#with the just let happen a la carte

[adrienneleclerc]

Slam the Door

Summary: Where Y/N slams the door on her boyfriend’s car to see how he would react.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this includes Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Max Verstappen, and Carlos Sainz Jr. since I am writing about them now

Charles Leclerc

Y/N and Charles were in the gas station. He filled up the car and got back in the car to get his wallet.

“Hey, I can go in pay for it, I kinda wanted some chips and a soda.” Y/N said.

“Yeah sure, Mon coeur, here’s my wallet.” Charles said, sitting fully in the car, handing his wallet to Y/N.

“Thanks, muñeco.” Y/N said, before slamming the door. Charles was startled, his face like when he hit the camera in Australia.

“What was that about.” Charles wondered out loud. “Did I do something? I don’t think I did anything, can’t be her period, she would have told me, can’t be her birthday, not our anniversary, what happened?” He could think about dome thing else since Y/N got in the car. “Why did you slam my door?” Charles asked

“What?” Y/N asked, opening her bag of chips.

“Why did you slam my door? Did I do something to upset you, or…?” Charles asked, starting his car.

“What? Of course not, it’s just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.

“Oh, okay, but did you have to slam the door so hard, the car actually shook, Mon ange.” Charles said, Y/N laughed.

“Sorry, muñeco, I didn’t mean to. But the car is okay.” Y/N said.

Lando Norris

Y/N and Lando were leaving the restaurant, they got into his car, Y/N looked in her purse.

“La concha de su madre, I left my ID at the restaurant, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.

“Of course, baby, be safe.” Lando said.

“I will.” Y/N said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Lando was in shock, rolled down his window, honked his horn to make Y/N turn around, and yelled.

“You muppet! Were you trying to cause a mini earthquake?” Lando shouted and Y/N was bent over, laughing. “What are you laughing about? I’m pretty sure my phone fell in between the seats.”

“Sorry, fresita, it’s was a TikTok prank.” Y/N said, walking back to the car and showing him her ID.

“Why can’t you be one of those girls who pulls the penal where they walk in on their boyfriends naked? I’d really like that one.” Lando said, starting the car to go home:

“Because that’s not a prank, Lando, that’s your dream come true.” Y/N said and Lando laughed

“Well you’re not wrong.” Lando replied. “Can you help me look for my phone when we make it home?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Logan Sargeant

Y/N and Logan were going to leave the parking lot when.

“Shit, forgot my phone upstairs, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.

“Alright.” Logan said. Y/N slammed the door and Logan started looking around the car and looked at Y/N through the windshield. “The fuck was that about.” Y/N walked back to the car with her phone in hand. She got into the car and Logan was staring at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N asked.

“Do you love me?” Logan asked.

“Of course I do.” Y/N said.

“Then why did you slam my door? It felt like that scene in Jurassic Park where the dinosaurs shook the whole ground.” Logan said and Y/N laughed.

“Don’t be dramatic, I barely slammed the door.” Y/N said.

“Im pretty sure there is a crack in window.” Logan said, pointing to the passenger side window.

“Haha, it was a TikTok prank, let’s go.” Y/N said.

Oscar Piastri

Oscar and Y/N were putting groceries in the trunk.

“Tiburóncin, can you start the car and turn on the A/C? I want the freezer meals to stay cool.” Y/N said.

“Sure, darling.” Oscar said, kissing Y/N before he enters the car and did as he was told. Y/N finished putting groceries away. Y/N opened the passenger door.

“Im gonna our the cart away, okay?” Y/N said before slamming the door to put the cart back. Oscar just blinked.

���That was weird.” Oscar said, Y/N got back into the car. “Is there any particular reason why you slammed my door? I told you, it’s not the store’s fault they don’t carry your pumpkin seeds.” Oscar said.

“First; they all carry pumpkin seeds, they just carry them raw or dry roasted and salted. Why the hell are there never pumpkin seeds dry roasted in their shells? Anyway, it was just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.

“Babe, this is my company car, you can’t just slam the door.” Oscar said.

“Sorry, tiburóncin, let’s go home before our groceries start to melt.” Y/N said.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis and Y/N were in the parking lot of the restaurant.

“Okay, loser has to pick it up.” Y/N said.

“No way, I picked up food last time, it’s your turn.” Lewis said.

“Fine, give me money to pay for the food.” Y/N said, holding out her hand. Lewis handed her over his wallet. “Thank you, cariño.” Y/N said and slammed the door when she left. Lewis rolled down his window and honked his horn, causing Y/N to turn. Lewis poked his head out the window.

“Did you seriously slam my door because I made you pick up the food?” Lewis asked. “I didn’t know you were so bratty!” Lewis shouted

“You can’t shout that shit out, sir Lewis!” Y/N shouted back

“Watch me! Pick up the food, the sooner we get it, the sooner I’ll fuck the best out of you!” Lewis yelled.

“Dude!” Y/N yelled before entering the restaurant, Lewis winked and blew her a kiss before pulling his head back in. Y/N came back. “I have the food and just for the record, I wasn’t being a brat.”

“Then why did you slam the door?” Lewis asked.

“TikTok prank, you know, it’s a Gen Z, think, you wouldn’t know since you’re a millennial.” Y/N teased.

“You’re trying to call me old?” Lewis asked

“Not trying, I am calling you old. Now I’m being a brat.” Y/N said.

“Oh you’re getting it when we get home.” Lewis said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Y/N and Carlos were in the Walgreens parking lot.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Carlos asked

“Alguien te ha dicho que preocupes mucho? It’s not like I’m in an episode of criminal minds, we’re in broad daylight, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll be back.” Y/N said, before kissing Carlos and slamming the door to enter Walgreens. Carlos jumped from the brute force. Carlos rolled down the window.

“Hija de tu madre, por qué haces eso?” Carlos asked laughing.

“Let me get my shit, okay!” Y/N went in and got out quickly, getting into the car. “Ahora sí, whats up?”

“Why did you slam my door? My car has done nothing to you.” Carlos asked laughing.

“Sorry, amor, it was a prank.” Y/N said.

“My poor car.” Carlos said.

“No seas payaso, let’s go home, I got your dog a treat.” Y/N said.

Max Verstappen

Max and Y/N were sitting in a parking lot.

“Hey, I’m gonna get ice cream, I’ll be right back, okay.” Y/N said.

“Okay, darling.” Max said. Y/N slammed the door when she left and Max just stared at Y/N walking away. He blinks and went back on his phone. “Wonder what’s that about.” Y/N came back.

“So I bought you ice cream, you can eat it now or just put it in the freezer.” Y/N said, showing him the cup with the to-go lid., Max stared at him. “What?”

“You slammed my door, why?” Max asked.

“It’s a TikTok prank.” Y/N responded.

“Okay.” Max said.

“That’s it?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, I know you’re addicted to the app.” Max said.

“I am not addicted, you take that back.” Y/N said.

“You slammed my door because of TikTok, you’re addicted.” Max said.

“Fine, it’s my ice cream now.” Y/N said.

“Okay, okay, you’re not addicted, let’s go, I gotta see my cats.” Max said.

“Ugh, I gotta take my allergy pills.” Y/N said, continuing to eat her ice cream as Max drives off.

Hope y’all liked it! I tried something different, should I do more posts like this?

[utilitycaster]

I think something really worth mentioning is that Dorian has pretty much been on the run since parting with Bells Hells in Jrusar - the Crown Keepers had to stay off the roads in their travels to avoid detection. For all that Bells Hells have had a time of it, they have had a few moments of respite, Team Wildemount especially, that Dorian simply hasn't had. And worse, most of the worst attacks have come from within and/or been deceptive ones - obviously Opal being over taken by Lolth, but also Fearne being lured away, Laudna in Zadash, Dominox, and Laudna again. And, of course, his brother, the entire purpose of his departure, has died.

I think the kindest thing Bells Hells can do for him is just make space for those feelings, hopefully address the Delilah situation with the current ritual, and let him figure things out. It might be that he still wants to kill the gods. It might be that he's more worried about specifically saving Opal. It might be that a chance to grieve Cyrus or even to breathe for a moment will change his mind, but it's entirely possible it won't. He was extremely quiet this episode; I'm not even sure he's ready to meet those feelings head-on quite yet.

More generally it's a bit like the god debates earlier in that there are characters I disagree with; but I'm saying this with a lot of knowledge that is not available to them. I don't think Ashton has ever had a worldview I would consider healthy, rational, or realistic, but I also think their cynicism comes from a very real place given their history. I think going on the Liliana assassination mission would have been an extremely fun option, but I get why Imogen wouldn't choose to do that. I (outside the text) don't agree with Dorian on an abstract philosophical level, but he's the character in the story actually being affected by events that happened to him. There's little more joyless than just jumping on to whichever characters embody your own personal positions and deciding they're right; feels a little like Brennan's note on propaganda, honestly, except a la carte cherrypicked rather than homemade. There might be some fun conflict but honestly, I think Dorian's also pretty disgusted with Ludinus in a way not unlike how Ashton feels, so it really may be they spend the remainder of the campaign with the attitude of "I'd gladly kill a god were the opportunity to present itself, but the Exandrian Accord seems to have room for people who feel this way but hate Ludinus more." An ideological argument, but not a practical one.

[garbinge]

Clean Cut

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, anxiety, worry, car accidents. Slightly angsty. 

Word Count: 1.2k 

A/N: Okay so I just caught up with all The Rookie seasons and I’m just LIVING for Chenford. Like LIVING. buuuuuut I noticed there wasn’t much Tim x Reader fic out there soooooo I figured why not! This idea came to my head at some point when I was watching and I also have like a whole story of their life beyond and before this moment but enjoy this little reworked snippet from 2x08. 

The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​

It had felt like a long day already and you had only been clocked in at the hospital for two hours. You still had 10 hours left in your shift and it felt like you experienced a whole day’s worth already. Being a corpsman for a Marine squad prepared you for a lot but sometimes the uniqueness of LA and the people who resided in it and tended to need your RN medical services at St. Stevens ran you for your money. 

Currently, you were updating patient charts during the lull that was likely to last all of two seconds but it beat staying an extra hour to finish your paperwork likely unpaid because the hospital rarely approved overtime for RNs. 

“Wanna tell me why it’s so crazy for a Tuesday?” 

The statement from your coworker caused you to look at them over your shoulder and let out a laugh. 

“I wish I had an answer to that, but I also feel like anything I say will jinx it even more.” You pushed the computer cart against the wall and moved over to your coworkers cart. “You’ve got like 15 pages here, what is this?” You picked up the manila folder that was larger than your normal ER patient folders. 

“Police car accident. There’s a few of them in the ER right now, these things always include tons of paperwork. Everyone needs to cover their asses.” 

Your heart started to beat faster at the mention of a police accident but what really caused you to go into panic mode was seeing your husband's name on the report. 

Before you could even answer your co-worker you were moving down the stairs, knowing the elevator would take too long. You knew the elevator would probably be quicker but the thought of standing still while you waited for and in it would drive your mind crazy so rushing down the stairs was the better alternative. 

Tim was sitting on one of the ER beds, the scene of it caused you to stop for a minute. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Tim hurt waiting to be treated. In all honesty this was probably the tamest medical treatment scenario you two had been in together. He looked fine from afar, but that didn’t stop the worry from boiling in your gut. 

“What happened?” You were next to him within seconds, the worry being the fuel of moving you from the staircase entrance to his side in seconds. 

“I rear ended a civilian.” Tim knew better than to try and calm you down with pleasantries and relaxing mantras. 

“Jesus.” Your hand moved to your pocket in search of your pen light. Quickly, you flashed it in front of his eyes, searching for his eyes to constrict and then dilate when you moved the light away. 

“They already did this.” Tim’s voice was neutral, but you knew he was annoyed. 

“Humor me.” Your head tilted, now your own annoyance was clear to him. 

His eyes softened as they met yours and he nodded which gave you the okay to keep running through the trauma checklist in your head. 

“This isn’t like you.” Tim said after a few minutes of silence between you as he humored you by lifting up his arms as you pressed down on his ribs and checked his reflexes. 

“In what way?” You talked as you continued to look him over. 

“I’ve come home and told you I’ve gotten shot at and you barely react, I tell you that I got into a car accident and you’re acting like I have internal bleeding.” Tim’s eyebrows raised. 

“Did they do a CT scan? You could have internal bleeding. Especially if the airbags went off.” 

“Doc.” The use of the nickname only 13 people in the world knew you as caused you to stop your examination of Tim and stand in front of him, slightly defeated. 

“If I worried about every close call you encounter everyday, I’d be dysfunctional. This.” You pointed towards him and the bed, “This is tangible. This actually happened.” 

Tim nodded and a smirk slightly filled his face. 

“You doubtin’ me, Sarge?” You frowned as you asked him, using your own nickname for him. 

“No,” Tim let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back up at you. “I know better than to ever doubt you.” 

“Smart man.” Officer Lopez walked up to the two of you with a smile. “How’s he doin’?” She looked between the both of you. 

“He’s fine. No signs of a concussion,” you looked at Angela and then back at Tim, “and no signs of internal bleeding.” You smirked at him knowing he was going to give you one back. 

“Give us a minute, Lopez?” Tim stood up and ripped the hospital bracelet off his wrist. 

“Yea, just wanted to let you know the break lights were cut in the car you hit, foul play, you’ll likely be in the clear.” She explained while looking at the both of you, relief coming as a sigh from both you and Tim. “I’ll be in the lobby.” She nodded at him and squeezed your arm to say goodbye before leaving the ER. 

“We goin’ back to the conversation we were having or a new one?” You asked Tim as he towered over you. 

“You pulled shrapnel out of my abdomen in Afghanistan and you look more worried checking me for a concussion.” Tim said with his arms crossed. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing.” Your one worded answer wasn’t convincing.

“Don’t lie to me.” Tim said more seriously than any of his other statements. 

You sighed, “Like I said, this is tangible. In Afghanistan, we weren’t exactly given the space to worry. Here, I feel like it’s all I have to hold onto. But again, if I held onto every worry I’d be dysfunctional. I know you can handle yourself when bullets are flying, when shit goes sideways, it’s these out of your control scenarios that just get me flustered.” You explained moving your hands around as you talked. 

Tim brought you in for a hug, knowing nothing he’d say could change anything. “You do realize, I’m the one that rear-ended the civilian, not the other way around, right? Totally in my control.” He teased you. 

“Not according to Angela.” You corrected him and he chuckled. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of your head. 

“See you tonight, I already texted Angela all the concussion signs in case we missed anything.” Letting your last bit of worry out. 

“You haven’t missed a single diagnosis or injury since I met you, Doc!” He called out from a few feet from you. 

“You know, I’m technically not a doc, anymore, Sarge!” You yelled out to him. 

He turned around with his arms up as he continued to walk backwards. “And I’m not technically a Sargeant anymore.” 

“Old habits die hard!” You yelled back just before the elevator doors opened and he stepped backwards into the elevator flashing you a quick smile before the doors closed and he was back on duty.

[python333]

Hello!! I absolutely adore your 141 platonic fics, I litterlay giggle and kick my feet when you post new storys about it. Especially since they're always gender neutral! Litteraly always check to see if youve posted a new fic, but anways!

I'm a really big sucker for found family mental health fics, especially when I'm experiencing rough times. If your comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could make the 141 catch Reader self harming or maybe just seeing the self harm on their arms accidentally and comforting them. Always love a comforting found family fic on cold nights.

If it's easier, I really love really any of your hurt/comfort type 141 fics with all my soul and eat them up anytime you post them. Especially since there isnt much gn!reader and TF 141 platonic hurt/comfort fics. So if you aren't busy than that's another option I would love to see!!

If your uncomfortable with it then that's fine and you can just ignore this post! Make sure to take care if youself aswell author. You're absolutely amazing! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

self-slaughter — python333

— — — —

synopsis reader is a medic and is caught harming themselves by the 141 in the medbay!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 6.6k

warnings self-harm [specifically using a scalpel], self-harm scars, dark thoughts [nothing too bad, but thoughts of pulling off your skin and harming yourself], painful wound cleaning [with iodopovidone], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hello anon!! i too am a big sucker for found family mental health fics, and completely understand this request, and i will happily write it for you!! a lot of this is based on my own experiences with this, so i hope that's okay and that you enjoy the fic!! as well as this request, i'll use this fic as an excuse to write a few prompts on my bad things happen bingo card, which will be displayed at the end of the fic! the prompt used will be: painful wound cleaning! expect wayyyy more angst after this LMAO. also, if this feels like glorification or anything else inappropriate for a fic like this, then please let me know! since it's mainly based on my own experiences, i assume it wouldn't feel *too* much like that, but still!

It gets kind of old after so long of doing it. 

Almost like it’s a chore—as if stealing glances at your medical equipment, tools meant to save the lives of others, and wishing that it were being used to draw blood from your body was just an inconvenience. You complain about it in your head like you used to about school, like it was nothing more than some homework that was due a minute before midnight. 

Right now, you’re alone in the medical bay. It wasn’t often that you were, typically two bumbling idiots would stumble in every few minutes talking about how they got injured while sparring, but for the past thirty minutes it’s been silent. While you appreciated the break from the constant explanations of why the soldiers you were to tend to had gotten injured, with the silence came very unwanted thoughts. 

And with nobody to focus on came your unwilling lingering stare at the sharp scalpel on the small metal equipment cart that was just a few feet away from where you sat. It didn’t help that you felt oddly guilty today, either. 

Well, the guilt wasn’t odd. You knew where it came from. It just felt odd, considering the cause for it happened a week ago. 

The cause had been on a critical mission last week, where you were responsible for carrying medical supplies and ensuring the team’s well-being and general health. The medical equipment wasn’t particularly expensive or hard to get, but it was still incredibly important. 

However, on that same mission, right towards the end of it, you’d been caught in the midst of an intense gunfight. Distracted by the heavy enemy fire, you dropped the small bag you’d been using to carry the medical supplies, and hadn’t noticed you did until it was too late. By the time you and the others were out and heading back to base, you had just realized you left behind the medical equipment. 

All week, your fellow task force members had reassured you that it was okay and that it wasn’t that big of a deal, considering nobody got hurt. Still, even a week later, you’re hung up on it. Had someone gotten injured, what could you have done? You didn’t have any supplies to help them, so what would you have done then? Just the thought of that possibility makes you shudder. 

