he…?

“So…you knew? Since the first time we met you knew about…me?”

He looked almost as if he was angered by the fact that you had a hint of who he was and refrained from telling him.

“Let me go Heeseung.”

You tried to match the harshness of his gaze as you sternly repeated your demand. It only propelled him to look angrier, and you were scared upon wondering what his intentions were.

Seeing the reflection of the light bouncing off the shine in your eyes, he leans his face closer towards you. Backing you up to the wall entirely, you were restricted in avoiding him closing in on you.

He got closer, you turned your face off to the side, his hands released their grasp of your arms. He reaches up and places his hand on your cheek and pulls your face forward, flushed with his.

His other hand finds your pelvic bone and he gently leaves it planted there as he pushes, causing you to shove tightly against the wall.

Taking a second to brush the tip of his nose against yours, his eyelids slowly becoming half shut and his slightly parted lips tapping against yours, he pushes out a long steady breath. You can’t believe that, even when it came to the temperature of his vapors, you could feel it. You felt everything.

Noticing your sudden reaction towards his actions, he closes the distance completely and kisses you.

Your first kiss. So this is what it feels like? His warm tongue forcing pass your lips, breaking entry, gliding over yours and merging deeper into your throat, while grazing over the roof of your mouth. It’s the first time you got to feel a kiss.

Then you realized, within this moment, there were physical surfaces, objects, and body parts you’ve never felt before, and you could feel them right now. Such as the wall behind you, the cool surface of it touching your skin, or his belt clip poking aginst your groin. You could feel it all, the wall, the kiss the inside of someone’s mouth, and the tip of someone’s nose. You could feel those things because of Heeseung.

You were relishing and becoming familiar with the sensation of everything.

Throughout your entire life, you never got to experience a moment such as this. The feeling of touch and physical sense had been limited to specific elements, and objects that could only be found by the sea whenever you basked in the water. Those countless days where you were the most joyful at the feeling of the wind, the sand, and the water, it all felt dull compared to this moment.

He gently breaks the kiss, but remained just a hair away, as if he was going to give it you again.

His eyes were lustful, and his breathing was deep.

“...You felt that?...” He whispered to you. His voice was softer than it was a moment ago, calm and deep, and very tender.

You nodded, also developing a lustful component in your eye. You couldn’t help it, this feeling and this sensation, all triggered by his touch…it was like nothing you ever could imagine. Your body reacted to it in a way that you wish it hadn’t, but in a way…you were welcoming it as you found yourself breathing harder, a painful knot developing in your gut, and the pulling of your hips as you retract them from waning to grind against his groin.

Seeing your dazed expression triggered him to smirk in a subtly manner, letting out a breath that expressed a hint of joy. Noticing it, you snapped out of your desiring state and  recontinued sour efforts to push him away.

He didn’t fight it, instead, he took two steps back as you peeled yourself off the wall, the moment you broke physical contact with him you felt your body losing the sense of touch, only to return when he walked after you and grabbed your wrist.

With a perplexed look on his face, he slightly shook his head at you in confusion and raised a brow at you, hinting the demand for an answer or an explanation.

“Let go.”

“Why?”

“Because…I want to leave.”

His grip tightened around your wrist, your sense of touch returns along with the pain and pressure admitted by his grip.

“Because of the history between our ancestors?”

His words shocked you, forgetting the importance of getting away, you turn and inquired about his knowledge on both of your ancestral makeup.

“How…how do you know of that?”

“My grandfather told me….my great-great-grandfather, actually.” Still maintaining the grip on you, his eyes shift their gaze to the floor beneath your feet.

“….is he…?”

Heeseung knew where you were going with your words as they trailed off. He nodded as he looked into your eyes once more.

“Yeah…he is. I guess I’m one too…an Adam, or whatever we’re called.”

Feeling a moment of defeat caused you to look off to the side of your shoulder in amazement.

A whole male line of Adams that had been in the city you moved into and resided in for the last six months…how could you be so unlucky?

“We should talk.” Heeseung’s words were spoken firmly, but with a calm tone in his voice.

But you didn’t want to talk; you didn’t want to be in the same room or building as him. Your mother would scream if she were to witness this right now. You should be heading to the airport and getting a one-way ticket to Greece, next to the Adriatic Sea, just like your mother had done when your father was reaching of high age.

But Heeseungs expression was mellow and calm. You’re not sure what your mother had imagined or pictured in the case of seeing an Adam, no one did, apart from the original Sirens born directly out of Poseidon’s blood and seafoam. But you wondered if she had become overly fearful from what transpired with the direct line of the clan, because Heeseung was not presenting any threat that you could sense. There was no presence of danger or ill will, just him in his normal temperament. At least, for now.

You stayed, just for a little while to talk to him. Although the talking didn’t really start until after a very lengthy pause of silence, where you both found yourselves staring at the wall and the floor.

“What did your grandfather tell you?”

“Quite a bit. Mostly giving me an explanation…”

“An explanation?”

 Facing you directly, his legs were extended at a tilt to project the leaning posture he committed to against the front of your desk.

“…The day I met you…I started to…get this feeling.”

“A feeling?...” You raised your eyebrow, starting to get concerned with his choice of words.

“Yeah…well, more like urges. It was like…I had this instinct to always find you, to the point where I couldn’t sleep. That’s how I was able to find you tonight. There’s a pulse that beats faster…and louder when you’re nearby. It becomes more intense the closer I get to you. ”

You should have left right at that moment, but for some reason you needed to hear more as you grew dangerously curious about what he was saying.

“He told me that as a descendant of your bloodline…you don’t have the ability to physically feel anything…I guess that’s why, our bloodlines had history together.

“You’re saying ourancestors had history because we could feel…you?” you scoffed out.

You puzzled the concept of what his grandfather had told him. It didn’t appear to be as descriptive from what the women in your family had passed down to each generation.

“I have to go. I can’t be here with you.”

His face reflected a vivid image of disappointment. “Why?”

“Just…leave me alone, Heeseung. I’m…I’m thinking of leaving and moving away. I can’t be anywhere around you or your family.”

You didn’t know how to finish off your sentence, considering you truly were unaware of what would happen, it didn’t help that your mother was so vague, yet it wasn’t her fault, since more than likely didn’t know herself. She was only told the same things she shared with you.

“Would it be so bad if you…stayed?”

He asked you, evident in his attraction towards you, his affection and fondness towards you grew more intense each time you met up with him.

“I think it would be.” you spoke out bluntly, unsure how to back up the plausibility of your statement.

“I don’t think it would” He straightens his posture and moves away from his leaned state at the front of your desk. “ I think you’re scared…but you don’t seem to know what you’re scared of. Are you scared of me? Is that it, y/n?”

You avoided to answer. You became evasive to the manner of how he appealed to you with his demeanor and restricted yourself from making any subtle movement in your body to reflect that you were entertaining his rather appalling statement.

“It’s just…if you go, I don’t know if I can stop. It gets worse the more you push me away, and I can’t control it…you’re turning me into a monster.” He speaks out softly as he slowly makes his way towards you.

Your heart started to beat faster, your chest was sore, and your insides was churning.

“I just don’t know why…we can’t leave our ancestors out of it…out of me and you. I don’t know why…you believe that we can’t change the pace of history between our two family lines.”

He was appealing to you in earnest; the moment he saw your face he lost his breath from the sight before him.

Your eyes were like hooks, he couldn’t find any way to break contact from them. He’s never seen a woman so beyond beautiful. Society has given him a lot of mixed feelings when it comes to true and earthly beauty, with all the girls in Korea, and nearly every other continent, they all resorted to extreme artificial measures to enhance their faces and bodies. Yet, after exhausting so much time, effort, and money on to themselves, they didn’t reach his soul like you did.

You had an essence about you, an aura, and it wasn’t just an emotional vibe. He could see it in your eyes, lips and hear it through your voice, it only fueled him to become more daring, because to him, you were his Mona Lisa, the Virgin Mary, his Eve, the ideal canvas of womanhood.

The moment you shook his hand, and he saw the reaction on your face, his body felt like for the first time in his life, it was coming together like a puzzle, piece by piece. He never felt so whole, there was this yearning to feel more, and to see what else he’s missed out on in life.

He felt a burn that started in a consolidated state, right in the center of his chest. When he left for home that night from the party, he could feel it traveling his entire body, even in his skin. The only time it wasn’t infesting his soul was when he had you and touched you. That’s how he knew you belonged to him.

That minute when he was rendered motionless at the parking lot, he didn’t know what was happening but there was this knowing inside him that told him it was because of you. He needed to be close to you. He needed to be close, not for the fact that your obvious beauty was something that every man wanted for himself, although it was a triggering factor for him, but he also knew that you were special.

The flashbacks of your face, the sound of your voice, and the grace you carried as you walked, it felt unreal but also familiar to him and he was drawn to it. It wasn’t obsession or some level of infatuation, it was stronger. A lot stronger. He couldn’t sleep, eat, and every second he breathes the burn in his chest radiates with ignition.

He was suffering, yearning, and he was wanting. He would never admit it to you, although he already mentioned that he can pick up on your presence, but he had this continuous urge to find you. He needed to find you and keep you; he wasn’t sure if he hated himself for feeling that way, either. From the moment he started feeling the pressure, it was confusing and frustrating, but when his grandfather told him of their bloodlines, Heeseung began to accept that you both belonged with each other, and from the moment he came to that resolve, that’s when he started enjoying this game of seeking you out.

As Heeseung remained pensive, you raised your sight from the spot on the tile floor to tell him that you were leaving once more. But you stood frozen solid after noticing that while he was deep in thought, his eyes were staring straight into yours, right into the depths of your soul, almost as if he was seeing through you.

You’ve never seen eye contact like that, it was eerie to you. You would be lying if you told him that his eyes didn’t make you feel like you were in danger. They did.

You felt threatened, and intimidated. You’re not even sure how it was possible, but his face was different than how it looked just minutes ago, it had altered significantly enough to change his countenance, and it was literally happening before your very eyes.

