#5 hours sounds legit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugurusdiscordmoderator · 2 months

Note

Halo bby! <3

Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔

hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)

Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:

I didn’t proof read this my apologies

MDNI

cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.

—

You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!

‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’

After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.

But oh, you could not relate.

After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.

Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks

“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.

“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.

“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”

Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.

“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.

“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”

You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.

“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.

You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.

Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.

He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.

Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.

While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.

That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.

“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.

You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.

You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.

“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”

Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉

You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.

You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.

“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.

“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.

Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!

“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.

“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.

You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.

“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.

“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.

“No baby, I want to face the other way.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.

You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.

Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.

Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”

Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.

“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”

“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.

You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.

“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.

“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.

“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.

“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?

You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.

“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.

His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”

Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”

You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.

Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.

“Say it again…” he moans.

“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.

“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.

“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck

“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,

“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.

Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.

“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.

“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before

“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.

“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.

His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…

“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!

You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.

“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.

“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.

Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.

He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.

“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.

You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.

“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.

“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.

He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.

“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.

Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.

You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.

“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.

You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.

“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.

You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.

You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”

His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”

You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”

“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.

“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.

You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.

Dear Doctor Yeager,

Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.

- world famous Satoru Gojo

he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk requests #sugurusdiscordmoderator

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dear-bunnyboo · 1 year

Text

❝Ice Royalty || Jack Hughes❞

my baby Jacky won the poll i put up last night!! this is my first nhl fic here on tumblr so i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

this scenario was actually anonymously requested but i am an idiot and accidentally deleted that person’s request sooo if you are the one who requested for a figure skater!reader, this one is for you. i hope you enjoy it, love.

should i make this a series? comment if you want a part 2 ;)

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: What happens when New Jersey Devils’ star player meets Olympic female figure skating champion?

Warnings: cursing, fluff, first meeting awkwardness, teasing, some light flirting

Series Masterlist || NHL Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Jack mentally groaned as he tried to get rid of the sleep in his system.

The Devils had their usual morning skate but today was the earliest one they’ve ever had. Why? Because according to their team coach— they have been slacking off lately. This usually happens once the team gets back from off season, still hung up over their break.

They would usually get use to the flow of everything pretty quickly before the start of the season but that was proven futile when they lost their first two games.

So here they were, 5 in the morning in full gear walking out of the locker room slightly sluggish.

Jack was quietly twirling his hockey stick as they pile out of the tunnel, but before they could reach the ice they were met with music filling the arena, camera crew surrounding the ice as they followed a woman who was gliding across the ice.

“Excuse me, but what is happening here?” Nico the team’s captain ask the man who stood by the glass watching the production crew.

“I’m sorry but we have booked the rink for this hour for Ms. Y/N Y/L/N’s special on NBC News. We are about to wrap up our last take, if your team can wait for a while that would be great.” Said the man who they were assuming to be the director.

“That was stunning, Y/N! Let’s do that again and then we can wrap up and do the interviews.”

Y/N Y/L/N

Jack swears he knows that name from somewhere, he just can’t seem to know where from.

“Her name sounds familiar” he stated as they proceeded to settle down on the benches where they were directed to stay, they had a clear view of the woman in red who’s back was turned towards them as they touched up her hair and makeup.

“Y/N Y/L/N won gold for figure skating at the Olympics just a month ago.” Dawson piped in as he proceeded to attempt to fix the mess that sat on top of his head.

“She’s legit.” said Luke

Before Jack could even question his brother over the sudden knowledge over professional figure skating his thoughts were cut off by the director yelling.

“Roll Camera… Roll sound… Action!”

And on cue the same music played across the arena. The woman who Jack now know as Y/N started moving gracefully— her arms elongated in front of her as she glided across the ice before jumping high up and spinning and landing without breaking a sweat.

Y/N was laser focused on her routine, the music controlling her body as she continued with her jumps. She slid in front of the bench focusing on her form before pulling through and doing a quad jump and landing successfully gaining her the same euphoric feeling she always feels when doing so.

After doing her last jumps and turns she ended her piece with her last post.

“Cut! That was fantastic, Y/N darling. Take a quick break and then we can start the interviews inside you’re dressing room.” The director instructed before hastily directing the crew to pack up and move inside.

Y/N skated towards her manager and mom who happened to be her coach— they were waiting for her by the benches with her stuff.

“That was amazing as usual, Y/N. You’re mom and I need to look over the questions for the interview, so get dressed and we will meet you at dressing room in an hour or so.” She explained before answering another call.

“You were perfect, my love. Now hurry up get dressed I need to make sure they don’t ask you dumb questions.”

Y/N simply chuckled as she walked off the ice to put on her skate guards on. Once she was done packing up her stuff, she walked towards the direction of her dressing room but before she could a gaggle of hockey players started to clap.

Turning around to face the players who were all sporting their hockey gear, she was met with cheers and praises from the guys causing her cheeks to turn red from the attention.

The guys were now running towards the ice not after giving her a nod or a praise.

“You were amazing.” Said Jack as he neared her.

Facing the brunette she gave him one of her best smiles.

“Thank you, I’ve been doing this my entire life so I better be amazing.” She said jokingly making Jack chuckle.

Now that Jack was in front of her, he marveled over her presence— Jack stared at every single freckle, every glitter on her face before landing on her eyes which was watching him amused.

“Well, I have to go. I still have lots to do.” Y/N chuckled as she turned to move to her dressing room.

Jack finally got out of his daze, mentally slapping himself in the face for potentially creeping the poor girl out by staring at her like a creep.

“Do you even watch hockey?” He yelled to her

“Excuse me?” Y/N turned back around her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

I sounded like a fucking asshole Jack said mentally.

“That’s not what I meant. I-I mean it is what i meant but not the way it sounded— I mean, do you watch hockey?” He rambled.

“Oh yeah, I do. Grew up watching it because of my younger brothers— they play hockey too” Y/N smiles. Jack pretty much almost melted on the spot.

“No way? Really?”

“Yeah, they are part of the USA Development Program— they’ll be drafted soon.” Y/N praises her younger brothers as Jack watched her in amusement

Unbeknownst to him, his teammates were watching him in amusement as well.

“That’s so cool, wait so if you grew up watching hockey that means you know–” Jack finishes by pointing at himself.

“I do know who you are, Jack” she chuckles.

“Oh, well I wouldn’t have known cause you didn’t come up and–”

“Scream and begged for a picture and an autograph? I could if you’re into that sorta thing.” She cuts him off slightly teasing him which Y/N found entertaining.

“No! I didn’t mean that. Fuck, I probably sound like an ass.” He sighs rubbing his neck.

“You don’t. It’s cool, you are cool.” Y/N maintained eye contact the entire conversation slightly intimidating Jack in the process.

“I really need to go, Jack. It was nice meeting you.” She said checking her phone before smiling back at him again.

“Yeah yeah, I’m sorry for holding you up, but before you go–” he said before mustering up the courage to ask her, “would you want to come to our game this weekend? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Y/N simply giggled and smirked at him.

“What makes you think I don’t have a ticket already?”

“You do?” He asked shocked.

“I do. Now, you’re teammates have been watching us for a while now, they must be waiting for you. Practice hard and score for me on Saturday.” She winked before walking away from the now astounded hockey player.

“Told you she’s legit.” Luke skated towards him laughing at his face in the process.

She’s legitimately gonna be his end. Jack knows it.

dividers: @cafekitsune

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-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

#jack hughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #new jersey devils #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey

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phantomrose96 · 1 year

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Welcome to Renting in a Big City!!! Come with me! Let me walk you through your options!

First I cannot recommend enough one of these new-construction luxury apartment complexes! The amenities are killer and the maintenance is lightning-fast. Your apartment? This rectangular box with three interior walls. We don't like the term "studio" as much as "open concept." It's 400 sqft and the rent will increase 12% year over year (or maybe 30% 😉) once we start attracting all the rich people we want, and also if you attempt to move out at any moment that's not the exact end of your lease (with 60 days notice to not renew) then we'll charge you a 2-months-rent lease breaking fee.

Okay not your style? Don't worry we've got plenty of options in cozy residential areas within the city! Like this apartment! The building was built 150 years ago and the landlord is an 80 year old man who lives 7 states away and insists you mail him your rent every month since technology scares him. Need something fixed? No worries your landlord has great connections to a guy who knows a guy who has a son who's held a hammer once. He's very busy though so please give him 2 or 3 months to respond to anything. The ants were here first and they have squatters rights now so no you can't call maintenance about that.

Oh sorry I wasn't listening--both of those options are 2.5x your budget? No worries no worries I've got plenty of stuff in your price range. THIS beautiful place is only 40 minutes outside the city (2.5 hours in traffic, which is always). It's a modern-concept renovated shed and your neighborhood is the sad industrial remains of concrete and shattered dreams. The broker's fee for this is 5x rent. The construction outside your bedroom window has been going for 5 years, but it MIGHT be finished tomorrow? That's what we told the guy 5 years ago. (We do already have 7 applications for this place, so please decide quickly.)

Okay okay okay, I see the look on your face, not your style. You're a roommate kinda guy, yeah? Of course you are. Everyone is! (Not by choice.) Plenty of opportunities on Facebook and Craigslist to fill in a roommate slot! Just keep clear of rookie mistakes and you'll be golden. Rookie mistake #1: falling for a malicious scam which will take first last and security from you before vanishing into the night. Easy mistake. The best way to avoid it is to don't do it. Stay suspicious of any place pressuring you to make a decision quickly, which is all of them, including the legit places! Rookie mistake #2: signing in to the most batshit abusive and unstable roommate situation you've seen in your life, which the guy you're taking the lease over from was selling his soul to escape. You'll be WISHING you had the ant roommates then haha. We have fun here.

