#you can't turn right on red in the city limits

[greenlikethesea]

let me know in the tags something that has taken you out of a fic’s continuity entirely. for me, it was reading a fic set in nyc in which the characters went to waffle house

[xinganhao]

🍂 svt (taylor's version).

⌗ ┆love song edition ★ ₊ ˚ heartbreak edition.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: angst... so much angst, deteriorating relationships, break-ups, exes, red flags -ish, mentions of alcohol/drinking, cussing, pet names. drabbles under the cut.

🍂 hit play .ᐟ

SEUNGCHEOL SKIPPED 🎧 i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. (PEACE)

seungcheol can't meet any of his friends' eyes as he grumbles on and on about you. the boys think he's drunk off his ass at this point; truthfully, he can still see and think pretty clearly. a part of him feels like he's wasting your honor, to be so openly bitching and moaning about why he shouldn't, why he can't go back to you. the short story is that seungcheol doesn't want you to be collateral damage. with the life he lives? you'll always be in the line of fire. he'd rather cut ties than have that happen. but— when someone mumbles something about seungcheol probably not being that in love with you after all? about his love being 'for show'? he almost wants to scream. you don't know me, he nearly snaps. you don't know what i'd do for them. he'd die for you in secret.

JEONGHAN SKIPPED 🎧 you said it was a great love, one for the ages; but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages? (DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS)

you don't say anything about jeonghan taking the long way home, which leaves him both grateful and frustrated. he wants you to call him out, wants you to question his intentions. anything but this. instead, you sit quietly in the passenger seat, basking in the aftermath of your last good day together. when jeonghan stops at an intersection, he dares to glance over at you. his fingers tighten imperceptibly around the steering wheel. there had been a time when the two of you kissed at red lights, when you'd quieted all his fears with the touch of your hand. there's none of that now. you keep your eyes on the road ahead, feigning ignorance at the way jeonghan is driving way below the speed limit. the light turns green; he curses the universe for it. he doesn't want to go home. going home meant sleeping, and sleeping meant waking up to a morning where you'd no longer be his.

JOSHUA SKIPPED 🎧 you had a speech, you're speechless. love slipped beyond your reaches and i couldn't give a reason. (CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS)

joshua had watched a dozen videos about how to get down on one knee when proposing. he didn't realize he'd be on both knees, begging you to stay. that's why his right knee— the one that hadn't expected the cold ground— is just a little sore. he kneads it mindlessly, watching blankly as the city flies by. he didn't even get to pull out the ring; it's still burning a hole in to his pocket. a blessing from his mother, a curse in the form of rose gold. he briefly contemplates leaving it in this train car for someone who might actually appreciate it, though he decides against it last minute. a thought occurs to him when he passes your station. it's enough to nearly make him laugh. (or burst in to tears. he can't quite decide.) joshua realizes: he's never going to be able to take a train again without thinking of you. somehow, that's even worse than the botched proposal.

JUNHUI SKIPPED 🎧 i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted. (MIDNIGHT RAIN)

both of junhui's hands are shaking as he takes the stage. there's smattering applause, then there's a trophy being shoved towards him, then there's the glare of a dozen cameras. he thanks his manager. he thanks his fans, his family, his friends. "and—" his breath hitches. it's a good thing that he's such a great actor. otherwise, one might've seen the flicker of pain on his expression. because he's thinking of you. wondering whether you're watching live or if you'll see clips of this on your sns later in the week. will you reach out again? or will he be left spending many midnights waiting for a text that's not going to come? he pivots, his eyes seeking out the closest broadcast camera. "and here's to getting just what we wanted," he says smoothly, flashing a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. this is why he keeps trying to win— so you'll have no choice but to think of him, too.

SOONYOUNG SKIPPED 🎧 choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me. (YOU'RE LOSING ME)

"i'm the best thing at this party!" you screech, making soonyoung's face flush red with shame. he casts a glance around his surroundings to check if anybody is witnessing your outburst. big mistake. that only seems to aggravate you more. he reaches out for you, his hands closing around the groove of your wrist. there had been a time when he used to feel your pulse flutter at his touch, at his mere presence. there's none of that tonight. he's beginning to think that it hasn't been that way for a long time. you greet his hold with stormy eyes and gritted teeth, with a low hiss of "i only wanted you to see me." he wants to refute your tirade, wants to say that of course he sees you. he's looking right now, isn't he? he's— he's losing you before his very eyes and he doesn't know what to do.

WONWOO SKIPPED 🎧 if our love died young, i can't bear witness. (RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME)

"the usual?" the pitying waiter asks wonwoo. he gives her a close-lipped smile and a nod in return. when she goes in to punch his order, he feels that odd sense of nostalgia. a twisted, treacherous feeling borne from the fact that he's still visiting this damn restaurant. still asking for the seat in the corner, where the light is dim and the tablecloth is a crisp white. first real date. first anniversary. break-up. this corner has seen it all. wonwoo is twenty-eight now, but he feels twenty-three in his fantasy. as he picks at his appetizer, he imagines the new life you lead. somewhere nice with someone who's giving you everything that he can't. he doesn't blame you for leaving, for not waiting. that doesn't make it hurt any less, though. five years later, wonwoo still thinks he's going to stay here forever.

JIHOON SKIPPED 🎧 but there was one thing missing and that was the moment i knew. (THE MOMENT I KNEW)

the seaweed soup on the counter has gotten cold by the time that jihoon slips in to your apartment. you're splayed out on the couch in a fitful sleep. he realizes you haven't even changed, haven't washed off your makeup. it's all still there: the party dress, the red lipstick. all the evidence of jihoon's failure. he knows where this is heading. he sees the ending that he deserves from a mile away. still, he leaves on your coffee table a usb of what he'd been working on. he drapes a blanket over your shoulders. he considers kissing you on the forehead but he decides against it at the last minute. he doesn't think he has that privilege. instead, he takes his leave, knowing that if this was the last gift he got to give you, then he'd be somewhat content. he's always been better at speaking through his work anyway, but tonight that wasn't enough.

★ in the morning, you find the song jihoon had been working on for you:

MINGYU SKIPPED 🎧 i guess you never know; and if you wanted me, you really should've showed. (THE 1)

it shouldn't be this easy, catching up with a what-could-have-been. but mingyu still finds it to be the most comforting thing in the world. maybe too much, though, because as the two of you discuss the greatest films of all time, the alcohol makes his tongue just a little more loose. "if one thing had been different," he muses. "would everything be different today?" you know what he's asking, what he's implying. you answer his prodding with a measured sip of your own beer. he laughs, figuring he deserves that. you're not here to talk about marriage pacts and maybe's. this is nothing more than a drinking session with an old friend; mingyu tries to remind himself of that. he pushes the envelope just a teensy, tiny bit. "it would've been fun," he says as nonchalantly as he can manage. his mind quietly supplies the rest of the sentence: it would've been fun if you had been the one.

SEOKMIN SKIPPED 🎧 you can plan for a change in the weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind. (LAST KISS)

it's a special kind of pain, to watch someone's life unfold in pictures. it's the only place that seokmin can catch you nowadays. the squares of instagram. the tagged photos on facebook. you, looking like the life of the party. you, dancing on a rained-out pavement. he's pathetic, he knows, to be stalking an ex's sns like this. but the night is lonely and his phone has the answers to all of his questions about you. well, maybe not all of the questions. he's gnawing his bottom lip as his fingers fly over his keyboard, but it's not to reach out to you. he doesn't want to put you through that; he'll harrow everybody else before he does. the last few connections you two share have all heard from seokmin in one way or another. how are they? he'll text casually. they look like they're doing well.

MINGHAO SKIPPED 🎧 i made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (TOLERATE IT)

minghao waits by the door like a child reprimanded. you're a couple of paces away from him, bent over the kitchen sink— polishing plates that are already clean. it's an old habit of yours. a telltale sign that something's wrong. he almosts takes your hands in his to keep you from all your nervous tics, but then you speak. "if it's all in my head, tell me now. tell me i've got it wrong," you say, not even bothering to look up at him. minghao has never lied to you; he was not about to start now. and so he stays quiet, giving you all the answers you need. it's not all in your head. you're not wrong, his silence communicates. there's only so much of his indiscretions that you can tolerate. minghao, like always, sits and watches you— watches you learn, watches you lose, watches you leave.

SEUNGKWAN SKIPPED 🎧 sometimes i really wish that i could hate you; i've tried, but that's just somethin' i can't do. (DON'T YOU)

seungkwan will be the first to admit that he doesn't know how to be just friends with you. he wants to. wants to keep that connection in his life, wants to move past the failed relationship for the sake of your camaraderie. but as much as he tries to walk away and go on with his life, he knows it will all just be pretend. he finds someone else. that doesn't work out. he watches you try, too, with others, only for that to fall through as well. and so seungkwan is just a little guilty of smiling at you, of running in to you somewhere and staring just a little too long. he doesn't have the right to say the next couple of words, but he's also never been good at denying himself of the truth. "i missed you," he admits. past tense, he notices, so he amends. "i miss you."

VERNON SKIPPED 🎧 in my dreams, you're touching my face and asking me if i'd want to try again with you— and i almost do. (I ALMOST DO)

vernon has had a long week, thanks for asking. he would have wanted to see the city lights. and he dreams of you, too— montages where you're touching his face, asking if he wants to try again. the answer is simple; the answer is 'yes'. but he's a believer of clean cuts, of movies without sequels. so each time you reach out, there's no reply. the last couple of texts has vernon sighing because he knows what you're thinking. he knows how you think. you've probably concluded that he hates you, that he has better things to do with his time. truthfully, he's been fighting every single impulse to respond. to call just for the sake of hearing your voice. he can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye. he wouldn't survive it.

CHAN SKIPPED 🎧 dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief in the good in the world; you once believed in me. (HITS DIFFERENT)

chan knows he's being insufferable. he knows he's being attention-seeking, knows he's a little petty and a lot unfair. but he can't help it. the mere thought of you with someone else makes him want to hurl on the side of the street. and so he scream-sings your favorite songs in every club; he slurs your name until his friends are shoving him in to an uber. "their love was a lie, you know?" one of them tells him, one particular evening. chan only laughs in their face. that shit was not going to get him by. chan would rather have a raging hangover every morning than think you didn't love him. he'll get over it eventually, he's sure. for now, though, he orders his nth cocktail, much to his friends' exasperation. moving on had always been easy for him to do, but then came you.

[thevoidstaredback]

The plan was set and the game had begun.

There was a meeting on the Watchtower exactly three days after the Bat Clan had decided to mess with the Justice League, so that's when they planned to set everything in motion.

Robin couldn't be at the meeting because it fell during school hours, so Nightwing had come to the meeting with Batman. He'd already had the day off, so it wasn't too much of a hasel. Red Hood and Red Robin had both wanted to come, but they also had civilian duties to take care of.

When the meeting was over, the 'main leaguers', as many others had dubbed them, stayed behind as they always did. Normally, it was just so they all could catch up, sometimes to arrange another meeting, or even to discuss more sensitive topics.

This time, when everyone but Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, The Flash, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Cyborg, and Nightwing had left the room, Nightwing threw his arm across Batman's shoulders and said "You all should come to the Cave!"

All conversation stopped as everyone turned to look at the black and blue clad vigilante. For a long moment, no one spoke or moved. Then, Batman nodded.

"Perfect!" Nightwing's smile got even bigger.

"Um," Superman, the sweet midwesterner, flicked his eyes over to Batman's face before looking at Nightwing. "Are you sure? Bat's has never let any of us into Gotham, let alone the Bat Cave."

Nightwing winked at the hero, his domino mask not hiding it, "Yeah, well, me and the others managed to wear him down. Besides, we've all wanted to give you guys a tour! We've been to all your secret hideouts, so we figured it's about time you saw ours!"

"I'm sorry," Green Lantern raised his hand slightly, "'Others'?"

Nightwing blinked, his smile dropping. Batman straightened up. "Did you-" Nightwing cut himself off, "You do know how many of us there are in Gotham, right?"

The heroes all looked at one another. Sure, they'd heard that there was two, maybe three, working with Batman, but nothing had ever been confirmed aside from Robin working with Batman and Nightwing working in Bludhaven.

Batman fought very hard to keep a smirk off his face. Nightwing didn't even try to hide his amusement.

Wonder Woman was the one to ask, "There are rumors, but I can't say any of us know exactly how many heroes work within Gotham City limits."

Nightwing and Batman shared a glance. This added so much more to their game. They had to tell the others! This was already so much fun, but it was about to get so much better!

"Then, I guess you all have no choice but to come to the Cave with us so you can meet everyone!" Nightwing exclaimed.

The eight heroes shared looks with one another before looking back at Batman and Nightwing. Their choice was obvious to the two Bats before the group had even decided.

"Alright," Aquaman said, "When would you like us to stop by?"

Right on script. Batman said, "Meet here tomorrow at fifteen-hundred New Jersey time. We'll be here to bring you down to the Cave." Then, he left, Nightwing trailing behind him.

"Cool," Flash nodded, "Cool, cool. Totally not nerve wracking at all."

Cyborg stood from his seat. "Don't be nervous, Flash. We're actually being allowed in Gotham. Batman doesn't let anyone in Gotham."

"No," Green Arrow said, "He doesn't let anyone operate in Gotham. I've been many times."

"As Green Arrow or as a civilian?"

He fell silent and the others all laughed. He joined them.

"Regardless," Martian Manhunter said, "I think it's good he's allowing us to see his main base of operations."

"Yeah," agreed Superman, "I wonder what it'll be like."

Wonder Woman was the next to stand from her seat. "It will be quite the tour, I'm sure."

Part 2 Part 4

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 13-Car Sex-Chrollo/Reader

Notes: So guess what, turns out I wasn't getting headaches because I drink too much caffeine, it's actually because I was just undernourished!! Yay that means i can stop limiting my caffeine it was actually hell on earth. Also inspired by Blind Date by lastrisorto on Ao3 which slaps, go read it <3

Anyway enjoy, this ones gonna be a bit shorter, cause I'm tired.

.....

You didn't want to be here. The low light pours over your figure, your foot tapping against the carpeted floor with slight annoyance. 

A waiter appears at your table, silent and dressed in all black. 

“Are you ready to order, Miss?” He asks, smiling at you calmly. He must pity you, but be too professional to let it show. This is an expensive restaurant after all.

“Oh not yet,” You supply, hand coming up to twist your thin necklace. “I think I'll wait until my date arrives.”

“Very well.” The man says, fading away to the dark entrance to hell all the waiters had appeared from. You sigh. 

You’re here because of your mother. Because she had been begging and begging you to get married, and maybe going on a blind date would finally shut her up for a moment. You loved you mom, but damn was she persistent. So when she had told you about the nice woman she had met in pilates, and that the woman had this handsome single friend and she could set you up on a blind date you had finally folded. 

So here you were, dressed to the nines in a fancy restaurant staring out of the large floor length glass window, waiting for this mystery guy to arrive. You pull on the sleeve of your black slinky dress, pulling the black cardigan tighter around your shoulders. There's a bit of a draft. 

