#traffic management failure

[townpostin]

Traffic Nightmare Grips Mango Bridge Area for Over 5 Hours

Ambulances trapped, students delayed as gridlock paralyzes key routes in Jamshedpur Severe congestion in Jamshedpur’s Mango Bridge area exposes critical flaws in local traffic management systems. JAMSHEDPUR – The Mango Bridge area of Jamshedpur was paralyzed by an enormous traffic jam on Thursday, which caused widespread disruption and lasted from 10:30 AM to 6 PM. The congestion had an impact on…

[slyandthefamilybook]

okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 02.

wednesday

ꕥ part 01. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~3.5k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

“Eek, this is like a group vacation.” Her quick, light claps accompanied Garcia’s excited squeal. Her bright, energetic demeanour seemed to lift everyone’s mood, which was below average that early afternoon on a cloudy Wednesday. The reason was mostly that they were all tired from the mission on the previous day. Also, the fact that a one-and-a-half-day road trip was ahead of them didn’t really help either.

As soon as they clocked in to work that day, Hotchner greeted them with the rather unfortunate news that in order to avoid any suspicion, they’d have to travel on the road and not with the private jet, which meant a roughly 35-hour-long drive. The Bureau was kind enough to provide the team with a minibus and three assigned FBI agents as drivers so they wouldn’t have to take turns behind the wheel.

“Did Morgan manage to kick down fewer doors in the previous month or what?” you asked jokingly as you watched the biscuit-coloured vehicle roll up to the team. The Bureau was constantly up in your asses with the monthly budget and how expensive it was sometimes to fund the unit. They were so stingy that it became a joking material between you.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” rolled his warm, chocolate brown eyes the mentioned man as he lightly punched your shoulder.

The truth is this wasn’t out of generosity. It was more of a tactical investment, recommended by the anti-trafficking unit. If it were up to the Bureau, you’d be crammed up in those notorious black SUVs for almost two days straight. But the dark vehicles became so known for belonging to law enforcement personnel that if the host or some guests from the auction saw them, the BAU would immediately get noticed and the mission would be a failure.

“So, Hotch” spoke Reid not so far from you who was strangely silent this morning. “We are going to spend the night at some hotel, I assume.”

“Yes. This way we will arrive at Flathead Lake either tomorrow night or Friday morning, depending on the traffic.” nodded your boss. He informed you that the briefing will take place on the bus since the anti-trafficking unit - who invited the team to help with the case – gathered some new information about the owner of the lakeside mansion where the auction will take place. While you infiltrated yesterday’s gala, they also put together a somewhat solid plan. Luckily, the BAU didn’t have to do everything all by themselves, they got joined up with competent people.

You quickly ran your gaze through the whole team. There was Hotchner, Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia, Reid and of course, you. An even number of people. Meaning everyone had to share rooms with someone. You were more than sure that the “dads” – as in Aaron and David – would share one, just like Emily and Jennifer. There wasn’t any question about it. Now came the bigger problem, which was the Morgan-Garcia duo. If they were to share a room, it would only leave you with the doctor. Oh God no. You definitely can’t let that happen.

The minibus was the smallest possible one out there with 12 seats maximum, plus the seat of the chauffeur. This looked worse and worse for you by the minute. Of the three drivers, one was obviously behind the wheel, and the other two were occupying 2-2 front-row seats so they could rest properly. Leaving exactly eight seats for the team, so nobody had the opportunity to sit alone.

“So, Pen…” you hugged the woman next to you with one of your arms and had a Cheshire cat kind of smile on your face.

“Absolutely not” objected Derek, shaking his head before the flamboyant blonde diva could even take a breath. “There is no chance in hell that I’d sit next to Reid for around 40 hours. Babygirl is with me, so don’t even try. And I’m also sharing a room with her.”

“But…”

“Get your asses moving, guys” called for you already from the bus Emily. The rest of the team was waiting for only the three of you. As you placed your foot on the thin steps of the light-coloured vehicle, you silently prayed that someone, out of pure coincidence, decided to sit next to Dr Pain-in-the-ass Reid. The cleanly designed door of the modern bus silently shut behind you while you quickly scanned the insides. Since you were the last to get on board, there was only one unoccupied seat in the third window row… Next to your unpleasant co-worker. Of course, where else? At this point, you felt like God was testing you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him, but there was always some underlying tension between you, and you felt like you were constantly on edge around him. The subtle rivalry was exciting, of course. You were a very competitive person by nature. But still, you felt like you were under a microscope, getting dissected by his curious, watchful eyes each and every time you were in the same place. You weren’t friends, not even close to that, in your opinion. Simply co-workers who were a bit too similar in some ways and exhaustingly different in others.

Reid was sitting in the aisle seat. His thumbs played with the edge of the case folder, which was on his lap while he leaned back in his seat with closed eyes. He tried to shut out the lively group for a moment and get 8 hours of sleep done in 2 minutes.

“Hey…” you were the one who pulled him out of his somewhat meditative state as you awkwardly stood next to him. “Could you let me in?” you pointed at the empty seat.

For a moment, he didn’t really react, just looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. He was slightly taken aback. Of course, there was a high possibility of you two having to sit next to each other. However, he thought that due to the complicated relationship that you had – which oftentimes was the cause of heated arguments -, someone would do the whole team a favour and take the place next to him. But no. Everyone seemed to stick with whom they were the closest with. This was reasonable, given that suffering through 1 and a half days of travelling would be even worse if you’re by the side of someone you aren’t that close with.

In a sense, the BAU was like a family, yes. During their years of work, they crossed the river Styx and came back countless times. They’ve seen Hell unleashed. They’ve experienced how cruel and disgusting human nature can be. But they did it together. And this created an unbreakable bond between them. There was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.

Now, sitting in one place for around 40 hours crammed up in a small space is an entirely different question. Everyone gets bored, grumpy and annoyed easily. It’s safer to stick with the person you’re especially comfortable with, even amongst them.

Reid quickly collected his thoughts. He wasn’t feeling like he was in his element, and it bothered him. He couldn’t lose against you. Not even in a non-existent competition about which one of you is handling this cooler.

“Be my guest,” he smirked but didn’t move an inch.

“Are you serious right now?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest as you looked him in the eyes with a challenging spark in your irises. The bus slowly moved under you, making you stumble a bit. His smirk turned into a grin as he slid down in his seat, making himself more comfortable.

“Everyone, I’d like to start the briefing,” you hear Hotch’s voice through the bus’s speaker since he used the microphone at the front. They were waiting for you to sit down finally.

“I won’t hesitate to step and walk all over you,” you tried to sound as serious as possible, hoping that by asserting your dominance, he’d stand up and let you in.

“Kinky” came the unserious comment from JJ who was in one of the backseats, causing the more unserious half of the team to chuckle.

“Guys, please,” your boss tried to take control of the situation while the little asshole next to you was just smiling smugly. This was your last straw. You took a deep breath and lifted your left leg over his lap, so your back was facing him. This situation was so embarrassing that you couldn’t possibly face him and remain collected.

Since the trunk was placed there, the ceiling above the seats was low, you had to kind of sit down to be able to squeeze yourself in. So, for a few excruciating moments, you were in his lap.

“I swear to fucking God one of us won’t get off of here alive, and it won’t be me” you murmured, your voice was filled with anger as you finally wiggled your way through the obstacle, being a literal grown-ass man. You didn’t even notice that the sound of his irritating chuckle was absent. He severely miscalculated things with this stunt that he pulled. You were so close to him. So damn close. He could smell the pleasant mix of your soft, sweet perfume and your shampoo lingering in the air. It wasn’t too strong, nothing over the top. You mostly used things that had natural scents, either from flowers or fruits. Things that smelled like candy, or anything overly artificial usually gave you a headache so you tended to avoid those. He probably wouldn't have noticed it if you weren’t that close. But now, as the gentle aroma filled his nose, it became impossible not to think about it. Also, the fact that he could’ve just reached his hands out and grabbed your hips when you sat down for a flickering moment on his thighs was an image he was hardly able to ignore.

But alas, you finally got to your seat and Hotch was able to start going through the developments of the case with the assistance of the one and only Penelope Garcia. “I’m sorry to say this, my lovelies, but the mansion is equipped with the best security system anyone could ever dream of. On top of that, the private guards hired are employees of the most elite and most efficient security agency worldwide. I don’t think it’d be possible for you to sneak in,” she said while she sent files and pictures to your tablets. “Being wired is also risky. Plus, there is the problem of no weapons, no vests, no nothing.”

“So, we're just going to raw dog this mission the way God intended?” you clicked your tongue as you said the rhetorical question mostly to yourself, causing Derek, who was sitting behind you, to snort.

“Well, one of us is definitely going in ra…” Emily’s sly smile matched her unserious tone perfectly. You could envision a crystal-clear picture of her face with a playful glimmer in her eyes. Not even a day went by since the undercover mission with your boss, so it was obvious none of them were going to let the topic go.

“Prentiss.” Hotchner’s deep, warning grunt came from the front seats as firm advice for your best friend to think carefully about whether she’d like to continue her sentence or not. You let out an awkward laugh as you pressed your forehead to the back of the seat in front of you. When the others quieted down, your boss continued. “Luckily, the anti-trafficking unit was able to get information about the staff working on the event. Morgan, Reid. You and a few agents from the other unit are matching their descriptions. They were all pursuable to give their shifts over to us. Garcia will send you detailed information about them, so you’ll be able to blend in as much as possible.”

This seemed logical so far. It was clear as day that you couldn’t send in Emily, JJ or Rossi since they were more or less public figures. Rossi was a well-respected author, JJ was the liaison of the team who later became a full-fledged agent, and Emily was known for her international contacts.

“We know that there are even politicians and CEOs joining the event. This will be an awfully low-risk crowd in one place at the same time. Wouldn’t they be more throughout with the workers too?” shook his head Spencer making his light brown wavy locks bounce slightly. He let his hair grow longer, giving his characteristic face a perfect frame. It took some time to collect himself, to tame the rushing thoughts that were so out of character for him. He honestly didn’t understand his reaction. Why did he freeze at the smell of you? Why did those sharp images appear in his mind out of the blue? What the hell was wrong with him?

Countless thoughts occupied his outstanding brain, making him somewhat irritated. Ever since they started working on the case, he felt like every single factor was against them. With politics involved, it was almost impossible to gain the upper hand, moreover, the team was at a bigger risk than usual. And now this too?

“Well, I’m sure the host will be. But the other rich assholes don’t give a fuck about anyone lower than them, let’s be honest. Moreover, I could also imagine that the staff is the responsibility of an employee of the host, not even the host himself.” you didn’t even realize that you went against his judgement, it came so naturally, almost as an instinct. But you opposed him, again. He turned his head towards you, a stern, stoic expression on his face, one of his eyebrows slightly raised.

By this time, your head was also in the game. You quickly collected yourself after the embarrassing moment with Reid and your teammates' comments. The latter one wouldn’t have bothered you, but since you were already awkward and your face was all hot and red, the girls’ remarks were like gasoline to the fire. But you couldn’t let this bother you for a long time. You worked too hard to get to where you are right now. You loved your job and were great at it. You loved the team too, more than anything. That bastard next to you couldn’t possibly gain the upper hand so easily over you.

“Are all the victims kept in the mansion?” took over the word Rossi. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he stared at the documents on the flat electronic device in his hands.

“According to the anti-trafficking unit’s information, over the years, Jonathan Grace, our host this weekend, brought most of the land around the northern area of Flathead Lake through different, hardly traceable accounts and he has properties all around the area. There is a big chance that the victims are held captive in all locations, making it harder for them to unite and attempt escaping.”

This was making things even harder. Now, there was a huge possibility of the victims not even being at the same place at the same time, making rescuing them in one organised attempt almost impossible.

“There are an awful lot of things that could go sideways,” Derek’s sigh was filled with worry and annoyance. He hated nothing more than when politics got in their way. In humanity’s way. This whole thing was bullshit. Proceeding with caution when hundreds of people were forcefully stripped of their freedom, their free will, and their lives, just because politics made this case a delicate one?! It almost seemed as if the actual victims hardly mattered, the only important thing was not to get damaged by an influential asshole. Of course, he knew that it wasn’t the situation with the team, but the outside looked very much like it. If it was up to him, he would’ve raided all of Grace’s properties with a bunch of SWAT members and got everyone out immediately. But he also knew that the moment the traffickers smelled something fishy, they’d disappear without a trace and reorganise somewhere else, continuing their activities, destroying people’s lives while not even being on the radar anymore. He would’ve ruined months, even years of hard work for the AT unit. Not to talk about any future victims he wouldn’t be able to save. So, logically speaking, he understood perfectly why they were handling everything so carefully and second-guessing each of their ideas, but it still infuriated him.

“Will there be units at every building Grace owns?” you asked. You habitually turned over and over the single ring on your ring finger as a subtle method of stimming. You were anxious because of the case. It was impossible not to be.

“Obviously,” came the kind of condescending reaction from, you guessed it right, Reid. “That was kind of a dumb question, Y/N, don’t you think?” he was facing you, his head slightly tilted downwards to look you in the eyes, since he was significantly taller even while sitting. A small smile was plastered on his face, making your blood boil even more. You weren’t even on the road for half an hour and already wanted to choke him to death.

“Yeah, I decided to take one for the team and ask the stupid question early on so you could correct me and get your daily bitching done,” you nodded your tone full of fake sympathy.

“Is it really daily bitching or you’re just constantly making mistakes?” he clapped back immediately while wearing a passive-aggressive smile on his patronising, punchable face.

“Ah, here we go again,” came Morgan’s grunt from behind you.

“Last time I checked I had more solved cases than you, thanks to my so-called mistakes.”

Ah, yes. Solved cases. Obviously, none of the successful ones were thanks to a singular person, everything you do is a team effort. However, since both of you were competitive as hell, you had this unsaid game going on between the two of you. Whoever’s leads or ideas proved the most useful during an investigation could take that case as their own.

“Kids.” This time the eldest was the one whose warning voice caused you to stop.