His brows were normally straight which gave him a friendly, and soft appearance; however, you were stunned to notice that there was a bit of an arch to them. It casted a shadow over his eyes that, as you watched, hovered, and darkened the brown coloration, creating a marbling of black and glossy shine that was spearing through you. The round, almond shape became sleeker and narrower, his lids were heavier. The combination of the arch in his brows and the transition in his eyes made him look sinister.

His mouth was shut at a relaxed state, but you could see the minor movement in his jaw that his tongue was gliding over his teeth, the inside of his cheek, and behind his bottom lip. He looked hungry. His lips were no longer a lush, nude pink, instead, they were slightly darker, the maroon tint in the shade made him look bold. His cheeks, which normally had a suppleness to them, were slightly more contoured and sharper. His glare was so intense that you started to notice tiny beads of sweat tracing his hairline. His hair no longer looked soft, it was still combed over but the strands looked wild and rough, lacking the luster and smoothness they had just moments ago.

You could feel your eyes growing wider as you watched the transformation of his face, it was a subtle change, but the difference was vastly. He looked as if he matured a bit. Just as you noted all the changes, you were horrified when you noticed another change as he spoke.

“What?” He chuckles. “See something different? Or is there something about my face that you’re taking notice of?”  he smiles as he licks his lips, the look he gave to you..it was….

‘What is happening to him?...’

Heeseung’s voice was deep. It was calm but there was a vibration in his tone, it sent predatory signals to your ears. He said his words with a smirk, but it didn’t carry vibe of a quirky, fun, and playful essence. This one wasn’t like that at all. The corner of his mouth stitching upward, revealing teeth. When he opened his mouth, you watched as his tongue glides over the bottom row of his teeth, from cheek to cheek. He did it suggestively as you watched, while he tilted his chin down and narrowed his eyes at you.

You sprinted towards the door, quickly slamming the door shut as you simultaneously exited through, and ran out of the conference room, down the nearest stairwell going past each level as you desperately try to reach the first floor.  

Replaying the words he used earlier, when he spoke of the urges and how he couldn’t control them. You were beginning to realize that since he felt your skin and vice versa, the moment he saw your face, and smelled your scent, he had slowly been changing ever since.

Pushing him away and remaining distant from him these last few weeks did make him worse, but it was only his urges and desire to seek you out that was worsening. Refraining yourself from seeing him had only propelled the instincts in his blood to be drawed out from its suppressed state, like thunder, the urges and desires built from past generations of Adams, was all coming out through him.

You ran and exited the building, quickly flagging down a cab and making a trip back to your home.

Your heart was beating intensely, and fast. You were amazed that he escaped and that he didn’t follow you. Knowing that if you stayed at home for the night, he would have relied on those sensations to find you, since he’s now able to sense your presence.

Taking drastic measures, you figure it was safer to collect your belongings and head to the airport. It wasn’t the life you wanted to live, but the instinctive fear within you from this man compelled you to take the route of your mother, and the women before her. You were planning on going to Greece, and back where your ancestors emerged from, the sea.

Realizing that you were in such a rush to leave, you had left your wallet behind. Thankfully, you had additional identification at home, not to mention your passport.

The cab drops you off, and you hurriedly made your way to the door. Entering, you didn’t bother to flick on any of the lights, just one that remained dimmed as you quickly gathered your things.

As you grabbed your suitcase, you jammed anything you got your hands on, not even concerned about matching attire or going through a list, since you only had planned on being on land for one day. By the morning after you fly in, you’ll be in the water, searching for your mother and the other Sirens.

‘I can’t believe it’s come to this…I didn’t want to live that life…I wanted to stay…and I would have been able to, if it wasn’t for him.’

Pausing for a moment, you felt the frustration of having to be forced to take a path that didn’t please you. Not only that, but what if you couldn’t find your mother or the others? What then? You would be forced to roam the ocean alone…forever alone. Hiding away from men and land to conceal your identity and secret.

You knelt onto the floor with your hands on the edge of your bed to support your weakened frame as you quietly sobbed.

“Why are you crying?”

His voice….HIS VOICE….

Snapping your head back, your eyes widened as you turned your body to the side and begin tapping your fingers on the floor beneath you, wanting to grab onto something…anything, yet the smooth flat surface didn’t grant your wish.

He walks over, kneels right beside you, facing your direction. With a soft and deep tone, he smirks and asks you yet again.

“Why...are you crying, y/n?”

The tears in your eyes begin to stream down. You didn’t’ want to answer him, knowing full well that his resolve would be to try and convince you to stay with him, which was another route that you didn’t want.

“If you don’t want to go, then stay. Be mine…forever. We have our whole lives, and from the looks of it, it might be eternal…” he smirks as he reaches up, wiping the tears from your delicate face.

“So fucking pretty…” he chuckles slightly out of joy. “To think that I get to wake up every single day and see this face…” he leans into you, you suspected he was going to kiss you as he eyeballed your lips, but you turned your face away harshly.

He sighs out in disappointment. Once again, his features begin to change into a darker appeal from his normal countenance.

“…It wouldn’t be so bad, y/n. To be with the one person who understands you…. wouldn’t question your unchanged appearance and wouldn’t turn on you and reveal your secret to the world…it wouldn’t be bad at all. Why? Why can’t you see that being with me….it would make your life easier…it would make mine happier.”

His fingertips slide down your arm as he gazes down to the subtle exposure of your cleavage, emerging from the neckline of your dress.

“P-please…just leave me alone…I don’t want to leave but I don’t want to be with you. I’m…I’m scared.”

Looking back up at you, his face was stern. He looks down at your hands as he questions your remark.

“You shouldn’t be…I care for you…I desire you…i…I love you.” he softly whispers the last bit.

“Heeseung stop!”

“But I do….i love you, I want to marry you, I want to be with you. I want to keep you…so let me….let me keep you. I’m trying to give you the freedom of choice but if you’re going to be stubborn about it, then I’ll be the same way.”

He embraces you and pulls you against his frame.

“Stop!”

Shifting upwards, he pulls you up as he stands, locking both your lips in the process.

“Stop please!”

“Can you feel that? Can you….?” he speaks in between his kisses, which became more relentless and stronger the more he did it to you.

“Fuck…I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this…you’re so amazing.” He gasps out, his eyes extremely wide as he pauses the kiss. Stepping forward, he causes you to step back and fall onto the bed, with him remaining plastered to your body as he falls atop of you, smothering your face with kisses.

“Stop! Why? Why are you doing this?”

He didn’t answer for a moment or two, he was tenacious on kissing, licking, and biting your skin as his mouth was harshly assaulting your neck, chin, and collar bones.

Finally, he pauses and looks at you, pressing your foreheads together.

“Y/n…you must be a virgin…aren’t you? I bet you never had the urge to do it since…you never felt anything.” He watches as your lips quivered.

“H-Heeseung…please…don’t…just don’t.”

“I can…I can do it…I can make you everything….but since it’s your first time…it’s going to hurt….alot.” He grins against your lips, his eyes go back to being wide as he stares into yours.

“Please….i’ve never done anything…I wouldn’t….i wouldn’t hurt you or your family…or anyone…why are you doing this? Why, Heeseung?”

His expression showed off a hint of amusement.

“I already told you…I can’t control it…you’re turning me into a monster…you’re bringing out the beast within me.”

Reaching up, he gently moves the pieces of hair that lay across your face. Even with the sinister appeal within his face, he softly smiles…it was gentle and somewhat warm.

“I promise…after tonight, the next time, it wont hurt as much.” He states, gently giving you a small kiss before he continued. “But tonight…I’m afraid there’s going to be a little bit of pain…”

Looking up as he traps you within his arms, you felt hopeless.

“Let me have you…y/n just say yes. If you don’t…you’re only making it worse…I wont stop….say yes baby…let me ease my craving…let me have you, let me keep you, let me worship you….”

‘You must go back to the sea….y/n.’

For a moment, your mother’s voice travels your mind.

‘I’m sorry…mama…..i’m sorry. I really tried….but he won’t stop…he keeps coming after me. I want to leave…I really do…I wanted to live my life and continue moving on…but I’m afraid I wont be able to…at least….not without him. I have no choice. I give up….because now that he knows what he is…what I am…and now that he realizes his capabilities….I’m afraid that I am no longer safe, no matter where I go….even if it is in the sea.’

Closing your eyes, you nod as your nose grazes his cheek from the closed distance between your faces.

“Really?” he softly gasps out in delight. “You’ll be mine…forever? You’ll stay with me as long as we both live?”

Once again, you nod as you winced your eyes shut. Emotionally stabbed by the future that you’re faced with, you didn’t know if it was the fear of running into anymore Adams…or if it was the fact that Heeseung could find you no matter where you were. You gave up.

Excited at your obedience to his desires, he mashes his face against yours and engages in a heated kiss while grabbing onto your waist.

Pausing as he begins to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders, he softly kisses them with the most tender and soft kisses you’ve ever witnessed, let alone felt. They all trailed up your neck, and up to your ear. Whispering deeply with a soft and tender tone, he tells you.

“Scream for me…my Siren. Scream out my name.”

[shat-on-the-dick]

So I was rereading Beautiful Carnage last night and it got me thinking about what Pauline and Reiner’s lore would be if they were in a Modern AU. 😼 (I live for their chemistry)

HI HI!!! TY FOR THE ASK AND FOR REREADING THE FIC!!! I have so many scenarios and HCS for them in a modern AU, ty for the ask again!!

In a modern AU, I always think about them in college, so I'll go with that. I imagine Reiner and Pauline meet after he transfers from his previous university to Paradis, due to mental health issues. He was the quarterback for the football team there (I literally know nothing about football, it's just a common HC that I adopted JDJSHS plus he's a player in the school castes universe so).

In his previous college, he was much like his soldier persona, smug, cool looking, everybody looked up to him, everyone wanted to be with him (we stan a bisexual king), he had a scholarship due to his role in the team, good grades, confident, handsome and generally seemed very well put together.

