#we’re already understaffed

[crazypantsjewels]

Been sick for almost a week and have missed three going on four days of work. When will this nightmare end?

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

Just read a post about how you shouldn’t trust a doctor who rushes you and like, yes I fully understand the frustration, so here’s what you can do to stop yourself being rushed:

-ask for a double appointment

-ask for a triple appointment

-fuck it ask for an hour long appointment if you think it’ll help

-be outright about what you want/need from an appointment. If you need more time to process information, say that. If you need the doctor to write out all information, say that. If you have a complex case/long history, say that!

-list all the reasons why you want to see the doctor/vet that day and please don’t sugar coat it. “Been vomiting” is a ten minute fix. “Been vomiting after every meal for the past two years” is not. It needs a double appointment and possibly a referral too.

Doctors and vets are overworked to fuck and exploited to hell. Help us out a little, please

[lesbianboyfriend]

i feel crazyyy my director is like “remember we have tuesday night rehearsal this week” that’s literally not on the syllabus whennn did this happen.

[whxlmedwing]

Don’t get promotions they suck actually

[stuckontheceiling]

I shoulda put my two weeks in ages ago

[ladydreilgard]

Cannot even begin to describe how badly I want to just. Not go to work tomorrow. This pharmacy is such a fucking joke.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Intern”~ pt. 1 Max Verstappen x reader

Disclaimer: Reader doesn’t have to be blonde! The images is just to show she’s working for the team!

Warnings: degrading? Mean max.

Summary: The series follows Y/N, a fresh and slightly timid media intern for the Red Bull Racing team, who is thrown into the chaotic, high-stakes world of Formula 1. Her job quickly becomes challenging not only because of the high-pressure environment but because of Max Verstappen, the star driver with a talent for making her feel small and flustered. Max’s arrogance and relentless teasing leave her feeling out of her depth, yet strangely captivated. Despite his condescending demeanor, there’s an undeniable pull between them, a tension that seems to simmer just beneath the surface.

I sit quietly in the corner of the motorhome, tapping nervously on my phone as I check my messages. The whole atmosphere here is intimidating, even more so when Max Verstappen and Checo stroll in, laughing at some private joke. Their easy confidence is almost tangible, filling the room with a sense of belonging I can only hope to someday feel.

Max’s eyes land on me for a split second, and I quickly look away, pretending to be engrossed in a message from my boss, Adam. I can feel my cheeks heat up just from that brief eye contact. It’s silly, but he’s… well, he’s Max Verstappen. There’s something intimidating in the way he looks at people, like he’s sizing them up and finding them lacking. And, of course, I’m not immune to his scrutiny.

The only time he’s spoken to me before, he’d made a throwaway comment that left me red-faced. He wasn’t even trying to be mean—it just slipped out, something about me “looking lost.” The memory of my blush and his faint smirk is still fresh, and I can’t seem to shake it.

My phone buzzes with a message from Adam: Can you come to Meeting Room 3 ASAP?

With a deep breath, I make my way to the meeting room, hoping Adam’s request isn’t something beyond my skill level. When I arrive, he looks a bit frazzled, glancing up from his stack of papers with an apologetic smile.

“Y/N, I know you’re still new, and I haven’t had the chance to train you properly…” he starts, running a hand through his hair. “But we’re short-staffed this weekend, so I need you to help the media team cover for the missing people. Think you’re up for it?”

I swallow hard, my nerves tightening at the idea of being around Max and the rest of the drivers more than I already have been. But I don’t want to let Adam down; he’s been nothing but encouraging since I started, always pushing me to do better, to learn more. It’s why I like him so much as a boss.

“Of course, Adam,” I reply, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “What do you need me to do?”

He hands me a tablet and goes over the details. My main job will be to record the drivers’ answers during interviews, ensuring we have accurate records. I’ll also assist Andrew with media release forms. It’s straightforward, but the thought of messing up in front of Max makes my stomach churn.

Later in the day, Adam decides it’s time for a proper introduction. He drags me into the garage, where Max is leaning against one of the cars, arms folded as he talks with a mechanic. When he sees us approaching, he raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he already knows I’m way out of my league.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Adam says cheerfully. “She’s helping us out with the media coverage this weekend. We’re a bit understaffed, so she’ll be shadowing you a lot.”

Max looks me up and down, his gaze almost clinical, as if he’s evaluating whether I’ll be a help or a hindrance. He smiles, but it’s the polite kind—the one people give when they’re forced to interact with someone they don’t particularly care about.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, offering a brief nod. “So, they haven’t trained you yet, huh?”

My cheeks flush, and I look away, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. There’s something so arrogant about him, the way he stands there, completely sure of himself. Why does he have to be like this? He’s just a driver, after all. A very talented one, sure, but still just a person. But his energy—the way he carries himself—makes it clear he’s used to people fawning over him.

“Not yet,” I reply, managing to keep my voice steady.

He just chuckles, clearly amused. “Well, I’ll break you in.” He says quietly enough for me to hear.

What? What did he just- I blink and smile at him.

A few hours later, we’re on our way to the media pen after qualifying. I’m clutching the tablet tightly, going over my mental checklist to make sure I have everything. Just as we reach the interview area, I realize with a sickening jolt that I’ve left the team phone back in the motorhome.

I take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment already creeping up my cheeks. “Um… Max?” I ask hesitantly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you mind waiting a minute?”

He looks at me, eyebrow raised, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You forgot the phone, didn’t you?” he says, not even bothering to hide his smirk. “Let me guess—you didn’t think you’d need it?”

I nod, my cheeks heating up further, and I try to apologize. “I’m sorry, it won’t take long—”

“Oh, don’t worry, intern,” he says, emphasizing the title like it’s an insult. “I know you’re new, but I figured you’d be a bit smarter than that. Or is this your way of making sure I remember your name?”

His tone is light, but the words sting. I try to laugh it off, but it comes out more like a nervous squeak. “It’s just… I thought I had everything.”

He leans closer, making me meet his gaze, his expression full of condescension. “Don’t look so nervous. I’m asking you a question,” he says slowly, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable I am.

“I… I know. I just—”

“Didn’t think?” he cuts me off, chuckling to himself. “It’s fine. Go on, intern. Fetch the phone. I’ll wait here, seeing as you’re so eager to do a good job.”

I nod and practically sprint back to the motorhome, my mind racing. By the time I return with the phone, my cheeks are still burning, and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s pleased with himself.

During the interviews, I focus on recording Max’s answers, refusing to make eye contact. I can feel him glancing at me every few moments, as if he’s waiting for me to make another mistake, something else he can latch onto. But I keep my head down, determined to finish this task without another hitch.

Later that day, Adam calls me aside, a slight frown on his face as he glances at a form in his hands. “Y/N, I need Max’s signature on this media release form. Looks like you forgot to get it earlier.”

I feel my heart sink. Another mistake. Another opportunity for Max to remind me just how out of place I am here. Swallowing my pride, I head to his driver’s room, my hands shaking slightly as I knock on the door.

“Come in,” he calls, sounding a bit exasperated.

I step inside, holding the form and pen. He’s lounging on a chair, scrolling through his phone, barely sparing me a glance. “Um, Max… I just need you to sign this release form.”

He finally looks up, an infuriatingly smug smile on his face. “Intern, I thought we went over this,” he says, leaning back with a mock sigh. “Didn’t I tell you earlier to get it all done at once?”

“I… I’m sorry. I just—”

“Forgot. Again,” he interrupts, looking like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. “Is this going to be a habit with you? Or should I expect you to keep knocking on my door every five minutes?”

I can feel the embarrassment flooding my cheeks, but I hold out the paper and pen, refusing to let him see how much his words sting. “It won’t happen again,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

He takes the form from me, signing it with a flourish, but not before giving me one last smirk. “Let’s hope not. I don’t have time to babysit, intern.” he says, clearly enjoying himself.

He doesn’t hand the form back to me. Instead, he holds onto it, his fingers curling around the edges, teasing me as I reach out, waiting for him to relinquish it. But he makes no move to do so. His smirk only widens, and I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach.

“Maybe,” he begins, his tone dripping with mock thoughtfulness, “maybe I shouldn’t give it back to you. Maybe you should learn from your mistakes.” He pauses, watching as I grow visibly more uncomfortable under his scrutiny. And then, with a single, swift movement, he crumples the paper in his fist.

My mouth falls open in shock, and he raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased with himself.

“Do you need a babysitter, Y/N?” he taunts, his voice soft but laced with condescension. “Is that what you’re asking for? Because that’s what it looks like to me. Someone to hold your hand, make sure you don’t make any more silly mistakes.”

His words sting, each one hitting me like a small slap to my pride. I can feel frustration bubbling up inside me, the urge to snap back at him nearly overwhelming. But I bite my tongue, swallowing the retort building in my throat. I can’t risk my job, no matter how badly I want to put him in his place.

Instead, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “No… I’m sorry,” I mumble, trying to keep any hint of annoyance out of my voice. It takes everything I have not to glare at him, but I keep my expression as neutral as possible.

Max’s smirk only grows at my response. He seems to revel in my discomfort, enjoying every second of this little power play. He lets the crumpled paper fall from his hand, watching it drift to the floor near his feet. “If you’re so sorry,” he says, gesturing to the paper on the ground, “then pick it up and make it work. I’m sure a little crease won’t stop an intern like you, right?”