The scalpel looks so tempting.

It’s not like you hadn’t used it before—you have the scars to prove you had, ranging from small lines that could be mistaken for cat scratches to tiger-stripe length cuts that make your thighs look as though they’d been mauled by a large animal. As elegantly as you describe them in your head, the visuals of them aren’t nearly as pretty. With the help of that scalpel, a few sharp needles, and some medical scissors, you’d successfully made it look as though a bear had tried to attack you and tear your legs off. 

Ironic, isn’t it? A medic harming themselves? 

Your job is to literally save the lives of others, and here you are, staring at the closest thing you have to a knife in the medbay. It’s become as easy as blinking for you—which is scary, honestly, the way you’ve developed a tolerance for cutting yourself and stapling your skin back together if you’ve cut too long or deep. 

It’s no longer enough to just scrape something sharp across your skin and watch blood bubble up from the broken seams of your flesh, no, now you have to cut even deeper to actually feel anything. You have to feel the scalpel being buried to the hilt in your flesh, and you have to see the way blood spurts out of the self-inflicted wound after you pull out the tool. 

You continue to stare at the scalpel, sure that you look like you’re in some sort of trance right now. 

It looks so tempting. You can remember the last time you used it—three days ago, the longest you’d gone without it in a while. Similar to cigarette-addicts, you often tell yourself that you’re able to stop whenever you’d like—that you’re able to quit at any time. It’s a lie, and you know it, but you still like to pretend that it’s true. 

You’re still staring at the scalpel. 

Its sharpened edge reflects the overhead light, creating a bright glow that strains your eyes when you stare at it for too long. The metal of the handle is worn down from use, even though it’d only been in the medbay for maybe a few months—something nobody had questioned yet, thankfully. The clean blade, replaced just yesterday, had no traces of filth or grime on it, making it even more tempting. 

You blink. You hadn’t noticed the burning of your eyes until you forced them away from the small knife. 

You move your gaze to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers, gently tugging at a hangnail that’s been lingering on your thumb for the past few minutes. As you pull on it, you feel the sting that it brings, though that sting now feels dull compared to the other things you’ve done to yourself. 

It almost feels like a small pinch compared to the ways you’ve mutilated your thighs on certain nights that didn’t allow you the energy to do anything else, or the ways you’ve carved apologies in the forms of lines into your arms to try and gain forgiveness for your thoughts and temptations. 

You pull the hangnail off completely and watch the miniscule droplets of blood bleed through your flesh and meet your skin and nail. Before you only had the energy to do your job and harm yourself, you would’ve hissed at the sting pulling off the small bit of skin caused you and grabbed a bandaid immediately, but now, all you can think about is how it isn’t enough. 

About how much better you’d feel if you pulled all your skin off. If you could feel every inch of your skin stretched to its limits and torn off of your body, because God knows you deserve it. 

The thought makes you wince. That is… disgusting. Why am I thinking about that? You shake your head in hopes that it would shake away the dark thought, but instead the action makes it rattle inside your brain and break off into tiny bits in pieces, small unwanted thoughts of wounding your flesh rolling around your mind. 

Similarly to Sisyphus and his boulder, you try to push those thoughts out of your mind, your hands starting to curl into tight fists, but you just can’t. Every time you push a thought back, it comes rolling back to the forefront of your mind, the momentum it gets from being pushed back so far only to get rocketed forwards making it even more unbearable to think about. 

The fists your hands have formed become tighter. 

Each thought that gets pushed back only jumps forwards once again, ricocheting around your brain, the effort of trying to ignore them making your ears ring. 

Before you realize it, your gaze snaps back to the scalpel. 

You don’t even notice the blood that begins to spill from your palms from how deeply your nails cut into your skin. 

Every thought tries to be louder than the other, creating an unholy cacophony of sound; a terrifying harmony that only grew louder every second that passed. You stare at the scalpel. It continues to reflect the bright gleam of the overhead light, and it continues to make your eyes strain the more you look at it, but you can’t find it in yourself to be all that bothered about the eyestrain. 

You unclench your fists and stand up, walking the short distance over to the metal medical cart where the scalpel lays, and you grab the handle of it with shaky hands. You look over at the door for a moment, and stay there for another few seconds.

Once you see that nobody’s coming in, you rush yourself to one of the beds, sliding open the curtains in front of it and sliding them back so that they’ll obscure anyone else’s view of you using the scalpel on yourself. 

You sit on the bed and although the scalpel almost slips out of your hand because of the blood from your palms, you manage to keep held in your tight fist, holding it like you would a pencil; tucked under the base of your thumb, and going through the gap between your index and middle finger. 

With your hands still trembling and your breath uneven, as well as a bustling mind that only grew louder as the scalpel in your hand grew closer to the skin of your forearm, you made the first incision. Almost immediately, your mind quieted, and your headache dimmed. 

Quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of a clear head, you lift the scalpel from your skin, not waiting to watch the blood bubble up from your open wound like you usually would, instead opting to make another incision right next to it.

Being a medic, there was nothing you could really do to stop yourself from thinking about how deep each incision was, and how deep you were cutting into your flesh—so while you cut yourself, a train of thought begun. 

Half an inch deep, You push the scalpel deeper, Now a full inch. Should take a month or two to fully heal. Wouldn’t scar. 

The thought of it not scarring should make you happy, or at least, neutral, but instead the thought makes you frown. Some odd hunger that comes from the indefinite pit in your stomach craves evidence for the malice you’ve shown towards your own skin, something that would prove your self-hatred. 

So, you go another half inch deeper. Scarring would be possible, but not as high of a chance as if you went another half inch. With that thought, you go the last half inch. There we go. 

You slide the scalpel blade through your flesh, the blade cutting through it like it would a firm fruit like a pear. It’s easier to cut through skin when the skin is pulled taut, You think, If only I had an extra hand.

You pull out the blade and repeat. You feel less guilty already.

All that worry about fucking up during your last assignment washes away, like the wave of guilt that overcame you earlier receded and pulled back that worry with it, lowering the tide of shame and self-reproach within you. In fact, the tide lowers so much that it almost completely disappears from your mind—like it never existed in the first place.

Reminds me of a tsunami, You repeat your actions with the scalpel, When the tides get low, so low that the ocean floor shows and you could walk where you’d originally have to swim, it’s because a tsunami is building up.

You look down at your work. Your forearm is a bloody mess, crimson red dripping down to your fingers and threatening to drop onto the stark white sheets of the bed you’re sitting on. You sigh tiredly and get up from the bed, putting the end of the scalpel’s handle into your mouth—ignoring the voice in the back of your head that reprimands you for not thinking about bacteria or contamination—and biting down to hold it whilst you slide the curtains in front of the bed to the side, walking out of the small resting area. 

You grab the scalpel and set it onto the metal medical cart by your desk, grabbing the gauze on that same cart, opening the small box it’s kept in with your non-bloody hand. It’s a struggle, but you manage it open, and you shake the roll of gauze out onto the cart. 

In the middle of you attempting to pull the end of the gauze off of the roll so that you could begin to wrap it around the red lines decorating your forearm, you hear loud footsteps walking near the medbay. You freeze in place, the gauze roll in one hand, your eyes burning holes through the door with how intensely you stare at it. 

There’s a knock. Then another. 

The door handle twists. 

You stare at the door, and everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second. 

The door opens. 

“Hey, dae ye hae any—” Soap walks in, the sergeant taking one look at you before cutting himself off with a confused and immediately worried, “Holy shit, whit happened tae yer arm? Are ye alright?” 

He rushes over to you and takes your bleeding forearm into his hand. You almost immediately rip it away from his grip. 

“Nothing! Everything’s fine! Just an accident,” You lie, holding the blood-covered forearm close to your chest, “I was just about to clean it up.” 

“Dae ye need help wrappin’ it, an cleanin’ it up, or anything?” Soap asks, eyebrows furrowed and his expression beyond worried. 

“Nope,” You insist, “It’s fine. All good here.” 

“... Ye sure?” 

“Uh huh,” You nod your head, “All good. Don’t worry about it.” 

“‘kay then,” Soap tilts his head and crosses his arms, “Whit happened?” 

“Just a little accident with some of the equipment,” You nod down to the bloody scalpel on the medical cart, “That’s all.” 

It must be obvious you’re lying, because Soap sighs and says, “I think we baith ken that that’s a lie.” 

You stay silent for a few moments, before Soap speaks up again, “Ye ken if ye dinnae tell me, I’ll jist jump tae conclusions, richt?”

You take a deep breath before mumbling something under your breath. When Soap’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, you repeat louder, “I used the scalpel. On myself.” 

“Ye whit?” 

“I used the scalpel on myself,” You look away, and rush out, “and I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t help it, it’s not like— like a normal thing or anything, it’s just this once, I swear, and— and—” 

“[c/n], calm down,” Soap quickly uncrosses his arms and sets both hands onto your shoulders, furrowed eyebrows now taking a more concerned shape, “It’s okay.” 

You take a deep breath and look at him, looking at his nose instead of his eyes because you don’t think you could handle eye contact right now, “I’m really sorry.” 

“Why would ye dae that tae yerself?” Soap asks, voice soft and almost pitying, which makes you want to curl up and die. 

You shrug, not wanting to answer verbally. 

“Dae ye— dae the others ken?” Soap questions. 

“No.” 

“I’m—” Soap looks conflicted for a moment, “I hae an assignment… I’ll get Gaz tae help ye, aye? An’ I’ll check in wi’ ye as soon as possible?” 

You hesitate, but end up nodding in agreement, thankful that Soap offered to get Gaz rather than one of the others. The others seemed so oddly scary right now that you don’t even want to think about how they’d react to this whole situation. It’s all gone by so fast—one moment you were sitting on a hospital bed, the next you’re found out by Soap of all people—you’ve barely had time to think about the others. 

“Okay. Okay, okay,” Soap repeats the word under his breath like a mantra, thinking to himself for a second before sighing and looking down at you again, “Jesus, fuck, okay. I’ll go get him, ye stay here, aye?” 

You nod again, this time your vision begins to get more blurred. 

“Ye’re gonnae be okay, okay?” Soap tries to reassure you. You nod once again, sniffling a little bit, making Soap’s gaze soften.

He takes his hands off of your shoulders and gives you one last sad look before turning around and rushing out of the medbay, his thundering footsteps growing quieter as he gets closer to Gaz’s location—most likely his sleeping quarters. 

You wait a moment and when you hear no footsteps, your gaze goes back to the blade. It’s not like it’ll hurt to do a few more. I’ll stop when the others arrive. 

You grab the handle of the blade, and as quickly as you can, akin to an addict scrambling for substance, you slice through the skin of your non-mutilated hand. You make several quick and deep gashes before dropping the scalpel onto the medical cart again, breathing heavy, the cuts this time actually hurting. It felt like fire was running rampant through your nerves, all stemming from the self-induced wounds, and you winced at the new pain. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but still.

When you hear footsteps again, you can tell they aren’t Soap’s. 

The door clicks open and in walks Gaz, already looking very worried—presumably from what Soap told him about your… situation—with another person in tow. Right behind him, Price walks in, expression neutral so far. 

Gaz looks over at you, his eyes widening as he sees the bloody gashes in your forearms. Without a second thought, he rushes over to you, his hand reaching for your forearm. Before you can stop him, he grabs your bloody forearm and pulls it up a bit so that he can look at it closer. You flinch, and Price quickly walks over to you two before Gaz can even utter a single word. 

“Let’s not, okay?” Price’s version of ‘knock it off’, “I’m here, I’ll take care of their… thing. You hand me what I tell you to. Understood?” 

“Yup— Yes, sir. Captain,” Gaz corrects himself quickly, making a slip-up that in any other situation would’ve made you at least chuckle, but all you can do now is stare at the pair as you hold your bloody arms to your chest. 

Price looks back over to you and nods over to one of the many empty curtain-surrounded beds and says, “Go sit over there and wait for a few seconds.” 

You nod, not knowing what else to do or say, and immediately walk over there. It’s the room furthermost to the right, the one that’s also the closest to the door and the one you’d coincidentally gone into to cut yourself. 

You slide the curtains to the side and sit down on the white bed, and just a few seconds later, just as Price said, he walked in as well. He sat next to you, Gaz in tow, the latter carrying a jar of cotton pads and balls as well as a bottle of Betadine.

Betadine—or iodopovidone, whichever name you preferred—was a sort of antiseptic that was generally used for cleaning cuts and wounds. Maybe not ones as deep as yours, but it would still work just as well. 

Despite it not being alcohol-based, or really having any alcohol in it, it still hurts the same as rubbing alcohol would, which you were… definitely not looking forward to.

“Sergeant,” Price takes the jar and bottle of Betadine from Gaz, “Go and grab the skin stapler for me.” 

“Yes, sir,” Gaz nods, walking out of the room once again. Price sets the jar and bottle of Betadine onto the bed beside himself after he leaves.

With you and Price now in the room alone, he turns to you and holds out his hand with his palm faced up for your arm silently. You carefully put your forearm onto his hand, watching as he gently pulls it closer to him, looking a bit closer at it before sighing through his nose and using his free hand to open the jar of cotton pads. 

“How did this happen?” He asks, breaking the silence. 

“Soap didn’t fill you in?”

“No.”

You think about what to tell him for a moment. What’s too straightforward? What’s too vague? How do I not overstep? How do I not sound like I just want attention? 

Eventually, you settle on, “I was— … I saw the uh… scalpel, and I just… decided to use it a little bit. On myself.” Definitely not the best you can do, but what else could you say? ‘Oh, I cut myself with a scalpel because I felt guilty and if I didn’t I probably would’ve had a panic attack or a mental breakdown’?

“…” Price pauses for a moment, eyes twitching for a split second before he continues his movements to grab a cotton pad and questions you, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“You know what I’m asking, [c/n].” 

He’s asking why you did it. There’s not one simple answer you could give him—sure, you could tell him that you felt guilty and it was a bad habit that you’ve told yourself you could stop but never tried to, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

You can’t fully express or dictate why you do it, you just do. It’s like when you cut slits into bread before baking it. Without those slits, the bread would crack and split at the seams on its own, but with them, the splitting and expanding of the dough is controlled. 

Except, with you, it’s like you’re cutting yourself before the tension building inside of you makes you burst at the seams. Taking a blade to your skin has given you a sense of control—maybe that’s why it’s so addicting, You think, it’s the only way I’ve been able to control my feelings. 

But you can’t just say all of that. Well, you could, but did you want to? Fuck no. 

Instead, you opt for shrugging, which doesn’t satisfy Price one bit. 

“I could see you thinking about it,” He sighs, “I know you at least have some sort of real answer.” 

Well, fuck. “It’s a long answer.” 

“I never said it couldn’t be.”

He doesn’t move to grab the Betadine at all, instead waiting for you to talk. 

You purse your lips and think for another moment before finally talking again, “I was feeling really guilty and tense, and I guess it just got too much, so I just kind of… had to. Like I felt like I was gonna fuckin’… I dunno, have a nervous breakdown or something. And honestly, it’s a really stupid reason, because the thing that I’m feeling guilty about happened like a week ago, but still—I’ve been feeling really guilty about it. It—It’s not like I can’t stop, if I tried I could, I swe—swear, and I just— it’s been really easy to just— you know? I— honestly, it’s not that big of a deal—” 

“Hey, hey—” Price brings a hand to your shoulder and softens his voice, “It’s okay. I understand.” 

“I ju—st… I’m sorry, I—” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, quickly bringing that same hand up to cup your jaw, “You’re okay. You don’t have to say sorry.” 

“But I—” 

“Shh.” You hadn’t even noticed how frantic your breathing had gotten during your small word vomit. And to just make things worse, there’d been tears gathering at your water line, well on their way to spilling over and creating tear tracks down your cheeks. 

You can’t help but let go of all the tension in your shoulders the moment Price starts gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. The moment he does that, it’s practically game over for you. 

Those tears spill out from the corners of your eyes and you can already feel your next breath get caught in your throat, leaving you to just let Price gently guide your head to lean forwards against his chest, letting out small hiccups and trying desperately to hold back the sobs you want to let out.

It all happened so fast, you don’t even know how you got here. One moment you were doing a good job of somewhat keeping your guard up, the next your resolve was crumbled completely by the gentle and oddly caring touch of Price’s hand.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, then someone walks in while you’re burying your head further into Price’s chest—Ghost. You can tell it’s him by the way he walks. He has long strides, he never drags his feet, and the moment he slides the curtains to the side to see you, his footsteps stop. They start up again a moment later, and he sits by your side, opposite of where Price is sitting—to your right instead of your left. 

Gaz must’ve let him in while he was looking for the stapler, You think, sniffling against Price’s chest. Normally, you would’ve felt some sort of shame by now, but given the current situation, you didn’t find much room to give a shit. 

You feel Price’s head move up slightly, and judging by the way he occasionally nods and sometimes moves his hands a bit, you can only assume that he’s having some sort of nonverbal conversation with Ghost right now. This conversation goes on for about a few minutes longer before you’ve managed to control your breathing a bit more. 

Price can tell, and he asks just for confirmation, “Is it alright if I clean your cuts now?” 

You nod and sniffle once before taking your head off of Price’s chest, looking down at your lap, simply holding out one of your blood-crusted arms to him. You can see Ghost stiffen up behind you almost immediately at the sight of it. 

Price grabs a cotton pad from the jar he was handed earlier, as well as the bottle of iodopovidone, and soaks the cotton pad with said iodopovidone. Once it’s soaked with the antiseptic solution, he hesitates before pressing it to your bloody arms. 

Almost immediately, you inhale a sharp breath and feel tears stinging your eyes again. 

“It’s okay,” Price tries to calm you down, seeing the tears forming in your eyes again, “You’re okay.” 

You sniffle and shift on the bed, trying to blink away tears that threaten to spill over your water line. Ghost, sitting by your side, puts a gloved hand over your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder. His eyes twitch as you bite the inside of your cheek to muffle another sob while Price presses another Betadine-infused cotton pad to your self-induced wounds, and although you can barely see him, out of the corner of your eye, you still catch the glint of new tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he watches you. 