Tho, we all know even in canonverse that he kept his true feelings hidden under this persona, and it eventually cracked in this AU as well. He came from a low-income family (Karina raised him all alone, after all, after the fucker of his father left them), so he had to keep his good grades and his good performance in the team to keep the scholarship. Plus, Karina (like in canonverse) pushed him towards this constructed persona without caring for his true feelings and wishes. Tho, in this version, I imagine Karina didn't want to reunite with his father but rather, wanted Reiner TO BE like his father, even tho Reiner is much more sensitive and caring by nature. I imagine his father used to be this macho type, boisterous, hypermasculine and toxic af. So Reiner wanted his mother to like him more, so he adopted into his persona what he thought would make his mother care more for him.

ANYWAY, going back, his persona cracked after so much time shoving away his true wishes and personality. His grades plummeted and his performance as well, making him lose the scholarship, and you can imagine how good his relationship with his mom became. Depression and anxiety took over. He transfered to Paradis uni to start over from scratch, new people that didn't know him and thus didn't have any expectation of him. Also, I imagine he studies Business administration or physical education.

Enter Pauline: she's the class representative and studies Psychology. She is friends with Mikasa, Armin, Jean and the whole crew, apart from Eren. Eren is her toxic ex-bf (it's a divergence from canonverse, she and Eren didn't have anything there and they were just friends and colleagues).

Eren at some point WAS good for her, building up her confidence and helping her say "fuck it" to her parents who were always travelling for work and left her alone her entire life. At some point, he became toxic and began deconstructing every good trait she had developed, breaking down her confidence, her relationships with other people and her independence. They broke up, but Eren won't leave her alone, even tho there is no chance they get back together.

Anyway, Pauline is calm and collected like in canonverse, she cares deeply for other people (hence studying Psychology and bring class representative) but she's not very easy to approach, since she is really serious, at least in this environment. Other times, she's a party animal, horny on main and has a broken humor.

They meet when Pauline finds Reiner on his first week beginning to have a panic attack, new environment, people and fear or blowing everything up again. Pauline calms him down, and buys him a coffee. Reiner is embarrassed but grateful, he takes her number with the excuse to buy her a coffee in return.

Reiner starts playing for the Paradis football team, Pauline introduces him to everyone, and everyone warms up to him pretty quickly. Reiner sees Pauline as a really cool, interesting and intelligent girl, that hides her warmth under a nonchalant persona. Pauline sees Reiner as a kind and caring guy, really intelligent and capable, even tho he's had it rough. Reiner feels he can be himself with her, like she can with him.

Drama sparks when Eren sees them getting close and starts to bother Pauline even more so, and Historia has her eyes on Reiner, her being the queen bee, so she has to have the new handsome nice guy.

They kiss for the first time when Eren ruins a party for Pauline, she goes out crying and Reiner follows, he drives them far away in his truck and they spend the night, drinking, watching the stars and talking about everything and anything, until they finally kiss.

OOOOF THAT WAS A LOT. No titans, no war, so no betrayal and everything, but their personalities are the same from canonverse, just their relationship that starts off in a better note and doesn't have so many comings and goings.

TY SO MUCH FOR THE ASK AND IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE, ID LOVE TALKING ABT THEM!!!!

Didn't give much background about modern AU Pauline, but if you are interested, I can give more details!

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - June 18th

I read so much this week!!! And so much was delightful I’m super excited about this list! I did re-read Bulletpoints this week which is 100% reflected in my fic reading as well. Enjoy that.  

Check out this week’s reads and be sure to leave your author a comment/kudos! 

~*~ 

Time, Space, Flesh by veryvincible 

“I’ve got a hotel room,” Tony said.

“And if we’re seen?”

Tony’s response came quick, too confident. He’d given the same spiel many times before. “Oh, you know. Good friends. Had a bit to drink. Maybe we’re French— you know how it is. Besides, we’ve been here for how long, now? If anyone was going to notice you, you’d think they’d have done it by now.”

The Day Before Tomorrow by lastdream

Less than twenty-four hours before the Iron Man's last fight, Steve Rogers gets an evening to himself.

Icebreaker by Sineala

Months after Tony is murdered on a strange, starless world, a world almost no one remembers, Steve plummets from a drone plane into the cold waters of the North Atlantic. He's fully expecting not to survive -- but instead he wakes up on another new world, where he meets a very familiar stranger. And it turns out the two of them have a lot in common.

Not Your Reality (The Time-Out Remix) by Veldeia

An unlikely visitor crash-lands at Natasha Stark and Steve Rogers' doorstep on the eve of their wedding. Just who is this alternate universe Iron Man?

Marriage and Mate Chases by NotEvenCloseToStraight

A Regency-ish AU:

Strict, stern Alpha Captain Steve Rogers is firmly in control of himself, his army, and his life and intends to marry an Omega who shares the same ideals while wild, flighty Omega!Tony loves to flaunt Howard's rules, society's expectations and has no intention of settling down.

An arranged marriage forces Alpha and Omega together, but Steve's constant disapproval and Tony's refusal to compromise leads to anger and arguments, missed heats, harsh ruts and a lack of bonding bites. Vicious rumours fly about the Omega's fidelity and the Alpha's ability to control his mate and when Steve runs away to war to distance himself from his unpredictable husband, Tony turns to new friends and illicit activities to hide his hurting heart.

Steve returns from war a changed man ready to be a good husband, dedicating every minute of every day to winning Tony's heart back, but Tony is tired of being ignored, busy with his own projects and unwilling to give the Alpha another chance.

With outside forces plotting to ruin what little happiness they have, are Steve and Tony doomed to be unbonded husbands, married but never truly mates?

Some Dragons Are Famous Dragons by Eudoxia 

Bucky's not surprised when Steve beings home stray cats, dogs, and even a raccoon once, but a dragon?

Really, Steve? A dragon?

A dragon that likes to steal tools and watch the news about missing persons, too.

Anthony and Natasha by TheCityLightShow

On Steve's sixteenth birthday, as was the norm, he woke up with a name on his wrist, etched beautifully into his skin. In blocky, scruffy handwriting now sat “Natasha Stark” on his left wrist.

It was elegant handwriting, but not in a way that anyone other than Steve would share the notion.

Now, he's out of the ice, and he lifts his wrist to his face as his vision swims for a second. Oh thank god, he thinks at the sight of the black blur that mars his wrist, and then his thought processes stutter and screech to halt because it's changed.

The handwriting is still the blocky scruffy script that he loves, that holds comfort for him in the cross of the t and the arc of the r, but it's not Natasha. It doesn't say Natasha Stark any more.

No, the name on his wrist is Anthony Stark.

This time – this new time, Director Fury explains to him, this time sixty seven years in the future – this time he will find him. Whether they're ninety like he should be, or closer to his actual age, Steve won't make the same mistake twice.

 He doesn't tell SHIELD that the name in their file is now wrong.

Emergency Protocol by navaan 

In New Avengers V1 era, Tony and Steve discuss the Avengers Protocol for Bang or Die situations. It's awkward. It gets hot - and then it gets out of hand but maybe they're getting to the heart of something that they should have discussed a long time ago.

You could have my heart, and I would break it for you by Missy_dee811

The mission they’d been on had been an abject failure. Even if the rest of the Avengers had been able to stay on task, it wouldn’t matter. Two of their own were missing: Iron Man and Captain America.

Sacrifice the Gift by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes) 

When a biological agent nearly takes the life of Captain America, Iron Man risks everything to keep his friend alive. Now Tony Stark needs to deal with the fallout.

Sleepwalking by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Every year on Tony Stark's birthday, his soulmate Steven Grant Rogers crosses time and distance to spend the day with him...until the day the Valkyrie goes into the water in 1943.

Fifty years in the future, Tony starts a desperate search to find Steve beneath the ice, racing against time and fate to bring his soulmate into the newest century so they can finally be together.

like daylight by ohjustpeachy

Because through all of it, the slammed fists and the miscommunications, the people he invited into his bed and kicked out in the morning, he never thought that it would be Steve Rogers in the end.

Or, Tony thinks back on past relationships and why they never worked out.

Nothing Else but Miracles (An Ancient Secrets and New-born Dreams Remix) by Muccamukk

In the rough and tumble of the Lower East Side, the only constants in Steve's life are the solid black letters of the name on his wrist. Because even with the law and society against them, his world falling apart piece by piece, and his search for his soulmate taking him to stranger and wilder places, Steve has faith that finding Tony Stark is only a matter of time.

my one and only by meidui (orphan_account)

Tony has been self-conscious about his laugh lines lately, but Steve always takes his hands and kisses his face, telling him he loves them. It’s the truth. Tony looks so beautiful with them, and they remind Steve of what a privilege it is to grow old with him.

A bullet to mend our hearts by tonymystark

Tony is stuck in a time loop; he keeps getting thrown back to their fight in the quinjet before the whole invasion. He finally figures out how to end the loop.

Safe Haven by gottalovev, zappedbysnow

It's been three months since the Battle of New York. Four since Steve woke up in the future. Everything is still too fast, too bright, too glib. And then, as if it wasn't enough, Steve is dragged through a portal into an alternate universe. Other Him is happy, though, and that feels like hope.

No Good Deed by raeldaza for merelydovely 

Steve’s not happy in the future. Tony gets it in his head that he’ll be a good friend and create a time machine to send Steve back to the 40s.

But as time ticks on, and Steve and Tony grow closer, do either of them actually want Steve to use it?

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you by Mizzy

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.

Bright Things and Fair by sheron 

The course of true love never did run smooth — and neither did time-travel to retrieve the Tesseract. When circumstances outside their control force Steve and Tony to spend more time together in the 1970, they do what two people with their history do under the circumstances: work together and try to get through it without unnecessary feelings getting in the way. Falling for each other is definitely a bad idea, isn't it?

[fleckcmscott]

Tiny Sparks

Summary: On a beautiful night in Gotham, Arthur and Y/N enjoy a long awaited date.

Words: 3,441

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: @sweet-nothings04 requested a story that covered the date night mentioned in Ch. 5 of Way Back Home. Never had I thought that writing something relatively simple would be such a challenge! 😂 Thank you so much for the request! I hope you all enjoy. 😊 Much appreciation to @forever-fleck​ for allowing me to use one of her lovely edits for the intro-pic.