I hesitate for a moment, the indignation flaring up again, but I bite it back. He’s baiting me, waiting for me to snap so he has another reason to belittle me. So, without another word, I crouch down, reaching for the paper that lies just near his feet. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, that smug satisfaction radiating off him as I pick up the wrinkled form and straighten back up, clutching it tightly.

I want to say something, to tell him off, to make him realize how unbearable he’s being. But all I do is nod, the words caught in my throat as I straighten the paper as best I can. Max watches me, one eyebrow raised in clear amusement, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Say thank you,” he commands, his tone soft but dripping with authority.

I clench my jaw, every fiber of my being resisting the urge to roll my eyes. But I know better. I swallow my pride, forcing myself to look up at him, though the words feel heavy on my tongue. “Thank you,” I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He tilts his head, that smirk growing, clearly pleased by my forced gratitude. “See you tomorrow, intern,” he says, his tone dismissive, as if I’m nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his day.

Without another word, I turn and leave, clutching the wrinkled paper in my hand, his mocking gaze burning into my back as I step out of the room.

——————————————-

Thank you for reading! 😇

Remember, liking and following let’s me know you want more writings! 💜

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 268

Fright Knight sighs, running a clawed hand through his hair in an attempt to stop the flames from flickering into being. It had been far too long since he had taken a human-ish form. His human-ish form. Ugh. He didn’t exactly care for his human form after so long as a ghost, but needs must he supposed. 

Especially with the whole, we’re going to punch a backdoor into the literal daycare part of the Infinite Realms and be surprised when literal toddlers go exploring. 

Well, at least it got him off of guard duty for a bit, which was relieving. Not that he didn’t love the darkness, but it got boring in the shadow of his sword for literal centuries with nothing else happening. He was a warrior for Realm’s sake! Borderline an Ancient in both power and age! He wasn’t meant to stay so still for so long. 

So while ghostling wrangling wasn’t exactly in his area of expertise, he could definitely gather them back up to the Realms. And deal with the curs who had decided to attack literal babies. 

The Daycare area was already understaffed due to just how large it was, and the one in charge of this section had practically sobbed to the Council (In another world they would have been put on hold for a century in line for their concerns, and then more once a Sarcophagus was opened, but they had told the other ghosts in distress, causing others to let them go up in said line) how they were almost certain they had felt at least one core form Outside the realms thanks to the breach. 

Which had understandably put everyone at an uproar. 

So here he was slipping between shadows to do reconnaissance and take stock of if any Ghostlings had left the city. And gently scruffing those he comes across in exasperation because what are you doing, ghostling? Look at the mess, what would your caretaker say? 

[hotwritergf]

I have a habbit of messing up peoples names, ive called my mom my brothers name. Sometimes ill start with someone elses name and correct myself like sara-mily or i get it early so its just the first letter like saying ch-steve

I was just thinking about bestfriends eddie x reader where reader accidentally calls eddie daddy because theyre so similar. She goes to say a d name but catches herself and says eddie. She was talking fast and didnt even catch herself saying it until eddies like "did you just call me daddy?"

Accidentally calling Eddie ‘Daddy’. Eddie Munson x female reader. Blurb. Fluff.

I hope this is okay, I’m sick at the moment so it’s kinda self indulgent but I tried to personalise it a bit for you!

The night was like any other of yours and Eddie’s movie nights. Bags of candy spilled out on the floor, blankets swallowing you both up and a blunt being passed between you. Today was tiring, work couldn’t be more stressful and of course you were understaffed. Eddie came to pick you up at closing time, he already had your cup of tea in his cup-holder. It was the small things you appreciated the most from your best friend.

You had your head on his chest, because Eddie said “it will help your migraine I promise.” You wanted to believe him but the smirk on his face just showed he wanted to look after you. Eddie held his palm to your forehead, “you’re burning up a little, I’ll get you some medicine. Wait right here.” He ushers himself out from the blankets and into the kitchen. Rooting through the cupboards as you pause the movie, he reappears holding a bottle and a medicine spoon. Pouring the contents onto the spoon, “open up darling” he smirks as he feeds you.

You wince at the taste of the bitter medicine, swiftly taking a swig of your soda to wash away the taste. Wiping your mouth you whisper, “thank you d-daddy” “e-Eddie I meant Eddie!!” Your face flushes immediately, wanting the ground to swallow you up as you blurt out your sentence. Your brain was on auto pilot and Eddie and Daddy sounded far too similar for your mouth to comprehend whilst you’re suffering so bad with your migraine.

“What was that? Did you just call me daddy?” Eddie smirks, teasing you as he pulls your hands away from your blushing face.

“I- no! The words got scrambled in my head m’sorry I’m so embarrassed, I’m sorry.” You pull away from Eddie’s touch, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your head on them. Terrified that you’ve ruined your friendship, how could Eddie not see you differently after calling him that? A word so not-inherently bad but turned kinky and shameful, he could assume you’re into that. Not that it would be a bad thing to be kinky, you just weren’t.

“Hey hey hey.” Eddie pulls at your arms, “just look at me.” His voice is like velvet, so comforting but you’re shaking. Wishing you could be ignorant and never face this issue. “Come on princess, just want to see you smile.” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You stick to your guns, refusing to move and face him. “You leave me no choice then, I didn’t want to do this sweetheart. But you asked for this..” Eddie coos into your ear before teasing his fingers over your neck, ghosting over your skin and down to your sides. He pokes and prods your ribs, flailing back into Eddie’s chest, trying to swat at his hands to put an end to his ticklish assault.

“Okay! Okay!” You plead, holding on to Eddie’s wrists and looking deep into his eyes. He stills his hands, holding yours and dropping them into his lap. “I didn’t mean to say it Eddie, honestly.” Your voice stuttering as you whimpered. “It’s not a big deal. Seriously, I understand. You do that a lot with words, I’ve seen it. You’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.” A mischievous smile spreads over his face when he sees you let go of the breath you’ve been holding for the entire moment. Sighing, you let yourself smile, feeling safe knowing that Eddie doesn’t judge you.

“There’s that smile. Gotta hear that laugh too, you know, for daddy?” He teases before jumping on top of you and tickling you again.

[the-mandawhor1an]

Domestic God - Joel Miller x Reader drabble

Disclaimer: despite the pictures up here this can be read as gn!reader. The picture is more to invoke a vibe than a display of reader's appreance

Tags:  Safe for work. One instance of cursing and that's it. pre-outbreak (or no outbreak, We’ll never know) Joel and you are in your 30s. You’re married. No Sarah (Sorry babygirl. Your dad loves you very much but this is a universe where you don’t exist) No use of Y/N, no descriptions of reader’s body or gender, pure fluff, just Joel being an absolute meow meow teddy bear

Synopsis: Instead of spending a week off with your husband, you’re forced to endure the stress of a work week while also dealing with your husband and his newest antics. 

Words: 1.8k 

A/N: It may be painfully apparent in this that I’m European. I’m sorry. This could lead up to smut one day. I'm not promising anything yet. Unbeta'd

Mondays… Monday is the worst day of the week as is, but today is particularly nasty. What is supposed to be the first day of your week-long time off turned into a nightmare. One call from your boss to ruin it all. 

“Hey, so I know I approved your time off already but … I have to revoke that. The others have their time off planned for longer and we’re understaffed otherwise.” Oh how wonderful.

Translation: You and your one coworker are alone this week. On top of that you get grim reminders regularly that this week is supposed to be you week off. Joel, your lovely husband, better half and in general a lucky bastard, has the week off. He isn’t actively rubbing it in your face, but the sheer fact that he stayed in bed while you got ready for work was enough. 

You promptly forgot to kiss him goodbye. Maybe this was a smart move, after all. If you had walked up the stairs again to give him a kiss, he would certainly have pulled you back into bed and held you close. Seeing him slumber peacefully, his pillow hugged close to his chest, was too much to handle today. That should be you, nestled into his embrace and staying there until noon.

Joel deserves the week off, no discussion there. He works so hard, day in, day out and barely taking a break. And when he’s home, he continues working on the multiple little projects he’s got going. You practically forced him to take the week off with your incessant asking. To spend time together. Now he has all the time for himself. You know, maybe he even pulls out his guitar again. You haven’t seen him play since you got married. 

Your car stops on your driveway. Thoughts rush through your mind, how you’ll most likely spend your evening cooking dinner for you and Joel, clean the kitchen, and then take a shower and go to bed. Not something you look forward to, to be honest. Having little free time that you spend for chores, only to repeat the same tomorrow. This whole situation isn’t your husband’s fault, you don’t blame him and you’re not really mad at him either. It’s simply… unfair. He gets a whole week for himself and you have to work for 3 people. All further thoughts halt as suddenly the front door opens.  

Joel scratches the back of his head and yawns. As soon as he sees you in your car, a smile creeps up to his lips. Judging by his demeanor and his unruly hair, he has just woken up. Oh what a life you have, Miller. He approaches the car and opens the door for you, his favorite person. His greeting is the same it always is. “Hey, Sugar,” he purrs towards you. How can you be mad at that? Especially if he kisses you the way he does right now? It’s short and sweet, but it still conveys the love he has for you. He plants a second kiss on your temple. “Missed ya, Baby.” There it is: The salt in your wound. This should be your time off too, cuddling up to him and staying in bed all day.  