It is a bit embarrassing that you folded too easily to your mother, being a powerful member of the infamous phantom troupe. But your mom was way more scary than any of your co-workers for sure. And besides, you have some free time. They don't need you right now, you can do this whole dating thing tonight before you have to meet the rest of the troupe tomorrow. It's nice that you were already in Yorknew city visiting your mom when you had received the summons. 

The restaurant is very nice. Thin hard red carpet covers the floor, muffling footsteps until you can barely hear them. The room is low lit, and a Violin Quartet is situated in the corner, providing a lovely romantic atmosphere. If only this was a real date. You sigh, maybe the guy will be hot and you can get laid and go on your way home. Then at least some good can come of it. 

The table before you is covered in a pure white tablecloth, occupied only by a small bread plate beside which sits a knife, spoon and fork, and a wine glass. A small candle sits in the center of the table, casting a yellow light into the rounded crystal glass. 

You glance at your silver watch, eyeing the minute hand as it clicks closer and closer to seven. Maybe if he's late you can go home and tell your mom that he didn't show up and you were disappointed but there was nothing you could do—

“Excuse me, are you here for the blind date, Miss?”

Your date must be here, a few seconds from being late. His voice sounds a bit familiar, for some reason. You turn from the window, all ready to fake a smile and force a polite greeting, but the words dry up in your mouth as your eyes run up his body.

Everytings starting out promising. He's quite tall, and muscular through the fabric of his black suit. The two of you look like you're going to a funeral, you notice faintly. You start to hope that maybe, this guy will be handsome, and into you. And then you look at his face, and your jaw drops.

It's your boss. Because of course you can't have nice things. Chrollo seems a bit surprised as well, implying he didn't recognize you from behind. You would be offended, but you haven't actually been with the phantom troupe for that long. Only a bit over a year, and besides, the whole group didn't really meet up that often. 

“Boss?” You hiss through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice low. There are only a few other couples in the restaurant, but you would rather the whole room didn't know your business. “What are you doing here?”

“Don't call me that.” Chrollo says, sliding into the seat in front of you with a small fake smile. “And I could ask you the same thing.”

“I was here for a blind date,” You mutter, picking up a menu to distract yourself from the fact that your boss looks pretty good in a suit. His hair is down, too. He looks much better this way, he kind of resembles an alien with his hair slicked back. Maybe he uses too much gel. 

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Chrollo starts, and you sigh. “But you are supposed to be at the meeting tomorrow. Why are you arranging dates for yourself right before a mission, my dear?”

You flick an eyebrow at the title, and roll your eyes again. Must be sarcasm. 

“I didn't arrange this for myself. And besides, I could ask you the same thing!” You hiss across the table, scanning the appetizers. “Unless you decided it was appropriate to show up to a random restaurant in a suit and hit on a random woman.”

You smirk, trying to decide what to eat. Chrollo just smiles. Infuriatingly unflappable.

“I thought it would be fun.” He says. You roll your eyes.

“You sound like Hisoka.”

“Noted,” Chrollo says, wincing slightly, “But you didn't answer my question.”

“Should I get the cob salad, or the carbonara?” You counter, hand coming up to fiddle with your necklace. “I can't decide.”

Chrollo cocks his head to the side. 

“Get both.” 

“Too much food.” you say, deciding on the pasta. You're not that hungry anyway. A light meal sounds good. “What are you getting?”

“Carbonara i think,” Chrollo says, fingers running the length of the menu as his eyes follow behind. “Would you like to share a bottle of wine?”

“Sure,” You say, tugging at your necklace again. “So, what's the mission?”

Chrollo raises an eyebrow into the weird headband thing he has wrapped around his forehead, covering his tattoo. 

“I wasn't aware you were joining us tomorrow.” he says, faint humor hidden in his tone. You roll your eyes. 

“Who said I wasn't?” You ask, turning your eyes away from your boss and out the window. The lights leak into the night, creating a lovely pattern of shining diamonds against the black silk of the night. 

“You planned a date for the night before.” Chrollo says, flipping through the menu to the drink section. You hope he selects a good wine. His eyes flick up from the menu to meet your own for a moment, before he continues. “It's inappropriate for members of the spiders to have a boyfriend. One that isn't aware of your job, of course.”

You roll your eyes.

“We never had that rule.” You say, running a hand through your hair, mussing up the curls. Who cares, there's no mystery hot guy to impress and maybe fuck anymore. Chrollo’s eyes peer into your soul, trying to pry into your business. So what if you wanted to make your mom happy and maybe get some dick at the end. Chrollo doesn't get to know that.  

Chrollo chuckles, eyes flicking between you and the drink menu. Back and forth, back and forth.

“It hasn't been an issue before.” He says, making eye contact with one of the waiters. She nods, and disappears into the dark archway. Probably to send out another waiter or something. 

“That's an unfair rule.” You mutter, tugging at your necklace. “Why are you allowed to date, but the rest of us aren't.”

“I'm not,” Chrollo chuckles, smiling at you like you're missing something. You roll your eyes.

“Then why are you here, for a business meeting?” You questone, crossing your legs under the table, your heels hitting the center bar of the table with a small clack. 

“I—”

“Are you ready to order?”

A waiter has appeared from the abyss, and has come to stand beside your table, smiling a small blank smile. You nod, ordering your cob salad and settling back against your chair.

What an odd day this is shaping up to be. On a blind date, with your boss. You half think that maybe he somehow found out that you were in yorknew city about to go on a blind date and decided to show up and ruin your fun. But he's definitely dressed for a date. He even made an effort to put on a damn shirt for once and cover the strange tattoo on his forehead. You hold back a smirk. Too bad it was just you and not some babe. If he was going to ruin your fun, you would take pleasure in ruining his date.

“You look positively devious, my dear.” Chrollo says, handing both the menus to the waiter, who disappears into the darkness. You laugh.

“This is karma for ruining my date,” You giggle, gesturing around the two of you. “Sucks it's me and not some hottie huh? Well too bad.”

You smirk, crossing your arms over your chest. Chrollo's eyes dip for just a second. You blink. You must have imagined it, the small trip Chrollo’s eyes took down to your boobs. 

You're wearing a black cotton dress, with a halter neck and a bit of cleavage showing. Your arms are crossed under your boobs, pushing them up a bit. But there's no way Chrollo is checking you out. Absolutely no way. You drop your arms, pulling the small cardigan you're wearing tighter around your body. It doesn't go all the way around your chest, it was mostly to cover your arms. Chrollo coughs. 

“Touche,” He says, running a hand through his hair. It looks quite soft. “You must be quite unhappy. A date with your boss is rather…”

He trails off and you laugh again, brushing your hair off your shoulder in a great sweeping movement. 

“I was so surprised to see you,” You say, leaning forward a bit. “You don't seem the blind date type.”

“You as well,” Chrollo supplies, watching as the waiter returns, setting the wine bottle down on the table. “Would you like some, my dear?”

“Yes please!” You say, watching as the sparkling gold liquid foams into your cup. He's chosen a prosecco. From your limited knowledge of wine, you know that's a good wine to pair with Italian food, specifically pasta. A sweet wine, which is fine by you. You’ve always favored fruity cocktails and sweet wines.

You swirl the wine in the stem glass, taking a delicate sip. The bubbles dissolve over your tongue, the sweet fruity flavor flowing into your mouth and down your throat. You let out a little sigh of happiness. 

“Good choice, this’ll pair well with the carbonara.” You say, smiling across the table as you set the win glass back down beside your almost empty place setting. Chrollo simply stares at you for a moment, his face blank. You blink.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You tilt your head, hair falling over your shoulders as you cross your arms. Chrollo's eyes dip down again, this time for a second longer. You must be seeing things. 

“No, nothing.” Chrollo smiles finally, “I'm glad my choice of wine is favorable to your palate.”

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. He's acting kind of odd. Whatever, you giggle. You decide that you’ll just enjoy your dinner and then head home, boss or no boss. You sigh, uncrossing and re-crossing your legs. You kinda wanted to get some dick, but some carbonara and a fine wine would have to do. 

“But time to talk business,” Chrollo says, his brow furrowing from under the cloth covering his tattoo. You sigh, rolling your eyes as he continues. “It's a poor idea to have a boyfriend. You're a spider.”

You roll your eyes again, taking an angry swig of the bubbly prosecco. 

“I'm not getting a boyfriend, obviously.” You mutter, gesturing at Chrollo, seated across the table. “Besides, I just went on this blind date because my mom wanted me to.”

“Ah, really?” Chrollo questions, leaning backwards in his seat. He takes a small sip of wine, the liquid passing through his thin lips. “You should have turned her down.”

“She's been bugging me about getting married,” You sigh, tossing your hands dramatically into the air as you continue. “I figured going would shut her up. And maybe if the guy was hot i could get laid—”

You slap a hand over your mouth a bit too late. Chrollo smirks. 

“Ah, the real reason.” He chuckles, folding his hands neatly in his lap. “You could have just been honest, my dear.”

“Oh shut up,” You mutter, taking another swig of your wine. How embarrassing. Now your boss knew you were pent up and on the hunt for just any old dick. You sigh, swirling your wine around in your glass and watching golden liquid glow in the lowlight. 

“Well, I apologize for ruining your plan,” Chrollo chuckles, smiling through the steam that rises above your table as the waiter places two warm plates of carbonara down in front of each of you. You roll your eyes.

“Why did you agree to the date anyway?” You mutter, taking a bite of the pasta. It's quite good. “I told you, so it's only fair that you tell me.”

Chrollo is silent for a moment, spinning pasta around his fork delicately. You take another bite, tearing through your pasta with excitement. You were right, it does pair well with the prosecco Chrollo picked out. 

“It's…been a while.” Chrollo finally mutters, eyes sliding back to yours. He stares you down blankly, as if daring you to laugh at him. You roll your eyes instead, reaching across the table to pat him roughly on the arm.

“Aw, in the same boat as me?” You giggle. Chrollo stares at the place your hand had touched blankly as you continue, “Well, unfortunately it's not a sexy lady willing to give it up for a stranger, it's just me.”

Chrollo looks at you for a moment, watching as you take the last few bites of your pasta, silent. He seems like he's waiting for you to think of something, but you're too busy taking another swig of the lovely prosecco. It really does compliment the food well. 

“You know, I was quite surprised.” Chrollo starts, placing his fork beside his empty past plate. You tilt your head, as he continues. “It's not often I see you so dolled up, my dear.”

You laugh, patting your hair self consciously. 

“I guess,” You say, crossing your arms over your chest again. You lean forward, tipping forward on your chair, your hair slipping forward. Chrollo’s eyes seem to dip down again, this time lingering a bit too long. You can't be imagining it. 

“You too boss. You look much more handsome with your hair down.” You say, moving your arms, popping up your boobs even more. If he looks down one more time, you're gonna say something. 

Chrollo runs a hand through said hair, flipping it off his covered forehead with a small smile. Your eyes follow the movement, slightly mesmerized by the tendrils of soft black hair. You want to run your fingers through it, maybe yank on it to anchor yourself. 

Tonight isn't the first time you've had inappropriate thoughts about your boss. It has happened more times than you want to admit, even to yourself in your own mind. You've awoken with his name on your lips, your pussy throbbing with arousal. Youve found yourself drifting off into obscene daydreams when he speaks sometimes, or imagining him when your fucking other guys. It's embarrassing, but you may be in lust with your boss. But it's obvious he isn't attracted to you. Please, he barely tolerates you, he would never wanna fuck you, no matter how much you shove your boobs at him, across the table. 

You sigh, pulling back a bit, uncrossing your arms with a sigh. Chrollo smiles a small smile across the table. 

“Would you like dessert?” He asks, handing you the small card with the dessert menu printed across it. You survey the options. 

“I think i'll pass.” You sigh, sitting back in your chair. “It's late.”

Chrollo nods, making eye contact with a waiter over your shoulder. You reach down, rummaging in your purse for your phone and your wallet. 

It has been a nice night, a nice fantasy to add to your embarrassing lusty crush on Chrollo, but all good things must come to an end. You need to do a job tomorrow, after all. You look at your watch, noting that an hour and a half has passed. Where had the time gone. It had just slipped away, like a leaf in the wind. Maybe you had been enjoying yourself a little too much.

“Here,” you saw, waving your credit card at Chrollo. He simply raises an eyebrow delicately. 

“I'll take care of it,” he says, waving off your card. 

“You sure?” You ask, already stowing your card away. Better for you. Chrollo nods, shooting you a wink.

“What kind of date would this be if i let you pay,” He says, smiling softly in the lowlight. He really is quite handsome. You sigh, stowing your wallet away, safely in your purse. You smile.

“Thanks, boss!” You giggle, saluting him across the table. Chrollo just smiles at your antics. You open your phone, tapping open your driving app. It's gonna be a bit expensive, but you had assumed you would be heading home with the guys, so you hadn't driven. That was probably poor planning on your part. 

“Hey Chrollo,” You ask, slipping your phone back into your purse. You put a pleading expression on your face, and push up your cleavage. It's just a joke, but you wear his eyes flick down again, before they rise to yours.

“Yes, Name?” He questions, looking a bit wary.

“Can you give me a ride?” You question, leaning forward and being as pleading as you possibly can. “I was gonna go home with a guy. So I didn't drive.”

Chrollo chuckles. 

“Sure, my dear.” He says, running a hand through his hair distractingly. “But I must point out, that arent you doing exactly what you came to do?”

“What?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

Chrollo stands, moving like a black shadow around the table to pull your chair out for you. You watch his eyes trace you, watch them skim down your neck, take in your cleavage, caress down your curves as you stand, black fabric pooling around your knees. He takes a small breath, a tiny inhale, and then composes himself. But you’ve seen it all. You have all the evidence you need. 

You arrived at this date fully prepared to get laid. And here you are, with the perfect opportunity. You smile, subtly tugging the collar of your dress a bit lower. Chrollo is smiling, a perfectly painted on smile that would fool anyone. But you know that smile. He uses it when he wants to hide something. Your grin is calculated. Each twist of your body is controlled as you turn your back to Chrollo, bending down to pick up your purse.

Your bend is controlled to show off your ass, the arch of your waist as you rise to your feet. And it works, because as you rise up with your purse in hand, you catch an unabashed expression of lust rocket across Chrollo's face. His lips are parted, a small huff of breath falling from them as his eyes zero in on your body, on the contours and dips highlighted by the slinky dress you wear. His chest rising a bit too fast. And a telling bulge in his pants. 

By the time you're fully up of course he's controlled his face again. But you saw it. And now there's nothing holding you back. 

♥♥♥

The windows of Chrollo's small car are already fogged up and all you're doing is making out. Well, more like eating each other's faces off in the backseat. Your bodies are pressed together, your legs splayed over his lap, your bodies thrumming together with arousal as he kisses you, as you grind down on the hard dick in his pants.  

If you had told the You of earlier today that the night would end with Chrollo's tongue down your throat and dick in your pussy you would have laughed in your face. And then probably reprimanded yourself not to let those thoughts of your boss take over of course, but that's besides the point. 