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

The refrigerator's glow beckoned like a distant star.

A salad packed for Y/N's lunch tomorrow. One inch of Five Alive orange juice in a plastic pitcher. An open can of Heinz baked beans sealed with plastic wrap. No, no, no. He scanned the door. Universal Foods ketchup, poppy seed dressing, mustard that dated back to 1982...

"Ah ha." Arthur ripped the jar of green olives from the shelf, twisted the lid with the urgency of a man opening a bottle of nitroglycerin. He shoved a spoon into the jar, shoved it in his mouth. The night out would delay dinner by three hours. By quarter past seven, his stomach had gotten loud enough to be picked up by a microphone.

Tummy tided over, he went to the bedroom to finish getting dressed. Though summer, a cold front had rolled in, settled over the city since Tuesday, a refreshing sixty-two degrees. He slid a short-sleeve dress shirt up his arms. Slipped a navy sweater off a wooden hanger, the cardigan with red, yellow, and pink stripes along the placket. A sheer knit out of one of Mabel's catalogs, perfect for layering, according to his sister-in-law. And the splashes of color fit the image he wanted to present tonight.

This would be his first performance since Y/N's and his return from Missouri. He'd written and rewritten, practiced his stance and body language, studied his facial expressions and showbiz grin. Done everything he could to make his material work. Whether it was confidence that spiraled upward or the urgent need to get onstage, he couldn't tell. But he had an inkling it'd all go swimmingly. Would've bet his last dollar on it.

As he folded back the sweater's cuffs, Y/N breezed through the doorway. She swooped to snag a pair of sandals from the closet floor and sat in the corner chair.

"Don't forget to tuck in your shirt," she said. Ankle crossed over knee, she secured a beige strap around her heel.

His movements slowed while he observed her. Since coming home, their emotional connection had deepened to a depth that rivaled the Mariana Trench. She'd seemed to strike an accord, both with him and herself. Revealed an openness she'd hidden behind a disarming smile whenever dodging the rare inquiry about her former life.

Now when she shared recollections, her face brightened more than it darkened. They browsed her photo album a couple times a week, getting through a few pages here and there. Some days only one. There were moments she'd cut herself off, maintain the border she'd built within her heart to banish the bad.

"Old habits are hard to break," she'd say, front teeth shoved into bottom lip, the pressure turning it waxy. But more and more, she pushed forward. Gave space and voice to her experiences. Interlinked their pasts and paths, the roads crisscrossing between them.

In therapy, he'd talked about their trip, what Y/N had told him. Disclosed what was sufficient for Dr. Ludlow to get the drift. "It's hard for Y/N," he said. "I wanna be there for her. I don't want her to be sad anymore." Fourteen years of sadness had been enough.

"I think it's wonderful you want to help her. That many years of caregiving takes a toll. But she loved her father deeply, and sadness is a typical reaction to those types experiences. Let me ask you: if something happened to Y/N, what would your response be?"

His heart became a cannonball that plummeted to his stomach. "I'd die."

"No," Dr. Ludlow said, uncrossing her legs. "You would not die. You'd come to my office, and we'd work through it together. My point - we come back to this a lot - is that no emotion is negative. It's what you do with your feelings that matters. Sadness isn't a bad feeling. Unpleasant, yes, but necessary. It's a wave we all ride, just like happiness or anger. Let her ride those waves and be her lifejacket when she needs it. You'll know. Trust yourself to know."

He'd followed that guidance to the letter. The other night, they'd gone to bed at the usual hour, lain in the mottled blackness of their room. Soft snoring was the usual lullaby that sung him to sleep, but her repeated sighs continued well past midnight. He'd turned to find her on stomach, forearms shoved beneath her pillow. He'd pressed a kiss to the velvety valley between her shoulders. Placed a protective palm on her side.

She'd rolled onto her back. Spoke with a smile and wet eyes. "You give me a lot of strength by letting me be weak."

The inclination to argue had twisted his tongue. He'd gnawed the tip to stop himself. There was no way he'd say what he wanted at half-past lights out, anyway. Plus, he understood what she meant. Weakness was a hard-won refuge, third nature and allowed only with him. Still. During the decades they'd spend together, her characterization would be one they'd never agree on. It went right on the list alongside the greatness of Gotham and the entertainment value of Milton Berle.

Adjusting her champagne dress's petal sleeves, she swished past him to pluck gold earrings from her jewelry box and stepped to the vanity on the opposite side of the bed. She stuck a post through her left earlobe and screwed on the backing. "Mabel wants a tape of your set."

His great inkling suddenly shrunk to a pinpoint. "Why?" Recordings and he had a sordid history.

"She's dying to hear your material. That's a direct quote."

"Well... Would she accept a picture? I can write a joke on the back."

"How about this. I'll bring my recorder, and if you're happy with your performance, we'll send a copy. A lot of comedians record their sets."

"Oh yeah? A lot of comedians who? How do you know?"

"I've been to a show or two by now." She lined her eyes in the usual sable. "It might be good to hear the audience's reactions without the pressure of being on stage. What worked and what didn't."

"But that's why I have you," he said. When she smoothed a thin layer of silky rose shadow on her eyelids, he slinked up behind her. Traced a line down her bare arm and murmured in her ear. "You don't need all that."

"Uh huh. You don't say that when I'm wearing lace." The applicator dabbed his nose, leaving a pale circle in its wake.

Chuckling, he wiped the powder into his sleeve. "Okay. We can tape it. I think I'll be all right. I practiced a lot."

"You'll be more than all right." She spun to wrap her arms about his waist. "Just trust yourself."

A familiar directive, an encouraging echo. Her chin rested on his shoulder, warm breath on his neck. Tender hands followed the curve of her back, the zippered seam of her dress. His wedding ring gleamed in the mirror's reflection. "I will," he promised.

~~~~~

When Arthur had told her he'd signed up for an open mic at a new joint, Y/N had assumed it'd be the usual smoky nightclub, the kind frequented by couples who ordered one too many drinks. She was overdressed for a casual dining restaurant. And what were these kids doing here at this time of night? She would've tucked her nephews and nieces in by eight on the dot.

The microphone stood in the corner, a lone figure lit by the same recessed, sixty-five-watt bulbs as the tables. Behind it was a man in a faded purple t-shirt and rainbow suspenders, telling jokes about the shapes of jars. The ukulele he strummed was missing a fourth string. It struck Y/N that he was the perfect lead-in for Arthur's newest material. Family friendly and a little left footed.

No spotlight was in sight, so Y/N claimed the nearest two-top to be Arthur's spotlight. She retrieved her cassette recorder from her purse, set it in the center of the table, and scanned the crowd.

A man with lush, brunette hair picked his nose. Studied what he'd found while the woman next to him rolled her eyes and cried Oh, Harold. He stuck the golden nugget in a handkerchief. A grandmother wiped spaghetti sauce from her granddaughter's hands and asked for a doggy bag. One pair, in their fifties and looking as fish out of water as Y/N, shared a pitcher of cloudy beer.

Without a drink list on offer, Y/N had to forgo a Tequila Sunrise. She ordered plain seltzer for Arthur and a diet cola. After the show, they'd have Mai Tais at Traffic Light. Enact the plan they'd made surrounded by sunlight and strawberries.

Their vacation remained fresh in her mind, persistent as water flows shaping sandstone. What she'd assumed would be a search for reconnection and amends had turned into the mirror she'd avoided. The parts of herself she'd shielded Arthur from, the wounds she'd submerged in her marrow had flooded outward. A fountain of broken dreams and regrets, deep enough to drown in.

Her husband was a good, kind man. He'd been the first man she'd dated who'd lived her plight. The first chance to share what eight years of caregiving had done to her. Yet, she'd denied herself that comfort, convinced doing so would dismay him. And make her soul hurt all the worse.

And it had. Sometimes it still did. She'd spent too long trying to move on from it all. Yearning to forget. But the haven of Arthur's heart (and not a little prodding) allowed her to let go. Opening herself to him lightened her load, lessened her fear. The moments she felt small, protected by love and acceptance, brought an unexpected bliss. Turned the Shit She Refused to Talk About into the Shit She Could Talk About on Good Days.

Despite her relief, she'd had trouble sleeping when they'd returned. He'd made her chamomile, brought her along to the fire escape. Pulled her to his lap and guided head to his shoulder. Gently, he'd teased that it was nice to have company that late at night.

Puffing a cigarette, he'd shared past mistakes. A sampling of his notions after Penny had had her stroke, the ones that'd made him question if he was a bad person. If he had the capacity to love within him. He'd adopted the formal posture of a licensed therapist. "The doctor says we all them. Those thoughts. It's okay that you've had them, too."

Revealing his shadow self, the trust he granted her even after her confession, fertilized the seed of grace he'd planted at the cowboy bar. Vine by vine it grew, winding itself through each rib, weaving between her collarbones, wrapping around the facets of her neck. Every touch, every glance was an imprint of a promise. That no matter what had happened, no matter what would happen, he would love her.

He was helping her paste her dreams back together.

Rainbow Suspenders ducked out. Arthur emerged from the restroom alcove to the right. Diners seated along the wall offered a smattering of applause, breaking her out of her reverie and into a wide smile.

Nervous sweat shined his forehead, slender fingers played with one cuff. He began with a long breath and exaggerated bow. A trick he'd developed to hide that he was gauging his condition, the likelihood of ill-timed laughter. Once he'd straightened and caught her eye, he gave a little nod, more of a chin bob. She winked and pressed Record on the tape deck.

"Hello," he said, the start of his typical introduction. "I'm Arthur. It's good to be here. You know, growing up in Gotham was like staying in one place. There's a lot to do, but when you're a poor person it's hard to pay attention."

A cackle from the rear, a hearty guffaw to her left. The din of cutlery and conversation lowered. The press of everyone's attention turned to center stage.

With a flourish, Arthur took his journal from his pocket, presented it as a prop instead of an aid. He thumbed through its pages and leaned into the mic conspiratorially. "I've heard it's not nice to talk about someone behind their back. But what if you've talked to their front, and they want to walk all over you?"