“Missed you too. Work was a fucking mess,” you reply with a sigh, melting into his chest as you feel his lips graze your face. The groceries wait in the trunk and you are about to get them, but Joel takes that task off of your hands. “You went grocery shopping after work? Sugar, I could’a done that.” Yeah, sure, while in bed all day? You take a deep breath. The bottled up frustration is still lingering. “Don’t worry. I needed to let off some steam and what better way to do that than fighting with a middle-aged woman over the last pack of coffee that’s on sale.” He chuckles as he carries the groceries inside. God, you love that man. 

When you enter the house, a pleasant surprise awaits you. The floor is suspiciously shiny and it smells wonderful. Apparently someone has cleaned the house. The living room looks tidy, as does the kitchen. “Wow,” you comment on the state of the house. Joel brings the groceries to the kitchen. Setting down the bags, he gives you a questioning look. You’re still in the entrance, looking around as if this is the first time entering the house. “You’ve cleaned.” “I did,” he nods. The groceries are slowly unpacked and put away by Joel, who continues. “Well, I had time. Tidied up, vacuumed and mopped the floors. The wood really needed some love. I’m making your favorite food for dinner. C'mere and tell me about your day. You want some tea?” You unload your bag, take off your shoes and shuffle over to the kitchen. “Please. But I have to ask, who are you and where is my husband?” Laughter erupts from him as you approach. You’re handed a warm cup of tea but you set it down on the counter, a little off to the side to give him space. 

“S’that so out of character for me?” he asks as you pull the cup closer. You think for a moment and play with the string on the tea bag. It’s not, Joel isn’t a lazy man at all. “Not in particular… but you waiting for me by the door is new.” He shrugs. “Heard the car, thought I’d greet you. And the look you gave me was scary, Sugar. Do you want to talk abut what happened?” He switches on the stove, but he walks behind you to wrap his arms around you for a while. He peppers soft kisses on the back of your neck. He always knows how to comfort you after a long day. With every kiss a little bit of your frustration leaves. “Ah, just work,” you explain, taking a careful sip of your tea. “It’s just two of us working and, well, after lunch break I was alone. Honestly I wanted to just call my boss and tell him that I’m going home. “ Joel rests his head on your shoulder and nuzzles into your neck. “I’m sorry, Baby. You’ve been looking forward to this more than I did. Could’a went on a vacation together.” He kisses your cheek, making you sigh softly. A vacation would’ve been so nice. Just a few days with him, maybe a road trip to one of the coasts.  

“A beach trip would be nice. It’s not warm enough yet. Maybe I’ll try to get time off in the summer so we can have some quality time.” “Sugar, we can have some quality time now. I’m taking care of the house so you can relax after work. Maybe I can even get the garden ready by the weekend.” You turn your head to face him. “You sure you’re my husband?” You share a grin before he kisses you again. The stove calls for his attention. You watch him cooking and let your gaze linger on his back, up to his broad shoulders and back down to his waist. He continues to tell you what he’s done in the home today. The whole ground level is spotless. “To be honest when I saw you open the door I thought you’d slept all day,” you confess finally. “Maybe that’s also why I was looking at you like that. Sorry, Honey.” “Don’t worry. I can handle you having a bad day.”  

Although you enjoy not moving a finger while Joel cooks, you set the table. The now empty tea cup sits in the sink, you’ll wash it later, when you’re sure you don’t want another. Dinner gets served and you ogle at the food before you. “Thank you so much, it looks great,” you tell Joel, he smiles back at you. “Of course, Sugar.” “Should I be worried that you broke something?” The jokes won’t end. But by now you realize you’re probably being a bit mean. You continue. “It’s just… you have the week off and I don’t expect you to work in the house all day just so I can relax after work. Especially not on the first day. I’m very grateful, obviously, but you should relax as well.” Sitting down, Joel sighs. “I know. It’s just that I can focus better when stuff is neat. At least anywhere besides the workshop.” He watches you take the first bite. Your face lights up and so does his. “Is it good?” “Yes. It’s wonderful.” “You’ve worked so hard leading up to this week and now you’re stuck working. Ain’t fair. And mopping the floor’s easier when no one’s home.” It makes sense, you think. To be honest the floor needed a good cleaning and you never seem to get to that.  

Joel grabs hold of your hand for a second and gently stroked over your skin with his thumb

Some of your neighbors are jealous of your relationship. You and Joel still behave like the freshly in love young adults you once were. Your love for one another has only grown since then. He really is your everything and you’re his. “What’s the plan after dinner?” you ask. Has he planned more? Not that you expect him to, but you are curious. Joel has thought about a lot today, it seems. “Your choice, Sugar. You can either take a bubble bath and read your little romance novel or I make some popcorn and we watch a movie.” With that outlook your choice is easy. “Let’s watch a movie.”

After dinner is eaten and the dishes clean, you and Joel cuddle up on the sofa. Nestled into his side, you watch the TV. The popcorn is barely touched, only Joel reaches into the bowl every now and then. All the frustration over work is gone. Only the comfort you feel in your husband’s presence remains. A fuzzy blanket covers you two, encapsulating you two in that little bubble of coziness. Your eyes are heavy, the stress of today weighing down on them. For a moment you look at Joel. 

You’re so lucky to have such a handsome husband and the thought makes a smile creep up to your lips. He notices and nudges you with his nose. “What’s up?” “I’m thinking how lucky I am to have such a sexy man by my side, that’s all. Thank you for taking care of me.” “Of course,” he kisses your forehead and gently strokes over your shoulder. “I’ll always take care of you, Sugar.” 

Spring is just around the corner in Texas. As much as you’d like to think that Joel is simply turning into a housewife on his time off and doing some spring cleaning, you suspect he does it for a different reason. He probably doesn’t even realize it, but that’s what you’re here for. He’s preparing a nest. 

You’ve talked about children before, but it always felt like you’re not ready. Maybe the time’s now. You sigh with contentedness and cuddle more into his side. He pulls you closer and you kiss. 

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 5

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I did it. I made the masterlist and started my playlist as well. They'll be linked at the beginning of every chapter, I'll add them to the old ones as well.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 1.9k+

You knew that you were good at your job but hearing someone not only tell you that but how you made them feel… your heart was soaring. You studied Bradley’s handsome face. You loved everything you saw, his puppy dog brown eyes, faded scars on his cheek, and a perfectly groomed mustache.

“I don’t know if you quite understand how much that means to me,” You inhaled slowly, “I see a lot of people who don’t get better.”

He squeezed your hand gently, stroking his thumb along the back, “I cannot even imagine what it’s like.”

“I don’t…” You stuttered, “... nevermind. Whatever, it’s not important.”

Bradley sat up quickly, “It is important. What you have to say is important.”

You signed, “I’m just burnt out. I thought that travel nursing, having a change of scenery every contract and the larger paychecks, would help with the feelings of overwhelming exhaustion… from caring for people who will never get better. But it hasn’t.”

“How long is your contract here?” He asked.

“Four more weeks but I’ve already been asked if I want to extend, they’re so understaffed… And I really love San Diego,” You explained, “So I’ll probably do it. But… I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

He nodded, selfishly so pleased that she wanted to stay here. “What about another unit? Another kind of nursing?”

You smiled weakly, “I’ve thought about it, I’ve thought maybe now would be the time to pivot towards the kind of nursing I actually want to do.”

“Which is?” He asked, tugging a little at the hand that was still in his, just beckoning for you to scoot closer.

You obliged but couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I wanna deliver babies.”

Bradley’s eyes lit up, “You would be incredible.”

Usually when you told people about your aspirations to go into labor and delivery, they’d say something like, “Isn’t that too big of a 180 from what you’re used to doing?” or “Good luck getting into that specialty.” Nobody ever unquestionably validated your desires.

“Yeah but those jobs are so hard to come by,” You shrugged, “They’ll never hire me.”

“So you’re telling me… that you… the nurse who had me extubated and breathing on my own before noon on the first day she met me, couldn’t get her dream job? Fucking nonsense.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you gently.

You laughed nervously, mostly because you liked the feeling of having both his hands on you. “I mean…”

“Get up and get your laptop.” He demanded, “We’re looking for jobs.”

You blinked at him in disbelief.

He smirked, “It’s an order, Y/N.”

Bradley came back to your couch with another bottle of wine in hand, “Some liquid courage.”

You slid your glass across the coffee table towards him, “No applications are being sent under the influence, just looking.”

He sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle with ease and filled your glass, “Fine but I’m gonna be checking back in with you.”

“How?” You asked sassily, “You don’t even have my number, Bradshaw.”

“Well… I do know where you live but I’d rather be less of a fucking creep and just have you put your number in my phone.”

You held out your hand, “Cough it up, Chicken man.”

He rolled his eyes and handed you his phone, “It’s Rooster, Sassy pants.”

You started putting your information in his phone, “Should I put myself in as ‘Nurse Y/N?” 

Bradley laughed, “I mean you can, but I think we’re past the point of you just being my nurse.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Is that so?” 

“I mean… have you ever invited a patient into your apartment for a bottle of wine?” He asked. 

“I guess not,” you shifted in your seat and finished entering your info with just your name.

Bradley studied it when he took back his phone, “You might want to add a little heart in there… for good measure.” He handed the phone back and winked. Good god, he was so bold. It was so hot.

Your cheeks flushed but you did as you were told, adding a pink heart emoji next to your name.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Bradley…” Y/N said softly after they had polished off their second bottle of wine.

“What’s got you worried?” Rooster asked, he could hear the concern in her voice.