“We really shouldn't be doing this my dear.” Chrollo murmurs, pulling away from your mouth to press a kiss to your pulse point. You whimper, head tipping back as hair waterfalls down your back, tangling with his hands.

“Why,” You groan, moving your hips against his dick. “We’re both consenting adults.”

Chrollo rewards you with a small groan, accompanied by a heavy sigh. You moan, hitching up your skirts as you grind against him. You want him inside you so bad. 

“We should not fraternize before the mission,” Chrollo murmurs, hands digging into your clothed waist as you grind down. “It's a distraction.”

You giggle, letting the sound fill the hot and muggy car. 

“Do you really think anyone follows that rule?” You giggle, reaching down between your bodies to pull your panties aside. You can't get them fully off, but you can shove them aside to press a few fingers against your pussy. You whimper, head falling back as you eye him, a feral look in your eyes. “Your spiders are constantly ‘fraternizing’. Didn’t you know?”

Chrollo actually looks a bit surprised, until you yank his hand off your waist, pressing it against your drooling cunt. 

“You're so wet, name.” He says, pressing a finger into your dripping cunt. “Tell me, what is all this about the spiders my dear?”

You laugh, hands gripping his still clothes shoulders as you fuck yourself against his fingers, body lith with arousal.

“Not gonna tell,” You giggle. “But if the others can fuck their colegues, you can fuck me.”

Chrollo hums, fingers twisting inside you. You moan, hands fighting with his zipper. You're a mess on his lap, your lipstick smeared on your lips, your chin. Red stains his lips, his chin, his neck. You know the stain must surround the hickeys on your neck. It turns you on. 

“Come on, hurry up and fuck me damnit!” You goran, shoving your cleavage up as far as you can. Chrollo chuckles, hands withdrawing from your pussy with a squelch. 

“Whatever you want, my dear.” He murmurs, undoing the zipper of his pants, allowing his dick to spring up, eager and drooling for you. You giggle, stroking it a few times. Chrollo's twitches in response, mouth parting in a small moan.

“Aww, it's so desperate.” You giggle, grinding your clit against it with a sigh. Chrollo simply bites back a moan, hands anchored on your waist. You're almost dizzy with arousal when you speak, “You got any condoms?”

“Wallet,” Chrollo murmurs, body moving against yours. You reach around, fishing in his pants pocket and pulling out the wallet with a dramatic flourish. Chrollo simply smiles at your antics, a bit preoccupied with the friction of your bodies, hidden by a pile of black fabric. 

You brace yourself on his shoulders as you line up, sliding him inside you one inch at a time. Your head falls back, body twitching as you sink down. Chrollo watches you, eyes hazy and unfamiliar, smiling a bit. You kiss the stupid smile off his face as he bottoms out inside you. You grind slowly first, barely rising up at all, just moving back and forth. Chrollo presses a kiss to the space under your ear, breath heaving over your skin. 

“I saw you looking at my boobs,” You moan, head falling back. Your hair waterfalls down your back as you anchor your hands on the sea behind Chrollo. His hair is wilting against his forehead, at some point he'd lost the weird bandage thing on his forehead. He smirks.

“Can you blame me?” he groans, grabbing your things and slamming you up and down. You moan loudly, the air filling with the sound of slapping and squelching. The car smells like sex and your perfume and the expensive cologne Chrollo always wears.

“Uh god, Chrollo I'm gonna cum.” You moan, body tensing as you fight back an orgasm. Chrollo chuckles.

“Oh, done already?” He groans, body tensing against yours. He's full of shit. You can feel him twitching inside you as you clench down. You can feel he's close too.

Your orgasms come in fast like a waterfall. Tossing you off the cliff violently as you cling to your boss’s shoulders, whining and begging him for something, anything. He rewards you with a few pumps in your pussy, rubbing your clit raw. 

The car smells like sex when he pushes you down on the seat, when his dick still lodged inside you comes back to life, or when he smirks down at your twitching body.

You know you're in for a ride. 

....

Endnotes: dude im so tired, but we're almost to the endddd. Kinktober is honestly so much fun even though it's so much work

[randomfoggytiger]

do you happen to have any fic recs where Scully is the one to initiate msr’s first kiss? I see a lot of the opposite but scully should get to do it

Oh, yes, a ton.

Here are a few I haven't reread in a while. *ahem*

Loose chronological order below~

Little_Pumpkin_Bagel's Vive Ut Vivas

I swallow hard. Assuming by the way she’s looking at me, I’m mostly sure that whatever she’s up to will throw caution out of limits for the sake of both of us. – “And what would that be, Scully?”

She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she holds my collar and pulls me down....

Post One Breath Mulder can't quite conceal his true feelings, which leaves Scully an opening.

trustmescully's Intoxicating Darkness

"I love you too, Scully," he smiles and his eyes shine with his mouth.

S2 Mulder, depressed and suicidal, is stopped from further considerations when Scully chases after him in the freezing rain.

@danadeservesadrink/Samwritess's

Collapse (Tumblr)

But he needed her to know like she needed him to know, and there was no pretending any more.

“I know” she whispered, so quiet it was almost in her head. He nodded silently and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing, hands falling intertwined again between them. 

Post Pusher Scully supports Mulder until his defeat breaks her walls.

Justin Glasser's (xphilefic) Lonely Nightmare

She brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "When are you going to start listening to me?"

Mulder felt his mouth twitch into a smile. "Scully," he said. His voice sounded like it was rubbed over sandpaper. Screaming, he thought. That's from when I was screaming.

"What, Mulder?" She was rubbing his shoulders now, trying to work the blood back into them. He was alive, so she was playing Doctor Scully, all business, rubbing their relationship back to normal as quickly as possible. Mulder wasn't sure he wanted it back to normal so quickly. Mulder wasn't sure he could handle normal right away.

"If you kiss me again, I promise not to shout."

Post Never Again Mulder and Scully slowly bridge the distance between them during an intense case of missing teens and bonfires.

@mollybecameanengineer/Sareki's My Beloved (Tumblr)

He started to rise, to apologize and leave the room, but she stopped him. “What things?” she whispered. 

Her face was open, her eyes bright. She knew what he was going to say, and it didn’t look like she was afraid of it.

Post Kaddish Mulder can't sleep, slipping into Scully's motel room for a late-night conversation.

@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys's

Max 2.0

Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”

Post Max Mulder drives Scully out of the city where they stargaze while she tries to reassure and motivate him to keep fighting.

The Warmest Thing I Own

He saw her suddenly blink, head shake, both signs she was just waking up, “what? Mulder?”

Knowing she didn’t recall anything because there was no embarrassment turning her red, no heat in her cheeks, eyes innocently confused, “nothing...."

Cancer arc Mulder and Scully skip work, spending the day together as he prepares the best gourmet steak and mushrooms he can for her. (The sequels Fancy Paper Napkins, End of the Road, and Post Moments are excellent reads, too.)

Miles to Go

"Mulder ..."

"Yeah?"

"Smile."

The camera flashed in his face, "I think this one should be labeled 'Before'."

Mulder gulped down the last of his hot dog, "before what?"

"Before I kissed you."

Post FTF Mulder and Scully take the remains of their burnt office home, falling asleep and waking to a storm outside. Scully bucks the expected in a few unexpected ways.

206 Bones

Chocking up her growing feeling of dread to exhaustion, anger and lack of any type of proper vitamin or mineral, she helped her partner search, track and eventually corner Parsons in an abandoned building fifteen minutes away, half demolished and dangerous to any and all who set foot inside.

Only seconds before getting the final word to take the building, Scully’s fear got the better of her and she turned Mulder to face her, pulling him down to her....

Scully gives Mulder a good luck kiss before they attempt to flush their suspect from a rotten building... and ends up the one worse for wear.

Anne Haynes's (xf-redux.com)

Sonnet

The kiss was sweet. Simple. Breathtaking.

Redux II Mulder is afraid Scully is dying, at last, only for his world to be turned right-side up in a multitude of ways.

Package Deal (txt)

But she ran her thumb beneath his chin, tipping his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes spoke a thousand sweet promises and then there was no more hesitation, no lingering gaze, no more silent questions passed back and forth between them.

Post FTF Scully is overjoyed: she and Mulder are still partnered, their story was believed, and the files are getting expanded. So overjoyed, in fact, she moves their relationship to the next level.

nabokoves's Unwritten Hymns

She mumbled his name into his shoulder, foggy with confusion. She wanted to know if he was okay. He pulled back to look at her, struggling to find something to say. He brimmed with words so corny they would make even the poets puke.

Post Redux II Mulder may hate God-- chalking up Scully's remission to science instead of his angry prayers-- but but he in no way hates God's believer, Scully.

@nowwhateinstein's (Ao3) Fic: Seeking Warmth/Seeking Warmth

I look at him. He’s regarding me with a gaze that is both familiar and thrilling. Tenderness and desire are present in his eyes. It’s the same look, I realize, he had moments before he went to kiss me in the hallway outside his apartment - a moment that seems like a lifetime ago. Then, I found myself hesitating, afraid to reciprocate his acknowledgement of a truth we’d both known. Now, however, in light of everything that’s happened in the past week, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to lean over and kiss him.

Post FTF Scully picks up where she and Mulder left off, despite her slowly recovering body and patched-up snowsuit.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's ice crystals (Ao3)

He pulls her hand up and kisses the back of it in relief. Her forehead furrows and she pulls her hand out of his. Something inside him thunks. 

But the next thing he knows, she is leaning across the space between them and cupping her face in his.

Post Tithonus Mulder and Scully flesh out their frustrations and feelings as they (almost) freeze to death.

@purrykat/mylifeinshadow's

How about M&S in Boston

She joins you next to the desk, a murmured noise of acknowledgment at the ‘CANCELLED’ notice that appears next to your flight number. You brace yourself for thinly veiled frustration, but when you risk a glance, there’s a funny little twinkle in her eye instead. You’re instantly taken back to the week prior—

Post IVF Mulder mulls over the brief kiss Scully gave him after the procedure failed.

Sending you number 20 for the kiss prompts.

I think it’s safe to say that it’s not Skinner that I’m interested in.”

And there it is. You’ve been steadily climbing toward this moment for the better part of the month, neither willing to take that final leap. It’s as if the absence of height difference gives her a burst of confidence, even as it turns you into a fumbling idiot.

Mulder, very late for a meeting with Skinner, is intercepted on the stairway by Scully.

effywho's Astra Inclinant

"I say...I say we stop talking." Scully replies.

It's his turn to look down, crumbling. "Sure, I understand."

He feels her breath on his hair as she leans closer. "I'm not sure you do."

Post IVF Mulder is shocked by not only their success but also Scully's follow up after his declaration.

EvanBlack's WHITEOUT

'You have a beautiful face Mulder.'

...There was an awkward silence, then he shifted and propped his cheek on his hand.

'That's the Evening Blush talking Scully.' He smiled with his lips, but she could see his eyes were serious - and nervous.

His nerves gave her sudden courage. 

A plane crashes Mulder and Scully in the snowy mountains; and their petty squabbles become small in comparison to starvation, necessary cannibalism, and the increasing odds of death.

Xequinn's (Ao3) Playing Hookie

“Yeah let's do this” “On a count of three” she says” “One,” he responds On “Two” they adjust suddenly sweaty hands “Three!” Scully leaps off, pulling Mulder behind her

Scully has fun dragging Mulder around on her slightly manic beachside adventures.

The Trouble with Expectations - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

“Scully of course I showed. Why did you think I hadn’t?” She didn’t answer. Just let more tears fall. He grabbed for her hand again, and she let him. “Scully I’ll always come get you”

She didn’t answer. Just lunged forward and grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as she could.

Scully, assuming Mulder forgot to pick her up from the airport, is heartbroken... until Mulder wanders over from the bathroom.

@this-is-surely-tru/yours_truly's If the Fates Allow

“Tactile evidence only increases the anticipation, Mulder. It doesn’t diminish it.”

The slightly concussed look on her partner’s face was undeniably adorable, and he shook his head slightly as if to clear it while they both relaxed again into the carriage seat. “Far be it from me to argue with that, Scully.”

Mulder, stuck in New York for Christmas, surprises his partner with a rented carriage ride; and she, in turn, surprises him as well.

@alabama-metal-man's Unnamed

 She pulls back, runs her hand along his cheek, and turns away to take a long drag of her coffee. She closes her eyes, sighing contentedly.

“What was that for?” She can hear the hint of teasing, the lingering smile.

Scully is having a rotten morning until Mulder remembers her coffee order.

@admiralty-xfd/admiralty's Up in your arms - Chapter 1

He stared at her with a look she couldn’t figure out, but it wasn’t a look that said don’t. It was the furthest thing from that look she could discern. So she leaned into him, all the way in, and she felt him inhale ever so slightly as she took the biggest risk of her life.

Post Closure Mulder contemplates his new life. Scully answers at least one question for him.

And just for fun, I grabbed a few of my baronessblixen rereads:

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3) 

Temporary Insanity (Ao3)

How many times has she cheated death this year? Two times? Three? She’s come so close that she’s stopped counting. Every time, she just picked herself up, bought a new blouse if it was torn or bloody, threw away shoes that weren’t as lucky as she was, and calmed herself down when a nightmare tried to take her under. She’s done. She feels it in her fingertips. She feels it like a current running through her body. She needs something. Something to make her feel alive.

Paper Clip Scully is spurned by her anger into more-than-professional overtures.

The Day After (Ao3)

“Kiss and make up?” Mulder says with a grin, biting his bottom lip. He at least has to try. Scully stares at him for a moment, the way she sometimes does before she tells him how crazy he is. He knows that look. But this time it’s different. 

Wetwired Mulder and Scully's discussion leads to decisive action on her part.

Never Cold With You By My Side

Feeling bold, she lets her hand wander behind his neck to play with the hair there. If he doesn’t want this – her – he can stop her before this even starts. But he doesn’t. So she pulls him to her, pressing her lips to his.

One Son Mulder and Scully spend the night locked up in Fort Marlene while she is hurt, jealous, and angry.

Dreams Are Made of This

Scully gets on her tiptoes and kisses Mulder. On the lips, just like that. Just like she’s been thinking about. It’s a quick kiss, but thorough. Like you’d kiss your husband. The person you love. All those thoughts fly through her head as she steps out the door. She stops there, realizing what she just did.

Scully, in the midst of a hopeful IVF daydream, accidentally kisses Mulder.

Five Minutes - Chapter 2 (Tumblr)

He returns with them, one in each hand, and when Scully reaches out to take hers, he shakes his head. Seeing him like this, her knight in crinkled Armani, his hands full, she can’t wait another second. She gets on tiptoes, careful not to topple over, and presses her lips to his. He tastes like coffee and the chocolate chip cookie they shared on the plane. They’ve waited long enough for this.

“We have?” Mulder, his eyes glazed over, grinning stupidly, sounds amused.

Will never not include this post IVF success story.

Candlelight Moments With You

You look like you're gonna faint. Eat something." She holds a chip up to his mouth and he accepts it, his lips closing over her finger. He can't tell what flavor the chips are, but he knows he wants more.

