#yeah all this one piece promotion during a strike

[0sbrain]

hello there

goodbye

[thewiz9062]

"Y- you're not supposed to be here! Please, don't tell anyone what you saw!"

Smiling Critters AU No.1: CraftyCorn

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. This means that EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. That's it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

TLDR: no freaky shit plz im begging

OK so to start

Craftycorn comes from a lineage of unicorns, a rarer species. Her father and mother are important people, her father is a lawyer and her mother is a fashion model (think like Adrien from miraculous but actually pretty)

Her mother wants her to follow in her footsteps, so when crafty showed her her first completed crayon piece when she was six, she ripped it apart and lectured her about how 'she doesn't need to indulge in trash like that' or something along those lines.

So throughout the years crafty acted a certain way around her parents, never mentioning her interests or her opinion about her future. However, she still did art in secret. Hiding stencils and sorts in her room, and even staying behind after school to draw.

Anyways Enter Dogday.

During Dogdays search for friends at school he noticed craftycorn was fairly popular. But he also noticed that there was something off. Sure, people were nice to her and no one had any malicious intent, but every interaction he overheard was basic stuff, like 'can I borrow your pencil' or 'can you help me with'. It didn't actually look like she had friends, just peers. So dogday made it his mission (well, continued his mission) to become her friend. After school he notices that she didn't leave the building, even though there were no after school activities. Due to his varying levels of knowledge in social norms, he follows her. After getting lost for a bit and looping the school around 3 times, he finds her in the art classroom, painting away. (See image ⬆️)

Dogdays' varying knowledge of social norms strikes again and makes his presence known after he gets close to her, resulting in her jumping and a stroke of red on his face. Instead of getting angry, Dogday laughs it off. But craftycorn is still panicking. She starts begging him not to tell anyone what he saw, and dogday gets confused. She gives him an oversimplified version of her situation, and dogday being dogday cheers her up. He tells her that he won't tell anyone, but whenever she comes here he wants to come along as well. She agrees, and after a few meetings they become friends.

I should probably add that small facts about the character will come out when I finish them all as to not spoil anything so yeah

Anyways I'm out of time, thanks for reading!!!

[thegreatimpersonator]

You said there are 2 parts to the lawsuit, can you explain more about that I don't have time to read the whole thing.

sure! i wanna make it abundantly clear from the start that I'm in no way defending Justin's actions or even remotely giving him the benefit of the doubt, he's a terrible, gross person who deserves to get ruined. i, along with other people, have issues with blake and her problematic past way before this movie, but that does not take away the fact that she is a victim of what occurred on that set.

this is more about blake and giving nuance to the lawsuit, which was filed in a very.... telling way to me. the meat of this suit is she's upset she got bad PR, which is arguably not the part that should be focused on, it should be the harassment but in the suit, she makes it clear she's more upset about her reputation being ruined, which again... odd.

the lawsuit has two parts. the first part was the harassment she and others faced on the completely disgusting set and i believe her 100%. the second part is what i see being largely misconstrued by the public as 'this is why you should never hate on a woman, if you ever hated on her you're stupid and just fell for a smear campaign'. this lawsuit is mainly focused on blake being upset she got bad PR, which is upsetting that thats what she's focusing on, that she's putting the way more important stuff (the harassment) as a side note...

while they were filming the movie, the writing strike happened so it split filming into two parts, before the strike and after. before the strike, all of the horrible behavior from justin and his friend happened to blake and others on set. she filed multiple complaints and there's ample evidence. then the strike happened and during the strike, she sent the whole team messages that the behavior will not continue and sent rules over for them to follow, like a contract they had to follow. one of those rules was that they could not retaliate against her over these rules being in place during the production or promotional work of the film. it's very broad, it's basically saying 'you cannot say anything bad about me'. filming resumed and there were seemingly no more issues. but justins behavior during the press tour was viewed by blake as retaliation against her and personally the things she lists as examples i think are wild stretches.

again i want to clarify im not defending justin, he's awful and deserves to be sued, but for the harassment bc this PR stuff is so not the issue lol.

there was a press briefing given out about how to handle talking about the movie, the cast were given talking points and the agreed-upon strategy was to not talk about the DV, but talk about the positives of strength and keep it light. we as the audience organically did not take that well, we found issues with the way she is advertising this movie as a feel-good summer movie and telling people to wear their florals to the theater. that was a real reaction not brought on by any smear campaign by justin. is it disgusting how they put out hit pieces and encouraged the backlash? yes of course. were people being brainless sheep and following blind hate by saying she shouldn't romanticize DV or use a movie about DV to sell her haircare line? no.. that was just us reading the room she wasn't paying attention to.

now we get to the thing that caused this whole lawsuit to be filed. justin's pivot that blake viewed as 'retaliation' which she told him not to do. he starts talking about the DV, not avoiding the topic like blake. he's posting survivors' stories on instgram and being vocal due to the backlash that blake was already organically receiving due to her own actions. he's talking about what people were demanding to hear and that's not a bad thing? but that's what she is saying she's upset about. did he try and profit off the bad press blake was receiving? yes. was he actually trying to paint himself as the 'good guy' while she was being painted as the 'mean girl'? yeah probably. did his PR team need to make up stories about blake? no. did everyone magically start to turn on blake because of him? no. most people stopped liking blake when she got married on a plantation or did an entire press tour defending woody allen a few years ago. she also tries to blame him for her haircare line not doing well, which is crazy because people didnt need to be brainwashed to see her hair looked terrible in the ads that were selling it. it takes a very big ego to me to think the only way people can be criticizing you is because they have to be getting paid to.

the fact that this is her reasoning for filing the lawsuit and not because of the harassment is very very telling to me. if the press junket went seamlessly and the movie was hugely successful, would this lawsuit have been filed? no. and that's crazy to think about. the lawsuit was filed against him mainly for him trying to ‘ruin her reputation’ and the sexual harassment was mainly used as a jumping off point when it should be the main point. if he wasn’t a part of this movie at all, blake still would’ve gotten the criticisms she did because those were her own actions being called out, but just on a lesser scale because justin and his team wouldn’t have been there to encourage/dogpile onto it.

[jugsjules]

Tbh if netflix had just paid for a normal trailer ad to show up when I was scrolling tumblr, same as the mobile match three ads or the ai anime boyfriend chatbots, i probably would have barely noticed. But if one piece started trending on its own bc folks were watching it and talking about it being good, I’d probably go “huh, i wasn’t into the anime, but that was more about the art and the pacing, maybe the live action show will suit me better”

Instead, mobile has been oversaturated with the logo and the character tabs and the promoted posts from netflix and the trailer and apparently on desktop people are being harangued by a clown??? So all I see is people going “I am sick of seeing one piece” and all i’m feeling is “i would like to stop seeing one piece” and that’s BEFORE factoring in that the only reason netflix has resorted to marketing like this is bc they are desperate to gain traction in the ongoing strikes and tumblr is enabling them, against the spirit of the striking workers

now to a lot of tumblr users, their association with the one piece live action is “oh yeah that’s the show that kept trying to corner me in an elevator on tumblr during a strike”

I haven’t seen a marketing campaign backfire so completely since the itunes u2 incident tbh

[italeteller]

Do you have any thoughts about the Netflix One Piece series coming out tomorrow, or is OP not really your thing?

Do I have thoughts about the Netflix One Piece? Well, lemme see

[ID: a GIF from Supernatural. Crowley opening a parchment that turns out to be unbelievably huge. End ID]

(I got into OP around 2017-2018, during Whole Cake Island arc. So it's not been a lifelong thing for me as it's been for many, but I've still gotten some time with it)

My first thoughts when I heard "Netflix Live Action One Piece" were what I suspect most people were: "boy, Netflix sure fucking loves to lose money"

(I would later be proven right on that point when the stupid fucking idiots atop Netflix decided not to pay their writers a fair wage to end the strike and lost way more money as a result - but that's a topic for a different post

(hey while I'm still in it though, is all the promotion for the show considered crossing the picket line? I'm not very clear on the rules of the thing))

But yeah, I was ready to see the whole thing crash and burn and laugh about it

Then I started seeing things about it. Like how they made Baratie and the Merry for real instead of CGI'ing them. How they got actors based on the nationalities Oda had given them on the SBS. How the crew's outfits were based on the outfits from the manga covers. How the actors of Sanji and Zeff practiced kicking together. How all the main actors were really big fans of the source material. And my heart broke for them, because surely the project would be a massive flop - I mean, seriously, One Piece Live Action? The most cartoony of mangas, adapted to real people? No way that could ever work. But I started thinking, it'd be nice if it did. For the people who really were putting their all into it

The first trailer dropped. It wasn't good

The second trailer dropped. It was so good. A bit janky but in an endearing way, some jokes got me laughing, and overall it seemed way better and way more in the spirit of what a live action One Piece should be

I saw Iñaki Godoy meeting Mayumi Tanaka and getting a straw hat from her. I saw him meet Oda, give him a den den mushi and get another straw hat from him

I saw people going to the premiere in LA and walk out happy - long time fans and newcomers all agreeing that it's good

I hope it's good. God, I hope it's good. I hope Netflix doesn't Netflix it up and cancel it after 3 seasons. I hope the internet trolls leave the people alone. For the crew who's put their hearts into it, I think they deserve it

[anthropos-metronff]

I'm happy to criticise canon when the writing is crap, but the fan clubs are honestly one of the best parts of CC and they're really amazingly good worldbuilding and writing.

But hey hey AM, isn’t it weird that Sephiroth et al have fan clubs in-universe?

Well, no not at all weird. It's very subtle so I think most people miss this, but it's clearly established that these are Shinra propaganda mediums. Post-Nibelheim, Zack’s fan club disbands "due to financial reasons." This happens irrespective of how many people you manage to get into the fanclub during the course of the game, btw.

Yup, Shinra just pulled the money on them because promoting an ex-SOLDIER is obviously of no political benefit to them.

There's also, of course, the fact that Hojo - who let us not forget is a member of the Shinra board - literally runs Sephiroth's fan club. Hojo is benign, right? Hojo would never lie to you within the format of a Shinra propaganda newsletter, would he?

Apparently a lot of people in the fandom think precisely that with no sarcasm, as I’ve seen what Hojo posts to the Silver Elite repeated ad nauseum in the fandom with absolutely no critical interogation of it whatsover.

Like, the thing about Sephiroth’s hair care routine. Hojo apparently wants us to believe that Sephiroth - well, look, I’ll just quote the entire damn thing.

“Dear members of the Silver Elite: In this update, we present another piece of Sephiroth trivia—the secrets to his beautiful long hair. The hair products he uses are of the highest grade, made and supplied by the Shinra Company. He seems to use one whole bottle of both shampoo and conditioner every time he washes his hair. They are scented with thirteen kinds of perfumes, including Rose and Vanilla. Apparently, the scent in the air after Sephiroth tosses his hair changes daily!”

Are you also thinking, like me, that the only thing this is missing is a beach at sunset and easy listening music?

This isn’t reality. This is an advertisement. A commercial. Product placement.

Would it surprise you if Hojo and the Science department had formulated “the highest grade hair products made and supplied by the Shinra company”? Would it surprise you if they had a financial stake or political arrangement with the arm of the company which manufactures and retails it? It wouldn’t surprise me. That is exactly how this would work.

Wanna have hair like Sephiroth? Then buy our damn shampoos and conditioners. One of each a week? Hell no, buy one for each day.

More. MORE!

But wait, there is more!

“Sephiroth is known to value his private life, but there was a time when he had two best friends. We'd like to share a story of this threesome guaranteed to raise a smile. The SOLDIER trio would use the training room exclusively as their playground, but in order to retain their 1st Class dignity, they would sneak in only after the 2nd Class members had gone home. Then they would proceed to have one of the three stand with a dumbapple on his head, while the other two would throw their swords at the apple to pierce it! Sephiroth always won, his Masamune always striking every dumbapple dead center.”

This makes me laugh it’s so ludicrous. It has the smell of bull drifting off it from ten feet away.

There’s a lot wrong here. First, how the hell does Hojo know all this, even assuming it’s true? That this regularly happened, in this level of detail, and Sephiroth always won?

But the physics of not just chucking swords over people’s heads, but literally a sword the length and quality of masamune about regularly, is utterly crazy. Does this even happen in anime?

We’re in the realms of storytelling here. Hojo canonically despises Hollander and his “freak show” (I think that’s the terminology he uses.) So yeah, of course he’s going to spin a tale of Sephiroth’s brilliance, using Sephiroth’s iconic sword, and his mastery over those “freaks”, and their general (And particularly for Genesis, highly OOC) submissiveness in the face of his sheer damn awesomeness.

And are the Silver Elite fans going to object to any of this? Hell no they’re not!

But this isn’t just Hojo and Shinra manipulating the in-universe public and marketising SOLDIER, this is - and this is where the great writing comes in - them manipulating you.

Yes, you. The person reading this. You want to know more about Sephiroth, right? About his likes and dislikes?

Well, thankfully Chairwoman H is here to provide for your needs. And provide Hojo has to the fandom, which as I said at the start, is often all too happy to take Hojo’s complete assurances on these subjects.

I’m honestly astounded at the level of craft involved from whoever actually thought up and wrote the fanclub stuff from crisis core. The fanclubs aren’t just a commentary on fan/idol culture and how easily it could be manipulated and subverted Shinra, they’re setting up the player and the fanbase itself to be lured in by them.

Amazing.