“I…” she searched carefully for her words, “I’m not sure that you should drive home…”

He chuckled, “Trying to get me in bed already?”

Her cheeks flushed again, bright red. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. “That’s not what I was getting at, Bradshaw! Get your mind outta the gutter!”

“Uh huh, sureeeeeeee!” He teased.

“If you have to know,” she explained, “I don’t think you should drive home because we’ve been drinking a lot. And the last thing I want is your ass back in my ICU.”

Bradley loved that she cared so much and was still a little silly about it, “I don’t drink and drive. I promise you that.”

She nodded, “Good because I’d respect you a hell of a lot less.”

“Let’s do this,” he proposed, “I’ll grab an Uber home, sleep off this wine, and then when I come to get my car in the morning, I’ll take you to brunch?”

A smile spread across her face, “I really like that idea.”

Rooster had never been so excited for a hungover Sunday morning in his life. He rarely drank wine, so he woke up with quite the headache but didn’t even care. Leaving Y/N’s apartment was uneventful, in all honesty. He didn't want to kiss her until she made it clear that she desperately wanted it. Yes, they were clearly into each other. But this wasn’t the type of girl he wanted to push too far too quickly, no matter how badly he wanted to taste her sweet lips. 

After showering off the hangover and making sure he smelled fresh, he changed into his usual civilian uniform. Jeans, a white undershirt, a Hawaiian shirt on top, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Before leaving his bungalow, he checked himself in the mirror at least 15 times. Did he have anything in his teeth? Did his hair look stupid cuz it was still a little wet?

“Get it together, Bradshaw!” He muttered to himself.

He ordered his Uber and directs it right to the parking spot where he left his car in the back of your building. He quickly got in and headed towards the front. Deciding on music felt too time consuming, he just wanted to get to Y/N’s as soon as possible. When he pulled up to the front, he saw Y/N patiently waiting on a bench. Her legs were crossed, she intently stared at her phone, but looked up as soon as she heard the purr of Rooster’s car. A bright smile spread across her face as she stood up, Bradley’s mouth went dry seeing her in a floral sundress. Holy shit.

“Long time no see!” She chirped and tucked her phone into her purse.

Bradley climbed out of his car and met her at the passenger side door, opening it like the gentleman he is, “You look… wonderful.”

“Awww thanks, Bradshaw!” She buckled herself in, “Another Hawaiian shirt, I see.”

He jogged back around the car and hopped into the driver’s seat, “You’ve seen two of the many in my collection.”

When he turned the car on, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers started playing through the speakers.

“I love this song!” Y/N reached over and turned up the volume.

Despite having to drive, Rooster couldn’t help but intermittently look over and admire the woman sitting next to him, singing along quietly, with the wind whipping through her hair.

“Ugh!” She cried out over the music, “It’s so beautiful!”

Before he could stop himself from saying something so cheesy, he replied, “So are you.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly and didn’t know how to answer, so she started singing along with the Chili Peppers, “Blood loss in a bathroom stall, southern girl with a scarlet drawl…”

Rooster just smirked to himself and kept sneaking peeks at her, he loved leaving someone who always knew what to say speechless.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

You nervously stirred your iced latte a little too intently in its very aesthetic mason jar, trying to figure out how to tell him your news.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” He asked, resting his chin on his fists.

You smiled, “I sent in a couple job applications this morning.”

Bradley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, “That’s amazing! Where abouts?”

“Naval Medical Center, obviously… UCSD, Scripps, Sharp…” You listed off the names.

“All in San Diego?” He asked.

You nodded, “I really really like it here, there’s nothing better than being able to walk to the beach on my day off.”

“I try to start most of my days off with a run on the beach, I don’t even need headphones sometimes… It’s nice to just listen to the waves.” He mused.

The cute server that took your drink orders popped back to your table asking about food orders.

Your eyes widened with embarrassment, you hadn’t even looked at the menu.

Bradley took one look at you and asked for the server to come back in a few minutes.

“I hadn’t even looked at the menu…” You giggled.

“It’s okay, I always get the same thing so I wasn’t looking either.” He said.

You looked down and scanned the menu, “How stereotypically California of me would it be if I ordered avocado toast?”

He chuckled, “Almost as stereotypically California as me, always ordering the breakfast burrito.”

“Are you from here?” You asked, since this was kind of a date, now would be a good time to ask these introductory questions.

“Kinda… My dad was a naval aviator too and he spent some time here before he died. But I grew up mostly in Virginia since that’s where my mom’s family is. But she died when I was sixteen. After college, I commissioned as an officer and haven’t really had a homebase since. I just go where the navy needs me” He explained.

You reached across the table and held out your hand, “I’m so sorry, Bradley. I can’t imagine that kind of loss.”

He sighed and placed his hand on top of yours, “Some days are easier than others, most days are, actually. I don’t remember much of my dad, I get upset with myself for it if I think about it too much.”

“How old were you when he died?” You asked.

At this point, Bradley was struggling to make eye contact with you. You could tell this was a really hard topic for him, “Four.”

“You were just a little guy… basically a toddler.” You tried to comfort him and stroke the back of his hand with your thumb, just like he did to you last night, “It’s not your fault that the memories are hazy.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guess I never really realized just how young I was when he died.”

You desperately wanted to dig deeper and to learn more about the man in front of you and the people who raised him, but it didn’t feel like the right time. “This feels like a… sacred topic of conversation. Maybe we should put a pin in it and have it another time, maybe somewhere more quiet and private… when you’re ready.”

He squeezed your hand, “I would really, really love that, Y/N.”

Tag list:

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@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[modanisgf]

004. BLUE ORANGEADE (HALF WRITTEN)

prev | next | masterlist

minji sighed audibly at the sight of the late group finally coming in, the five gathering around with the others.

she decided to ignore their tardiness, choosing to get on with their meeting.

“so basically as you all know, everyone on the basketball teams has been assigned this year to help the student council with prom.” minji starts, someone’s hand immediately going up.

minji recognized it to be ni-ki from the boys basketball team, mentally preparing herself for a dumb question.

“so why are we here? i thought the whole point of student council was for you guys to organize everything.” ni-ki asks, not noticing the glare he got soon after from danielle and minji.

“there’s only so many of us, planning something as big as prom can’t be done only by us especially with everything else we have to do. and this also happens every year, a random club or sports team gets selected to help plan prom so there’s more outside opinions.” minji responds, feeling at peace with the simple nod ni-ki gave her.

“and how does you guys being understaffed have to do with us?” woonhak asks, groaning soon after at the punch to his shoulder from yn.

minji swore she was about to strangle him, hanni keeping a hand on her arm just in case.

“i already explained that basically, a club or sports team gets randomly selected every year and it just happened to be yours this time around.” minji responds, smiling fakely at woonhak.

“and there’s only so many positions in student council that the school offer to us, that isn’t our choice.” danielle backs minji up.

woonhak goes to speak before being stopped by ningning, confused at the looks his friends were giving him.

“woonhak, can you not piss minji off today?” yn says, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“you’re just saying that because she’s friends with your girlfriend. you guys never stop me, what’s wrong now?” woonhak questions, truly confused at the switch up.

“well for one we’re gonna be working with her for the next five months—“ jaehyun starts, being immediately cut off by woonhak.

“FIVE MONTHS?” he whisper yells, alarming some of the people in front of him.

“yes?! prom isn’t until june for us.” jaehyun says, frowning at the look woonhak gives him.

“well anyways the second answer is that it’s not that hard to be a decent person, they all already hate us so why make it worse the last couple months of school.” ningning says, to which yn nods.

“right, and if minji hates your guts what makes you think this is gonna be anymore enjoyable?” yn says, causing woonhak to sigh in defeat.

“fine, but next year it's back on." woonhak says, the rest of his friends rolling their eyes.

haerin couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of you again today, her gaze making yn feel annoyed.

‘why is she always looking at me if she hates me?’ yn thinks, trying her best to ignore haerin.

yn hoped time would go by fast, she wanted nothing to do with haerin and haerin wanted nothing to do with her. the bad blood would surely start something eventually, right?

yn was taken out of her thoughts by ningning tapping her shoulder, “we need to go create ideas for theme, come on jaehyun and woonhak are waiting.” she says.

yn followed her quickly, ignoring the way haerin’s eyes stayed trained on her. this was going to be a long five months.

TAGS 🏷️ (OPEN) — @jayjj7 @saysirhc @sixflame438 @ajjilhan @amourjins @isither @sserajeans @greenniee @isabbellle @gayforalll @leeohknows @airice @yeetaberry127 @l0l44444 @inosfavgf @emphobics @edamboon @s3mz @newhairnewjeans @xen248 @nooneissheree @wintersgff @haechansbbg @gtfoiydlyj @masuowo @he------len

[cartoonicle]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Plankton: That was almost too easy!

Nega Timmy: Congratulations on taking over the U.S. healthcare system, you four.

Calamitous: All it took was a little elbow grease

…and a comically large Doomsday device

Nega Timmy: So what’s your plan now?

Vlad: We’ll do what we do best! We are going to make it evil!

Plankton: We’ll start by squeezing the cash out of the chronically sick by charging exorbitant prices for their medicine.

Crocker: Diabetics will have to pay us 100-

Vlad: No, 200 dollars for their insulin.

Ah HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Nega Timmy: They already do that.

All of the Syndicate: What?