×××

The next four or five hours went by quietly. After Rossi put an end to your bickering, both of you stayed in line. We could even say, you acted as normal, reasonable adults. The briefing went on for an hour more but after that, everyone became silent and absolved in the files.

The time for the first toilet break came when the bus parked at a resting stop. You pulled the earphones out of your ears and stretched in your seat. As you arched your back, the salmon-coloured button-up shirt that you were wearing tightened a bit around your upper body, perfectly outlining your otherwise hidden curves. Your movements weren’t provocative, not even in the slightest. It’s just Spencer who’s been finding himself in these weird scenarios where he suddenly noticed everything about you.

Of course, you were pretty, he was very well aware of this fact from day one. But now it seemed like this piece of information was actively in his mind for some unknown reason.

“Will you let me out or do I have to crawl over you again?” you turned with your upper body towards him and leaned a bit closer. The others were in the middle of leaving the bus, so nobody gave much attention to you, luckily.

He also leaned towards you, and swallowed his saliva before answering, making his Adam’s apple quickly rise and fall. “Whichever one you’d prefer more.”

“Move your ass then,” you urged him as you looked directly into his pretty, light brown eyes that had hints of green in them, seemingly unaffected by what he said. He kept eye contact while his pupils slightly dilated but didn’t say a thing. For a quick, unnoticeable moment his brows got furrowed and his jaw tightened but this expression disappeared as soon as it came. Without a word, Spencer stood up and left the vehicle with quick-paced steps. He felt like even the air got tighter around them in the small space. Must be the fault of the tiny bus.

thank you so much for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! divider from @cafekitsune

[k-germsworld]

Fantasy Turns Reality

Umji x M! Reader

3.1k words

I am always the manager of an idol. I have always been very diligent in helping my idol with their schedule. Although I was very responsible, I was always asked by the company to manage other idols. So I rarely had the opportunity to follow an idol to the end. After several transfers, I came to a new small company. I was asked to lead an idol group called Viviz. Just when I thought it would be the same as always, this time it was very different. When I first met Viviz, I was amazed by their looks. They were like angels. And they treated me like a friend. So I felt different. 

The period I took over happened to be Viviz's world tour, so I had to help them record their dance practice. Whenever I helped them record, my eyes were always fixed on Umji. Her dance attracted me deeply. Some of Viviz's dances were sexy, so when Umji was dancing, her skilled seductive expression and sexy dance made me unconsciously erect. Although I tried my best to cover it up, as a professional manager, getting erected in front of idols was a failure. 

Soon, their first concert in Korea started. Their concert costumes all amazed me. Their voluptuous bodies in these costumes made me so horny for the first time. Eunha, Sinb and Umji's costumes all showed off their body advantages. Umji's body in that costume really made me erect every time I saw it. Although it was not right, it was really hard to resist.

After the two-hour concert, I escorted them back to the dormitory before returning to my own. After taking a shower, I found myself lying on the bed and thinking about Umji's figure. My hand restlessly held my cock, which was hard because of thinking about Umji, and began to stroke it slowly. I kept thinking about how Umji shook her body during the concert and her hot boob dance during Untie. All these sexual fantasies made me masturbate faster and faster. I came while moaning Umji's name. I came so much that my hands were covered with my own semen. After I came, I immediately felt very regretful. This was the first time I fantasized about my idol and masturbated to her, but it felt very good. 

There are only zero and infinite times to fantasize about idols. Ever since I started fantasizing about Umji, I can't stop. During the Viviz concert, I got an erection every time I watched Viviz perform. I couldn't help myself watching their performance, so I had to sneak to the bathroom to relieve my erection. When I entered the bathroom, I found no one there so I moaned Umji's name loudly while I was masturbating. Masturbating in the public toilet made me feel very excited and I moaned Umji's name loudly. The feeling made me nervous and excited, so I cum a lot of semen in a few strokes. After cleaning up, I went back to watch their performance. As a manager, I am so responsible in front of Viviz, but behind , I am the one who masturbates to their maknae.

After their concert in Korea, they had some free time before going on their world tour but sometimes they have personal schedules so I still have to run around. One day, Umji had a personal schedule so I had to drive her to the event. She was sitting in the passenger seat, and my eyes would occasionally glance at her smooth thighs. Although it was just a glance at her thighs, it also made me very excited. We arrived at the venue soon. This also relieved my blood-filled cock. The event went smoothly, so Umji was able to leave the venue early. On the way back, I would also unintentionally glance at her thighs.

When I stopped at the traffic light, Umji suddenly bent down to take something from her bag. Umji was wearing loose clothes, so when she bent down, I could see her perky tits. I then realized that she was not wearing a bra. I could even see her nipples. "Oppa, do you really enjoy looking at my bare tits?" Hearing this brought me back to my senses but it was too late because Umji had already caught me peeking at her. I didn't respond to her. She continued to ask. "Which part of my body do you think is the most beautiful?" I continued to remain silent. "I know you were watching me the whole time. And I know what you did to me in private." I couldn't remain silent anymore. "I didn't mean to do this, but..." I couldn't think of a better excuse to get out of this. So I couldn't say it. “But what?” She motioned me to continue saying it.  

She saw that I didn't answer for a long time, so she leaned close to my ear and whispered to me. "I know you've always had me as the object of your sexual fantasies. Did you feel good moaning my name and masturbating in the backstage toilet?” It turns out that Umji knew that I fantasized about her and masturbated. I didn't dare answer any of her questions. I was afraid that once the company got to know about this, I would no longer be able to survive in this industry. She continued to whisper in my ear, "What do you think of me in your sexual fantasies? A slut who takes the initiative to ride your cock or do you use me like a sex toy to release your sexual desires?" Her words reminded me of how she was in my sexual fantasies. In my fantasies, Umji was a slut who loved to ride my cock and suck my dick off, no matter how much I begged her to stop, she would continue riding my dick until she was satisfied. These imaginations made me inadvertently smile, and my dick grew bigger. “Hey, answer me.” Her voice reminded me that I was still in trouble. "So am I a slut in your fantasy or am I just a sex toy for you to satisfy your sexual desires? Answer me!!!" Her voice became more stern, forcing me to answer her. “In my fantasy, you are……”  I didn't dare let her know that in my fantasy she was just a cock-craving slut. Seeing my panicked look, Umji smirked. Her hand stroked the bulge in my pants. "Tell me now, so I can be the Umji of your sexual fantasy."

I was so frightened by her words that I slammed on the brakes. “Wait. What are you talking about? Umji ssi.”  “Do you want to fuck me? Like how you do it in your fantasy? Just tell me your answer so I can fulfill your fantasy." Umji these lustful words made me speak out my fantasy about her. “You are a slut who is always riding my cock and asks me to cum inside you.” She seemed very satisfied with my answer. She unzipped my pants and released my erect cock. She kept stroking my hard cock. "Your cock is the perfect size to me. You just need to drive to somewhere doesn’t have any people and you can fuck me there." Without saying a word, I stepped on the accelerator and looked for that uninhabited place. While I was driving around looking for a remote place, Umji kept stroking my cock as if to tell me to find a place quickly so she could enjoy my cock.  After searching for a while without success, I drove into the woods. After making sure there was no one around, Umji went straight to me and kissed me while her hand never gave up stroking my hard cock.  Her lips are so soft and sweet. When she kisses me, I say in my heart. Our saliva is constantly passing back and forth in our mouths. Soon, we stopped kissing. Our saliva mixed together and remained in each other's mouths. We swallowed it all. 

"How was it? Did it feel good? Is it the same as you imagined?"  I nodded. "It's really great, even better than I imagined. Your lips are so soft and taste so good, and your saliva tastes so good." Umji smirked and she leaned forward between my thighs ready to take my cock into her mouth. Suddenly, I thought to myself, is it really okay to do this with Umji? Then I stopped her. "Is this really appropriate for us? You're an idol. Is it really appropriate for us to do this here?" "Don't be such a wimp, Oppa. Just let me taste your cock, and then you won't find these things inappropriate at all." After hearing what she said, I let go of my hand that was trying to stop her. Seeing that I didn't stop her, she continued to lean forward and put my hard cock in her mouth. ”Oh…. fuck!” I moaned loudly. Her warm mouth was sucking my cock, and her tongue kept teasing my glans. Her skilled blowjob brought me closer and closer to the edge of ejaculation. I tried to ask her to stop, but it was too late. Her skillful blowjob had made me cum all over. I held her head down as I cum. I shot all my cum into her mouth. Umji didn't seem to mind taking it all. When I was sure I was done, I let go of my hands and let her get up. She opened her mouth and let me see my sperm in her mouth. Then she swallowed it all. "What a thick sperm! Do you want to put it inside me? I'm very wet now." She said seductively. “I want it so much right now."  I respond to her so quickly. "It's a bit cramped in the car, do you want to do it outside?" She smirked. Although I was a little worried about the risk of being exposed while having sex with Umji outside the car, I was already very aroused so I nodded and agreed to the request.

We quickly opened the car door and walked to the front of the car. We leaned against the hood and continued to kiss. My hands wandered restlessly over Umji's hot body. I put my hands into her loose clothes and since she was not wearing any underwear, I could easily touch her perfectly shaped tits and her nipples that were slowly getting hard. As I kept touching her, I couldn't bear it anymore, so I took off her clothes and her breasts finally appeared in front of me. Although her breasts are not bigger than Eunha's, her breasts can still make me enjoy them. I pressed Umji on the hood and started enjoying her tits. "Oppa, you are so good at sucking my tits."  She admired my skills. I ignored her and buried my whole face between her breasts and continued to enjoy her breasts. After a while, I stopped enjoying her tits. Her tits were already covered with my saliva. “You are so tasty, Umji.” "Oppa, not only is my tits tasty, my soaked wet pussy is tasty too." She said her pussy needed to be eaten too. 

I quickly removed her pants and panties. She is now lying on the hood naked. I can see Umji's pussy was completely wet. I simply touched her outer part with my fingers and my fingers were almost soaked with her juices. I slowly moved my mouth closer to her pussy. I put my tongue out and tasted her pussy. The taste of her pussy was salty but it was like an aphrodisiac for me. After the taste, I started to lick her wet pussy. I licked it very roughly and Umji moaned loudly. “Oh fuck…. Just fucking lick my horny pussy!” Since there was no one around, she could moan as loudly as she wanted and no one would hear her. Her dirty talk made me lick even harder. She was getting closer and closer to orgasm as I licked her. She tried to ask me to stop but I ignored her and continued licking her until she finally orgasmed. "I am cumming. Ah...."  As she moaned, her juices came all over my face, but I didn't mind. I took her juices in my mouth and kissed her. Umji didn't mind me feeding her juices. "You are indeed a tasty slut !" 

"Yes, I am your fucking slut. Fuck me already with your rock hard dick. I couldn’t wait to get destroyed by your dick. "  Umji couldn’t wait to get my dick inside her. "As you wish, nasty girl."  I widened her legs and teased her outer pussy with my dick. “Stop teasing me, please. I want your dick inside me right now.” Umji said in a begging voice. In my fantasy, Umji is a slut who begs me to fuck her all the time. Now my fantasy has become real but I still find it a little weird that an idol keeps begging her manager to fuck her, making lewd expression and saying obscene words. That being said, I couldn't wait to put my cock in it. After I shoved my entire dick into her pussy, she was startled by my sudden penetration and moaned loudly.  I was also very surprised at the tightness of her pussy and started moaning too. “Fuck…. your pussy is so tight. Its so great !”  Her tight pussy kept squeezing my cock, making me want to cum. Since this was my first time having sex with Umji, I didn't want it to end so quickly, so I tried my best to control myself from cumming. I grabbed her waist and fuck her, her wet pussy made it very easy for me to fuck her. As I thrusted in and out, her breasts began to sway. The swaying breasts were a great temptation to me. I touched her breasts with one hand and continued to hold her waist with the other hand and continued to thrust in and out. “Yes… fuck my sensitive pussy and touch my horny tits.” 

Umji has forgotten her idol side, now she is just a slut who wants to be fucked. “Fuck me harder and harder. Just release all your desire on me.” I was getting less excited by fucking her in the same position. So I turned her over. Now she had her hands on the hood of the car, with her tits pressed against it. Her perfect backside was now in front of me. I couldn't wait any longer, so I aimed my cock at her pussy again and put it in. "It feels really different to fuck you from behind than from the front." “What’s the difference?” She was curious about this. "Your pussy is tighter, and your body looks even sexier from behind." I grabbed her waist with both hands and fucked her hard while answering her. Umji becomes a moaning mess, all the sound she can make is only “Ah…. Ah!!” ”Spank me please.” Then, she also said softly. “What?” I was so focused on the thrusting that I didn't hear it carefully. “Spank me now, I want to get spank so much right now." As per her request, I spanked her lightly. ”Hit me harder.” This time I'll use a little more force. "Don't spank me so softly. Hit me harder. Hard enough to leave your palm print on my ass." This time, I spanked with more force. Her ass bounced because of my force, and her ass really left my red palm print. "Ah... that's it. Fuck me and spank me at the same time. I'll enjoy it more if Oppa talks dirty to me."  

I seem to be addicted to spanking her. I spanked her subconsciously while I was fucking her. Both sides of her ass were red from my spanking. Umji didn't seem to feel any pain, but rather enjoyed it very much, moaning non-stop. "You really are just like my fantasy, a cock-craving slut." Instead of saying dirty words to her, I started insulting her. "Yeah, I'm a slut who wants to be fucked as much as you want by Oppa's cock." Not only did she not resist, but she actually enjoyed it very much when I insulted her. I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and continued to fuck her. “ "Do your members know how slutty you are in private? Or are they sluts like you?" "No, they don't. They don't know that I'm a secret slut who loves to be fucked by a cock." "You're such a fucking slutty bitch."  Pumping Umji and humiliating her at the same time made me feel closer and closer to the edge of cumming. This kind of excitement is something I can't get from masturbation. “Umji, I am cumming soon.” “Oppa, just cum inside me. I want to feel your hot cum in my pussy.” I increased the speed of thrusting after hearing that I could cum inside Umji. ”Ah…. Ah…. Umji take my seed.” With the last thrust, I shot all my semen into her pussy. “Oppa, your cum inside me is so hot.” I didn't pull my cock out right away, but kept it inside her. I lay on top of her, both of us panting. "Oppa, you are so good in fucking me. Would you like to have a second round?" She smirked. After that, we got in the car. I sat on the seat and Umji was riding on my dick. The cramped space in the car brought our bodies closer together. Her riding skills were so good that I creampied her again within just a few rides. “AH… Umji, you are so hot and so great.” "Let's continue...Oppa. I need you to fill me more with your hot semen."  We had sex in the woods countless times until it was almost dark, and we were reluctant to go back to the dormitory.