Gaz slips back through the curtains in front of the bed, this time with Soap in tow, and hands a skin stapler to Price. Seeing the skin stapler, something you used fairly often—often enough that the others knew how it worked and how to use it—automatically made your stomach turn.

“Told ye I’d come back for ye,” Soap murmurs, kneeling down to get about eye-level with you. You huff out the smallest laugh at his words and he gives you a small smile that makes you want to go lock yourself in a room with a scalpel and repeat what you’d done earlier all over again, his empathetic expression paining you more than taking a blade to your arm.

As a matter of fact, the expressions that you wish were pity coming from everyone around you hurts more than anything you could’ve ever done to yourself. Their concern was so unexpected—not that you don’t think they care, but you never thought they cared this much. You didn’t think that, if caught in the act, you would receive empathetic looks and solemn smiles, rather thinking that you would receive reprimanding. That you’d be punished for punishing yourself. 

Price thanks Gaz silently with the curt nod of his head before turning back to you with a solemn expression that in all honesty makes you more guilty and disappointed with yourself than before. He holds the skin stapler like he would a hot glue gun, looking down at the open wounds in front of him, and holds your forearm closer to him so he can see the edges of the cuts better. 

"Keep your arm like that," He murmurs, to which you respond with a nod and stiffening your arm so that it stays in the air where Price positioned it. He uses his now free hand to gently pull the edges of the cut you'd made closer together, aligning them the best he can before pressing the metal staple dispenser to the cut and pushing down on the trigger, stapling the two edges together with a click. 

He holds it down for an extra second before releasing and pulling the stapler away from your skin, and although the process only took around three seconds, you'd never get used to the feeling of getting your skin stapled. You make a small, pained noise that has Soap wincing as well--as though he can feel it too--and Price looking more solemn than earlier. 

“Finished with this one,” Price mutters as you swallow down another sob, holding his calloused-but-soft hand out for you to put your other forearm in. You do just that, nearly breaking into a fit of new sobs at the small ‘thank you’ Price utters. 

You watch Price soak another cotton pad with iodopovidone with his free hand and suck in a deep breath as he presses it to your forearm, the originally white cotton pad almost immediately going red. Tears spill over your waterline and roll down your cheeks as he continues to clean and disinfect your wounds, and before you can move your free hand to wipe them away, Ghost does so for you, his rough gloved hand swiping below your eyes quickly. 

You mumble a small 'thank you' that's barely even audible, sniffling as you can’t help but lean forward the tiniest bit into Ghost’s hand as it lingers on your cheek. He pauses, keeping it there for a second, before bringing that same hand up to the crown of your head and pushing gently on it to urge you to lean your head back. You do so, the back of your head quickly making contact with his Adam’s apple and the top of your head becoming tucked underneath his chin. 

His hand goes back down to your shoulder and continues its ministrations of rubbing small circles into said shoulder, bringing you intermittent moments of comfort throughout the painful wound cleaning you had to endure. 

Soap keeps a comforting hand on your knee as he’s kneeled down in front of you, his thumb occasionally copying Ghost’s, but otherwise remaining still on your knee, careful not to force you through too many different sensations at once. 

Gaz watches you from by the curtain, seeming not to do and looking completely lost. He stands there for another moment, watching the others, seeing what they’re doing for a second, before giving Ghost a ‘one moment’ signal by holding up his index finger and stepping out of the curtain-surrounded area.

Right after he does, another painful sting shoots up your nerves from your forearm, and you make the mistake of looking down at it. 

Wounds that only fifteen minutes ago had brought you to a calmer state of mind and were nothing more than incisions made by the scalpel you’d used to cut other people for entirely different reasons now almost hurt to look at. Once you could’ve compared them to marks left by wild animals, and you could’ve described them as though they were trophies, but now, as you stare down at them being cleaned by your own captain, they look nothing like the sort. 

They don’t look like any of the pretty descriptions you’d given them. They don’t look like cat scratches you’d gotten in an accident, or like something you would get out of a fight with a bear—they don’t make you look strong and brave like you thought they did. 

They look like tally marks. Sanguineous, gruesome tally marks, made by you, like you’d been counting down the days—or seconds, minutes, hours—until you’d had enough. Until you’d had enough of just carving your skin with medical equipment, and needed something more. Craved something more. 

Price must notice you staring down at the wounds, because he pauses in his movements to clean them for a moment, the sudden stopping of the stinging sensation the iodopovidone-soaked cotton making you shiver. You look up at him, and see him already looking down at you, concerned. 

“You’re thinking about something,” He points out softly, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” 

You hesitate and look back down at your arm that Price had stopped cleaning, before mumbling, “Just thinking about how these are gonna scar.” It’s not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either. 

Price tilts his head to the side a bit, questioningly, “Do you know how they’re gonna scar?” 

“Well, when you work in the medical field for a bit, it gets easier to tell.”

You can tell he wants to ask how they’re gonna scar, so you decide to just say, “They’re all about one-and-a-half to two inches deep, so they’ll heal fully and then scar in a few months. Once they do, they’ll be visible, but not too prominent. The scarring tissue will stick above the skin a little bit, and it’ll make it look a little bit puffy.” 

“Alright,” Price hums, tone neutral, “So they’ll be… visible.” 

He sounds disgusted, A voice in the forefront of your mind insists, while one from the back of your mind tries to tell you, You have no way of knowing that, just see where the conversation goes. He has no reason to be disgusted with you.

“Yeah.” 

“Okay then,” Price sets the cotton pad down and grabs the skin stapler he’d been using earlier, “And it’ll take a few months to heal, you said?” 

“Several months, yeah.” Price considers this for a moment, pausing in his movements to hold the stapler to your skin. 

“Do you think you’ll need any help re-wrapping the bandages while they heal?” He inquires, resuming his movements after asking the question. 

“…” You think for a moment, Will you?, and after a few seconds, hesitantly, you reply, “… Yeah.” 

“M’kay,” Price hums softly, neutrally. “And would you want me to be the one who does it?” 

You think for another few minutes. Preferably, you’d be doing them yourself, but you didn’t trust yourself enough for that—so getting one of them to do it for you is your next best option. You wouldn’t mind if it was Price doing it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost, Gaz, or Soap did it either. 

“It doesn’t matter,” You settle on, before tacking on, “As long as it’s one of you four.” 

“Us ‘four’ being… ?” 

“You, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.” 

“Got it,” Price nods. You see Soap smile softly out of the corner of your eye before he quickly stops, trying to purse his lips into a line. He’s probably thinking that he shouldn’t be happy about that, You think, almost amused. You feel Ghost’s thumb stutter on your shoulder as well, before it starts back up normally. 

Your words affect them more than you thought they would. 

Breaking your train of thought, Price staples your skin with a muted click, making you wince. 

It’s silent for a few more moments before Gaz finally comes back, now out of breath and carrying a bar of chocolate. He hands you the chocolate bar and says, panting, “I almost had to spar someone for that. Why do you have to like the chocolate one of the other fuckin’ Lieutenants do?” 

You take the chocolate bar with your free hand gingerly and blink at it for a few moments before setting it down next to you. 

“Nobody told you to get it,” You shrug, before tacking on, “Thank you, though.” 

“Uh-huh, yeah, totally, hey so uh—” He looks at Soap and jabs his thumb towards where the door would be behind the curtains, “We’re both needed somewhere else. Again. They said they forgot something… again.” 

“Worst fucking timing ever,” Soap grumbles, before clearing his throat and standing up, looking down at you, “Right, I’ll check in on ye later, and help ye wi’ anything ye need me tae, aye? I’ll come wi’ mair chocolate than Gaz did, ‘cause I’m better than him.” 

“Got it,” You smile up at him, making him grin back and pat you on the shoulder Ghost’s hand isn’t occupying, before heading out with Gaz. 

Then, you’re left with Ghost and Price. 

“I should get going too,” Ghost mutters, slowly taking his hand off of your shoulder and gently pushing your head back off of his chest, almost regrettably. 

“M’kay,” You watch as he gets up and hesitates, looking like he’s about to give you a hug, before he decides to instead give you a simple head nod and head out the same way the two other operators did. 

And then, it was just you and Price.

It’s silent for a bit, until Price speaks up.

“You think a lot,” Price comments, finishing up the last staple. 

“Does that surprise you?” 

“A little bit, yeah.” 

You pause for a moment before sighing through your nose, “It’s nothing. Just the same stuff I was thinking about before.” 

“Wanna give me some more detail than that?” 

“Not really, no,” You admit, letting your hand fall into your lap as Price lets go of it, “But I have a feeling you’re gonna want me to tell you.” 

“I do.” 

“It’s just something stupid, like earlier—” 

“That wasn’t stupid, [c/n], that was you hurting.” 

“I— I know. It’s just that this is actually stupid.” 

“Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You think about how to phrase it in simple terms for a moment, before finally speaking, “I used to think that the scars sort of… symbolized how I was able to control myself and my emotions, and that made me feel…” You can’t think of any synonyms to make the simple words you want to say sound less childish, so you’re forced to say, “… brave. And strong. I just— I thought it showed that I was good at controlling my emotions and stuff, for some reason. But now I’m questioning all of that.” 

“You’re very brave,” Price reassures you, and God, it sounds like he’s reassuring a child, “And you’re so strong. But this… this isn’t how you show that. This—cutting yourself—doesn’t make you either of those things. It doesn’t show that you’re either of those things. It shows that you need help.” 

“But you just said that I was strong.” 

“I did.” 

“… Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”

“How would I be contradicting myself?” Price asks. 

“You said that me— me… harming myself shows that I need help.” 

“It does,” Price hums, and at your confused expression, he continues, “You needing help doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. Needing help and being strong aren’t connected like that.” 

You open your mouth to argue but you close it, not knowing what to say. Price sees this and smiles knowingly, simply grabbing your hand to squeeze it once before getting up. 

“I’ll check in on you later, okay? I need to get some stuff done, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to keep you company. Or I’ll send someone else over—whichever you prefer.” 

“M’kay,” You mumble, squeezing Price’s hand back before letting go. “You can do whatever. I don’t mind either one.” 

“Sounds good.” Price pauses for a moment before leaning down and giving you a quick hug, and then beginning to slip past the curtains blocking any outsider's view of the bed you were sat on.

Before he can leave, you quickly say, "Thank you. For the wound-cleaning-thing."

He pauses at the curtain for a second, before smiling and replying, "You're welcome."

for those curious, the bthb card so far:

[luvnami]

shinazugawa sanemi is NOT the love interest of my dream office romcom! - chapter 5 (let me)

an | been struggling to continue this series, i’ll do my best to see it to completion, though >< more notes at the end, find the masterlist here cw/wc | emotionally unavailable!sanemi, dead dad mention, mdni (18+), 1.9k+

It’s hard to forget you’re on a work trip when Shinazugawa is extremely anal. Moreso about ticking off every item on your project checklist, and less so about actual sodomy. It starts with him insisting you take a million photos of Kaiji Beach, one of the few places in the world where star-shaped sand exists. Okay, maybe not a million, more like a hundred, but it’s enough for you to get annoyed because all Shinazugawa does is stand to the side and bark orders at you. 

“The lighting changes depending on the angle of the photo, so make sure you get it all,” he yaps. 

Does he think you’re some kind of professional photographer? You only learned how to angle your phone for the perfect mirror selfie just last year so that you can avoid that cringe 45 degree Millennial phone tilt. You’re busy trying not to overheat under the Okinawa sun (although it’s autumn and the weather isn’t that unbearable, you would rather not be standing in the middle of an open beach) as Shinazugawa has his hands on his hips, the wind tousling his fluffy hair. 

You wonder what would happen if you shove Shinazugawa into the sea. He’d flail his arms and fall face-first, getting his white linen shirt soaked through to the skin. You hope he knows how to swim in knee-deep water – you’d hate having to deal with a court case of first degree manslaughter, à la perverted desire to see his chest and abs sticking to the wet shirt like some sort of cologne advertisement. 

Once he’s decided you’ve taken enough photos of the beach, Shinazugawa insists you squeeze onto a water buffalo cart with some overly eager foreigners. The water buffalos were originally used in Okinawa for farming and transporting goods, but now it’s more of a tourist attraction.

If you had a choice, you’d be perfectly content observing the cart from the sidelines, but you prefer keeping your head on your neck, so you oblige. While Shinazugawa gets seasick, you’re easily carsick. It takes all of you to not barf on the lap of the stranger sitting opposite you in the cramped vehicle. Each bump the cart rolls over makes everyone sway side to side like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. 

Your shoulders bump into Shinazugawa’s and you sit with your back hunched to make the contact seem less on purpose, more accidental. It makes you think about your knees touching earlier on the flight, giving you something else to focus on besides the fact that you haven’t eaten since you touched down, and that your empty stomach isn’t helping your carsickness. You really don’t want to vomit in front of Shinazugawa. You spend each second counting the next one that passes, fingers curled into tight fists. 

You’re so queasy that you don’t notice Shinazugawa’s ears turning comically pink. He’s so close that he can smell your perfume and it’s making him heady in the best way possible. He squeezes his eyes shut, grounding himself as he thinks about the most unsexy thing he possibly can to stop the blood from rushing to the extremes of his body. Somehow he starts thinking of his dead father. He sobers up real fast after that. 

You barely have time to collect yourself once you stumble off the water buffalo cart, because Shinazugawa trudges ahead to Kondoi Beach, a few minutes walk away. You follow after him like a newborn deer, knees knocking together. You curse and shake your fist at Shinazugawa’s broad back. Oh, if only he wasn’t built like a Greek god. It’d make hating him so much easier. 

You hope Shinazugawa trips over a rock and eats shit. 

He wonders what brand of the perfume you’re wearing, and how to casually bring it up in a conversation. 

Kondoi Beach is the only swimmable spot on Taketomi Island. Shinazugawa’s sins are forgiven as you gape at the light blue waters that stretch as far as the eye can see. It’s beautiful – an endless mirror that reflects the blue of the sky. You start snapping photos before Shinazugawa starts badgering you all over again. The water is so clear that you can see the fine, white sand that makes up the shoreline, and you’re eager to dip your feet in. A pleasant breeze cools your skin. 

You kick off your shoes and step into the water, curling your toes into the damp sand. The cold water rolls over your feet and licks at your ankles, then shies away back into the sea. There aren’t as many people as there were on the Kaiji Beach. You and Shinazugawa are practically the only people in the vicinity, with a family playing in the sand a distance away. 

“It’d be nice to swim here.” Shinazugawa suddenly appears behind you. 

You jolt, nearly dropping your phone in the water. Jeez. Jumpscare, much.

“Well, you could. I’m not stopping you.” You shrug. “You might as well take the chance since we’re here.”

Shinazugawa waddles into the water next to you. He’s thrown off his shoes somewhere near yours, and watches as the water crashes over his feet. Excited giggles of the family ring through the air. 

“I would, but I forgot to bring a towel.”

He seems forlorn and you feel a twinge of pity.

“You brought your swimsuit, but not a towel?”

Shinazugawa nods silently like a child being reprimanded. He even goes as far to dig around in his tote bag and pull out his swim shorts. They’re plain and black, doing nothing much for your wild imagination. You put a hand over your mouth to stop the laugh that nearly escapes you. The almighty Shinazugawa Sanemi forgot to bring a towel to the beach, is sad about it, and is showing you his boring swim shorts. It’s so silly that you’re at a complete loss for words. Shinazugawa busies himself with folding the short back into a compact square.

“Should we take a break here? We’ve visited the more important spots today, we can finish up the rest tomorrow,” you suggest. 

Shinazugawa agrees. The last place that you need to photograph would be the sunset on Nishi Pier, but there’s still another hour till then. You step out of the water and dump your bag on the sand. 

“Do you want to sit down? You can use my shorts so that you don’t get sand on yourself.” Shinazugawa offers you his swim shorts again. The pure innocence on his face makes you feel bad if you don’t accept his humble offering, so you thank him and spread his shorts out so that you can sit on the sand. What the actual fuck? You watch Shinazugawa venture back into the water, rolling his pants up so that he can wade in a little further. The sand starts to crust around your feet and ankles. 

It’s an odd gesture, but a thoughtful one, you suppose. You don’t know what other situation would have Shinazugawa offering you his shorts. You’re a little puzzled. Maybe the Okinawa air’s good for irritable people. He’s much more appeasable than in the office, and had only snapped at you once today – all because you lost your footing while running in the sand on Kaiji Beach, although it was out of concern more than anything else.

You use a hand to shade your eyes and stare at the invisible horizon across the sea. Strange. You don’t hate it (the ocean or Shinazugawa? You don’t want to answer).

Shinazugawa splashes around in the water for a little longer till he gets bored. He collapses on the sand next to you and lets his feet dry off, wrinkling his nose at the sand that sticks uncomfortably to his skin. You have your legs stretched out in front of you. Shinazugawa keeps his eyes focused on a single grain of sand that rests on his right shin, gathering what little restraint he has left to not indulge in imprinting the image of your bare legs in his mind. 

There was one post you blogged about that made Shinazugawa embarrassingly hard (yes, hard. Forgive a man for having manly desires). It was some sort of oral scene, and the protagonist had their legs wrapped around their partner’s head. He thought about your thighs caging his ears, the heat of your cunt on his tongue, and gripping your hips till they bruised. That is exactly why Shinazugawa cannot look at your legs for the life of him, because he’ll end up dreaming about that exact position all over again. 

“It’s really nice here, huh?” he croaks out. 

You glance at him. You can’t figure out why Shinazugawa is staring at the sand like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, but you’re not brave enough to ask, either. 

“Yeah. It is.”

After a while more of awkward silence, you shake the sand off your legs and return the swim shorts to their rightful owner. The both of you spend the rest of the time cycling around the island till the sun starts to sink below the sky and you arrive at Nishi Pier, famous for its beautiful sunset view. The island is far quieter in the evening with most of the day-trippers gone. 

You trot across the pier, coming to a stop where seawater laps at the edge. The sun’s almost disappeared and you’ve taken enough photos to get a memory space warning on your phone. The last of the warm, orange light makes the glassy water look like an expanse of molten gold, and you let the sound of the crashing waves overwhelm you for a few seconds. 

Your mind empties. You don’t think about work, about writing, about anything at all. It’s tranquil – even if just for that quarter of a minute. The peace barely lingers before you start worrying about the rat race you’ll return to on Monday, the crowded trains and bright city lights, the office full of printers churning out copies and colleagues begging their clients in that high-pitched customer service voice. 