Man you're not looking excited :( that's bumming me out. Okay okay, something a little outside the box? You can get a room for SUPER cheap in this mansion right at the heart of the city, you just kinda need to join the cult that's living there. You can--oh wait what? Oh man, turns out the cult is selling the building :( yeah sounds like they're on hard financial times because they're the cult Shinzo Abe was assassinated over :( real sad. We DO still have a cool Mormon co-op if you--

#fun fact the last paragraph is 100% true #chrissy speaks

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quillium · 2 years

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Bruce Wayne has anxiety and he’s going to make that Literally Everyone’s problem

Bruce setting trust funds and retirement funds for his kids as soon as he adopts them with WAY too much money

Alfred: Master Wayne why does your nine-year-old have $1 million in their trust fund Bruce: You never know when you might need that money. What if inflation jumps? What if they get scammed? What if they just make bad financial decisions? They need enough to be prepared for ANYTHING

Bruce who has enough money and bad enough impulse control that as soon as he has a Bad Thought he immediately follows up on mitigating it

Bruce’s Anxiety Brain at 2am: WHAT IF A SHARK EATS OUR ARM Bruce: I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO DEAL WITH SUDDEN BLOOD LOSS, RE-BALANCING WITH ONE ARM, AND LEARNING TO DO EVERYTHING WITH ONLY ONE ARM

Please note that Gotham is far from any body of water, let alone one large enough to have a shark, of all things

Bruce is actually great at cooking but he’s so obsessive about making things Fancy and Perfect that it will legit take him like. 5 hours to make a single serving of food and he will take over the ENTIRE kitchen and use up ALL THE UTENSILS

Bruce’s cell phone has fifty alarms active on a good day. There’s one every hour to remind him to drink a class of water, one once a week to remind him of his weekly dinners with [x friend], one every morning to remind him to text each child, one to remind him to brush his teeth, one to--

Bruce has different sounds for different alarms. Water alarm is a water sound, dinner meetings for business have this sound, brushing teeth has that sound, texting has this sound, and--

Bruce who has to sit by himself for a whole day alone before his child gets their report card so he can figure out how to react. If he’s not strong enough, the kid might think school isn’t important and not work hard and then fail their courses and not learn the importance of hard work and not get a job and fail and that’s okay but what if Bruce dies and the kid is scammed out of their inheritance and then they become homeless and can’t get a job because they didn’t get a high school diploma and--

But also what if Bruce is too strong and the pressure becomes too high and the kid thinks that Bruce cares more about their grade than them and they feel unloved and get massive anxiety and then get to college and burn out and depressed and are unwilling to turn to Bruce for support because they think he doesn’t love them and--

In the end Bruce just goes “Hn”, nods, and walks away. His kids are left like ??? ??? what does that mean, Bruce, please use WORDS

TL;DR Batman is only this competent because his massive anxiety, wealth, and free time makes him prepared for a Stupid Amount of things

Part 2

#dc #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #part 2 is coming soon!!!#i know i always say that and i know i'm always lying but. lmao. yeah.

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maknaeswrld · 8 months

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there | h.js

I'm thinking about you, in this place without you, in this placе where we usеd to be together, I still think of you all the time

wc: 7.4k

genre: childhood best friends to strangers to ???; gn!reader; idiots in love; fluff; angst.

cw: slight mentions of parenthood (they’re not parents); mentions of marriage; broken promises?; secrets; paced throughout the entirety of their career up to date (2023); panic attack; roomies are based of my irls; Eve actually has amazing luck and gets her bias in legit every single album; was not initially inspired by There, that song just really freaking fits this story

roadmap: starts in present; jumps back to pre-debut; tracks readers perspective throughout the years; ends back in present (The SOUND + 5 Star era)

Friendships don’t always end because of things you can’t come back from, they don’t always end in a spectacular burst of harsh words and emotions. A majority of the time, they end due to distance, fizzling slowly until it dies out all together, people with shared memories and experiences becoming virtual strangers.

But should that mean the promises you made to one another should die along with it?

You had never thought so, which is what brought you to this crowded stadium, standing amongst people who are a little too much like you, watching the man that you once knew better than you knew yourself performing, shining brighter than the sun.

Han Jisung was where he was meant to be, doing what he loved with friends that get to share the experience. Friends that are important to him and you believe always will be. Unlike you.

Sure, the version of you he last knew all those years ago is likely still a fond memory to him, you’re sure he thinks about you at least every once in a while, wonders what you’re doing now—at least you hope he does.

Truth is, being an idol doesn’t leave space for that kind of stuff. It��s isolating work; family, friendships outside of your members and other idols, a private life, it’s hard to maintain, which is why you never took it personally when the daily calls turned to weekly texts, monthly updates, and eventually nothing at all.

There were times you were tempted to message him, tell him you’re proud of him, that you miss him. But frankly, you don’t even know if he still has your number, or if the one you have is still his.

The albums littering your bookshelf that you had bought and spent hours listening to together had been joined by untouched copies of basically any Stray Kids album you could get your hands on. His photocards were now littered amongst the polaroids and cut up school yearbook pictures the two of you decorated your old bedroom walls with, all of them somehow surviving your move to America.

Sometimes you wonder what he’d think if he’d see your room now. The Jisung you knew would’ve joked with you, asking if you were secretly in love with him or if you just finally accepted he was the prettier best friend. But the Jisung in the photocards was a stranger to you. You felt more like a fan, a fellow Stay harboring a parasocial relationship with eight boys that you’ll likely never speak to, than you did an old friend.

But you were content with it all. Your best friend will always be your best friend, even if you never have another movie night with asinine amounts of junk food. Even if you never again get to see his unruly curls in the midday lighting as you eat breakfast together at lunch time. Even if your children only ever know him by your stories and his stage persona.

Promises were sacred to you, so even when you are painfully aware you’re no longer his best friend, you keep the promise you made all those years ago to your best friend. You support him with no question or hesitation. So when you heard Stray Kids were performing in your city, you didn’t hesitate to buy the overpriced ticket.

````

“How crazy would it be if Chan-hyung’s idea actually works? Think about it, your best friend could be an idol someday!”

You laughed at his quiet excitement. During his time at JYP Entertainment as a trainee, you’d grown fond of his two friends, Chan and Changbin, having quickly become 3Racha’s first fan and biggest supporter.

“I can’t wait to tell interviewers embarrassing stories from your childhood.”

“Go right ahead, you were by my side for all of them so they’re your embarrassing stories too!”

The both of you laughed, knowing he was right, and while the banter continued on like that, discussing the what if’s of Chan’s success, you couldn’t help but start to wonder where you’d truly fit into the narrative.

Bang Chan had gotten tired of sitting on the sidelines, patiently waiting his turn, quietly holding his breath every time groups were formed, hoping his name would be amongst them. You knew he’d been there longer than anyone, he likely knew more people in the industry personally than you could hope to even as a fan, and he knew how to have a successful group, he’d seen enough of them come out of his time as a trainee. So you hadn’t been shocked when Jisung had told you about his idea and he systematically started hand picking eight other trainees and approaching them with it, starting with Jisung and Changbin.

You hadn’t officially met the others Chan had chosen, but you had seen them practicing when you brought Jisung his lunch that he had forgotten at your place.

For a rag tag group thrown together by a trainee, they were pretty good already and you could see them being very successful one day.

````

“You’re gonna come to all our shows, right?”

Jisung was starting to get nervous about the plan. It’s been going well thus far, they had been chosen to debut but were now being put through the ringer to ensure they were to the companies standards.

The boys had barely taken any breaks since being tasked with composing and choreographing a song entirely by themselves. You’d heard Jisung practicing non-stop, even while you were supposed to be having movie night. You knew he was more nervous than he’d own up to, but you also knew when he set his mind to something, he’d see it through to the end.

“All of them sounds unrealistic, Ji.” He pouted at your response, obviously disappointed. You just chuckled and shook your head. “How about this, I pinky promise swear that no matter what, I will attend every single show put on, in my area. Okay? Even if we get into some devastating argument and never talk again, even if we somehow lose communication and haven’t spoken in years, even if we get married and I four rugrats to deal with, I’ll be at every single one near me. Deal?” You held your pinky out for him to link his with.

“Three things. One, are you in love with me or something? You want my kids, Y/n/n~?” You both laughed as he teased you, tickling your sides, before he got serious. “Secondly, I’ll never let either of those other things happen. Ever. You’re my best friend. Nothing, not even becoming an idol, is going to change that. You are so stuck with me for the rest of your miserable life.”

“Does that mean marriage isn’t off the table for you?” You interrupted him, attempting to tease him back.

“If it means never losing you, I’ll put a ring on it right here, right now.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the complete sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re never gonna lose me either way, Ji.” You said softly, watching as his face softened before he finally linked his pinky with yours.

“Then every show near you sounds good enough for me.” He kissed the back of your hand, pinkies still linked together, and you kissed his, sealing the promise.

````

The crowd held its breath as they awaited the final judgment on the fate of Stray Kids.

You didn’t know Minho or Felix very well at all, having only spent a handful of short lived conversations in each others company, but the way Jisung had cried until he passed out and slept through the night on your couch after Minho had been eliminated from the group, and then shortly after did it again for Felix, you didn’t have to know them personally to know you needed all nine boys to be accepted. Stray Kids were nine, and you didn’t think you could accept it any other way.

So to say the relief and joy you felt at the announcement that they would debut as nine felt all consuming would probably be an understatement. All you wanted to do was drag the boys into a big hug and congratulate them.

As they finally left the stage, you couldn’t hold yourself back from running to meet a relieved and ecstatic Jisung.

“We did it!” He yelled, catching you in his arms and swinging you around. He set you down, his hands moving to cup both sides of your face, squishing your cheeks gently and shaking you. “We actually did it, Y/n/n! We’re debuting!”

“I know Ji, I saw.” You laughed, returning his gesture. You quickly made your rounds, congratulating the rest of the boys and hugging Minho and Felix tightly, before returning to Jisungs side and joining them for their celebrations.

````

The boys got pretty busy pretty fast after that and the time spent with your best friend decreased rapidly, but he always texted you every chance he got and would call or skype you as he was settling down for the night. Oftentimes, his phone would get high-jacked and passed around through his members while his protests could be heard in the background. You weren’t as close with the rest of them as you were with Jisung, but they had quickly become your boys and you couldn’t be prouder of all of them and prouder to call them your friends.

Which just made it hurt all the worse when the nightly chaos calls slowly turned into weekly at best calls.

You understood, you wouldn’t feel like a very good friend if you didn’t, but you still missed all of them like crazy. You wished you could be by their side instead of watching from the sidelines.

A part of you knew you could be, that you didn’t have to put yourself through this pain if you just owned up and confessed. But telling your best friend since diapers that you’re in love with him, even if you’re pretty damn sure it’s mutual, is too terrifying a concept to consider.

You knew being an idols partner would be stressful, but it would also give you a lot more time to spend with the boys. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, the risk of you being wrong and him not feeling the same weighing too heavily. The best case scenario would be you were right, you’d never have to leave your best friend's side, you’d be at every show like he’d wanted, you’d be there for everything; but worst scenario, you lose your best friend and the boy you love in one swoop, as well as the rest of your closest friends.