[artzee-bee]

Now and for eternity| Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer ( netflix)

Request:” Can you write an imagine where Lucifer’s wife is like this well known social light that owns her own luxury fashion brand and she starts receiving gifts from an obsessed secret admirer and Lucifer is unknowingly being targeted by the secret admirer who is trying to kill Lucifer in order to get the reader and Lucifer thinks it’s his father trying to ‘strike’ him down for some unknown reason until Chloe point out someone that correlates with the readers secret admirer and Lucifer’s attacker. Feeling some type away about it Lucifer decides to taunt the secret admirer by upping the PDA and romantic gestures getting a kick out in it much to Chloe’s dismay. And once the secret admirer is caught Lucifer rubs it in their face that the reader is his for now and all of eternity before showing the secret admirer his true face. ”

Genre: fluff? I guess

Warnings:death threats, stalking, attempted murder

~~~

It wasn’t unusual to receive gifts and flowers at your office. After all, with the job you worked and the wealthy people you collaborated with, the presents simply represented one of the many perks of being a designer. Except, one friday morning, while examining a particularly beautiful bouquet of pink lilies, you noticed the little card that came with it

“I know they are some of your favorite - <3 “

Usually, work associates would leave a name. Some way for you to know that they value your work and are thinking of you (and maybe to flatter you into giving them a discount), but there was no name on this card, just a tiny heart in a glittery, pink gel pen. Pink lilies were, indeed, your favorite.

You brought the flowers home and told your husband, Lucifer, all about the mysterious gift. You had talked to your secretary and even she didn’t know where the flowers came from, since no one came to drop off lilies that morning. You presumed the sender must have simply forgotten to sign the card, and perhaps your secretary had forgotten about them, with the busy morning she’d had. You and Lucifer had a laugh, imagining the shy and anxious intern that was probably assigned the job, and the scolding they’ll get when their boss finds out about their mistake.

The next morning, a box of your favorite chocolates were waiting for you on your desk. There wasn’t any note, just the same heart, written in the same glitter pen. You dismissed it as a weird coincidence and moved on to working on your designs.

Without you knowing, this also happened to be the first time Lucifer would be faced with a very interesting note. As he was getting ready to leave the police station, he noticed a piece of yellow paper, stuck to his windshield

“Back off of Y/N. Consider this your first and last warning” no signature. Anyone in Lucifer’s place would have lost their shit, but he paid it no mind. He was the devil after all! If anyone wants to take his precious Y/N away from him, well, they can try. It would make things all the more fun. He folded the paper and stuffed it in his pocket before heading home.

The couple shared Y/N’s chocolates that night, talking about who this person might be. Lucifer wasn’t as amused as he had been the night before, if anything he was rather concerned but he didn’t want to say anything about the note to Y/N, because she would freak out. 

Nothing really happened for the next week. Anonymous gifts stopped showing up at Y/N’s office, Lucifer didn’t get any more notes and things were falling back in their place, until the day right after Y/N’s latest photoshoot went public and viral. It was all to promote her upcoming clothing line. As soon as she walked into the office the next day, she spotted a red, velvet box, the size of a notebook, in the middle of her desk. On top of it, a note written in the same glittery pink as the other gifts

“Congratulations on your new line. Those photos are gorgeous - J.P. <3”

Inside the box was a gorgeous diamond necklace, looking like it was worth millions. If you hadn’t been concerned about the sudden apparition of all these gifts so far, you sure were now. You immediately called your husband to tell him about the mysterious jewelry, but he didn’t pick up. Unbeknown to you, he was busy ranting to detective Decker.

“I mean, not to be dramatic, detective, but the situation does feel like it’s spiralling out of control. Death threats, sure, those come every other weekend, kind of like fanmail, y’know? But actual gun shots fired at my head, well, that’s where I draw the line.” he ended with a giggle. Lucifer was leaning on Decker’s desk as she was examining the bullet casings Lucifer had brought her from his apparent ‘attempted assasination’

“Where did this happen again?” she said, not taking her eyes off of her work

“Right by that coffee shop ms. Lopez always talks about. I may have lost a bet to her the other day and have to get her coffee for the rest of the week, so I was just exiting the shop when a masked man in a dark blue BMW zoomed by, pointing his gun at me and shooting blindly. I mean, that is the most basic attemp at murder I have ever witnessed. At least make it interesting!”

“Lucifer, if someone is out for your life, it’s serious business”

“Why would it be? It’s not like I can actually die, detective! Plus, it’s probably not that deep anyways. Just, dear old dad coming after me again for no particular reason. Very characteristic of him.”

“ You’re getting ahead of yourself. Whoever sent this wants you and Y/N apart, why would your dad want that?”

“Because he’s a prick who disagrees with everything and anything that makes me happy?” Lucifer concludes with an innocent smile “And, of course, Y/N being moral, our marriage goes against the heavenly rules of the almighty, so he’s trying to break us apart, but worry not detective! Me and Y/N are stronger and more in love than ever. My father will simply have to accept that. Nothing will break us apart” he said, puffing his chest out with confidence

“That’s good to hear Lucifer, but I still think we should stay open to different possibilities”

“Oh, come on detective, that would be a waste of our time. I know my father better than anyone, believe me when I tell you this is his hand and no one else's. Case closed! Now, let’s move to the next one! Chop chop detective, murders won’t solve themselves!” Lucifer said, marching out of the precinct. Chloe rolled her eyes at her partner, before hiding the bullets and the note in her desk and going after him.

Although it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but notice how much more touchy Lucifer had been with you, ever since the necklace incident. He needed to touch you at all times: when you were out for coffee, at lunch, at the station, in your office, in Lux. His hand was always either around your waist or tangled in yours. You felt sort of bad, thinking he must be a little insecure with this secret admirer being after you at all times, but you wanted him to know that you loved him more than anything and that no matter what, you would never leave him for a faceless man, no matter how many pearls and chocolates he bribes you with. And so, you decided to play along with him, giving him as much attention as you could. Your visits at the station almost doubled, you always cleared your schedule to make time for him and even decided to start work later in  the day than usual, so you could spend more time with him in the morning. 

One afternoon, as you were enjoying your time with Decker and Lucifer during their lunch time, one of the notes from your secret admirer slipped out of your pocket. You didn’t realise it until Chloe picked it up

“Oh, I was going to throw that out”

“Where’s this from?” she asked, studying the note

“Just one of this week's gifts” you confessed awkwardly. Without a second thought, the detective reached for her drawer, pulling out another note from inside and inspecting them side by side. Eventually, she placed them both in front of Lucifer

“Notice something interesting about the writing?”

“They are remarkably similar…”

“More like identical”

“What is that?” you asked, looking at the unknown note. Your heart sank as you read it

“I’ll explain everything at home dear, I swear” Lucifer said

“You’ve received death threats because of me?”

“I’ll tell you everything at home, I promise”

“You have initials…” Decker noticed

“Yeah, ever since my photoshoot, they’re present on every package”

“What floor is your office on again?”

“5th, why?”

“How can someone enter your office every morning without anyone, not even your secretary noticing, and exit just as mysteriously?” “Unless he found a different way in” Lucifer replied

“My window” you realise “You can step out directly onto the emergency staircase from there”

“He knew when to sneak in without being seen, so he must have known your schedule like the back of his hand. Who could know?”

“The only people who know it are my secretary and Lucifer”

“A stalker?” your husband suggested

“Maybe” Decker turned quickly to her computer “I’m going to check any business owners around that neighbourhood who could have had a close shot of when you enter and exit your studio, see if any initially match the ones on the notes. We’ll go from there” 

You thanked Chloe for the help and went home with Lucifer, who spent the entire car ride explaining the note to you and the events of the previous days. You were angry at him for keeping all of it away from you, but ultimately happy that he was safe. You spent the night drinking wine and rewatching all of your comfort movies, to calm your nerves.

You decided to try working from home for the next couple of days, too scared by the idea of a stranger following your every move. It was a challenging process but Lucifer did his best in helping you get accustomed to this new routine. His homemade meals could not compare to anything you would eat while in a meeting with your business associates. Plus, the company was much more delightful.

Chloe texted you, almost a week later, to come down to the station as quickly as possible. They had found the guy. You hopped into your car and when you finally arrived, Lucifer was waiting for you outside

“They found him?” 

“Yes dear, they did”

“How?”

“Well, as it turns out he lived in the apartment building next door. His living room window had a great view of everything happening in your office. We’ve found a week’s worth of gifts he was planning to deliver. It’s him for sure” 

“Thank you” you whispered before collapsing into Lucifer’s arms and hugging him tight

“It’s alright lovely. It’s over now. Let’s go see how the detective is handling it. I think they’re in the interrogation room now.”

From behind the glass, you watched the man that threatened your marriage and your husband's life, confess to everything. Admit to stalking you, in order to learn your schedule. Break into your office and open fire on Lucifer. More than enough to get him behind bars for a long time. Decker and Lucifer got up and were ready to leave, but your husband requested a couple of minutes alone with the man. The detective agreed, cautioning him to not do something stupid, before leaving them alone. Lucifer turned on his heels to face the man in handcuffs and you could instantly tell he was furious

“Truly an honorable try. Y/N is one of a kind, you were right about that, the only detail you missed is that, you see, she’s taken. By me” the mischievous smile on his face let you know that he was up to no good “Our bond is indestructible and it’s really laughable to think that you’ve risked so much to tear us apart when you didn’t stand a chance to begin with” Lucifer leaned over the table, now his back was facing you “Me and Y/N are, and forever will be, together. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change that. She is mine and I am hers, now and for eternity” as his little speech came to an end, you noticed the man in handcuffs go pale with terror. He began shaking in his chair, screaming incoherently about the devil. Even tho you hadn’t see what your husband did, you could tell by the man’s reaction. You laughed to yourself, not even mad that Lucifer had used his devil face against this man. You would have done the same if you had the option.

[s4rainbows]

Back at it again with this whole challenge stuff.

This Challenge is half “Survive this”, half Legacy, and based around the various stages the main group in the TV Show “The Walking Dead” went through. You don’t need to have watched it to play this challenge, but many requirements will feel arbitrary if you haven’t. Since these aren’t really, uh, generations, I will refer to the individual parts of this challenge as “Stages” Packs required: Outdoor Retreat, Seasons, Eco Lifestyle, Get Together, City Living, Discover University, Get to Work

The Setup:

- You will need either Triplis’ “Kids Quit School” mod ot MCCC to make quitting school possible. - Create your founder and any number of other survivors in CAS, Two of these additional survivors need to be children. - Use your own physical dice or find an online dice roller, you will need that!

General Rules:

- It’s the Apocalypse, so buy mode is heavily restricted. You can’t just go to Ikea and buy  new couch! You will need to use the fabrication and handiness skills to make furniture! Some Random Events and generational rules may allow you to get stuff otherwise

- You may only cook with ingredients you have! If you play this after the release of Cottage Living, use the Lot Challenge!

- You will always play off the grid!

- The monetary cost of crafting is considered “materials”. You can "barter” for materials by using the selling table from City Living, or sell furniture and stuff you scavenged, thus “dismantling” it and salvaging it.

- Any children you have aside from the two you create in CAS automatically suffer a -2 penalty to all rolls they perform, on account of being children. 

- Randomized townies you encounter are generally considered zombies. (or WaLkErS of you don’t wanna use the evil Z word). If they engage you in conversation, consider it an attack and roll a d20, adding 1 for every two levels of fitness the Sim in question has. Below a 15, they get injured in the scuffle and are out of comission for the rest of the day. Below a 10, they get infected and die

- Pregnant and elderly Sims cannot perform any chores or other survival tasks and suffer the same -2 penalty as children!

- Every ingame week, roll on the random events table!

- Play with normal lifespan!

Stage 1: The Atlanta Survivors Camp You just survived the Apocalypse’s initial outbreak and you are settling with a small group outside a large city. However, calamity soon threatens your little sanctuary.

- Move your household anywhere with freerealestate, then take a vacation on the campground lot in Granite Falls.  - Set your money to 5k and start your grind. When you can no longer extend your vacation, your camp gets overrun and you are forced to flee. Roll Fitness checks for each member of your group and disable/kill accordingly. - If your founder dies in this, appoint a new one from the surviving sims

Stage 2: Hershel’s Farm After getting out of the overrun camp and having a little happening at the CDC, you are back on the road and lose one of your two kids in a run-in with a horde. Worse, even, your other kid gets shot and is badly injured! Thankfully, you are offered help by a small family on a nearby farm.

- Kill of one of your two CAS-created kids. Sorry, Sophia! - The other CAS-created kid is now injured for the rest of thi stage and can’t help you out or build skills. - Move your sims to one of the lots south of the Chalet in Windernburg (Or Henford on Bagley if Cottage Living is out!)  and build a little farmhouse big enough to accommodate four sims, with a small vegetable garden and 2 power generating and 3 water generating items. -Create four Sims that “own” the farm and help you out. One of them has to be an elder! - Two weeks into this stage, the farm will, unfortunately, get overrun and also set on fire. Do your fitness rolls for everyone and run for your life.

Stage 3: The Prison Again, you are on the run, but there’s a little shimmer of light at the end of the tunnel - an abandoned prison! Now, you just need to like... reclaim it.

- Build a Prison, or download one from the gallery! - Cheat one of your sim pregnant, if you don’t have a pregnancy yet. - Reclaim the prison! Make Fitness rolls for each level + the outside. - After your pregnant Sim gives birth, kill her. Sorry, Lori! - Create a rival 8-sim household and put your sims in a club, and their rivals in one too. Have  “fight (other club)” as one of the activities, then have them visit you and... start... a gathering... ;)

Stage 4 The Prison 2, Electric Boogaloo You defeated Woodbury! ... or did you? Well, you don’t really have time to deal with it right now, because there is a deadly strain of influenza wrecking your community. 

- Start placing ads for roommates. Those are the former Woodbury people you took in! - Every Time someone gets one of the GTW illnesses, roll your d20. Below a 10, they die to the sickness. Kill them, and roll fitness for one of your household sims, since the dead turn into walkers! - Three weeks into this stage, your friend, the Governor of Woodbury, comes back with a fresh new group he roped into his nonsense. Roll Fitness checks and book it. (also kill the Governor. RIP in pieces)

Stage 5: Terminus From bad to worse, you’re on the run again, and split up this time. Divided we fall, huh? Good thing there’s this totally not ominous set of markers leading you to a place called Terminus. I’m sure nothing bad will happen there.

- Split your Household and surviving roommates and pop them all into different empty lots. Play a week with each of them (aging off here, this is meant to happen simultaneously!) and roll on the random events table until you have eight sims left in total. Hope you weren’t attached to any of them. - Put them back into the same household again, and create yet another rival club to beat up. That rival club is Terminus. Surprise, the group with the name meaning “Death” was bad! - Switch to your Terminus household and “invite” your sims over, then lock them in the basement, true sims style. Go downstairs and start a club gathering. Keep an eye on them, every time someone loses a fight, kill them. Do this until you have either 5 good guys left or all of Terminus is dead.

Stage 6: Alexandria and The other blokes You got away from the humanitarians and were invited into the community of Alexandria. Thing are finally looking up again!