It’s inevitable. Maybe things could be different in another life. You’d live in a castle full of riches and jewels, be a demon-fighting hunter in the Taisho era, or have thousands of fans fawning after you on social media. Instead, you’re a carbon copy of every other working adult in Tokyo, slaving away in a cubicle that feels like a jail cell and living in a one-bedroom apartment that you can’t exactly call home. 

Monday. You’ll ride the packed train, write your stuffy report about Okinawa, eat the same sandwich from the convenience store, get scolded by Shinazugawa, then rinse and repeat the whole cycle again the next day. 

There’s no escaping it. Not now, at least, while your savings account barely has anything in it and your insurance policies are less than a decade in motion. You’ll live a life of dirty dishes in the sink, a laundry basket that piles high a day after it's empty, and dust that gathers on your shelves no matter how many times you clean it. Days bleed into weeks and seasons end before you realise. Repetition’s supposed to be comforting, not mundane, though you suppose there’s a fine line between those two definitions. 

You open your eyes. The sun has fully set and the island is dark, save for the house lights that glow from curtained windows. 

Maybe one day you’ll have a life where time feels like it’s worth passing. 

You turn back to Shinazugawa, who's waiting for you at the end of the pier. He watches you walk back to him and he tightens his grip on his phone, a single picture of you engulfed by the setting sun locked away in his gallery. 

He wears an unreadable expression. 

“Dinner?”

The wind tickles your cheeks. 

“Yeah, dinner.”

Shinazugawa gives you a small smile and you forget to breathe.

an | inspiration for this chapter was taken from this video, you can see all the locations mentioned in the okinawa arc :) the swim short situation was inspired by a friend’s first date, where the date wanted to swim at the beach nearby but he forgot to bring a towel. he also offered his swim trunks to my friend to sit on so she wouldn’t get her pants dirty. some men are insane, but also funny i guess.

[berylcups]

La Squadra x Reader: What makes them laugh

CW: suggestive behavior (Melone being Melone), getting scared, food, spicy food, annoyed pets( no pets real or imaginary were harmed in this post), gamer rage, language barriers, minor DNI

Notes: some of the videos suggest may or may not be offensive to you or your morals (mostly referring to cart narcs and some Gi Joe PSAs) so please view at your own discretion and mental health in mind! This is a post made for funsies and not meant to harm in anyway. Humor is subjective and as someone with privilege but also is AuDHD there maybe somethings I overlooked. Just know that Beryl loves you all and cares about you all 💜 Also regarding Prosciutto…he might be a little OOC. The only real humor I could see him having is like boomer humor or political humor but that is such a gross yucky subject and I want to keep this post as positive as possible. I hope I did him justice! I hope you enjoy either way! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

What type of humor do they have?: dark humor/ jump scare reactions

How do they laugh?: he has a low deep rumble of a chuckle when he does laugh it almost sounds like an evil villain’s laughter. It’s a little intimidating! But don’t tell him that we want him to laugh more! 🖤

Anything you do make them laugh?: anytime something makes you jump he can’t help but let out a chuckle. Whether someone shows up in your line of sight suddenly and it startles you, or a loud noise makes you scream like a crack of lightning.

You were in the kitchen of the base sneaking a piece of a cake, you knew nobody else was home so you could easily steal the last piece of strawberry cake. You felt so evil, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself!

As soon as you took a forkful and put it near your mouth, a flash of lightning struck and you felt a massive hand on your shoulder with hot breath on your neck.

“…that’s the last piece…I hope you plan on sharing it Y/N…” you heard a deep voice rumble.

The pure rush of adrenaline jolted through you like the lightning outside and you jumped up, dropping the plate and letting out the most high pitched pathetic screech. The plate shattered all over the kitchen floor completely ruining the cake.

“Damn it Risotto! Don’t scare me like that!” You whined. “Stop being invisible and show yourself!”

He chuckled as he revealed himself, he had a rare shit eating grin on his face.

“Sorry… I really couldn’t help myself. It was the perfect opportunity to get you like that.” He snickered as rubbed your head.

“Sigh…I’m happy that you are enjoying yourself. But I almost peed myself and I dropped a perfectly good piece of cake.” You whined.

“Well I hate to say it but karma is a bitch. That’s what happens when you try to sneak off with the last piece.” He smirked as he got out the broom and dust pan.

“And I would have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for you being a creeper.” You huffed.

What types of videos make them laugh?: jumpscare reactions- especially if it’s older people playing the scary maze. He thinks it’s hilarious! But he feels bad when he sees little kids get scared, that’s not funny to him 😞 any kid age 12+ though is fine with him- it’s time for them to grow up 😈

Any examples?: nothing specific- look for videos of people getting tricked into getting jump scared 😅 like scary maze, the video of the car driving down through the hills, FNAF, etc.

Formaggio

What type of humor do they have?: funny memes/ voice over parodies

How do they laugh?: he starts off with a goofy low deep chuckle then as it progresses it turns into a roaring laughter where he’s gasping and holding his stomach. Very infectious 🤭

Anything you do make them laugh?: This guy is all giggles! It’s never hard to make him laugh. But his favorite thing is when you reference his favorite videos.

“Hey hey hey~! Get off the counter Asiago!” You scolded the cat. The grey furball turned its butt at you and continued to prance across the counter. “Oh? We’re playing this game huh? Don’t make me give you a body massage~…”

“Who wants a body massage?”you asked in a deep voice, picking up the cat off the counter before she could escape.

“Mister body massage machine GO” you aggressively rubbed the cats belly.

“Pfft hey~! Where’s my body massage?” He laughed watching you playfully manhandle the cat.

“Make me some pork chop sandwiches and maybe zaddy will give ya a body massage!” You struggled to say through your giggling.

The cat was fed up with both of your guys bullshit and jumped out of your arms and ran off hissing.

What types of videos make them laugh?: GI Joe PSAs, Jaboody Dubs- he loves silly voice overs of his favorite American cartoons. Taking them out of context and rewriting the dialogue makes him want to piss himself from laughter.

Any examples?: Pork Chop Sandwiches! I’m a computer, stop all the downloading!

Illuso

What type of humor do they have?: “nailed it “ humor

How do they laugh?: He laughs just as obnoxiously as he does in the dub. Its very unflattering and he sounds like a hyena. Despite that, it’s very contagious!

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you tried to make cute rainbow cupcakes and all the colors bled together making it look like an absolute disaster. The icing melted and the rainbow candy wouldn’t retain its rainbow shape...Its just a sugary sticky mess.

“Ha-Nice job. Very well done.” Illuso snickered. “It looks like a leprechaun vomited all over your cake pan!” he howled.

“It looks so fucking miserable! Did you even try???” he cackled. “Next time, leave the baking to me!”

“Oh fuck off Lulu.”you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. “Anytime I pintrest anything, it always-ALWAYS goes wrong.”

He wiped the tears from his face as he tried to calm himself down from his high.

“Hey, hey… Calm down Y/N. Baking is very fickle. I’ll help you out next time. You did the best you could. Trial and error is unfortunately part of the baking process” he said rubbing your back.

“I just really wanted some cute tasty cupcakes…”you pouted.

“I could tell. You didn’t let the cupcakes cool long enough before you put the icing on them. That's why it melted right off.” he stuck a finger in one of the cakes and tasted the frosting. “Mmm…still tastes good though. Lets just eat them anyway. Ugly cake is still good cake.”

.

What types of videos make them laugh?: “Nailed it” show, parkour/stunt fails, live tv bloopers/ fails, makeup fails

Any examples?: grape lady falls

Pesci

What type of humor do they have?: cute animal humor

How do they laugh?: he tries to hold back his laughs but fails with an adorable snort. He has a giggle that sounds like pure joy from an angel. 😇 It’s a big belly laugh and it’s hard not to laugh along with him. Hearing his laugh is always going to put you in a good mood! 😁

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you panic and freak out holding an upset octopus that you accidentally caught while fishing.

“lil guppy~! Put down the camera and help me~! Ow ow ow!” You squealed trying to pry to the angry octopuses suction cups off of you.

“My poor precious pearl! Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” He quickly took a few more pictures of your scuffle with the cephalopod and walked over to gently but firmly pull the tentacles off your face and chest.

He wrangled the fuming octopus and gently but swiftly removed the hook from it. He then he quickly dropped it back into its home in the sea.

“Oh thank god… Thank you Pesci. You’re my hero!” You sighed in relief and rubbed the sore spots the suction cups left.

. “You’re very welcome Y/N. I’m just thankful you’re okay. You weren’t in any real danger. Octopus encounters are just really uncomfortable.” Pesci looks at you and your red splotches, making a gentle giggle.

“What’s so funny??” You whined, putting hands on your hips. You were annoyed he was laughing after a moment like this but knowing how kind he was you’d give him a moment to explain himself.

“The octopus gave you a bunch of welts making it look like you have polka dots!” He laughed light-heartedly. “ you poor thing, I’ll have to give you some cream to help your irritated skin.”

“Sigh… I’m so accident prone. Maybe it was a bad idea to join you on your fishing trips.” You pouted.

“No! Not at all!” He said, giving you a big reassuring hug . “ I love having you with me! I want you to come with me all the time!…only if you want to of course.”

“I’d love too.” You smiled. “As long as I don’t catch anymore angry octopi.” You softly giggled.

What types of videos make them laugh?: he loves watching cat and dog videos of them being silly and doing goofy things! He has a wholesome sense of humor.

Any examples?: Today I groomed a new species | the weirdest cat ever. Cat barking like dog. Dog of wisdom

Prosciutto

What type of humor do they have?: instant karma

How do they laugh?: he has a deep, rich laughter. It sounds very indulgent. It starts out with a mild wheeze then a chuckle that rumbles out of his chest. He has a habit to put a hand to his forehead and shake his head before he really starts laughing. If you have a voice kink his laughter might make you start acting unwise 😳

Anything you do make them laugh?: it has nothing to do with his type of humor but you underestimate something. You were weak to heat but you thought you could handle some of Prosciuttos pasta arrabiata. You… couldn’t handle it at all.

You were having lunch with your beloved partner. You were eating Gnocchi Sorrentina and he had Pasta Arrabiata. It looked so good and smelled good too. You wanted a taste.

“Hey Prosci, let me have a bite of your pasta pretty please? It looks sooo good!” You said trying not to drool.

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m more than happy to share amore, but it’s very spicy. I know you don’t do well with spicy foods… are you sure you want to try it?” He asked.

“I know I’m weak to spice but it can’t be THAT spicy. Your nose isn’t even running and you're not sweating! I can handle it!” You reassured him. “May I have just a bite please?”

He seemed a little wary but he took a forkful and guided it towards your mouth.

“Okay amore. Here you go. Open up.” He said bring the fork closer to your lips.

You opened your mouth happily inviting the food into your mouth. You chewed as you felt your senses overcome you. Perfectly al dente pasta and a delicious tomato sauce tantalizing your taste buds.

“Oh my~! Prosci it’s so goo-“an unsettling sensation overcame your mouth. You felt your nose get runny and the sweat begin to form on your skin. The heat in your mouth has made itself known. You could feel it in all your soft tissues, your throat, and even your teeth!

“So..so hot!” You panicked. You jump up from your chair and scramble to the sink to drink water directly from the tap.

Prosciutto wheezed and let a hearty laugh out of his chest.

“I told you it was going to be spicy Y/N!” He wheezed.

“I didn’t think it was going to be THAT spicy!” You gargled. “Ahh~ the pain won’t stop!”

“Drink milk amore. Fats neutralize the capsaicin.” He chucked as watched.

You slammed open the fridge and grabbed the milk and drank straight from it, not caring it was for Pesci. You’d buy him a new one. You drank the rest of the leftover milk panting hard.

“Feel better?” He asked.

“ Yeah… the pain is gone. But now I’m going to have to worry about my lactose intolerance later…” you panted. “I owe Pesci a new milk jug.”

“We’ll worry about that when we come to it.” He said kissing your forehead.

What types of videos make them laugh?: anything to do with instant karma or people getting what they deserve… he looks like he’d enjoy public freakouts/karens getting what they deserve 😂

Any examples?: nothing specific, maybe CartNarcs? He’d like watching people messing with others and then they end up failing at their pranks or they end up getting served 😅

Melone

What type of humor do they have?: “That’s what she said “/ dirty minded humor & video game humor

How do they laugh?: he starts with a giggle and has a somewhat feminine light laugh. It’s very attractive

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you get frustrated playing video games and falling at them. 😅

You were sitting in front of the tv frustrated. You KNOW if you did enough backwards long jumps in rapid succession you could get through the endless stairs and to the final fight with bowser.

“Ugh… come on! It’s soooo hard!” You moaned in frustration.

“That’s what she said.” Melone snickered as he watched you helplessly try to glitch your way up the stairs.

“Ugh shut it Mel.” You hissed.

You kept trying and trying… no success. Your hands were beginning to cramp up.

“Aaah~! My hands! They’re cramping! Finish already!” You bitched.

“That’s what she said~.” He giggled louder.

“Melone! Not right now!” You barked.

“Now now Y/N… it’s just a game ~” he waved his finger at you.

You got so close, but your hands cramped up and spasmed. You had enough and threw your controller to the side.

“WELL FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!” You screeched. “ I give up!”

“That can be arranged ~” he purred while rubbing your shoulders. “ Calm down Y/N, it’s just a game… if you want you can take frustration out on me if you know what I mean ~.” He said kissing the shell of your ear.

“Sigh. ok, fine.” You giggled. “ You always know how to put me in a better mood.”

What types of videos make them laugh?: video game glitches, bad video game hacks

Any examples?: streamers or lets-players: ex: Vargskelethor, Vinesauce, Jerma, (my top 3 personally!) or overly popular YTubers like Pewdiepie, Markiplier, etc…

Ghiaccio

What type of humor do they have?: typos/ illiteracy/ misheard words

How do they laugh?: he always tries to hold his laughs in a “Pffft” if it’s really funny he wheezes before he laughs hard holding his ribs. It’s rare but he does laugh!

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you struggle to roll your R’s and say an Italian word but in the wrong way.

“Ghia~ can you bring me the pene for the pasta salad?” You asked, chopping the vegetables.

“Pffft what did you say?” He asked holding back a chuckle.

“You know! The pene pasta! The tube shaped pasta with the tip at the ends!” You said trying to be more specific.

“I have a pene but not pene PASTA.” He wheezed. “We have PENNE pasta.”

“Uh duh! That’s what I just said! What’s gotten into you today?” You huffed grabbing the bowl of pasta out of his hands.

“Y/N… Pene and Penne are two ENTIRELY DIFFERENT things.” He chuckled while wiping a tear from his eye.

“They sound the same! You just say the N a microsecond longer. It can’t be THAT funny! So tell me what I’ve been saying!” You whined

“Cock pasta. You said you were making cock pasta. Not very appetizing if you ask me. Penne is what you want to say- that means pen. Hence the pen shape of the pasta.” He snickered.

“So that’s why all the guys were laughing at me when I was raving about pasta arrabiata with penne?! And you didn’t fucking tell me???” You screeched.

The blue haired man crumpled into a laughing mess gripping his sides. “You can’t blame me for that fuck up! It was a perfect Language barrier!”

What types of videos make them laugh?: misheard lyrics and song parodies, Bone-app-the-teeth type compilations

Any examples?: how is prangent formed? Curse of the weggy board

[dilfartist]

May I request a Part 3 for the Leon las plagas fic?? It's just so!!! Exciting!! How reader reacts to the pregnancy? Weird side effects??? Does Leon's aggression turn into more smothering affection? Do the scientists conduct physical tests on reader (how does Leon react to that??? Does he have to be restrained? Is he present?) Her thoughts as shes kept in relative isolation? Does she bond with the baby she's carrying (talking to the bump, playing games)?

Missed - short (pt.3)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; Visiting Leon after your check-up

Reader description; Female/GN

Edited: No, Yes

Word count; 1k

TW; kidnapping, forced pregnancy, SA mentioned.

Notes; {Last part! Also, very sorry if this isn’t a good ending just wanted to post something to get me into writing again.}

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

“Mrs.(Last name), your breakfast is ready.”

The radiant lights flick on, nearly blinding you despite the dark blanket covering your face, gaining an irked groan from you. It takes an effort to lift yourself, the additional weight in your abdomen making it a laborious act. “What is It?” you utter, voice raspy.

A Nurse enters the room. She hauls in a full tray of food. Providing you with a polite smile, she set the tray on your blanketed lap. “This morning we made you: pancakes, bacon, and eggs; just as you requested yesterday.” You nod showing acknowledgment, returning her polite smile. “After you eat, we’ll start with your check-up. Okay?” you nod once again and she takes her queue to exit.

It’s been four prolonged months since you conceived the baby, or what the scientists declare “experiment 12,”. While your time staying here hasn’t been the best it’s beginning to feel like your new life.

You follow a schedule: first breakfast, then a check-up, maybe a meeting with Leon, and whatever else happens throughout the day.

The food here is okay. Truth be told you wish you could have a burger, maybe even convince one of the workers to stop by a fast food joint. Unfortunately, the scientists prefer for you to eat what they provide and only what they provide. Some day you’ll convince them the baby wants it. Maybe then they’ll get it.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mumble to yourself. You get out of bed and head over to your wardrobe, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a random comfortable shirt. It was nice of them to bring your clothes from home, they were way more comfortable than what they had suggested you wear at first.

“I’m ready,” you call out, knowing they are watching you from the other side of the glass. A doctor enters the room clutching a pen and clipboard. She pushes in a cart of medical supplies, “Hello, Mrs. (last name),” she sings, “How’s you and the baby?” She sits on the chair adjacent to your bed, patting the edge to encourage you to sit as well.

“We’re fine.” you groan, lifting your body up to take a seat beside her on the bed.

“Hm, still no out-of-the-ordinary cravings for pregnancy - no pains?”

“No, still none.” you sighed, looking down at your pregnant ample belly.

Throughout your pregnancy, everything seemed to be normal. You had the same cravings as any other woman, the normal discomforts as other pregnant women- everything appeared expected for a pregnant woman. It provoked worry from both you and the scientists. The normalcy in the pregnancy could lead to an abnormally painful birth or an abnormally formed baby; as hypothesized by the scientists.