~~~~~

Traffic Light was one of Gotham's best deals. Four dollars for an overflowing mound of Thai delicacies, one self-service plate stacked as high as GCR's Twin Towers. Available after nine o'clock Tuesdays and Thursdays. No sharing, please. Avoid waste and take plenty of napkins.

Just beyond the glass entryway, a praying Buddha statue greeted them, the tip of its ushnisha taller than a stupa. Golden elephants marched along sequined tapestries, plastic greenery hung from the ceiling, cradled in beige macrame. Behind the register, floral garlands topped royal family portraits. And facing the bar was a spirit house the size of a fax machine, where green tea and coconuts were offered for protection. Warm, woody incense merged with the pungent smell of curry to make Y/N's mouth water.

Arthur's long strides beat her to the buffet. He grabbed a scalloped plate, held it parallel to his chest. Drummed the bottom while he studied the unfamiliar cuisine. Grinning, she stepped forward to be his guide.

Chicken satay and steamed jasmine rice found an immediate home on his dish, peanut sauce cuddled up to dependable crispy wings. Scallion pancakes were deep friend, making him an instant fan. On her advice, he added a scoop of vegetable tempura, just to get a vitamin or two in his system. When he poked a squid's suckers, his expression was a mask of alarm. The seafood stir fry was a firm pass. Y/N ordered the yellow curry - two star spicy this time.

They settled on brown wicker bar chairs at the counter, which ran along the front window, facing the street. People hustling to work, to a relaxing night of dozing in an easy chair before the television, to fluttery first dates.

"So." Arthur dipped sliced carrot in her curry sauce, speaking and sipping his cocktail. "What did you think? I couldn't really hear the crowd. I was too nervous."

"No one could tell. You were a real professional out there." She nibbled the last vestiges of meat from a chicken bone. Wiped her fingers and pulled a folded tissue from her purse. "I just had a couple ideas."

"You took notes?"

"You can compare them to the tape later."

His set had started off strong and ended on a high note, bridging a lull that'd sagged the middle. He'd only been a beat off at times, a pause post-setup a split second too long. "The crowd got quiet about halfway through," she said.

"Maybe they were listening?" he asked. She didn't have to look to know he was somewhere between a squint and a grin. His tender tone held a challenge.

"It's possible. But I think they anticipated your shtick, the 'why' and 'what do you get' format of your jokes." Her fingertip followed the points on her paper. "Instead of asking, 'Why is marriage like fine wine?' you could deliver the whole joke as a sentence or two. What about, 'Marriage is like fine wine. The more it ages, the rarer it is.' And than make it personal by mentioning your favorite."

"Like, 'My wife and I are a fine Moscato?'"

"Merlot ages better."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he swiveled on his stool in mock offense. "Well, it is my joke." A truth and a tease.

She popped the last bite of spring roll between his lips, followed the gesture with a peck. He caught her jaw and brought her back for another. Head hazy, she dropped her lashes. Leaned into the warm palm cradling her cheek.

He wasn't the funniest comedian she'd ever heard. But he was the one she loved the most.

Just as he dug out his wallet, a couple halted on the sidewalk, breaking their stride directly in front of them. The man wore a pastel, plaid sportscoat, the woman a blue sweater embroidered with a white Scottish terrier. Y/N recognized them as the older pair from the restaurant, kindred guppies in need of a pond.

Plaid Jacket pointed through the window, waved the wave of the overexcited, and darted through the door.

He wiped his meaty hand on his trousers and extended it to Arthur. "Hey, weren't you that guy at Laughs Lots?" His breath stank of shitty casual dining beer.

"Yes," Arthur said, taking the offered hand. His smile started off disbelieving but then crinkled his entire face. "Yeah! That was me."

"Well, I'll be. Always wanted to do an open mic night, never had the guts, though. I play harmonica. I'm Bob."

The woman on his arm gave a swift nod. "Bob's real good, too. He's got 'The Entertainer' down pat."

That wasn't the first tune Y/N associated with a harmonica. But Arthur's style of jokes wasn't what she expected out of comedy, either.

"And that must be the little lady," Bob continued, nudging Arthur's arm. Then his eyes popped. "I've gotta take a leak." On that note, he jogged towards the back of the restaurant, fists at his side like he was running a race.