"More?" he asks in a whisper. She smiles at him and nods. But he doesn't get another chip. Instead, he gets a kiss.

Mulder tries to give Scully a good enough Christmas while both are practically stranded in a motel.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

In defense of bureaucratic competence

Sure, sometimes it really does make sense to do your own research. There's times when you really do need to take personal responsibility for the way things are going. But there's limits. We live in a highly technical world, in which hundreds of esoteric, potentially lethal factors impinge on your life every day.

You can't "do your own research" to figure out whether all that stuff is safe and sound. Sure, you might be able to figure out whether a contractor's assurances about a new steel joist for your ceiling are credible, but after you do that, are you also going to independently audit the software in your car's antilock brakes?

How about the nutritional claims on your food and the sanitary conditions in the industrial kitchen it came out of? If those turn out to be inadequate, are you going to be able to validate the medical advice you get in the ER when you show up at 3AM with cholera? While you're trying to figure out the #HIPAAWaiver they stuck in your hand on the way in?

40 years ago, Ronald Reagan declared war on "the administrative state," and "government bureaucrats" have been the favored bogeyman of the American right ever since. Even if Steve Bannon hasn't managed to get you to froth about the "Deep State," there's a good chance that you've griped about red tape from time to time.

Not without reason, mind you. The fact that the government can make good rules doesn't mean it will. When we redid our kitchen this year, the city inspector added a bunch of arbitrary electrical outlets to the contractor's plans in places where neither we, nor any future owner, will every need them.

But the answer to bad regulation isn't no regulation. During the same kitchen reno, our contractor discovered that at some earlier time, someone had installed our kitchen windows without the accompanying vapor-barriers. In the decades since, the entire structure of our kitchen walls had rotted out. Not only was the entire front of our house one good earthquake away from collapsing – there were two half rotted verticals supporting the whole thing – but replacing the rotted walls added more than $10k to the project.

In other words, the problem isn't too much regulation, it's the wrong regulation. I want our city inspectors to make sure that contractors install vapor barriers, but to not demand superfluous electrical outlets.

Which raises the question: where do regulations come from? How do we get them right?

Regulation is, first and foremost, a truth-seeking exercise. There will never be one obvious answer to any sufficiently technical question. "Should this window have a vapor barrier?" is actually a complex question, needing to account for different window designs, different kinds of barriers, etc.

To make a regulation, regulators ask experts to weigh in. At the federal level, expert agencies like the DoT or the FCC or HHS will hold a "Notice of Inquiry," which is a way to say, "Hey, should we do something about this? If so, what should we do?"

Anyone can weigh in on these: independent technical experts, academics, large companies, lobbyists, industry associations, members of the public, hobbyist groups, and swivel-eyed loons. This produces a record from which the regulator crafts a draft regulation, which is published in something called a "Notice of Proposed Rulemaking."

The NPRM process looks a lot like the NOI process: the regulator publishes the rule, the public weighs in for a couple of rounds of comments, and the regulator then makes the rule (this is the federal process; state regulation and local ordinances vary, but they follow a similar template of collecting info, making a proposal, collecting feedback and finalizing the proposal).

These truth-seeking exercises need good input. Even very competent regulators won't know everything, and even the strongest theoretical foundation needs some evidence from the field. It's one thing to say, "Here's how your antilock braking software should work," but you also need to hear from mechanics who service cars, manufacturers, infosec specialists and drivers.

These people will disagree with each other, for good reasons and for bad ones. Some will be sincere but wrong. Some will want to make sure that their products or services are required – or that their competitors' products and services are prohibited.

It's the regulator's job to sort through these claims. But they don't have to go it alone: in an ideal world, the wrong people will be corrected by other parties in the docket, who will back up their claims with evidence.

So when the FCC proposes a Net Neutrality rule, the monopoly telcos and cable operators will pile in and insist that this is technically impossible, that there is no way to operate a functional ISP if the network management can't discriminate against traffic that is less profitable to the carrier. Now, this unity of perspective might reflect a bedrock truth ("Net Neutrality can't work") or a monopolists' convenient lie ("Net Neutrality is less profitable for us").

In a competitive market, there'd be lots of counterclaims with evidence from rivals: "Of course Net Neutrality is feasible, and here are our server logs to prove it!" But in a monopolized markets, those counterclaims come from micro-scale ISPs, or academics, or activists, or subscribers. These counterclaims are easy to dismiss ("what do you know about supporting 100 million users?"). That's doubly true when the regulator is motivated to give the monopolists what they want – either because they are hoping for a job in the industry after they quit government service, or because they came out of industry and plan to go back to it.

To make things worse, when an industry is heavily concentrated, it's easy for members of the ruling cartel – and their backers in government – to claim that the only people who truly understand the industry are its top insiders. Seen in that light, putting an industry veteran in charge of the industry's regulator isn't corrupt – it's sensible.

All of this leads to regulatory capture – when a regulator starts defending an industry from the public interest, instead of defending the public from the industry. The term "regulatory capture" has a checkered history. It comes out of a bizarre, far-right Chicago School ideology called "Public Choice Theory," whose goal is to eliminate regulation, not fix it.

In Public Choice Theory, the biggest companies in an industry have the strongest interest in capturing the regulator, and they will work harder – and have more resources – than anyone else, be they members of the public, workers, or smaller rivals. This inevitably leads to capture, where the state becomes an arm of the dominant companies, wielded by them to prevent competition:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is regulatory nihilism. It supposes that the only reason you weren't killed by your dinner, or your antilock brakes, or your collapsing roof, is that you just got lucky – and not because we have actual, good, sound regulations that use evidence to protect us from the endless lethal risks we face. These nihilists suppose that making good regulation is either a myth – like ancient Egyptian sorcery – or a lost art – like the secret to embalming Pharaohs.

But it's clearly possible to make good regulations – especially if you don't allow companies to form monopolies or cartels. What's more, failing to make public regulations isn't the same as getting rid of regulation. In the absence of public regulation, we get private regulation, run by companies themselves.

Think of Amazon. For decades, the DoJ and FTC sat idly by while Amazon assembled and fortified its monopoly. Today, Amazon is the de facto e-commerce regulator. The company charges its independent sellers 45-51% in junk fees to sell on the platform, including $31b/year in "advertising" to determine who gets top billing in your searches. Vendors raise their Amazon prices in order to stay profitable in the face of these massive fees, and if they don't raise their prices at every other store and site, Amazon downranks them to oblivion, putting them out of business.

This is the crux of the FTC's case against Amazon: that they are picking winners and setting prices across the entire economy, including at every other retailer:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The same is true for Google/Facebook, who decide which news and views you encounter; for Apple/Google, who decide which apps you can use, and so on. The choice is never "government regulation" or "no regulation" – it's always "government regulation" or "corporate regulation." You either live by rules made in public by democratically accountable bureaucrats, or rules made in private by shareholder-accountable executives.

You just can't solve this by "voting with your wallet." Think about the problem of robocalls. Nobody likes these spam calls, and worse, they're a vector for all kinds of fraud. Robocalls are mostly a problem with federation. The phone system is a network-of-networks, and your carrier is interconnected with carriers all over the world, sometimes through intermediaries that make it hard to know which network a call originates on.

Some of these carriers are spam-friendly. They make money by selling access to spammers and scammers. Others don't like spam, but they have lax or inadequate security measures to prevent robocalls. Others will simply be targets of opportunity: so large and well-resourced that they are irresistible to bad actors, who continuously probe their defenses and exploit overlooked flaws, which are quickly patched.

To stem the robocall tide, your phone company will have to block calls from bad actors, put sloppy or lazy carriers on notice to shape up or face blocks, and also tell the difference between good companies and bad ones.

There's no way you can figure this out on your own. How can you know whether your carrier is doing a good job at this? And even if your carrier wants to do this, only the largest, most powerful companies can manage it. Rogue carriers won't give a damn if some tiny micro-phone-company threatens them with a block if they don't shape up.

This is something that a large, powerful government agency is best suited to addressing. And thankfully, we have such an agency. Two years ago, the FCC demanded that phone companies submit plans for "robocall mitigation." Now, it's taking action:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2023/10/telcos-filed-blank-robocall-plans-with-fcc-and-got-away-with-it-for-2-years/

Specifically, the FCC has identified carriers – in the US and abroad – with deficient plans. Some of these plans are very deficient. National Cloud Communications of Texas sent the FCC a Windows Printer Test Page. Evernex (Pakistan) sent the FCC its "taxpayer profile inquiry" from a Pakistani state website. Viettel (Vietnam) sent in a slide presentation entitled "Making Smart Cities Vision a Reality." Canada's Humbolt VoIP sent an "indiscernible object." DomainerSuite submitted a blank sheet of paper scrawled with the word "NOTHING."

The FCC has now notified these carriers – and others with less egregious but still deficient submissions – that they have 14 days to fix this or they'll be cut off from the US telephone network.

This is a problem you don't fix with your wallet, but with your ballot. Effective, public-interest-motivated FCC regulators are a political choice. Trump appointed the cartoonishly evil Ajit Pai to run the FCC, and he oversaw a program of neglect and malice. Pai – a former Verizon lawyer – dismantled Net Neutrality after receiving millions of obviously fraudulent comments from stolen identities, lying about it, and then obstructing the NY Attorney General's investigation into the matter:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/31/and-drown-it/#starve-the-beast

The Biden administration has a much better FCC – though not as good as it could be, thanks to Biden hanging Gigi Sohn out to dry in the face of a homophobic smear campaign that ultimately led one of the best qualified nominees for FCC commissioner to walk away from the process:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/15/useful-idiotsuseful-idiots/#unrequited-love

Notwithstanding the tragic loss of Sohn's leadership in this vital agency, Biden's FCC – and its action on robocalls – illustrates the value of elections won with ballots, not wallets.

Self-regulation without state regulation inevitably devolves into farce. We're a quarter of a century into the commercial internet and the US still doesn't have a modern federal privacy law. The closest we've come is a disclosure rule, where companies can make up any policy they want, provided they describe it to you.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out how to cheat on this regulation. It's so simple, even a Meta lawyer can figure it out – which is why the Meta Quest VR headset has a privacy policy isn't merely awful, but long.

It will take you five hours to read the whole document and discover how badly you're being screwed. Go ahead, "do your own research":

https://foundation.mozilla.org/en/privacynotincluded/articles/annual-creep-o-meter/

The answer to bad regulation is good regulation, and the answer to incompetent regulators is competent ones. As Michael Lewis's Fifth Risk (published after Trump filled the administrative agencies with bootlickers, sociopaths and crooks) documented, these jobs demand competence:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/11/27/the-fifth-risk-michael-lewis-explains-how-the-deep-state-is-just-nerds-versus-grifters/

For example, Lewis describes how a Washington State nuclear waste facility created as part of the Manhattan Project endangers the Columbia River, the source of 8 million Americans' drinking water. The nuclear waste cleanup is projected to take 100 years and cost 100 billion dollars. With stakes that high, we need competent bureaucrats overseeing the job.

The hacky conservative jokes comparing every government agency to the DMV are not descriptive so much as prescriptive. By slashing funding, imposing miserable working conditions, and demonizing the people who show up for work anyway, neoliberals have chased away many good people, and hamstrung those who stayed.

One of the most inspiring parts of the Biden administration is the large number of extremely competent, extremely principled agency personnel he appointed, and the speed and competence they've brought to their roles, to the great benefit of the American public:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

But leaders can only do so much – they also need staff. 40 years of attacks on US state capacity has left the administrative state in tatters, stretched paper-thin. In an excellent article, Noah Smith describes how a starveling American bureaucracy costs the American public a fortune:

https://www.noahpinion.blog/p/america-needs-a-bigger-better-bureaucracy

Even stripped of people and expertise, the US government still needs to get stuff done, so it outsources to nonprofits and consultancies. These are the source of much of the expense and delay in public projects. Take NYC's Second Avenue subway, a notoriously overbudget and late subway extension – "the most expensive mile of subway ever built." Consultants amounted to 20% of its costs, double what France or Italy would have spent. The MTA used to employ 1,600 project managers. Now it has 124 of them, overseeing $20b worth of projects. They hand that money to consultants, and even if they have the expertise to oversee the consultants' spending, they are stretched too thin to do a good job of it:

https://slate.com/business/2023/02/subway-costs-us-europe-public-transit-funds.html

When a public agency lacks competence, it ends up costing the public more. States with highly expert Departments of Transport order better projects, which need fewer changes, which adds up to massive costs savings and superior roads:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4522676

Other gaps in US regulation are plugged by nonprofits and citizen groups. Environmental rules like NEPA rely on the public to identify and object to environmental risks in public projects, from solar plants to new apartment complexes. NEPA and its state equivalents empower private actors to sue developers to block projects, even if they satisfy all environmental regulations, leading to years of expensive delay.

The answer to this isn't to dismantle environmental regulations – it's to create a robust expert bureaucracy that can enforce them instead of relying on NIMBYs. This is called "ministerial approval" – when skilled government workers oversee environmental compliance. Predictably, NIMBYs hate ministerial approval.

Which is not to say that there aren't problems with trusting public enforcers to ensure that big companies are following the law. Regulatory capture is real, and the more concentrated an industry is, the greater the risk of capture. We are living in a moment of shocking market concentration, thanks to 40 years of under-regulation:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

Remember that five-hour privacy policy for a Meta VR headset? One answer to these eye-glazing garbage novellas presented as "privacy policies" is to simply ban certain privacy-invading activities. That way, you can skip the policy, knowing that clicking "I agree" won't expose you to undue risk.

This is the approach that Bennett Cyphers and I argue for in our EFF white-paper, "Privacy Without Monopoly":

https://www.eff.org/wp/interoperability-and-privacy

After all, even the companies that claim to be good for privacy aren't actually very good for privacy. Apple blocked Facebook from spying on iPhone owners, then sneakily turned on their own mass surveillance system, and lied about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

But as the European experiment with the GDPR has shown, public administrators can't be trusted to have the final word on privacy, because of regulatory capture. Big Tech companies like Google, Apple and Facebook pretend to be headquartered in corporate crime havens like Ireland and Luxembourg, where the regulators decline to enforce the law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

It's only because of the GPDR has a private right of action – the right of individuals to sue to enforce their rights – that we're finally seeing the beginning of the end of commercial surveillance in Europe:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/07/americans-deserve-more-current-american-data-privacy-protection-act

It's true that NIMBYs can abuse private rights of action, bringing bad faith cases to slow or halt good projects. But just as the answer to bad regulations is good ones, so too is the answer to bad private rights of action good ones. SLAPP laws have shown us how to balance vexatious litigation with the public interest:

https://www.rcfp.org/resources/anti-slapp-laws/

We must get over our reflexive cynicism towards public administration. In my book The Internet Con, I lay out a set of public policy proposals for dismantling Big Tech and putting users back in charge of their digital lives:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

The most common objection I've heard since publishing the book is, "Sure, Big Tech has enshittified everything great about the internet, but how can we trust the government to fix it?"