You look up to see her documenting the given information on her clipboard. “I’m still allowed to see Leon, right?” you inquire, tone a bit desperate. She glances up from her paper and smiles at you, “Yup! After we’re done, I’ll take you to his chambers.” She clicks her pen and the blue ink tip withdrawals. Putting away the pencil, she pulls out the medical supplies and begins to examine you.

She runs a couple of tests which take about twenty minutes. Then she gets to your belly; gently she touches around the round flesh, her fingertips slightly poking at you not enough to earn your discomfort. You watch as her brows begin to furrow slightly, growing in intensity after every couple of seconds that her hands explore your belly. From your point of view, it’s like she’s checking a fleshy watermelon, gently shaking and poking at it.

After a while of poking and rubbing you like a crystal ball, she holds your stomach for a minute, and her eyes widen slightly. She bends down and lifts your stomach.

“I finally found something anomalous,” she says triumphantly, a smug grin spreading on her face as she perks up at you. You peer down at her, curiously attempting to look at yourself but ultimately failing due to your belly’s size. “What? What is it?”

She stands tall pulling off her blue gloves. “Your stomach is heavier than a normal pregnant woman’s.” She ambles to the trash can by the door and disregards the gloves. “I don’t know why I haven’t noticed it before- maybe this happened overnight or something.” She shrugs.

Now that you consider it, you have noticed other pregnant women don’t find normal tasks as difficult as you do. Well, they obviously do find it hard- you meant from what you’ve been told by the doctors. Usually, women rate their pain as a five or six. You’d rate your pain as a seven or eight in recent days.

Instinctively, you began to caress your stomach. How bad would it hurt during the birth procedure? Wouldn’t the heavier the abdomen mean the heavier the baby? Your eyes widen and suck in a quivering breath. She takes notice of the change in mood, asking what’s the matter. You explain to her your concerns resulting in her chuckling, “There is a possibility of the birth being a bit hard, but I assure you, you’ll be in good hands.”

She leads you out of your room where two security officers are awaiting your arrival. They greet you with a nod of their heads, then continue to look onwards. You’re escorted through the plain white hallways until you finally reach a heavily gated metal door. One of the security guards walks over to put in the code, ensuring his back faces you. The doors open wide and you depart the doctor's side to enter.

Listening closely you can make out the dialogue from taxi driver playing at a medium volume. You shut the door behind you softly.

Leon sits in a wing chair, one leg across the other, slouching back with his head resting on his palm. Leon can usually detect when you’ve entered the room by your scent and the sound of your footsteps, but he was too captivated by the movie. Cute.

You tip-toe over, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. Resting against the top part of the chair you tap the top of his head. Leon jerks forward slightly, he looks up, ruby eyes meeting yours. It takes him but a moment to realize it's you. He grins at you, “You surprised me.” he comments with a chuckle.

“Really? I thought I gave you a hard attack.” you giggle. You take your seat in the other wing chair pointed toward the television.

Leon smiles softly at you. Good, you think. Leon was starting to show off his emotions more openly now.

After the night you had conceived, Leon avoided you like the plague. His mind was guilted with the knowledge of what he had done to you. The person he swore he’d never hurt. It took weeks for him to look you in the eyes. About a month to finally start talking to you continuously instead of spewing a few words as a response to you. Now he was showing his emotions off after a couple of months.

“How was today's check-up? You did have one today right?” Leon questions, slightly moving his chair in your direction.

“Yeah the baby is still healthy but we found out it's really heavy.”

Leon nods his head taking in the new information. You decide to question him on his time away from you, “what about you? Anything new?”

Leon absentmindedly fiddles with his fingers, he recalls his day in slow-formed sentences, “Well, they finally told me when I’d be able to continue working.” Leon had been wanting to get back to work sometime, he’d been asking every month since his captivity. “They say I’ll start next month.”

You hum, “That’s great, baby.”

“It's good and all,” Leon starts, leaning back in his chair, “but I hope I’m not out when the baby comes.” Leon didn't trust anyone in the building when it came to the baby’s delivery. He wanted to be there not only for your safety but to unsure they wouldn’t try anything.

“We still need to decide the name,” Leon notes.

Leon lets out a small sigh, displaying a small smile. He looks at your stomach, “That reminds me, what about the gender? Do you know it yet? Did they tell you?”

“Oh, yeah! Give me a second.” You abruptly stand, hurrying your way as fast as your swollen feet can go to the door. You tap on the door. Tap, Tap, Tap. The door opens slightly ajar, and the doctor peaks in slightly. “Is everything okay?” her eyes flash worry. “Do you have the paper for the baby’s gender?” her worry dissipates, “Yes.” she slides in a vanilla envelope through the crack.

You close the door and make your way back to Leon. Presenting the vanilla envelope to him, he turns to you quickly, eyes slightly wide. “Should I open it, or you?” you sing, waving it in the air.

Leon focuses on the envelope, lips pursed in thought. His eyes softly turn to you, “Could you, please?”

“Okay.” you oblige, teasing him by moving ever so slowly.

“...what do you think?”

“...is it a boy?”

You grin at him not uttering a single word. Leon isn’t sure if his assumption is correct or not, so he asks for the second option. “Is it a girl?” This time instead of making him guess you nod your head.

A smile crosses Leon's face, but it's different from any other you've seen from him. It’s genuine. It wasn’t like Leon never smiled, just a few minutes ago he was- this was just different. He had a smile you could only capture when the subject of a candid photograph isn’t aware of the camera.

Leon is the first to move, hugging you tightly and slightly rocking your body along with his.

If it weren't for the circumstances of the situation, perhaps you too could find unconditional joy in the moment. Yet you can’t. At the end of the day, this child could tear you to bits. At the end of the day, you could die because of the possible unatural birth. At the end of the day, you could be shot down like an unuseful dog after their experiment is finally birthed.

You know the pleasure you feel in these moments will soon come to a soul-crushing end, so traumatizing you’ll awake in a cold sweat many years later if they have not disposed of you.

For now, you’ll indulge in the normalcy of the situation as much as you can.

For soon that will come to a crushing end.

[idrkwhatthisisimsorry]

Flying to Italy pt. 2

Description: Y/N finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her with her best friend, and decides to take the trip she had planned with him to Italy anyways, but alone. But she meets Harry along the way, and so it goes... Does she decide to stay with Harry, or is it too soon and too fast? Or will she forgive her boyfriend? Only time will tell.

Warnings: nothing, really! Just Harry

Word count: 2K

Masterlist

A/N: heyyy!! new part. I hope you guys like it, nothing really crazy happens, but Harry's finally here, stuff is going to be picking up soon, so stay tuned!

I spent the next couple days trying to get everything in order so I wouldn't be stressed out of my mind on this trip. It was supposed to be a month of relaxing by the pool, on the beach, in cafes, etc. And now I was going to have to figure out how to not cry the entire time I was there.

I met up with Collin to let him know what was going on. I didn't want to have to be the person to break the news to him, because no one wants to hear that kind of news, but I though better to hear it from me, someone who just went through the same exact thing with the same people, rather than hear it from Lily who probably would've fed him some kind of lie to portray the situation in her favor.

He was extremely heartbroken, which I knew was going to happen. We honestly both just cried together in shock about the whole situation, and he decided he was going to cut ties with her as well. I told him I was going to go on that Italy trip anyways, and he was more than welcome to come with me, but he didn't want to be reminded of what that trip was going to mean for him, so it looked like it was going to be me alone on that trip.

...

The past few days had been exhausting. I would be fine one minute, and then just break down crying the next. It's not easy losing your best friend and you boyfriend all in the same day, and it was really difficult coming to that realization and trying to cope with it. So being in the airport just three days later, knowing I was going to be on a flight from LA to Italy for about the next twelve hours was not a calming thought. I was probably going to sit next to some stranger that smelled funny the entire time, instead of who was supposed to be my loving boyfriend.

The second I got on the plane I put my AirPods in, blasting Fleetwood Mac as loud as I could, and put a sleeping mask on. I was going to sleep on this flight for as long as I possibly could to try and one the world out.

And I was very successful in doing that. Almost the very second that sleeping mask was on, I was passed out. I couldn't hear a thing, and I was happy I achieved my goal. Until suddenly, I feel someone nudging my shoulder. I couldn't hear or see them, all I could feel was them pushing on my shoulder a few times until I finally regained my consciousness. I took off my sleeping mask and took out one earbud on the side of the person who was annoying me. "What?" I said, groggily and annoyed. I immediately regretted it once I looked over and saw who it was. It was Harry fucking Styles. Holy shit. "So sorry to bother you, but they're bringing the food cart around and you've been asleep for quite some time, and I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss out on the food in case you wanted some." He said, anxiously, not wanting to upset me further. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, thank you. Just been a rough week." I said, chuckling, and then turning to the flight attendant as she brought around the food cart, asking me my preferences.

We both ate in silence next to each other, and it killed me not being able to immediately text Lily who I was sitting next to. She was the biggest One Direction and Harry fan ever since we were teenagers. Anytime anything happened with Harry, I knew. I wasn't as big of a fan as her, not because I don't like his music or anything, because I do, but because I'm just not much of a fangirl type of person like she is. I was nervous to break the silence and say anything to him, but he got rid of that fear for me, and spoke up before I got the courage to.

"Rough week, huh?" He asked, a small smile on his face. "Oh, you really don't want to hear about it, it's kind of a lot." I said, looking down, kind of shy, because I didn't want the first time I ever spoke to Harry Styles to be me telling him about how my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. "I've heard just about everything, and we do have like six more hours left of this flight, I don't know how many more movies I can watch." He says, with a bright smile on his face. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you. But only if you tell me why you're on a commercial flight to Italy first." I say smiling. "That's an easy one. I don't have my own personal private jet. I have one that I use but it's not only mine, and it was in use today, but I really wanted to go to Italy, so I just booked the first first class flight I could find, and luckily there was a cancellation on this seat and I took it." He said, hesitating before he said the next thing, "I'm assuming that has a reason to do with why it's been a rough week?" I groaned a bit before looking at him to say, "Possibly... Ugh, you are going to be the first person I'm actually telling about this, so... who knows. But uh, basically I was supposed to go on this trip this month with my boyfriend, my best friend, and her boyfriend." I said, pausing so I wouldn't start crying in front of Harry Styles. He looked at me, weirdly supportingly, and said, "What happened? I get it, you don't know me, you don't have to tell me if you really don't want to. I can watch a few more movies. But if you want to tell me, I'm all ears." "Basically, I caught them hooking up in a bar bathroom like four days ago. My best friend of twenty years and my boyfriend of ten. I had to break the news to her boyfriend, who is also one of my best friends. They all canceled their tickets, but I've been wanting to come to Italy for years, and I thought it might be a good way to get my mind off of everything. We'll see. A lot of the stuff I planned for us to do was like specifically couple stuff, so I'm pretty much just going to be winging it the whole time I'm there, which isn't exactly comforting in a city I've never been before, but we'll see!" I say, the last part sarcastically.

It's gotten to the point in the breakup where I'm more bitter than anything. Yeah, I lost my boyfriend and my best friend, but clearly they're very shitty people. It just sucks having lost both of the people I talked to more than anyone else in the world at the same time. "Holy shit, it sounds like a rough week. They're assholes, I'm so sorry. Italy's amazing, though, you'll find fun solo things to do. I'm here solo, it's a fun place to be." He said, trying to be encouraging, but I wasn't a millionaire who could just rent my own private yacht and find fun things to do as easily as he could. "Thanks, it's just weird, they've been my whole life, and now they're not. Like for instance, Lily, my best friend, would have already gotten a text that I was on a plane right next to Harry Styles, she happens to be obsessed with you. Obsessed. And not in the healthy way, not that there's a healthy way. But now I have to just keep it to myself. And Jackson, too. She roped him into her obsession with you. Sorry, now I sound kind of like a crazy fan. I didn't scream when I saw you, though, you have to give me that." He stared at me, kind of looking like he was trying to hold back laughter. "You're not obsessed with me too? I would've bet money on it from the way you looked at me when I woke you up." He said, laughing bit as he said it. "Okay, I'm not going to say obsessed, but I have been told everything about you via Lily. And I do enjoy your music. But don't flatter yourself, I'm more of a Fleetwood Mac kind of girl." He throws his head back in laughter in response to my words. "Oh really? So I mean, you've got to be a little obsessed. You know everything about me! But, I understand the Fleetwood Mac thing. You were listening to them on repeat. Uh, I'm actually planning on meeting up with Stevie tonight a little after we get there, you're totally welcome to come if you want. I'm sure she'd love to meet you, and you seem chill enough." He said, a little too nonchalantly. I was not going to respond the same way. "Oh my god, are you serious? Are you seriously inviting me to meet Stevie Nicks? Oh my god. Sorry sorry sorry. I am chill. I swear. I can be chill. I would absolutely love to come if all that I just said didn't change your mind." I said, way too fast to be a chill response. He just laughed. "You're good, I'd love to have you there."He said, smiling at me.

...

The rest of the flight was like a fever dream. Me and Harry talked the entire time. About pretty much anything and everything. I talked a little too much about Lily and Jackson, probably, but Harry listened to everything I had to say, and completely hated them by the end of the flight.

After we got our baggage and went to the car pickup station, I began to order an uber to the nearest hotel to try and see if I could get a room, because we cancelled our big two-room suite, and I needed just a regular one room one now, but Harry turned to me and said, "Hey, you don't need to order an uber, I have a driver, I can give you a ride to your hotel if you'd like. Where are you staying?" He asked me. "Oh, I don't know yet. We were all supposed to stay in a hotel together, but now that it's just one of us instead of four we cancelled it, so I was just gonna try and find a hotel." He looked shocked when I said that, so I raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh, you can't be serious! Finding a last minute hotel in Italy is not a good idea, you're going to get overcharged like crazy because you're a foreigner." He said, looking genuinely worried. "Well didn't you book your trip last minute? What were your plans to get a hotel exactly?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip. "I don't need a hotel, I have a house here. I have like fifteen guest rooms. You're staying in one, not some shitty last minute hotel." He said, very matter-of-factly. "Oh my god, Harry, you absolutely do not need to do that, I'll be fine. What if I was psycho? What if this was some whole act and I actually am a crazy fan and you just invited me into your house? I'm supposed to be here for a whole month!" I said. "Well I guess I'm just going to have to take that risk, then," He said, looking over to a large black SUV pulling up to us, "Oh look, there's the car. Come on let's go. I give really good tours."

[turtletaubwrites]

The Mouth of the Beast ~ Part 23

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji X Robin

This is part 23 of the poly series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Word Count: 1779

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 13 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

!!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7/Enies Lobby arc (through episode 267).

Summary: The Straw Hats are reunited, and make plans with their new allies to invade Enies Lobby and rescue Robin. Zoro pulls you aside as the crew barrels toward danger, but is there enough time to say what needs to be said?

Rating/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Polyamory, Pet Names, Swearing, Kissing, Angst, Fluff, Relationship Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This one's pretty short, but it's a small break in the action before the crew splits up again. I hope you enjoy it!

“The train’s here! Get on the roof!”

Wide eyed, you and Usopp climbed up with Sanji, the rain still bearing down against the metal of the stranded cart.

The light in the distance was heading toward you fast, and panic climbed up your throat.

“H-How,” you stuttered as Usopp dropped his Sniper King voice to yell.

“They’re gonna hit us!”

You watched in horror as Sanji grabbed onto you and Usopp, and over the light of the train you saw green hair and a straw hat.

The three of you were grunting and screaming as Luffy’s arms stretched out, flinging you through the air toward him. You managed to catch a glimpse of Zoro as he used his three sword style to demolish the cart, clearing it from the tracks as the train sped on. 

Sanji steadied you, helping you climb into the well lit cart. 

A sweet, citrus scent wrapped around you as Nami pulled you close.

“You okay, noodle arms?”

Squeezing her with a laugh, your breath hitched when your swordsman climbed back in.

Nami stepped away, and you heard Sanji catching everyone up on what happened on the other train.

A rough hand grabbed yours and pulled you along, moving you past groups of people you didn’t recognize, until finding an empty cart.

“Zoro, wait, we need to go listen to the plan.”

You tugged at his hand, teary eyed, and trying not to fall apart.

His lips crashed onto yours, his hands cradling your face, and you sobbed against him. You were sure he was tasting salt as your tears flowed. Clinging to every part of him in reach, you let yourself melt into him.

Zoro was stroking your hair and your back, but he pulled away just enough to look at you. 

There was so much in his eyes, and you felt everything bubbling under your skin.

But we don’t have time.

“Zoro,” you breathed, tears stinging.

He brought his hand back to your face, thumb tracing along your cheek. His voice was more like a warrior’s than a lover’s.

“I’m so sorry. We’re gonna do whatever it takes to get her back.”

“Thank you.” 

You held onto his wrists as Robin’s voice filled your mind again, along with the hope of having Zoro’s strength beside you. 

“It’s not for you, Needy. She’s part of our crew.”

You’d seen that look before, and you knew he meant it. The thought both comforted and terrified you as he led you back to the group, hands never leaving your body as you listened to the plan. 

You were grateful for his warmth, and the pressure of his fingers on your skin, because they were the only thing holding you in place. Fighting the urge to slap yourself, you tried to focus on the plan, but it felt like your ears were ringing.

Digging your nails into your palm to keep you present, you learned that the new allies were the workers of Galley-La, the shipbuilder’s company of Water 7, as well as the Franky Family, who had so recently been your enemies. Even the old woman from the lighthouse, Kokoro, was here, driving the train through hell.

These strangers and ex enemies were now willing to lay down their lives to help you.

“Remember, if they take Robin through the Gates of Justice, it’s over. Any chance of a rescue is going to happen before they open,” Nami ordered as she reviewed the map provided by the blonde Gally-La worker, Paulie. “The Gates of Justice are at the back of the island, but first we need to get through the main gate, then the Tower of Justice.”

“That’s right,” Paulie affirmed, clearing his throat as he looked around at the crew. 

“There’s only about 60 of us against at least 2,000 marines and government agents in there. We won’t stand a chance against CP9, so you guys need to focus on taking them out.”