Y/N snorted and patted her handbag. She hushed her voice and leaned towards Arthur, upper arm brushing his bicep. "See? You can mail that tape tomorrow."

~~~~~

With the brisk night air and clear, velvet skies, they decided to skip the train and walk home. They threaded around trash bags, hopped over sidewalk cracks, ran the last block to Sheldon Park. It'd closed an hour after sunset, but the iron gate's chain remained unlatched, either as an oversight or because the lock was broken. Likely the latter.

Y/N glanced over both shoulders. Pushed the gate ajar and slipped through the opening. Squeezed Arthur's hand and pulled him to follow.

Camping tents were set off from main entrance, tucked behind a dirt trail. Four or five, a number likely to grow given Gotham's continued stagnation. Flames licked the edges of a metal barrel, where men in ragged jackets warmed their fingers. Along the main path, two teenagers sat with a boombox, blasting the latest Run D.M.C. hit Arthur hadn't heard. Their sunglasses must've been to protect their retinas from their sneakers. Their shoes were so white they glowed. The two clinked Tab bottles and swigged.

Cinching the belt of her spring coat, she continued towards the center of the park. For being smack dab in the middle of the urban landscape, it was surprisingly quiet. No horse hooves clacked, no skateboards whizzed past. Hip hop was out of earshot now. About a minute later, he recognized where they were headed.

Ducks busied themselves on the rear side of the pond, chit chatting and grooming one another. Others slept with beaks buried under their feathers. The nearby bench was a recent addition, grass hadn't yet sprouted around its legs. Y/N sped ahead of him and took a seat. Leaned against the backrest and looked up.

It was six seconds before she spoke. "See that?" she asked and pointed at the sky. "That's the North Star."

"It's the bright one, right?" He settled next to her on the edge of the bench.

"In the tail of the little dipper. My father taught me where it was in case I ever got lost." A light laugh left her. "He tried to show me other constellations, but I was terrible at finding them. But on clear nights, we made our own. The Kite. The Tablespoon. The Stethoscope - though I think that's Orion's club or something." She folded her hands together in her lap. "The stars are hard to see here, with all the skyscrapers and lights. They're the one thing I miss from back home."

Arthur studied her face, all the details he'd memorized. Her brows remained relaxed, her eyes dry, cheeks flushed a subtle pink. He laced his fingers through hers. "I'm sorry you can't see them here."

"Don't be." Her gaze locked with his, eased into a smile. "You're the brightest star of all."

Happy roiling whirled his stomach, his pulse skipped a beat. He felt a sudden, indefinable feeling of rightness. He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissed them and kissed her mouth. She tasted like curry and coconut milk.

Scooting away, adjusting as he went, he reclined to rest his head on her shoulder. Look towards the stars and dream.

"Which one's The Kite?"

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes @fleckficgirl

[earth-93]

BRIGADE FILES: ANGEL (Part 1)

Stars & Stripes Hotline [Version 1.09]

C: \login\BuddyHolly

C:\Users\mini\BrigadeFiles\Xmen

Directory of C: \BrigadeFiles\Xmen

04/25/2006 7:27 PM Total Files Listed: 15 File(s) 168,248 bytes

Directory of C:\BrigadeFiles\Xmen\WORTHINGTON_WREN.txt

[file data =

Main Alias/Moniker: Angel

Legal Name: Wren Kathleen Worthington

Other Aliases: Warren III, The Avenging Angel

Date of Birth: December 21st, 1984 (Age: 21)

Status: Alive

Species: Mutant

Sex: Female

Gender: Cisgender

Height/Weight: 5'9'' (1.75m) / 135 lbs (61.2kg)

Hair/Eye Color: Blonde / Blue

Timeline (1985 - 2002): Wren is the heiress to the Worthington Airlines travel empire. Her grandfather Warren aided in the war effort along the likes of Howard Stark, but exited defense after the war to pursue commercial travel. Under his son's ownership, Worthington Airlines became one of the biggest luxury airlines in the world. Warren Jr was so dead-set on continuing the family name that he had no other names planned but Warren III. When the baby turned out to be a girl, Wren's name was a suggestion from her mother after her birth.

Wren was an energetic child, which prompted her parents to sign her up for extracurriculars after her excitability became too much of a nuisance to both them and the family house staff. Athletics and pagentry were the two most noteworthy ventures, and the former being one Wren held in high regard all through childhood. Wren has often compared it to her wings: It's something wholly her own, and is only limited by her own applications. By adolescence, Wren was enrolled into the Massachusetts Academy. She was pressured by her parents to involve herself with the Hellions, a school clique made up of children of Hellfire Club members such as herself. Wren maintained a minimal association with the Hellions, preferring the company of the school jocks. Wren became a prized track and field star while at the Academy, and by the time she was sixteen she and her parents were routinely speaking with college and Olympic scouts.

Timeline (2002): Around her eighteenth birthday, however, when Wren's mutant traits began to develop. It reportedly started off as cramps and strains in her shoulders, then visible bruises that grew all over her upper back. Wren eventually awoke in the middle of the night from a sharp pain and discovered nubs growing out from the bruises. Wren's family was already in the area to pick her up for holiday, and Wren's father refused to send her to a hospital for alleged concern over unwanted attention on the family, and instead hired two specialists to meet with them in the Worthington winter cabin up in the Adirondack Mountains for personal treatment.

One of those specialists was none other than the Professor. Even in the short drive from the city to update, Wren's mutation was rapidly growing. By the time he has arrived, her wings had fully grown, feathers and all. Though her parents were distressed, once the pain and shock of her growing wings faded Wren was reportedly elated with her changes. The Professor has said that his and Wren's earliest exchanges mostly occurred telepathically, as Wren opted to spend winter break soaring across the area rather than he around her parents.

On the last day of holiday, Week checked her phone to find a series of voicemails from a school friend, Amanda Cobb. Amanda had confided to Wren in a moment of great distress over being abused by a coach at the Academy (Weeks earlier, Amanda had walked in on Wren inspecting the bruises along her back and assumed she was being abused by the coach as well). This revelation threw Wren into a blind rage, putting her abilities to the limit by flying uninterrupted from Adirondack to Massachusetts in little under an hour. Wren hauled the coach high into the sky and let him plummet back down. By all accounts, it was only through the Professor's psychic intervention that Wren was restrained from letting the coach crash back down to Earth. It was certainly enough to coerce the him to confess his crimes.

Timeline (2003): By the time classes resumed at the Academy, the school was so swept up in scandal that Wren's wings barely registered to most. The school board did request that Wren conceal them out of concern of "distracting" other students, to which she begrudgingly complied. To Wren's astonishment, the Hellions accepted her with open arms, revealing that they were all mutants themselves. Wren took every opportunity to abstain from the Academy grounds and finish her education through the Professor's personal tutoring, though she kept tabs with the Hellions, both out of the Professor's request and Wren's own curiosity.

Integrating with the rest of the group, Wren quickly took it upon herself to become the leader, something I didn't object to at the time. She had a far more blunt and proactive personality than I did at the time, and her background made her far better at working crowds and being a public figure than I was. At the time, Wren was also the only one of us who was an open mutant, and to her credit she took jer newfound duties as a mutant activist very seriously. This is best exemplified when Wren swooped to Bobby's defense when his own powers briefly put him in legal trouble.

Where Wren did display hesitance was when we all set out to intervene at Santo Marco. Not because she objected to us intervening, but because she recognized how her usual tactics not suit such a sensitive situation. Over the course of that mission, our group dynamic was forced to shift and adapt, and by the end congealed into the X-Men that people would come to know later that year. Wren continued to be the face of the group, but tactical duties had effectively fallen upon me.

continue data? y/n]

[compo67]

For the kiss...TVC Sam/Dean, #31, please?

Thank you, dear!

#31. …after a small rejection.

Dean sits next to Sam on the couch. His knee has been bothering him all day and not a single Aleve, ibuprofen, or ice pack will touch the pain. He's been dependent on his cane all morning.

"Fuck this weather change," Dean grumbles, folding his arms over his chest. "I mean, would it kill Tom Skilling to predict decent weather for a change? Not this shit outside."

Sam, who was reading a book--borrowed from Mrs. Martinez, called Mexican Village--turns to Dean. "If you're sending him hate mail again, Dean..."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean waves Sam off. "He's lucky I ran out of stamps."

"He sure is."

"But you know... speaking of mail."

"I did not get it," Sam curtly replies. He picks up his book again. "It's your job."

Dean holds his arms out in front of him, motioning towards his knee. "How can I walk all the way down the driveway, out to the curb and back again, with the state I'm in? Have you no mercy? No sense of decency? I'm crippled."

Frowning, Sam looks at Dean. "That's not the word you're looking for. And walking's good exercise for your knee. You need to move around." He flips a page. "Anyway, you love chatting with Paul."

"Yeah, but Paul already passed by," Dean sighs, glancing out the window. "He put the red thingy down, see?"

"I see," Sam says, not bothering to look up from his book. "I'm still not going to go get it."

The front door opens without assistance and the mail floats in. Sam scoffs and grabs it from mid-air. "You get pissed at me when I do that with the laundry, Dean!"

"You don't have a bum knee, Sam!"

"I told you to put a heat pad on it and you went with an ice pack. I told you to do some of your PT exercises and you took a nap." Sam flips through the mail in a huff. "Then you wonder why your knee feels awful."

Dean rolls his eyes and bumps their shoulders together. "Just tell me it's here."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I've been waiting for it forever!"

"You submitted it three weeks ago. That's hardly forever." Sam opens up what looks to be the water bill, which makes no sense because Dean swears he checked the paperless option last time he paid it online. "Don't pout."

"I'm not pouting," Dean growls. "I'm sulking."

The pain in his knee increases. If he didn't know it'd make Sam lecture him more about PT this and PT that, then he'd say something. He clenches his jaw and breathes through the pain. It rained yesterday, the temperature dropped, and the barometric pressure plummeted. Today, it's cloudy, cold, and the weather can't decide if it wants to rain again or not.

"Stop," Sam sighs. "It's here." He hands Dean an envelope.

"Yes!" Dean perks up and takes the envelope. He rips into it in a hurry and unfolds the paper inside. "Dear Mr. Winchester..." He looks at Sam with a smug smile and smacks the paper with the back of his hand. "Mister Winchester, would you look at that."

Sam shakes his head, but he smiles too, so it's a win.

Dean clears his throat and continues reading. "Dear Mr. Winchester. Thank you for your submission to Good Housekeeping. We sincerely appreciate your entry to our Annual Reader Chili Contest. Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that your submission did not qualify to continue on to the next round. We hope you continue cooking and that you enter future Good Housekeeping contests. Thank you for being a valued member of the Good Housekeeping family."

Well.

Silence floods the living room.

Until Sam calms the waters by placing his left hand over Dean's right and giving it a squeeze.

"Those things are rigged," Sam says with confidence and a tinge of anger. "They always are."

Dean frowns and takes a deep breath. The letter crumples in on itself and falls to the floor, where Dean kicks at it with his good leg. He had hoped--really hoped--to make it past the first round with his recipe. His chili has been the subject of praise all around Chicagoland. People know him because of his chili. Even Mrs. Martinez asked for the recipe.

And yet, Good Housekeeping just kicked him in the knee.

"Dean?"

Quietly, Dean replies, "Yeah, Sam."

"I think you should cancel your subscription."

"Yeah."

"And write a letter to the editor."

"Uh-huh."

"You can even write a letter to Tom Skilling about it."

That--now that gets a laugh out of him. "Sammy, you're being ridiculous."

"Well, ridiculous is my specialty." Sam puts his arm around Dean's shoulders. "I love your chili."

"I know you do," Dean admits. "I just... you know."

"I know."

"Can we order pizza tonight?"

"We can definitely order pizza tonight. We'll get an extra large meat lover's."

"Say that again."

"Say what again?"

"Extra large meat lover."

Sam shoves at Dean and tugs on his hair. "See if I ever try to comfort you again! Hmph!"

The pain in his knee isn't so bad anymore. It's definitely still there, but it's fading into the background. The Aleve must finally be kicking in. Or it has something to do with sitting next to Sam. A boneless, buzzing sensation fills Dean's senses. Yeah. Definitely Sam.