Since then, Umji and I have become sex buddies. Sometimes when I drive her to an event, I will arrive early and find a place where there are no people to have sex with her. Or when she is alone in the dormitory, she will invite me to have sex with her. We will have sex whenever and wherever we have time. One time, we were having sex with, so we didn't know Eunha and Sinb had come back to the dormitory. Her moans filled the whole dormitory. Although they knew about our relationship, her moans made them want to have sex. They opened Umji's door and watched us having sex. They asked us to continue while they masturbated. It made me more excited to have someone watching, so I fucked Umji again soon and they also came. I took my cock out of her, Eunha and Sinb looked at my cock dripping with semen and smirked. At that time, I know I will get drained by them.

[corviiids]

fic prompt: light in a final day of the yotsuba arc timeloop where he loses and regains his kira memories every day (but retains awareness of the loop).

It's not until the fifth time around that Light slips up and answers the question before L's asked it.

L is staring at him.

Light clears his throat. "Sugars," he says. "Right? You were just picking up the bowl."

"Right," says L after a short pause, though his hand is nowhere near the sugar bowl. He plucks two cubes out with his fingers and plops them into Light's coffee, just like he'd asked. "I always forget how intuitive Light-kun is."

Those cold black eyes don't leave him for some time. Light stares at his hands, trying not to think about the yawning hole in his memory. Over the past five Thursday the 28th of Octobers, it's only grown deeper.

--

The traffic officer dies every time. Light's tried to stop it, but there's little he can do. He doesn't know the fellow's name to call ahead on the radio. He's never stuck around long enough for the investigation to complete, so he's never seen the man's ID. The day always resets before then.

He does, at least, manage to prevent his father from being shot. It's Wedy instead. The next time around, Light closes his eyes to his father's pained shout.

On one occasion, Higuchi dies before they can arrest him. L takes up his--

--something. Something. Something, and. They reclaim something from Higuchi every time they get him. It's small enough to fit in L's hands and every time someone touches it they scream. Something. Each time they reach the helicopter, Light reaches across L and plucks the thing out of L's limp hands, and then his memory goes white and the fourth day of the week begins again. It's the thing Kira uses to kill, it's the only important thing he's learned. Why can't Light remember what it is?

On that one Thursday, Light shouts a new instruction and Higuchi shoots himself in the head before anyone can comply. L takes up the something as Higuchi's body bleeds out. Light tugs it from his hands and his memory whites. With the white comes something else: panic, the likes of which Light had never felt, sickness somewhere deep and coiling. He wakes up on Thursday the 28th of October with the heavy weight of a damning failure resting in his gut.

But it's morning again. The sun warms L's pale, sleeping face and lights up the dark blood vessels under his eyes. Light swallows down a gag.

--

"You've been agitated today," L comments.

It's lonely not having a confidant. It's isolating. Light has thought about telling his father, but their relationship isn't confessional like that. He's thought about telling Ryuk, or even Misa, or Aizawa. But then, anyone he told, L would hear it too.

Light isn't sure why he's keeping the loop from L. He has nothing to hide from L. No reason to hide from L. The two of them, after all, are going to catch Kira.

"Did Light-kun--"

"I slept fine," says Light.

L's expression doesn't change. "I was going to ask if you had any questions for me," he says.

That isn't true. "Oh, sorry," says Light. "No, I'm good."

Each time the white fades and he wakes, L is the first thing he sees. Some remnant of the night before draws back hissing from his sleeping face like grease from soap. Light will watch him sleep until the revulsion eases, until it fades, and L's eyes open wide again. The man never blinks. The skin on his eyelids is thin. Light will not get to see them again until they sleep, so while L sleeps, Light watches him and tries to forget everything L had asked of him the day before, and fails.

--

Higuchi enters the office and takes out Matsui's CV. He pulls out a pen and writes the name down, then he leaves. Light is forgetting something.

"It has something to do with the name," he says desperately, casting about. "Something to do with the way he wrote down that name."

L looks at him strangely. "We know that, Light-kun," he says almost gently.

"No," Light says, frustrated. There's something. Something. Deep in the recesses of his memory, there's something he can't find, something that will lead them to Kira. Higuchi wrote Matsui's name and all the tension left his body.

In the helicopter, he snatches at the something like a vulture at dead flesh and the world goes white again.

--

What if, wonders a small voice. What if he didn't pick it up? What if, whatever the something is, Light left it in L's hands? Perhaps the dark would stay dark and Light might be permitted to see his next Friday. It's worth a try, at least. It's worth a shot. The cuffs slap onto Higuchi's wrists and Light lunges for the thing in L's hands once more.

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 1/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: One of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 3,965 warnings: none nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve a/n: did someone order a hallmark christmas fic? (it was me, i ordered it). special thank you to @leodette for helping me out with this!! also yes named ofc not sorry, and shout out to Zuz, @driverlando, @snoopyracing, @spiderbeam, @landinhoe, @maxlarens for letting me use them as side characters. Soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music

Part One

Natalie Webber made the drive a couple of times a year, but this time there was a finality about it. Possibly because her car was packed with everything she cared to bring with her. Or it could have been that her low fuel light came on as soon as she passed the sole gas station. Groaning, she kept going.

She wasn’t ready to be seen. Although she had a feeling that everyone already knew she was coming back.

It never failed to amaze her how the town never changed. The diner next to the gas station. The post office, the town hall. The town green was situated across from the town hall, and when she drove by, she saw people setting up for the annual bonfire. She recognized a few of the people and kept going. Past the café and the hardware store and the bookstore. Then the general store on the corner, across from the bakery.

She could practically taste the croissants as she turned.

One block and she was home. Home. Not the penthouse apartment overlooking the city. Home, with its graveled driveway and slate stepping stones to the front stoop.

She stared at the two-story brick house for a moment, finally cutting the engine and letting go of the steering wheel. Her father’s truck was where he always parked it and she sighed, knowing he had walked down to the town green instead of driving. Glancing at the front door she could see a note tacked in the middle of the autumn wreath and rolled her eyes while she climbed out of the car and walked to the door.

Gone to the green to help, then to the bakery to do prep for morning. Be back by dark. Love you.

The front door was unlocked, because of course it was. She wondered if it would do any good to fuss at her father about it but knew it would be like every other time. He’d been on this earth for however many years without her managing every little detail, and he’d do just fine now.

It took fewer trips to unload her car than she had thought it would, and was still light out when she sat on her old bed in her old room. It smelled of lemon furniture polish, fabric softener, and vanilla. Her gaze landed on the dresser and her vision blurred with tears.

A small plate, piled with sugar cookies. Her favorite. Leaning, she grabbed one, blinking the tears away as another note fluttered to the floor.

Welcome home, sweetie

"Oh dad," Natalie sighed, picking up the note and tucking it into the frame of the mirror.

When she'd called him in tears asking if she could come home he'd told her that her room would always be there for her. And in the ensuing weeks she'd been able to pick up on the excitement in his voice. Having her home for a few days wasn't the same. Running the bakery didn't give him many opportunities to visit her, not to mention he hated anything larger than the next town over, which only had three traffic lights.

She just wished she'd come home a success. Not the abject failure she was.

Picking up another cookie, she busied herself with unpacking, trying her best to stuff the accessories she'd amassed into the bedroom she had lived in for eighteen years.

The clock on the mantel in the living room chimed as she brought the empty plate downstairs. Just as she stepped off the bottom stair the front door opened and—

"Natalie."

She could hear his joy and noticed several things as she moved to greet him. His limp had worsened since she'd last seen him on Father's Day. His hair was grayer. There were shadows under his eyes. She had never seen him look so happy to see her. His hug was tighter than she remembered and she held onto him, allowing herself to be his little girl for a moment.

"Don't cry, sweetie," Mark soothed when a sob escaped her. "Come on, into the kitchen."

The kitchen was as it always had been. Bright an spacious with the lingering aroma of coffee and spices. She wiped her tears away and, knowing he wouldn't sit down and let her wait on him, made him at least help fix the pot of coffee and put together turkey sandwiches for an early dinner before the bonfire.

Spotting a small wooden box on the island counter she pulled it close and lifted the lid. "What's this old thing doing out? You don't need help remembering your old recipes do you?"

"Of course not." He watched her flick through the contents. Index cards, scraps of paper, most of them in his handwriting.

Natalie smiled as she pulled out the stained, crumpled brown paper bag that had her grandfather's brownie recipe jotted down. "I'll never forget you giving me this when I said I wanted to make brownies," she murmured. "I couldn't read half the measurements, and Papa didn't even have the oven temperature or bake time on here."

"You figured it out," Mark reminded her with a chuckle. Taking it from her, he carefully tucked it back into the box and replaced the lid. "I'm gonna finally type them up."

"Finally doing a cookbook?" she guessed. She'd been telling him for years that he should. Had even suggested he just do a few copies at a time to give to friends.

"No…" Shaking his head, he smoothed his fingers over the top of the box. He looked about to say something, then cleared his throat. "I got you some of that almond milk for your coffee."

"Thanks." When she'd come to stay for Christmas two years before he'd acted as though she'd insulted him and his entire lineage.

Mark Webber drank his coffee black. No sugar, no cream or milk, no flavorings. At home, he drank it out of his favorite mug: off-white with a red handle that his late wife had given to him their first Christmas together. At the bakery, he had it out of his second-favorite mug: the garish blue one with #1 Dad in yellow letters that Natalie had given him for Father's Day when she'd been six.

Mark Webber also drank his coffee strong. She'd forgotten how strong he made his coffee and, when he moved to sit at the table, she added more sweetener and almond milk to her mug before joining him.

He waited until they'd finished their sandwiches and had each eaten half a cookie before speaking. "Do you know what you're gonna do yet?"

"No." The cookies were perfect. Golden brown on the bottom, just soft to the touch. They melted in her mouth and she reached for another. "I guess I'll start looking Monday."

"There's no rush."

"Dad… I'm too old to be living at home supported by you."

"Nonsense. You're never too old to need your dad's support."

The cookie turned bitter in her mouth. "I'm supposed to be looking after you by now."

"Just because I'm getting a little slower—"

"Have you scheduled your knee replacement?"

"Ah," he grunted, scowling as he lifted his mug. "It can wait."

Natalie blinked. "Are you insane? You can't—"

"I can. I'll have it after the Christmas rush."

"What? Christmas is almost a month away!"

"And then I'll schedule my replacement and take time off like you've been telling me to do for years."

She drew in a breath. Don't argue. Don't argue. Don't argue. "Have you hired extra help at the bakery?"

He didn't answer.

Natlie somehow kept her voice gentle. "You're only making it worse."

"I wear a brace at work. I take pain medicine when I need it. I even use that fucking cane. You make it sound like I'm tap dancing twelve hours a day." He stood and she noticed he moved with deliberate steps to refill his coffee.

"Can you at least try to take it easy?" She frowned. "The business is still good isn't it?"

"Of course it is." He flashed her a smile. "In fact, I—"

"Since I'm unemployed, I'll help out. I can't bake as well as you but I can do the basics."

His brow furrowed and he slowly took a sip of coffee. "You mean that?"

"It's the least I can do."

His brow relaxed. "I'm glad you're home, Natalie."

She thought of the penthouse that she had told herself over and over she loved. The job she had thought had been her dream come true. The carefully laid plans for her life. One tiny hiccup had caused it all to crumble to dust.

Swallowing hard, she managed a smile. "Me, too."

"It's as cold as a witch's ti—"

"Natalie Rose." Her father's tone held the same warning it had when she'd been a rambunctious little kid.

"Well it is," she muttered, zipping her jacket up to her chin.

"Once the fires get going you'll forget the cold."

Shoving her hands into her pockets, she stood beside him on the corner. "How's your knee?"

"It still bends. It's fine, sweetie."

She didn't fully believe him. It had to hurt, especially in the cold. He'd insisted on walking to the bonfire, and if he noticed she intentionally slowed her steps so he wouldn't overdo it, he didn't say.

"Natalie!"

"I thought that was you driving through town this afternoon!"

The familiar voices had her forgetting the chill in the air. Next to her, her father cleared his throat.

"I see the pastor," he said as Sasha and Lilli approached. Then, showing no signs of having a bad knee, he hurried away.

Natalie hugged her two longtime friends, enthusing over how good it was to see them again, even though they'd made a trip to visit her just a few weeks before.

"Maddie's here," Lilli said, gesturing to one of the benches. "You know her doctor put her on bed rest but she still came?"

"Her mom is the mayor she kind of has to," Sasha laughed. Arms linked the three made their way to the bench, and Natalie sat next to Maddie on the bench as Sasha rushed off to find Susie and Amira. The group tried to quickly catch up but it was impossible, because seemingly every town resident had to walk by to welcome Natalie home.

Familiar faces she'd known all her life. Some genuinely happy to see her, some surprised, and a few looked as though they were happy that she'd failed at her city life. Smiling with relief when Susie suggested cider, she pulled her jacket hood over her head and walked with her friend across the square, past the towering structure that was roped off to keep children from getting too close. Dotted around the perimeter of the square were smaller fires for the marshmallow roasting.

"Did your dad abandon you?" Susie asked, reaching out to grab the arm of her son Michael when he began to skip away.

"Nah, he went to talk to the pastor." Natalie scooped Michael up and was rewarded with a grin as the boy. "Where are Hannah and Estie?"