- Move to a 50x50 lot and build a little “village” with gardens, energy production and everything you might need. - Create two more 8-sim-households on similar situations and create clubs for them, with the activity to be friendly with yours! These two households will be Hilltop and The Kingdom. - Make one of the Evergreen Harbor Community Spaces a marketplace and frequent it! - Stay in this stage for four weeks!

Stage 7: The Saviour War Things just couldn’t stay okay, could they? You ticked off a horrible cult-of-personality-type organization called the Saviours, who now start their reign of terror against you.

- Create another household and club meant to be mean to you, Hilltop and the kingdom. Make their Leader a magnificent bastard and give that one plot armor. Narrative Immunity! - Host a little multi-club gathering and roll a d8 twice. Look at your own household portrait lineup and kill two of your sims whose portrait position corresponds to your rolls. - Take your strongest fighter, aka the highst fitness stat, aka Daryl Dixon and put them into their own household, to take them out of the equation for a while. They’re the Saviours’ prisoner now! - Congrats, you have been promoted to vassal state. The Saviours demand five of every crop you produce. Don’t hav enough to feed your people? Sucks to be you! - Stay in this stage for 4 weeks, then bring back your poor fighter, and kill off half of the Saviours, add the rest to your household and Kingdom & Hilltop. Their Leader must survive! Keep them in your basement from now on and visit them regularly to gloat.

Stage 8: The Whisperer War Finally, some stability. Oh, whats that? New enemy faction, and this one of even worse? Fantastic.

- Cease communication and trade with Hilltop & Kingdom for two weeks, Then hold a big party! - ...during said party,  kill 12 total sims from each faction. - Create a new rival faction called the Whisperers. Make their two leaders, Alpha & Beta, level 10 in fitness. - Hold weekly brawls with the whisperers. Kill every fight loser, but replenish the Whisperers losses. There’s no end to their forces! - Give Alpha a daughter and take her in after your first clash with them. - When you resume trade, roll a D20 every time you travel away from your lot. Below a 10, your travel party gets attacked by the Whisperers! Roll Fitness checks for every Siim traveling. - Remember the Saviour leader? Yeah, they’re doing better. Have them befried one of your household’s children, and gradually integrate them into your community. - After an additional 4 weeks of this, send your redeemed Saviour leader over to the Whisperers and befriend them. They’re a spy now! - Survive another week, then ply s the Whisperers and attack Hilltop! Move the survivors into your main household. - After this attack, your spy strikes and kills Alpha. Put them back into your household, then gear up for a big fight! - Cheat “Roughhousing ecouraged” in your NAPs, then gather all surviving characters along with the Whisperers and fight!

Did you survive this? Well, until season 11 comes out, that’s as far as we go. You can continue playing with the Random Events and general ruleset!

RANDOM EVENTS:

D20: 1.  There’s a drought. Sell all your stored water and reset your money back down 2. Zombie Attack! Roll Fitness and kill accoridngly! 3. Electric whoopsie-doopsie. Sell your stored electricty and set your money bck down 4. Roving bandits! The next time travel, all your traveling sims lose their inventory contents! If they had none, kill one of them! 5. Baby Boom! Get one fo your Sims pregnant 6. Other Survivors! Roll a d4 and add the resulting nuber of sims to your household! 7. Tragic accident! Kill a random sim 8. Extra Ammo! Every Sim gets a +1 to their next fitness roll! 9. Thunderstorm! Your Sims may not leave their lot for this week! 10: Supply thief! select a random sim and hoard food for this week. At the end of the week they get found out nd either killed or exiled! 11. Breach! Your wall has a breach! Reduce your funds by 150 to fix it. If you don’t have that much, kill a random sim in the resulting zombie incusrsion! 12. Illness! There’s a flareup of the deadly flu from the prison! Play with this Stage’s rules (regarding the illness) for this week! 13: Re-roll! 14. Sabotage! Your fabricator and woodworking table cannot be used this week! 15. Zombie Attack! Roll Fitness and kill accordingly! 16. Lost Child! You find a random child, adopt one! (cheat the money for the adoption) 17: Feast! Your Sims make the poorly informed decision to par-tay! Delete all the stored crops you have. 18. Horde! It’s too dangerous to leave the fortifications right now! Suspend all travel this week. 19. Foraging! Cheat yourself enough money and buy a seasonal seed packet that corresponds to this season! 20. Re-Roll!

[jaehotbuns]

idolboyfriend!mark

♡ 2.6k, fluff  =^._.^= ∫

you first met Mark on a Nature Republic photo shoot where your friend was a hair stylist 

she called you frantically because the SM staff caught multiple employees from each department posting on their personal social media stories the location and whereabouts of the members and dismissed them from the site

they were shooting at an island in the middle of nowhere which you were conveniently writing a thesis on different landscapes of South Korea 

you had no experience of styling other people and only did it for yourself but you knew you couldn’t leave your friend deserted so you came to help in any way that you could

half of the staff were fired on the spot so they immediately pushed you towards the members to prepare them for their next shoot after threatening legal action if you decided to act as stupidly as the other stylists did 

you saw your friend quickly adjusting the collar of theHawaiian shirt that was roughly put on Jaehyun and she gave you an apologetic look and mouthed a ‘thank you’

you were assigned at styling Mark’s hair, which you were scared of because you had never styled a man’s hair before never mind a celebrity but you squared your shoulders and hoped for the best

he was already used to the chaos but he was slightly concerned at how well you would perform considering that your eyebrows were furrowed and had sweat rolling down your temples as you scrunched the ends of his hair with mousse to create beachy waves

every stylist that he met was always either professional and stoic or overly friendly to try and get with the members romantically but he tried to suppress his laughter when he saw your distressed face under your medical mask

in such a stressful and hectic situation, he would never talk to the staff to help them focus but he couldn’t help but strike up a conversation with you

you looked younger than him too so he felt more comfortable

“first time?” he asked with a smile on his face as he looked up at you

your hands stopped in the middle of combing the fluffy mousse through his hair and your face dropped slightly, “you could tell?”

Mark covered his laugh with his hand as he didn’t want to discourage you but couldn’t help but chuckle at the cute expression on your face 

“yeah,” he answered but then realized that it came out meaner than he had intended

“but you’re doing a great job! Keep going!” He tried to encourage you by motioning with his hands to continue

you patted his hair into place for finishing touches but you pouted under your mask when you realized, “how would you know? You can’t even see it” 

there were no mirrors in sight except for the hand mirrors that stylists held on their belt

he choked on his saliva out of embarrassment and rubbed his hand awkwardly on the back of his neck

“well let’s see then!” He exclaimed and you begrudgingly gave him the hand mirror to see 

you were bracing yourself in case he thought you made his hair into a bird’s nest and demanded you to be fired on the spot but he let a “wahh” escape his mouth as he admired the hairstyle 

“this actually looks great!” He said a little too excitedly 

“we were both expecting it to look bad then, huh?” You joked but really you were relieved that he thought it didn’t look atrocious 

Mark shook his head to deny but you held his shoulders in place to not disrupt his hair 

his face went pink and you realized that you just touched a client, a very influential client 

you lifted your hands off of him quickly and stepped back so that he could stand up from his chair and go in front of the cameras to prepare for the shoot

“thank you” he said and you both exchanged bows before awkwardly getting back to work 

you stayed on the set with your friend for the rest of the day until the sun went down and the sky turned a bright pink from the previous ocean blue 

luckily, that was the last hair and clothes change that NCT needed and everyone started to pack up after the photographer and managers shouted “thank you for your work” and everyone bowed and clapped to each other 

while each member started to load into their vans to get back to the city for their next schedule, Mark ran up to you and asked if you were apart of the SM staff or were for hire from another beauty boutique

“oh, I just came last minute,” you said 

“I’m not actually licensed for this I came to help”

he let out a disappointed “oh” and decided not to take your number down since it was unprofessional and knew that after the fiasco today that there could be anyone around to expose him if he did 

“good night, see you around,” he said in hopes that he would see you again

you doubted that he would see you around but you repeated what he said and waved at him as he ran into the van 

the other members were confused as to why he ran off to greet you and were ready to tease him since they noticed that you were his type physically 

but he knew that they were about to so he lied and said that he forgot to take a bracelet from you and pretended to fall asleep so that they couldn’t question him further

you thought about that was a once in a lifetime experience until 2 weeks later the campaign was a hit and everyone was fawning over Mark specifically since he looked like boyfriend material in a white button up shirt and blue jeans with messy beach hair 

your friend called to tell you that she recommended you as a freelance hair stylist after they asked her who did Mark’s hair 

as a broke college student living in another country you took the offer but felt guilty getting an amazing job with no credentials so you got licensed at a beauty school within 2 months 

the next time you saw Mark was on the Punch music video set 

he had everything on except makeup and hair 

you were taken aback at how different he looked with the leather pieces, chain jewelry, and overall bad boy vibes

he was sitting in front of the dressing room vanities and his face lit up when he saw you stand behind him with your cart of hair products and tools 

usually he’d stay still in his chair but this time he turned around to face you, “hey! I thought you said you weren’t even licensed?”

“I decided to after getting offered a job” you smiled 

he turned around and looked at you through the mirror’s reflection, “or did you come back because of me?” 

you coughed through your mask and felt the heat creep from your neck all the way to your cheeks and temples

Mark smiled to himself when he saw your bright red face and was even more excited for the music video shoot knowing that the stylist he thought was cute would be doing his hair on a regular basis and could see him act cool on stage

to not let you out of his sights again, Mark pulled his phone off of the vanity table in front of him and went straight to his Instagram search page, “can I have your Insta by the way?” 

you were combing the translucent gel through his hair when you tilted your head out of curiosity of why he would want your socials 

“I send what kind of hairstyles and concepts I’d like to try to stylists on here,” he said 

in actuality Mark wasn’t one of the idols that really cared of how his stylists dressed him like Johnny or Jaehyun but he wanted an excuse so that his interest in you was too obvious

“oh sure,” you spelled out your Instagram handle and you saw him follow you right away

for the rest of the shoot for the two days that it took place, Mark would admire you every time you came up to him between scenes to wipe the sweat off his forehead and to spray his hair with setting mist 

although you were a fan of the group, you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable so you invested all of your focus on making them look their best

Mark appreciated that; you weren’t completely cold and professional but you also didn’t cross any boundaries by asking him about his personal life or interviewing him like some new stylists did 

when you got home you decided to look at Mark’s profile and saw that he was only following his family, friends from Vancouver, idols friends, and a few celebrities that he looked up to 

you were the only staff member that he was following other than his managers

but you didn’t think for a second Mark liked you

even though during promotions he would text you on his time off about your day and ask you about yourself 

“because I don’t want to be to formal” was his excuse to his unofficial game of 21 questions 

even though after promotions when he was on his break, he’d ask you to go shopping with him “to get some inspiration from uh hair stuff” 

at one point he was bold enough to ask you to go to a cafe because he said he felt like you two were friends at one point

behind the scenes, Johnny caught on quickly at how Mark was on his phone more often when he’d usually just use it to play mobile games or listen to music 

“I don’t think you left the bracelet with the pretty stylist,” Johnny would tease Mark one day when he saw him re-reading your texts and smiling to himself 

“you left your heart,” he’d say and slap himself on the knee from laughing too hard at his own joke

“can you get out of my room?” Mark would retort in embarrassment but it was worse for him from there

Johnny told both floors that Mark had a big fat crush on the young stylist and was flirting with them 24/7 

Mark wasn’t really the type to get in his feelings 

sure he’d find different celebrities or employees that he’d work with attractive but he knew it was for business or that they’d just be really good friends in the industry 

but you felt like home 

like he could imagine that if he was back in Vancouver that you two would meet at a library or something and he’d ask you for a coffee after you asked him to watch your bag to go to the washroom 

that was what he’d imagine before he went to sleep at night anyways 

half of the time he’d stay up thinking about asking you out officially and keeping your relationship as a secret and the other half of the time he’d kick his blankets scolding himself for even thinking that because it would put both of your careers on the line and he didn’t want you to feel the burden of dating in secret

you also had feelings for Mark but thought that he was just friendly and flirty 

even if he did have feelings for you, you thought that it would be best to just stay as friends because you didn’t want to get in the way of his career

one day Mark couldn’t take it anymore and went to the convenient store by himself instead of riding bikes with Haechan and Renjun like he originally planned to 

they noticed that he didn’t get embarrassed or annoyed at the teasing anymore and just kept to himself so they followed him to the store and found him outside on a bench with a beer in his hand

both of them sat beside him and Haechan grabbed the beer and took a swig, “just tell her” 

Mark placed his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I don’t want to ruin it for us… Or for her”

Renjun placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “if you both have strong feelings for each other then it’ll always work out in the end” 

Mark shook his head although he appreciated the support, “what if the stress gets us to break up? What if I make it awkward for her at work?” 

Haechan stopped him and told him sternly, “I see the way you two look at each other and I know that she’d accept if you asked. If the press or pressure causes you to break up then at least you tried.” 

Renjun added on more gently, “do you just want to continue suffering forever? What if she’s waiting for you too?” 

Mark didn’t want to think about it any longer and as a lightweight, the 2 cans of beer in his system were already giving him courage

if he had another night to think about it, he’d probably never confess to you so he decided in his tipsy state to confess right then 

with urgency, he told you to meet you at Hangang River right away 

“thank you guys,” he said while standing up too quickly 

he stumbled a little bit before starting to walk towards the meeting place, “I can do it!”

“you can do it!” Renjun laughed while holding up too fists to show his support

Haechan on the other hand held up his phone and started to record Mark walking clumsily towards the river, “don’t mess up loser!” 

you were finishing up on your readings when you got Mark’s text 

it sounded like he was going to confess but you shook the thought out of your head at the thought of a global star asking you out 

“probably wants to de-stress with a friend,” you thought before putting on a hoodie and jeans before walking to Hangang

when you arrived you could smell a mixture of beer and mint in his breath

His face was flushed pink which was a result of the alcohol and the 2.2km he had just walked

“why did you call me out all of a sudden?” You asked 

“will you go out with me?” He said a little bit too loudly

you quickly looked around to make sure that no one was within a kilometre near you too and asked in a hushed voice, “what?”

“I like you!” He nearly shouted, not aware of his volume due to the nervousness of the chance of rejection

“I tried not to like you ever since I met you but I can’t get you out of my head,” he avoided your gaze and couldn’t believe how cheesy he sounded

Mark continued regardless, “I know that we have to date in secret if you do like me but I promise to protect you and I won’t regret my decision if anything happens. So uh-”

“yes,” you grinned. “I’ll go out with you”

he was surprised at how you accepted with ease, “oh wow I wasn’t expecting this. Thank you for listening to me talk on haha, I don’t even know what to say I-”

to stop his blabbering you held onto his arms to steady yourself for when you went on your tippy toes to peck him on the lips

“that’s not fair” he pouted

“what’s not fair?”

“that’s it?” He murmured under his breath 

“then get some more” you teased

his hands cupped the sides of your face and bent his neck down to reach your height

your hand wrapped around his waist to pull him into a hug while his warm lips pressed onto yours

[brynfelan]

The One Where Hajime Only Knows Class 77b Because He Works At A 24-Hour Grocery Store