We've been conditioned to think that lawmakers are too old, too calcified and too corrupt, to grasp the technical nuances required to regulate the internet. But just because Congress isn't made up of computer scientists, it doesn't mean that they can't pass good laws relating to computers. Congress isn't full of microbiologists, but we still manage to have safe drinking water (most of the time).

You can't just "do the research" or "vote with your wallet" to fix the internet. Bad laws – like the DMCA, which bans most kinds of reverse engineering – can land you in prison just for reconfiguring your own devices to serve you, rather than the shareholders of the companies that made them. You can't fix that yourself – you need a responsive, good, expert, capable government to fix it.

We can have that kind of government. It'll take some doing, because these questions are intrinsically hard to get right even without monopolies trying to capture their regulators. Even a president as flawed as Biden can be pushed into nominating good administrative personnel and taking decisive, progressive action:

https://doctorow.medium.com/joe-biden-is-headed-to-a-uaw-picket-line-in-detroit-f80bd0b372ab?sk=f3abdfd3f26d2f615ad9d2f1839bcc07

Biden may not be doing enough to suit your taste. I'm certainly furious with aspects of his presidency. The point isn't to lionize Biden – it's to point out that even very flawed leaders can be pushed into producing benefit for the American people. Think of how much more we can get if we don't give up on politics but instead demand even better leaders.

My next novel is The Lost Cause, coming out on November 14. It's about a generation of people who've grown up under good government – a historically unprecedented presidency that has passed the laws and made the policies we'll need to save our species and planet from the climate emergency:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

The action opens after the pendulum has swung back, with a new far-right presidency and an insurgency led by white nationalist militias and their offshore backers – seagoing anarcho-capitalist billionaires.

In the book, these forces figure out how to turn good regulations against the people they were meant to help. They file hundreds of simultaneous environmental challenges to refugee housing projects across the country, blocking the infill building that is providing homes for the people whose homes have been burned up in wildfires, washed away in floods, or rendered uninhabitable by drought.

I don't want to spoil the book here, but it shows how the protagonists pursue a multipronged defense, mixing direct action, civil disobedience, mass protest, court challenges and political pressure to fight back. What they don't do is give up on state capacity. When the state is corrupted by wreckers, they claw back control, rather than giving up on the idea of a competent and benevolent public system.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/23/getting-stuff-done/#praxis

[urlocaldesertdweller]

Reader x Mafia! Venture

lowkey can't stop thinking about this ever since my latest post, so I chose to write a lil more about you and mafia venture :)) I suggest u read this link before reading this

i made Sloan get a lil possessive and dare I say yandere in the end

https://www.tumblr.com/urlocaldesertdweller/757312721956061184/manifesting-where-blizzard-finally-gave-our?source=share

It was already late by the time you left your city's bar and club, it wasn't often that you drank so spending time at one of the biggest bars in your city was already pushing your limits but life was getting to you and you couldn't help with a drink or two surrounded by the people.

The second you step foot out of those luxurious-looking doors to nothing but the pitch black sky and the dim lights surrounding the alleyways. The effects of the alcohol were long gone with panic considering you'd worry too much for your little heart to bear.

Your clinky shoes would tap against the road as you sped down the dimly lit road. You had a very good reason to worry for your life walking down the streets in a city like this. The main problem is that your city has been overrun by a very large and popular gang group that basically took over the city behind its curtains.

You have seen the dangerous gang work but only from afar, and of course, you were never the confrontational type. So you usually kept your head down as usual seeming to pretend that said gang doesn't exist and can kill you on the spot if you somehow piss a single gang member off.

You shake your head trying to not overthink what could happen on the way back home as you shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket walking just a little faster. Your home is definitely a small and cozy one, to say the least, but it's only a ways away on the outskirts of the city. Honestly, you really should've bought a car if you were so worried for your life.

You remember these streets like the back of your hand honestly it's the only thing you can use when it comes to walking is knowing where you are going. But something stops you right in your tracks, you hear something, something sticks out of the regular dogs barking, shouting, and occasional gunshot. No, you hear a motor of sorts, a whirling, and sounds of dirt being moved.

You should have stayed curious and only curious. You feel your feet move toward noise which leads off your usual route. Your biggest red flag should have been the fact that the source of the noise led you to a small cemetery. But your feet don't stop moving as you rest your hand on the wooden fence which creaks under your hand. You rise on your tippytoes to try and look ahead instead of going forward. You only see a large lump of freshly broken dirt which smells nice after being in the bar and only smelling cigars and alcohol.

With only being able to see beside a lump of dirt you know from the ongoing whirling that it's a hole. The signs should've told you that it was obvious that someone was either digging someone up or digging someone down. But yet again you continue onto the soft dry grass walking past the stone and metal tombstone, the pile of dirt of course turns out to be a hole, and a very deep one at that, seeming to go way below the average 6 feet for funerals.

The good news for your nosy butt is that you found where the noise was coming from, a small light that you can barely see seems to be held by whoever is handling the drill causing all of the noise. The bad news is that the light seems to be coming back up at an unnatural pace which is the final thing that sends you into a panic. You are nearly left with not even a second to leave as the person wielding the drill pops out of the hole.

You feel yourself freeze feeling that for some reason if you don't move they don't see you, but you thank god that they get out and stand with their back facing you, which allows you some thinking time to ask yourself who is possibly digging at this almost abandoned cemetery. First of all their choice of clothing for a burial seems too fancy along with their hairstyle it almost made it seem to you that-.

It all comes down on you as they dust themselves off whistling a quiet tune as they walk around behind the dead tree to grab something. Dear god, you know who they are. It's Sloan Cameron, a member of the gang that took over your city. Not only just a member but one of the right-hand men to the leader and the main person who deals with the bodies after “business”. You connect the dots and figure that whatever is hiding behind the dying tree is a body they dug the deep hole for.

You finally gain a sense of urgency and back away from the scene that you had no business in witnessing. But as your shoes click onto the rough street you know it's already too late to run without getting caught as you look back to see them holding a large body bag over their shoulder only staring at you in an equal amount of disbelief on their face.

You feel like a deer caught in headlights as you feel yourself freezing again thinking "This is it, I'm dead and I'm going to be buried 15 feet in the ground of some rotting graveyard".

"…What the hell.?"

"Um, I... crap.!”

You stammer backing away as you watch them drop the body bag and step forward. You don't give them the time to feel the flight or fight kick in as you run down the street you don't bother even looking back fearing for your life once more you can hear their voice shout and echo through the streets.

"Wait! Don't run please!!”

Their shouts do very little and in fact, only encourage you to run longer and faster. You eventually hear their voice become more distant the more you run, you stop to the side not only realising how out of breath are but you have no idea where you are. It’s only then that you realize that you have run into a dead end making you panic all the more, you stuff your hand into your hair whimpering with the stress.

You realize how much you underestimated how far you ran considering most of these streets that surround you all look unfamiliar, what mainly pushes you to move is the sound of growing footsteps and heavy breathing.

“Hello? Where did you go? I promise I'm not going to hurt you!”

They say but still mind from shouting to keep from people waking up in the surrounding buildings towering you both.

Nevertheless, you refuse to believe their words considering you have seen the things they did. You weave yourself through and out the connecting alleys until you realize that you managed to run into a certain blocked-out neighborhood surrounded by a tall and dense brick wall forcing you to find a way to exit the same way you entered along with having to avoid Sloan Cameron's sight.

Every twist and turn to look for and go down only further confuses you as already struggle to keep quiet in a nearly dead silent neighborhood. Along with realizing that the alleys have gone too quiet, it's all too late at a very strong pair of arms lock you into another body, you already know it's Cameron and before you can even gasp to yell a clothed arm is shoved into your face muffling your screams. Your heart races like never before your heartbeat is pounding in your ears and you can barely hear...shushing.?

"Shhh! ¡Por favor calmate!"

Your mouth becomes dry and uncomfortable with the tightly woven fabric absorbing any moisture but it's clear that it doesn't bother Sloan as they seem panicked to keep you quiet. Your breathing slows down but your heart still thumps in your chest as you look up to see your current captor with teary eyes. You muffle something but you aren't even sure what you said as they lose the iron grip on your mouth letting you breathe with a loud gasp.

Before you are even able to think clearly let alone speak Cameron rushes their words out into a blabble.

"Okay, just hear me out before you even try shouting again! ...I promise that I'm not going to hurt or kill you. You need to calm down before I can trust you and let you go okay.?!"

It's not even the words it is the tone along with the small cracks behind their voice that gives legitimacy, which calms you further but of course living in this city still has your guard up, you finally speak by shushing them yourself ending their frantic babble.

"Hush yourself!"

You sigh still trying to catch your breath shifting with your arms squished to your sides in their arms. They apologize in Spanish under their breath and loosen their arms as well, which surprises you considering how polite they are despite their kind of reputation and line of deadly work.

"Ookay... The amount of questions and confusion is...insane. Before I say anything else...please let me go."

By this time you really want to no longer be restrained like a rabid animal and you grunt trying hard to squirm out of their grip with failure. Again being respectful they drop you down on the ground as you whip to look at them with confusion.

"The Sloan Cameron. Or this city's infamous Mole..."

You draw off which clearly makes Sloan nervous and tug on the collar of their shirt. Honestly, you mentality asked yourself if this is actually the Mole of the gang with how you were dominating this conversation for the moment being.

"Yes, that's me.! The Mole of the gang heh..."

They chuckle before rushing to swipe away a sweat drop leaking down the side of their said and flash an awkward smile expecting more from you.

"... I'm just confused in many upon many ways..."

"...What do you mean.?"

"Aren't know... supposed to kill me.? You caught me...catching you digging away a body!"

Then Sloan widens their eyes almost shocked and the tension is quickly broken up by them clearly holding in snickers and giggles making their cheeks red.

"Pft! ...Do, do you really think I work like that.?!"

They burst out laughing and even slap their knee. You are stunned by this, to say the least considering you were literally running and fearing for your life.

"Wh- Why are you laughing.?"

"Whoo! It's just...that, you didn't do anything bad to have your name on a list.!"

It does make sense that you haven't really given a good reason for getting a hitman on you. But that raises another question, if they knew you weren't trouble why did they go after you.?

"But why did you go running after me then.?"

"Well gee, there's a couple of reasons...you were running into a dangerous neighborhood...I know I also didn't want you to go running around saying that you caught me and reported to the police.."

They stand tapping on their chin as they draw off wondering for many other reasons. Despite the gang managing to overthrow the city's police forces, you find it funny that the Sloan Cameron cares so much from how a non-target thinks about them to refusing to get caught and reported to the police. You find yourself snickering which Sloan notices and nudges you.

"Now who's laughing now hm.?"

"Just a lot of things... I thought you were going to be more known, ruthless, and brutal I guess. But I'm not saying that I want you to be.!"

You put your hands up chuckling which makes them smile. What an odd night you think. You don't even think about the time considering you felt like you just barely dodged a massive bullet tonight. You hum looking around finally gaining ground after you settled things down with Cameron. They notice you looking troubled and can't help but feel guilt, they did startle you into running into an unknown neighborhood.

"Hey, I know this is an odd place. Since I did scare you... I can help you out.!"

Without thought they gently grab your hand which surprises you but you don't mind it as long as it helps you get out of here. They already make their way out of the alleys onto the main road, you'd figure that they would eventually let go but they keep on tight which makes you feel confused but warm on the inside.

"Yeah, I'd love that. So as a hitman or something like that...do you by any chance in your gang keep track of people's locations.?"

"Yeesh! We don't fall under all of the stereotypes, Amar. But! We only really keep track of important people under our radar, you know people who messed with our business, the indebted, and the trouble!"

They boop your nose with a giggle as they swing their other arm as the streets start to look all the more familiar. The casualness makes you a mix of surprised and slightly flustered with their sudden touch.

Over time the two of you got lost in conversation which plays off really well! Sloan was really open with their more personal life which surprised you. They loved to do secret solo missions with the museums stealing and investigating pieces of human history, which they greatly said was their passion and they would return it enlighten. Along with mentioning their family saying that they started to get involved with the gang when they were young to gather money for their family, it warmed your heart until you realized that you were at the steps of your home.

It never really hit you in the end that you never mentioned the directions to your home. But their cheery voice disrupts your thoughts.

"So this is it hm.? I walked you home because even nastier business than the gang thrives in the night.!"

"Oh yeah! Thank you, Sloan Cameron!"

"Oh enough with the last names! Just call me Venture...that's my code name! Or know what.? You can just call me Sloan..."

They grin before you can turn away they pull you into a hug.

"Wow! You are really full of surprises are you.!"

"Heh, I guess I am!"

You two share a short moment which you back into your door with a smile, Sloan gets the message and backs away.

"Well if I see ya, I'll remember you.!"

"Yep, I know and I will too!"

You finally watch them disappear into the dark alleyways and you finally enter feeling slightly better about the kind of gang that is running your broken city...

...

Sloan knows the city under and overground. They return to the same bar you once were drinking at. The noises of people partying are starting to die down as they shuffle through it all and they enter the "EMPLOYEES ONLY" door. The mood changes entirely into one of shiftiness, they take off their coat as they go down a swirling flight of stairs.

"Full of surprises.? ... That's one way to put it..."

The gang owned the bar and most people knew that fact, besides you. They knew this, as they walked towards the main room many people from friends to allies greeted them but they only hummed and nodded. They are tired of having to chase you down, walk you back, finish the job with the body, and then walk all the way back home with their second family, the gang. The fellow members read like a book and remembered the plan they wanted to do.

"So how did it go.?!"

The question sparks small rallies of whoops and whistles, everyone always wanted to see their favorite hitman/errand runner/righthand man get a lover before the gang connections would come up to them.

"Yeah did they say a thing to ya.?"

"Give us a thumbs up or thumbs down will ya?!"

They stagger down the room passing them with thumbs up where everyone gets rowdy and cheers. They only roll their eyes as they stumble into their private bunkers tucked away. With heavy footsteps, they make their way toward a collection of pictures of you on a corkboard each pinned up with a yellow string connecting each to a map.

"Pronto mi pastelito. Pronto..."

They always knew you, but you never knew them until tonight. Now they can sleep happily tonight as they sit at their desk and prepare a gift for you... Dont worry it's only a handful of thornless yellow roses with a letter full who knows what. ;)

They really are full of surprises.

[weird-an]

Steve is clutching the Camaro's door handle.

Billy’s driving as usual: 50 over the speed limit, blasting some metal band Steve already forgot the name of (because it's all screaming and no singing) and he's turning around any corners way too late with screeching tires.

Steve is going to die. But not because of Billy's driving.

“C'mon, don't be a pussy,” Billy yells over the music. “Nobody says no to roadhead.”

“You're driving,” Steve says, grasping the last shreds of his patience. “You can't blow and drive.”

“You just have to handle the steering wheel and tell me when to hit the brakes, that's all!”

“That's all,” Steve mimics him. “We'll die, Billy.”

“Your boner disagrees.”

Steve groans, because of course he's got a raging hardon when Billy describes how he'll give head to Steve in vivid detail.

He's saved from death by Billy's mouth (not the worst way to go), by sirens blaring and a police car pulling them over.