Nega Timmy: Insulin already cost at least that much.

Calamitous: Really? 200 dollars?

Nega Timmy: It’s closer to 300.

Plankton: Wow. Okay. Diabolical. Guess the U.S. beat us to the punch there.

Nega Timmy: They certainly beat you to punching Diabetics.

Crocker: It’s fine. We have plenty of other great, evil ideas.

Vlad: Next, we’ll make treatment impossible to access, by ensuring the hospitals are understaffed. And we’ll do this by limiting the number of people who are even allowed to become doctors.

Mwa HA HA HA HA HA!

Nega Timmy: They do that too.

Calamitous: What? There’s no way.

Nega Timmy: Do you remember having to do a residency to become a doctor?

Calamitous: Well, I’m not really a doctor exactly a science professor more like it. I have a Ph.D. in women’s studies.

Nega Timmy: Women’s Studies?

Plankton: Being an evil dictator doesn’t exclude any of us from being a feminist, Timothy!

Nega Timmy: Right, Well… You have to complete a residency at a hospital to become a physician. But the funds for hiring residents are provided by the U.S. government. So the number of available residency programs (thus doctors)… is decided by congress’ budget.

Plankton: So not only did they already do our evil thing… they did it in a more sinister and subtle way.

Nega Timmy: Basically.

Vlad: I’m not sure if we should be proud of our country or disgusted by it.

Nega Timmy: Maybe Both?

Calamitous: Seems as though We’ll have to do some truly despicable to defeat the U.S. government. In that case, we’ll make sure that the only people who can even afford healthcare are the ones who work for companies that benefit our economic interests!

Nega Timmy: That’s called Insurance.

Plankton: …Uh, and… We’ll let the hospitals deny treatment entirely to those who don’t have the correct insurance.

Nega Timmy: *Stares at them Silently*

Crocker: No!

Nega Timmy: Yep.

Crocker: Oh my God.

Nega Timmy: You have some tough competition.

Vlad: They’ve already done every evil thing. Next you’re going to tell us the hospitals are straight-up racist.

Nega Timmy: Funny you should say that. According to recent research-

Calamitous: Stop! I don’t wanna know! Ugh, all this information makes me feel like I’m gonna have to a heart attack.

Nega Timmy: Should I call an ambulance?

Vlad: No! it’ll cost too much.

Plankton: Screw this! We can’t be more cartoonishly evil than the United States’ healthcare system. And all of us are literally cartoon villains!

Nega Timmy: So what will you do?

Vlad: We’re just going to have to take over something pure and free of corruption. Like uh… The U.S. educational system!

Nega Timmy and Crocker: Ooof.

[purgatory-is-life]

Mechtober prompt 29/day 29-crossover

this one is going to turn into a longfic at some point as well, bc I just think its silly and i love doing crossovers they drive me insane

@mechtober-2024

Mechanical Bats - Reality666Rift999 - The Mechanisms (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

tw; cursing, mentioned murder, mentioned vehicular manslaughter, mentioned physical assault, mentioned crimes, probably more, let me know what I should add!

---

“Cass!” Steph called, causing the black-haired woman to turn towards her. “Where are you going? Tim was gonna drag us all to that show thing?”

“Oh,” Cassandra hummed. “That was tonight?’

“Yep!” Stephanie replied, popping the ‘p’.

Cassandra nodded, taking a moment to think. “I will be there, I’m meeting someone. A friend. I will– hm… They will be there, too.”

“Ah, okay, okay. Be safe? And punch ‘em in the gut if they do anything!”

“They will not. …Would probably enjoy it, too… Hm.” Cass waved, and turned, leaving Stephanie confused in the manor’s foyer as Cass left Wayne Manor.

Stephanie sighed, shaking her head, before turning and heading back further into the manor.

—--

“Good morning my dearest Gunpowder!” Marius grinned as he sat down in his plush seat. This asylum really knew how to treat their doctors!

Tim, on the other hand, looked about ready to blow the place up–which, to be fair, was their normal. They sighed dramatically, sitting upside down on the plastic chair.

“Oh, Marius. I’ve smuggled in only about fifteen pounds of plastic explosives, I’ve found answers to all that Nygma guys’ riddles and he’s run out of things to ask, how do you think? I’m bored! There aren’t even any octokittens around to keep me entertained! This place is so boring!”

“You’ve been here for a week, Gunpowder…”

“And I’m bored! Which crime even was it that got me sent here? There’s at least a dozen to pick from!”

“Uh…” Marius looked through the folder he’d been given. “Aggravated assault and first degree vehicular manslaughter! Damn, they didn’t even pick any of the good ones.”

Tim groaned loudly. “This is stupid! This place is boring! And clearly they don’t give a shit, they hired you of all people!”

“I am perfectly qualified, thank you very much! They do seem to be quite severely understaffed for the amount of criminals here, though.”

“Exactly! We should just break out of here, use those fifteen pounds of explosives and ditch this place to get back to having some fun.”

“Oh!” Marius clapped his hands. “Funny enough, that reminds me! We’re doing a show tonight at Calypso’s, you want to come? If I help you, you won’t even need to worry about using up your explosives just yet, I’ll smuggle some guns in later! The security is tight but, well, has that ever stopped us?”

“Yeah, well, you can just summon things from fuckin’ nowhere, so I think you’re an outlier.”

“Well it’s not like I can do that on purpose, that just kind of happens! A surprise, really, that they haven’t thrown me in here with the others because of my violin thing, actually.”

“My guess? They can’t because you don’t have a known criminal record.”

“So far! The game is young, we got here what, a month ago? Much to do! Many crimes to commit! And there’s superheroes, that’s gonna be fun to fuck around with. I think Jonny’s planning to start a war already!”

“Of course he is! It’s Jonny, mate doesn’t know how to do jack shit that doesn’t involve violence and bloodshed.”

“Well… yeah, it is Jonny. He’s violent and chaotic and that’s how we like him!”

“Hm. Usually. Anyway, concert tonight?”

“Right! It’s at about, uh… What kind of clock do they use around here again?”

“Twenty-four hours, generally.”

“Right! So then the concert’s at about 19:30 tonight, so I’ll come break you out around 17:45?”

“Amazing!” Gunpowder clapped excitedly. “Finally some kind of fun!”

“Of course! Now,” Marius grinned, “on to the therapy session!”

Gunpowder stared at Marius, mechanical eyes whirring as they zoomed in and out. “Don’t do this to me, Mari. Please.”

“Well it’s what I was hired to do~” Marius’s grin widened. “So, where were we last session?”

“Ugh…”

—--

Calypso’s was a new bar and grill that seemed to spring up from nowhere, swiftly gaining popularity for its declaration of being a ‘Neutral Zone’, good drinks, and live music. Particularly, the live music.

The music was always performed by an indie band that similarly appeared out of nowhere. With their surprise arrival on the scene, they quickly gained popularity alongside the bar. Their songs were violent and cruel, speaking of endless death and destruction and war as if they were the greatest thrills one could seek. The bassist owned and ran the bar, and the band performed at other small, local bars and venues whenever Calypso’s itself was closed. Overall, besides the violence and bloodshed in their songs, they were largely unassuming.

Except for the fact that the guitarist was arrested and sentenced to five years in Arkham for driving into and killing a pedestrian before beating someone half to death with an unlit scented candle, the bassist was clearly making some kind of name for themself in the criminal underground based on the hushed whispers heard around the city, and Tim was utterly transfixed by them.

Bruce Wayne did not like them, their music was loud, bloody, and confusing and they were almost definitely all criminals. But, Tim liked them, and was dragging everyone to Calypso’s to see the band perform, and Bruce wanted more than anything to support his kids. And that’s how he found himself being dragged to Calypso’s at six in the evening, Tim talking excitedly to Steph while Jason and Dick argued about something. Probably a book, Bruce had stopped paying attention to them a while ago.

Barbara would’ve come, but she didn’t want to and had elected to have a quiet night in the Clock Tower, watching over Gotham in case of an emergency.

Either way, Bruce was using this as a perfect time to properly investigate the band running the bar. Going as Batman would only raise suspicions of the bar owners, show that he was on to whatever it was they were doing under the table; it was risky, and gathering intel would be harder to do if he had to fight off whatever security force worked for the bar.

But when Tim had invited the whole family out to see the band, well. That made things significantly easier.

Entering the bar, the first thing Bruce noticed was the smell. There was, naturally, the thick stench of alcohol wafting through the air, the thick scent of cigarette smoke, but it smelt… A lot more clean. Of all the bars he’d been to, as Batman or as Bruce Wayne, it was probably the one that smelt the nicest and the cleanest.

He wasn’t sure if that was weird or not, but he still noted it.

They weren’t very far into the building when Cassandra walked up to them, waving with a small smile. Stephanie grinned excitedly. “So, where’s your friend?” was the first thing Steph asked. Bruce sighed. Cass didn’t seem phased, though, and simply offered a small smile.

“They will be here,” she said, nodding. “C’mon, I’ve got us a table.”

Tim fell into step with Cass quickly, the two leading the way through the bar while the rest of them followed.

“This is going to be so cool,” Tim said, grinning and snapping his fingers. Cass nodded, that small smile still on her lips.

“It’s going to be very fun.”

“I wonder what they’re going to play? I’ve got a few ideas…” Tim continued to ramble, Cass nodding along while leading them to the booth she’d picked out. Bruce bit his tongue, and let them talk about the band in peace. (Tim rarely smiled so brightly anymore, still a bit upset about Damian’s arrival– he deserved a few things to smile about.)