it’s DONE, it’s BAD, it has all the pacing of a POORLY-WRITTEN SNL SKETCH, but I can’t give less of a shit I am tired and putting it out into the world. @idnek83 I told you I’d fucking write it. It’s 5am and this was written purely out of spite. also, the credit for this idea goes to them. the only reason i wrote this is because they were too much of a coward to.

Word Count: 3272 Summary: Hajime Hinata works at a 24-hour grocery store and only knows class 77-B because they all come in at different times to buy some weird shit. Chaos ensues. This is crack, just straight up crack.

There are worse things than working the graveyard shift. It pays a little extra than day hours, there’s less work to do at the counter, and the only thing Hajime really has to worry about is a drunk customer getting rowdy. Actually, he enjoys it in a weird way. He just stands at the counter, runs people up, and then leaves at six in the morning to do whatever the hell he wants with his day. Usually sleeping, but it’s also nice to be free all the time.

His favourite part of the job is the set of students that come in between the hours of two and five almost every day. They aren’t usually together, but he’s pieced together that they’re all in the same class by descriptions that he’s gotten from the more talkative of the bunch. He doesn’t know all of their names, some of them he only knows by nicknames, but he does know all of their faces.

Kazuichi Soda for example, comes in at around two in the morning every Friday night. He usually buys shitty beer or cheap liquor, and complains that he’s the one that got sent out from the party to get more booze. Sometimes he also picks up random assortments of tools or screws. Hajime thinks it should probably be illegal to sell a man a 40 of cheap whiskey and a power drill at two in the morning, but he learnt to stop questioning the combination of things that people buy at this kind of hour. He dreads to think of the drunk creations that Soda makes.

On the other hand, Mahiru only comes in around once a month. Hajime knows her name is Mahiru because the first time, she drunkenly introduced herself to him and tried to explain that her combination of items were for a photoshoot and not for any kind of nefarious purpose. He isn’t quite sure what kind of crime she could commit with several bunches of half-dead flowers, a whole cream cake and a bottle of champagne, but he’d definitely like to see it.

It’s four in the morning on a Tuesday. Hajime gets off in two hours, and he’s currently dealing with one Gundham Tanaka. He knows his name is Gundham Tanaka, because he announces it every single time that he gets rung up.

“Huh. Sunflower seeds and hamster bedding. You got any pets?” It’s an innocent question, but at this point he really should have learnt not to question Gundham.

“You fool! I, Gundham Tanaka, have my four Dark Devas of Destruction at my command, ready to strike at any moment for insinuating that they are mere pets as you mere mortals call them!” Ah, good. This happens every time. “You may also notice that I am purchasing this protective potion. This is a defensive measure to protect myself from the very devils that seek to feast on my demon blood!

Hajime looks down at the mosquito spray. He’s definitely not getting paid enough for this.

“Right, yeah. Sorry man. I hope those, uh, devils don’t bother ya too much. That’ll be twenty-two fifty-nine.”

Four hamsters poke out from Gundham’s scarf to deliver the money to Hajime. He isn’t sure if that’s sanitary, but at least he gets to see some cute animals during his shift. For “warriors”, as Gundham calls them, they’re pretty sweet and don’t seem to be adverse to getting pet when they hand (mouth?) him the bills.

Even if it gives him daytime freedom, this job isn’t worth ten seventy-two an hour. He sometimes thinks about switching to the day shift, but he gets paid more to work nights and effectively does half the work. Hajime knows that it’s the best job he’s gonna get for a while, and it pays enough to get him through college. Still, he reminds himself to check for something better when his shift’s over.

Gundham is the last of the class he sees that night. He’s definitely eccentric, maybe the most eccentric of the bunch, but he’s never caused a real scene. Except for one time when he managed to smash three bottles of red wine in quick succession, but it happens. Hajime didn’t have to clean it up, so he’s definitely not paid enough to care.

The next night, it’s Sonia that walks in. She’s never formally introduced herself to him, but Soda never shuts up about her, so Hajime has a pretty good idea of who she is. She’s buying nearly his month’s rent in skincare products and murder mystery novels. She talks the whole time too, about how this store is so different to ones in her home country, how he must get so many interesting experiences working at these hours.

“Yeah, you sure could call it interesting,” He snorts a little, “You get some interesting people come in at these hours.”

“Ah, of course! You are a respectable man to hold a necessary job such as this, I believe I would be, as they say, boned without you here! Is it customary to tip workers in institutions such as this?”

Jesus, how much money does this girl have?

“Uh, not grocery store workers ma’am. Cash or card?”

When she pulls out the cash from her purse, Hajime nearly faints. He decides that she must either be a foreign dignitary or deep in some criminal ring in order to have this much money on her person at any one time. It’s not even in exact change, and she’s a hundred over her total.

“This is too much, ma’am. Here, this is yours.”

When he tries to give the hundred back to her, she steps away from the register and puts her hands behind her back. She’s smiling, and shaking her head.

“Oh, no. I shan’t be taking that! You must keep it.”

She’s either an angel, or Satan trying to tempt him with nearly double what he makes in a night. Arguing with her is pointless, she refuses to take her items until he pockets the cash. He hopes that he never has to explain that to his manager, because he hasn’t read the company policy but he’s nearly a hundred percept sure that accepting personal money is very much against it. She finally leaves nearly half an hour later, after insisting he keep the money. He can’t tell if he hopes she comes back, or that he never sees her again.

He ends up keeping the hundred. That’s way too much money to be given to pass up.

If Hajime had to name a favourite customer out of the students, it would have to be the girl that comes in a couple of nights a week to buy snacks. He doesn’t know her name, but she always talks about video games. They share the same taste in them, and he likes hearing about his favourites from another person’s perspective. He doesn’t really have anybody to play them with, but it almost feels like he does when she comes in and asks how far he’s gotten in whatever just came out that week. He thinks about her during his shift sometimes when things get slow.

That same night, a boy with all the manners of a particularly pissed off cat comes in. He’s with a girl that towers over him, and Hajime would laugh if he wasn’t afraid of getting his ass handed to him, since he’s pretty sure the girl is carrying a sword. He’s buying twelve packs of cookies, and a single toy bunny. He pays with a black credit card. Neither of them say anything to Hajime. He’s pretty sure that’s the “Baby Gangsta” that Soda has spoken about on a couple of occasions, but definitely doesn’t want to ask just in case he gets sliced in half. He only notices that he was holding his breath when they leave.

An absolutely giant man walks in just as Hajime is about to clock out. No really, he’s huge and all muscle. Hajime might be scared of him, if he didn’t have such a huge smile on his face. He occasionally comes in early in the morning to buy a hideous amount of protein powder and other groceries. Every time he does, he invites Hajime to “train” with him. Hajime is too scared to ask what training involves, and turns it down every time. By the size of the guy, he’s pretty sure any amount of training would kill him.

Hajime doesn’t know when he clocks in the next night that it’s going to be the most hellish night of his life. He doesn’t know that tonight is the night he hands in his two weeks yet. He’s pretty optimistic when he walks in, freshly showered and having just gotten back a pretty decent grade for one of his classes.

It starts at five. Kazuichi Soda walks in first, already drunk and talking to Baby Gangsta about some motorbike he’s going to jack up so much it won’t be road legal anymore. The Giant Man is close behind, talking to a girl about doing “it” (Hajime has no idea what “it” is and frankly he isn’t sure he wants to know). That’s the first sign. No more than three of them have ever walked in together at any one time.

Lagging behind a little is Gundham and Sonia, followed by Mahiru and the tiny girl that sometimes accompanies her. The only thing Hajime can remember about her is that she called some other girl a “toilet clogging bitch” one time. Three other men follow behind, one with light hair that looks just a little too skinny to be healthy, one that looks nearly exactly the same as him except taller and heavier, and one that’s even shorter than Baby Gansta. A girl with her eyes glued to a Game Girl trails behind them, the Sword Girl almost steering her out of the way of a promotional stand for donuts. Behind them is Ibuki Mioda, a girl that comes in sometimes to buy Monster Energy by the crate at three in the morning, talking to Mikan Tsumiki who usually accompanies her to run of the health risks of drinking too much caffeine.

Behind all of them is the devil himself, dressed up like an angel. Hajime doesn’t know he’s the devil yet, but he will in about an hour.

They’re in the store for all of ten minutes before shit starts going south. Hajime can hear things being tossed around in the aisles and shouting. He definitely isn’t paid enough to deal with that, so he stands at his register and hopes it calms down.

“C’mon, we just finished our finals, Ibuki wants to go hard!”

That’s never a good thing to hear when you still have two hours of your shift left.

Now, part of the reason why Hajime likes working the graveyard shift is that it’s quiet. Nothing happens, except for the one time a guy in a Scream mask came in and robbed his register at axe-point, but he’d already been working at the store for two weeks and couldn’t give less of a crap whether or not the company lost money over that. Tonight, it isn’t quiet. Tonight, there are sixteen students that Hajime thinks might give him a migraine if they don’t shut up for five minutes.

The worst part is when they disperse through the store. Before, all the noise was coming from one place. Now it’s everywhere. Hajime thinks that some of them are having a competition to see who can make all the toys that make sounds go off in the quickest amount of time. He can hear shouting and squealing and laughing (and is that crying? Is one of them crying in his store?) and he wonders if it would be worth it to just walk out and let them take whatever they want.

It doesn’t end there. There’s a loud smashing sound, and then the high-pitched whine of the girl who looks too young to be buying booze but Hajime has never cared enough to card because it’s not his job to parent her.

“You snot-nosed bitch! I bet you’re trying to make Hope’s Peak look bad, you drunk whore!”

“I’m s-sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The crying gets worse the more the short one yells, “I-I’ll clean it up and pay for it, don’t worry! Please forgive me!”

Hope’s Peak is that exclusive private place down the street, right? Hajime passes it everyday, but couldn’t have ever dreamed of getting to study there. He isn’t even really sure what they teach, besides that they always push out the greatest in whatever field of study they run. No, Hajime chose the cheaper option, and while it might have been nice to go somewhere so prestigious, it definitely wouldn’t have been good for his wallet.

From the other side of the store, he hears clapping and laughing. He doesn’t even want to think about what fresh hell is going on in the DIY section, where he’s pretty sure he can hear Soda spilling paint everywhere if the swearing from Baby Gangsta is anything to go buy.

Half an hour or so after they all walked in, Hajime is ringing up fifteen people. He’s the only one working tonight until the cleaners come in, and this is more people than he’s ever had to deal with in his life.

Sonia has bought sixteen bottles of the most expensive champagne the store sells. Hajime doesn’t want to think about the ordeal he went though last time she was here, so when she pushes an extra hundred into his hand he doesn’t bother arguing with her. Gundham, on the other hand, has apparently bought up every single vegan burger that was in the freezer section. He’s also got all the buns, and what feels like a hundred different condiments and salad options. Through tears, Mikan apologises for the trouble she’s causing while trying to pay for whatever bottle she broke – while at the same time picking up enough hangover medicine to cure an army.

By the time he’s rung everybody up, he’s exhausted. He wants to go to bed and never get out of it, to never see anybody again. He hates customers at the best of times, and these people might be excellent outside of this setting, but in his store they’ve been an absolute nightmare.

They’re all packed up and ready to go when the girl with her nose in the video game pipes up.

“Hey, where’s Nagito?” She asks through a yawn.

Then, it happens. Hajime hears a “whoops” from the back end of the store, and everything he’s ever wanted to not happen on his shift happens.

One shelving unit goes down, then another, then another. The sounds of shattering and splintering echo through the now otherwise silent store. They go down like dominos, each falling shelf worse than the last. It’s five fifty-seven in the morning, and Hajime can only watch as his divine punishment for choosing to work in a grocery store near a college is shown to him. Bottles are smashing, toys are crushed, he’s pretty sure that whatever happens in the fish section is no longer safe to look at with the naked human eye.

“I’ve never thought about committing murder before,” He says, “But now I think I understand.”

Everybody is quiet until the dust settles. The white-haired demon walks out completely unscathed, with an innocently shit-eating grin on his face.

“Ah, I can pay for this. I’m so sorry to have caused such trouble,” He says, waving his hands like it’s no big deal, “Please, allow me to pay for the damages. My terrible luck is a scourge on this Earth, I simply can’t apologise enough.”

Hajime sighs, and looks at the clock. It’s five fifty-nine. There isn’t an enough money in the world to pay him to deal with this.

“What the fuck happened?” Baby Gangsta asks, from the back of the crowd, “Seriously, you’ve had some bad fuckin’ luck before, but this shit takes the crappy cake.”

“Oh. I tripped.” He dusts his knees off, and smiles again.

It’s unnerving that he’s so calm about this. Hajime dreads to think what else he’s done in the past that would make this seem so natural to him. Can you bar somebody from your store for accidentally wrecking every single item that you have to sell?

“There is some hope to come from this, Kuzuryu, don’t worry!” He pulls out a tiny stuffed dog from his pocket, “Please, how much will this be?”

All Hajime can do is stare. He isn’t sure what god he pissed off to deserve this. He doesn’t believe in karma, but he hopes that whatever he gets in return for this is pretty damn good.

Six in the morning rolls around. The day-staff have walked in to the mess that is the store, and his manager is just staring at him. Hajime looks at him, and just shakes his head.

“If you want the story, talk to the guy with the white hair. I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.”

Immediately after he says that, he hears a whoosh. Then, everything starts feeling a whole lot warmer.

“Shit, store’s on fire. Komaeda, you’re going to get us banned from this store!” Kazuichi yells, running as fast as he can to the exit.

The others follow, and Hajime gives his manager a “what-can-ya-do” shrug, before following. This store isn’t worth getting a lungful of smoke over. Hell, he isn’t even sure working here is worth the extra cash that Sonia seems adamant to give him every time she comes in.

Sixteen students, Hajime, four other co-workers, two cleaners, and a General Manager stare as the building burns. Before his manager can open his mouth to speak, Hajime looks at him and says, “Nope. I quit. I’m leaving. Now. This isn’t my fault, and you can’t pay me enough to deal with it.”

There’s no argument. His manager just lets him go. The sixteen students get a lifetime ban. Hajime also gets a lifetime ban. The white-haired devil writes a check and walks away basically scot-free. The store is going to be closed for the next fuck-knows how long until it can get repaired. From the number of zeroes on that check, Hajime’s pretty sure this is an expensive problem to fix. He doesn’t care, it isn’t his problem.

“Hey, Mr-Store-Clerk Guy!” Ibuki grins at him, “Wanna come and party with Hope’s Peak? We just got done with finals!”

“Ibuki, that’s a fantastic idea! To repay our debt to him for causing so much trouble, we simply must invite him to part-ay with us!” Sonia claps her hands together and smiles like Ibuki’s just discovered Atlantis, “Please do come with us! But first, might we get your name? We all see you so often, and have never thought to ask!”

It’s six in the morning. Hajime rubs his temples. Any sane person would say no, because he’s tired and just quit his job so he’s going to need to find another one as soon as possible, and having a store burn down on your watch is not good on your resume.

It’s six in the morning, and if there’s any day that Hajime wants to start drinking at ass-o-clock in the morning and not on his dime, it’s this one.

“I’m Hajime Hinata. Please don’t burn anything else down.”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Nagito calls from where he’s standing by the manager, “I’m sure that after that I’ll have some incredibly good luck!”

[joachimnapoleon]

Why did Murat and Eugène hate each other? I didn't even know that they did until the recent posts.