You’d rather deal with the spotty texts and irregular calls than creating an unfixable rift.

````

Despite the damn near radio silence you’d endured while they traveled their first year as an actual group, you still made sure to keep the promise you’d made and bought a ticket to a small local show they’d be doing.

You texted Jisung a picture of the ticket, not really expecting a response and being pleasantly surprised when he texted back a very Jisung response.

SUNGIE: I knew you were secretly in love with me

Followed by a string of unrelated emojis. Your phone buzzed again with another text.

SUNGIE: the boys want to know if you’d be down to get food and catch up after the show, I already told them yes, you don’t have a choice, I miss my best friend

You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that arose in your chest at his messages, he was right for accepting on your behalf, you would never turn down the opportunity to spend time with your friends, but especially not Jisung.

You typed up a quick reply, agreeing and telling him you’d see them all at the concert.

The rest of the week couldn’t go by fast enough. Texts with Jisung had become a little more regular again, both of you excited for some time together, and you’d even gotten a call in. You were counting down the minutes to the concert, antsy to see your friends again.

Your roommate helped you pick out an outfit for the concert because “there’s no way you’ll be representing in jeans and a t-shirt, we’re going to look sexy as fuck.” and you couldn’t find it in you to argue.

When the night finally arrived and you were situated next to your roommate not far from the stage, you couldn’t shake the anxiousness at seeing them again. They were your friends, and they always would be, but you wondered how much they’d changed in the year you’d been separated; you wondered if they’d still act like your friends.

Your fears were relieved fairly quickly as they finally took the stage. It only took about three songs for Felix to spot you, lighting up the moment he did and running around to inform the others. Throughout the show they each took moments to find you to wave subtly. It eased your mind knowing they seemed as happy to see you as you were them.

After the show, you and your roommate waited until most of the crowd died off before you said your goodbyes, your roommate heading for the exit as you headed towards the side of the stage, grinning and walking faster when you noticed Jisung peeking around the corner and waving when he spotted you.

You threw your arms around him the second you got to him, happy to finally have your best friend back.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the boys to crash your reunion, quickly dragging you into a group hug.

“Hey back off! This is my bestie, all of you can go find your own.” Jisung pouted, but you could see how his eyes softened as his eight new best friends embraced you and accepted you as a part of their little family.

````

“Woojin, who has been with Stray Kids as a member until this time, has left the group due to personal circumstances and terminated his exclusive contract.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you read the headline. You had just had lunch with all of the boys a few weeks prior and everything seemed fine, they were excited for their blossoming career together. Not one of them, not even Jisung, had let on to anything.

You felt you had at least a bit of a reason to feel hurt, they were your closest friends and you had to learn one was splitting from the group through a gossip site. Before you could think, you were outside the boys dorm, hand raised to knock, when voices stopped you when you heard your name, making a mental note to tell the boys to shut their windows.

“I just don’t understand why we didn’t tell Y/n.” Jisung sounded defeated.

“It’s not that we didn’t want to, Hannie, it’s just that the least outsiders that know the truth, the better.” “Y/n isn’t an outsider! They’re my best friend, they wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”

“We just, we can’t guarantee that. I love them, they’re a wonderful friend, but they’re not a part of this world Han. They wouldn’t understand and we can’t risk it. The next few months are going to be hard enough on Stay, nine or none is dead and we’re tasked with moving along like it’s nothing, the last thing we need right now is anything getting misconstrued.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened in. You could understand where Chan was coming from, but it still hurt hearing he couldn’t bring himself to trust you.

You wiped your eyes and finally knocked, not wanting to just vanish. They were still your friends.

“Hey, you guys seriously need to remember to shut your windows, I could hear Changbin from the driveway.” You laughed as you let yourself in, hugging Chan as you passed him before joining Jisung on the couch. It wasn’t long before other members started filing into the living room, presumably to see you, but you suspected it was more due to the safety and assurance that Chan and Jisung were done with their conversation as long as you were present.

“I heard the news by the way, I’m sorry this is happening. But hey! Maybe some good news can lighten the room.” You took a deep breath, nervous knowing your news would absolutely not help anything. “I got a huge promotion at work.” You grinned, fiddling with your hands, which Jisung and Chan both picked up on immediately.

You hadn’t mentioned being up for promotion, mostly because you weren’t even positive you’d get it, let alone accept it, but with a world tour on the horizon for the boys, and now the addition of being reminded you weren’t anything more than a normal level friend, you figured why not, what would be keeping you in Seoul anyway?

Congratulations and excitement filled the room, you smiled, thanking everyone for being happy for you, but your smile faded when Jisung’s hands covered yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting. He refused to meet your eyes.

“What’s the bad news?” He asked softly, eyes glued to where his hands were holding yours.

The excitement in the room felt as if it was sucked out by a vacuum, you tried to smile, already shaking your head to say there wasn’t any, but it died on your throat when Jisung’s eyes finally met yours, his brown eyes shining as he looked at you. “Don’t lie to me, please.” He whispered.

You slouched in defeat. “It was meant to be exciting news to cheer everyone up, Sungie. I mean, it’s not necessarily bad news, per se, it could be a really great thing even, you know?”

Jisung cut off your rambling by squeezing your hand. Giving you a look that said ‘get on with it.’

“The promotion is to an American branch.”

````

Jisung had somehow convinced his management to give him enough time off to help you move, no matter how much you insisted he didn’t need to.

You had been busy cleaning out your closet, packing what to keep and piling up things you didn’t, figuring you could donate them, with your music blasting, none the wiser to the eight boys standing in your doorway.

“Do they always keep the music this loud?”

The shouted question startled you. You whipped around in shock before rushing to lower the volume to greet your friends.

“Yes. Yes they do.” Jisung grinned teasingly as he pulled you into a hug. “I brought some extra hands, hope you don’t mind.” He said before kissing the top of your head and releasing you, whistling as he looked at the walls, still covered in pictures of the both of you, and some with the rest of the guys.

Seungmin was pointing out ridiculous pictures of Jisung to Jeongin and Minho laughed as he noticed a baby picture of the younger member.

“Hyung, maybe we should ask Y/n for young pictures of Han instead of him or his family.”

Jisung groaned at that and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I mean, there’s a lot of pictures here, so if you see any you’d like to keep, go for it. Most of them will likely just stay in a memory box while I’m overseas anyways.”

The look of utter betrayal Jisung shot you just made you laugh harder as you patted his shoulder and put all the boys to work.

````

“Y/N! STRAY KIDS RELEASED A NEW ALBUM!”

It had been a year since you moved to America, and a year with your new roomies, whom you loved dearly. Throughout that year, the Kids had been garnering more and more popularity.

You learned Eve and Nat, twins that were complete opposites in almost every way, had watched the entire Elimination Show as it was airing and Nat actually cried in relief when it was announced they’d debut as nine; Noel, a blunt and chaotic content creator, was a bit picky and admittedly didn’t like all of their music, but she loved them as people and would flood the house group chat with reels and tiktoks, her bias is Chan; and it took a little while for Lia, a tiny italian, to get in to them, but Eve was adamant that all roomies had to be Stays and when the twins had K-pop blasting through the house pretty much non-stop, it’s hard not to get pulled in.

You still kept in contact with the boys to some extent, it wasn’t as drop out of touch as the first year was, but you could tell the distance was growing again. When the day came that you no longer contacted one another, you wouldn’t be surprised. You brought yourself to look at it as you were thankful for the extra time you were given, you’d assume most idols lose contact with people of their past life fairly quickly.

You had never told your roommates about your connection to the band, not because you didn’t trust them and adore them but because it felt too risky. They could try to use you to get to the boys, or just flat out tell you to take your delulu meds. It hurt, thinking your closest friends might abandon you because of that kind of knowledge, it helped you understand Chan a little more with the Woojin situation.

Your door burst open, any semblance of privacy pretty well gone when it came to Eve’s excitement.

“Did you hear me?? A new album! They take such good care of us!” She fake cried dramatically as she sprawled out on your bed.

Eve was followed shortly by Lia, holding a cup of coffee with six tally marks drawn on it, indicating it was her sixth cup of the day; and Noel carrying a camera, likely having filmed the entire invasion.

“Yes I heard, I think the whole neighborhood did.” You laughed, playing with the girls hair. “Are you going to play this new album or just continue to shout about it?”

Eve groaned. “We have to wait until stupid Nat gets home, who even made the stupid rule about new album drops having to be group listening parties anyways?” She grumbled as you and your other roommates tried to hold back your laughter.

“You did, babe.” Lia giggled, sipping her coffee and joining the two of you on your bed.

Life with them often meant no privacy, the amount of times all five of you have ended up sleeping in one bed for the night was crazy, seeing as you all have your own rooms. There were a lot of blurred lines within your house, but you loved it and wouldn’t change it for almost anything.

“So who is this in all your pictures anyways? I don’t think I’ve ever asked before.” Noel mumbled as she walked around your room, camera in hand.

“I’ll tell you if you don’t use that footage you’re getting.” You joked.

“Deal!” Lia agreed on her behalf, setting her mug down and wrestling the camera from Noel to shut off the recording.

“Tell us. We’ve all been dying to know. You never talk about your past.”

You hesitated for only a moment before relaxing into your pillows.

“His name is Jisung, in all the photos. He’s my best friend, we grew up together but we don’t talk all that much anymore. His career distanced him, and mine obviously didn’t help that. It’s simple as that. We talk maybe once every few months now.”

“Are you in love with your Jisung?” Eve asked, blue eyes staring up at you with a childlike twinkle.

“Yeah, I am.”

The girls giggled and you hid your face in your pillow to avoid the teasing until Nat walked in, asking what was going on, and immediately getting updated. He joined in on the teasing, which thankfully only lasted until Eve remembered Stray Kids’ new album NOEASY.

````

“I swear, you being besties with a boy named Jisung gives you insane luck or something, how are you always pulling Han? Honestly at this point I think you have just as many Han Jisung photo cards on your walls as you do pictures of your Jisung. You’re so lucky your bias is so easy for you to get. Five target exclusive albums and not ONE Felix photocard. Like, don’t get me wrong, I am perfectly content with my Changbin, Innie, and Seungmin cards, but how did not a single one of us pull a Lixie?!” Eve banged her head against the wall as she rambled.

Nat rolled his eyes at her and immediately got smacked by the girl tucked under his arm.

“Ow! What the hell Lia, I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t be rolling your eyes at my baby girl.” Lia said threateningly.

“For the last time, you’re dating me, not my sister, please stop calling her your baby girl.”

“Oh please, brother. I could steal your girl anytime I want and we all know it.” Eve giggled, finally snapping out of her rambling state to tease her brother. Lia blew her a kiss, sending her a wink.

“We can steal girlfriends another time, right now we’re going to be late for dinner, and we all know how James can get about his dinners.” Noel rolled her eyes at the trio as she put her camera away, having filmed everyone opening their albums. She has so much content of Lia and Eve flirting with each other that a good amount of her viewers have started theorizing that Nat is Lia’s beard.

James is the twins' father. After the twins had moved out he had insisted they come home once a week for a family dinner, the invite was quickly extended to the rest of the household as James seemed to systematically adopt everyone. You had never complained because it was a day off from feeding the household and because James was actually an amazing cook.