“Shit,” Billy shouts.

What happens next is a show Steve didn't know he bought tickets for. Billy turns down the music, unbuttons the last of bit of his shirt and lets down the window.

“Do you know how fast you were going?” Officer Callahan holds out his hand. “Driver's license, please.”

“What?” Billy's lips form a perfect pink O. He twirls a blonde curl around his finger and leans forward. “Are we still within city limits?”

Callahan nods. Steve swears Billy's eyes have never been so huge and blue before.

“I'm so sorry, Chief” Billy gasps, batting his eyelashes at Callahan, right hand opening his wallet. “I'm still not used to Indiana, you know?”

“I'm not the Sheriff. Just an officer.” Callahan turns red. He stares at Billy's license. “California, hm? I've never been.”

Steve's jaw crashes down. He can't believe it.

“Oh, you should visit!” Billy nods, like he's trying to sell Callahan a two weeks vacation in Santa Barbara. “It's beautiful!”

“You know what? I'll let you go with a warning.” Callahan gives Billy his license back. “Sometimes the signs are really hard to see here.”

“Oh, you're my hero, Officer!” Jesus fuck.

“Just doin' my job.”

Steve waits until Callahan has driven away.

“Did you just play blond and dumb for Callahan?” he asks slowly.

“It's working most of the time,” Billy grins, all proud. “Except with the Chief. Even flirting didn't work then.”

He purses his lip like he's still pouting about that.

“You flirted with Hopper?” Steve nearly yells.

“Jealous, Harrington?” Billy leans over. “I could give you some roadhead to make up for it.”

“For fuck's sake, not when you're driving!”

“Well, I'm not driving right now, am I?” Billy licks his lips.

Steve is weak. He'll die in this passenger’s seat one day. But not today.

“I guess…”

Billy's hands are already on his belt.

[shiggys-wife]

"I love you"

Shigadabi

Ratings: Everyone

Warnings: Angst

Summary: Shigaraki isn't used to hearing "I love you" and things don't go how Dabi plans when he tells him

Fanart credits to owner

"I love you."

Words Tomura hadn't heard since he was a child. A part of him craved those words, dying just waiting to hear them. But he was a villain. The leader of the League of Villains. Raised by All for One. He couldn't love anyone; he wasn't capable of being loved. He was meant for bigger things, meant to rid the world of the false heroes and make it a better place. Love was not something Tomura Shigaraki had time for. Those were not words he wanted to hear.

So, when he was lying in bed, covered in sweat and trying to catch his breath coming down from post-orgasm bliss, and Dabi whispered them in his ear, they froze Tomura in his spot.

Dabi kissed Tomura's shoulder, gently running a finger down his arm. Tomura just lay there, silent and unmoving. How could Dabi love him?

After a long silence, Dabi couldn't take it anymore. "Tomura, did you hear me?"

"No, you don't. Don't say stuff like that, Dabi," Tomura said as he rolled over in bed, away from the others' body heat.

"What do you mean?" Dabi raised up on his elbow to look at Tomura.

"You don't love me. That's not what this is. It's just sex."

Dabi huffed and sat up fully now; Tomura still had his back to him. They had been sleeping together for months, secretly sneaking away from the others and going out on runs together just to spend time together. They weren't just sleeping together.

"You're so full of shit, Shigaraki, and you know it."

"We can't do love. We don't get that. We don't have time for that."

Dabi shook his head. This was all-for-one talking. This was the bigger picture talking. He knew Tomura felt something for him. He could feel it and see it in his eyes. But he couldn't say it. He was afraid of it.

"Why? Why can't we have that? You went your whole childhood without it; hell, so did I. Who says we can't have it now?"

Was he right? Did they deserve it? No. Dabi might, but Tomura didn't. Not after all that had happened in his life and all that he had done. He didn't deserve love.

"That's just how it is,"

"I'm not falling for it; I know you feel something for me, Tomura." Tomura was beginning to get angry. He sat up and turned toward Dabi. His red eyes were wide, and his mouth was almost in a snarl. The pillow underneath his hand turned to dust in a second.

"No, I don't! Shut the fuck up acting like you know me! No one knows me!"

"Tomura-"

"No! Get out! Get the fuck out!"

Dabi stared as he yelled. Tomura had both hands balled into fists now to try and limit the damage; it was too late for Dabi's pillow.

"Listen-"

"GET OUT!"

Tomura's heart was racing as he watched Dabi storm out of the room. His mind was spinning with conflicting emotions. He wanted to reach out, to apologize, to tell Dabi that he did feel something for him, something deep and intense. But he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

As the minutes passed, Tomura's anger slowly faded, replaced by a deep ache in his chest. He lay back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his own loneliness pressing down on him. He never thought that someone could care for him, could see past the villainous facade he put on for the world.

But Dabi did. Dabi saw something in him that no one else did. And that scared Tomura more than anything. To be loved, to be truly seen and accepted, it was both his deepest desire and his greatest fear.

As the hours ticked by, Tomura couldn't shake the image of Dabi's hurt expression from his mind. He knew he had to do something, to confront his own fears and insecurities before it was too late. With a deep breath, he got up from the bed and went in search of Dabi.

He found him standing on the rooftop, looking out at the city below. Tomura approached him cautiously, unsure of what to say. Dabi turned to look at him, his eyes still clouded with hurt and confusion.

"I'm sorry," Tomura said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I...I do feel something for you, Dabi. I just...I'm scared. I'm scared of being vulnerable, of letting someone in."

Dabi's expression softened at Tomura's words. He reached out and took Tomura's hand in his own, two of his fingers covered in his special gloves now, squeezing it gently. "I know, Tomura. I know it's difficult for you to trust, to open up. But you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you, always."

Tears welled up in Tomura's eyes at Dabi's words. He never thought he would hear someone say those words to him, to offer him love and support without judgment. In that moment, he knew that he had found something worth fighting for, someone worth loving.

With a shaky breath, Tomura leaned in and kissed Dabi softly, pouring all of his pent-up emotions into the gesture. Dabi responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Tomura and pulling him close.

In that moment, surrounded by the city lights and the cool night air, Tomura finally allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he deserved love. And he was willing to fight for it, to fight for Dabi, no matter what obstacles stood in their way. For the first time in his life, Tomura felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth in his cold heart.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the words "I love you" hung in the air, unspoken yet understood. And for Tomura Shigaraki, the leader of the League of Villains, that was enough.

[kawaiichibiart]

Back to this:

I really need more people to consider AdriBat and Wonder/AmazonMari.

Of the four main batboys (Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian) Marinette gets along the best with Jason and Tim, while Adrien gets along the best with Dick and Damian, no one really gets why or how.

If Selina hadn't called dibs first, Bruce would have claimed Adrien for the BatFam. Sorry Bruce, blondie's part of the Gotham City Sirens. Besides, isn't Marinette more up your alley? She fits the look.

Diana checks in on Marinette weekly. While she can't always be around to help train her, she's grown attached to the ladybug miraculous holder.

Marinette, turning on a lamp as Adrien sneaks into their shared hotel room via a window: Where were you?? Adrien, returning from another fun night with Catwoman, caught red-handed: I was with Damian!! Damian, turning on the other lamp: Try again.

Marinette and Adrien both spend a lot of time with Alfred in the kitchen. It's a safe zone for both of them, with Marinette sometimes baking alongside him and Adrien learning from them.

You bet your ass Paris finds out about Chat Noir's new favorite hobby (random Parisian: so you think Chat Noir will actually steal the Mona Lisa? Different Parisian: *thinking about it*...nah, but if my limited edition, glow in the dark, Cosmobug goes missing, I'm betting it's him *several weeks later* Different Parisian: CHAT NOIR STOLE MY LIMITED EDITION GLOW IN THE DARK COSMOBUG!!! I KNOW BECAUSE HE POSTED A SELFIE ABOUT IT!! *holds up phone that indeed shows a selfie of Chat Noir holding a limited edition glow in the dark Cosmobug with the caption "it's mine now sucker :3").

↑ It's the first thing Marinette sees when she checks the Ladyblog for potential akumas in case she has to teleport herself and Adrien back to Paris via Pegabug when they're back in Gotham. Yeah, she is not happy (Marinette: YOU HAD ONE, O N E, JOB!! MY KITTY'S A THIEF!!).

Harley definitely sits Marinette down and talks with her about healthy relationships. It's something the younger girl had mentioned that Harley knew she could help out with. After all, her past relationship with the Joker wasn't exactly private. And while she didn't think Marinette would ever become who she was back then, Harley is willing to sit down with her and give her any advice she needs to ensure her future relationships are healthy.

There are arguments over some of the costumes. Mainly between Marinette and Damian. If Adrien's around (meaning he's not stealing shit again) he'll just join the rest of the Batboys and Batgirls, and just watch the two of them go at it like tennis match.

Jason takes both of them to a rage room. Jason: You said you couldn't feel negative emotions or some shit like that because of that butterfly fucker, right? Have at it. Enjoy breaking shit. Scream. Cry. Let it out. What's he gonna do? Show up? Good. I'll shoot him...right in the- Marinette: DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT!!

Adrien totally considers having the Bats take in Felix after he becomes Argos. For no other reason than: he's a bird. The Robins are birds. It makes sense.

If we go with the whole "class visits Gotham" thing, they're either already in Gotham when their class comes to visit, or had just returned to Paris only to go back to Gotham.

↑ No one is sure what's more surprising: Marinette knowing the Wayne's on a personal level, to the point she can argue with the youngest and not get in trouble or Adrien apparently having a room in Harley Quinn's and Poison Ivy's apartment.

[nogenderbee]

Could I request Isagi, Chigiri, Kunigami and Reo with a baker reader?

Of course! I'm sorry if it turned out a little short but I didn't had great idea for this... but I hope you will enjoy this either way!

Isagi, Chigiri, Kunigami, Reo with baker!reader

TagList: @miya-akane - come get your gentle babygirl~

⊱ when Isagi first heard of it, he was pretty excited to see or more like taste how good you are at baking

⊱ it's actually pretty easy to impress him, it's enough you bake something edible that doesn't take completely bad and he'll compliment you with no limits

⊱ if you ever need any ingredients then all you have to do is tell him that and he'll literally run to the nearest shop and get you them

⊱ if you bake something just for him, he'll melt right on the spot, like you can see his blushing face and how flustered he is because of your gesture

⊱ he'll also give you lots of love and affection, and maybe even some compliments if he won't stutter on the way

"Those are amazing! You're really good at it! T-Those were made with me on your mind?! T-that's... cute..."

⊱ Chigiri didn't mind your passion for baking, he was happy as long as you were happy, so if it's something that brings you happiness then he'll do nothing less than support you in what you're doing

⊱ maybe it's not as easy to impress him as it is to boy above, but it still is pretty easy... I'd say it's enough if you make something slightly above avarge

⊱ be ready for him to compliment your talent like nothing else matters in the world before he becomes a blushing mess after realizing his words

⊱ if you ever bake something for him, he'll be confused at first before it clicks and his face becomes even redder than his hair

⊱ although when he finally gets over it, you can see a big smile of gratitude and even tho he still stutters, he gives you even more compliments

"T-that's so amazing, really! Your talent is just incredible... Did you thought of opening bakery? I'm sure you'd be the owner of the best bakery in whole city...!"

⊱ you can't tell me that Kunigami never tried baking himself, it may have been one time or so but he did tried it

⊱ that's when he he discovered that you like baking so much, he becomes pretty interested

⊱ so he'd be more glad than anything to help you bake, he may not be the best at it but with your instructions, you can be sure he'll do his best

⊱ he's actually hard to impress, sure he'll eat and appreciate mostly all pastries but if you want to impress him then you'd have to make something REALLY good

⊱ if you bake something just for him, he'll look at you like a puppy before hugging you closely and thanking you along with giving you many compliments

⊱ the secret is that he really wants to learn how to bake to also impress you with his abilities but he can't bake well so of course he needs someone to teach him which happens to be you

"So I was thinking recently... could you teach me how to bake? We can start with something simple. I'd just like to try it."

⊱ when Reo discovered that you can bake, he immediately was cruious how good you're at it

⊱ and let me tell you instantly, he had many well made goods but if they're from you, he'd always act like it's the best thing in the whole entire world even if you give him something trashy

⊱ so even if you want to get other honest reaction, you'd probably won't see it

⊱ but if you bake something just for him, his compliments he give you normally after receiving some sweet from you multiply by 10, so good luck because he won't stop even if your face will have all shades of red

⊱ the worst part is, his face is happy while complimenting you like it's nothing, only later to realize what he said and his face becomes pink

⊱ whenever you bake something while he's around, be ready for him to give you some hugs from behind or soft kisses as he watches you with admiration

"It's amazing! Everything that you bake is always top high quality! You must bake for a long time, right?"

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

[drawingdroid]

Melting Point: Chapter II

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue | Chapter I

Chapter II: The Sculptor/Temper

Summary: You get a job offer you can't refuse and meet your new boss, a gruff sculptor who is so familiar.

Words: 2393

Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: I darlings! I hope you enjoyed Christmas if that is your thing! I'm back with a new chapter, let me know what you think because I have a lot of feelings about The Armorer being reader's thesis tutor *cries in mommy issues*. Hope you enjoy this!

That morning you so were nervous. No, terrified. Finally, you were having your first meeting with your thesis tutor, the renowned artist and professor Dr. Armorer. You admired her work so much, and her deep knowledge of Ancient Mandalorian Art was admirable. All of her books were constantly by your bedside, extensively annotated. What would your role model think of you?

Your first impression was that she commanded so much respect with only her way of standing. She insisted on meeting in the faculty’s foundry, while you had expected to talk in her office. You couldn’t get your eyes off her while she was working with the red-hot metal against her anvil. She stopped hammering when she noticed you standing awkwardly at the door.

“Welcome kid.” Her voice was flat while the visor of her safety mask was fixed into you. “I’m sorry for the scholarship.” Okay, so right to the point, no pleasantries. You shivered, feeling self-conscious, and downed your gaze to the floor. “Your proposal is magnificent and I pushed for you to be admitted, but the budget is limited and now Nevarro City is placing its interest in other departments.” After placing her tools in their place. She didn’t remove her leather gloves though.

“Thank you Dr. Armorer, I’m well aware that investing in Art has never been one of the top priorities of the governments.” Your tone came surprisingly cynical while it was sad too. Your cheeks blushed for the sudden outburst in front of the professor.

“Do you drink caf?” You nodded and she directed her attention to a little coffee maker in a corner that you hadn’t noticed earlier. Soon she handed you a steamy cup of the dark liquid. She had brewed one for herself but hadn’t lifted her golden mask to drink yet. It looked like she was studying you.

“Professor, I’m very embarrassed to admit this, but I applied to the program expecting to receive that scholarship, and without it I’m afraid cannot afford my studies,” you blurted with your gaze fixated on your drink. “I’m very sorry for having wasted your time, but…”

“What brings you to want to study Mandalorian art, kid? She interrupted mid-sentence and you swallowed hard. A heat started expanding through your veins and it wasn’t because of the coffee. It was always the same when you spoke about your passion.