This was actually the subject of a discussion I had recently with a friend of mine whose interest in Eugène is on par with my interest in Murat; and even though I haven't studied Eugène in great depth yet myself, we ended up drawing some pretty similar conclusions/opinions about their relationship based on what we knew about each of them. And we both agreed that "hatred" is probably too strong a word to describe their feelings about each other. I would say that Murat's feelings about Eugène were essentially a dislike borne out of envy. Eugène's feelings about Murat are a bit harder to precisely pin down. During the earlier years of their relationship--after he becomes aware of Murat's dislike for him--it strikes me as the sort of bewildered, defensive dislike you might develop for someone whom you've discovered dislikes you, without you fully understanding what you've done to merit their dislike. Later in their relationship, I think it evolves into a certain amount of contempt on Eugène's part, especially after the way Murat hastily leaves the army in January 1813 and then all the ensuing political drama and Murat's not-so-subtle negotiations with Austria throughout most of the rest of the year.

There's no indication I've come across of any immediate dislike between the two of them. I can't be sure when exactly the two of them met, but at the very least they would've been around each other in Egypt when teenage Eugène was serving as one of Napoleon's aides-de-camp. Their relationship doesn't seem to have taken a bad turn until the early 1800s. After Murat marries Caroline and becomes tied to the Bonaparte family, both he and Caroline (and the other Bonaparte siblings) grow increasingly resentful over the favor being shown towards Josephine's children by Napoleon. Here's an excerpt on the subject from Hortense's memoirs:

The Emperor, although he did not mean to do so, had done everything possible to inflame the jealousy his family felt toward us. He had for a long time treated me with special favor, because as he desired to adopt the son he wished the mother to be especially respected. How many times Caroline came and said to me: "I entertain the same way you do; I always act as you do, because I come and ask in advance how you are going to act; and yet the Emperor always holds you up to me as an example as though you were the only person who knows how to behave. Then too he is all the time saying to Murat and his [Napoleon's] brothers, ‘Look at Eugène.' How can he expect harmony to reign among us?"

Hortense writes also that "Murat would not suffer a younger man to take precedence at court over him. He broke his sword on hearing the news that the Emperor had adopted my brother."

The formal adoption of Eugène by Napoleon took place in January of 1806. Six months prior to that came something that had infuriated Murat just as much: Napoleon naming Eugène Viceroy of Italy. In the aftermath of learning of this, Murat sulked, and dragged his heels when it came to writing to congratulate Eugène on his new title. The exchange between them is a comical read. Murat claims he assumed a letter he'd written back in April--two months before Eugène's promotion to Viceroy--would somehow suffice to express his goodwill towards Eugène, and that he didn't feel he was obligated to write a new one since he'd learned of Eugène's promotion via the gazettes and not directly from Eugène himself. Murat writes that his feelings are hurt. Eugène replies that his feelings were hurt by Murat's silence and that, even if he'd learned of Murat getting a nice promotion through the newspapers himself, he would've still hurried to write to congratulate Murat. (The letters are posted at the end in their entirety for your reading pleasure.)

Murat's dynamic with Eugène is... not what you might expect, given that there was a fourteen-year age difference. And that, in my opinion (and my friend who studies Eugène concurs with me on this), has a hell of a lot to do not only with the personalities of each one, but also with each of their relationships with Napoleon. Eugène, of course, lost his his father during the Reign of Terror, when he was still a child. Throughout his life, when he gains an attachment to an older man, he tends to look to that older man as a father figure--from Hoche to Napoleon to his father-in-law King Maximillian of Bavaria., and even Marshal MacDonald. Ney, who was particularly close to him, names one of his own sons after Eugène. Eugène's biographer Kerautret concludes that Eugène spent most of his life as the eternal "fils," or as my friend sums it up, "The boy. Always looking for a father figure (and inspiring in most men the immediate urge to go all paternal over him), always searching for someone to look up to, to dedicate himself to, for someone whose appreciation he wants to win and to whom he wants to prove his worth." Eugène does not have this dynamic with Murat, and Murat, who was as paternal a figure as it gets, does not seem to have exhibited the slightest desire to have this sort of relationship with Eugène. Their relationship comes across more like a sibling rivalry than anything, even in spite of the large age difference. Maximillian even remarked to his son Ludwig at one point in 1810 that "The Viceroy and the King of Naples cannot suffer each other... but when together they tutoyer each other and to see them together one would think them the best of friends." Basically there had to be a hell of a lot of disingenuousness going on in their relationship, especially by 1810, since it was supposedly Eugène who had intercepted and forwarded letters to Napoleon implicating Murat in the Talleyrand/Fouché scheme to make Murat Napoleon's successor in the event that the Emperor died without an heir.

Now, as for how their mutual relationship to Napoleon related to their own relationship. Obviously Eugène looked at Napoleon as a father figure. But I've personally come to believe that, at least to some extent, Murat did too--Murat's being two years older than Napoleon notwithstanding. In numerous letters to Napoleon he refers to himself as "your pupil" and "your child"; in an anguished letter in 1810 he refers to Napoleon having "cherished" him "like a father, like my benefactor." And Napoleon very much tended to view himself as a father-figure over his subordinates. I can't help but look at Murat's relationship with Napoleon and think that Murat came to view Eugène as a sort of usurper in a way, as he grew closer to Napoleon and Napoleon heaped more favors and affection on him (and especially as Murat's relationship with Napoleon, by contrast, grew increasingly worse over the years, especially from 1809 on). So I think a certain amount of Murat's dislike for Eugène--most of it, in fact--was from this feeling of having been spurned by the man he revered, for a younger man whom Murat simply didn't feel deserved these proofs of trust and affection more than he did.

By the 1812 campaign Eugène was aware enough of Murat's dislike for him that he practically begs Napoleon to let him return to Italy rather than be placed under Murat's direct command. This is after Napoleon gives the command of the army to Murat because he knows perfectly well that Murat absolutely, beyond a shadow of doubt would've pulled a Jérôme and taken his ball and gone home if he had been placed under Eugène's command. Napoleon prevails upon Eugène to stick around, which was good in the long run, because Murat was not the man to handle a disintegrating army at the end of a disastrous campaign when he was already in a state of total demoralization anyway.

So yeah, by the time Murat's negotiations with Austria began in 1813, and he found himself corresponding back and forth with Eugène and, by early 1814, having to take the field against him after his defection, their relationship had long since deteriorated, and Murat's defection undoubtedly further reduced his standing in Eugène's eyes. That being said, Eugène was not completely without sympathy. In response to an agonized letter from Murat in early February, as Murat was staring the prospect of taking up arms against his country in the face, Eugène wrote the following reply:

I perceived by Your Majesty's letter, and especially by the few words added in your own writing, how much distressed you are by the situation in which you find yourself. These conflicts which arise in your heart do not astonish me; they filled me rather with a feeling of deep tenderness in reading them. It is impossible, in fact, that Your Majesty could contemplate without sadness the thought of seeing Frenchmen enemies to Frenchmen, who have always considered themselves honoured in counting them as fellow-citizens! I pray Your Majesty to listen to the promptings of your heart, and to reject the counsel which will result in nothing but bitter regrets for you. The Emperor has left Paris. In a few days the time of danger, or at least uncertainty, will be passed, and Your Majesty will find politics accord with the sentiments of your heart. [4 February 1814]

Unfortunately Murat's new allies did end up strong-arming him into taking the field against Eugène, and the rest is history. If Eugène left behind any remarks regarding Murat's tragic end, I have yet to come across it; nor has my friend who has spent a great deal more time going through his correspondence. It's a shame Eugène didn't leave behind any memoirs, which might have given us a better idea of his feelings regarding Murat. I've tried to piece it together as best as I can from what I know so far.

Thanks for the ask!

(Here are the full letters between Murat and Eugène that I mentioned above. These are from Volume 3 of Lettres et documents pour servir l’histoire de Joachim Murat)

***

Murat to Eugène 17 July 1805

To H.I.H. the Prince Eugène, Viceroy of Italy

I have been informed, my dear Prince, that you have deigned to notice that I was a bit late in responding to the letter that you'd done me the honor of writing me upon my nomination to the dignity of Grand Admiral. May it be permitted to me to tell Y(our) S(erene) H(ighness) that I had thought myself able to dispense with replying to it, being able to take your letter myself for an answer to that which I had the honor to write to you through Madame Ruga. It contained sincere compliments on your promotion to the dignity of Arch-Chancellor of State, and recommendations for that beauty; purely a formal recommendation, would a pretty woman ever have need of one with you?

I sincerely applauded the choice that H(is) M(ajesty) made of Y(our) H(ighness) for Viceroy of Italy; I did not speak of it to you, having only learned about it through the gazettes. I had thought that the unequivocal feelings that I have always manifested for you, would have earned me a communication of this memorable circumstance of your career. Your silence has affected me, I was sensitive to such a reserve, and I must be sure of finding this Eugène good and sensitive, to determine myself to complain to him about himself.

Now, my dear Prince, I pray you to receive my congratulations; they are sincere since I am addressing them to you. Make the attractive country that you have been called to govern happy, I will always applaud your success and its happiness.

I pray Y(our) S(erene) H(ighness) to accept the assurance of my high consideration and my attachment.

***

Eugène to Murat Milan, 28 July 1805

If Your Serene Highness was told that I had complained about the silence he had kept with me on the occasion of the new testimony of tenderness and kindness that I received from His Majesty, he was deceived. If I would have complained, it would be to Your Serene Highness himself that I would have addressed my complaints.

But if Your Highness was told that I was afflicted by his silence, he was told the truth. I admit to you, in this circumstance where I received from all parts congratulations that no letter of mine had provoked, it pained me to not find your name in the midst of all those who renewed to me their testimonies and expressions of attachment.

You thought I should have informed you of His Majesty's act myself... I thank you for explaining to me the reason of your reserve. I have no right to complain, but deep down does Your Highness think that if all the favors he deserved, and which I wish for him, were to arrive for him, it would not suffice for me to have learned of them from the Journal officiel, to hasten to tell him how happy I was for him?

If Your Highness does not share my opinion in this regard, I hope at least that he will find in the frankess with which I expose it, further proof of the importance I attach to having no injury towards him.

Now that I have said all that I have believed necessary to my justification, receive, I pray you, all my thanks for the new expressions of friendship that I find with so much pleasure in your last letter. Your Serene Highness will do me the justice of believing that I respond to the sincerity of his sentiments by all the sincerity of mine.

Will H(er) I(imperial) H(ighness) the Princess Caroline kindly receive my respectful homage the the assurance of my distinguished sentiments?

--Prince Eugène

***

[drarrystan22]

You guys this one took a life of it’s own, im sorry it came out so long, i didn’t wanna have to make another part.

well, without further ado, here’s the last part of this marvelous little story for the ever so kind @drarrymicrofic, prompt: Harry in winter ( i absolutely LOVED the song prompt by the way). Hope you enjoy it!

here’s part 5 in case you missed it

-

It was a cold winter day, and a blond graceful creature sat by the piano, playing a slow Christmas carol, his long pale fingers gently hitting the notes, a warm little smile resting on his lips wile he watched Harry struggle to hold a squirming Teddy on his lap. The morning light shone through the window lightning up Draco’s face, and suddenly Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of him. There was no way in hell that man was real, there was no way in hell he was Harry’s. A warm feeling quickly spread on his belly, and even little Teddy seemed to put a hold on his toddler writhing to watch that mesmerizing being.

Harry woke up to a lingering sense of warmth throughout his body. Hermione was calling his name from the other side of the door.

It took him a few good minutes to remember that the memory his brain turned into a dream was only that, a memory. His heart ached with yearning and he pushed the duvet aside, ignoring the feeling.

“Already awake, Mione, i’ll be down in a minute” Harry forced his body out of the bed, grabbing his glasses and clumsily putting it on his face.

The house was already awake and moving on full speed when he managed to step out of Ron’s old room. The hallway smelled of Molly Wasley’s special pumpkin pie, and Harry’s stomach growled loudly. He stepped foot into the kitchen and was lovingly greeted with a tight hug and several kisses from Fleur.

“Oh i’m just so happy you are going to spend Christmas with family this year! It’s been too long Harry.” Molly gently tapped on his cheek, and he smiled fondly at her “It’s torture you know, having all of my children scattered around the world like bloody ducks on a lake” She turns back to the stove and hands Harry a very full plate pf breakfast.

“Thanks, Molly” he mutters and leaves the kitchen.

The backyard is full of redheads, and each one of them greets him with slaps on the back, hugs and quick peaks on the cheek. He settles in the mess, relishing the feeling of family, wile excitedly discussing the new shop Fred and George plan on opening up at Hogsmeade. Ron is beaming, chatting with Percy about his promotion to Head Auror wile holding a sleeping Hugo in his arms. Charlie, Bill, Rose and Ginny are up on the air, chasing each other around in their brooms, racing to the fence and back. Arthur and Hermione are seated on a wood bench, in the middle of the mess, calmly catching up.

The day goes by as a blur, and before Harry knows, he’s sitting by the fireplace in the living room, side by side with Hermione, telling her all about Scorpius Malfoy and his Christmas gift.

He hadn’t been able to keep his mind off Draco all day, and talking about it with her seemed like the best option, as always, but watching his best friend’s face contort into a frown as he progressed with the story was not helping at all.

“Fuck Harry, I really wish you had told me that sooner” she whispered, a hushed despair running on her voice as she. chewed the inside of her cheek. “Because i’ve done something that is bound to end up badly.”

-

And there was it. The blonde creature was crossing the living room and Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

Of course he knew things were bound to go sideways, but seeing him, actually seeing him, not just a quick glimpse across the platform, that was all kinds of really fucking difficult.

Hermione had invited the Malfoys over for Christmas. Rose and Scorpius had grown attached by the hip and apparently could not spend two full weeks without each other. Since it had been eleven bloody years, she thought there would be no harm done.

The Weasleys were quick to Welcome Draco and Astoria into The Burrow. They loved Draco, always had ever since he saved Fred’s life during the battle, and quite honestly Harry was really pleased to watch them interact. Draco needed a second family, losing Narcissa took a toll on him, and Lucius had never been family to begin with.

Harry’s blood stopped in his veins as Draco approached, the slightest of grins up on his lips, looking as perfectly beautiful as ever and that was exactly the moment The Golden Boy knew he didn’t have the stomach to face this situation. His hands froze at his side’s and a shiver crawled up his spine as he stared down at the floor.

“Hi, Harry, it’s been a while” Draco’s voice tickled his heart, and Harry lifted his gaze to meet cloudy gray ones, filled with pain.

“Yeah, a while.” He agrees, and the sudden urge to touch Draco flooded him. His fingers moved slightly, raising to meet the pale skin, but before anyone could notice just what he was doing, a wonderful little sound of pure blissful joy filled the room, and Scorpius was throwing himself on Harry’s lap.

“Professor! Dad told me you’d be here! We bought you a gift!” Harry hugged back and turned his amused stare to Draco.

His delicate face was contorted into aa vulnerable expression that Harry couldn’t quite place, his eyebrows stitched together on a frown and his lips locked in a thin line, and then just as fast as it came it went away, and Draco put on once again the solid emotionless grin. Harry recalled seeing that quick exact combination of features in Draco’s face only once before, on top of the Astronomy tower, moments away from taking a life. Pain. Pure and striking pain. Realization hits him like a truck as he slowly lets go of Scorpius, realizing just what he was doing.

Brilliant, Harry. Rubbing it in. Showing him just what it could have been. Oh, Merlin i’m such a moron.

Harry desperately wants to kiss the pain away from his mirror eyes, he wants to take his hands and hold his body, to shield him from any possible harm. It almost felt like he was 17 all over again, falling madly in love with his former nemesis, his best friend, and the sensation sparks courage inside his heart, a little seed of untamed bravery that led him back to Ron’s old room, into the pocket of his dirty robes.