```

“We’re going. I don’t care if I have to throw you all into my car forcefully, we are going to this concert.” Lia stated as the roommates were gathered in the living room looking at the tour dates announcement. “I don’t care if I have to drive the whole nine hours by myself, I am not missing this concert.”

Stray Kids were playing only a few states away and everyone but you had missed them the last time they’d been so close due to having already had tickets to something that same weekend. The only reason you hadn’t missed it was because you’d been in the city of the concert for business and delayed your flight a day to see them. You’d felt bad for seeing them without your roommates and best friends of three years, but you would have felt more bad breaking a promise to your best friend of much, much longer.

“And you!” Lia turned her eyes on you, pinning you with a scolding motherly glare. “No running off and seeing them by yourself again! We’re all going to see our boys and that is final.”

You weren’t about to argue with her, and no one else seemed to want to either, so everyone set reminders for the day tickets would go on sale and started plotting outfits for the concert.

```

The energy in the crowd was indescribable, the excitement all around you made the hairs on your arms stand up. You could feel nerves bubbling up in your stomach, yes you’d seen the boys plenty of times since you all lost touch, but you’d always actively avoided any seat that could potentially be seen from stage, but the tickets went on sale whilst you were in a crucial meeting and Lia, being the groups sugar momma, bought only the best she could get her hands on, landed you about three rows from front and center.

An excited hush fell over the crowd as the lights dimmed, everyone pressing forward just a little to try and get that much closer to the people coming up on the stage, but you just wanted to turn tail and run.

Nat grabbed your hand, squeezing it as if he could sense your nerves. It wouldn’t surprise you, of all your roommates, Nathaniel had always been the one to pick up on peoples emotions the easiest and he had always had a keen sense of awareness to things he shouldn’t be aware of.

The lights burst with the opening chords of the first song of the evening and an odd mixture of pride and nausea hits you as screams drown everything out and the boys finally come into proper view.

“Deep breaths honey. You’re okay.” Nat’s comforting voice whispers into your ear, his hands squeezing a little tighter, grounding you. “Just have fun, don’t worry about him.”

Whipping your head to look at him, you see a knowing glint in his eyes and as he nods his head back towards the stage, you realized he’d pieced it together.

How does he know? Do they all know?

He smiles once more, squeezing again, before looking away and releasing you entirely, joining the throngs of people screaming and enjoying the show. You look back towards the stage, noting how much each of your old friends have changed over the years.

You let your nerves slowly slip away as you let yourself enjoy the promise you’ve always upheld and support your friend by screaming along and dancing with the rest of the crowd.

```

Your anxieties of earlier had been completely forgotten by the time the halfway point hit. As the lights come up to allow people a small intermission to use the bathroom or get some water, you turned to your roommates, joining in the excited rambles of all they’ve witnessed so far, adding in your notes as well, stealing glances at the timer in the middle of the stadium periodically. But as you make eye contact with a pair of curious brown eyes peeking from backstage, you feel your stomach drop. Even from the distance you’re at, you can see the recognition flash in those big eyes as they widen before disappearing entirely behind the curtain.

Just as you’re about to turn and make a hasty exit, those curious eyes return with another pair.

Felix and Jeongin seem to freeze you in place. You watch as Jeongin’s eyes light up with familiarity, his hand quickly coming up to shoot you a small wave, you wave back, not even thinking, and his smile widens, eyes squinting, as he seems to bounce in place to contain his happiness. It melts your heart to see, realizing you truly have missed all of them, not just Jisung.

They both wave again before disappearing just as fast as they’d appeared. “Okay, what was that all about?” Lia whispers, her small hand gently holding your elbow to get your attention.

“I’m not entirely sure.” And it’s not a complete lie.

“Your Jisung is Han Jisung, isn’t it.” It’s not a question, not really, and you have no energy to try and hide it anymore. “Are you friends with all of them?”

“Was. I’m not sure I can claim being a friend to any of them anymore.”

“Well I would say you can because Lee fucking Felix and g’damn I.N. just waved at you.”

“You don’t know it was at me.”

“Yes I do, and you do too. Don’t bullshit right now.

“It doesn’t even matter because they’ll finish this show, do the one tomorrow, and they’ll be gone and nothing will be different.”

Lia gave you a look that screamed she thought you were insane but before you could tell her that it’s just how it is, the lights dimmed again. The stadium hushed quickly, all noticing the timer wasn’t quite finished yet, then it stopped all together and a spotlight came on over a nervous looking Han Jisung, front and center, the other kids not too far behind him.

He wasn’t facing you, but his eyes were scanning and he was turning slowly, while trying to look normal.

“This wasn’t exactly scheduled, and I’m sorry about that, but I just talked it over with the others and with the band and we’re going to perform There for all of you tonight. This song is, well it’s really important to me.”

With that, the opening chords start playing and Han's beautiful voice fills the hushed room.

Oh, I think of you, I only fall for you

Feels like a never-ending waterfall

Tears spring to your eyes. Ever since they’d released this song, you’d felt as if it was written for you. Your logical mind screamed it likely wasn’t, that it wouldn’t make sense for it to be. You’d had no contact with them for over three years, so why now? But even with those thoughts, you couldn’t help but remember nights spent with your best friend in the whole world, evenings passed by whilst stargazing despite the horrendous amount of light pollution and lack of visibility. Everything about the song when it was released made you think of the time before all of this, when you’d always had Han Jisung by your side.

You make eye contact with Bang Chan as he follows Han’s vocals to fill his own part, he smiles, his dimples on full blast, and you know it’s his way of acknowledging you.

As the song passes, slowly the rest of the members seem to locate you, waving subtly, putting hearts up, ways to say hi without alerting the thousands of fans around you. Everyone sees you, except for Jisung, who either can’t locate you or is actively avoiding your eyes. Your heart drops at the thought.

Did you really have it wrong? You had assumed it was a long shot that There was written for you, but hearing them perform it live and seeing them all track you down brought hope that maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking, all except the one you want to look at you the most.

Your heart sank further and further as the song came to a close, Han never having looked your way.

I know that it'll never stop

Oh, I'm still right there.

You watch Chan grab Jisung and pull him off stage as the countdown starts back up, and you’re pretty sure everyone can see the slump in his shoulders as his leader drags him away.

“Get out of your head honey. Just try to enjoy the show.” Nat rubs your back in comforting circles until Eve whips around, her grin too bright to ignore.

“This is the best night ever!” And of course your sunshine friend is oblivious to your inner turmoil. All you can do is smile back and agree.