Bruce surveyed the other patrons, keeping an eye out for anyone familiar or any of his typical rogues. Bruce didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, and sat down. The booth had a nearly perfect view of the stage, which seemed to be in the process of being set up. There was a booth ahead of them that was closer, but no one was sitting in it yet. There were several menus placed around the table, and Bruce decided to survey it. There were a lot of strange items, ones that he wouldn’t have expected to see at a dingy, brand new bar-and-grill that just popped up. Alongside the standard items– cheeseburgers, nachos, fried pickles, and beer– there were things like steak, old, well-aged wine, and baked alaskas. It was… odd.

“So…” Dick said, tapping his fingers along the table, “you’ve talked a bit about this band, but what exactly are we signing up for?”

Tim just grinned. “Oh you’ll see.”

Dick just rolled his eyes. Bruce glanced around at the other patrons again, and at the stage. A few people had gathered on it. They appeared to be talking about something. One of the people on the stage was tall, wearing a long, pinstriped trench coat, while one of the others was fidgeting with one of the microphone wires in a brown leather vest, and a white shirt, and the other was very stiff and wooden in their movements, wearing a uniform that Bruce assumed was some kind of military uniform that he just wasn’t familiar with. Other than their outfits, nothing stuck out about them as odd, and so Bruce turned away.

Jason was demanding something from Tim, probably more of an explanation, while Steph stared intensely at the menu as if she wasn’t going to order the nachos, like she always did when at a new place that served them. Dick was also observing the menu with intensity, while Cass watched the stage with interest.

“You can’t just bring us here with no explanations and expect us to sit idly by!” Jason proclaimed.

“I can, and I did,” Tim replied. “Besides, out of everyone, I think you’ll like their songs the most. Maybe they’ll appeal to Dick’s inner theatre kid–”

“Hey!”

“–but I think they’ll appeal to you a lot. There’s a lot of bloodshed!”

“I don’t only like violence,” Jason wrinkled his nose. “I don’t even necessarily like violence. It’s just that it’s useful sometimes.”

“Well, there’s a lot of classic literature drawn from, in their songs, too. There.”

Jason looked like he wanted to hop across the table and strangle Tim, but he refrained, which Bruce was thankful for. A waiter stopped by, and asked if they were ready to order something.

Everyone simply got water or sweet tea to drink, and Steph ordered the extra-spicy nachos, Dick got a double-patty cheeseburger, and Cass got mac-and-cheese. The waiter took their orders with a sure nod, and disappeared off somewhere else. Everything was going smoothly, so far. It was calm, and there wasn’t anything odd going on around them. It put Bruce on edge– when everything was too calm, too nice. Something had to go wrong, soon.

Bruce glanced at the stage, and saw several more people having gathered, tuning instruments and getting set up for the show. As he looked over the stage, one of the people up there–the bassist, he assumed from the instrument across their shoulders–glanced at him, directly in his eyes, and grinned. It was only for a moment, but it sent chills down Bruce’s spine, and Bruce tore his eyes away.

Cass turned back to the others, and announced, “The show’s starting soon.”

Tim jumped and turned towards the stage, grinning excitedly.

As everyone’s attention drifted towards the stage, the person in the brown leather vest grabbed a microphone, saying into it, “Test, test. Our audio working alright?” The sound echoed throughout the bar, but it didn’t break or crack in any way. Bruce followed the person’s eyes towards a booth towards the center of the room, where someone was seemingly working their audio. They gave a thumbs up, and the one in the vest turned to the one in the probably-a-military-uniform. “Toy Soldier, test that mic for us.”

“Will do, Old Chap!” The stiff one saluted, and leaned into the microphone to sing a couple of scales.

The band continued doing a few tests, until they were satisfied that everything was working and sounded alright. With those out of the way, the one at the microphone in the center-front stage, nodded and started talking again.

“Right, well, I must say– welcome one and all! Returning patrons and new faces alike! I’m sure you know the drill by now!” They gestured to one of the string players, who started playing a vibrant and energetic tune that was quickly joined in on by the rest of the band.

And with that, they started singing.

“Like whiskey laced with gasoline, We’re deadly when we’re drunk

So shut your face and settle down, You sneering little punk!

‘Cause space is vast, You are small, It’s black and bitter cold

The book is lying open,

There are tales to be told!”

The seemingly lead-singer was grinning wildly, as he sang.

“The fire is burning lower and the Stars are shining bright

We’ve stories grim as pistol lead to tell to you tonight!

So grab yourself a mug of beer, gin or vodka, hold it near

The book is lying open,

There are tales to be told!”

Tim and Cass were clapping along, as was most of the bar.

“Killers, renegades, liars and thieves!” The lead singer called out, “Welcome! For those of you unfamiliar, we are the Mechanisms! The Crew of the Starship Aurora, roaming through the universe in search of adventure, seeking fun, enjoying a good spot of violence here and there, and looking, most of all, for a good story. But also, mostly the violence.” They shrugged and grinned. “Let me introduce to you my Crew! First off, we have Drumbot Brian, our ship’s pilot and–naturally–our drummer!” There was a cheer from the crowd, and the person in a top hat with brass-painted– painted? From where Bruce was sitting, he almost couldn’t tell if Drumbot Brian had face paint on or if he was actually made of brass– smiled and waved, grinning. “There’s Raphaella la Cognizi, our keys player and resident science officer!” The one behind the keyboard jumped slightly, and smiled widely, waving as her mechanical wings fluttered. “And of course, our ship’s quote-un-quote ‘doctor’, Baron Marius von Raum on violin! He’s neither a baron, nor a doctor.” One of the violinists grinned and waved with a black, metal hand, before returning to playing. “My dumbass sister, on viola, Nastya Rasputina!” The woman on the viola flipped the lead singer off, adjusted her glasses, and returned to her playing as well. The crowd still cheered, though. “Our beloved and be-loathed archivist, Ivy Alexandria, on just a truly unfathomable amount of instruments.” The redhead waved, a small smile on their face.

“On harp and lyre, our Navigator Lyfrassir Edda!” The dark skinned person sitting next to a decent sized harp waved as well, their silver hair glowing slightly iridescent under the light, looking at them directly for too long left colorful dark-spots in Bruce’s vision and gave him a headache. And returning from the shortest hiatus ever, our Master-at-Arms and guitarist, Gunpowder Tim makes her daring return!” There was an uproarious cheer throughout the bar, and Gunpowder Tim smiled, giving small bows around the room with a wild grin. Her presence caught Bruce’s eye, as she was the one that was supposed to be in Arkham for manslaughter. He had to make a note to call Gordon, to check on the asylum and make sure no one else had broken out once they were done here… “The Toy Soldier is… here, for some reason, to sing and play the glockenspiel and mandolin. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it.” Jonny gestured to the stiff one, who waved excitedly.

“I’m just happy to be involved here!” The Toy Soldier declared.

“Yes, we’re aware. And of course, everyone give a warm, warm welcome, to our host, the owner of this here bar, our dearest quartermaster and bassist, Ashes O’Reilly!” There was another cheer, and the bassist grinned, though they didn’t react much more than that. “And lastly, though never the least, there’s myself! Your humble narrator, Jonny d’Ville, captain of our amazing starship!”

And then, as if it was some kind of cue that Bruce didn’t get, several people in the bar (including Cass and Tim) and on the stage yelled out, “First Mate!”

Jonny d’Ville sighed dramatically, but there was a subtle smirk on his face. “Really, I should expect this by now, no one ever respects my authority.”

“You don’t really have any,” Ashes said, “here in my bar. Technically.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

They let the music play for a moment, before Jonny began singing again.

The show continued on for a while, playing an album that Tim had excitedly called ‘Once Upon a Time (in Space)’, that didn’t last nearly as long as Bruce was expecting. It was a retelling of several classic fairy tales, set in a sci-fi, war-torn world. And while Bruce definitely wouldn’t call it anything he found particularly interesting, the story was good and the atmosphere was strangely warm. (It was a bonus that Cass and Tim were getting so excited and clapping or cheering along to the music, that they enjoyed it so much.) Their food arrived shortly after the first song, ‘Tales to be Told’, according to Cass, and it was surprisingly good. Especially for a new bar run by someone who didn’t seem to exist a few weeks ago. As the concert wore on and ended, there was a loud cheer, and the band started to put things away.

Ashes put their bass away, and Bruce watched as the possibly-metal man approached them. They had a conversation, before Drumbot Brian rolled his eyes and bowed slightly to them (despite being nearly a foot and a half taller than them), before walking away, and then Ashes turned around and locked eyes with Bruce again, grinning.

They walked over, and Cass grinned as they approached. Tim’s eyes widened, when he saw them approaching. Ashes leaned on the pillar that their booth was attached to, grinning a bit at Cassandra.

“Hey, Cassie,” they said, surveying the table, “so this the surprise you mentioned earlier?”

Cass nodded. “Lucky coincidence,” she said. “I forgot they were coming tonight.”

“Ah.” Ashes grinned. Steph swung her head wildly between the two of them, from Ashes to Cass and back to the bassist.

“Cass? Your friend is the fucking owner?!” Steph asked.

Cass grinned and nodded.