"Fuck, that feels good."

"Yeah?" Sam plays with Dean's hair. "I'm glad. Look at me."

Dean turns to his right to look at Sam--Sam with the softest eyes Dean's seen in a hot minute.

"Fuck Good Housekeeping," Sam murmurs, with conviction. He dips in and kisses Dean. "They can keep their awful chili recipes."

The second kiss turns into a heated, almost desperate third kiss, which preps the scene for a fourth kiss, which introduces the fifth. Dean counts to kiss number twenty before Sam distracts him--hand on Dean's thigh and slowly climbing up.

None of the Good Housekeeping winners get to make out with Sam.

And that's plenty for Dean to start smiling again.

[rainbowmess823]

Hi here's more amnesia childhood friends au

----

It's been a week since Nancy last saw Robin, or anyone for that matter. She knocked on her door, called her, and waited for any sign of the lanky teen. Nancy asked Steve if he had maybe heard or seen Robin but nothing. She was right back where she started, and now Steve and the Party were worried too. Steve had even snuck into her house to knock on her door, but still no answer. It wasn't until Will had peeked into her window that they at least knew where she was. Then Steve immediately tapped on said window, but the only response he received was a book hitting the window with bare minium force. It was agreed that no one would try that lest the window actually breaks.

Nancy couldn't take it, she spent so many years without Robin and she finally got her then all of the sudden she's gone again. She doesn't even know where it went wrong or if anything had gone wrong. Maybe nothing had gone wrong, and Robin just wanted to take some time to herself. Maybe something had gone wrong, and Robin didn't want to worry. Maybe nothing had gone wrong, she just didn't want to see anyone. All these possibilities swirled around her head, but nothing seemed right or fit.

With a huff, Nancy had grabbed her keys and drove to Robin's. Come hell or high water, she was going to get Robin to explain what was going on. As soon as she got to the front door, however, she stopped. Was this really a good idea? Would this just make Robin retreat even more than she already has? Will this do more harm than good?

With every step, her confidence dwindled. Every inch closer to Robin's window, her resolve faded. It was now or never, Nancy.

She took a deep breath and then knocked on the window. What felt like years, in reality, was just a few seconds. Her eyes met the blue eyes she had missed so much, but something about those eyes made her uneasy. Her initial smile dimmed as soon as she clocked the old recognition in those eyes. Her heart leapt into her throat, and her stomach plummeted. She watched her favorite blue eyes stare at her in turmoil. Anger, sadness, fear, and distrust clouding those blue eyes. Did she remember?

----

Yea I'm still sad sooooo...yeaaaa hope you liked this and yes I am listening to In A Crowd of Thousands looool

[katblu42]

I posted 816 times in 2022

That's 242 more posts than 2021!

65 posts created (8%)

751 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gumnut-logic

@janetm74

@gaviiadastra

@soniabigcheese

@the-original-sineater

I tagged 147 of my posts in 2022

#thunderbirds fandom - 33 posts

#thunderbirds fanfiction - 28 posts

#thunderbirds are go - 22 posts

#virgil tracy - 17 posts

#thunderfam - 14 posts

#thunderbirds - 14 posts

#youtube - 13 posts

#australia - 9 posts

#ask game - 7 posts

#flashfictionfridayofficial - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 98 characters

#i am virtually placing my ice-cold fingers on the backs of each of your necks to cool you all down

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Leap of Faith

I know it's technically too late, but this is for @flashfictionfridayofficial this week. (Stupid work stealing all my time!) Very short.

Thunderbirds fandom Approx 328 words.

“John, we’re out of options, and out of time.” Virgil’s tone brooked no argument as he checked one final time that the boy’s safety line was securely attached to his own harness.  “Scott?”

“F. A. B.” was forced out from between Scott’s gritted teeth, as One’s engines strained in the background.

With one solid plant of booted feet on rockface, Virgil pushed off the side of the mountain and activated the quick release mechanism on the now useless winch cable.  He held tight to the child clinging to his chest as they plummeted.  Even through the helmet he could hear the grinding screech of metal on rock as the weight of the Pod violently shifted at the sudden loss of their weight.

He turned himself in the air and curled his body protectively around the boy in the vain hope he could shield him from impact if the worst were to happen.

Then the welcome scream of engines filled the air and they were no longer falling.  Caught by the cargo net stretched out in front of Thunderbird One’s nose cone.  Virgil adjusted his position, keeping one arm wrapped around the terrified little boy, and taking a firm hold of the cargo net with his other hand as his big brother slowed his ‘bird and began to ascend away from the jagged rocks of the canyon floor below them, heading for the safety of the plateau where he had needed to leave Thunderbird Two.

“Thanks, Scott,” Virgil panted out in sheer relief.

“Any time, little brother.”  The confidence in the commander’s voice was laced with a fair share of relief in return, and something else Virgil wasn’t sure he could identify.  “On second thought, maybe don’t try that one again in a hurry.  You’re right.  It’s not fun watching a self-sacrificing idiot brother make a move like that.”

“I knew you’d catch me, Scott,” barely above a whisper.  “I had faith.”

“Just like I have in you.”

37 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

#4

Not having a significant other at this time of year has had me pretty fed-up with all the pre-Valentine's Day advertising, but it got me thinking that I really want to show some love to all of you for being such a lovely community.

40 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

It's here, it's here, it's finally here!

My months of regularly trawling ebay for one of these finally paid off. Even had a last minute bidding war to win it in the end!

And the best bit . . .

See the full post

47 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#2

Like Your Father

For @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt #176

With a prompt like this, how can it be anyone but Scott Tracy?

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Word Count: approx 886

He’d been hearing those words practically all his life.  Almost always in a positive light.  When he was little it was invariably a reference to his smile or his eyes – or Grandma commenting on his tendency to want to get everywhere fast, or his infatuation with all things flight related.

As he grew he found himself wanting to emulate his father in so many ways. So, by the time circumstances unexpectedly thrust him into Dad’s shoes as a young man the comparisons were practically inevitable.

In Scott’s role as CEO of Tracy Industries it was so common for people to comment on the likeness that with every face-to-face meeting it was now expected.  Well, at least from board members, executives, competitors, clients and prospective collaborators who were old enough to have met the great Jeff Tracy in person. 

Sometimes the words went unspoken, but the way a person’s eyes would linger on Scott a moment longer than strictly comfortable while shaking hands said it anyway.

“You’re so much like your father.”

Most of the time it made Scott proud.  After all, it’s what he strived for – the result of the inner mantra that kept him asking himself “What would Dad do?” in any situation.  He wanted to be like Dad, to make him proud, to live up to the legacy.  And there was an undercurrent of fear there at times that he would never be able to live up to that.  So, hearing people remind him that yes, he was indeed a lot like his father was a reassuring comfort.

Usually.

Today’s meeting had started out ordinarily enough.  He and Virgil were in New York to meet with Nathan Twiner in order to discuss his proposal for a project he thought Tracy Industries should support.  The eager and over-confident inventor had given Scott that look as introductions were made.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your father once,” the greasy-haired, middle-aged man commented with a toothy smile and a firm handshake.  “He was a great man.  Such an inspiration.”

“Yes, he was.”  Scott returned the smile and deftly resisted the twist the older man tried to enact to literally get the upper hand grip in the shake.

From there it had all gone downhill.  Twiner’s idea was all hype and very little substance.  Virgil had politely pointed out a number of the many flaws he’d spotted in the designs and blueprints.  Scott himself could see some of them, and both Tracys had expressed their safety concerns when Twiner had tried to suggest the ways in which experimentation would find the solutions for any shortcomings in the design. 

But the main issue Scott had with Twiner’s idea was the fact that the end product would have no real benefit to society at large.  It was a grand idea which would need a great deal of time and money poured into it just to make it viable.  Scott agreed with Twiner that the finished product would likely sell, but Tracy Industries were not in the business of making things that amounted to little more than big toys for rich grown-ups to waste their wealth on.

Finally getting the message that Scott and Virgil were showing him and his idea the door, Twiner’s thin veil of friendly familiarity was abandoned.  He stood, he scowled down on Scott who remained seated across the table.

“This place has obviously gone to the dogs since the demise of the Great Jeff Tracy.  He was a man who knew a profitable idea when he saw one.  An adventurous man who wasn’t afraid to take risks.”

Virgil may have sensed what was coming.  A subtle shift in his position beside Scott brought his knee to rest against his big brother’s thigh beneath the table.  A small, simple gesture that served as a reminder that Scott was not alone here, and to keep calm.  Although Scott was managing okay without the gesture, he was very glad of it when Twiner delivered his parting shot.

“You are nothing like your father, and he’d be greatly disappointed in you.”

Scott rose slowly to his feet, keeping his voice steady and his fingertips lightly on the table.

“My father, in life and in business dealings, knew how to weigh up the risks and benefits of any situation he was faced with.  He took calculated risks, but his goal was always to help people, and to improve the world we live in.  Everything I know about running this business I learned from him, and thus far it has served me and Tracy Industries very well.” 

Scott’s glare was deployed with the desired effect, as Twiner’s self-assuredness seemed to melt away and he took an involuntary step back.

“Thank you for your time, Mr Twiner,” Virgil said pointedly as he rose from the table and strode over to open the door.

“You’ll regret this,” Twiner mumbled as he left.

Virgil closed the door again and turned back to his big brother in time to see him sag back into his seat.

“Scott?”

“I’m okay, Virgil.  I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to say it.”

Virgil waited a moment, knowing that while Twiner’s words had hurt, his big brother would be able to shake this off. “So, you don’t think he’ll take his idea to Fischler?”

47 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I need you all to see this amazing artwork @godsliltippy did for me!! It's absolutely beautiful and has such wonderful details in it! And I totally didn't expect when I commissioned it that it would be completed so quickly!

Cannot stress enough how much I absolutely love it! Thank you Tippy!!!!

The song he's playing/singing is Now I've Seen You from the musical Honk!

51 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[baba-fett]

Honestly I’m so mad at all these last 3 years took from me. Before Covid, I was set to hit my mid 20s on a roll. I left my shitty job for one at a dream company, and I was getting hours where I was going to have free time to really get into dating. I would go out with friends once a week to fun bars, and just had one of those almost stereotypical lives of the kid from the Midwest who makes it in la (I even went to award shows!!!)

Now 3 years later, all my friends who I used to go out with after coupled up or left LA. I have close friends, but some of them aren’t the bar scene people. And it’s fucking expensive now. Add on to that my Covid weight gain has plummeted my self confidence so going out even risks spurring mental breakdowns now because I know I won’t get hit on like I was when I was younger and hot. I can’t believe I lost what was supposed to be the prime years of my life

[novumtimes]

Britain overtakes France to become Europes largest stock market | Personal Finance | Finance