You take deep breaths, you let your friends and the adoring fans around you ground you, and you decide to just enjoy this band that you’ve been a fan of for years instead of stressing about the friendship you’d already assumed was dead.

```

You could feel yourself letting loose, dancing to the music, singing at the top of your lungs, just enjoying being in the crowd. It was easy to be happy in a room with all your favorite people.

Throughout the night all the boys would check up on you, your area of the crowd easily became a favorite to interact with, but Han still hadn’t looked at you. Trying not to let it affect you, you made a heart with Lee Know and then broke it, watching in delight as his brows raise in shock and he starts laughing. His laughter draws the others' attention and they all seem to light up at the sight of happy Lee Know.

Han make’s his way over to Minho, throwing an arm over his shoulder and preparing to do his rap when Minho whispers something to him and nods in your direction. Everything seems to fade away as Jisungs eyes finally meet yours, you can vaguely hear the instrumental for his part of the song but he’s not rapping, he just seems frozen as he stares at you.

Raising your hand, you give him a small wave, his hand following the motion and copying which makes you smile. Minho must pinch him because his body jolts and he shoots his friend an incredulous look, and then as if remembering where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing, he blushes and follows Lee Know to the rest of the members to get into choreo formation for the next song, but not without shooting you one more smile.

Sound comes rushing back in, and suddenly the air feels lighter, you hear Lia squealing as she bounces up and down next to you, holding your arm, and you can feel Nat’s arm around you.

Han’s eyes can’t seem to stay off of you after that, you catch him looking at you more often than not. You feel giddy, laughter bubbling in you as he stumbles some choreography while trying to keep his eyes on you.

The rest of the concert flies by way too fast, you don’t want the night to end, you don’t want to go back to your hotel and let this moment go past you. You don’t want Han Jisung to stop looking at you again.

All the longing for your best friend, all the time you spent pretending you were alright with the way things turned out because he was living his dream and he was happy, all those years loving someone unattainable, drowns you as the boys leave the stage for the last time that night. The weight of realization weighs on you as the lights come up and the stadium starts clearing out, and just when you were ready to grab your friends and elbow your way to out of the stadium, putting the whole night behind you and accepting the end of a friendship officially, a guard tracked you down, asking for you by your Korean name, and asking you to follow him.

Confusion, and a bit of hope, floods you as you look to your friends, who just shrug, just as confused by the request but following you and the guard, after Noel and Lia argue that security or not their friend isn’t going anywhere without the rest of them because that wouldn’t be safe. You’re all brought backstage and left in a room with several couches and a table full of snacks.

“So, what the heck is going on?” Eve finally asks, breaking the confused silence.

“Y/n’s boyfriend got us V.I.P access, apparently.” Nat responds.

“BOYFRIEND?!”

You smack Nat’s arm, causing him to laugh. “No babe, I don’t have a boyfriend, I’m just as confused as you are.”

Before much else could be said, a loud squeal is heard just before you're lifted off the ground and spun around.

“Y/n/n!!!” Felix shouts, setting you down and pulling you back in for a soul crushing hug. “I’ve missed you so much, we have so much catching up to do!” He looks around, likely looking for the rest of his members but noticing your friends. “Oh. Hello there!” He smiles. “I’m Lee Felix, nice to meet you all!”

“Let them breathe Lix,” Seungmin rolls his eyes, pulling you from Felix’s grasp just to drag you into a hug of his own. “But he’s right, there is a lot of catching up to do.” He mumbles before releasing you and passing you off to the next person.

You catch a glimpse of your roommates, all of whom look absolutely dumbfounded. Even Nat and Lia, who seemed to have known about Jisung, seemed absolutely bewildered by these events.

You’re passed from member to member and something about it is so nostalgic. Being hugged by these sweaty, energy high, happy boys made you feel completely at peace.

By the time you’re finally completely released, you notice your boys introducing themselves to your slightly starstruck friends. You also notice everyone is in the room but Han and Chan.

Minho, the ever attentive one, saddles himself next to you, watching your friends mingle.

“Sungie is, well, he’s having a panic attack, I won’t lie to you, and Chan’s helping him. Don’t worry, he’s not avoiding you.” You flash him a grateful smile.

You watch as Eve and Felix get on like an absolute house fire, both practically bouncing in excitement as they chat about goodness knows what. Nat, Lia, Changbin, and Hyunjin watch in amusement, providing commentary now and again, while you catch up with Minho, Innie, and Seungmin.

It’s not too long before Chan finally enters the room, taking no time at all to scoop you into his arms. “God we’ve missed you, Y/n/n.” He whispers, his face pressed into your neck.

“I’ve missed all of you too. So much. And I am so, so proud of you all.”

Chan pulls back, giving you a tired smile before turning you to the door. “He’s too nervous to come in here, so you might want to go to him.” His smile is genuine, and he squeezes your shoulder once before releasing you entirely and gently pushing you toward the door.

Outside of the room, Jisung is pacing and mumbling to himself, he doesn’t even seem to notice another presence with him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s just your best friend. Your best friend in the whole world that you’ve been out of touch with for years. You’ll be okay. It’s not like they wouldn’t want to see you.” Han freezes, eyes still locked on the ground. “Oh my god, what if they don’t want to see me.”

“Han Jisung, would you stop rambling under your breath and hug me already?”

His head whips around, eyes wide, and for a minute all he does is stare at you in shock, and then he rushes towards you, pulling you into a hug so tight it’s as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers, his voice watery.

You hug him back with just as much strength, clinging to him and willing your tears back.

“Careful, it almost sounds like you’re in love with me or something.” You try to joke, your voice just as unsteady as his.

That seems to trigger something in him because he pulls back and stares at you for a really long moment. Just taking in your features. “And what if I am?” He whispers. Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes are watery but genuine.

Before you can say anything, he starts fumbling for his pocket before pulling out a small black box. He takes a deep breath before sinking down onto one knee, your eyes widening in shock.

“Because I am, ya know? I always have been. You’ve always been my ending, Y/n/n. And I had promised you once that you’d be stuck with me for the rest of your miserable life, and that I’d put a ring on it if it meant never losing you. Well, then I did lose you, and now that you’re here, I don’t intend on ever letting you slip away again. So, marry me, and let me spend the rest of my life by your side, because I joke about your miserable life a lot, but I know for a fact how miserable life is without you and I don’t want it.”

You can feel the tears running down your face as you drop to your knees in front of him, nodding as you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

His lips are salty, likely from your shared tears, and they’re a little chapped, but they meet yours just as eagerly and you know it’s real, and that this is how it always should have been.

You both pull apart for air, he leans his forehead against yours as he grabs your hand to slide the ring into place and you hear whooping and hollering not to far, both of you looking up to see not only the kids, but your roommates all having likely witnessed the whole thing.

Jisung blushes and you grin, tears still flowing as you wrap your arm around your best friend in the whole wide world and show your ring off to Eve and Lia who rushed in to see it immediately.

“I love you.” Jisung whispers as he helps you stand.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, leaning further into him and never wanting to leave his side ever again.

“Sweetie, you have got some major explaining to do.” Eve cuts in, joining the hug and giving you a pointed but teasing glare.

a/n : thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!! if you enjoyed it considering reblogging or leaving a comment with your thoughts, I love to read them🫶

main taglist: nothing yet :)

#han jisung #han jisung x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #skz fic #skz x reader #han x y/n #skz x y/n #stray kids x y/n #rori writes #stray kids fanfic #han jisung fanfic #skz fanfic #childhood friends to lovers #?👀

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labrxnth · 7 months

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Prison Break- Part 8 (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)

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

Tag List:

WC: 2007

CW: Alcohol mention

AN: In this house we appreciate and respect Ada Wong. Also sorry I said this would come out last night, I sat down to write and I legit fell asleep and woke up four hours later, with a keyboard imprint on my face o_o

Summary: You mull over the past week while you and Leon are bad about feelings.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

It had been a few days since Alcatraz. The San Franciscan horizon had turned into the all too familiar D.C. horizon. Buildings that you knew like the back of your hand came into view instead of the bay that held your curiosity. But that was the name of your job, you were sent anywhere and everywhere, only to come back to the landscape of D.C. that was seared into your eyelids.

Like the surging tides of the Bay Area, thoughts of you and Leon’s relationship changing seemed to fade away as quickly as they showed.

It was a weird thing, to have your friend admit their love for you, then acting like nothing happened. The world around you kept turning while you were waiting on something, anything from Leon. At this point, you would have been happy with a longing look towards you, but you got nothing. Nothing at all.

You were also too nervous to make the first move, thinking that an inevitable rejection would come from making the relationship a reality. Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own anxieties and insecurities, you would notice Leon acting the same way you were.

So now here the two of you were, at a stalemate in your D.S.O. office, hoping the other would take pity and say something about the past week.

Your office felt suffocating, excruciatingly so. The silence between the two of you was heavy and thick, not being able to be parted. The ocean that was between the two of you only grew by the second, either one of you too nervous to say anything.

There were only a few other times where it felt like the day crept by at an excruciatingly slow pace, but today definitely won first place. The clock finally read 4:00pm; a sigh left your mouth as you turned off your laptop to get ready to leave. Your laptop went into your bag and everything on your desk was collected to either go in your bag or your desk.

You were excited to get out of the choking atmosphere of the office, already thinking about your plans when you got home. The plans were to order delivery, sit on the couch with a bottle of wine, and drown out your hopes of this going anywhere.

As you mindlessly cleaned up your workspace, your thoughts were running rampant. Maybe you misread his intentions during Alcatraz. You two did kiss, but what if he regretted it and it was only an adrenaline fueled, spur of the moment, thing?

As you walked towards the door, you could hear Leon slightly clearing his throat, your head turning to look at him, sitting at his desk.

“Hey, (Y/n),” He said, his face unreadable. His acknowledgement seemed to melt away any thoughts you had.

Your eyes met his in expectation for something, anything from him. As soon as your eyes locked, he looked away, taking a sudden interest in the corkboard on your wall.

“Have a good rest of the day,” He said flatly and went back to typing on his laptop. The sound of the keyboard was the only thing that filled the silence of the office.

You could cut the tension with your combat knife.

You nodded, a little disappointed, then walked out of the office, feeling the raging waves drown the two of you. Expectations of something died in the roaring waters. Who you thought of as your life preserver was slowly deflating, leaving you to your own devices in the dark, cold, ocean.

When the door closed, Leon looked back up at it, watching the very space you were only a few seconds prior. He tried to ignore the heat coming to his cheeks as the blush slowly spread. All that was on his mind was how you felt in his arms, how your lips tasted on his. How everything felt like home to him, in a life where home was a privilege.

Someone had to give between the two of you, and Leon knew it had to be him. He knew that you would keep on working as if nothing happened, all to appease him. The way you worked was that you never wanted to misstep, or be an inconvenience to anyone, no matter how you felt.

Feelings for him were terrifying. It felt like he was being suffocated in his own skin; his heart and brain coming together to tell him what was happening.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince himself that he was denying himself and you of each others’ feelings to protect you. You were also in this job, this life, unlike the other people he’d turned down through his life.

He opened his top desk drawer and the overhead lights of the office caught on something. The makeup compact he had kept in there for years. The looming idea of a love that he let fizzle out.

What if you and him became like him and Ada?