"They're coming. The mare is close to foaling, and you know how he is when that happens." Susie rolled her eyes. "Hannah insisted on staying with him."

"At least this time you're not about to have a baby," Natalie teased. It was one of Susie's favorite stories, how her husband Esteban had been so caught up in the birth of a foal that he had missed the birth of his daughter. It was good-natured teasing, especially now that Esteban had made up for it by making sure to attend every moment of his son's birth the next year.

"We have to have a girls' night," Susie insisted while they stood in line for cider. "Come by the café for lunch tomorrow? Or do you have plans?"

"I've been home for four hours, when would I have made plans?"

"So you haven't met the new neighbor?"

"What new—"

"Daddy!" Michael squealed.

"There's my darling boy." Esteban Ocon was grinning as he strolled up, passing Hannah off to her mother and immediately slipping Michael from Natalie's arms. A second later his arm was around his wife, tucking her close to his side so he could kiss the top of her head. Looking at Natalie, his grin widened. "Hey, stranger."

"You saw me two months ago," Natalie snorted, letting Hannah jump into her arms for a hug.

"Doesn't count, it was for five minutes and on pavement, not grass." Esteban shuddered dramatically.

"How's Bonny?" Susie asked him.

"Restless. The vet said it'll probably be late tonight, but we knew that already. He's coming by again after the bonfire. I'm not staying long, I don't want her to be alone. Did Mark do cookies for this year?" Esteban glanced at his watch then at the next stall.

"He said Mrs. Parker picked them up this morning," Natalie told him.

"Cookie?" Michael asked hopefully.

"Of course, let's go find some cookies. Mommy can get us cider, hm? And we can roast one marshmallow before I have to get back to the farm," Esteban assured gently, ushering both Hannah and Michael towards the cookie stall.

"I'll find you," Susie called after him.

Natalie watched him herd his kids off then turned her attention back to Susie. Her friend was admiring Esteban's retreat, smirking. Natalie snorted and poked her in the arm. "What new neighbor?"

"Oh! Right, sorry. I was distracted…" Susie gave a little sigh before turning to face Natalie. "What?"

"Stop planning the conception of your third child and tell me about the new neighbor."

"I'm not planning a conception, I'm planning—"

"Susie!"

"Sorry. Jeez. Anyway, your new neighbor? Oscar Piastri. He's fixing up the old Alonso place on Halifax Street. You remember, the yellow Victorian with the two turrets?"

Natalie wanted to question how someone three blocks away could be considered a neighbor but knew better. If a family moved into one of the old farms out on Route 15, they were a neighbor. It was just how it was. "He bought that big old house?"

"No, no, he's fixing it up for his friend. Max something. Very nice. Married with two kids about Hannah and Michael's age—"

"The new neighbor?"

"Max. Oscar's single." Susie stepped up to the stall and requested four ciders, dropping a few dollars into the jar. "Max and his family are moving to town after the holidays I think. Estie has Max and Oscar over quite a bit. Max is looking to buy a local business."

Natalie shoved some cash into the jar and scooped up five cups of cider as well, balancing them between her hands. "What business?"

"I don't know, nobody's selling that I know of. Sasha hasn't heard a word either." As the wife to the town's sole real estate agent, Sasha would know. "I asked Estie but he said he doesn't know. I think he misheard. Or he's just being mean because he knows I need to know all the details." Susie huffed with annoyance. "He's such an ass."

Natalie slowly counted to three.

"But he's got such a great ass, I forgive him."

Natalie laughed, and noticed people moving closer to the center of the green. "Go find your ass."

"Lunch?"

"Lunch," she promised, carrying the ciders back to the other girls. Lando was on the bench with Maddie, gently massaging her baby bump, and pouted playfully when Natalie didn't hand him a cider. George had Lilli wrapped in his arms, and Carlos was fussing over Sasha for not wearing her hat. Natalie vaguely recognized the man standing with Amira and absentmindedly rubbed her empty ring finger as she stood near the couples. The mayor spoke and Natalie listened to her words about spreading light and good cheer, then politely joined in the applause as the mayor held a torch to the base of the structure. A ripple of excitement swept through the crowd and Natalie's eyes swept up, watching the flames spread up the structure. Then, one by one, the smaller fires were lit.

Music began to play and the atmosphere was light. Giggling children, lighthearted chatter. Natalie looked around for her father, saw children lining up for marshmallows and skewers, adults settling on blankets by the smaller fires. She glimpsed Susie with Esteban, Hannah, and Michael. The scent of burning sugar and wood filled the air and she sipped the cider, apologizing when she bumped into a woman holding a toddler. She sidestepped, wincing when she stepped into a man.

"Sorry," the man said, grinning as one hand shot out to steady her. The other hand clutched an energy drink.

She didn't recognize him and wondered if he was the new neighbor. The woman turned, chastising him for being clumsy, and Natalie offered a quick smile. "No, no, it was my fault. Wasn't looking where I was going."

"Neither does he," the woman said with a playful grin. "He always says it's a great way to meet new people. Since we're moving into town soon, I suppose he has a point. Hi, I'm Eve. This is my husband, Max."

"Lucas," the toddler announced, patting his chest.

"I was getting to you," Eve said.

Natalie smiled at the boy, who was starting to wriggle in his mother's arms and tugging at the hat on his head. "I'm Natalie. You're moving into… Oh! Into the old Alonso place?"

"Guilty as charged," Max said with a grin, tugging the cap down on his son's head. "As soon as Oscar finishes getting it ready. We still live up in Fairview while Eve finishes her contract, but I'm back and forth helping Oscar and—"

"He means slowing down Oscar's work," Eve put in. "The house was supposed to be finished by Thanksgiving—"

"It'll be finished by the end of the year," Max insisted gently, taking a sip of his energy drink. "Stop worrying."

"Cookie?" Lucas asked, snatching the hat from his head.

""We're going to get cookies and cider right now, darling." Eve grabbed the hat and handed it to Max. "Great meeting you, Natalie!"

"You too," Natalie replied, watching her head towards the stalls.

"Do you live in town?" Max asked, turning to face her fully. He tipped his head, grinning again. "You're Mark's daughter."

"You know my dad?" she asked, stepping to one side when someone bumped into her and blinking in surprise when Max suddenly reached out to catch a girl by the arm.

"Watch where you're going, please," he said in a firm but gentle tone of a loving parent.

"Sorry!" The girl tipped her head back to stare up at Natalie. "Sorry, ma'am."

"No harm done," Natalie assured her.

"My daughter Grace," Max introduced. "This is—"

"Grace!"

Natalie stepped aside again when a man jogged up. Glancing at him, she was surprised to see him in only a thin jacket despite the chill. Brown hair fell over his eyes as he skidded to a stop, bending to give Grace a playful glare.

"Brat," he said. "Why did you run away from me?"

"I saw Daddy," Grace told him, hugging Max's leg.

The man snorted derisively. "He's not that great." Swinging her into his arms, he spun her in a quick circle. "You're still a brat."

"Just like you," Grace said, sticking out her tongue.

"Don't tell Lucas, but you're my favorite."

"My friend Oscar," Max said to Natalie. "Osc, this is Natalie."

Oscar gave her a quick glance, nodding. "Hi."

"Hi," she greeted.

"Can we get a marshmallow now? Please?" Grace asked. "Before they're all gone."

Natalie finished her now-cold cider. "You don't have to worry about that. Mrs. Parker always gets more than enough."

"Is she the old lady with the funny laugh?"

"Grace," Max groaned, clapping a hand over his face. "Don't be rude."

"You said it's not rude if it's true."

"Don't say everything I say," Max muttered.

Grace heaved a sigh and turned to Natalie. "I'm sorry if I was rude."

"She does have a funny laugh," Natalie told her in a stage whisper. "I got in trouble once for saying she sounded like a donkey."

The girl's eyes widened comically. "She does! I told you, Daddy!"

"Oh god. Let's get a marshmallow," Max sighed, holding out his arms. "And remember your manners, okay?"

Oscar chuckled as father and daughter headed off. "His curse is having kids just like him."

Natalie nodded. There was a brief silence as they stood there, and she cleared her throat. "Have you had to do a lot of work on the house?"

Oscar nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Quite a bit, yeah. Still a ways to go before it's done. I don't have to sleep in the camper anymore, though."

Another brief silence. "My friend Susie mentioned—"

"Esteban's wife?" Oscar flashed a quick smile. "Nice woman."

"Yeah, she's great." Why did this feel so awkward and stilted? She never had trouble talking to strangers. Her old work friends had teased that she could strike up a conversation with anyone.

The song playing over the loudspeakers changed and she brightened, spirits lifting as one of her favorite Christmas songs began to play, drowned out briefly by Oscar's groan.

She glanced at him curiously. "Not a fan of Perry Como?

He snorted. "He's alright. Not really a fan of Christmas music."

Her jaw slackened. "Really? How come? I mean, that's none of my business, sorry. I'm sure you have a valid reason. Do you not celebrate?"

"Oh I celebrate it. I just hate Christmas music."

"That's impossible. No one hates Christmas music," she insisted.

"Maybe hate is too strong a word. I… Dislike it. It gets stuck in my head and it's played nonstop as soon as Halloween is over." He shuddered. "Disgusting."

"I haven't met one person who's said they hate Christmas music…"

"C'mon, be honest." Oscar moved closer. "Isn't there a Christmas song you can't stand? One that comes on and you want to kick a reindeer?"

Natalie let out a shocked laugh. "No! Christmas music is perfect."

"Nothing's perfect," he scoffed.

Somehow they'd fallen into step next to each other, falling in line to get marshmallows and skewers. Natalie smiled at Mrs. Parker when she was handed a skewer then trailed along beside Oscar towards a fire. "Christmas music is perfect," she said again as they settled on a bench. "It's superior. Even when I'm not in a Christmassy mood it lifts my spirits."

"Even the one about a hippopotamus?"

"That one makes me giggle." She held her marshmallow close to the flames.

"Two front teeth?" he asked skeptically.

She laughed, shaking her head. "Sorry, I love it. It's all wonderful. Even the religious ones are great. Magic and hope and the promise of good things."

He shook his head. "I guess you have a point."

"Plus most of them have jingle bells. What's not to love?"

Oscar hummed. "You're on fire."

Natalie frowned, watching the firelight dance on his face. "Is that a Christmas song? I don't think I've ever heard that—"

"No." He reached to cover her hand with his, pulling her marshmallow from the fire. "Your marshmallow."

For the first time she noticed his eyes were brown. Finally dragging her gaze from him, she saw her charred marshmallow and groaned, shaking the smoking brick off the skewer, heard the faint sizzle as it landed in the flames.

"You can have mine," he offered.

"It's fine. I don't even like them that much," she said with a shrug.

He gave her hand a squeeze before letting go, eyes meeting hers. And suddenly she couldn't feel the disappointment over losing her marshmallow.

[demonsslayersstuff]

I’m here for you (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

A/N: Here is an angst heavy Levi fic. Post mission, Levi is there to comfort you in his own way as you struggle with the trauma of a failed mission beyond the wall. (Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of death, survivors guilt, ptsd, trauma, and suicide. If these trigger you, please do not read! This is not a happy drabble, but it is ends on a lighter tone.

You slide off your horse with a defeated slump. Today had been easily one of the most difficult days in your life. You were use to death, nearly every scouting mission past the walls resulted in someone’s death. But today, today you’d lost more than half of your squad.

You look over your shoulder to see the three remaining members you had left. You note the hollowness in their eyes, the gauntness in their faces. Your words still in your throat and for the first time in a long time, you feel tears form in your eyes. You turn your face back towards your horse, gripping the reins tightly as you lay your face against its neck, trying to calm yourself.

“Captain”, you hear called meekly out to you, forcing you to take a deep breath. “Dismissed, you all deserve a much needed rest, report back tomorrow morning”, you manage to get out in your typical commanding voice, but deep down you didn’t feel like a captain, you felt like a failure. You watch as they dismount, leaving their horses to the stable hands before they quietly make their way to the barracks in silence, clearly traumatized by the previous events that had befallen your group.

You sigh knowing you should do a mission debrief with Erwin, wash the wet blood that caked your face and clothing, and probably eat. But you do none of those things. Instead you find yourself heading towards the wall, the very one whose gates you just passed through. It’s not long before you find yourself atop the stone structure, walking the familiar path. You walk past squads who are taken aback by your appearance, but say nothing, something that you are grateful for. You find a quiet place, one that rarely gets much foot traffic, and plop down, feet dangling off the edge.

You sit there for a long time, numbly staring out of the vast expanse of an unknown world, knowing that somewhere out there were the corpses of your squad members, unable to be brought home for a proper burial. You sit there long enough that the blood that coated your face and body has completely dried and the sun has long set past the horizon. It’s only then do you feel his presence. “How long have you been watching me?”, you ask quietly, making no effort to look in his direction. “Long enough to miss dinner, so I guess we are both going hungry tonight”, he states before finally walking towards you. “You’re not my babysitter, you could have left”, you remark finally glancing to your left, taking in his figure.

“True, but something told me to stay”, he replies gruffly coming to stand next you. He lowers his gaze to yours, looking at you carefully. “I’m not gonna kill myself Levi”, you mutter. “I know”, he simply replies, though his tone indicated that he didn’t fully believe you. You don’t say anything, instead focusing your vision back out towards the darken fields, sighing. You had a job to do and you needed to do it, regardless of how you were feeling. “Should probably go shower and hand that mission report in”, you say, but still make no effort to actually get up. “It’s not your fault”, Levi tells you suddenly, easily reading your thoughts. You look up at him, anger flashing in your eyes. You open your mouth to say something, but he’s quick to cut you off. “Don’t do this to yourself, don’t. They chose to join the scouts on their own accord. They knew what they were getting into, so you cannot blame yourself”, he tells you sternly.