“Mandalorian culture is one of the most ancient ones still alive. The artistic manifestations were present early in their history and bound intimately with the development of the technology necessary to process beskar. The importance of the clans' signets was another factor to push for a more refined technique when working the metal…”

“I didn’t ask you for the book definition of Mandalorian art. My question was why you, a non-Mandalorian, want to specifically specialize in our art.” Her tone was still flat, but commanding. Had you made her mad? Was it wrong that you wanted to study Mandalorian Art?

“The way your sculpture is so raw and naked and still conveys the most profound, earth-shattering feeling while using something as cold as beskar, turning it into living and breathing things. It’s bold and succinct, it shows and hides and that gives me goosebumps every time I look into a Mandalorian sculpture.” You didn’t want to be so passionate in your first encounter with Professor Armorer, but the fear of being rejected not only by the scholarship commission but also by her, made you snap. Your skin felt hot and your heart was hammering inside your chest.

The Armorer, as everyone called her, hummed in contentment, and then she grabbed a notepad and a pencil that had seen better days and scribbled something. 

“My friend is looking for an assistant to help him around in the studio. Since your background is in Fine Art, I think you’ll manage just fine.” She gave you the paper with only a number and address on it.  You looked at her quizzically. “The salary he offers should cover your stay here. I’ll arrange your schedule so your obligations as a PhD student are met.” You could cry with gratitude right now, even though you knew nothing about this job. “And concerning your tuition fees, let me move some strings. I can’t promise anything kid, but I may know someone who’d be interested in sponsoring you.” You could hug this woman, kiss her on her protection mask. But you stayed in your seat grabbing the mug she gave you like a lifeline.

“I can’t…I don’t know…” You babbled with watery eyes.

“I only expect the best of you kid, it’s gonna be hard work. Now go.” And then she returned to her work in the forge, leaving you trembling with excitement. 

After scrolling down some job portals, you closed your laptop with a sigh, calculating the best way to manage your savings to stretch them to the limit. With maximum frugality, you could make it through three months.

Professor Armourer had given you that mysterious number, but even though you were going to try, you didn’t want to depend 100% on her kindness. Moreover, you didn’t know which type of “studio assistant” job this would be since she provided little description. You grabbed the piece of paper and called. Nothing. You went on with your routine and tried again later, but no one responded.

Would it be too bold to just show up there? After all, your tutor had provided an address, so it was assumable it was okay if you just went there to speak to her friend in person. Like the old times, didn’t people do that? So you made up your mind and grabbed your tote bag and your trusty flannel. Slipping in some sneakers, you went outside to explore Nevarro City.

The area was definitely more industrial, certainly convenient for someone who was a metal artist, nevertheless, it had some charm to it. The warehouses were old, some of them reconverted into homes or other artist’s studios. You looked again at the paper provided by the professor when you recognized a building with large windows and a silver, old truck parked in the door as the one you were looking for. A big container with metal scraps was against one of the walls. You looked for a doorbell or something similar but nothing was in sight, so you decided to just pound the door.

Metallic sounds could be heard from the interior, and you asked yourself which kind of artist they were. After a while, you pounded the door again, it was clear they hadn't heard you. But the noise was loud and on top of that some electric guitar music was playing. You decided to make a bold move and try to open the door.

The inside was bright due to the big windows. The studio was neat and functional with all the tools one needed to work metal from small to large scale. Semi-finished projects were here and there, but it looked like everything had an order inside the warehouse. You could spot a little kitchenette too and a mattress in a cosy corner. 

The man you were looking for was working at the big wooden table that occupied the centre of the room. It looked like he was polishing a metal piece, and sparks were flying all around. The first thing you noticed was the welding mask. It was beautiful, reflecting all the little sparks like fireworks, and had a similar design to the one The Armorer wore. It was shaped like a traditional Mandalorian helmet, the one the ancient warriors once used as battle armour. You smiled to yourself.

You went closer to where he was working, being cautious to not startle him, but it looked like he hadn’t sensed your presence yet, so you just observed him. The sleeves of his work jumpsuit were rolled and you could admire how muscular his forearms were between the fabric and the leather gloves he used for protection. The zipper of his clothing piece was down until his sternum, letting you see thigh undershirt under it, revealing sculpted pecs.

Maker help me if this man is gonna be my boss.

His black visor was suddenly pointed in your direction and you almost jumped from the surprise. He had left de welder on the wooden table and lowered the volume of the music on a radio that looked as old as time and then approximated you. All his movements were slow and restrained. 

“What do you want?” He asked drily, without removing the welding mask from his face. As his friend the professor, he didn’t waste a second in pleasantries. His voice was as gruff as his looks. He didn’t look like an artist at all but a sort of mechanic or technician. 

He waited for your response with his gloved hands in his narrow hips, a leg slightly flexed. The way he carried himself made him look like a statue in a museum. He was observing you carefully, from head to toe. You noticed your mouth was dry.

“I…The Armourer sent me…because of the job…assistant.” You said finally. Perfect, you now had made a fool of yourself by speaking like you didn’t know grammar when you indeed made a living of writing. You could die of the embarrassment. 

“I told her…” He started and then sighed, lowering his broad shoulders in defeat. “Come, have a seat.” He said tilting his head towards a desk next to the large windows.

You assumed it was a desk because it was completely covered by stacks of diverse documents and you couldn’t even guess the material of the piece of furniture. You observed them as you sat in a beautiful vintage chair, while he did the same in front of you.  A lot of invoices, a PC as old as time, sketches of what looked like sculptures, sheets with budgets, newspapers, exhibition brochures. You smiled softly when you distinguished the characteristic doodles of a little kid. You kept that last info to yourself, thinking it wasn’t polite to be nosy in your first meeting.

He then looked at you like it was the first time he acknowledged your presence. His legs were wide apart, but while he looked confident you noticed he was fidgeting with his gloved fingers. What a curious man. And why was he so familiar?

“What can you do?” He asked, always the eloquent one. You looked around you for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

“Anything you need around here.” You responded, now a bit more confident. “I can operate almost every machine in this place, know the basics of wielding, and can help with molds and the foundry” He now looked more interested, bending his large body towards the table. “But for a start, I think the most urgent matter is this mess.” Sure, you were cheeky, but you needed the job, and it was obvious the man needed help with admin. You went from nervous to sassy in five minutes. “Does that even work, or is it part of an art installation?” You pointed to the PC that looked like it was stuck in the 90’s. He made a noise that could be a chuckle or a grunt.

“The Armourer sent me your CV.” 

Oh, so he knew you were coming after all.

“What makes a qualified researcher as you want to work as an assistant?” This was probably the highest number of words he had put together to this moment. His low baritone was warm and nice to hear. 

You blushed a bit. Of course, you had made your apportations, but you were only starting in the Academia even though you had some articles published. But qualified was a bit of a stretch. You could tell him the truth. That you needed to pay rent after being denied the scholarship. But that didn’t put you in a good light, especially in a job interview.

“Being a researcher, I tend to spend most of my day in my head. Manual labour grounds me.” You bit your lip a bit nervous because you had just offered a piece of personal information, even though anything in your tone revealed that you weren’t referring only to your job.

He only nodded in understanding, crossing his thick forearms over his chest. 

“You start tomorrow at 1500.” Okay, former military maybe? That was rich. And it was the shortest job interview of your life. “I usually wrap up at 2100, is that okay for you?” His voice had a kinder tone now, although sounding still gruff. You recounted mentally the bus timetable to your home and calculated it would be tight but you could make it.

“Yes, is perfect.” You offered him a big smile for the first time feeling grateful. “Thank you for the opportunity.” Then he accompanied you to the door and you realized he hadn’t provided you a name. He probably knew you from your CV though. You panicked a bit, trying to recall if Professor Armourer had told you his name but you couldn’t remember and it seemed awkward to ask now.

When you made your exit through the door, he leaned against it and you noticed he was as wide as the frame. The perks of being a sculptor, you supposed. You had to stop admiring his physique if he was going to be your boss. You arranged a bit your heavy tote bag on your shoulder and put a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” You said to the statue man. He just nodded and you awkwardly acknowledged the interaction was over, so you left with an energetic handwave while he was standing there nonchalantly. Was he observing you? Just having some fresh air? You couldn’t tell with that damned mask. You found yourself wondering how he’d look under it. But it felt weird you didn’t know your boss's name or how he looked.  You turned on your heels and gathered some courage.  He was still in the same position and you felt super awkward. “I’m sorry, I think I didn’t catch your name and it felt wrong leaving without…”

Your new boss sighed heavily, and so so slowly, started to remove his welding mask. Your jaw dropped. Those sad eyes weren’t easy to forget.

“It’s Din, Din Djarin.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @dameron-grant-spector

[beautifulphilosopherbird]

Dungeon Meshi rewatch ep 10 notes

so I always play the intro and outro because I love them so much and another thing caught my eye that might be nothing but is there a reason the women and men are reaching up, with Falin and Laios the ones in the center, and then them grasping hands? it feels meaningful anyway

ah it's the frog costumes ep hahahaha

they've reached the stairs they have to take to reach the 5th basement floor, near the orc's settlement (where the orc leader told them the red dragon was seen, hanging out and causing problems)

but the staircase is filled with tentacles so they can't just stroll down lol

Chilchuck is upset bc the tentacles mess with traps making it even harder to disarm them

KENSUKE SHOOK ALERTING THEM AGAIN but Laios didn't react fast enough and poor Kensuke got SNATCHED by froggy bad froggy let Kensuke go!

LOTS of notes for ep 10 so imma cut it off here

aw bye bye Kensuke (and Marcille's staff is called Ambrosia bye bye Ambrosia)

lol Senshi calling Chilchuck a kid again

he saves the day by using frog skin to wrap his hands so that tentacles don't hurt him smart kid hehe (sorry Chilchuck)

Marcille's weakness as a fashion girlie exposed lol

THEY'VE REACHED THE 5TH FLOOR castle town

lol the frog skin is stuck to them hahaha

(Chilchuck and Senshi's faces tho akjfiashioaghoa they look like Russian dolls help)

Namari gets motion sickness from the return spell portal thingie (bitch, same, that would totally be me, I get motion sickness from walking a little faster lol)

ahhh right right grumpy mcpants works for the "lord of the island" (ig the dungeon is on "his land"?)

hmmmmmmmmmm dwarf mines you say 👀 is that how Senshi got into the dungeon before it officially got discovered?

anyways, he's suggesting to the haughty looking dude to deploy troops in order to take care of the orc "problem"

hm lord haughtypants calls dwarfs "abominable" and says they're like moles

OH LORE ok let's see

so the dwarfs and elves were at war (no reason stated) and

not sure what that means exactly but I'm guessing the elves went to the west and the dwarfs to the east?

the dwarfs hid in the lands (where haughtypants is a lord now ig) and waited for the elves, and even after the war they continued to dig tunnels WHICH ALLEGEDLY SWALLOWED THE GOLDEN CITY AND TURNED IT INTO A DUNGEON wait wasn't that the dark evil crazy magician's work (allegedly)? hmmmmm interesting

he also says that the surviving dwarfs are responsible for the dungeon's continued expansion

grumpy mcpants says (his name is Mr Tansu just in case you think I am using the dumb nickname bc I don't remember) that rumor can't be trusted

ok so he copied a magical circle, I'm guessing before they met Senshi & friends bc afterwards they just bailed right? and it's in elvish, the same individual as before

AHA so his theory is that the crazy evil magician is an elf and these magical circles are his work, interesting (he says the work is beyond the abilities of dwarfs and tall-men)

OH EVEN MORE STUFF wow how did I manage to miss all this I'm such a clown

anyway, the western elves are sending letters now being like "the dungeon is ours we want it back" (well, our "heritage" is what they said, which is interesting bc weren't the king and Delgal tall-men?)

oh EVEN MORE INFO so they won the war with the dwarfs? bc they took the land from them and gave it to humans bc they apparently "didn't know what to do with it" (their king granted it himself even)

this evil magician, if it is an elf the only one I can think of is the crazy eyes elf from the living paintings, so I wonder if it has something to do with him

lordy mcislandpants doesn't want to give them back the island bc he wants the treasure that must still be in the depths of the dungeon lol

MAN we're getting so much lore and theories and everything now, the hamster in my brain is being pushed to his limits

grumpy mcpants says that the elves aren't after the treasure but the immortality spelll that's been cast on the dungeon (that does seem more valuable lol)

he tells mr lord to get his hands on the blueprint of the spell before they do and then he'll finally be treated as an equal, or even their superior

he says the lord of the dungeon possesses it (is that the evil magician or does he mean whoever "beats" the dungeon?), and tells him to keep supporting adventurers and not to cut down prices for hunting monsters etc

oh he'll issue a reward for taking down the orcs (that does not sound good)

ah yeahh I remember, Namari goes to the resurrection office and she asks about Falin (no luck of course)

on the 5th floor, outside the golden castle is the castle town (now abandoned and in ruins)

right, so Laios did mention that the red dragon is supposed to hunt once a month and then sleep until the next hunt but this red dragon has been active nonstop, even going as far as getting the orcs to flee their settlement which Marcille finds odd (but it's also no good for Falin bc she's getting digested faster)

aw cute detail look at Shuro all blushy as he's looking at Falin here hahaha

fun fact: the weak spot of a dragon is the underside of his neck

there she goes again saying her protective magic isn't as powerful as Falin's. She was the best in school, right? It's making it seem like something either happened to her or the school didn't have any good students in it hahaha I mean, I don't really have anyone else to compare her to (besides Falin who is apparently better than her in everything magic related) so I can't tell if it's just normal for her not to be able to do this stuff or what.

ALSO not me just realising Falin is a tall-(wo)man and aren't tall-men supposed to be weaker in magic than elves by default? hm

listening to their plan of trapping the dragon now after I know what happens makes me think that they should have known this wouldn't work out. they're all humanfailures

hmmmm I don't think anyone has mentioned this before but where are dragons normally bc apparently not on the 5th floor lol my guess is lower? hm does that mean something chased it up, like the orcs were chased up by the dragon WAIT IS WHAT SENSHI WAS TALKING ABOUT ACTUALLY HAPPENING????? Did something fuck up the ecosystem? 👀

Senshi guarding his special knife hehehe

and oop the red dragon is here

random screengrabs:

them in Mr Tansu's imagination tho LOL

Idk about you but I ship Senshi x bread 100%

same Chilchuck, same

paused and laughed

his timing is impeccable truly I love him

[justplainwhump]

Hope

A little follow up to Noor's last scene, before I move on.

Noor learns new truths.

Content: BBU, very early recovery, conditioned whumpee offering sex to caretaker (turned down)

The woman who'd guided him into the red car with him was still there. Rather tall, about Noor's own height, slim build but notable muscles around shoulders and arms. There was a slightly dangerous air around her, even when she smiled. It made him nervous.

She'd talked to the driver, quietly, quickly, in a language he didn't understand, and all he knew is that she was angry, and quite a bit worried.

She had fallen quiet now, looked back at him from the passenger seat, dark honey eyes taking him in.