Opening the compact, he looked at himself in the mirror. The reality was that the dynamic between Leon and you was different than him and Ada. He was aware of your feelings, but felt like he couldn’t reciprocate them, until everything had bubbled over in Alcatraz. Leon loved you, but he had justified himself in his own head, scared of the pain of losing you.

In this dynamic, he was more like Ada and you were like a younger version of him.

Ada Wong couldn’t get involved with Leon, no matter how much she wanted to. Their lives were too different and things would get messy. Leon knew her reasoning, and he was content with the few nights they spent together. There was something there, but it had to be let go.

Leon wouldn’t be content with potential hook-ups. He needed you like he needed to breathe. The two of you had been teetering, and it would fall into the pit of nothingness if Leon didn’t do something about it.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He closed the compact and put it on his desk, thinking about how to stop the two of you from becoming another lost potential instead of a blossomed relationship.

His eyes landed on a folder on top of your desk. It wasn’t rare for you to leave things behind, but maybe it could be the push Leon needed to make things right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The parking garage was cold, reflecting the outside weather. It was a nice cover from the rain falling down, but everything around you seemed to reflect how you felt. The calming noise of the rain settled your racing head as you walked closer and closer to your car. The thoughts swimming in your skull.

Maybe you had to be the one to make the move, but you knew you couldn’t. No amount of planning would make it easy for you to swallow your anxiety and try to break out of the mental chains you had given yourself.

As you reached for your car door handle, you heard someone behind you. Their footsteps echoing through the parking garage, sounding like they were running.

“Y/n!” A familiar voice said, his voice echoing just like his footsteps.

Turning around, you saw Leon, running towards you with something in his hand, a folder of some sort. He stopped running as he got close to you and he held out the folder. Recognizing it, you knew that this was from your desk, something you forgot to pack in your bag.

“You forgot this,” He said, still breathing a little heavily.

Your eyes met his as you took the folder and each other’s hands touched. The spark that was felt couldn’t be denied by either of you. After a few seconds of stillness, he let go of the folder and you put it in your bag.

“Thanks,” You said quietly, getting lost in his eyes, the vast sky that they held in their irises. The two of you just stood there, feeling how you got intertwined just by looking at each other.

Leon’s Adam apple bobbed up and down in his throat as the two of you inched closer to each other. His eyes drifted to your lips as he drew in a breath. His hand cupped your face, his thumb slightly rubbing your cheekbone.

“Do you want this?” He asked quietly.

“Yes,” You said breathlessly, your cheeks turning a slight pink at his words.

He grinned, then pulled you into a kiss, making your lips meet each other.

It felt like the world around you melted away, you got lost in Leon’s everything. His cologne, the feeling of his lips, the feeling of his hand on your face. Every part of you that was connected to Leon felt like a slow, warm, fire was raging. You used to chastise romance novels and movies for making kisses feel magical, but now you were a believer.

The two of you separated after a couple minutes, needing air. All that you could do was lock eyes with each other and get lost in the feeling.

“I’ve been stupid the past few days,” He said, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I’m sorry.”

“We both have been,” You replied, your arms wrapping around his neck. “What now?”

“How about dinner?” He replied. “Sometime soon,” He added quickly.

“How about tomorrow night? If we don’t get dragged away to another corner of the country,” You said, smiling.

“Sounds like a plan,” He replied.

Hesitantly, the two of you separated. Leon opened your car door for you and watched you get in. “See you tomorrow,” He said and smiled warmly.

You could've sworn that if anyone on the planet was made to give you butterflies and make you melt, it was him.

You nodded and he closed the car door, waving as you started the car up and pulling out of the parking space.

You drove off out of the parking garage and started on your journey home. The speakers in your car were bumping your favorite band, a few songs hitting differently now that you knew where you stood with Leon.

Now, you knew that your love was reciprocated, the melodies and talks of love in the songs made more sense.

The ocean between the two of you was fearlessly crossed, the world around you swirling in color. What you thought was bland and monochrome was revealed to be color, brighter than you could’ve ever imagined.

Romance had its ups and downs with you, as it did everyone. After your last relationship, you were a little hesitant to give it another chance. The polaroids of you and your ex-girlfriend still were hanging up in your house. The fear of moving on and having no one, except for the company of your pining, was too harsh.

Leon was the one person that could care for you tenderly; the one person that you would trust enough with your heart, to piece it back together thoughtfully.

The thoughts you had about him in San Francisco swirled around your head. He was your life preserver in this sea of emotions and events called life. He was someone that you could trust with your life and, more importantly, your heart.

He was someone that was just out of your grip, but now you were in his embrace. Cherished and loved.

The drive home seemed to fade out of your consciousness as you thought about the last week. About how you were so deep in the pining and yearning, that now you didn’t know what to do.

You were pulled back to your present when you parked the car and got out of the driver’s seat. Grabbing your work bag, you quickly walked back into your apartment, giddy and excited for tomorrow.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic and more on my AO3

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #slow burn #leon s kennedy

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i-dreamed-i-had-a-son · 3 days

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Ok y'all it's time to join the party (very late) on my latest deep obsession, which THIS TIME I am going to allow myself to pursue instead of killing the joy (because of how intense it can get) and share with you!!

And that obsession is Epic: The Musical.

Holy smokes man this thing has remolded my brain, it just somehow hits all of those things which I desperately love in media

Firstly. The music is absolutely exquisite. And not even in the ways you'd normally think! Like--there's such wonderfully detailed soundscaping! The musical follows Odysseus on his journey home, and the songs themselves contain beautifully done effects that basically make the listening experience into a movie in your head. Monsters, crashing oceans, the underworld itself--and not only is this included in non-muscial sound design, it's incorporated into the music itself. The realm of the wind gods uses flutes as the main instrument--because it's a WIND instrument I'm losing my mind

PLUS there's the additional elements of musical "Easter eggs," thematic connections, leitmotifs, instrumentation identification, musical callbacks and even foreshadowing like come ONNNNN it's so well done

All of this with the added bonus that the songs, while cohesive, do not all sound the same, and do not feel like normal musical theater songs. They are the perfect mix between modern music, orchestral arrangements, and a musical theater jam, because they are 1. SUPER great to belt along to, 2. Very much linked together (as explained above) and 3. Very unlike the standard, vocal-focused empty pop sound we're used to (theater) while keeping the innovative, ear-wormy, modern (pop) beat that often feels out of place in theater!

And lyrically this musical is super strong. I spent a ton more time on the music (and will likely write more at length later) because that is what got me obsessed with it, but there's also much to praise lyrically! Unlike most modern "non-theater" musicals, while you can tell at places that it has been influenced by (the ever-present) Lin-Manuel Miranda, it feels authentically unique and independent. So many songs have genuinely profound lines (check out Just a Man, the second song in the saga) and the pop elements never lend themselves to empty repetition. Everything sung or said has a purpose, which I am obsessed with. Yes king go off give us everything

Finally (for now) there's just the genuine love that the creator(s) have for this musical. Jay Rivera-Herrans is the brain behind it (he wrote the entire musical over several years) and like...just look at what he shares about it on his Instagram. He gets so EXCITED!! And not like PR excitement, this is like legit "I'm making silly noises because I can't contain myself" excitement!!! He reminds me of me in that sense because he has SO much love and passion for what he does and the nuance in it and the people who enjoy his work, and he shares that in an unfiltered, real, authentic way, and we need to see more of that in the world.

Anyway, if you haven't heard of it and are now interested, it's pretty easy to catch up--there are 5 of the 9 sagas out right now, but only half of the songs, and Spotify has a playlist or two that has them all in order. It's only an hour and eight minutes worth of listening and I have just listened to it through twice in two days; it really does not get old. And then if you go to Jay's Instagram the rabbit hole is deep!! And he explains a lot of the lore and symbolism and intentionality/Easter eggs in the musical!! I went through all of the content he posted, pretty much...

So there's my official hawking of Epic (if only I had gotten in on this earlier!! The "Get in the Water" song that was trending a while ago?? That's from this!!) and you should go listen to it!!!!

#epic the musical #epic the underworld saga #kay is a musical theater nerd #kay can i just catch my breath for a second #jay rivera herrans #again folks i know i am late to the hype train #but as my fixation is setting in i just HAVE to share it #so anticipate a deluge of posts when i find some good stuff to reblog (gonna check the tag right after this)#and when i go back through and make like an ultimate compliation post of musical callbacks and references from within the show #which i have a feeling i will actually follow through on doing if only for my own sake haha #anyways!!#this made me very happy and i hope you enjoy it!!#kay has a party in the tags

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 11 months

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I KNEW I WASN'T CRAZY

THERE ARE DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF THE MOVIE FLOATING AROUND.

I NOTICE THIS AND I WASN'T SURE WHAT TO THINK.

Okay okay, I guess is time to give admit a couple of things; one of them is that as for now, I had watched this movie in theatres 5 times; and no it would not be all of them. I have no idea how much of the movie I had seen outside theatres because doing this analysis can make me watch a scene from three to ten times.

Another caveat to all of this is that I have ADHD, which means I can either miss something that was plainly on the screen because it wasn't too interesting to me, or, I would be picking on crap that no on else even thought about until I point it out but to me feels obvious.

Honestly one of the praises I have for this movie is being able to keep my attention for over two hours without me getting bored or restless; not to say every person with ADHD can't sit still watching movies, but for me personally is a challenge. I concentrate more on books.

I am getting sidetrack again, the thing is that I NOTICE THESE STUFF.

I watched the movie the day it came out, which meant I also watched the movie when the audio was a bit off. So I was expecting in sub sequence viewings to be different.

This may be just me, but in my first viewing I could had swore the presentation on the logos was different; they were fewer and there were more versions of Lord Miller's logos for what I recall.

There is also a difference when Lyla appears at first.

I noticed The Spot's dialogue, the Hobie Bubble, and Ben's different dialogue, but at first I just thought "Huh? That looks/sounds different, oh I may just be mixing up stuff."

Remember what I mentioned about my memory? It's quite funny, I can remember exact quotes from books I obsessed over a decade ago; but if you put me a picture of a client from my workplace, and ask me if this person came yesterday or on Monday, I may legit not know.

Rule of thumb if that is I am hyperfixating on it chances I will remember things correctly, but I also didn't think there would legit be different versions of a movie, so it seemed more feasible that I just didn't remember it right.

I also have some audio processing issues and the movie is hard to hear on certain parts unless you have headphones; so I thought perhaps I just heard wrong and my mind filled the blanks.

Gwen's dialogue? Oh that was the part where I thought for a hot minute I lost it.

Last time I went to the theatres I realized Gwen's dialogue while looking for Miles was missing, which of course I caught on because I am obsessed with them; and I notice right away that was missing.

When I went to check on with my friends, they were surprised to hear me say that because they also remembered it.

I will let out on a little secret; the post of "Please No!"? The second reason I put that video on that post, was in case I was right about things changing.

I am not sure how this movie will be distributed, and if the different versions may had to do with the audio mixing issues; meaning the first version could get lost eventually once this movie is properly on screening.

So, I got the video, uploaded on the post and linked to the original; because in case I am right and Gwen's dialogue gets cuts on that moment, I have proof that no, it was like that at one point, or in one version.