“Yep,” Ashes said, grinning and slipping one of their hands into their pockets. “Ashes O’Reilly, owner of Calypso’s, and a friend of Cassie’s. They/them pronouns, preferably. Nice to meet you all.” Ashes offered a hand to everyone, Tim was still shell shocked, but everyone else was mostly able to shake their hand. Ashes offered their hand to Bruce, and he hesitated, before gripping their hand tightly. Their hand was almost uncomfortably warm.

“Bruce Wayne,” Bruce replied, “nice to meet you as well.”

[gentaro-kinniecom]

It all started with a cup of coffee

Characters: Fareeha Amari (Pharah)/fem!reader

C/w: modern au!, you work as a barista with lena (tracer), fluff-ish, suggestive, romantic scenes, Fareeha flirts w you <3, first person pov! [Not proofread]

A/n: I love women. Muah; Im still working on those love and deepspace fics..im just so busy with college stuff pls :,( anyways enjoy 😋

The coffee shop was unusually busier today, I groaned as the sight of the huge line outside grew with each minute that passed. Why did my shift had to be during lunch hour? I passed by the line of impatient customers, some angry at me (since they thought I was a cutting customer), and opened the door, my co-worker sighed in relief as she glanced my way. It seemed we’re understaffed today..

“What took you so long?” She asked, handing me my apron adorned with cute buttons, one of them being a pride flag, which people stared at it rather than me most times. Lena was regularly energetic, but today’s demand was so exhausting to the point where her usual smile faded in the back while preparing orders.

“Traffic. Go and take a break, you’ve more than enough have earned it.” She tried to complain about it, saying how I needed help taking and doing orders, but I insisted, giving her a slight push towards the break room while flashing me a smile.

Hours passed after taking customer’s orders alongside Lena that I didn’t notice it was already 5:30pm, we usually close at 7 but since tomorrow was a free day due to a small holiday event in town, the shop owner was nice enough to change the hour until 6pm for today. I began sweeping the floor and cleaning some tables when the small bell of the shop rang suddenly

“Would you mind taking their order? I have to take out the trash and finish up in the back” Lena asked as I looked up nodding and smiling her way before standing behind the register, not noticing who was in front of me.

“I’ll take a small cappuccino and the last vanilla cupcake” The voice sounded so familiar..I finally looked up to see my crush and classmate, Fareeha Amari. Her hair was messy in an attractive way and adorned with golden accessories. She smiled while meeting my gaze, knowing I had recognized her

“Fareeha? From Calculus class? It’s been a while” I said, writing her name on the cup and starting the coffee steamer.

“I’m glad you remembered, although almost no one in college now days don’t even take the time to know their professor’s names.”-there was a pause, she fetched her phone after it rang twice, apologizing before continuing-“I’ve been meaning to talk with you for a while now” Fareeha thanked me before taking small sips in between our current conversation. While I finished up on cleaning, Fareeha sat down, scrolling through some videos or social media in general.

When it came the time to close, she wished me a goodnight and left, then I noticed. She had left behind a note, her phone number was neatly written in her lovely handwriting. I quickly dialed the number, keeping the small paper in my pocket. Lena’s girlfriend, Emily, came to pick her up, they offered me a ride home but I decided to walk, thanking them while heading towards the subway.

In the morning, I decided to finally reach out to her after a long night of debating it. It’s all fun and games until Fareeha finds out the name her contact on my phone is. Nothing fancy, just ‘Pharah’, with a heart emoji on the side. Sitting down on the countertop, I reached for my phone, sighing while typing..

“Good morning! It’s Y/n, how are you?” As I awaited a reply from her, I began to prepare breakfast while trying not to think much about the text. To my surprise, my phone pinged, ‘1 message from Pharah♡’. I unlocked my phone, my heart accelerating within the second.

“Hey~! I’m doing good, better now that you texted me..by any chance are you going to tonight’s festival?” Oh? The question caught me off guard for a moment as I finished eating. Yes, I was planning to go alone however, if she’s inviting me, I wouldn’t mind.

“I have nothing better to do honestly, I’d love to go, why? You’re inviting~?” I asked, placing my phone on the counter of the vanity while going to take a shower. As I finished, my phone began to ring; Fareeha was calling me. I sighed upon seeing it was just a normal call and not facetime

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to pick up. And to answer your question, yes, I’m inviting you out.” I grabbed my clothes, leaving the bathroom as I replied.

“Oh~? So like a date then?” There was a small paused before Fareeha chuckled,

“You’re cute, if you want it to be a date, I wouldn’t be opposed to it” Setting down my phone on my bed now, I started to dress myself before replying to her

“Sure~! Does 5pm sound good for you?”

“It’s perfect, I’ll pick you up too, just send me your address, see you” With that, she hung up. I then texted her my location; going on about my day until the time came for her to pick me up. A sudden knock on my door made me realize it was already 4:50pm, she even arrived 10 minutes early..I got up, reaching for the door and opening it

“Hi beautiful, you ready to go?” Fareeha asked, leaning against the doorframe with one arm as I smiled, taking in how good she looked

“I’ll go grab my purse, be right back!” While gathering my stuff, the realization dawned upon me, she was flirting with me, like we’ve been doing even before yesterday. I guess I was too distracted or oblivious to notice

“Thanks for waiting~” Our hands intertwined, walking out of the apartment complex, and toward her blue McLaren, the sides had a streak of gold, it looked beautiful. Fareeha opened the door for me, though the ride wasn’t that long, in 10 to 15 minutes we had already arrived to the event. It was late enough to go back for my jacket, I would’ve never thought it would be cold tonight. Fareeha seemed to notice as she quickly handed over her own

“If you were cold, you should’ve asked for my jacket, sweetheart” I nearly melted at her words, holding her hand while grabbing her jacket as we walked. I couldn’t help but stare at her now glossy lips as she applied some lipstick while letting go of my hand, only to quickly grab it as she smiled, eyes wandering from my eyes to my lips.

“I didn’t want to bother you” My voice was but a mere whisper, still, it made Fareeha laugh softly. We soon entered one of the restaurants around the block.

“Never, in fact, I’d love for you to ask for my things. My jacket suits you well” I nod, ordering a beverage along with something to eat together as Fareeha continued to stare at me, almost lovingly. After eating with her, we walked around town. She wouldn’t let me pay for anything, even with us getting matching key chains for our phones.

“You didn’t have to..don’t tell me you have a thing for spoiling people?” I inquired half jokingly, returning home with her. Fareeha’s hand gripped the steering wheel while the other rested on my thigh

“Only to people I really like..have you gotten the hint yet, or do I have to be more..direct with my feelings?” She teasingly spoke, parking nearby my apartment as I took off my seatbelt, looking over as she tried leaving the car. I grabbed her hand, leaning towards her

“What is it that you truly desire then? Go on, I’m all ears” A cocky smile appeared on her face, making me falter my grip when suddenly, Fareeha took hold of my hands, pushing me slowly against my seat.

“You hate it when I tease you yet..you’re out here playing games with me, honey”

“Okay and~? What’re you gonna do about it? Her lips crashed onto mine like a dream. It was as if tonight everything came to light. My hands caressed her face softly, leaning more into the kiss while Fareeha grabbed my hair, gently tugging it after parting away

“What~? Don’t tell me you’re speechless now?” I chuckled, my hand in hers; soon we left her car, upon arriving to my apartment, I kissed her goodnight. I couldn’t help but think of Fareeha throughout the entire night.

Months passed by, and I can proudly sat that my relationship with her has grown. To the point of moving in together a few months after she asked me to be her girlfriend. I was currently making breakfast, looking out the window to see the sky during the early afternoon. Hands suddenly wrapped around my waist as I smiled

“Good afternoon my love, sleep well?” Fareeha nodded gently, kissing my cheek while grabbing some orange juice from the fridge.

“Mhm, I never thought my dreams of having a life with you would become real, not that I’m complaining” She smiled, taking two glasses of orange-printed cups and pouring juice. At good timing too since I was done with breakfast. We sat together in the dinning table; Fareeha read the newspaper as I scrolled through some social media

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to visit the botanical garden last week?” She said, breaking the comfortable silence while taking our dishes back to the kitchen

“Yes, but, don’t you have to call and reserve beforehand? It’s not like we can show up without anything” Fareeha chuckled, after washing our plates, she went towards our shared bedroom and took out an envelope. Inside were two tickets for the garden

“You didn’t think I already planned ahead, right~?” I smiled, wrapping my arms around her as a small ‘thank you’. I couldn’t help but admire her eyes, the way her hair fell down onto her face…

“You’re staring..do I have something?” She looked concerned but I just laughed, kissing her softly, almost catching her off guard. Her hands quickly traveled towards my waist

“I just like staring at you, my beautiful girlfriend”

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Event | A Postman Delivering Your Feelings | Episode 9

Tsuzuru: Guy-san and I have finished changing, so we’re ready to go on stage now.

Guy: Since all the seats but the ones in the front row are free, it seems that more people have come to see our performance with their families than just the usual fans of the company. 

Yuki: True. It does seem like there’s a pretty wide range of ages.

Sakyo: So you were able to successfully resolve that fight from earlier, Takato?

Tasuku: Yeah, they were able to work things out.

Misumi: Thank you for working so hard to serve customers while I was away from the booth, Masumi!

Masumi: It’s not like I really did that much, I had Director helping me out a bit, and all that really matters is that you managed to sort things out.