Your body tensed, and you saw Nami’s eyes widen, but Luffy just nodded as Paulie went on.

“The rest of us will buy you time. Galley-La and the Franky Family are gonna split off now on Franky's boat. We’ll hit the front gate, and take out as many soldiers as we can. We’ll clear you a path, no matter what it takes. You Straw Hats leave the little guys to us.”

The nods from the strangers in the cart chilled your blood.

They’re going to get massacred charging in like that. Why are they doing this?

There was no way or time for you to ask as your allies started filing out.

“Alright, so we’ll hang back while they cause as much of a diversion as possible, then we’re slamming through the fence, right?”

You were surprised that your mouth was moving as you checked in, but Nami nodded, wrapping up the map. 

She glanced around, lips pursed as she stood to look into the next cart. 

Your allies were gone, and the crew were all here. All except for-

“Luffy,” Nami screamed as she stuck her head out of the window, looking toward the Franky Family’s large ship.

“Damn it,” Nami muttered. “He said he understood the plan.”

“He doesn’t seem like the type who can wait for five minutes,” Usopp observed, his Sniper King voice still booming while Zoro laughed.

“We should have known.”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to punch or kiss Zoro as his laughter shook through his words. 

“Let’s go watch for the fence,” he said as his laughter faded, tugging on your elbow. “It won’t be long now.”

Sanji gave you a soft smile as you passed, Zoro pulling you up to the roof again. 

Dawn had brightened the sky, the storm finally passed. The change could be a blessing or a curse for your mission, but for now you were just happy you weren’t being rained on.

All that happiness died the second you caught sight of Enies Lobby. 

It was still a ways off, but the train was moving quickly. The island of gray stone buildings and iron fences would have seemed domineering on its own if it wasn’t set against the Gates of Justice. 

Enormous metal doors towered over the ocean, the symbol of the World Government reflecting in the morning light. The sight of it made you sick as you thought of everything that had happened to Robin because of that symbol. People wearing that mark with pride had destroyed an entire island, then hunted a child down to finish the job. 

Rage shook through you, until Zoro pulled you to him. Then it was fear in your blood as everyone you loved was barreling toward the mouth of that wretched beast. 

I’m done being afraid. I’m a Straw Hat pirate, I will not be a coward.

Pulling back from your swordsman, you took his hands in yours, and studied his face, memorizing every line. 

He was your crewmate, your friend, your lover. Memories flooded through you of all your times together, and you fought the tears. 

This is not goodbye.

“Zoro, I…” 

The small crease between his brows distracted you as his thumbs traced along your hands. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while. I was afraid. But that’s stupid.”

He frowned slightly, tilting his head while you rambled.

“I’m not saying this because of where we are, okay? I’m saying it because it’s true, and I want you to know.”

“Needy-”

“I love you, Zoro.”

Zoro let out a heavy breath, then pulled his eyes away from yours, looking toward the chaos you were about to be thrown into. 

The beat of your heart felt louder than the train below you as you waited. 

His face was drawn when he turned back to you, and you felt dissociated, part of you shouting soothing words through your mind that everything was okay, no matter what he said. Your hands felt clammy now as they still gripped his.

“I’m sorry, Needy.”

“N-No, it’s o-” you forced out, shaking your head too much.

He leaned toward you, sighing as he moved his hands along your arms, settling below your shoulders.

“Fuck, I. It’s not like that, I just… I didn’t think you could, Needy. Not with all of us.”

Your mouth fell open as you tried to process. Zoro squeezed your arms as he tilted his face closer, deep eyes searching yours, his voice almost too soft over the train.

“But you do, don’t you? You love Robin?” 

“I do,” you breathed, barely audible over the engine, hands shaking as he nodded slowly.

“Probably the waiter too, huh?” 

Your lips pulled tight before you could think, holding in a laugh of surprise at his reluctant question. He just looked down, shaking his head, and you felt all that fear again. 

Zoro’s fingers trailed down your arms, and a small gasp escaped you as you waited for him to pull away. 

But he took your hands, lifting them both to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and your knees almost buckled from relief.

The fence was getting closer and closer every second, but you couldn’t look away from him. 

He closed his eyes, taking in another deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn't trust you, Y/N. I’m not good at this shit.”

“I know.”

You let out a nervous giggle at how quickly you had responded, and he narrowed his eyes while a small, perfect smile teased his lips.

“Shut up, Needy,” he laughed, bringing his hand to cradle your chin, making your eyes flutter for a moment.

“I, uh… I love you too.”

In that moment you weren’t hurtling toward danger and death, you weren’t aching for your splintered crew. 

You were just his, and the spark of happiness in his eyes warmed you to your core. 

“I love you,” you almost screamed into his mouth as you pulled him down for a kiss. His laughter vibrated through his chest, wrapping you in a feeling of joy and safety. 

But he pulled away, hands gripping your shoulders. His look froze you, the illusion of safety shattered by the tone in his voice.

“Get inside, tell everyone to hang onto something. Hurry!”

“What are you-”

“No time, Needy, hurry!”

Fighting against your need to keep touching him, keep looking at him, you scrambled to crawl back inside. Your mouth went dry when you saw the fence, and watched Zoro unsheathe his swords.

“Everyone hang onto something! Now!”

Clamping your eyes shut, your entire world was reduced to the screams of your crew, and the crashing and scraping cacophony of metal tearing through your mind, plunging you into chaos.

Into the mouth of the beast. 

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Part 24

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969 | @onlybassoon01 | @apothicgloom | @slyhersophia | @cyberaestheticals | @nothing-but-brass

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this one! 💚

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[baby-alien11]

Memories: Scream Premiere (Y/N Ulrich Universe)

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @camiesully @ethanlandryluver @nowitsmissing @aliciacat20 @gabbylovesreading @nikfigueiredo @itsaaliyah2

The end of 2022 and the start of 2023 were a bit crazy to describe it in a way, from the Avatar premieres, the Critic Choice Awards, Jack going to film another movie and you starting to prepeare for your VFX make up career while doing some campaigns for a few brands

But fortunately, march arrived and with that the Scream VI premiere in New York along with the press tour, and just like in december, the living room was a mess with clothes, shoes, accesories and things like that

"I can't wait to wear this bad girls", you smiled admiring your Valentino red platforms

"Wear your tiara to add more drama", Skeet joked

During early february, a small bussiness sent you a tiara with black stones as a gift, which you loved so much that you bought a crystal clear box to display it in your closet

"Dad, if I wear the tiara, I'm going to enter the list of nepo babies everyone hates", you pointed, "And I don't want that"

"A list like that really exist?", Skeet frowned

"It's unofficial, but it does", Naiia responded, "We're not in there"

"But we made a cameo on the NY Magazine nepo baby article", Jakob said, "That was wild, I printed it and hung it in our living room"

"You sounded like Toto Wolff on that episode of Drive To Survive", you laughed, "I have it, I have it printed out"

"That was iconic", Jakob noted, "I'm still waiting for the day he and Christian Horner have a fist fight, I truly believe Toto could beat the shit out of him"

"Or even better, a fist fight between all team principals", Stutz commented, "I'm betting on Guenther"

"Nah, Guenther would just sit, watch and laugh at the fight", you said, "But Zak Brown could beat some of them"

"This year is the Las Vegas Grand Prix, it would happen", Megan pointed

"Are you seriously thinking about adults fighting each other?", Skeet asked still folding clothes

"Which of them are you betting on?", you returned the question, "If we put them in a cage fight"

"Fred Vasseur"

With that answer, the five of you let out an audible gasp for the unexpected answer due to none of you thought of the Ferrari team principal as a potential winner of the fight

Due to none of you had to do a lot of press for the movie, you only had a shared interview with Jack for 'The Drew Barrymore Show' the day after the premiere, the flight was programmed on early saturday, arriving the same day during the afternoon and being stopped a few times at the airport because of fans asking for photos, autographs and even giving small gifts

During the road to the hotel, on Twitter you saw fan accounts posting about the arrival and insta stories from the people at the airport tagging both of you, at what you liked them and sent them a small message in apreciation for waiting at the airport

Arriving at the hotel, you sent Jack a text saying that you arrived while all of you registered to get the room keys and go to the rooms, on the elevator, you recieved a text from Coco Arquette

Coco 🥥

dude, are you here yet??

Y/N 🔪

omw to my room at the elevator

Coco 🥥

can i go??

mom is doing press and i'm bored

Y/N 🔪

ofc

my floor is the eleven

room 1107

Coco 🥥

omw

"Coco is coming", you informed, "She's bored"

"She's attending the premiere?", Skeet asked

"Yep, she's wearing a red dress, very Gale Weathers of her", you responded

"And you're wearing a black dress, which is very ghostface of you", Skeet pointed

"I know, is amazing", you exclaimed, "And we even didn't planned it, that's the best part"

Leaving the glam team on their designated floor, the elevator continued until it stopped at the eleventh floor where the concierge stepped out first with the cart with the luggage to led you to the suite, where while walking close you saw Coco leaning against the wall beside the room door

"Gale-Dewey", you exclaimed claiming her attention

"Billy", she exclaimed back

Since the two of you met a few years ago, both of you often refered each other as your parents characters

"Hi, I missed you", you said hugging her while the concierge opened the door to leave the luggage inside

"I missed you too", Coco said separating from the hug to enter the room with you, "Hi, uncle Skeet"

"Hey, kiddo, how's it going?", Skeet greeted with a fist bump, "Courtney knows you're here?"

"I sent her a text but they're doing press, so she hasn't seen it", Coco shrugged helping you with your luggage while you went to the small kitchen to grab snacks and something to drink

"I'll still text your mom to let her know you're here", Skeet said

"Dad, we'll be gossiping in my room", you anounced entering into one of the rooms

"Have fun and make sure there aren't any hidden microphones or cameras"

Closing the door and leaving the suitcases next to the closet, both of you took off your shoes to sit on the bed and open the snacks and drinks

"You won't guess who talked bad about me", you said while eating from the bag of Skinny POP popcorn

"Who?", Coco asked taking a sip from her Orangina juice

"Tana Mongeau"

"No fucking way! What did she said?"

"Well, I knew about it because a fan on Tik Tok sent me the clip of her podcast, basically she said that I came out of nowhere, that I was going to take advantage of Jack's fame and then jump into another famous guy, that I will be forgotten or live based on scandals, and that my fashion sense was basic as fuck"

"What the hell is her problem? You have been building your career since you were twelve during Riverdale with the cameos and the behind the scenes videos, your multiple campaigns with brands, you did a GRWM for Vogue a month ago, and she's more known for her scandals, didn't she had a baby she didn't know as a wallpaper?"

"Kylie Jenner's daughter, Stormi, it was so creepy, I'm glad they called her out"

"And please, basic fashion sense? You are one of the best dressed people I know, are you going to respond to her?"

"No, I'm going to ignore her, she doesn't deserve my energy"

"Well said", Coco nodded with a high five

"Anyways, how's it going everything on your side?"

During the next two hours, both of you updated on everything in your lives while taking photos and doing tik toks, which one of them was using an audio from 'In The Heights' from the song 'No me diga', or even from the first Scream

It was after the entry of the night and while both of you watched the resume of the qualifying for the Bahrein Grand Prix, the girls time was interrupted

"Tornado, a package arrived for you", Skeet exclaimed

Leaving what you were doing, both of you got out of your room to walk to the living room to see Jack standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and with comfortable clothes instead of his press outfit

"Babe", you squealed running to him

"Gorgeous", Jack smiled opening his arms for both of you to merge into a hug, "I'm glad you arrived well"

"I'm so glad to be here on time", you said without breaking the hug

The hug lasted a few minutes during which none of you noticed how Coco left the suite to go to her own not without taking a buch of photos of both of you, and Skeet went to his room

"These are for you", Jack said handing you the bouquet

"They are beautiful, thank you so much", you gasped apreciating them, "I'm going to put them in water"

Going into the small kitchen, with the help of Jack, both of you put the flowers in a vase with water and colocate them in your room

"Is the qualifying from today?", Jack asked seeing the screen

"Yes, ", you nodded sitting at the bed at what he did the same, "Max, Checo and Charles are the top three"

"And the guy that sent you that messages last year?"

"Eleven, and his new teammate, eighteen"

"Last year they got a good result, what happened to them?"

"Their car isn't as competitive as last year, the Red Bull on the other hand, is like a rocket ship"

"Basically a season of hearing the dutch or mexican anthems"

"Absolutely, maybe other anthems with luck, but I still want to see Lewis winning again and his eight championship"

"Abu Dhabi was traumatic"

"The FIA did a mess in the last laps, Mercedes owns him the championship"

"Do you think Lewis could swap teams in a future?"

"I honestly don't think so", you sighed, "Toto and him are close, it's like a father-son relationship at this point"

"Just like Charles and Ferrari, Max with Red Bull, Kevin with Haas, Lando with McLaren, Lance with Aston Martin, Esteban with Alpine, Yuki and Alpha Tauri, and etc"

"Exactly, they all have their favorites"

Still hearing the repeat of the qualifying, both of you organized your things in the bathroom and in the small closet, and after you changed in your pajamas, which were one of Jack's long sleeved shirts which was a bit big on you and comfy shorts, both of you lay in your bed to continue watching the highlights of the qualifying until eventually both of you fell asleep

The sunday, it was a lazy day for everyone, during the morning you and Jack woke up a bit early to watch the race, which started good for Red Bull with a 1-2, and then all the cast from the preview movie and the recent one hang out in the terrace of the hotel, slightly remembering the mini reunions during filming

When the monday arrived, which was the day of the premiere, the preparations started since early in the morning

"Everytime there's a premiere I feel like going to the MET Gala", you joked while the glam team did your hair and make up, "Especially being in this hotel"

"One day you will be there", Nora said while prepearing the dress, shoes and accesories, "Don't worry"

"Manifesting"

"What's the theme this year?", Skeet asked

"Karl Lagerfeld:A Line of Beauty", you responded, "He created iconic moments and looks in fashion, but doesn't excludes that he was a shitty and horrible person"

"What would you wear if you were going this year?", Tessa asked straightening your hair

"Chanel, and tweed", you quickly answered, "With pearls, you can't fail with that, and let's pray that men don't appear in black boring suits"

"Amen", everyone in the room exclaimed

The rest of the glam session continued with small talking and comments about the process of the looks, and scrolling through Twitter

"Guys, we created a masterpiece, again", you concluded seeing the entire look in front of the mirror, "This is not regular ghostface, this is cunty ghostface"

"What the fuck did you just said?", Skeet laughed while getting ready

"I mean, ghostface slays all the time, but this is fashionable ghostface", you explained also laughing, "Can you imagine a MET Gala horror themed? It would be awesome"

When both of you were ready, they took a few photos for social media and you did a few Tik Toks with audios from the movies, including the iconic "please don't kill me Mr. Ghostface, I want to be in the sequel", before going to the lobby and walk in the middle of the fans and paparazzi to the van

"Y/N, you look beautiful", one person exclaimed

"Thank you", you exclaimed in response before getting on the van

Fortunately, the ride wasn't long, so you arrived at the place of the premiere quite early, seeing more fans and paparazzi on the entrance

"Demi Lovato is already here", Rachel informed seeing her phone

"Really?", you asked with excitement

"She was one of the first to arrive", Rachel nodded

"I can't wait to met her", you squealed

Finally getting out of the car, you were welcomed by screams of fans and flashes from the paparazzis, stoping to take photos with them and giving autographs before entering

"How are you feeling the shoes?", Skeet asked while waiting to step into the red carpet

"Surprisingly, they are comfortable", you responded, "Besides, I used higher and pointy heels for the canadian premiere of Avatar, so I'll be good"

When they let you step into the carpet, you and your dad posed together for a few photos until you jokingly pushed him aside to take individual photos, then taking some with Melissa and then going back to take individual photos, until you felt a pair of arms you knew very well circling your waist

"Hi", you smiled turning your head to look at him, "You look more handsome"

"You look more gorgeous", Jack said kissing your cheek being careful of your make up and hair

Taking advantage of the moment, the press took photos and videos, some while you weren't paying attention to them, and then looking at the cameras and doing different poses

While Jack took some individual photos, you went and took some with the girls and also with Coco, before stepping aside so the cast and crew can take the group photo, until you heard your name being called by the cast to join the group photo, at what you trotted to stand between Jack and your dad

"How did you run with platform heels?", Jamine asked

"Dude, I don't know", you laughed

After the photos were taken, it was time for the interviews, the first one with Seventeen and then Vogue, when they gave you the instructions of what to say

"Hi Vogue, I'm Y/N Ulrich, I'm so happy to be here at the Scream 6 premiere, my dress is a Balmain, and I chose it because reminded me of the Ghostface costume, and this franchise has being part of my life since I was a little girl, so being here is so special, and tonight is the first time I'll be seeing the movie, and I hope everyone enjoys it, have a great night"

Fiishing that small segment, you went with MTV, where they gave you a mini mic

"It's a baby tiny mic", you exclaimed watching the mic, "I love it"

"Fisrt of all, it's an honor to be in front of horror royalty, the Ghostface Princess", the girl interviewing you said, "I feel like there's a lot to unravel of your outfit, which is amazing, so can you please give us the whole context"

"Of course", you nodded, "First of all, I have to give credits to my stylist whom I like to call my fairy godmothers because they make this possible, um, the dress is a Balmain which we chose beacuse the sleeves are like the Ghostface robe, and then we wanted to add pops of color red, which ended in the red platforms and my clutch, my earrings are mini bowie knives, the iconic Ghostface weapon, the rings which are from a local bussiness from LA are like the blood spilling and the iconic ghostface mask"

"And your make up is spectacular, I love the eyeliner and the red lips"

"Thank you so much, it's like what Taylor Swift said: 'draw the eyecat sharp enough to kill a man'"

"That's so genius, I love it, and please can we get a closer look at the nails because they are a piece of art", laughing you raised your hands so the camera could focus your nails, "Now that we did the outfit appreciation, we can talk about the reason why were here, the movie, you have a cameo, you met your boyfriend Jack in here, how does it feel to be part of this iconic franchise?"