"I can," he assured her softly, without her having asked for it. There was only one thing anyone wanted of him, anyway. "I am specifically trained to please men, but my skills are surely sufficient to give you a good time, too. Maybe together with your partner?" Noor tilted his head toward the driver, a bulky man with a constant frown on an otherwise soft face. The type Noor liked most. He could almost feel these arms around him, this mouth hot on his skin. "I'm sure I can help him unwind." His voice had dropped to a seductive whisper, just the way he'd been taught. Just the way that always worked.

Not now.

The man glanced into the rear view mirror. Deep, dark eyes. Noor bit his lip and smiled. "It wouldn't make me unwind," the man said plainly. His voice resonated deep within Noor's body. "It would make me very uncomfortable."

Noor let out a small laugh, soft and airy, the way that could hide the deep confusion underneath. He'd never been turned down by another man. And now, the second time within one night. The handler in the house hadn't had enough time, Noor could understand that, even though a quick fuck like that could've been over in less than five minutes. This man here, though, could have all the time in the world with Noor.

Maybe he was straight? But many of his clients were, or claimed to be, and they still fucked him all the same. "I can be whatever you want. I can make your wildest dreams come true."

Noor eased himself back in the seat and ran a hand through his long hair, brushing it over his shoulder, as he searched for the other man's gaze in the mirror, eyes slightly veiled behind his long lashes.

It didn't work. The man just focused back on the street. "We can't take him to the safe house yet," he said to the woman. "They're at their limit already with the rescues from the last job. I don't think they can handle this one. He'll be a problem around men."

"Men don't have any problems with me," Noor purred and pushed up his body on the back seat, desperately wishing for another body to settle down close to his. "On the contrary. I make them forget any of their problems."

They wouldn't throw him out, surely, he hoped. He wouldn't need to be alone and on the run tonight. He couldn't.

"You're right. I'll take him," the woman said flatly.

Noor covered his sudden disappointment with a renewed smile. It didn't sound nice. It didn't sound like she wanted him at all. But he needed to be wanted. He was made to be wanted. All the clients, at WRU, and at the shady walking house downtown, they had wanted him. He lived, he'd survived, because he'd been wanted.

He stared at the car door next to him. The nightly city was rushing past in streaks of light in front of darkness. He thought about his chances. He'd get hurt, rolling himself out. They'd find him again. If not them - why should they, if neither of them wanted him? - then the handlers from the raid. This time, he might not be able to run. But it was his only chance. To find someone who actually wanted-

"Hey." A hand rested on his forearm. The woman had turned on her seat entirely to face him. Her hand was warm. "I'm Marta," she said. "What can I call you?"

Her touch made him shiver. Her skin was warm, a little sweaty maybe, in the damp heat of the summer night. Noor didn't mind.

"Noor," he said softly. "It means light."

Marta smiled. "Okay, Noor. You don't need to be afraid."

He wasn't, he thought. There was only one thing he feared, and that was white and monotonous and cold.

She looked at the door handle knowingly. "Or whatever the feeling is that makes you leave. You're allowed to leave, Noor. You can just tell us, and we'll drop you anywhere. We don't want to own you."

He blinked once, before he laughed again, in the inviting way that he was so good at, hoping to find an unsuspicious reply. He couldn't. It didn't make sense. He didn't want to be owned, but neither did he want not to told what to do. He didn't want to stay with them, if they didn't want him, but he didn't want to be alone, either. There was no place he could go. No place he'd even understand.

"You can come with me, I'll set you up with a bed, and I'll buy you a pizza. And we'll talk about finding a place for you."

Was he so easy to read? Noor had always prided himself for his skills at understanding what his clients desired. But he'd never thought someone would even bother trying to understand what was going on inside of him.

A place for you.

A place for Noor, for himself.

The words made him feel warm.

"But you don't want me," he whispered.

"I don't want you," Marta repeated slowly. "As in, I don't want your body, or your service. But I want something for you."

"What?"

"A life," she said.

This time, Noor didn't laugh.

He just fell silent, when she sat back in her seat and faced forward, and the man steered through the dark side alleys of a nice neighbourhood Noor had never seen.

Both of them said nothing. And in return, Noor. didn't touch the door again.

He spun the words in his head.

A life. A place for you.

It made no sense.

But in the most beautiful way.

"I'd like that," he whispered eventually, so quiet the people wouldn't hear him over the noises of the car.

It didn't matter. He'd said it to himself, anyways. And to his surprise, it felt like the truth.

-

---

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[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "The Occupation"

We return one final time to Lothal for the beginning of the end.

Live reaction version.

God, Ezra looks and sounds so stressed. He's nearly at his breaking point when it comes to waiting for the Alliance to help Lothal, hell, even just for news on Lothal. He probably feels like the Alliance has abandoned his people and even if he nominally understands that everywhere is suffering and there are so many other worlds that need help it still hurts that he can't do anything for his planet and people.

Is it a little bit selfish of him? Maybe. But also the Alliance wasn't taking the TIE Defender project nearly as seriously as they should have, if nothing else they should have been replanning the Lothal attack for that ASAP.

A lovely undercurrent this episode is just how concerned for/over Ezra Sabine is, and this is the first instance, her gaze lingering after him when he turns in his seat glumly.

Pretty Yavin is pretty.

Mon offering Ezra the chance to go back to Lothal is pretty much the best solution she could have given him. It's relevant and important to the Alliance, since it involves the TIE Defenders, and it gives Ezra the opportunity to help his people he's been so desperately after. It even works out that the Alliance won't be able to extract them because Ezra is perfectly willing to stay behind Imperial lines there. Which I think Mon knew. She only sounds a little mildly disappointed that the WHOLE Ghost crew is going, likely because Hera's proven to be such a good squad leader and pilot and it would suck to lose contact with her.

But she accepts their decision anyway.

Love that we bring so many characters back for the final season. Hi Vizago!

Rex and Zeb needed to interact more, especially if we get hilarious exchanges like this.

A moment of appreciation for their disguises

And oof that is a visual gutpunch. Ruined Lothal looks almost hellish. Red replaces blue and amber, fires and smoke burn constantly.

The last time we saw Lothal, the mining crawlers hadn't begun stripping the surface of the planet yet, so this gives us a sense of just how much the Empire was ramping up its production. I don't even think they limited it to the factories in Capital City, probably built more facilities in cities all over the planet just to accommodate the workload.

In any case, it's no wonder the Loth-wolves decided to reemerge. This kind of ecological devastation is absolutely certain to arouse the wrath of ancient nature planet-guardians.

And they've built orbital construction stations too, ngl, I'm pretty sure that was deliberate in order to visually remind us of the first time we saw Geonosis. Perhaps to invoke the same sense of borrowed time? Because with how thoroughly they're sucking the planet dry, even if Palpatine hadn't pulled the TIE Defender funding, Lothal would not have been able to sustain that level of production for long. The planet would have become a broken, polluted, empty husk.

:(((((((

Once again Star Wars leaning heavily on the Nature vs. Careless Industrialization theme. (Like half the Visions shorts feature it to some degree, I'm not surprised.)

Right so even though they didn't find Rebels on Vizago's ship, they arrested him anyway because of the pufferpigs and gang-pressed him to work on a mining crawler.

Rebels said government stifling of private industry is unjust. Again. Lol.

Jhothal does not have the countless "occupied territory" holobanners, but it does have video propaganda service announcements playing constantly.

"The Empire wouldn't do anything to Old Jho. The people wouldn't stand for it." Ohhh honey you would be surprised just how much tyranny the average person is capable of tolerating. Also that's probably why they have an enforced curfew now.

We now begin the portion of the episode that I affectionately call the Sabezra Bar Date. XD

Aaaaaand another visual gutpunch. I had to go back and check but even the lighting and paint have been changed to a standard, washed out Imperial gray. Also note that there are no civilians (at least until Jai reveals he's there). This is no longer a functioning small business serving the local community, it's a state-run facility servicing members of the state.

It's sickening.

There is so much arm-touching this episode I was spoiled.

No but seriously, has Sabine ever been this physically touchy with him? She's already hyper-aware of how upset he is about Lothal, perhaps the constant comfortable touching is a way to comfort and reassure him?

-snrk- Still hilarious how they brought back Baron Valen Rudor. For once the Rebels do not ruin his day personally.

"We don't get many civilians in here anymore." Hey. Hey maybe it's because you're a bar and there's a curfew enforced so civilians can't get to the place. Just a thought.

RIP Jho, godspeed.

Head empty, no thoughts, just Kanera. And maybe a little bit the "You could always see me."/Sabine Sees Ezra parallels.

Love this subtle moment so much. Sabine noticing immediately how Ezra's hands curling into tight fists on the counter, gently touching his arm to calm him, get his attention before he does something rash.

Even when they turn to go she puts her hand back around his wrist, holding onto him, anchoring him. <333333

IIIIIIIIII thought there was a curfew in effect are they just going to let the kids... leave?

(Perhaps "going home" is one of the few valid reasons to be out after curfew?)

Jai did, ah... not age well.

FHKASJFHAKS EVEN IN CIVILIAN CLOTHES EZRA GETS PICKED ON BY TROOPERS JEEZ.

Love how even when given the opportunity to divide forces a different way Ezra and Sabine just naturally gravitate to the same team. <3

Also love that the Lothal rebels adapted Sabine's starbird as their callsign. Not to be all Other Fandom Parallels but it makes me think of how the other Districts started marking things with the mockingjay in Hunger Games.

The little wall-bounce parkour and twirl Ezra does taking out that one probe. <3

The despair in Ezra's voice here. Taylor makes it sound like Ezra's about to cry,

Sabine immediately reaching out to him. <3

Again with the touching, this time with bonus talking him out of his negative self-spiral, repeating his own words of hope back to him.

Badass family shot. <3

That Extra little twirl Ezra does as he bats down one last blaster bolt. <3

The beginning of Ryder's misgivings about their chances. Honestly, it definitely feels like the Alliance has mostly given up on Lothal and considers it a lost cause, because even with the proof that the Defender is going to absolutely wreck havoc on them in space combat they still need to be talked into attacking the factories by Hera.

So yeah, understanding Saw and Ezra's frustrations with the bureaucracy of it.

"We've done it before. We can do it again." Help I am thinking back to how Ezra remotivated himself in "Path of the Jedi". "Yeah... again. Been alone before, survived, I can survive this." *sobs*

Apparently Sabine's pep talk worked. :)

Ahhhhh I love this episode so much! The music is great, the animation has lovely subtle soft moments, the action setpieces have so many nice little unique bits (Zeb dragging that probe along the wall was great) and even if seeing Lothal in such bad shape hurts it emphasizes how badly the Spectres are needed.

Ezra did need to return home because, as it turns out, he and Kanan are the only two ones who can actually save Lothal.

Up next, romantic wolf rides! I mean what?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Jujutsu Kaisen Characters + Sad song's.

Pairing: Yuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso, Hiromi,Kusakabe

A/n: Spoilers

I was in your arms

Thinking I belonged there

I figured it made sense

Building me a fence

Building me a home

Thinking I'd be strong there

But I was a fool

Playing by the rules

•

But tell me, does she kiss

Like I used to kiss you?

Does it feel the same

When she calls your name?

Somewhere deep inside

You must know I miss you

But what can I say?

Rules must be obeyed

↳Kusakabe

《

《

I'd take another chance, take a fall

Take a shot for you

And I need you like a heart needs a beat

But it's nothing new, yeah yeah

I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue

And you say sorry like the angel

Heaven let me think it was you

But I'm afraid

It's too late to apologize, it's too late

I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late, whoa

↳Geto.

《

《

I miss you

Miss you so bad

I don't forget you

Oh, it's so sad

I hope you can hear me

I remember it clearly

The day you slipped away

Was the day I found it won't be the same, oh-oh

I didn't get around to kiss you

Goodbye on the hand

I wish that I could see you again

I know that I can't

↳Nanami

《

《

Until I hit the city limits, 'til I hit the state line

'Til I reach a coast, or a ghost town a thousand miles out

Keep this needle hittin' 90

'Til your memory can't find me anyhow

Keep the pedal down

'Til I see some taillights that don't make me think of you

'Til I'm pulled over on the shoulder by some flashin' blue lights

'Til this heart forgets to break

I don't care if it takes me all night

I'm gonna drive you outta my mind

↳Hiromi

《

《

I miss those blue eyes

How you kissed me at night

I miss the way we sleep

Like there's no sunrise

Like the taste of your smile

I miss the way we breathe

But I never told you

What I should have said

No, I never told you

I just held it in

And now I miss everything about you

I can't believe that I still want you

After all the things we've been through

I miss everything about you

Without you, whoa

I see your blue eyes

Every time I close mine

You make it hard to see

Where I belong to when I'm not around you

It's like I'm not with me

↳Gojo

《

《

I need a do-over, how did we end up this way?

I'm so confused, lover, did I mistake love and pain?

Ain't got no shine left, I couldn't hide it

I almost lost all my light, and

I didn't choose sober, but my eyes can't look away

I see our true colors, lately, we've been lookin' gray

I can't turn back now, 'cause you'd take me back down

That road that always seems to come right back around

Remember when

We had dreams to fly away?

But that was then

And now our story's just a page

Like a wave, you're always crashin' into me, crashin' into me

And these days are harder than they used to be, and they used to be

No shootin' stars can fix what we aren't, and

What good's a lighthouse when the light is burnin' out?

↳Megumi

《

《

I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show

And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control

But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain

To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain

From my eyes

Tonight I want to cry

Would it help if I turned a sad song on

"All By Myself" would sure hit me hard now that you're gone

Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters

It's gonna hurt bad before it gets better

But I'll never get over you by hidin' this way

↳Toji

《

《

But I don't care what they say

I'm in love with you

They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth

My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing

You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love

I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love

You cut me open

Oh yeah

Trying hard not to hear, but they talk so loud

Their piercing sounds fill my ears, try to fill me with doubt

Yet I know that their goal is to keep me from falling, hey, oh

But nothing's greater than the rush that comes with your embrace

And in this world of loneliness, I see your face

Yet everyone around me thinks that I'm going crazy

Maybe, maybe

↳Sukuna.

《

《

They took you away on a table

I pace back and forth as you lay still

They pull you in to feel your heartbeat

Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right

I swear to love you all my life

Hold on, I still need you

I don't wanna let go

I know I'm not that strong

I just wanna hear you

Saying, "Baby, let's go home"

Let's go home

Yeah, I just wanna take you home

↳Choso

《

《

This is the place where I sit

This is the part where I love you too much

This is as hard as it gets

'Cause I'm getting tired of pretending I'm tough

I'm here if you want me

I'm yours, you can hold me

I'm empty and achin'

And tumblin' and breakin'

'Cause you don't see me

And you don't need me

And you don't love me

The way I wish you would

The way I know you could

I dream a world where you understand

That I dream a million sleepless nights

Well I dream a fire when you're touching my hand

But it twists into smoke when I turn on the lights

I'm speechless and faded,It's too complicated

Is this how the book ends,Nothing but good friends?

↳Yuji