Izumi: I’m not only grateful for Misumi-kun and Tasuku-san, but I’m also grateful for the rest of you guys for being so adaptable and accommodating while those two were gone. So, thanks, everyone.

Izumi: The audience is a little different from the kind we’re used to, but make sure to have fun performing like you always do, okay?

Misumi: ‘Kaaay! We’re off!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Play Cast

Masumi - Riffle

Tsuzuru - Man/Lease

Yuki - Stamp

Misumi - Letra

Tasuku - Tiga

Guy - Carta

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (A city in the near future filled with advanced technology. The young people living here have almost never used the post office.)

Izumi: (The number of post offices and their employees has been decreasing over the years, and letters sent out to the post offices are usually delivered by the office’s employees until the end of the day.)

Izumi: (Our story focuses on Letra and Riffle, who are working as new employees after easily getting the job due to the office’s understaffing.)

Envelope: “How many days did it take you to deliver that letter from the other day?”

Riffle: “I mean, the place was pretty far away, so.”

Envelope: “Regardless, it arrived way too late. What the hell were you doing…?”

Letra: “Whoa, Envelope-san’s really scary. I’m really glad that Tiga-san is my mentor!”

Stamp: “You’re supposed to call them senpai.”

Stamp: “Anyway, Tiga-senpai isn’t really all that different from Envelope-senpai, though.”

Letra: “He’s at least nicer when he gets mad!”

Stamp: “Maybe you should just stop doing things that make him mad in the first place.”

Stamp: “Letters are really important, so get going! And do it accurately! Make sure it gets delivered properly.”

Letra: “Hmph~, you’re only one year older than me, but you’re already so good at this, Stamp~.”

Tiga: “Stamp’s right. Both you and Riffle need to learn to stop taking detours and start taking your deliveries more seriously.”

Carta: “Even though Stamp is a newer employee, she knows just how important letters are and works very diligently.”

Carta: “That’s what we’re expecting from you and Riffle, Letra.”

Letra: “Got it, Chief Carta.”

Letra: “...That said~, I don’t even really know what a letter is exactly…”

Izumi: (New delivery employees usually deliver things together with the guidance of a senior employee, but sometimes they get to go out on their own to make deliveries.)

Izumi: (Taking letters by hand to places they’ve never heard of and heading in completely different directions after roughly deciding which way they’re supposed to go…)

Izumi: (The two newbies continue to do their work adequately every day.)

Letra: “Which house does this letter need to be delivered to~? Riffle, look for it with your binoculars!”

Riffle: “Got it. I’ll check right away.”

*Phone buzzes*

Riffle: “!”

Riffle: “…”

Letra: “Hm? Wasn’t that your terminal just now, Riffle?”

Riffle: “...It’s fine. Probably just someone trying to ask about my car’s extended warranty or something.”

Letra: “Huuuh…?”

Izumi: (One day, Letra and Tiga return from a long-distance delivery and are greeted by Stamp.)

Stamp: “Welcome back. Everyone’s doing deliveries right now. I’m just about to head out to do a delivery too, so if anyone shows us, make sure to deal with them. Later.”

Letra: “Okay, got it, see you later.”

Man: “…Um, excuse me…”

Tiga: “There’s a customer. Letra, you go help him.”

Letra: “Got it. …Hello~, do you have something to be delivered?”

Man: “I’d like to have this letter delivered, but…”

Letra: “You’ve even got a stamp on it. Alright, here, allow me to deliver it for you.”

Man: “…Wait, really?”

Letra: “? Yeah, I mean, that’s my job, so…”

Man: “Right. Then… please deliver this for me.”

*Man runs off*

Letra: “We hope you come again.”

Letra: “Okay, and the destination is… Huh, that’s…”

Tiga: “What’s wrong?”

Letra: “Nothing, just… It looks like it’s just addressed to Riffle instead of having a delivery address, but…”

Letra: “A letter for Riffle from someone who doesn’t even know his address, doesn’t it make that guy seem kinda suspicious…?”

Tiga: “...We’re not the ones to be the judge of that. Let’s go talk to the Chief.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Carta: “A letter addressed to Riffle? And the sender is…”

Carta: “...I see. Well, I supposed it’s time for him to face it.”

Carta: “Can you please give this letter to Riffle?”

Izumi: (Leaving the Chief’s office while nodding their heads, Letra asks Tiga if he knows anything about Riffle.)

Izumi: (Tiga also doesn’t have many of the details, but he tells Letra about the circumstances that led to Envelope becoming Riffle’s mentor.)

Izumi: (Having been told to give the letter to him, Letra gives it to Riffle when he returns from his delivery.)

Letra: “Riffle, I was told to deliver this letter to you.”

Riffle: “…Gh!”

*Riffle runs off*

Letra: “Wait, Riffle…!?”

Izumi: (Riffle reads the letter, gets upset, and crushes the letter in his hand as he leaves without saying a word. And the following day, he calls in sick…)

Izumi: (At first, they thought Riffle would come back soon, but a whole month passed and he still hadn’t returned.)

Izumi: (Letra then goes to ask the Chief when he’ll be back.)

Carta: “...I’ve been treating it as a leave of absence, however, Riffle has actually handed in his letter of resignation. It’s very possible that he won’t come back.”

Letra: “What…!?”

Letra: “But we came to this post office together… What’s the big deal, Riffle…!?”

Izumi: (At first, Letra wasn’t so sure about him, but gradually, he started to get to know Riffle more.)

Letra: “That guy who sent him the letter’s gotta know something. I remember the sender’s address. I’m gonna go and pay that guy a visit…!”

Letra: “If that’s what I’m deciding to do then… Excuse me, Tiga-senpai! I wanna take the day off today…”

Tiga: “...You’re planning on tracking down the person who sent Riffle the letter, aren’t you?”

Letra: “Uegh… Busted…”

Envelope: “If that’s where you’re headed, one day won’t be enough. I’ll approve three days of leave for you.”

Envelope: “...Please bring back Riffle. Even someone like him can end up being a cute kouhai.”

Letra: “Envelope-senpai… Yeah, leave it to me! I’m headed out now!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Letra: “I dunno why you had to come along even though I would’ve been fine on my own, Tiga-senpai.”

Tiga: “Because I’m worried about you being on your own.”

Letra: “Hmph. Anyway, this area is pretty rural. One day really wouldn’t have been enough…”

Tiga: “The address of the house we’re headed to is over there.”

Letra: “Wait, here!? That’s a really big house! That’s obviously some sorta super-rich guy’s mansion!”

Man: “...Huh?”

Man & Letra: “Ah, it’s you!” 

Izumi: (Letra tells the man about how Riffle saw the letter and resigned. Tiga is stunned by how direct he is…)

Man: “No way, did he really…?”

Letra: “How do you know Riffle?”

Lease: “My name’s Lease. Riffle is my little brother.”

Letra: “You’re Riffle’s big bro!? Wait, so Riffle’s some super loaded rich kid!?” 

Lease: “He’s always been treated like a failure by our family…”

Lease: “I promised that as his older brother, I’d always be there to protect and help him, but I couldn’t keep my promise because I was sent to study abroad to be educated as the family’s heir.” 

Letra: “I never knew that about Riffle…”

Lease: “We kept in touch at first, but then things got busy and we just sort of naturally stopped talking.”

Lease: “And when I finally came back just recently from studying abroad, Riffle was gone from home.”

Lease: “I looked into things and found out that he was being treated even worse after I had left.”

Lease: “I think he sent me a letter before he left home, but no one at home ever delivered it to me.”

Letra: “Oh, I see… But I wonder why Riffle went outta his way to send a letter instead of just messaging you.”

Lease: “I was always so busy every day that I didn’t have the time to take the time to talk to him, so I’ve basically been communicating with Riffle through letters ever since we were little.”

Tiga: “For Riffle, those letters were probably the only way he could really talk to his older brother. They were probably like an emotional support for him.”

Letra: “Those letters were important to Riffle…?”

Tiga: “I’d say probably.”

Lease: “But I didn’t have the courage to meet up with Riffle and face him directly… That’s why I sent him such a bland, innocuous letter.”

Tiga: “Is that so…”

Letra: “...I never woulda thought that Riffle’s upbringing was worse than mine.”

Letra: “I get it now. Riffle was treating letters so carelessly despite being someone who’d know the importance of them because he was betrayed by them.”

Letra: “...Lease-san. If you think about it as being for Riffle’s sake, can you please write him a letter with all your thoughts and feelings about him in it?”

Lease: “But…”

Letra: “Do you want how things are with Riffle now to stay the way they are?”

Lease: “...No, I don’t want that… Got it, I’ll write one right away. Please wait for me at that cafe over there.”

Izumi: (And so, while on the way back after receiving the letter from Lease…)

Letra: “I wonder why Riffle even became a delivery person.”

Tiga: “This is just speculation, but… My guess would be that he couldn’t let go of his memories of his brother, or maybe that he still had hope for his brother in a letter… Or something like that.”

Letra: “I see… For some reason, I feel like it might be both of those things for Riffle…”

Izumi: (As soon as they arrive at the post office, Letra makes his way straight to Riffle’s house. He thought that Tiga would be coming with him, but…)

Tiga: “No, I think it’s best if you go alone, Letra. We’ll be waiting for you at the post office tomorrow. Now, go and give Riffle his older brother’s thoughts and feelings.”

Letra: “Yeah, got it.”

Letra: “Time for me to send the thoughts and feelings of a loved one to Riffle properly.”

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