Sorry for the incredibly long ramble, I will come with an analysis soon. But I needed to share this here because 1) I am not crazy, and 2) If I discover parts of my analysis don't match the final version, well, I have proof that I wasn't making stuff up.

Thanks for reading!

#atsv #across the spiderverse #astvs spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #news #I guess I can tag it with that?

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harry-sussex · 1 year

Text

Okay guys, as promised, another long post! Day 2, another one of the craziest days of my life - brace yourselves. This is a wild ride from start to finish - I put my blood, sweat, and tears (literally) into this one.

On Friday, I did a lot - I headed to the National Gallery (where I cried, like a lot, you know how much I love art), and then I went to BP and the mall to scope out locations and check out the vibe for the coronation, and then I met @duchessofostergotlands for dinner (she’s as fun, hilarious, and sweet as you’d expect, we had a blast).

After dinner, I decided I’d head on over to Parliament / Big Ben / the London Eye / etc. just to do the touristy thing, because why not?

I spent about an hour just roaming about, basking, doing whatever when I decided to head on over to the Abbey, just to check it out, see with my own two eyes the place where William and Catherine got married, where the coronation was going to happen, all that.

So I’m just roaming about, staring at the Abbey (which is massive and beautiful, by the way), chatting with some policemen and also texting @claireofluxembourg and @cambridgemadness about how crazy it all was and how it didn’t seem real and just how different things are now, you know?

In the middle of our conversation, I get this absolutely PANICKED text from Vanessa:

So I immediately freak out and call them both and they’re like SOS RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL GO GO GO GO GO so all three of us are at the same time looking at the fastest route from the Abbey to Oswald’s while on the phone and I’m sprinting in whichever direction I saw first and it’s no joke 23 minutes on foot and not worth waiting for the tube. So I start booking it, and I mean BOOKING it while V and Ara are on the phone trying to find a route while I’m just going going going. And they’re telling me who was spotted going in and what time the royals got there and when they think they’d leave, the whole conversation was just a rapid, frenzied SOS THIS IS NOT A DRILL SOUND THE ALARMS RED ALERT GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO. So I’m on the phone with two people and it’s pitch black minus the (very occasional) street lamp and I am not even looking at anything other than Google Maps on my phone. Before I knew it, I was crossing the bridge at St. James’ Park and as I’m getting to the other side I am still booking it SO quickly and I’m not paying attention to anything other than my phone and I am most definitely NOT watching where I was walking and it was so dark that I literally SLAMMED myself, full force, RIGHT into one of those black metal bollards at 100mph. I didn’t stand a chance of catching myself so I go flying, my bag goes flying, and I land on my hands and knees (but like, my knuckles, which are still scratched to hell btw). The whole thing hurt like hell (my right knee is legit purple lmao) but I somehow managed to hang onto my phone. So without hesitating for even a second I IMMEDIATELY got up, completely ignored my battle wounds, and frantically started grabbing my stuff while shouting “YES I’M FINE IT’S FINE EVERYTHING IS FINE” to the 5 million people yelling “ARE YOU OKAY??” from every corner of the park. I legit didn’t even stop - this woman almost had to chase me down because my wallet (!!) went flying and I didn’t even notice amid the chaos.

Unfortunately (but hilariously), I am still on the phone with Vanessa and Arantxa while the commotion is happening and they heard the whole thing, including my body slamming into first the bollard and then the pavement and my “oof” as I’m going down and then the groan once I’d landed and of course they are both crying laughing, which is where this post came from (I am also laughing out loud reading this as I’m writing lmao):

So at this point I’m bleeding, I’m half limping, I’m breathing heavy and sweating because I’m booking it, I almost lost my wallet, I’m still more than 10mins from Oswald’s, and I’m crying laughing at myself while Vanessa and Arantxa are dying laughing at me and honestly that part alone, battle wounds and all, was one of the highlights of my entire trip because let me tell you, it was HILARIOUS - nothing like uncontrollably cracking up with your friends even when they’re thousands of miles away.

Anyway, so I eventually make it to Albemarle Street and get to Oswald’s in one piece and relatively okay considering the earlier incident - I was still bleeding, though. I saw a few paps, some Range Rovers and Audis, plenty of protection officers and security, and maybe 5 regular people like me taking iPhone pictures on the sidewalk. So I found my spot and flung myself in between these two fancy cars across the street and slightly to the left of the entrance. I had my phone in my hand still (I literally did not put it down for a single second in more than 24 hours lmao) so I immediately start snapping pics while Arantxa and I are yelling about God only knows what. Vanessa had to hang up (I was so sad) but Arantxa stayed on the phone with me the entire time - poor thing had to listen to the whole commotion for more than an hour.

So I’m frantically snapping pictures without looking and when I finally get situated I look up I see Crown Prince Akishino and Crown Princess Kiko of Japan just like… standing there. Less than 20 feet away from me. Right across the street, on the sidewalk, like the world had decided “this is really not a big deal.” So naturally I’m completely starstruck and I couldn’t find any words so I’m just yelling “JAPAN!!! JAPAN!!! to Arantxa on the phone while she was also yelling into the abyss. Honestly I wish I could see security footage of this because the vision of me yelling on the sidewalk and her yelling on the phone was probably the comedy show of the century.

So eventually it occurs to me that they’re, like, literal people, who actually exist, who can hear and see and communicate just like I can, standing right in front of me, so I just start bellowing “HIIIIII!!!!” from across the street, waving so enthusiastically, and they looked at me and made eye contact and smiled! The Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Japan smiled at me! Acknowledged my presence! Communicated with me! Knew I existed, for even just a moment, can you believe it?

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why nobody else on the street was saying hi - even after I said hi and waved, I figured somebody else would get the idea too, but nope - it was just me in an absolute tizzy, frantically waving and saying hi and using their names and telling them to have fun at the coronation and whatnot. I found out later that the women next to me were only there for the Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau (lol), so they had no clue who these other people were (fun fact, he never came out). They weren’t even fun about it - they were kind of judgmental about it. “Oh, you run a royal blog? I don’t care about any of these people.” They tried to be a buzzkill, but not on my weekend - no way.

Before I knew it, the royals just kept coming, and I just kept yelling and saying hi and waving, because why not, you know? Once in a lifetime, what was I going to do? Play coy? Act shy? Act like I didn’t know who they were even though I’ve known for years? Please. Literally - you only live once. When was I ever going to get the chance to see them again? Much less all at once?

And seriously, they just kept coming. At one point I was begging Arantxa to write it all down and I was also frantically trying to write in my little notebook and snap photos and pay attention without missing anything important (more on that last part later). All of the pictures are awful because I wasn’t looking at my phone while snapping them, I was just looking at the door, but you’ll see.

After Crown Prince Akishino and Crown Princess Kiko:

Prince and Princess Michael of Kent - I didn’t say anything to Princess Michael, of course (she got in on the other side of the car anyway), but I did say hi to Prince Michael and told him to enjoy the coronation and he waved and smiled at me!

Then came King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck and Queen Jetsun Pema of Bhutan. I said hi and waved at first and they both honestly seemed quite shy, but then I bellowed YOU LOOK SO PRETTY!! at the Queen and she smiled at me!! She really is so stunningly beautiful. Like, so beautiful.

And after that… came Prince Andrew, The Duke of York. I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting that, but I wasn’t, and it took me a minute to figure it out and once I did, I literally gasped out loud and said “it’s Andrew” to nobody in particular (except Arantxa I guess lol), but yeah. I didn’t say a thing to him of course, just took pictures. He didn’t look up at anyone or make a single expression or anything - he and his team booked it to his car at the far end of the road which was in the complete opposite direction of the paparazzi. I didn’t think a 60 year old man could move that fast without breaking a sweat (lol) - top right is him keeping his head down and bottom right is the best shot I could get of his team absolutely sprinting to the car on the far end of the street:

I will forever, forever, forever, FOREVER be furious at myself about this next one. 2 days later and I am still absolutely dumbfounded and so, so, so pissed at myself. I saw this guy and I thought it was Grand Duke Henri of Luxembourg - I couldn’t tell though, so I was absolutely fixated on it. He went right, and I was snapping pictures so I could figure it out later, and I didn’t look left. Didn’t even think of it again until later when I was scrolling through my pictures. Spoiler alert, it was not Grand Duke Henri. Not only that, but even worse - leaving to the left at the same time were King Carl XIV Gustaf and Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden - aka half the reason why I booked it over there (wounds and all), because Victoria is, of course, one of my favorites. I’m absolutely furious at myself - I cannot believe I wasted my eyesight on a random guy who I thought was Grand Duke Henri when CROWN PRINCESS VICTORIA was RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE!!!

So of course I didn’t get to wave or say hi to her because I didn’t even SEE HER because I am an IDIOT and I cannot stop thinking about the idea that she may have seen me waving to all of these people and saying hi and that she might think I have no idea who she is because I DO and I am so SAD that I didn’t get to say hi to her. AND I booked it all the way across London and fell and got bruised and bloodied specifically for her (see Arantxa’s post lol), and I didn’t even realize because I was looking at someone who wasn’t even the person I thought he was! And I’m far less interested in him! But here she is, with her father, proof that she was in front of me, which doesn’t really matter a lot in the grand scheme of my weekend, but I guess it’s something.

After, Crown Prince Haakon and Crown Princess Mette-Marit of Norway came out. I was SO excited to see them - the Norwegians are my next favorite royal family after the Brits, so my excited “HI HAAKON!! HI METTE-MARIT!!!” plus my frantic waving maybe have been a little too much for the average person, but Mette-Marit was totally unbothered by my nonsense! She made eye contact, smiled, laughed, AND waved back!! She was so sweet I can’t stand it. I always thought she seemed like a sweetheart but her reaction was one of the best parts of my night. They both got in the car on the other side of the street so I didn’t get to see her too closely in person but her hair is so pretty! So blonde and shiny!! Side note - have no idea if I pronounced either of their names right - ‘Met-tee Marie’? ‘Met-eh Marie’? ‘Met Mur-it’? ‘Hay-con’? Hah-con?’ - who knows, but I tried. I said “Hah-con” and “Met Marie”.

Then came (in this order) Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence and Princess Anne, The Princess Royal. I about fell over when I saw Tim - the guy is HUGE! We knew this, it’s not news, but he’s about 10 feet taller than Anne. He came out solo at first and I literally gasped and yelled “TIM!! VICE ADMIRAL, HI!!!” It was definitely too much for dignified, stoic Tim lol but he did say hi out loud, didn’t really smile or nod but he did look in my general direction, no eye contact. He went back inside I guess to fetch Anne because they both came out and I absolutely lost it with Anne! “HI ANNE!! ENJOY TOMORROW!!!” She absolutely ignored me in the most Anne way possible, didn’t even flinch, I might as well have not been there at all. The most typical Anne response to a frantic American yelling her name from across the street - I’m not even upset that she outright ignored me, I almost would’ve been disappointed if she did anything more. It wouldn’t have matched the vision of her personality that’s in my head - happy we’ve been right all these years. No-nonsense Anne (and trust me, I was giving nothing but nonsense). Anne - the biggest badass on earth.

Afterwards came Crown Prince Frederik and Crown Princess Mary of Denmark. Mary is PRETTY, like so so so pretty. Her hair is absolutely stunning. I completely forgot that we usually call Frederik “Fred” and I totally butchered his name when I said hi, so it came out “HI FRED-*stutter*-RICK!” which didn’t make any sense at all, it came out as jumbled, gargled nonsense. I got it together with Mary though because I was like “MARY!!! HI!! YOU’RE SO PRETTY!! ENJOY TOMORROW!!!!!” Mary looked genuinely delighted to see me, almost like she couldn’t believe that anyone on the sidewalk had any clue who she was. Their car was a bit closer to my side of the road - more in the middle lane than the left lane - so I got such a good look at her face and we made such direct eye contact and her face like lit up!! She waved and smiled and said hello out loud and I could hear her plain as day and she was just such a bright ray of sunshine, it made my night! What an absolute sweetheart! I was so happy to see her and wave to her and have such an interaction that I literally blacked out and forgot about the pics until they got in the car and drove off so I only have the picture of the car below - you can kind of see Fred’s head through the rear window, but that’s about it.