An uneasy silence falls between the two of you. You knew his words were true as harsh as they sounded, but they didn’t help ease the pain that you were feeling. Levi sighs before offering you his hand. He wasn’t very good at handling big emotional things, but Levi knew how well you easily responded to his touch, his physical presence often helped calmed you down when you were having a bad day. You look up at him questionably, surprised at the fact he was openly offering you his hand, in public no less. “Just take it brat”, he states. You place your palm in his own as his fingers interlock with yours. Levi gives you a subtle, but reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go get you cleaned up”, Levi says, his tone a bit softer than his previous remarks as he pulls you up to your feet. You follow him quietly as he leads the way towards the barracks, his grip on your hand remaining as you weave through streets.

It’s not long before you find yourself in front of the shower house, practically deserted at this late hour. “Go shower. I’m going to grab you some fresh clothes”, Levi tells you, his authoritative voice back as he loosens his hold on your hand. With a squint of his eyes he quickly recedes down the hallway towards your shared quarters as you push open the door. You strip your dirty garments, tossing them into the laundry bin before you step into one of the showers.

The temperate water stings your skin, loosing up the caked blood. You watch as the draining water turns a dark tone of red and you wonder which of your squad members blood it was. Memories flash through your mind; laughter over a drink on a rare evening off with your crew, teasing during trainings, proudness as you watch them take down their first titan. As quickly as it started, it quickly ends and you feel a strangled scream erupt from the back of your throat, the reality of their deaths crashing down on you. All you’d have of them now would be memories.

You hit the concrete wall with your fist as you cry, the pent up emotion spilling out from years of keeping your feelings in check. The pain as your knuckles scrape against the hard material keeps you grounded from completely losing it. As you move to hit the wall again, you feel a hand grab your wrist, stopping you. You turn your head to see Levi standing there with a look on his face you’ve never seen before. His blue eyes lock on to yours and you can see the sadness that lingers in his gaze, equal to the worry that is held in them too. “I just…fuck I just…I don’t even know”, you cry. Levi pulls you towards him, not caring that your wet body soaks his clothes, he wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you. “Just let it out”, he whispers.

The two of you stand in a tight embrace for a long time as you cry into his shoulder, before the tears eventually subside. You pull away from him slightly, a guilty expression evident on your face. You open your mouth to apologize, you’d never been this emotional in front of Levi before. However Levi just shakes his head, “Don’t, sometimes we need to let it out”, he tells you. Levi leans up to briefly kiss your forehead before stepping away to grab you a towel. When he comes back you let him towel you off, relishing in his gentle touches.

You quickly put on some fresh clothes before you finally step out of the shower house, back into the dark hallway. “I suppose it’s too late to give the commander my report”, you muse as the two of you walk down the hall. Levi makes no effort to talk about the breakdown you’d just had. But that was Levi, never forcing you to talk about things until you were ready to. “Seeing as it’s two in the morning, probably not. Do it first thing the morning”, Levi tells you, as he opens the bedroom door. You nod your head as you step through the threshold, kicking your boots off as he quickly changes out of his wet uniform.

As the two of you slide underneath the covers you turn to face Levi, scooting closer to him. “Thank you”, you whisper. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, maneuvering your head to his chest. “I’m always here for you”, he simply says, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Now sleep”, he commands softly as you snuggle into his body, feeling a bit better. You knew a simple cry session would wasn’t going to fix this, but you knew with Levi by your side you’d get through it.

[bellesdreamyprofile]

sad days with y/n - 1970´s elvis (part 2)

ANOTHER FAMILY MEMBER FOR THE PRESLEYS?

Was the headline of today’s paper. You shakily rolled it in your hand and hastily stuffed it in your bag. A shaky sigh left your lips, eyes looking left and right as you felt strangers´ eyes on you. Your driver automatically opened the car door as he noticed you approaching.

“Mrs Presley.”, he nodded, the emotion in his eyes unreadable due to the dark glasses perched on his nose. You nodded as well and tried to muster your best smile, but it was forced more than anything.

Once you were in the safety of the car, your hand found its way on your bump - a familiar spot ever since you found out you were pregnant. Only one month to go. 

The drive to Graceland wasn’t as short as you were used to - maybe it was the traffic or the fact that you were so in your head. Your baby kicked and an automatic smile made its way on your lips.

“A man like Elvis Presley would never leave the luxury of a Vegas hotel and the love of thousands of fans for a baby.”

But a man like Elvis Presley did in fact leave the luxury of Las Vegas. Not just for the baby, but even for your pregnancy. Concerts were postponed whenever you felt a wave of dizziness. Dinners were left uneaten to take you to the hospital, despite your reassurance that everything was alright. The day you found out you were pregnant, Elvis was in Vegas - but you just couldn’t wait for him to come back to you. You told him on the phone and, unbeknownst to you ten minutes before he had to be on stage, he took the first flight to Memphis and made his way to you.

There lied his love. In his gestures, in his kisses and in his words. 

But with the speculation and articles, even his unconditional love wasn’t enough sometimes.

“Mrs Presley, are you alright?”, the driver glanced at you through the rearview mirror. You forced your eyes shut at the sudden abdominal pain. You nodded your head, stating you were fine, but your hands cradling your bump told another story.

“Should I drive you to the hospital? Even just in case?”, there was clear panic laced in his voice, but you couldn’t let it get to you. Your baby had to stay in there for one more month. Today was too soon. Especially on Elvis´ birthday.

“I’m alright, Hank, thank you.”, you managed to say through gritted teeth. “Just… Just drive to Graceland. I’m okay.”, the words seemed spoken only to reassure you, because Hank didn’t buy them. He sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter and turned right, droving in the direction of the hospital.

You were repeating numbers in your head, but the pain didn’t subside. You grunted at the discomfort and tried to shift your weight a little, hoping it would help. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t let them out. Just like you couldn’t let your baby out earlier than they were supposed to.

The car stopped abruptly and as you threw a glance outside the window, you gulped. “Hank... I thought I said to take me—“, but you couldn’t even form full sentences at the pain you were in. Hank wordlessly walked out of the vehicle and approached your side, opening the door.

He extended his hand out for you and you took it, your gaze lowering almost feeling some sort of shame. Like it was your fault that your baby wanted to say hello a month earlier. You believed that was some sort of failure — and now you were embarrassed.

“Thank you.”, you murmured, gripping his hand. Hank simply nodded and helped you walk to the main doors where he spotted a wheelchair. Once there, he helped you take a seat and that was when the reality of what was going to happen started settling in.

“Please call Elvis.”, your voice was strained and there were tears in your eyes as you looked up to the driver.

“Let me just call a nurse and I’ll call him.”, Hank promised and wheeled you to the first nurse he could spot, explaining the situation to her. She nodded, wheeled you away and Hank immediately started looking for a phone, intent on keeping his promise.

“Elvis Presley Graceland. Who is this?”

“Mrs Presley is at the hospital. Please inform Mr Presley.”, Hank didn’t waste any time to inform the family. Hushed voices were heard from the other end and the driver grew impatient.

“Hank is that you?”, it was Elvis. “Where’s my wife?”

“Mr Presley, you wife was experiencing rushes of pain on the way home and I decided—“

“I’ll be there. You don’t leave her side.”

They helped you in the hospital gown and settled you in a bed, but the pain grew exponentially. You were still a little shook up from the past hour. Why was everything happening so soon? Was there a way that you could’ve controlled it or—

“Satnin.”

Tears of relief ran down your cheeks at the sight of your husband. Your arms reached out to him and he moved right in, engulfing you in his warm embrace.

“Oh, baby.”, he kissed your temple and brought your head to his chest.

“I’m so scared, Elvis.”, you said through tears. Elvis caressed your cheeks in the most tender way and placed a kiss to your lips. “I can’t do this.”

“My darlin´…”, at the sound of his honey-like voice, your eyes shut as you breathed in his familiar scent. It was grounding — and exactly what you needed right now.

His hands shook as he held you close to his body. “If there’s anybody that can do this… It’s you baby.”, his index and thumb found your chin, pulling it up to look into your eyes. Those eyes he fell in love with so many years ago.

“But… Baby wasn’t supposed to be here today, E… In a month—“

“We’re gonna share the same birthday?”, Elvis asked as the realization settled in. You let out a little chuckle at his excitement and nodded. “See, baby? It was meant to be.”

You looked at him and focused on the glistening blue, wondering if your baby was going to inherit their daddy’s flirty eyes. You hoped your baby to have his character, because it was truly something you endlessly loved about Elvis.

With words of encouragement and reassuring touches, you did it.

IT´S A GIRL! BABY PRESLEY - BORN JANUARY 8TH 1971

Not only did baby Presley share her birthday with her daddy, but she grew to be the kindest, most loving little girl anybody had ever met. Elvis’ wit and character became her own as she shared her talent with the world just like her daddy had always done.

Happy birthday to the King, you are not forgotten 🤍✨

MASTERLIST elvis masterlist

elvis presley digital 2025 calendar

[wintfleur]

𓈒 ୭ৎ ˖˙ ᰋ ── JULIETTE LECLERC PROFILE !

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

ꪆ୧ BASICS .ᐟ

name: Juliette Celeste Leclerc 

nicknames:

Julie (everyone) 

Lettie (family and close friends) 

jules (everyone) 

ette (brothers( 

lilo (her best friends) 

juliebug (mat and quinn) 

birthday and zodiac: November 15th 1999, Scorpio

location: Monte Carlo, Monaco (birthplace, current) 

ꪆ୧ ABOUT  .ᐟ

personality: julie has a complex personality, some say it resembled an onion; you have to pull back the layers before truly understanding her. The media and new people assume that she's cold, and honestly a bitch just because they truly don't know her. But in reality, she's honestly a very sweet person, she is on the quiet side, she's very confident in herself and her beliefs. She is very charming, charismatic, and flirty! When she's around the people she's comfortable with, she can be a little bubbly and giggily (mostly with mat and quinn). She has a very dry humor but it honestly just makes people love her more! Can be very sarcastic at times, is witty 

good traits: determined, loyal, hard-working, honest and loyal, protective of her family and friends, trustful, doesn't take shit from anyone 

bad traits: very self critical, can be too bold, brutal at times, distances herself when she's overwhelmed or emotionally hurt, 

quirks: having a resting bitch face, intense eye contact, spaces out when bored, rolls eyes, smiles sarcastically, 

likes: rain, musicals, going to ballets, trying out new restaurants, ranch life, swimming, buying swimsuits, her yacht, spending time with family, hot tubs, sightseeing, 

dislikes: rude and invasive fans, the paparazzi, stalkers, people who disrespect her family or friends, most f1 media, drive to survive, traffic 

hobbies: singing, running, baking, dancing, riding horses, music, hockey, playing tennis and golf, reading, journaling 

fears: being a failure, dying alone 

strengths: how hard-working she is, she never gives up, confident, tactical and her strategy, how smart and witty she is, her quick thinking 

weaknesses: perfectionism, talking about her feelings, self critical, can have a short fuse at times, 

languages spoken: 100% French, 100% English, 100% Korean, 36% Spanish. 

occupation/profession: f1 driver for redbull, singer, model, actress 

ꪆ୧ CAREER !

Profession  f1 driver

Team   Red Bull Racing

Debut Australia 2019

Trainer  Gabriel Guerrero

Race engineer   Théo Beaufoy

Manager  Anya DuPont

Assistant  Beatrice Roux

World championships   1 (2022)

Sponsors  Gucci

ꪆ୧ RELATIONSHIPS  .ᐟ

parents:

Hervé Leclerc 

Pascale Leclerc 

sibling(s):

Lorenzo Leclerc 

Charles Leclerc 

Arthur Leclerc 

best friends: max verstappen. lando norris, george russell, alex albon, hailee steinfeld, shawn mendes, victoria de angelis, lily rose depp

friends: most of the f1 grid, most of quinn and mat’s teammates, jack and luke hughes, ross lynch, zendaya, tom holland, lewis pullman, and many more 

love interest: Mathew Barzal and Quinn hughes 

pet(s): none yet 

ꪆ୧ MORE .ᐟ

scent: she has a large collection of different fragrances, from brand deals, pr, etc. she prefers aromatic fragrances, so she uses mostly Chanel and Gucci perfumes, her most used one is Chanel number 2, it's one of her signature scents!

outfits: it really depends on what she's doing, if it’s a casual day she likes wearing low waisted jeans, corset vest tops, mini skirts, sweaters, sundresses, it really depends! She loves wearing black, reds, and earth tones! She likes adding fishnets, lace and tights to her outfits, long scarfs, jean or leather jackets, she likes wearing blazers, definitely has an office siren aesthetic! She has a lot of clothes and she's always wanting to try something new, and is definitely known for her fantastic outfits! here's a link to her closet! 

accessories:  she loves accessorizing, she loves anything involving fashion really!! She has a large collection of different types of bags and sunglasses(she loves collecting them), they are definitely her favorite thing + jewelry, to accessorize with. She also has quite a lot of hats, mostly ball caps, beanies and berets. She also really loves utilizing long and thin scarves when she's wearing a short skirt or shorts. She also occasionally will wear a headband, heavily inspired by Blair waldorf. In the colder weather she's almost always rocking ear muffs. She absolutely loves wearing bayonetta glasses, she has so many pairs. Honorable mentions are leg and arm warmers. 

jewelry: she's a silver girl!  She loves rings, she usually has about four on at a time, small ones, chunky ones, one with crystals or gems, any type of rings really.  She loves layering necklaces. She also occasionally wears anklets and waist chains, it really depends on her outfit. With bracelets she wears all different types, charm bracelets, friendship bracelets, cuff bracelets, again it really depends on her outfit. 

makeup: isn't really the biggest fan of makeup, she prefers her bare face! She has her own personal makeup artist who does her makeup for her when she goes to events etc. but when she does do her own makeup, she really only does her eyes and lips! She prefers darker eye makeup, red or nude tones for her lips, sharp eyeliner and highlighter! 

scars: none 

sexuality: bisexual 

Height: 5’7

piercing(s): 1 in each ear, bellybutton

tattoo(s): she has this one on her lower back, and this one on her left arm. She wants to get more! 

face claim: Dua Lipa 

ꪆ୧ FAVORITES .ᐟ

food(s): pasta, sweets, almonds, pomegranates, cherries, steak, macaroons

drink(s): cherry coke, water, redbull, hot chocolate, shirley temples 

color(s): black, reds, earth tones 

animal(s): horses, cats, sloths 

bands and artist: måneskin, rihanna, ciara, lady gaga, gwen stefani, the weekend 

show(s): gossip girl, supernatural, game of thrones, criminal minds 

movie(s): the devil wears prada, scooby doo, mamma mia, lotr, twilight, 

person: her mom and younger brother arthur 

ꪆ୧ BACKGROUND  .ᐟ

julie was born on a rainy day in monaco, on november 15th, 1999

julie was a very quiet child, her parents worried that she would have trouble making friends so they put her in ballet when she was 5. 

julie was naturally very talented at ballet and she enjoyed it very much

she started karting when she was 6, still also doing ballet

she started equestrian sports when she was 12 and stopped when she was 15. 

julie quit ballet when she was 17, giving karting/driving all her attention. 

she had her debut in in f1, in 2019 for the team mercedes 

It was a fantastic year, she got four wins and 326 points. 

but she left Mercedes after one year, signing with redbull. 

in 2020 she dropped her first single 

she created her youtube channel in 2020, she now has surpassed 10 million followers 

her modeling career started in 2022, and it instantly kicked off, becoming a very successful and sought after model 

ꪆ୧ FUN FACTS  .ᐟ

Juliette drove for Mercedes in her rookie year, she got four wins and 326 points . . . fans of course were not happy that a female was dominating her rookie year, so of course a nasty rumor was created. The rumor that spread like hot fire was that Juliette was having an inappropriate relationship with Toto Wolff.