As soon as everyone is comfortable and chatting care-freely, Harry slips away into the pile of neatly folded and not-dirty-enough-to-wash clothes by his temporary bed. His hands find the note, and he ads another line to the letter, two more words that could quite possibly change the world.

Draco is sitting across from Ron when he returns, playing chess. They were talking, but Draco wasn’t really paying attention, his eyes were searching without permission for a glimpse of green eyes filled with guilt. He couldn’t help himself, it had always been that way, he had always been looking for Harry, even when he didn’t quite understand what that meant.

“You lost, again” Ron’s voice was content, relishing in victory

“You know very well I was going easy on you, Wesel” To be perfectly honest, Draco was not even trying to beat him, he was to busy watching Harry cross the room on his direction, holding a piece of paper too familiar to be unrelated. He had a purposeful look on his face, and with nothing but a smile he handed Draco the letter before crossing the room to sit by Rose and Scorpius. Ron looked puzzled, eyebrows almost meeting his hair line and Draco, not wanting to cause a scene, put the letter into his back pocket, praying that, whatever it was, it could wait.

-

Molly strode inside the living room, and announced dinner, guiding her children to the backyard where a huge table had been arranged to accommodate everyone. In groups, they all left the house, but Draco stayed behind, clutching the paper in his fingers and aching to read it.

When he finally got alone, he unfolded the parchment, recognizing instantly his own handwriting. His heat dropped.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

How in bloody hell was Harry in possession of that embarrassing thing was beyond his understanding. It had been careless, of course. Drunken letter-writing was never a good idea, but Draco didn’t remember actually sending it. It had been written back in October, and Draco could not possibly had been dumb enough to actually send it. Absolutely mortified, he devoured every line, realizing that in the bottom of the papal there was a new addition, fresh ink. Two new words. A world of new-old possibilities. Hope.

Do over?

[haro-whumps]

Box Boy Order Form

(Inspired by @shameless-whumper and @sweetwhumpandhellacomf

CW: slavery, brainwashing, dehumanization, implied noncon)

Ren knew, Ren knew that the reason companies sent out free products to popular youtubers was to get fans to buy said products. Ren knew that. And they absolutely hated that it was working. They loved Host, they’d been an avid follower since well before Colton had entered the picture, but nooooow. 

Ugh.

It wasn’t like they couldn’t. Ren was a real momma’s-child, and had the vast depths of her pockets at their disposal, plus the job they’d inherited--pardon, utilized their connections in order to acquire--paid well. And the way Host played with Colton, it just looked so… terribly fun.

So here Ren was, staring down a couple different websites, filtering their searches and scrolling through half-mindlessly, @just-horrible-things‘ unboxing video playing as a quiet form of background noise. Ren had been consuming all sorts of Box Boy unboxing videos ever since Host had done it, and it just made the itch of want worse and worse.

They almost scrolled past him.

It was the hair, hilariously enough, that made them double take, scrolling back up so the top half was re-exposed on their screen, and then they just stared, disbelieving, for a long moment, eyes locked on the image. That was Soren. Ren clicked on the thumbnail and clicked through the pictures, zooming in on the birthmark on his jaw. That was definitely Soren.

Sweet Soren, gentle Soren, darling precious Soren who’d had a hard time of it when they were teenagers. Soren had always been so nice to everyone he met, with the most beautiful long hair, a sort of dusty gold, and heavy freckles. He’d never been proud, either, he’d never called the nice things Ren did for him charity or rejected their generosity like those other washed-up, penniless nobodies. Soren had always been grateful and thankful and sweet.

Ren had tried, really really tried, back when they were teens, but they’d been fumbling, their efforts graceless and new. They’d tried their hand at manipulating Soren, but it never seemed to stick. He’d put up with Ren’s gentle teasing and playful roughhousing, but always called Ren out whenever he felt they’d pushed too far, and trying to guilt him with how nice they’d otherwise been never worked. He’d been… too secure. Poor and a little underfed, but still confident that he’d have a warm home to go back to that night with a nice family, nice like him. Ren had never gotten him eating out of their palm like the brown-nosers and the toads. And when Ren had blown their lid when he cut his hair, he’d cut them off. 

Oh, but Soren wasn’t so secure now, was he? He, ha, he wouldn’t even remember who Ren was! Oh that was perfect! A second chance. But this time, he’d love them the way they deserved, he would adore them, them exclusively. He’d grow his hair out as long as they wanted him to, nothing like the short and charming mockery staring up at them from the promotional photographs. 

They put their name and credit card down on his profile the moment they stopped being shocked by that cute little birthmark, and went into the customization options.

“You don’t get to reject me this time…” Ren muttered to themself, indicating that they wanted the processors to make him grow his hair out nice and long. They probably had products that promoted hair-growth?

I’d like it if you could make him, I guess touch-starved is a good word? Clingy? Needy! Needy’s the word. I want him hanging off of me. Sweet and doe-eyed, yeah?

They opened each photograph in a new tab, and saved them to their computer. They didn’t hit buy just yet, didn’t want to send off the customization requests before they’d had a chance to specify everything.

Eager and accommodating would also be nice, though I’m sure I can train that myself if you feel like that’s going to take up too much time. But then again, I’m not exactly in a rush.

It was true, Ren hadn’t seen sweet Soren in years, but they weren’t in any hurry. They wanted this to be perfect. They pulled up Host’s unboxing video with little fawnish Colton, who didn’t even have his name yet in that one. They’d seen it a dozen times, but now they were watching it like it was a rehearsal. Soon, they’d be doing this with Soren, and he would be their Soren.

They weren’t a youtuber, personally, but Ren thought about all the unboxing videos they’d been watching and decided to order a high quality camera while they were in a spending mood. They wanted to immortalize the moments when Soren first came to them. Ren also searched for subtle “elf on the shelf” type nannycams, but discreet. They didn’t actually want Soren to know that they were recording him, that they’d be saving the footage, watching his every move, keeping it like a dragon with its hoard. They found some cute decorative pieces, the camera holes so small or seamlessly integrated into the design that Soren would never know. Plus the items themselves were cute. Ren had been thinking of adding some more decoration to their home, anyway. They hit order.

I know you keep yourselves to stringent standards of ethics, and I of course would never doubt that. But if you feel like you need to, I won’t mind if you rough him up a little during training. It might make him even more grateful to be owned by me, haha! Don’t tell him I said that though ;)

The playlist automatically went to “First day with my box boy” and Ren watched it, nerves alight. They watched Host strike Colton, their own breath catching and a pleasant little shiver crawling up their spine, imagining doing that to Soren. They would be doing that to Soren, soon. They wondered what number Soren would have, but discarded the thought. It would never matter.

Could you also please make sure he doesn’t remember his old name, at all? I know sometimes your pretty box boys have foggy memories, at least the quick turnarounds do, but I would like mine to be as blank as possible.

Host went over the positions with Colton, and Ren’s mouth watered. They’d get a whole booklet of positions they could just say and Soren would do them. When Ren told Soren position twenty-three, would he flush and hesitate? Would he smile and duck his head, loose lock of hair falling over his left eye, like how he used to do when Ren bought him roasted almonds or offered to share their fleece when it got unexpectedly cold out?

What had happened to Soren? Sure, he’d never been well-off, but it was hard to imagine life getting so hard for sweet, precious Soren that he would sign himself over to who-knew-what. He could’ve always come crawling back to Ren! They would have forgiven him for acting unreasonable, just because they got mad. He could’ve been their pet and kept his memories, if he’d only asked.

Well, too bad, Soren. He was a pet now, and people that used to know him knew. One person specifically, knew, and now, he would be theirs.

Submit order.

They grinned, and clicked.

Next

[artificialqueens]

Praise Me Up (Gigi x Nicky) - moonshot

A/N: moonshot here! thank you for the anon who suggested the gigi/nicky rivarly prompt! I had so much fun writing this, basically 4.1k words of Nicky driving Gigi insane while some of the season 12 (and some special guests) are in for the ride! Please feel free to let me know what you think of it! - moonshot

 Gigi knew she was the perfect candidate for the promotion. That was until she found out Nicky Doll, the infuriatingly stunning model-tier beauty from the French branch of the company and recently had moved to NYC, was also being considered for said promotion.

-

Gigi knew she was the perfect candidate for the promotion. That was until she found out Nicky Doll, the infuriatingly stunning model-tier beauty from the French branch of the company and recently had moved to NYC, was also being considered for said promotion.

At first, she wasn’t bothered at all when Nicky came to the office permanently. One could say she was almost excited to have someone else so verse in high fashion, as the older blonde had worked for the lengths of Vogue Paris. Gigi had always thought that the foreign woman would bring an added layer to their already impressive fashion editorial.

That was until Gigi realized how much alike they really were, flaws and all.

And the realization came pretty much during the first time she was officially introduced to Nicolette Doll .

The American blonde was well known around her office for being an avid make-up enthusiast thanks to her former job as a make-up artist prior to joining Needles & Co., arguably the most notable fashion editorial in the nation, the year before, so it was almost a given that her colleagues would ask her for advice, especially Heidi from the Closet.

Cue to her blonde wannabe-Broadway star Jan calling Gigi over to her desk to ask for advice for a special night out with her girlfriend.

“Gigiiii, you have to help me! I don’t know which lipstick to match with my eye look for tonight! It’s Jackie and mine’s anniversary, I can’t do my usual nude lip, I want something more… fancy?” The New Jersey woman pouted, half whispering not to have said girlfriend hear the conversation from the desk booth down the row.

“What’s the eye makeup you’re going with? The usual purple, lilac moment?”

Jan nodded, “Yeah, you know me. Do you have something in mind that could work with that?”

Gigi stood quiet for a moment, her mind running through all the various possible combinations, “Well, I would go with a-”

She was interrupted by a sultry accented voice, “I’d suggest a dark nude color with some coral undertones, I got one from MAC, it’s called Stone, I can let you borrow it if you want”.

The long-haired blonde squealed in joy, “Oh my god, that would be great, Nicky. You’re a lifesaver!”

The fashionista turned around to see who was the supposed ‘live saver’. She was met with the brightest icy blue eyes she had ever seen, framed by an impeccable soft smokey eye. A pair of pouty lips accentuated by a fiery red lipstick smiled at her in an almost mischievous way. Short blonde hair, perfectly styled, completed the editorial worthy look.

“I don’t believe we have met before,” she extended her hand, covered by a sheer black glove, “Nicolette Doll,” the French woman squared off Gigi’s slender figure from head to toe, “you can call me Nicky. I got transferred here last week. Genevive Goode, I suppose? I heard a lot about you from the others”.

Gigi shook her hand firmly, a fake smile on her face, how much she hated when people used her first full name, “Yeah, that would be me. Gigi is fine. If I’m not mistaken you have worked for Vogue Paris, right?”

“You’d be correct, it’s thanks to Miss Chachki’s kind words on my behalf that I was able to get a position in this editorial. I’m sure you’ve heard of her”.

Of course , Gigi had heard of the legendary Violet Chachki, her idol ever since she had found her passion for fashion.

“I sure have,” the younger woman didn’t let any of her inner discontent come through on her face as she continued to speak, “well, I hope you are finding our office to your liking”.

Nicky smiled back, a glimpse of something Gigi couldn’t quite understand in her gaze, “So far I’m liking what I’m seeing, chérie,” she commented, quickly turning to Jan to let her know to remember to give her the lipstick before her attention went back to the blonde in front of her,  “I can’t wait to work with you, miss Goode”.

“Likewise,” Gigi simply replied as she watched the French woman walk down the room to what she assumed was her new desk.

She was definitely not looking forward to working with Nicky.

As the months went by, what was driving Gigi insane was the fact that, besides herself, everyone seemingly beamed after the French beauty.

Jan - and Jackie by proxy - had already gone out multiple times to the karaoke bar down the street from their office with the blonde woman, only to have them talk about it the following day while they sipped on their steaming cups of coffee. Gigi had learned that Nicky was not only gorgeous but also a phenomenal singer because of course, she was.

The older blonde had become Jaida’s, her desk neighbor, go-to party girl for the free drinks Friday nights at the local queer club. A position that use to be Gigi ’s. Granted that the dark-skinned beauty still asked her to come out with them but never in a million years the young fashionista was going to get caught going to the club when Nicky was also involved.

Hell, even her own best friend, Crystal, had grown fond of the foreign woman, much to Gigi’s displeasure.

“Oh, c’mon! She isn’t that bad at all! She actually complimented my makeup!” She proclaimed excitedly, twirling a long strand of her brown mullet around her index finger.

Gigi looked up from the stylized drawing of her latest dress idea with furrowed brows, “Crystal, she said you look pretty for someone who paints like a clown ”.

The brown-haired woman’s expression didn’t change, if anything, her smile had just gotten bigger, “Still, she said I’m pretty!”

“Ugh!” the blonde went back to her drawing, mindlessly filling in the drawing.

“Honestly, Gi… you should give her a chance. You two have a lot in common!”

“That’s the problem! It’s basically like looking at a copy of me! I bet you that if I shaved my head, she would come in the next day sporting a bald head and call it being avant-garde!”

Jaida butted into the conversation, having just come back from the bathroom, “Girl, don’t you dare go bald. That Halloween look as that damn robot still haunts my nightmares,” she added from behind the sitting blonde before taking a closer look at Gigi’s drawing, and chuckled, “Nice drawing of Frenchie”.

“What?” The young blonde looked down at her drawing, this time paying attention to what she had drawn. It did look an awful lot like a stylized version of Nicky.

“Fuck!” She whined out, quickly crumpling the drawing and tossing it to the other side of the office.

It was as if the universe was against her when the piece of paper landed just in front of Nicky as she walked into the room. She bent over and picked it up, quietly examining the drawing. She swayed her hips as she walked towards the trio, a smirk on her face.

“Chérie, if you wanted me to model for you, you could have just asked,” she said with a wink before walking to her desk, prompting a laugh from Gigi’s two close friends.

The fashionista groaned loudly, a blushing creeping on her, “I hate everyone!”

Thinking back to the day when Miss Needles called into her private office on the 12th floor, Gigi knew something was up when she was forced to share the elevator with Nicky on the way up. She was tempted to close the door on the older woman but she had been too slow. What a pity.

“Which floor?”

“12th”.

Gigi tensed her jaw for a moment as she pushed the button before resting her back on the wall. The ride was awkwardly silent, neither of them thrilled to strike up a conversation as they went up.

“ Toi t'es bon qu'à planer, ouais je sens t'as l'seum, j'ai l'avocat ”.

The older blonde has seemingly had enough of the silence as she quietly sang in what Gigi assumed was French. She would never admit Nicky’s singing was actually as good as Jan had boasted her to be.

“ Entre nous y'a un fossé, toi t'es bon qu'à faire la mala ,” the French ran a hand in her short blonde hair, eyes closed as she waited, that smirk Gigi detested flashing on her lips.

Before Gigi could say anything, the familiar sound of the elevator doors opening filled the small space. Nicky gestured to her to go out first, “After you, chéri”.

The younger blonde scoffed, quickly exiting the elevator and making her way to the door of her boss’ office, not waiting for the older woman.

She gently knocked three times and waited for a reply.

“Come in”

How she was tempted to close the door on Nicky’s face, again.

Gigi entered the office to find Miss Needles standing up, looking out the window to the New York skyline. The statuesque woman turned around with a bright smile on her face that surely contrasted with the intense sharp makeup she was wearing.

Working for Aquaria Needles had been a pleasant surprise for the young fashionista. She was a little over a year older than Gigi and yet, at 24, after working in her teen years as a runway model, she had already taken over her mother’s role as editor in chief while the matriarch of the Needles family had decided to step down from the spotlight for a while.