"It feels like a full circle moment, you know, having seen the four first movies at eight years old, I watched them with dad and he told me behind the scenes, Neve, Courtney, Matthew, Rose, Jamie, Drew are like uncles and aunts to me, having a cameo and meeting Jack was so incredible, so yeah, it's amazing being oficially part of this legacy", you responded, "And also with this cast we are a big happy family, I love everyone"

"What can you say about the movie were about to see?"

"Well, I only was there one day to film my part and never returned to the set, because I hate spoilers", you laughed, "I only known the basic of the movie, and the change of scenary to this big city I think is an amazing concept, and what Radio Silence has done since they took charge of the story is incredible, they are continuing the legacy of Wes and honoring him, which I think is the most important, so yeah the way they create and develope storylines is one of the best thing I've seen, and happy to be part of it"

"Well, thank you so much for talking with us, it's always a pleasure"

"Thank you so much for having me, have a great night"

"You too"

Finishing the round of interviews, you went to the sidelines where you stayed with Anna to talk, and then walking to the theatre with everyone to watch the movie, and grabbing popcorn and something to drink

And after the directors and the cast, in which again insisted that you stand with them for the segment at what you accepted, said a few words about the film and thanking everyone for being present to watch it

"I'm excited", you smiled while the lights started to fade

"Any predictions on who Ghostface might be?", Jack asked

"I let you know after a few minutes of the movie", you responded

Being anxious of your reaction when the reaveal comes, Jack only smiled in a mischieview way

Certainly, you were shocked because the change of style of the openning but in a good way, and then you were mad at Sam's therapist

"There's us", you smiled seeing the small scene

"I'm so happy that I asked you on a date", Jack said in a small voice

"And I'm happy that I accepted", you responded in the same tone resting your head on his shoulder

For the rest of the movie, you resisted the urge to bite your nails, instead holding Jack's hand or arm, and also regretting not being on set for the shrine filming days because of your "no spoilers" rule, and also laughing when Ethan said the phrase 'am I going to die a virgin?'

When the third act started, you were already in tears because all the injured or dead characters that you didn't notice how Jack got his phone out to film your reactions

"Holy shit", you murmured after Wayne Bailey revealed himself as a ghostface, and then the ghostface at his left started to lift his mask leaving you more shocked, at what you turned to look at your boyfriend, "You're ghostface"

"Surprise", Jack laughed

"Oh my God", you murmured returning to watch the movie, only to see Liana's character alive being the third ghostface, "Oh my God!"

Apparently your voice resonated in the theatre because you heard some laughs

For the entire third act you were at the edge of your seat watching how everything was developing, and suffering by the way Ethan died, and then cheering when Sam and Tara's plan worked and the core four, Kirby, Gale and Danny were alright

"My honest opinion of Ethan, good boy and ghostface: it was hot", you said to Jack while the credits started, "You nailed it"

"Really?"

"Absolutely, by the way, please, if your comfortable, can you please call me 'sweet dumb thing'?"

Laughing a little, Jack got a bit closer to you until his face was next to your ear

"Sweet dumb thing", he said in a low voice that made you giggle

jackchampion, melissabarreram, skeetulrich, ddlovato, guywithamoviecamera, and 127,096 more

yn.ulrich happy Scream VI premiere day for those who celebrate!!

I just saw the movie, and I swear this is no biased, but is absolutely amazing, you are not ready for everything that is going to happen

Congratulations to the amazing cast and crew who worked really hard on this film, you did a fantastic job by assembling everything

don't forget to purchase tickets in your nearest theatre

tagged jackchampion screammovies

jackchampion I can't get over how beautiful you looked tonight

› yn.ulrich babeeeeeee, you're making me blush

user061 MOTHER, LET ME VISIT YOUR CLOSET, I NEED TO SEE IT

francisca.cgomes 😍😍

cocoarquette_ the best ulrich

› yn.ulrich the best arquette-cox

screammovies it was an honnor to have royalty watching our bloodshed

julrich21 you see her all glam in the carpets but in reallity she dresses like a homeless when she's at home

› yn.ulrich stfu and go try grow a real mustache instead of the three hairs in your face

› naiia 🍿🍿

› skeetulrich 🤦🏻‍♂️

[adrienneleclerc]

First Concert

Pairing: Keyboardist!Charles Leclerc x Reader, Singer!Lewis Hamilton x Reader, Bassist!Carlos Sainz x Reader, Drummer!Max Verstappen x Reader, Lead Guitarist!Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Y/N goes to her first “Just An Inchident” concert and surprisingly gains the attention of the band, every girl’s dream come true

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: let me know if you want Y/N to date ALL OF THEM or date one band member and be friends with the rest of the band.

Y/N was on Ticketmaster and so was her friend, Penelope, on her computer.

“Any luck?” Y/N asked.

“Nada.” Penelope replied.

“Come on, we’re literally number 741 on the queue, they’re going to be sold out by the time we get through.” Y/N said.

“Okay, I’m 384.” Penelope said and Y/N shuts her laptop, moving closer to Penelope. “Get me my credit card.”

“On it.” Y/N goes to look in her purse. “What number are we now?”

“193.” Penelope said.

“We are so close.” Y/N said, bringing Penelope the card she wanted.

“I’m in!!! What seat do you want?” Penelope asked.

“Whats the closest and most affordable?” Y/N asked.

“You think we can afford floor seats?” Penelope asked. “There’s a few available.”

“Yes! Get it, get it, get it! I’ll pay you back, work extra shifts!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Alright, chill, I put them in my cart. Ticket insurance?” Penelope asked and Y/N nodded. “I got it! It’s done! We are going to see Just An Inchident this October!”

“Ah, Im so excited!!” Y/N said. “You are the best bestie ever.” She hugs Penelope

“I know. Should we recreate an outfit from their music videos?” Penelope asked.

“Which music video? It could be from ‘daydream’, that’s a great song.”

“You just like it because Charles sings it.”

“I mean yes but it’s a really good song, you had it on repeat when it first came out.” Y/N said.

“I know, I know. But I wonder what made them decide to finally do a North American tour.” Penelope said.

“Well they’ve been together for 5 years, they’ve been doing European tours all the time, maybe they finally realized they had American fans.” Y/N suggested.

It is October, the band is doing a sound check

“You think we’ll be playing more American venues?” Lando asked.

“If this tour goes well, I freaking hope so.” Max said.

“We’re playing Madison Square Garden, I still can’t believe it.” Lewis said.

“Actually we sold out Madison Square Garden if you wanted to get technical.” Max explained.

“Mate, you really need to stop maxplaining.” Carlos said.

“When do the doors open again?” Charles asked.

“At 7, we still have time for everything. With what song do you want to open with?” Lewis asked.

“I think a good opener needs to be a crowd favorite but a little nostalgic, you know?” Lando said.

“How about ‘Preacher Man’ (the driver era), it is one of our songs that was number one of the billboard 100 for a few weeks, that’s a definite American crowd favorite.” Charles commented,

“Lando sings that song though.” Lewis said.

“Well we can’t open up with ‘Meddle About’ (Chase Atlantic) now Can we?” Charles asked.

“You’re right.” Lewis said.

“Great, now that that’s settled, let’s go over the rest of the setlist.” Max says.

Y/N and Penelope are waiting outside of Madison Square Garden with outfits inspired by their favorite’s red carpet look

“Ah, It’s almost time!” Penelope said excitedly

“I know!! I wonder what they’ll sing first.” Y/N said. “Do we have enough money to buy merch when we get in?”

“Yeah of course.” Penelope responded. The security guard opened the door to Madison square garden and everyone started walking in, opening their bags for security, they went to the merch table to see what’s available and bought matching t-shirts. They went to their seats.

“Oh my gosh, we are so close to the stage.” Y/N said.

“Ugh, I know, it’s insane.” Penelope said. Half an hour later, the lights went out and everyone started screaming once they heard Max on the drums.

“It’s happening!” Y/N screamed.

Spotlight hit Max who was on the drums, hen another spotlight landed on Lando as he plays guitar, another on Carlos as he plays bass, then Charles on his keyboard, altogether playing the music of ‘Preacher Man’, lastly Lewis is lifted on a platform (think of the Hannah Montana movie), the music stops.

“Whats up, New York City!” Lewis said and the crowd goes wild. “We are ‘Just an Inchident’, thank you for coming! It’s always been my dream to perform in Madison Square Garden and now I’m living it.”

“We are very grateful for our American fans, it means so much to us that you like our music.” Lando said.

“We hope we’ll keep coming back here and performing for you guys.” Charles said.

“We hope you enjoy the show!” Max says.

“I guarantee you it’s worth the money.” Carlos said, Lewis picked up another rhythmic guitar while Lando stepped closer to the mic stand so he could sing.

“Hey, Mr. Preacher Man, I've been playing with a heart like a violin, I've been stumbling through the door after 6:00 a.m., fix my soul so I don't lose a love again” Lando sang into the mic. The crowd was loving it, 45 minutes in, there’s a little intermission where the band talks to the crowd

“You guys enjoying yourselves?” Lewis asked, the crowd cheered. “Okay, where them girls at?” The women cheered loudly. “Alright, who came here with their boyfriend?” Women cheered less. “Who’s single?” Women cheered loudly again. “Now one of you lucky single ladies, if you came with your boyfriend, I am so sorry, are going to be selected to pick our next song.” The camera connected to the screens chose Y/N. The boys looked at the screen behind them, she was beautiful. “Alright darling, come closer to the stage.

“Oh my god, go.” Penelope pushed Y/N lightly because she stood frozen. Y/N walked slowly to the stage, Lewis kneeled down so he could get closer to Y/N, he admired her beauty up close.

“Whats your name, sweetheart?” Lewis asked, handing her the microphone.

“Y/N.” She replied

“That’s a beautiful name, what song would you like us to perform?” Lewis asked.

“Well my favorite song is Daydream but Friends would be great.” Y/N replied.

“Well I’ll tell you what, Y/N, we’ll perform both.” Lewis winked at her before getting back up. “How does that sound?” The crowd cheered, Y/N walked back to her seat. “Thanks for participating darling.” The concert continued, as promised, Charles sung Daydreams, Lewis sung Friends, an hour and a half later, the concert finished, Penelope and Y/N were going to leave but they were stopped by security.

“Ladies, you need to come with me.” The guard said and Penelope immediately put her hands up

“I swear I did not do anything.” Penelope said and Y/N elbowed her.

“We’re not getting arrested, right?” Y/N asked, looking at the guard.

“Of course you’re not, just follow me.” The guard said and the girls were escorted backstage and met the band, a fan’s dream come true.

"Oh my gosh, this is insane." Penelope said.

"Hey girls, what did you think of the concert?" Charles asked.

"It was absolutely amazing, the light changes to macth the aesthetic of the song, the way you sung Daydreams is also amazing, i never knew how great that song sounds live." Y/N said and Charles smiled at her.

"How about you, darling? What was your favorite part of the concert?" Lando asked Penelope.

"You singing When You Need A Man, my all time favorite song." Penelope answered.

"Before you girls leave, we should take photos." Carlos spoke up.

"Great! Heres my phone." Y/N unlocked her phone and went to the camera, asking the secuirty guard if he could take the photo, which he did, then they took individual selfies, and the girls left, saying goodbye.

"She seems nice." Max said.

"Yeah, she's beautiful too, my favorite venue we played by far." Lewis said.

"When do we leave New York?" Carlos asked.

"We're staying a few days to go on 'Good Morning America', but i am beat, I just want a pizza." Lando said.

"Yeah, we'll get a pizza and head over to my apartment." Lewis said.

"Great, lets go." Charles said.

Y/N and Penelope got to their apartment and both girls posted their concert photos, the meet and greet, and clips of them performing their favorite songs, tagging the band and the individual members on Instagram. The next day, Y/N woke up with notifications that Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen have followed her on Instagram. Y/N was smiling and Penelope was making breakfast for them.

"What's got you all smiley?" Penelope asked.

"No, nothing, what are we having?" Y/N asked

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I am so very sorry if the buildup was better than the actual fic, tell me if you want Y/N to date all of the band members or just one member

Taglist: @the-holy-trinity-l @ourlifeforchaos @weekendlusting @marekmybeloved @always-spaced-out @dark-night-sky-99 @tribbisweetdear @iangelofmusic @mrsmelinda @shadowyinfluencercloud @bountychanti @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @jazzyanneblogzzz @anotheranotherblogwoah

Setlist: the bands are chosen for each person based on vibe

Preacher Era -The Driver Era (Lando) Wires - The Neighborhood (Max) Valentine - Maneskin (Charles) Meddle About - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Arabella - The Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Swim - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Did You Have Your Fun - R5 (Lando) Sweater Weather - The Neighborhood (Max) Smooth Operator - Sade (Carlos) Supermodel - Maneskin (Charles) Okay - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Perfect Sense - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Daydreams - We Three (Charles) Prey - The Neighborhood (Max) Friends - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Snap Out Of It - The Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Heaven Angel - The Driver Era (Lando) Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood (Max) Fear of Nobody - Maneskin (Charles) i Wanna Be Yours - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) HER - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Subeme La Radio - Enrique Iglesias (Carlos) {PARA MI GENTE LATINA} When You Need a Man - The Driver Era (Lando) Right Here - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) One for the Road - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Feel You Now - The Driver Era (Lando) Baby Said - Maneskin (Charles) Void - The Neighborhood (Max) Knee Socks - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) OHMAMI - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Timezone - Maneskin (Charles) Compass - The Neighbourhood (Max) Welcome to the End of Your Life - The Driver Era (Lando) R U Mine? - Artic Monkeys (Leiws) The Walls - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Own My Mind - Maneskin (Charles) Reflections - The Neighborhood (Max) A Kiss - The Driver Era (Lando)

[bitter-panacea]

Goultard's backstory, comparing the Dofus manga and the special episode Part 3 - The Horrors part 1

Part 1 Part 2

Aka the Katar incident aka everything's just gone to shit

One day, Goultard comes home to an empty house and finds a letter, with a plan, signed by Katar.

Goultard : Oh, dinner's not served... That's not normal.... / Dear Goultard, I've invited your family to a little shindig at my place... You're cordially invited to join us. Katar. P.S. : I've drawn a little map on the back of this letter.

(Look at him... so angry... fangs... so cute)

Here's the letter in the special episode :

Surprise! Tu ne me connais pas mais j'organise une petite sauterie en ta faveur. Comme tu n'étais pas là, nous nous sommes permis d'inviter ta famille. Suis la carte au dos et rejoins nous vite. P.S : N'oublie pas d'affuter ta lame. Katar.

Surprise! You do not know me but I'm hosting a little shindig in your favor. Since you weren't home, we took the liberty of inviting your family. Follow the map on the back and join us soon. P.S : don't forget to sharpen your blade. Katar

First off, this letter (the voice actor's performance of it) alone has more personality in 15 seconds than Katar does in the entirety of the dofus manga. Katar looks and acts very differently in the special episode and in the manga. And I won't lie, the latter is pretty boring, especially in this volume. In general, I don't particularly care about Katar and think very little about him. But I really like what they did with him in the special ep. And of course, how can I not mention Mathias Kozlowski? Who does such an AMAZING job as Katar... He's soooo good. He does many voices in this universe, he's also Kriss La Krass, Guy (in the Dofus movie), Grany Smisse, Ogrest (Giant) and additional voices. (Bruno Choël is also FANTASTIC as Goultard btw... The entire cast is gold actually but I'm not here to talk about french voice acting)

Both letters have Katar use "une petite sauterie". "Shindig" is the closest thing I could find but it's not exactly right. Une sauterie is a small intimate and informal gathering. It's a very old fashioned word and is now only used jokingly. It's a cute and silly word and adding the "petite" in front of it makes it sound even cuter and sillier.

"Surprise!" No comment, perfect. I love characters who act silly but in a very unnerving way....

"We took the liberty of inviting your family" already hinting that Katar isn't alone!! I love that.

And Goultard runs all the way to where Katar is keeping his family hostage.

Goultard : If anything happened to them, I would never forgive myself! (And it's true, he never does)

Goultard : Good grief! I'm finally here! The moutain of a thousand screams.... aka boob mountain... (fucking boob moutain man i dont know)

The dialogue between Katar and Goultard right before they start to fight is a little different too.

Goultard : What... What is this sensation? Every muscle in my body is tensing up and... I'm shaking...

Katar : Impressive! Your body reacts instinctively to my presence! A bit like a sixth sense... I was not wrong about you! / Goultard : Who are you and what have you done to my family?

Katar : My name is Katar and your family is fine for now! They're in the cave behind me! You only have to do one thing to see them again.. Beating me!

Goultard : Very well! Now, let me tell you one thing, Katar! I meet lunatics like you every day. It's my job. But you, You're gonna suffer! I'll be merciless... Because you see... No one messes with my family.

Goultard : Ready? / Katar : I was not asking for that much... A violent fight... Gratuitous, with no justification! Now that suits me wonderfully!

(Can they both just shut up??? Oh my god!!!)

In the episode it goes like this :

Katar : Welcome Goultard. I'm Katar. We were impatiently waiting for you. We've wanted to meet a hero of your caliber for so long.

Goultard : Where are they? I swear, If you did them even the slightest harm..

Katar : Settle down. Let's not get worked up. I assure you they want for nothing. If you wish to see them, grant me a dance.

(WHY IS HE SO PRETTY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH)

It's shorter, straight to the point. Goultard doesn't give a shit who this guy is or what's his problem. He wastes no time, refuses to indulge Katar's sick sense of humor and immediately asks about the only one thing that truly matters to him. You can clearly tell he's furious AND panicked. Terrified of what might have happened to his loved ones.

They have a very interesting dynamic... I think what works so well here is that, Katar dismisses and minimizes the brutality of the situation, not taking it seriously, like it's a joke or a game. Which is exactly the way Goultard behaves most of the time. But in this specific situation and with what's at stake, he can't not take it seriously. Very destabilizing for Goultard.

In the manga, Katar initiates. Goultard is taken aback. At first it looks like he doesn't stand a chance against Katar.

Goultard : Where is he? / Katar : Tired already? Impossible, I can't have been this wrong about you... Move... You can do better... Come on hero, fight! Or i'll kill you, your shitlings and your bitches...

But he manages to turn the tables.

Katar : Seems like you're getting caught up in the game! / Goultard : Believe me... This is everything but a game.

In the special episode, Goultard attacks first and immediately has the upper hand on Katar.