Which was false, Toto was like a father figure to Juliette but the fans didn’t care, booing her and trending hate for her on Twitter.

Juliette drove for Redbull for the next season, and is still driving for Redbull.

Juliette is known for being one of the most influential drivers on the grid, for the wide range of her career.

Juliette has dropped a few albums, some singles and ep’s, she’s a model, an ambassador for Gucci, and she has a YouTube channel with over 10 million subscribers, where she posts all different kinds of content, she’s walked on runways.

The interviewers love her (besides a few) a lot of fans say she’s like seb with how she has the habit of flirting with the female interviewers.

She is quite the flirt, confident with herself

She’s a party girl, in a club or on a yacht, she loves her parties !!

A lot of people assume she’s a bitch because of her resting face, her confidence and the way she doesn’t take any shit, but she’s genuinely a sweetheart.

Besides Lewis she is the driver that has the most celebrity friends

No one is surviving eye contact with her, in the words of lando “she has a really strong gaze, very alluring — like a siren yeah”

The amount of dating rumors Lando and Juliette have is insane, but they are simply just best friends !!!

She loves swimming, she loves visiting tropical places

Everyone swears she’s a mermaid/siren for her love of the water

She has stated many times that her favorite sport besides f1 is hockey.

She has been seen coming to many hockey games, even having many friends that are hockey players.  (Trevor Zegras, Cole caufield and more)

She loves baking

She owns several houses all over the world

She is a major passenger princess

SHE IS THE IT GIRL

She hates coffee

She definitely loves going out and partying, but she also loves staying in.

She was such a daddy’s girl

She talks to her mom every single day

She loves and I mean loves running

No matter how hungover she is, she’s always having her morning run.

She loves and I mean loves horses !!

Her dream is to retire, buy her own ranch and just get a ton of horses to take care of and love, maybe her own vineyard.

Her most prized possession is her yacht . . .  That’s crazy to say omg.

She has kept all of her relationships a secret!

She loves doing collaborations

A character she’s most like is Blair waldorf

She’s a very strong woman, but sometimes things really get to her and she just needs space.

She has a bad habit of distancing herself from others when she’s hurt or upset

She’s been to 3 met galas

She will kick anyone’s ass in golf

‘The princess of Monaco’

She is very open about her crush on leighton meester

She’s a switch

She has a great relationship with everyone on the grid !

Her and Pierre have a love hate relationship

She has such a flirty personality, she loves making people flustered.

She’s a fantastic driver, and won’t let anyone tell her different just because she’s a girl.

She has said her grid son is ollie bearman

Yuki loves her sm! They are such a underrated duo

She loves hockey, but she’s a terrible skater

She hates drive to survive, they like to make her and max look like the villain.

She secretly can’t stand one driver on the grid.

She loves sleep sm

She’s genuinely such a family girl

She was the troublemaker of her family

She hates cold feet

Her brother’s friends have always had a crush on her and she loved teasing them about it.

She keeps her music taste a secret from the public

Lewis will always have her back no matter what, she’s his grid kid.

The public goes crazy for post race Juliette

She loves her team, she’s extremely close to all of them !!

She alternates from black to red hair a lot, but her hair is very healthy !!!

Doesn’t go anywhere without a pair of sunglasses

Macaroons are the way to her heart

A lot of people get surprised by how friendly she is

She loves game of thrones

She is not a lightweight

Is a really good dancer !! Did ballet for a long time

Low waisted pants are her best friend.

The only one who can rock Jorts

Always has red or black nails

She’s a silver girly

her instagram is @/JulietteLeclerc

Has a private Instagram ‘@/lettiesworld’

°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lovings4turn )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( so this is the introduction to juliette !! I really hope you guys like her, omg I’m so excited for this AU !!! I didn’t mention Mat and Quinn because they will have their own profile !!! Oh I’m so excited, please let me know what you guys think !!! )

©️WINTFLEUR

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin���?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

[townpostin]

Jugsalai Speed Breaker Replacement Causes Traffic Chaos

New higher speed breaker installed after contentious one removed The removal of a controversial speed breaker near Tata Steel’s power house gate in Jugsalai leads to severe traffic disruption. JAMSHEDPUR – A contentious speed breaker in Jugsalai was removed on Saturday afternoon, only to be replaced by a higher one, causing significant traffic congestion. The removal operation, conducted during…

[loveacrosstimes]

The Nurse and the Rancher - Ch. 2

Summary: Claire, a 27-year-old nurse from NYC accidentally gets transported back to California in 1995. There she meets Jamie, a 25-year-old Scot who recently inherited his uncle’s sprawling ranch in St. Helena.

Claire trudged along an undefined path at the edge of town, clumsily retracing her steps. She hoped to stumble back to the dirt road along the forest where she’d fallen through time, away from the hustle and bustle of New York City where everyone was walking with purpose. 

Towards jobs, towards love, towards passions. 

Sometimes, failure and heartbreak.

Either way, time – or the lack thereof – propelled the ebb and flow of foot traffic, helping to move people along on their journeys. 

Here, in Le Cressida, time seemed to meander, chugging along just enough to avoid rousing suspicion, but without enough urgency to produce anything worth getting out of bed for. 

She’d not seen a single soul until she’d managed to find the convenience store nestled unreasonably deep inside of this place that looked like the remains of a dilapidated movie set.  

Le Cressida – the name even sounded fake .

What was undeniably real, however, was the irreparable damage this California dirt was doing to her favorite pair of work shoes. Frank had gotten them after she’d spent months complaining of the way every other pair she’d found seemed impartial to hospital floors – like the cushion and support they were supposed to provide were suggestions .

Now, they were coated in such grime, there wasn’t a washing machine that could salvage them.  And yet, this would be a worthy sacrifice for her if she could just find … this … fucking … trail. 

Pushing out a deep breath, she continued along the path, hoping to snuff out the long, dirt road where the universe had spit her out like yesterday’s trash. It’d seemed long and unforgiving at the time, sprawled out in front of her like a looming side quest, relishing in her arduous journey ahead. 

Now that she needed it, it was nowhere to be found. 

In hindsight, a map would’ve been a better investment than a newspaper – but beggars couldn’t be choosers.   

At least the sun wasn’t quite as vicious as when she’d arrived. A thin layer of clouds had gathered in the sky, blocking just enough heat and UV rays to provide her with a little bit of relief.

Walking several more hundred yards, Claire eventually ran out of trees, arriving to the edge of a wooden fence. She stopped, trying to remember if she’d passed one during her earlier trek into town. She didn’t immediately place it but kept walking until she realized what the fence was enshrouding: a modest bungalow that had seen much better days. 

Worry rose where relief should’ve settled. There was no way she’d have passed this house and not remembered, or stopped to seek help, which meant that she’d somehow turned a wrong corner on her way back. She turned backwards, peering back over her journey, unsure where she’d gone wrong, a gnawing feeling building in her stomach.

If she couldn’t find the spot she’d somehow fallen through, how could she ever get back home? Granted, she hadn’t exactly figured out the logistics of a plan, but getting back to the spot was the first step to reversing this mind-boggling situation she’d found herself in.

With a loud sigh, she resigned her gaze upward, noticing that the thin smear of clouds were thickening and darkening before her very eyes. At this rate, she only had a few hours of daylight left – even less if a storm rolled in. 

“Just what I need," she huffed.

Grabbing at the fence, Clair hoisted herself up backwards to give herself a better view of the area. Other than the house, carved amid the shrubbery, there was nothing other than thick trees stretching in both directions. 

She bent down and planted one hand on top of the fence to steady herself as she hopped back down onto the ground. 

Claire sunk into the fence, allowing the thick, splintery wood to support her for a spell. As a nurse, she was used to being on her feet, but not while traversing an unfamiliar state in an unfamiliar time, in godforsaken heat. 

If she didn’t get out of the elements, she’d eventually collapse from exhaustion.

Pressing a hand into her face, Claire blinked rapidly, hoping that if she did it enough times, she'd wake up from what had to be a dream. It had to be. Because if it wasn't, she was simply a woman out of time with no means of providing for herself, or letting her loved ones know she was okay. 

Loved ones. What loved ones. Frank was all but five years old in 1995, and still living in Germany, where his father was stationed in the army.

Meanwhile, her mother, Julia Beauchamp, hadn't even met her father yet -- in this timeline. But even if she had, it's not like she would be the mother she knew in the present or through her childhood. A comforting, level-headed, if not slightly reclusive woman, who occasionally stashed her with her grandmother for days, occasionally weeks, at a time.

Not that she’d minded. Her Grandma Agnes had been the living embodiment of a warm hug in her childhood. 

Gulping, Claire realized that, for the first time in her life, she had no one but herself. The thought burned the inside of her nose, signaling that the tears were on the horizon. But they arrived quicker, heavier than she thought.

“Come on, get it together.” 

Standing upright against the fence, she peered back towards the house.  

From the road, she couldn't tell whether or not it was occupied or abandoned. 

Given her position, she wasn’t sure what the better option would be.  

On the one hand, she needed food, a change of clothes, and a decent place to sleep. But who in their right mind would take in a total stranger? Even if they were crazy enough, that doesn’t mean it’d be a smart decision for her – unless the home just so happened to be occupied by a sweet, little old lady, who thought Claire reminded her of her granddaughter. Someone aching to extend a little maternal affection.

A hot meal, a bath, a place to rest her aching body.

One sleep — that's all she needed. Enough time to come up with a real, viable plan, and figure out how to navigate this town she'd ended up in long enough to find the portal. Enough time to explain to Frank why she didn’t come back home on the night of their anniversary when their marriage was already hanging on by a thread. 

And yet, that was the best-case scenario.

The house could very well belong to someone far less hospitable, who'd only make this journey more difficult for her; who’d ensure that she never had to worry about facing her husband after ghosting him on one of the most important days of their marriage, thus far.

Either way, she had to try. 

Planting her hands into the fence, Claire hoisted herself up once more, just as she heard a car approaching down the dirt road. Well, less like a car and more like a black, mechanical whale, choking on the dry, California air. 

It sputtered along the trail, gasping with each inch it gained, surrounded by a dust cloud befitting the dirty kid from Charlie Brown. 

Balancing on top of the fence, Claire glanced back at the home, wondering if she should make herself scarce or if she’d be better off hitching a ride from whoever owned this very loud, very clunky piece of junk.  

Afterall, the house would still be there to explore if they said no. And if they could drop her back off at the point where she’d come through – maybe this wouldn’t end up being the worst anniversary she’d ever had. 

Maybe she wouldn’t have to give Frank another reason to think her heart wasn’t in their marriage. Maybe she’d be able to convince herself .

Claire approached the dirt road, nearly throwing herself in front of the car. 

The old clunker skidded to an ungraceful stop a few feet in front of her. Before the occupants could survey the hurdle in their journey, Claire was approaching the driver’s side.

“What the hell are you doing, lady??” spit out the driver – an upper middle-aged man. There were also two, slightly younger men in the passenger seat and one in the back, too. “We got places to be.” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Claire said, attempting to soothe his rancor, before turning her attention to the other men. “I was wondering if you gentlemen could help a lady out.” 

The man in the passenger seat leaned forward, an unsettling glint in his eye. “Well, that depends on what kind of help a lady needs,” he grumbled in his best attempt at a seductive tone.

The comment garnered a chuckle from the man in the backseat. 

“Hush up, Aaron. You too, Rob,” said the older man.

His tone wiped the smirks from their faces.

“What do you need, ma’am?” He asked. “We’re on a schedule.”

“A ride if you can manage. I was out here doing a house call today, but I’m not familiar with these parts, and I’ve gotten a little turned around.”

He eyed her attire. “You a nurse?” 

“Yeah. For the local hospital … about ten miles out,” she said, remembering that detail about her story from the diner. 

The hospital’s name didn’t surface as easily. 

“Rosedale Medical Center?”

“Y-yeah, that one.” 

He scratched his temple. “That’s a ways off … How’d you get all the way out here without any wheels?”

Oh right . If she was going to keep lying, she had to come up with a story that accounted for these little details that could trip her up – like this.  “Uh, my friend dropped me off this morning,” she said quickly. “They were supposed to pick me up, but never showed up.”

His curious expression resigned into casual acceptance. “Some friend,” he said, humping his shoulders.

“Yeah, well they’re probably swamped at the hospital and haven’t gotten off yet, but as you can see, the weather is turning, and I’m trying to get out of here before the rain comes.” 