Gigi had gathered quite the respect for Aquaria, who was truly a 180° from her stoic, almost spook-inducing mother, Sharon. However, she knew not to get on her bad side as she was still a Needles, after all.

“Oh! You’re both here already, that makes my job much easier as I can explain myself just once,” she started as she sat down in the expensive-looking faux leather chair, “please take a seat, we have a lot to discuss here!”

The two fashion queens of the office sat down, keeping their bodies as far from each other as possible, neither really trying to hide their discontent for each other.

“So, as both of you know, May is coming up and so is our annual special issue for the Met Gala. Now, I’ve been keeping an eye on both of you as you two are our best designers,” Aquaria continued, her bright blue eyes staring intently to the two women sitting in front of her, “Miss Hytes-Mateo has recently announced that she is transferring to our branch in LA in a couple of months time, which means the position of creative director will need to be filled up”.

Gigi’s eyes widened, which had been the promotion she had been looking up to ever since joining the team as a mere intern two years prior. She had to have that.

“And this is where you two come into play, for the next month leading up to our May issue, I’ll be regularly checking with both you two and Brooke Lynn to determine who is the best candidate for the position once she’s gone. Have I made myself clear?” Aquaria finished up, waiting for a reaction from either of them.

Nicky was the first one to speak up, “It’s an honor to be even considered for such position, Miss Needles”

The editor in chief smiled, her hand waving in front of her, “oh please, you can call me Aquaria, Miss Needles reminds me too much of my mom. Anything you’d like to add, Gigi?”

“I’ll make sure to show you that I’m the perfect candidate for this promotion,” the younger woman replied, she wasn’t going to let that French blonde take her spot.

“If you don’t have any question, I think we can call it a-”

Aquaria was interrupted by the door opening. The two designers turned around to see a short petite woman peeking in the room, her long blonde hair perfectly framing her face.

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss Needles but your mother just called and wanted to remind you that she is expecting you to have lunch with her tomorrow at noon,” the woman said with a soft voice.

Gigi turned back to the editor in chief, not failing to notice the blushing cheeks on the young woman’s face. Everyone around the office knew about Aquaria’s crush for her assistant, Miss Heller (she could still hear Widow’s voice, “It must run in the family! Didn’t her mother meet her current fiancé because the woman worked for her? Miss Thunder, was it?”).

“O-Oh okay, thank you for reminding me… but I told you to call me Aquaria, Brianna”.

“And I told you, as much as I want to, your mother won’t let me, Miss Needles,” she replied playfully before turning her attention to Gigi and Nicky, finally noticing the duo, “oh, sorry for the interruption. Goodbye!”

She closed the door behind her, leaving a quiet Aquaria, staring at the door.

After a minute of silence, Nicky cleared her throat, waking Aquaria up from her own thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah okay work, we are done here! Both of you, enjoy your day. I’ll be sure to let Brooke Lynn know you are ready to start,” the editor excused them, turning her chair around to, once again, stare at the beautiful skyline.

The two designers exited the editor’s office in silence, walking up to the elevator. Gigi nervously tapped her foot as they were descending back to their floor.

As they reached their floor, she felt a hand grab her wrist, “may the best woman win, chérie”

That was the only thing Nicky said before leaving Gigi alone.

She sure planned on winning.

For the following month, if Gigi had thought Nicky was insufferable before, now that they were officially competing against each other, the French woman was downright perfect in everything she did. Nicky with her stupidly gorgeous frame, impeccable style, and sultry voice. And those sheer gloves, those goddamn gloves.

If Gigi did something that earned her praises from Brooke Lynn, there would come Nicky Doll with something that was just that much more innovative, bringing the spotlight on herself. It was driving Gigi insane. The younger blonde was desperate to find something, anything , that she could use against the older woman.

The young blonde sat quietly as she elaborated her next move to bring Nicky down, her close friends chit-chatting next to her.

“Girl, I think y’all two should just fuck it out!”

Gigi rolled her eyes at Jaida’s suggestion for the nth time. Everyone in her friend group had caught onto the fact that she despised the French designer and mercilessly teased her about it.

“Not this again! I don’t like her, Jaida,” she replied with a dead-pan voice.

“Who said anything about liking her? You can cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a goddamn butter knife!” Widow commented with a knowing look, the blonde promptly ignored it.

“Bet 20$ y’all fuck by the end of the month,” Jaida announced, getting a laugh out of the Missouri women.

“I bet 30$ they fuck by the end of the week ,” Widow added, always in to poke fun at the young tall fashionista.

“Oh God! Fuck you both!”

“Chile, girl, save that for Frenchie over there,” the dark-skinned beauty chuckled out.

Gigi simply rolled her eyes again, her attention shifting its focus from the conversation to a particular blonde that was standing across the room from her.

She furrowed her brows. She hadn’t realized that Brooke Lynn had come down to their floor. Nicky was talking to her with a smirk on her face. Something she had told must have been so funny as the Canadian laughed out loud. The French woman touched the taller woman’s arm and it looked like she was… flirting ?

The younger designer inhaled sharply. How dare she?

Gigi quickly got up from her seat, ignoring the confused looks on her colleagues’ faces. She walked over where the two women had been talking, clearing her throat before speaking up.

“ So sorry to interrupt but may I have a word with Miss Doll right now? It’s urgent,” she faked a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, sure. We’re done here anyway. Thank you so much, Nicky. I’ll reserve a table at that restaurant then. Have a good rest of the day you two” The tall Canadian replied before making her way to the elevator.

Gigi didn’t lose any time as she grabbed the older woman’s wrist and walked both of them to the nearest free storage room, closing and locking the door behind her. If they were going to talk, she didn’t want anyone interrupting them.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing? You flirt too now? Is that what they teach you in France?” the young fashionista’s voice fully expressing her anger.

For the first time since they had met, Nicky was speechless and confused, “ Pardon ?”

Gigi scoffed, “Oh, now you play dumb? Do you think I didn’t see you flirting with Brooke Lynn just a minute ago, getting all touchy? Talking about going out to restaurants? Are you that desperate that you’re going to sleep with her for this promotion?” She let out all at once while the short-haired blonde stood in silence.

She had an unreadable expression on her face. She opted not to reply, instead, she slowly took off her gloves, placing them on one of the shelves.

“You are absolutely un-fucking-believable. I wasn’t flirting with her. If you had even just once got out of your head, you would have realized how desperate you sound right now,” she answered calmly, slowly walking up to Gigi, who was in return backing up, “She came up to me to ask for my opinion on which one was the best French restaurant in Manhattan, as she wanted to surprise her wife for their anniversary”.

The younger blonde gulped, suddenly feeling the tie around her neck suffocating. She found herself trapped between the wall next to the door and Nicky’s body, the distinct smell of her Chanel n°5 perfume going straight to Gigi’s head.

The French woman took her tie in her hand, toying with it as she further pressed their bodies together. She slid one of her thighs in between Gigi’s slender legs. The latter can’t help the soft moan that escapes her lips.

“You know what I really think of you, uh?” Nicky put her hand underneath Gigi’s chin, forcing her to look her in the eyes as she spoke, “You’re just a mommy’s girl, wanting to please everybody, having them say how much of a good girl you’ve been, isn’t it right?” The French woman let her hand down the younger girl’s body, reaching the single button on her blazer and unbuttoning it.

Gigi shivered as she felt the cold air hit her bare chest, Nicky’s warm hands making her feel even more the temperature difference.

“That’s why you think you hate me, but, chérie, you’re just scared of me,” she continued, her slender fingers grazing on the erect nubs on her chest while her naked thigh pressed harder against the clothed core, “Scared that someone might be better than you and get that praise you desperately need. You want everyone to think you are this perfect little bitch who is better than everyone else. That facade doesn’t fool me, I see right through it. You still have so much more to learn, you have no idea, chérie”.

The younger woman whimpered as she felt Nicky’s lips press down hard and bite the pulse point on her neck, her knees almost giving out on her if it wasn’t for the older woman’s thigh keeping her in place. The short-haired blonde smirked as she traced the very evident mark she had just left with her tongue, her mouth slowly making her way up to Gigi’s ear.

“That’s for thinking I would sleep with Brooke Lynn for the promotion, salope ” she growled out before biting down on the earlobe. The American gasped loudly, inadvertently jerking her hips forward, causing even more friction between her center, covered by her favorite tailored pants, and Nicky’s thigh. She froze at how good it felt, something she hadn’t felt in months.

The French woman didn’t lose any time in pressing herself harder against Gigi’s body, her mouth ghosting over the younger woman, “Oh, won’t you look at that, uh? Fucking yourself on my thigh? That eager to prove you don’t need my hands,” she pinched one nipple and palmed roughly the other exposed mound, “or my mouth to come?” She taunted her, biting the other woman’s lower lip, “well, then, be my guest, chérie ”.

Gigi moaned as Nicky kissed her roughly, the short-haired woman’s hands never leaving her chest. The younger girl brought her arms around the other designer’s neck as her body started to rock her hips against Nicky, melting under her touch.

“If I knew it only took putting my thigh between your legs to shut your pretty mouth up, I would have done it the first day I came here,” the French woman mocked her as she focused on leaving more marks on Gigi’s pale skin, flushed by the pleasure she was receiving. She felt Nicky’s skirt ride up as she fastened her thrusts against the naked tanned skin.

“F-Fuck you ,” Gigi managed to let out only to be met by a laugh from Nicky.

“Already am, chérie,” she commented, as she left another hickey on Gigi’s sensitive spot on her neck.

As the friction got greater and as she grew hotter, Gigi could start to feel her heat and wetness seep through her pants, wetting Nicky’s skin in return.

“You’re so close, aren’t you? So desperate to come all over my thigh?”

The younger designer was at a loss of words, her heart pounding so loudly as she could feel herself being moments away from her release, she could only nod.

“Well, then, be the good girl you are and come for me. Let them hear how much of a salope you are for me, uh?” Nicky finally whispered in her ear, as she met Gigi’s thrusts.

The American woman gripped tight onto the other woman’s blouse, not caring if she was crumpling the fabric. The intense orgasm washed over her, her legs trembling, her breath hitching as she tried to recover.

Nicky backed off, looking down to the thigh that was now glistening with a light coat of sweat and Gigi’s wetness. She ran two fingers over it before bringing them up to her own mouth, keeping eye contact with a flustered Gigi as she licked them clean.

The younger designer was trying to catch her breath when she saw that same stare she had when they first met in Nicky’s eyes. The older blonde took a longing gaze all over Gigi’s still exposed skin.

She smirked, “À bientôt, chérie”

She took her sheer gloves off the shelf where she had placed them, quickly putting them back on before turning to unlock the door and left.

Gigi blinked a couple of times, trying to register what had just happened. She looked down on her own body, realizing she would have to change after the mess she did.

“ Fuck! ” she muttered before buttoning back up her blazer and making her way to convince Heidi from the Closet to let her change into one of the outfits they kept around for the magazine photoshoots.

She came back to her desk 20 minutes later, trying her best to look as if nothing had happened, which turned out downright impossible as soon as Jaida saw her.

“Hey, what’s with the midday outfit change… wait, is that what I think it is? Oh my god! Y’all did it!” she exclaimed in shock before turning to Crystal, who had walked over, “Damn it! Girl, you were right, they couldn’t last the day”.

The mullet-haired woman rejoiced, “Yay! 50 bucks for me!”

Gigi shot her a look, “Crystal?!? You betted against me too?!”

Her best friend shrugged her shoulders, “What? I need money to save up for the eventual future One Direction reunion because I KNOW it’s real!”

The young designer shook her head, she was never going to see the end of the teasing. She opened one of the desk’s drawers, grabbing her color correction palette and her favorite full coverage concealer.

As she worked her way around her now colorful neck, she looked up to meet Nicky’s icy blue eyes. She scoffed when the French blonde winked at her, however, the smirk on her own face betrayed her.

The American woman crossed her legs. It was just the beginning and Gigi knew it, but now she didn’t mind the competition. If anything, it added some French flavor to the plate.

But first, she had to google what the fuck did ‘salope’ meant.

[hazel-writes]

Summary: A nightmare, a new friend, and an old enemy — your first official day of work gets off to an interesting start.

Notes: This is a dialogue-heavy chapter, sorry!

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: minor canon-typical violence

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

For when your troubles start multiplyin',

And they just might,

It's easy to forget them without tryin'

With just a pocketful of starlight

• Catch a Falling Star - Perry Como •

Panic. Complete and utter panic. You are searching for something, but you can’t seem to find it. You need this thing to survive. Where the kriff is it?!!

A bang. Heavy footsteps. A scream; your scream. You are being dragged away, helpless, no one around to save you.

Eventually you feel your bare feet hit freezing cold ground, but it’s a sinister voice that sounds from above you that chills you to the bone.

You sit up with a start, panting heavily. You hadn’t had a dream like that in a while. This one was scary, but what really terrified you was how strangely familiar it felt. It’s probably just the stress, you thought.

You looked at the clock across the room: 5:13. You were too anxious to go back to sleep and you had to get up in an hour anyways, so you decided to get ready for the day.

You showered, brushed your teeth, and inspected your closet for something to wear. You chose a dark grey tunic with a matching grey skirt that went just below your knees. In typical First Order fashion, you pulled your hair into a tight bun. Looking in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself.

No, this wouldn’t do.

Still feeling a bit rebellious from yesterday's encounter with the injured stormtrooper and General Hux, you decided to leave your hair down like you did on Lothal, two loose braids winding around the sides of your head, the rest of it gently cascading over your shoulders.

Better.

Content with your appearance, you headed straight for the cafeteria. You didn’t recognize most of the food — It all looked like gray mush compared to the vibrant, fresh foods your parents cooked back home.

Lothal was known for its large farm-based economy and culture, something you took immense pride in. Lothalians had fought hard to preserve their land, as it was often victim to exploitation by those with galactic authority. Many times the planet was under imperialist occupation, namely the former Galactic Empire. During those times, the planet was essentially destroyed, its sacred habitats burnt to a crisp. Natural resources were depleted, pollution enveloped the air, and Lothalians were either forced into a life of servitude or were killed. A small group of rebels, called the Spectres, led a resistance effort against the Imperial occupiers, eventually succeeding in driving them out. Since then, relations between Lothal and the First Order were tense, which explained some of General Hux’s disdain towards you. Lothal, however, managed to restore its previous prosperity and you had been lucky enough to grow up in relative peace.

Right now, all you longed for was your favorite fruit, jogan, but it didn’t look like you were going to find it here anytime soon. With a sigh, you settled for the indistinct mush and sat down at a table in the corner.

Since you woke up so early, you were the only one in the cafeteria, but you didn’t mind. You were actually thankful — this meant no more run-ins with stormtroopers, generals, or ridiculously tall men in capes.

After forcing down the last of the mush, you strolled the hallways, attempting to somewhat gain your bearings before your first official day of work. You pulled out the map you had been provided and followed its twists and turns to the yellow dot labeled: Office of Imperial Promotion, Galactic Truth, and Fact Correction.

As you rounded the last corner, you saw a door a dozen feet away which appeared to be guarded by a stormtrooper. This must be it, you thought.

You apprehensively approached the door, willing your feet to move forward with more confidence than they were. As you reached for the handle, you did your best to avoid the trooper’s gaze. Suddenly, he reached his arm out towards you.

Terrified, you stumbled backwards, hitting your head on the wall behind you. The trooper advanced, both arms now outstretched.