Katar is a sacrier, it makes sense for him to wait until he's injured before fighting back and taking control of the situation.

Get wrecked <3

There's a little moment i like in the manga that's not in the special ep, right before the reveal that Goultard's family is already dead. Interesting to know that at this point Gou holds the belief that hunting monsters is fine but killing humans isn't.

Goultard : I know terminating a human being is wrong.. But I sense an evil too great inside you! You have to disappear! / Katar : Tell me, Goultard... What makes you think I'm human? And above all, what makes you believe you can defeat me? You hit like an old lady, Goultard! It looks like you're holding back, like you're scared to let loose... I think I have the solution! Come over here... Go say hello to your dear family!

Kicking him in the balls, grabbing his hair and dragging him through the dirt. I like that. I really like that.

(baby baybay bayayy bayby baby byabbaby baabyy)

This is horrible.... AND BRUNO CHOEL MY GOD!!! I'm begging them to make Goultard go through the horrors in the next season because I need more of that. He's just so good at crying and begging and whimpering and and and. He did say in an interview that he's very passionate and usually cries for real when playing these kind of scenes so the emotions in his voice feel as honest as possible. Simply amazing.

Part 4

[florallylly]

at the request of absolutely nobody, i present my vaguely fleshed out steddie mummy au 

sources: i still own the mummy on vhs 

there’s a possibility that the whole story of hamunaptra could be tweaked a bit to fit the story of henry creel/vecna/one into imhotep’s story, but the actual nitty gritty doesn’t matter as much as the actual dynamics and relationships between stobin and eddie. the important part is that a man is cursed to be buried alive, immortal but destined to awaken only to take vengeance. 

fast forward and eddie munson ends up drafted into the military. (rick is apart of the french foreign legion stationed in egypt, and i’m not entirely sure how he manages it but eddie munson is apparently a colonel). things happen and eddie finds himself running away from the battlefield, only to stumble upon the ruins of hamunaptra. except they aren’t really ruins and hamunaptra is a myth. so he runs, but when he gets back to the city, alone and half dead, eddie finds that in his rush to leave, he’s grabbed some sort of puzzle box. 

at the same time, one robin buckley has dedicated her life to learning more about ancient egypt. her passion for languages led her down a rabbit hole, and she drags her brother steve to egypt with her for further study. 

robin is set up with a job at a small museum, working as an archivist. unfortunately, it’s a lot more tedious than she anticipated. it would be a lot better if she could work with steve, but forgetting his glasses at home nearly everyday isn’t super helpful when it comes to trying to sort books. 

so what is steve doing in egypt, you may ask? evie’s brother jonathan in the movie literally schlepped around egypt fucking around with his sister and figuring out his next get rich scheme. steve isn’t really the type to open up his own nightclub in shanghai (a la the mummy: tomb of the dragon emperor), but just like jonathan, steve happens to stumble across a cryptex containing a map of the lost city of hamunaptra. 

as an aside: i see steve doing the same minimum wage jobs he did in hawkins, just in egypt. i think it would be funny and makes so much more sense to me than him kind of skulking around for news of possible treasure. (bonus: the party in egypt, and dustin coming up to steve with a “brand new discovery” and it’s eddie’s puzzle box that he’s swiped. (THOUGH NOTE: evie and jonathan’s family is Rich. Rich Loaded. Rich Loaded British. So honestly, he doesn’t even have to work)

either way, when robin opens the cryptex and finds the map, she’s astonished. this is what she’s dreamed of her whole life—being an explorer and discovering lost civilizations. so she gets steve to find out where the puzzle box came from. his search leads them to the prison, where eddie munson is destined for execution. 

the two of them talk to eddie, and eddie tells robin he’s seen hamunaptra in person. he’s been there. he’s walked the same sand that pharaohs had and seen the ruins that no other have laid their hands on. but eddie refuses to tell them the location, but steve convinces (bribes) the warden to let him go. 

so the three of them set off to the city of the dead. 

the details of the trip would make this post way too long, but i’m thinking about dynamics rn… 

eddie is a little standoffish at first, sure that these rich kids won’t be able to handle themselves, and he’ll be stuck carting around two spoiled brats. and robin and steve don’t necessarily trust him. robin is wide eyed and blinded by eddie’s knowledge of hamunaptra, but steve keeps trying to keep her in check. 

at first, eddie thinks steve is cold to him because of some upstairs/downstairs prejudice or big brother protectiveness. and eddie flirts even harder with robin, delighted every time he sees a scowl on steve’s face. even if robin keeps rolling her eyes and ignoring him, he isn’t looking at her anyways. he’s too busy searching steve’s eyes for some spark of disapproval. he doesn’t see that though. he sees worry and concern and fear. and that’s when eddie starts warming up to them. 

[ymdslf]

this picture of julien looking at la gare de perpignan by salvador dalí

right, this one?

i don’t mean to flex but i sat in that exact same spot

here’s a picture i took.

but circling back to that painting: the lady from the museum told us (i went with my art class) that dalí painted this about his own relationship to god and religion. she asked us to describe what this painting made us feel, and i couldn’t put it into words then and i still don’t know how to, because it took my breath away and left me speechless. the light bursting out in the center, dalí himself floating there, and jesus hanging on the cross right behind him, almost invisible.

it also features people in prayer, pausing their work to take a moment and speak to their god. dalís wife stands behind the cart in the center bottom. a train cart is floating above dalí, above jesus’ head. at the center top, another version of the falling, or floating, dalí can be seen. beneath that version, the clouds are parting and letting the light shine through. the bottom of the painting is the ocean, with a singular boat floating along.

the first thing i noticed, when i looked at this painting, was the light. and when i looked closer, what stood out to me was the crown of thorns. what i noticed next was the bleeding wound.

this was on november 25th, less than a month after the halloween show, and i still had this vivid picture of julien dressed as jesus burned into my eyes. and so when i saw this picture, all i could think about was her. the first thought that popped into my head when i realized the religious context of this painting was julien-the jesus parallel of course, but also because i had listened to sprained ankle on the way there. i can’t pretend to know her, but that album has a lot of religious imagery, and i couldn’t stop thinking about it. i didn’t remember that first picture, it didn’t stand out to me when i first saw it, because i didn’t know what was happening. i just thought ‘oh another museum photo how cute’ and that was that. now i can’t help but wonder how julien felt when she saw that painting.

i didn’t know what to feel- i felt calm, at peace, and yet this churning feeling of everything clawing at me. i’ve struggled with my faith and my religion for as long as i’ve had critical thinking skills. this painting perfectly encapsulates whatever it is that i try to say but can’t. i don’t know exactly what dalí wanted to express with this painting, but to me it feels that way. it makes me feel so many things.

i kept circling back to that room. it was almost like the painting was magnetic and pulling me toward itself. i still think about it.

all this to say: sometimes i forget that people i only ever see inside my little phone screen actually exist, and this just reminded me that, yes they do, and sometimes everything and everyone is connected by tiny little strings.

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

Ableism in the Pricing of Higher Education

I have one more semester of college left, god permitting. Because of the ways my disabilities (ADHD, Autism, and Bipolar Disorder) impede my learning and my productivity, I have had to work so hard to get even mediocre results in college. And I've had to take on so much more debt. Despite it all, I'm going to make it through, and I'm damn PROUD of it. But let's talk about it, because this system is fucking broken and I'm fucking angry about it.

This gets pretty long after the cut, so TL;DR:

Universal public college tuition and student loan debt forgiveness are not just economic issues. They are disability issues, and we need to fight for them like it.

The pricing scheme at my university functions probably not unlike most higher education institutions. Any student who takes three or fewer courses a semester pays à la carte. A set amount for each class. Any student who takes four or more courses a semester pays the same flat rate. The more courses you take, the farther your money goes.

This is broken and it's insane that this is the standard. Of the eight semesters I've completed, I only tried taking the "standard" five courses twice. Both times, I had to withdraw from at least one of them because the workload was too heavy. My brain just isn't wired in a way that can handle that much work and mental bandwidth. My attention span only goes so far, and it gets even worse if my meds aren't just right.

So every other semester, I've taken four courses. The minimum to be considered a full-time student and to pay the flat rate. Each semester, I've raked in a maximum of 12 credits. I say maximum because there have even been four-course semesters that I've had to withdraw from one just to pass the other three. Meanwhile, the assumption is that neurotypical people take five courses a semester.

My university, like pretty much every one in the US, requires 120 credits to graduate with a Bachelor's degree. At 3 credits per course (generally), that's 40 courses. A neurotypical person taking 5 each semester can graduate in 8 semesters, or 4 years. At that same pace, that sets someone like me at graduating in 5 years. Now I'm an laden with an extra year's worth of debt compared to them.

That all assumes I pass all my classes every time, which sometimes, I just fucking can't because my brain is crosswired for what they want it to do. I'm hopefully going to manage to graduate in 9 semesters. How? Well I went into college with 15 credits from dual enrollment in high school (that we paid for out of pocket). That gave me the wiggle room to only take 4 courses each semester. But with my performance, there are still gaps.

I've needed to take two summer courses, which each cost me about $1,300. I'm currently earning 3 credits doing study abroad, which I do admit is an expensive way of going about getting credits, but the program alone (without airfare and living expenses) was about $5,000. Without these "extra" credits, I wouldn't nearly be able to graduate when I will be.

All the while, some neurotypical people are out here taking five or even six classes and paying the exact same rate that I am. They're graduating earlier and not going into as much debt, what, because they happen to have the brains that this pricing scheme favors?

This isn't even considering jobs. Other students are able to balance having a job and taking a full course load. Graduating faster, paying less, and actively earning money to offset the cost more. I'm not going to pretend it's easy for all of them. No way. That's a stressful way to live, but the point is that they can live that way. I can't. I just can't.

I'm going to name my privilege because it's a big one here. My family is decently wealthy. As long as I can remember, we've been able to live comfortably. Financial aid agreed, apparently, because even after the loans I'm allowed, we still pay about $9,000 out of pocket every semester. Put that up against someone in my same financial situation but with a brain that works the way the college thinks it should. That's another $18,000 my family is on the hook for compared to them, all for the same degree. It's bullshit.

But if someone with a brain like mine isn't as fortunate financially as I am, where the fuck are they gonna get that extra money? My family paid for my summer courses and study abroad out of pocket. Where is that less privileged student getting that fucking money? A job? Yeah right, they can barely stay off academic probation from poor grades, like me. What part of this is fair? It's not fair to me, and it's certainly not fair to anyone less wealthy than me.

The short term solution is so obvious it hurts. Create a separate pricing plan that costs the same, but just takes longer. Have me pay less per semester than someone taking 5 courses, and in exchange, prohibit me from taking more than 4. They are using more resources than me, so in the capitalist mindset, they ought to pay more than me.

Fuck the capitalist mindset, though. Fuck everything about college costing money. What the hell? I go to a public, state-funded university and I'm still tens of thousands of dollars in debt? And my parents have just that much less money in their retirement accounts? Financially at least, I have it fucking easy. My family can tank the costs. We can take out a home equity loan because we can afford our own house in this economy. Not everyone can.

Fuck it. This is inhumane. Education is a society's greatest asset. When people are allowed to achieve their ambitions and succeed in life, the economy performs better. Standards of living go up. Democracies become healthier. Most importantly, the people are happier. Because what's more important than being happy and healthy?

So when education is locked behind a fucking paywall, who wins? Not the students, and not society. Taking financial privilege out of it, the worst losers are people like me. People whose minds just can't work in a way that lets us take 5 courses and a part time job at the same time. We are fucking losing. We are losing money and we are losing time in our lives. All this debt sets back our savings, our investments, our stability to start our own families.

Universal public college tuition and student loan debt forgiveness are not just economic issues. They are disability issues. People like me are paying a price that neurotypical people don't have to, and it doesn't have to be that way. There are ways that we can make it better for us, and there are ways that we can make it better for everyone. So let's fucking do them, alright?

That means voting for the people that will put those policies in place. That means protesting when they don't. That means walking out of class and protesting ableist school administrations. That means being an active citizen in our democracy. If we need to fight to get the things that we need to thrive, then we are gonna have to give one hell of a fight.

[smolsleepyfox]

I found this in my drafts so enjoy my bitching about the absolute shitshow my first intercontinental flight turned into.

Travelers: smolsleepyfox + mother who doesn't speak a lot of English

The inbound journey: train to Frankfurt > flight to LA (Condor) > ~two hours transit time > flight to Honolulu (Hawaiian)

Estimated travel time: 24 hours

What actually happened: The ICE was late, of course, but we had more than enough buffer regardless. The plane was announced as 45 minutes delayed due to a delayed arrival. Okay, not fun, but doable.

We eventually started with a delay of 1h 40. Refer to the transit time stated above.

The flight itself was cool, I really liked the 3D earth model with our route showing all sorts of background info on sights we were passing. I saw Iceland and the Faroe islands for the first time, and some of Greenland, the Great Salt Lake and Nevada. (Why is the US so big and empty in the middle, it was kind of freaky??)

Anyway. We arrived with a delay of 1h 20 and hastened to get to the connection. As travellers entering the country we had to get our bags and then check them in again when we were connecting, so we did just that.

Mistake.

Because when we made it to the check-in counter of Hawaiian Airlines they told us we'd been rebooked to a different flight with an entirely different airline. At 7am the next day.

Apparently Condor thought we wouldn't make the connection and changed our booking. The very sweet lady at the counter wrote down the flight number for the new booking, and recommended we go ask our original airline to get us a hotel because by that time it was 7pm and we'd been up for about 24 hours.

Guess who does not work anymore at 7pm?

If you guessed Condor's customer service desk, you get a point. What followed should be familiar to people who watched Asterix conquers Rome. I probably spoke to everyone wearing some sort of uniform in the entire building. Turns out social anxiety is only a problem until your stress level hits the roof. And after all of that didn't even work, we got a SMS with a hotel booking and food vouchers.

Note that by that point, we'd been running around for nearly three hours and there's still no information the new flight booking even exists. We have no boarding passes, not even an email saying we got rebooked in the first place, just a hand-written flight number.

To be fair the hotel was extremely nice. There even was a pool in the courtyard - which we couldn't use because as I mentioned we'd checked in our luggage. We didn't even have a toothbrush. Regardless, half of the vouchers were spent on dinner that I thought was stupid expensive (but hey not my money!).

Next morning while waiting in line to get our boarding passes I talked to a dude from Cincinnati checking in a very friendly black Labrador Retriever. I told him I'd love to see the Great Lakes sometime and he said he has a friend who went to Germany with his athletics team and it sounded very fun. I told him we have a lot of big funky churches and he seemed to appreciate it. We also spent the other half of the vouchers on Starbucks.

We did make it to Honolulu airport. Our bags did not. The day before, they'd told us that they'd either transfer our luggage to the new airline, or they'd just put it on their flight to Honolulu that leaves the same time. We waited at the baggage claim for our flight. The conveyor belt was blocked by a large box for like ten minutes. No luggage. We have no flight number for the other Hawaiian flight and none of the screens even show that that plane exists, let alone is supposed to arrive in the span of the next two hours.

After asking five different people and my mom running off on her own, we manage to get to Hawaiian's baggage service desk and one of the crew wanders off with our receipts to take a look. He returns after 30 minutes with a cart. I didn't ask where the hell he found our stuff. He was probably a wizard.

We still don't have a confirmation we ever got rebooked.

---

This is where I left off, thinking we'd finished the Odyssey. Guess the fuck what! We had not!

We spent a lovely two weeks on O'ahu of which I was sick for most of the first (I blame the AC). Our flight back was at 7.25am.

The plan was for us to go to LA together, where I'd put my mom on a flight back (Condor again) and for me to spend two more weeks in LA. We arrived around 5am because we're German and that's the bare minimum of buffer. Online check-in somehow didn't work for the Honolulu-LA leg but did work for the LA-Frankfurt leg. So we get to the airport, try the kiosks. No luck there either. Go to the customer service counter.

The poor man took about five minutes looking between his PC and our passports before telling us he had to check something and wandering off for a solid twenty minutes. That can't be a good sign.

He returns. My mom's ticket doesn't exist.

What do you mean her ticket doesn't exist, I ask, wondering if I've lost the ability to speak English.

Apparently when Condor rebooked us on the inbound flight, they accidentally canceled both Hawaiian airlines reservations for my mom. So now we have an hour left and my mom doesn't have a ticket and a flight to catch.

Booking another ticket for this specific flight is 2800$ - even if we were willing to pay that (we were not) that is very much above my credit card's limit. The man, who clearly feels bad for us, advises me to call Condor directly.

I genuinely don't want to think about how much money I paid calling the hotline. The entire thing was a disaster - I have auditory processing disorder, it was loud as fuck in the airport and the man on the other end had an accent. At first I gave him the wrong booking number (mine instead of my mom's), then he misunderstood and thought our inbound flights were with Lufthansa so Not His Job. He eventually promised to reinstate the ticket so we should wait a few minutes and return to the check-in. At check-in the tickets did not show up, so I call them back and ask for the ticket numbers to double-check.

Having a pacing man at the airport yell into his phone in German probably fulfills some kind of stereotype.

We went outside so my mom could have a smoke break and I avoided having a meltdown with the help of a soggy Nutella bread, since I hadn't even had breakfast at that point.

At this point, we've missed our flight, meaning my ticket has lost its validity as well. Stakes are high.

The few minutes were apparently enough for the system to catch up though, because when we got back to the check in counter, a very nice lady told us that while it wasn't Hawaiian Airlines' responsibility, they offered a complementary rebooking to a later flight. They wouldn't be able to guarantee we got on if it was full, but chances were good. Very stressful 40 minutes until we were called up by a guy my age who apologized for not knowing how to pronounce our last name.

But wait - my mom had a flight to catch. The stopover time by that point had shrunken to an hour... And our plane was delayed. In all fairness, the cabin crew was lovely, they offered all passengers with connecting flights to get off the plane first, just grab our stuff and run. Which is what we did, running up to the gate and asking if boarding is still ongoing like we were being chased by the mob. This flight was also delayed and I think the stewardess was concerned for us.

But hey, at least my mom made it home. Just to put the cherry on top though, my mom's luggage arrived in Germany five days later.

My own flight from LA to Frankfurt was luckily completely unremarkable. Never again.