That last part was true.

Sucking his teeth, he tilted his head. “I’d like to help you, but 10 miles both ways will set us back too much. And we have a lot of work to do.” 

“That’s okay, actually,” she said quickly. “I’m actually just trying to get about a half mile or so from here to the road near my patient’s house. I kinda got lost and, I want to wait to see if my friend comes back up this way … well, that way,” she said pointing behind her. 

In truth, she was hoping to locate the portal and figure out how to get back through – not that he needed to know that.

She swept her bottom lip into her teeth, hoping that her desperation would sway him. 

It’s not like she had any cash to offer him — that jackass at the diner had made sure of that. 

“And what if they don’t?”

“Well, then I’m no worse off than I am right now, am I?” She said with a sly smile to soften his grumbly exterior. 

“I don’t know …”

“Aww, come on, daddio,” said one man.

“Yeah, the little lady asked nicely,” said the other.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Claire kept her focus on the driver, as he was obviously calling the shots. 

“Okay, I’ll do you one better,” he eventually said. “How about you ride with us over to our place, spend the night there, we’ll drive you back to the hospital in the morning … the whole ten miles.” 

Claire flashed him a panicked smile – there was no way in hell she’d take up shelter with three strange men overnight. “That’s such a generous offer, but I couldn’t impose on you like this.”

“Trust, you wouldn’t be imposing," he said. “Besides, we haven’t had a woman around the house since my wife died a few years back.”

A beat passed before she managed to push a conciliatory message out through her constricting throat. She doubted the feminine energy he was missing was anything she was willing or able to give him. 

“Thanks …” he said dismissively, not noticing – or perhaps caring – about her discomfort. “So what do you say?” 

She smiled politely. “I can’t, really. It’s too much of an ask.”

“Nonsense. Besides, you could earn your stay by whipping us up a quick meal. It’s been ages since we had anything decent to eat.” 

“Hey, I do the best I can,” Aaron retorted, genuinely offended. 

“Hush, boy,” the older man shot back – a reply that set off a back-and-forth between them that curdled her blood. 

The absolute nerve of these men to think that after a long day at work she’d spend her evening cooking for them of all people. Nevermind the fact that she hadn’t actually made it to work – one second she was following a skeletal stray cat into one of the only working phone booths left in NYC, the next she was in hillbilly purgatory – it was still a nonstarter. 

She barely enjoyed cooking for Frank, and she’d be damned if she was going to cook for another man on their anniversary. 

“Gentlemen!” she yelled, cutting through the noise, “As I said, I appreciate the offer, but I really have to get home tonight. My husband is waiting for me, and he’ll have a fit if I don’t turn up.” 

Refusing to wait for their response, and hoping to God that knowing another man had claimed her would be enough to satisfy their archaic sensibilities, Claire straightened her posture, and started back up down the road in the direction she’d come. 

She hoped to hear the exasperated cranking of their car start up, then pass her by on their merry way. 

These men obviously had nothing of value to offer her. And though a ride would’ve been nice, without them, she had time to regroup and maybe find some shelter for the night, since it was becoming clearer she probably wasn’t going to make it back to her home, her time today.

The cranking came, but not quick enough for her. 

As she walked, a car crawled up behind her, but she kept her head forward until she couldn’t ignore their presence.

“What, you’re too good to cook for me and my sons?” Called out the father.

Claire drifted off the dirt road, onto the brushy overgrowth, hoping they’d realize she wasn’t going to bite, but her non response only made them slow down even more. 

“Hey, bitch, my daddy asked you a question!” yelled one of the sons. 

Clasping her arms over her chest, she pivoted to walk into the opposite direction, hoping they’d think she was too much trouble to pursue. But the car cranking down let her know that she wasn’t that lucky.

She quickly glanced back, noting the way the good-for-nothing father watched from the driver’s side. Before she knew it, the sons had exited the vehicle, and were quickly approaching her. 

With no other options, she took off down the road, running as quickly as she could, kicking up dust with every step. It was barely a few seconds before she felt a man's hand yank her backwards by the arm. 

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” She yelled fighting to free herself from his grasp, as the heady laugh of the other brother pierced her eardrums. 

He stood close, watching his brother manhandle her. 

The more she thrashed, the tighter he gripped.

With her other fist, she pounded against his forearm, but it made no difference. So she dug her nails into his arm as hard as she could, drawing flesh and blood underneath the surface, causing him to release a loud, screechy howl. 

For a second she was free, the urge to take off – despite the other brother being mere feet away – strong. But then he whacked her with an angry, vengeful hand, across her shoulder. She fell to the ground with a thud, the approving laughter from the other brother, drowning out her own agonizing cry.

Claire pressed her hands into the ground to stand, the sharp piercing pain in her shoulder causing her to collapse onto her back just as the brother she struck closed in on her. She kicked her feet, attempting to keep him at bay. He absorbed every kick, every thrash, cursing loudly when her foot managed to hit him at the perfect angle.

But that only angered him further. He dropped down onto his knees, using his weight to subdue her. 

“Get off of me, you bastard!”

Unable to fight him off, she grabbed a handful of dirt and grass and threw it into his face, temporarily blinding him and rendering her invisible, as he tried to rid his eyes of the debris. 

Claire balled up her fist and hit him as hard as she could across the face, nearly cracking her knuckles in the process. The man wailed, falling over onto his side, giving her just enough leeway to try to escape. 

But she was immediately kicked back down by the second man, whose casual delight had evolved into rage. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, voice dripping with grisly intent. 

In pain, and worn down from the absolute worst day she’d ever experienced, her body froze into a defensive position, as if it knew that she could never overpower two adult men, especially those with such delicately bruised egos. 

Would this be how she would die? Alone in the middle of Le Cressida, California, 29 years in the past. 

She closed her eyes shut, not wanting them to be the last thing she saw before she met her end. 

For a moment, her mind drifted to Frank, their modern, yet cozy, adorably decorated apartment just outside of the city. Their wedding day. Her parents. The babies in the neonatal unit who depended on her. All the wonderful things this life had blessed her with. 

Yes, that’s how she’d go out – focusing on the goo — arggghh . A firm hand around Claire's neck ripped her from her thoughts, back into the present

She gasped, flailing as she fought to take a clear breath until the weight of the other brother’s body cemented her arms to her side. 

“One meal – that’s all you had to agree too. But no, you thought you were too good! Not you’re gonna p–”

BANG!!!!

A deafening sound exploded behind them, piercing her eardrums, and, when mixed with her depleted oxygen, made her head spin. The only thing that kept her lucid was seeing the man's face shift from nefarious delight into bright white terror.

And then she heard it...

“You, you, step away from the lass! ” yelled out a distinctively familiar, comforting. voice. 

Firm, commanding, imbued with a heavy, Scottish accent... 

Note: I hope you enjoy! Also, I updated on AO3 as well.

[watchyourbuck]

wip wednesday ★

tagged by @dadbodbuck @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @loveyouanyway @cal-daisies-and-briars @bidisasterevankinard & @diazheartsbuckley thank you!✨

here’s a little snippet from the presumed dead!Buck and cardio surgeon!Eddie fic! prompt in this post <3

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Eddie managed to get his jacket off, handing it to Khan, his intern for the night—a young boy, possibly not over twenty-five, top of his class. He vaguely reminded him of Ravi, which unconsciously made him root for him. “Traffic,” he said absentmindedly, grabbing the iPad she was offering and passing it to Khan. “Talk to me,” he ordered, walking past her and towards the elevator, with his intern following suit.

“Male John Doe, approximately 45 years old,” Khan started, holding the digital chart but reciting from memory. Eddie pressed the OR floor button and waited for the elevator doors to close. “Stumbled into the ER confused and disoriented, then collapsed. He arrested on the floor. Dr. Pembroke initiated CPR immediately. Patient was down for two minutes, then he was defibrillated. He was showing signs of acute liver failure, so he was taken to the OR for emergency surgery.”

Eddie shook his head, hands on his hips. “I’m guessing Pembroke is there right now, isn’t he? Doing whatever he wants, as usual?”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

tagging in return @diazsdimples @neverevan @spagheddiediaz @queerdiazs @your-catfish-friend @tizniz @wikiangela @firefighterevandiaz @devirnis @bigfootsmom @jesuisici33 @monsterrae1 @exhuastedpigeon @giddyupbuck @eowon @kitteneddiediaz @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @saybiwithme @wildlife4life @lover-of-mine (let me know if you wish to be added or removed)

[fel-09]

Male! Miranda priestlyx reader

Words 1.8к

Miranda in fanfics is called -miran

At work for the devil Part 1

Part 2?

Being late was always a source of discomfort, but it became infinitely worse when your career hung in the balance. And nothing could feel more humiliating than arriving at work without having the time to dress properly, to present yourself in the polished, ideal manner expected by those who judged the outer world by what it wore.

One could reassure themselves that it wasn’t the end of the world, but this wasn’t the case when your entire job revolved around the appearance of others, when you were expected to be the very definition of refinement and grace. The situation grew even more dire when your taxi, the last thread of hope to reach the office on time, became an unwilling part of the city's stagnant traffic, merging with a sea of unmoving cars. The idle hum of the engine was maddening, each passing second a reminder of your impending failure.

You could feel your patience thinning, the weight of stress pressing in from all sides. With a frustrated tug at your hair, you finally made up your mind — there was no time left to wait.

“I’ll get out here, I’m late,” you told the driver, thrusting a few dollars into his hand as though they could pay for the disaster unfolding.

Grabbing your belongings, you scrambled out of the car, the weight of your bag pulling you down as you stumbled down the sidewalk. You barely managed to keep your footing, each step a battle against gravity as your mind buzzed with anxiety, the tension in your chest a constant reminder that this was not the first stressful moment of the day.

You practically burst through the office doors, the sound of them slamming against the wall echoing throughout the room. Taking a quick breath, you tried to smooth your hair, tucking the stray strands behind your ear. As you lifted your eyes, the room fell into a strange, unsettling silence. The hum of office work died down, replaced by stares — confused, judgmental, even disapproving.

But amidst the sea of gazes, there was one that stood out.

Miran.

He sat at his desk, an epitome of perfection. His long, slightly unruly hair, the suit that hugged his frame as if it had been custom-made for him, and the scent of his cologne that subtly yet powerfully filled the air — all of him seemed to exist in an entirely different realm. A realm where perfection was not a goal, but a prerequisite.

His cold gaze fixed on you, as though peeling you apart with the sheer sharpness of his eyes. He did not even make an attempt to hide his judgment, the disdain he felt for your appearance practically radiating off of him. His look wasn’t one of surprise — it was one of disdain. A slow, deliberate sweep of his eyes over you, as though he were inspecting an object unworthy of his time.

"You…" he started, his voice cool and detached, as if he were trying to make sense of a bizarre puzzle. “You have some nerve, don’t you, to walk in here looking like that?”

His finger pointed in your direction, tracing the line of your outfit, and you felt the sting of his words settle deep within you, like ice freezing over your chest.

“Alright,” he continued, the faintest smirk curving his lips as he adjusted his glasses with a motion that exuded both superiority and disdain, “I was about to say something, but I’ll spare you the effort of trying to speak — close your mouth and get out. I’ll talk to you later.”

Your mouth hung open for a moment, your mind reeling, but before you could gather your thoughts, Miran had already turned back to his team, the conversation shifting effortlessly to fabrics and cuts. He ignored you entirely, as though your presence was not even worthy of a moment’s pause.

There was no fight left in you. With what little dignity you could muster, you turned on your heel and exited the room. Your breath was heavy, but you refused to let your emotions take control. Out in the hallway, you collapsed onto the couch, your head hanging in defeat as you stared at your hands, lost in a whirl of frustration and self-loathing.

Time passed. An hour. Another. The weight of the silence grew heavier with each passing minute, and the feeling of being forgotten took root deep inside your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was the passage of time or the tension in the air that was making you feel like a ghost, overlooked and unseen. But then, the door creaked open, and the assistant’s face appeared, her expression curt.

“You can go in now,” she said, her voice short and devoid of any empathy.

You stood, an unsettling mix of emotions churning in your stomach, your heart racing with irritation. The waiting had been unbearable. Why had you been forced to sit there, forgotten, as if you were invisible?

Stepping into the office, you kept your posture straight, trying to mask the turmoil bubbling beneath the surface. The room was a stark contrast to the dimly lit hallway — vast and imposing, with high ceilings and towering windows that let in streams of cold, morning sunlight. Bookshelves lined the walls, brimming with volumes of knowledge and taste. The atmosphere was as immaculate as Miran himself, each object placed with meticulous care, as though it too reflected his unyielding standards.

He stood by the window, his arms crossed over his chest, gazing out at the city below. His figure was bathed in the light, a silhouette of calculated indifference. The moment you entered, you could feel the weight of his disapproval press down on you, like a force you couldn’t escape.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice cold but sharp, as he turned just enough to look at you. His expression remained a perfect mask of detachment, his lips curled in a faint, almost imperceptible sneer.

You obeyed, your nerves crawling beneath your skin, and sat stiffly in the chair, which felt unforgiving beneath you. The discomfort was almost intentional, as though even the furniture sought to remind you of your inadequacy in this space.

“So,” he began, his eyes never leaving you as he finally allowed his gaze to move from the city skyline to your face. “You think you can work here?”

It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. The weight of it made your chest tighten. His words were not just harsh; they were an indictment.

“You’ve shown potential, but potential means nothing without the appearance to match. Do you understand?” he asked, his voice like a scalpel slicing through the air. “You look like you just stumbled out of a train wreck.”

The sting of his words landed squarely in your chest, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “It’s temporary. I’ve just moved, and I don’t have proper clothes yet,” you said, your voice firm despite the tremor running through your body.

Miran’s eyes flickered with a glint of something — amusement? — but he didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, he just stared at you, as if measuring the depth of your defiance.