You protectively put up your arms as well, attempting to shield your head from any incoming injury — but it never came.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” You heard the trooper say, his hands now raised in surrender. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s me!”

Your hands were shaking as you lowered your arms slightly. You tried to think of any stormtroopers you knew. Not any on the Finalizer, you thought.

“I- I’m sorry. Who are you?” You stuttered.

“Oh, right!” He gestured lazily to his mask. “This ol’ thing.” He sighed and shook his head.

He spoke unlike you’d ever heard a trooper speak before. He sounded kind, normal even! Normal… Something clicked and you started to put the pieces together.

“You - you were the one I found in the hallway!”

You were shocked; you thought for sure you had left him to die. A stab of guilt pierced your heart.

“Yeah, that’s me, good ol' Mr. Concussion!”

“I thought you were... Well, I thought you were going to be-” you started.

“Trust me, I’ve been through much worse.” He shrugged nonchalantly. You paused, looking him over in astonishment and thoughts running wild. What piece of space junk sent him back to work the day after receiving a head injury?

“You should be lying down, or resting, or getting treatment in the med bay, or-”

“Wow," he said. "You sure worry a lot about other people for someone who doesn’t worry enough about themselves.”

“Why do you say that?” you questioned sceptically.

“Well, going through with that stunt yesterday, you not only risked your career for me, a stranger, but you risked your life as well.”

When you didn’t respond, he paused for a second, reaching behind him to reveal the large First Order coat you had used to stop his bleeding the day before. Hux’s coat.

“I take it this isn’t yours?” He asked, knowingly. You imagined a small smirk forming under his helmet.

You responded with a breathy laugh. “No, it most definitely is not. That used to belong to General Hux, but now it’s yours, I suppose.”

His eyes widened in a mix of shock, fear, and a hint of admiration.

“Son of a blaster, how’d you manage that?” He replied.

“Well, I uhh- I just kinda took it from him?”

“You just kinda took it from him?” he repeated, stunned.

“Without his permission…” you continued, quieter this time.

The trooper just stared at you in shock, and you started to feel uncomfortable. Maybe he thought you were crazy. Maybe he would turn you in. Maybe he would bring you to Kylo R-

A laugh bellowed from behind his mask, slightly distorted.

“You!” A laugh. “And Hux, how-” More laughter. “Without his permission-” He could barely get his words out between laughs.

This was the first time you’d heard laughter since arriving on the Finalizer, and you couldn’t help but smile in return. As his laughter mellowed, he sighed and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

“I’m FN-2187.”

FN-2187, you thought. “That’s hardly a name…”

He shrugged. “It’s the one I was given.”

You thought for a second. “Mind if I give you a new one, to be used privately of course,” you clarified.

He looked taken aback, even through the helmet. “Yeah, that would be… okay.”

You paused, thinking. “How about I call you Finn?”

“Finn… Yeah, I like that,” he said. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. My friends back home call me Wren, but it’s probably better you call me by my real name here,” you said, referencing the Finalizer.

He nods, and after telling him your name, you drop his hand. He looks around the hallway before moving a step closer to you.

“In all seriousness, thank you. No one has ever asked for more than my trooper code, and no one ever stops when… you know...,” He trailed off, lowering his gaze, that sadness you sensed from him yesterday having returned.

“Hey,” you reached out and placed a gentle hand on his armored shoulder. “We got each other’s backs now, right? We’ll make it outta here in one piece. Maybe we can steal Hux’s toupee next time.” You winked at him, making him chuckle.

“Ha, yeah, that’d be great,” he replied.

At that moment, the Ginger General himself rounded the corner of the hallway, followed by two obedient stormtroopers.

You started to feel the panic building again. Had he heard what I said? Is he coming to fulfil his promise of my death by trash compactor?

“It’s alright,” Finn reassured. “Follow my lead.”

Kicking Hux’s bloodied jacket behind the door, Finn moved to stand in front of you a few feet. You started to follow him, but he held his arm back, keeping you in place. Finn stood at attention as Hux neared, and you attempted to make yourself as small as possible. You noticed that his coat seemed a few sizes too big, and you chuckled internally, knowing that you were the reason for that.

“Ah, I see you have yet again managed to involve yourself in the business of pathetic stormtroopers,” he spat.

You glanced down to Finn’s fists, which were clenched in anger.

“No, General. I was just asking for directions” you replied.

Hux’s eyes slowly trailed over your body, like a predator stalking his prey. Finn subtly shifted his balance back and forth, continuing to clench and unclench his fists. The General’s eyes came to land on your hair, which he scowled at disapprovingly. He began to approach you, and as he did, you noticed Finn start to move towards you. You made a small gesture with your hand, pleading with him to stay back. He listened, reluctantly.

Hux grabbed a chunk of your hair. “This is not within protocol,” he seethed.

“Neither is that coat, General,” you replied, gesturing to his oversized garb.

You had no idea where the sudden burst of confidence had come from, but you immediately regretted your comment as Hux pulled harder, causing you to wince in pain. He pulled his face to your ear.

“Strike two,” he whispered threateningly, before shoving you back into the wall and turning around, almost knocking into Finn.

Expecting Finn to move out of the way, Hux waited, but neither of them stirred. The two were locked in a stalemate for what seemed like eons. Finn eventually sidestepped, letting him pass, and with a final glare, Hux and the troopers continued walking down the hallway.

You leaned against the wall, rubbing your now-sore head. As soon as Hux and the troopers were out of sight, Finn rushed over to you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concerned. His armored hand helped you smooth down your disheveled hair.

“Yeah,” you replied shakily.

“I could’ve helped,” he stated dejectedly, a hint of frustration laced in his tone.

“I know… I just didn’t want to see you get hurt — again,” you responded stubbornly, giving him a small tap on the side of his helmet.

“Hey, this whole saving each other’s lives thing only works if it goes both ways,” he argued.

“Save your saving for another time. I’m sure I’ll need it soon enough.”

He sighed. “I really hope that isn’t true.”

Silence filled the hallway before you had a sudden realization.

“Hey, how did you know who I was when I first walked up? You were unconscious when I found you yesterday…,” you asked, perplexed.

“When I woke up in the med bay, I asked the nurses how I got there. They told me I arrived with the help of a girl from this sector of the ship. So I came here and waited. I don’t know how, but I just knew when I saw you — you were the one who had saved me.”

“Oh,” you replied, still puzzled.

“Yeah, pretty weird, huh?” He paused. “Anyways, I should let you get to work — wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“Right,” you replied. “I guess I’ll see you around then Finn.”

“I hope so, coat thief,” he said with a smirk, placing a large hand on your shoulder. “Stay safe out there.”

“I’ll try my best, Mr. Concussion,” you replied, making your way to the door of your new workplace before directing a final wave back at Finn. You watched as he walked down the hallway, stopping at the very end to turn and salute you. You chuckled. At least I made one friend today, you thought.

You pondered over your father’s words of wisdom: nothing bad can ever come from helping those in need. So yeah, maybe that wasn’t completely true. But you could amend the advice a bit, taking today’s events into account: something good will always come from helping those in need. So far, despite everything you had gone through, that seemed to remain true.

With a new spring in your step, you smoothed your uniform, fixed your hair, and held your head high as you walked into your first official workspace, feeling prepared for whatever else you would have to face throughout the day.

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[hoffkk]

Done Wasting Time

A Brightwell Fanfic

Story By: @hoffkk

Prompt: Gimme a question to start, and I’ll give you a brightwell fic that ends in a kiss!

Question given: Do you want to get out of here?

Summary:  Malcolm is reminded by a recent case how unpredictable and short life can be. So, during a romantic walk through Central Park, he decides he's done wasting time and that forever starts now... or once Dani answers this one little question. Hopefully, Malcolm gets the answer he's looking for.

**********

“Do you want to get out of here?” Malcolm asked. It had been a long two days as they worked the murder of a bride killed the day before her wedding. The groom was gutted, going on about how he had wasted so much time, waiting to be promoted before proposing in order to give his love a better life and the wedding of her dreams. He had thought they had all the time in the world, except they didn’t. Malcolm found the whole thing completely tragic, and now that the case was solved, he was itching to get out of the precinct and spend some alone time with his own love. Dani and Malcolm had been dating a little over a year now, and every day was better than the last. Not to say, they didn’t have their issues. They had bad days along with the good ones, but they learned to lean on each other and talk out their feelings, especially after tough cases like this. So, when Dani said sure and suggested they take a walk through Central Park, he was happy to oblige. 

Entering Central Park West, the couple walked arm in arm, making their way aimlessly through the park toward Cherry Hill to admire the Cherry Blossom trees that were now in full bloom, signaling spring was officially here. The sun was beginning to set and the air was crisp and cool this evening, so there weren’t too many people ambling about. That made it much easier to relax and enjoy the multitude of pink and white flowers that surrounded them. Every so often a light breeze would sweep through, stirring the trees and giving off a sweet scent that smelled of lilacs mixed with vanilla.

Dani inhaled deeply and commented, “I love the park this time of year.”

“You know you said that this past winter and the fall before that.” Malcolm noted. 

“What can I say? Central Park is extraordinary in every season.” She shrugged. 

“There is something magical about it, isn't there?” He asked rhetorically, taking in the sounds of the birds chirping and how the sun's golden rays gleamed softly through the branches of the foliage around them, emphasizing the radiance of the woods that lined their path.

The conversation lulled as the couple walked on, enjoying the serenity of an evening walk. Eventually, they happened upon the Cherry Fountain, flowing with life and effervescent with excitement, then moseyed past it and down another pathway across the way that was lined with more cherry blossoms, azaleas, and forsythia. The latter was Dani’s favorite. She had a thing for yellow flowers. They could cheer up any person and brighten up any room like little pieces of handpicked sunshine. After a few more minutes, the couple found themselves at Bow Bridge, a brilliant piece of Grecian architecture made of cast iron. Every other bridge in the park was made of stone. This one was different.  Yet, somehow, it fit in and made sense in the middle of this great park. That’s why Malcolm loved it. He knew what it was like to be different, yet somehow fit... with both the team and with Dani. That’s why he made a point to visit this particular bridge every time he came to Central Park, and this time was no different as he walked Dani halfway across before stopping and taking in the view. Staring out across the lake, he noticed a single boat floating along, heading toward the city skyline that seemed to extend above the trees in the distance. The buildings were bathed in the glow of the sunset, a striking mixture of pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows swirling through the clouds. Malcolm raked his eyes over the scenic sight and sighed contentedly while Dani muttered, “It’s so beautiful.”

Turning to look at her, Malcolm took in the glimmer of the sun radiating against her bronze skin as a breeze lightly tousled her curls and replied, "Yeah, it is." Slowly, he moved his gaze back to the incredible view in front of him and proceeded to enjoy just how perfect this moment was. 

A few seconds later, Dani looked over at him and admired the blissful smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She couldn’t help but blurt out curiously, “What are you thinking about?”

“The city.” Malcolm answered, still staring out into the distance. “There are 8.4 million people in this city, and somehow I found you.” On the last word, he turned to meet her eyes then finished, “That makes me feel pretty lucky.”

“I’m feeling pretty lucky too.” Dani replied then, after a moment, elaborated, “After all, you trusted me enough to let me in.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t always give me much of a choice.” He reminded teasingly.

“It’s called tough love, Bright.” She quipped. “And believe me, you needed it.”

“No. I needed you.” Malcolm corrected, face completely serious. “I still do, and I always will,” Then, taking a deep breath, he added, “which reminds me, I have something for you.”

“Really? What is it?” Dani asked curiously. 

Malcolm didn’t reply. Instead, he unlinked their arms to reach inside the front inner pocket of his jacket. Then, with a little flourish, he dropped to one knee and held out... a lollipop. 

“Really a lollipop?” She queried. Malcolm did always have a flair for the dramatic, but this seemed a bit much. Even for him. I mean, it was just a piece of candy. 

“Look again.” He said softly, the corners of his lips quirking upward once more.

Glancing back at the small sucker, she noticed it was a lemon lime Dum Dum. That made her think back to an old case of theirs where Malcolm gave her the same lollipop. It was the first gift he ever gave her and still sat on her desk at work. The memory made her smile. However, this one was different. There appeared to be a silver band around the wrapper. Then, as Malcolm slowly rotated the lollipop to reveal the other side, her smile fell.  Dani was stunned as her eyes zeroed in on a two carat, emerald cut diamond, twinkling in the light of the setting sun.

“Malcolm, what—“ 

Cutting her off, he shrugged and grinned nervously, “I’ve always been a sucker for you, Dani. I’ve even been sucker punched by you. That’s just how amazing you are. You comfort me like no one else can but also aren’t afraid to smack me back into reality when I need it. Most importantly, you taught me that being myself is okay. From the very beginning, you never judged me or mistreated me because of who my father is or because of the trauma I’ve been through. You’ve always believed in me, been proud of who I am, and given me the love and support that I needed, first as a friend, then as my girlfriend, and now, I hope, as my fiancée... because I love you, and I’m done wasting time. I want to love and support you in return, not just for now, but for the rest of my life. So, Daniella Aurora Powell, will you marry me?”

Dani, who stood there still looking a little awestruck, beamed back at him as she nodded enthusiastically, “Yes. Yes, I’ll-

Instead of letting her finish, Malcolm hastily rose to his feet and pulled her flush against him, kissing her more passionately than ever before. It was short lived though due to the distracting applause from the pedestrians that happened to be nearby. Pulling apart somewhat abruptly, they glanced around, and Dani couldn't help but giggle while Malcolm’s cheeks changed color to match the local flora. Distracting him from his embarrassment, she eagerly held out her hand. Understanding Dani's signal, Malcolm lifted the lolly and carefully slid the engagement ring off of the candy and onto her finger. A rush went through him as he stared down at Dani’s left hand, seeing the ring in place. Then, high on excitement and drunk on love, Malcolm kissed her again, this time much sweeter and a lot longer, relishing the feel of holding his fiancée in his arms.

After a long moment, Dani pulled back to catch her breath and let her hands rest on Malcolm's shoulders. Using one to delicately brush a stray hair out of his face, she took in his euphoric expression and said, “It’s nice seeing you this happy. It's a good look for you."

"Yeah, well, If I look as good as I feel, then I must look like the happiest man alive." He asserted. "and I don't see that changing anytime soon... or ever."

"I'm glad to hear that. After all, you know what they say," she retorted cheekily, "Happy life, happy wife."

Malcolm's heart fluttered at her last word. He loved the way that sounded. So much so, that rather than correcting her on how the expression actually goes, he implored softly, "Say it again."

"Say what?" Dani returned, having a little fun with him. "Happy? Life?"

"Dani," Malcolm warned then more tenderly added, "please?" followed by a gentle kiss to the side of her neck.

The contrast of his warm lips on her skin in place of the cool air that had been there a second ago, made Dani quietly pull a sharp intake of breath through her lungs. Then, quickly collecting herself and gazing back into his sparkling cerulean eyes, she whispered, "Wife. I can't wait to be your wife."

With that, the flutter became a whole field of butterflies roaming his chest who only flew more erratically as he stroked her cheek with his thumb and replied, "And I can't wait to be your husband."

Once more, they shared a warm smile before, once more, sharing a kiss, a lingering, toe-curling kind of kiss. Not wanting to make a scene in the park, Dani ended the kiss sooner than either of them would have liked. Then, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, she and her fiancé made their way to the nearest park exit, anxious to tell their friends and families the good news.

My Fiancé. My Husband. Dani thought to herself as she looked over at her hand that both wore the diamond ring and held tightly to the green lollipop. Then, shifting her glance to Malcolm who continued to exude joy with every step, she smirked. Yeah, she couldn't definitely get used to using those words. A lot.