Britain has re-taken the crown of being home to Europe’s biggest stock market after political turmoil in France knocked billions of euros off the market in a matter of days. Paris has ruled the roost for past 18 months after knocking London from the top spot, but after President Macron announced a shock snap election the top index in France has been plummeting. In March last year, the market cap in Paris was ahead of London by nearly £200 billion, but the Gallic dominance has proved to be short-lived with the City once again taking the lead. According to data compiled by Bloomberg, stocks in the country are now collectively worth about 3.13 trillion US dollars (£2.47 trillion), fractionally behind the UK’s collective 3.18 trillion US dollars (£2.51 trillion). Paris’s top index, the CAC 40, shed more than six percent of its value last week in one of the worst weeks of trading for more than two decades. President Emmanuel Macron dissolved France’s National Assembly, parliament’s lower house, in a shock response to a humbling defeat by the far-right in European elections on June 9. Elections with two rounds of voting will now take place on June 30 and July 7, a few weeks before the Paris Olympics. A group of analysts at Deutsche Bank said the sell-off in French markets was its largest weekly decline since March 2022 and, other than during the early Covid period, “you would have to go back to the aftermath of 9/11 in 2001 to see such extremes”. The analysts said: “In turn, this more than wiped out all its gains year-to-date, leaving the index down 0.53% on the year. “Suffice to say that this uncertainty will be with us until at least the second round of the election on July 7 and likely beyond,” Deutsche Bank’s analysts predicted. “The polls haven’t narrowed in Macron’s favour in the first week of the campaign with the far-right and left outpacing the president’s centrist party.” Intense political in-fighting among parties in France has stoked concerns about what the country’s future holds, with it facing snap parliamentary elections at the end of the month which could see President Emmanuel Macron pushed out. Meanwhile, London’s FTSE 100 has had a strong 2024 so far, hitting new all-time highs thanks to improved investor confidence. Some analysts said that, in contrast to France, the UK is facing less uncertainty over its forthcoming General Election, which has helped calm the financial markets. Opinion polls continue to show Sir Keir Starmer’s Labour Party taking the lead and Prime Minister Rishi Sunak’s Conservatives suffering a defeat. Susannah Streeter, head of money and markets for Hargreaves Lansdown, said: “In the UK, comments by shadow chancellor Rachel Reeves will also buoy hopes that there could be slightly closer trade ties between the UK and the EU under a Labour administration and less of a focus on regulatory divergence. “Labour says it’s focused on stimulating long-term growth to revive the sluggish economy.” Source link via The Novum Times

[warningsine]

BUENOS AIRES, Argentina (AP) — Argentina’s monthly inflation rate eased sharply to a single-digit rate in April for the first time in half a year, data released Tuesday showed, a closely watched indicator that bolsters President Javier Milei’s severe austerity program aimed at fixing the country’s troubled economy.

Prices rose at a rate of 8.8% last month, the Argentine government statistics agency reported, down from a monthly rate of 11% in March and well below a peak of 25% last December, when Milei became president with a mission to combat Argentina’s dizzying inflation, among the highest in the world.

“Inflation is being pulverized,” Manuel Adorni, the presidential spokesperson, posted on social media platform X after the announcement. “Its death certificate is being signed.”

Although praised by the International Monetary Fund and cheered by market watchers, Milei’s cost-cutting and deregulation campaign has, at least in the short term, squeezed families whose money has plummeted in value while the cost of nearly everything has skyrocketed. Annual inflation, the statistics agency reported Tuesday, climbed slightly to 289.4%.

“People are in pain,” said 23-year-old Augustin Perez, a supermarket worker in the suburbs of Buenos Aires who said his rent had soared by 90% since Milei deregulated the real estate market and his electricity bill had nearly tripled since the government slashed subsidies. “They say things are getting better, but how? I don’t understand.”

Milei’s social media feed in recent weeks has become a stream of good economic news: Argentine bonds posting some of the best gains among emerging markets, officials celebrating its first quarterly surplus since 2008 and the IMF announcing Monday it would release another $800 million loan — a symbolic vote of confidence in Milei’s overhaul.

“The important thing is to score goals now,” Milei said at an event Tuesday honoring former President Carlos Menem, a divisive figure whose success driving hyperinflation down to single digits through free-market policies Milei repeatedly references. “We are beating inflation.”

Even so, some experts warn that falling inflation isn’t necessarily an economic victory — rather the symptom of a painful recession. The IMF expects Argentina’s gross domestic product to shrink by 2.8% this year.

“You’ve had a massive collapse in private spending, which explains why consumption has dropped dramatically and why inflation is also falling,” said Monica de Bolle, a senior fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics who studies emerging markets. “People are worse off than they were before. That leads them to spend less.”

Signs of an economic slowdown are everywhere in Buenos Aires — the lines snaking outside discounted groceries, the empty seats in the city’s typically booming restaurants, the growing strikes and protests.

At an open-air market in the capital’s Liniers neighborhood, Lidia Pacheco makes a beeline for the garbage dump. Several times a week, the 45-year-old mother of four rummages through the pungent pile to salvage the tomatoes with the least mold.

“This place saves me,” Pacheco said. Sky-high prices have forced her to stick to worn-out clothes and shoes and change her diet to the point of giving up yerba mate, Argentina’s ubiquitous national drink brewed from bitter leaves. “Whatever I earn from selling clothes goes to eating,” she said.

Argentina’s retail sales in the first quarter of 2024 fell nearly 20% compared to the year before, a clip comparable to that of the 2020 pandemic lockdowns. The consumption of beef — an Argentine classic — dropped to its lowest level in three decades this quarter, the government reported, prompting panicked editorials about a crisis in Argentina’s national psyche.

“Now I buy pork and chicken instead,” said Leonardo Buono, 51-year-old hospital worker. “It’s an intense shock, this economic adjustment.”

Milei, a self-proclaimed “anarcho-capitalist” and former TV personality, warned his policies would hurt at first.

He campaigned brandishing a chainsaw to symbolize all the cutting he would do to Argentina’s bloated state, a dramatic change from successive left-leaning Peronist governments that ran vast budget deficits financed by printing money.

Promising the pain would pay off, he slashed spending on everything from construction and cultural centers to education and energy subsidies, from soup kitchens and social programs to pensions and public companies. He has also devalued the Argentine peso by 54%, helping close the chasm between the peso’s official and black-market exchange rates but also fueling inflation.

Inflation in the first four months of 2024 surged by 65%, the government statistics agency reported Tuesday. Prices in shops and restaurants have reached levels similar to those in the U.S. and Europe.

But Argentine wages have remained stagnant or declined, with the monthly minimum wage for regulated workers just $264 as of this month, with workers in the informal economy often paid less.

Today that sum can buy scarcely more than a few nice meals at Don Julio, a famous Buenos Aires steakhouse. Nearly 60% of the country’s 46 million people now live in poverty, a 20-year high, according to a study in January by Argentina’s Catholic University.

Even as discontent appears to rise, the president’s approval ratings have remained high, around 50%, according to a survey this month by Argentine consulting firm Circuitos — possibly a result of Milei’s success blaming his predecessors for the crisis.

[inkovsky]

The Hang Seng Index rose over 100 points in the early morning and then fell by nearly 100 points. However, it found support when it fell to 16,249 points. It rebounded in the afternoon and closed at 16,334 points, down 11 points or 0.07%; the Technology Index closed at 3,705 points. , down 14 points or 0.38%. The main board's total daily turnover was HK$88.3 billion.

Hong Kong stocks fell below a one-year low this week, with the Hang Seng Index falling 495 points, or 2.94%, for the week; the HS Tech index fell 125 points, or 3.26%.

Last week, the HSI show big black candlestick and fell below 16,800, setting a new low this year. Most of the large rising gap (16,138 to 16,829) in November last year has been replenished. In the last two trading days of last week, "hammer head" and "spinning top" appeared at the low level. ”, and is seriously oversold, which is favorable for a short-term rebound, but the 10-DMA (16,786) is expected to have considerable resistance. The mid-line is still bearish. If it falls below the psychological mark of 16,000 points, the recent horizontal trend zone, the mid-line decline target is the return to the 97-handover level (15,196), which may once again test last year's low of 14,597 points, which means that the Hong Kong stock market has regained its price-to-earnings ratio of 7.3 times. Moody's has lowered the outlook for Hong Kong's rating, and many popular stocks have also plummeted, which will definitely affect the investment sentiment in Hong Kong stocks.

The decline in the US dollar exchange rate further intensified, with the US dollar exchange rate index falling as low as 102.47 last Friday, hitting a more than three-month low. The central parity rate of the RMB was reported at 7.1031 per US dollar, rising for two consecutive years and reaching the highest level in the past six months since June 6 this year. The yen is also strong, and the exchange rate may rise above 130. If the Bank of Japan implements monetary tightening policy more quickly and strongly, the yen may rise to the 120 level.

European stock markets performed well, with British, French and German stocks closing up 0.54%, 1.32% and 0.78% respectively.

The number of non-agricultural jobs in the United States increased by 199,000 in November, which was better than the expected 180,000; the unemployment rate was 3.7%, which was also better than the expected 3.9%. The data was surprising. At the same time, the latest consumer inflation expectations dropped sharply, strengthening the market's confidence in the economy. Confidence in a soft landing reduces market expectations for interest rate cuts. U.S. stocks had mixed performances on Friday, with the Dow Jones Industrial Average rising 178 points after opening 32 points lower and reaching a high of 36,296 points; the S&P 500 rose 0.52%, hitting 4,609 points; the Nasdaq turned around and rose as much as 0.54%.

At the close of trading in New York, the Dow's gain shrank to 130 points, or 0.36%, to 36,247 points; the S&P 500 jumped 18 points, or 0.41%, to 4,604 points, with a cumulative gain of 19.9% so far this year, rising to its highest level since March last year; the Nasdaq rose 63 points points or 0.45%, reported at 14,403 points.

[hardynwa]

Indian army digs by hand to free 41 trapped tunnel workers

Indian military engineers were preparing to dig by hand Monday to reach 41 workers trapped in a collapsed road tunnel for 16 days, a rescue operation hit by repeated setbacks. Soldiers plan to use a so-called “rat-hole mining” technique, digging by hand to clear the rocks and rubble over the remaining nine metres (29 feet), with temperatures plummeting in the remote mountain location in the Himalayan state of Uttarakhand. Last week, engineers working to drive a metal pipe horizontally through 57 metres (187 feet) of rock and concrete ran into metal girders and construction vehicles buried in the earth, snapping a giant earth-boring auger machine. “The broken parts of the auger (drilling) machine stuck inside the tunnel have been removed,” senior local civil servant Abhishek Ruhela told AFP on Monday, after a specialised superheated plasma cutter was brought in to clear the metal. “Preparations are being made to start manual drilling work,” he added. “Indian Army engineering battalion personnel, along with other rescue officers, are preparing to do rat-hole mining”. Engineers in the bitterly cold conditions will use manual drills to clear the route, a tough task in the narrow pipe, just wide enough for a man to crawl through. Tunnel expert Chris Cooper, who is advising the rescue teams, said he was optimistic the soldiers will be able to dig through. “It depends on how the ground behaves,” he told reporters, saying they may yet have to cut through heavy-duty girders that had been meant to hold the collapsed roof up. “We are confident that we can overcome it”. – ‘Challenging’ – In a separate effort, vertical drilling has reached more than a quarter of the 89 metres down to the men, a risky route in an area that has already suffered a collapse. A drilling machine was brought up to the forested hill above the tunnel on a specially-constructed track. “Vertical drilling is going on at a fast pace,” with teams having reached 19 metres (63 feet) by late Sunday, said Mahmood Ahmed, a top official in the national roads ministry. Digging, blasting and drilling have also begun from the far side of the road tunnel, a much longer third route estimated to be around 480 metres. The 41 construction workers have been trapped in the Silkyara road tunnel since November 12. Efforts have been painfully slow, complicated by falling debris and repeated breakdowns of drilling machines. Hopes that the team was on the verge of a breakthrough on Wednesday were dashed, with a government statement warning of the “challenging Himalayan terrain”. For the distraught relatives of the trapped men, it has been an ordeal without an imminent end in sight. But Uttarakhand chief minister Pushkar Singh Dhami vowed Monday that all the men would be rescued. “Do not worry, all the labourers will be taken out safely,” he said on X, formerly Twitter. The workers were seen alive for the first time on Tuesday, peering into the lens of an endoscopic camera sent by rescuers down a thin pipe through which air, food, water and electricity are being delivered. Though trapped, they have plenty of space in the tunnel, with the area inside 8.5 metres high and stretching about two kilometres in length. Read the full article