“Well,” he said at last, his voice cool again, “let’s not kid ourselves. One mistake, and you’ll be out the door just as fast as you came in.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he indicated that the conversation was over. You stood, nodding briefly before making your way toward the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he called out, just as you reached the handle. “Buy yourself something appropriate. This is a place for people who understand what it means to look the part.”

You clicked your tongue, silently cursing under your breath as you left the room, the sound of your shoes echoing in the now-empty corridor. Back at your desk, the office buzzed with activity, everyone scrambling to please him, to deliver what he wanted before he even asked for it. You weren’t immune to it, either. Soon, you found yourself fielding calls, printing documents, fetching coffee, and even polishing his shoes as per his seemingly random requests. Each task was a test of patience, each call more pointless than the last, and each hour stretched into an endless loop of irritation.

By the time you returned home, exhausted and ready to collapse into bed, your phone rang. You cursed softly under your breath, rolling your eyes.

“Damn it,” you muttered, grabbing the phone.

“Hello, Miran. How can I help you this time?”

_____

Don't ask why I wrote this, I had to do this.

[elle-p]

Persona 3 timeline before the events of the game.

The distant past

A star eater(later named Nyx) crashes into Earth. Her body becomes the moon and fragments of it fall as Plumes of Dusk. Her psyche gets sealed inside of rapidly evoving creatues, creating the Collective Unconciousness and putting a limit on their lifespans.

???

The leader of the Kirijo Group, Kouetsu Kirijo, finds a Plume of Dusk, sparking his interest in finding out about Shadows. He plans to use their power to create a time machine.

The Kirijo Groups excavates documents of the times in history the Fall almost happened.

1989-1990(1982?)

The Kirijo Group establishes Gekkoukan High School.

1991

5/8: Mitsuru Kirijo is born.

8/11: Shinjiro Aragaki is born.

9/22: Akihiko Sanada is born.

1992

10/9: Yukari Takeba is born.

1992-3

?/5: Hero is born.

1993

1/16: Junpei Iori is born

12/23: Fuuka Yamagishi is born.

1991-1994

Akihiko Sanada's parents both die. He and his sister Miki are taken in to an orphanage.

Akihiko Sanada and Shinjiro Aragaki become good friends.

1992-1995(1 year after previous)

Both Akihiko Sanada and Miki are about to be adopted by a wealthy family.

The orphanage catches fire. Miki doesn't survive.

Akihiko Sanada gets adopted.

1995

The power supply in Iwatodai gets expanded.

The Kirijo Group establishes the Ergonomics research lab to study Shadows.

Eiichiro Takeba is appointed head researcher of the project.

The Maiyodo antiques shop owner joins the project, analysing the documents.

???

The Cathedral of Time is developed to dispose of uncontrollable Shadows.

Anti-Shadow weapons start development.

1997-1998

Kouetsu Kirijo's goal becomes to create Death to enact the Fall.

The antiques shop owner leaves the project.

1998

6/24: Ken Amada is born.

1999

4/20: 5th generation anti-Shadow weapon Labrys is first activated.

2000

9/10: 7th generation anti-Shadow weapon Aigis is first activated.

2/?: Work is started on the 7th generation anti-Shadow weapon Aigis.

3/7: The Moonlight Bridge opening ceremony.

The project to create Death is interrupted by Eiichiro Takeba, splintering it into 13 pieces.

Tartarus and the Dark Hour are created.

Aigis and Death fight on the Moonlight Bridge, and Death is sealed inside of Hero.

???

Takeharu Kirijo becomes the head of the Kirijo Group.

Shuji Ikutsuki uses the chaos of the incident to rise up the ranks of the Kirijo Group.

Shuji Ikutsuki becomes the chairman of Gekkoukan.

2001-2002

Mitsuru Kirijo summons a Persona, becoming the first example of a human Persona user the Kirijo Group has.

???

Shuji Ikutsuki secretly conducts research on children(including Mitsuru) to try and get more Persona users. Some of the results of these experiments are the evoker, Persona surpressants, and Theurgy.

Three of the children manage to escape.

The experiments are deemed a failure, and the children that are still alive are sent to explore Tartarus.

???

Kurosawa attempts to investigate the incident, delving in too deep.

Kurosawa is assigned to Iwatodai, and investigates the orphanage fire.

???

A hotel is rennovated into a dorm for combating Shadows.

2007

4/?: Akihiko Sanada, Mitsuru Kirijo, and Shinjiro Aragaki enroll in Gekkoukan High School.

The Specialised Extracurricular Execution Squad is formed.

10/4: Shinjiro Aragaki's Persona kills Ken Amada's mother. It's covered up as a traffic accident.

Shinjiro Aragaki leaves SEES.

Sources:

Persona 3 Reload

Persona Club P3

Persona 3 FES Official Fanbook

Persona 3 Portable 100 Mysteries

[callsign-mongoose]

Old Fashioned Phone Numbers

Pairing: Jake Sersin x Reader (No Description or use of Y/N)

Warning: +18 MDNI, Mostly fluff, Lying? If you can call it that, Enuendos, Cowboy Jake, Let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: ~1.8k

a/n: This is my first official posted fanfic! Yayyyy! I'm so excited! I hope to be posting more in the future. Feel free to message me on my profile about ideas or characters you'd love to see. I love to write and am trying my best to branch out.

Prompt:

"Your Pretty I'll give you that." "How Gracious."

This was based on a writing prompt I found, by @creativepromptsforwriting

Summary: Bradley got fed up with Jakes cockiness and made a bet, that he couldn't get your phone number. Your just Natashas friend, but in order to help out a friend's friend with the bet, you play hard to get.

Maybe it was your track record recently of crashing and burning with dates, or just because she had asked, but Natasha had managed to get you to come with her to the bar. It wasn’t your scene but she made it sound like something interesting was going to go down with her friend group so you decided to go anyway.  

Standing by the doorway you scanned around until your eyes landed on Natasha standing by the piano. Walking over you placed a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, sorry I’m late, traffic.”

“No worries, glad you decided to come.” She tossed a glance at the man who sat at the piano who gave her an immediate nod before nodding his head away from the group. His fingers started to tickle the keys and Nat took the opportunity to drag you to the other side of the bar, hiding near the hallway to the bathroom. “We need you for something, a mission, kinda. So Rooster, my friend at the piano over there, made a bet with one of the guys in our squadron.”

You already didn’t like the sound of this. “Natasha, why do I have the gut feeling that you are going to set me up for failure?”

“No no no, it’s not you that we are setting up for failure, it’s him. Basically, Bagman was telling Coyote about the girl he bagged a couple nights ago, his ego is getting the best of him and he is under the impression he can get any girls number.” She paused and peaked around the corner scanning the crowd for a long moment to assure herself that jake wasn’t there yet. “That’s where you come in, Rooster made a bet with him that he couldn’t pick up any girl, and Hangman became so confident that he even said rooster could pick the girl. Do you get where I’m going with this?”

It dawned on you, you were bait for this cocky fly boy to fail on. “That’s why you were so intent on me joining you guys tonight? Nat I’m not sure…”

“Come on, rooster said he’d give you the $50 bucks that Hangman bet on it. He just wants to see him be put in his place. Plus you said it yourself, you need flirting practice.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. You had no experience flirting what so ever, your past experience included literally handing a guy a note and then leaving the building entirely. This would give you a controlled environment to experiment, crash and burn safely without being rejected, because this guy really was trying to get your number. “Fine. I’ll do it, only if you promise to tell him after the money is exchanged. I don’t want to look like a total asshole. I like this bar and if I keep coming back I don’t want everyone to think I’m rude.”  

Natasha nodded eagerly before rummaging through her pocket, pulling out a tube of lipstick she pulled the lid off “Perfect, now sit still.” The ruby red lipstick sat on your lips as she stepped back. “Perfect. Alright come with me.” 

Grabbing your arm Natasha dragged you back towards the bar, positioning you on the far end waving over the bartender who spoke up as she neared, “Who’s this Nat? What can I get you two?”

“Hey Penny, just one of my friends from town, we will take two beers please, just add them to my tab.”

Two cold bottles clacking on the wooden surface you bring one of them to your lips. “Thanks Nat… Let’s get this party started.”  

Nat made eye contact with Bradley across the bar and gave him a nod which seemed to put the plan in motion. Walking over to Jake who was half bent over the pool table, “Bagman”

“Yo” He stood up handing his stick to Javy as he walked towards Bradley.

“You prepared for the bet?”

“You know it, who’s the mark?”

Bradleys eyes scanned the bar until his eyes landed on you and Natasha, “Her, the one next to Natasha”.

Jake seemingly nodded and without another word started to cross the floor, his demeanor changed, no more cocky aviator on the prowl, he put on a sweet smile and cleared his throat. Jake had a tendency to rely on his Texan roots when it came to women. After all… who didn’t love a good old American cowboy.

Nat glanced at Bradley and patted your shoulder “Kaki uniform, he’s coming this way. I’ll be over with Bradley, don’t give in, and break a leg.”  

You directed your eyes down to the condensation now starting to gather on the outside of the beer bottle, wiping it idly with your thumb. The tall figure slid up next to you and leaned against the bar signaling another beer from penny.

“Well howdy t-“

“No.”

Adamantly you jumped on the opportunity to turn him down rather fast, didn’t even let him get the first sentence out. He was handsome, it wasn’t exactly a secret either. Strong jawline, confident smile, broad shoulders, and his damn uniform hugged his biceps making them look like tree trunks even if he was just flexing.

Jake took a half second to regroup tilting his head to the side looking to you with a smirk. “What’s the matter, sugar? All your exes come from Texas?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “How long has that one been waiting to come out.”

Jake grinned seeing a final opening that he could grab a hold of. “It’s been at the top of my list, much like you are tonight.. I promise, I’m real old fashioned, love to take my time with things.”

He was quick on his feet, something you could appreciate. After a moment you rolled your eyes, “You should probably find a better list then. For the record, in my experience, Texas is just full of Cows and Shit.”  

A game. Hangman loved a good game, his goal now was just to figure out what game you were playing.

“Come on now Darlin’. Your gonna hurt my feelings.”

His lips curled into a smirk on either side, his eyes dancing around your face. Perhaps it was the game of chase, or maybe just your responses, but he was finding himself wanting more than just your number.

“Aww poor cowboy, how are you ever gonna recover from this.” You reached up and tussled his hair which he swatted your hand away from

“Hey hey the hair is off limits… unless you wanna come back to my place and I can make sure you pull it all night screaming.” He gave you a playful wink, half trying to read your reaction to see if there was any interest. 

“Mmmm well go put your cowboy hat on someone else, your buckle ain’t that shiny.”

He was drooling practically, leaning more against the bar now than his own feet. He didn’t trust them to hold him up. Penny walked over placing down the beer infront of Jake. She took a look at Jake then turned to you.

“Is this guy bothering you sweetheart?” She asked looking at you before reaching for the bell rope, it was a tease but Jake took the hint putting his hands up in defeat. He much rather give Rooster 50 bucks than buy rounds for everyone in the bar.

“I’m goin’ Penny, im goin’.”

Taking one more half playful half longing glance at you he smiled and that’s when you spoke up,

“You are pretty, I’ll give you that.”

Honestly, you were hoping to draw his interest enough to talk to you another time. Instead of another bite at the bare he gave you a tip of his imaginary hat.

“How gracious.” 

Bradley handed the $50 to you about 20 minuets later.

“The look on his face was priceless, I swear he looked like a lost puppy.” He was laughing with a couple of the others, Jake had since been over in the corner with Coyote, playing darts and licking his wounds.

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, “I think I’m gonna close out my tab and head home Nat, it was fun, thanks for inviting me.”

“No problem, thanks for the assistance.” 

As you made your way towards the door you made eye contact with a pair of dull green eyes, not as vibrant as when they had met with yours just 30 minuets earlier. Giving him a small smile you nodded towards the door, a last ditch effort to see if you could right the wrongs Rooster had made.

Walking out into the parking lot, you found a seat on the front steps. After about 5 minuets you wondered if he even wanted to talk to you again, pushing yourself up, you pulled out your keys.

“I was wondern’ if you meant me or some other guy in there.” Jake made his way down the stairs of the bar for a moment lingering on the last step. “Do you make it a habit of contuinally turning people down then trying to lure them outside?” he asked watching your facial expressions, attempting to read you like a book.

Producing the $50 from your pocket you held it out to him.

“This is yours.”

“What?”

“Rooster told me about the bet. Said if he won I could have the $50 bucks.”  

Jakes face fell, caught in the act, played by his own game.

“Oh… um, you can keep it. I don’t deserve it anyway, I still lost.”

Well here goes nothing, you took a quick breath, “No take it, you can buy me dinner with it on Friday.”

Your breathing stilled for a long moment, hopefully he got your drift. Maybe you messed it up too much to recover from. Glancing out towards the parking lot you tried to gage how far your car was, wondering if you could make it there before he noticed.

“I- dinner, Friday, this Friday.” He repeated slowly taking the $50. “That sounds like a good deal, how about the itialian restaurant down on 8th ave. They’ve got real good food and I heard their dessert is incredible… though I can think of another thing I’d arguably like more for dessert.” His wicked grin had reappeared on his face.

“Slow down cowboy, it’s just dinner.” You sighed moving forward you placed a kiss to his cheek before turning to walk to your car.  

“Wait!” Jake followed behind you grabbing your hand to turn you back towards him. “I don’t have your number. How am I supposed to contact you?”

A grin appeared on your lips. “I told the others I wouldn’t give you my number… I guess you’ll just gonna have to get creative, you said you were old fashioned right? Start there.” You winked turning on the ball of your foot to walk towards your car.

This time jake didn’t stop you, just stood there dumbfounded holding the 50 dollar bill in his hand. No way he would be spending that bill on dinner, that was gonna be saved… shit he had to go find a phone book or something.

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a/n: Thank you so much to everyone who read it all the way through! Feel free to comment and like and repost! I love writing but as much as I know I do it for myself, I am (to quote a friend) "a parking ticket and need validation."

Additionally thank @sarahsmi13s and @callsignthirsty for helping me with cowboy Jake!!