And then The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, The Lady Louise Mountbatten-Windsor, and James, Earl of Wessex. I saw James through the door first and he’s just so adorable. After a few ins and outs of the door by security, Edward came out first, and at this point, I didn’t care how I looked because they’d all been so nice so far! Edward smiled, that made me happy, I feel like crowds probably don’t go crazy for him too often. And then Sophie - she outright WAVED and smiled and made eye contact, and I caught it on camera!! I told her to enjoy tomorrow and she is the only one of the bunch I remembered to call “Your Royal Highness.” She’s also so pretty. Like smiley! Happy! I didn’t say anything to James because he is a child, but I waved just in case - he kept his head down though, definitely a shy little thing. I also gently said hi to Louise (not as frantically as I did to her parents and everyone else) and she gave me like a half not-smile but that’s okay because it must have been so weird to see someone like me across the street from her.

The last group to come out with security was Princess Beatrice, Edoardo Mapelli-Mozzi, Princess Eugenie, and Jack Brooksbank. I was… mildly surprised and definitely bummed with this group. I wasn’t expecting much from Jack but I thought I’d get something out of the rest of them, some kind of smile or nod or something, but nope. I know they don’t owe me anything, but I was kind of bummed that they didn’t acknowledge anything. I even yelled my congratulations to Eugenie and Jack on their pregnancy and they didn’t flinch, but not in a fun way (like Anne). Not sure what I was expecting - maybe my expectations were different because everyone else generally seemed mildly happy to acknowledge a fan? I don’t know, but it bummed me out. As an aside, Beatrice’s hair is just as pretty in person - if not more - than it is in the photos.

So after the York princesses and their husbands left, security and the paparazzi scattered pretty quickly. I stuck around for quite a while, but when the restaurant’s security started getting into a van to leave, I went and asked one of them if Crown Princess Victoria was still in there (because, at the time, I had no clue she had already left because I am dumb). He told me nobody was left in there, so I sat down on a stoop and rambled to Arantxa about how that was the most badass day and just hung out outside for a while. I was out there for I don’t know, 15 minutes after security left? I just sat on the stoop looking at my phone and then out of nowhere I looked up and saw Mike and Zara Tindall walking out of Oswald’s! No security! And not only that, they didn’t even get into a car! They just walked down the street like it was absolutely no big deal! I was so surprised to see them - I wasn’t expecting anyone else because the security guard said nobody was left inside. So I jumped up and yelled “ZARA!! MIKE!! HI!!!” and they both waved and smiled! They then posed for a picture for someone across the street (I got the back end of it, so sweet) and just went on their merry way.

So all in all, I saw TWENTY-FIVE (25!!!!!!!) royals and royal adjacents on Friday:

Crown Prince Akishino of Japan

Crown Princess Kiko of Japan

Prince Michael of Kent

Princess Michael of Kent

King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck of Bhutan

Queen Jetsun Pema of Bhutan

Prince Andrew, The Duke of York

King Carl XIV Gustaf of Sweden

Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden

Crown Prince Haakon of Norway

Crown Princess Mette-Marit of Norway

Princess Anne, The Princess Royal

Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence

Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark

Crown Princess Mary of Denmark

Prince Edward, The Duke of Edinburgh

The Duchess of Edinburgh

The Lady Louise Mountbatten-Windsor

James, The Earl of Wessex

Princess Beatrice, Mrs. Mapelli-Mozzi

Edoardo Mapelli-Mozzi

Princess Eugenie, Mrs. Brooksbank

Jack Brooksbank

Zara Tindall

Mike Tindall

That doesn’t include the coronation or any of the other incredible things and people I got to see this weekend. Just Friday night, on the side of the road, among a whopping 10 people looking to see and greet royalty from all over the world. What a wild ride. I will never see this many of them in one place ever again. It is likely I never will see any of them ever again. It is also likely that I never would have seen most of them in my lifetime. Even if I did see them at another time in this life, I never would have gotten the chance to greet them and say hi and have some form of non-verbal communication with most of them without Vanessa and Arantxa’s tip-off to head to Oswald’s and without that now-infamous sprint through St. James’ Park. I didn’t leave until midnight, with the coronation the next day, and I don’t regret it a bit. That’s a story for another time, though.

Blood, sweat, and tears, baby. Blood, sweat, and tears. I still cannot believe how lucky I was and how lucky I am. Worth it? Absolutely - worth every second. Battle wounds and all.

#katie goes to london pt. 2 #I cannot possibly tag this many of them #so #British royal family #swedish royal family #Norwegian royal family #Bhutan royal family #japanese imperial family #danish royal family #isn’t this fucking wild guys #I’ll never get over it #5/5/2023

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onecornerface · 5 months

Text

the time I trolled 4chan as a fake flat earther for six hours in 2012

In July 2012, I got on 4chan and pretended to be a flat earther. I passionately argued for flat earth theory for six hours with almost no break. I kept a single thread going the whole time, getting over 400 replies. I’m not sure if I still have a PDF of the thread, but I do have some quotes from people who responded to me. Looking back over this a decade later, I am proud.

[CW: Slurs]

"There's no way you're actually this dumb. There's just no way."

"the flat earth society is one of the best trolls i've ever seen, in all those days of /b/"

"I tried some scientific research on this topic a while ago. I ordered a pizza, got two because the first was not what I ordered. I let the first dry out under a light bulb. Eventually, after a couple weeks, living creatures started populating Planet Pizza, after a while orbiting their home planet. This is proof, that the earth is flat. tl;dr Earth is a pizza, probably on a bigger pizza which probably is in a room with an even bigger pizza."

"Sir your thesis contradicts climate, you don't know what refraction is, you can't explain day and night, ebb and flow and you're also paranoid and/or outright stupid since you believe in conspiracy theory."

"You are a stupid faggot, and the whole of society would be better if you stopped breathing it's air. ...unless, of course, you're a troll. In that case, I'll award you an 8/10."

"I however, HAVE BEEN TO SPACE. Twice. I assure you, having orbited the planet many times, it is indeed a sphere. OP is an idiot, his only defense against me is 'omg gimme proof' which I can, and once given, 'u r part of the illuminatee' Ugh. Ignorant dumb ass piece of shit."

"Damn OP 9/10"

"If we dealt with this on a daily basis i would kill myself."

"Yes my jimmies are rustled, because I hate ignorant, inbred fucks like OP. Go die in a hole. Oh wait, you couldn't, you'd be scared of just falling through into space."

"10/10 OP good trolling, keeping in character and sounding legit"

"9/10 OP. My jimmies will be rustled for the whole rest of the day after reading this tripe."

"[S]ome eyebrows must be raised in the direction of the /b/ros still continuing to argue about this. Better standard should be expected from you guys, but taking away nothing from OP. Excellent work."

"If you're not a failtroll you are, by far, one of the most deluded and idiotic people I've ever seen post on /b/, which is a tremendous feat."

"9/10 for commitment"

"love this thread op 10/10 for still being here." (This was three hours in.)

">Focuses on the obscurely worded >Ignores every other point >Provides no answers About what I was expecting."

"Go hung yourself, please Humanity doesn't need such stupid people like you are"

"I'd believe someone who says the earth is flat compared to someone who claims otherwise and can't grammar correctly."

"I haven't laughed so hard at something on /b/ for a long time."

"OP, I'm not gonna bother asking you anything. I just wanted to let you know this is the best thread I have seen as long as I can remember. You truly are amazing. Good fucking job."

"nice arguments though i am in awe of your reckless faggotry and ignorance and skills of producing believable logical fallacies."

(Four hours in) "I can't believe this thread is still going. OP is the most successful troll of all time."

">Earth is flat >Every other celestial body is round >mfw 1/10"

"Great thread. You are not a troll, I saw you other times here and I knew personally a man from this society."

"holy shit 0 of fucking 10"

"Billiard balls are also flat. Isn't it obvious that they sprites?"

"10/10 OP wins"

">almost 5 hours of this shit 10/10"

"Big respect OP. OP is alpha as fuck"

"but seriously, OP is the man destroying everyone with his devasting arguments for hours huge respect man if i would suck a cock then I'd suck yours and I'd propably come before you do"

"3/10. Painfully obvious troll, yet impressive to see so many anons actually failing to make a compelling argument."

"Willy Wonka travelled around the world in 80 days, and ended up back where he started, just in time for tea. You can't explain that."

"Did you ever wonder what happened to Amelia earhart? She flew too far. Gov't shot her down past the ice wall. They obviously couldnt have her come back from that trip, she would tell everyone"

"I myself subscribe to modern rational empiricism, in accordance to which OP's arguments are absolute bullshit. And yet the attempts to challenge his unfalsifiable beliefs have proven mostly futile. A great majority of those posting in this thread have no idea why they should believe the earth is round."

"There has to be trolling here, I seriously can't believe what I am reading."

"this is beyond epic"

"I'm starting to enjoy this so i'm upping you from a 2/10 to an 8 but it ends now."

"OP is now argueing since 6 hours. This is the longest discussion I've ever seen in my life. Of ALL discussions, not only 4chan."

"arguments presented thus far by flatty: >did you personally do the experiment? no? then the results are invalid >here's my evidence; as demonstrated in this experiment someone else did also >oh; you did the experiment itself and it basically shows that the earth is round? >there's probably crazy gravity or some shit; hell if i know or >just because we can't explain every one of these phenomena and a spherical model can doesn't mean we're wrong. i'm serious you guys also >pictures lie and you should never believe them; despite mind boggling quality and quantity available for universal use online"

"Explain how we can have fat asses and tennis balls but a flat fucking earth."

"9/10 OP, well done!"

#flat earth #4chan

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smittywing · 9 months

Text

Ficbit 8: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Possibly Bernard is not just cannon fodder.

Jason laid low for the next few weeks. There was a world-ending event that he noped out on and he entirely skipped one of the Riddler’s rampages by volunteering to substitute for Dick on an off-planet Titans mission. Dick and Tim got a lot more fun out of the Riddler than Jason ever did.

But eventually, Tim called for help and Jason was the closest.

Insectoid, three of them,and Robin was backed onto a roof by two while the other one poked holes in the asphalt below.

“Were these people?” Jason asked, landing on the rooftop and firing some rubber bullets in a gap between the carapace. One of the insectoids shrieked.

“Nope,” Robin replied. “Feel free to use the real things, but I need you ground level, this was some kind of restaurant experiment gone wrong and there are people down there.”

“Sure you’re okay up here?” Jason checked.

“Bernard’s down there,” Tim said, and oh. Of course.

“On it,” Jason said crisply and fired off a rappelling grapple. He swung easily to the ground and shot the knee out of the rampaging ant-thing on the ground. Well. One of the joints in one of the legs. Close enough. He didn’t actually have regular bullets on him because Gotham crime tended to be human-on-human or sometimes sentient-meta-on-human. But he certainly didn’t feel bad about using the rubber bullets at close range.

“On your six!” Great, citizen participation.

“Get down!” Jason roared and then spun on his heel to -

See Bernard Dowd, formerly known as Cannon Fodder, connect a solid roundhouse punch into the side of the insectoid’s leg joints.

What the actual shit.

“You just,” he gasped out with no idea how he was going to finish the sentence.

“I’ve been practicing!” Bernard called, his sneaker connecting with another appendage. “Keeps me in shape!”

“Great. Don’t die,” Jasons called back because Timmers would fucking *kill* him.

No wonder Replacement was so over the moon for this guy. Bernard was actually useful. Yeah, he wasn't going up against Shiva or taking the World’s Most Awesome Axe to any parademons, but Bernard was sufficiently competent to keep himself and some bystanders alive while Jason cleared the deck.

“Nice job,” he said reluctantly when the identified threats were down or in retreat. “You should get to safety though.”

“Nah,” Bernard said *right to Jason’s fucking face. “My boyfriend, Tim Drake, will be back in a minute. Nothing's going to happen to me when he's around.”

“Uh.” Jason was speechless. Quipless. Wordless, even. “Okay?”

Was Bernard legit telling Jason that he knew Tim was Robin?

No.

Yes?

Jason tilted his head.

Bernard blinked. He looked calm and confident.

No.

“Bernard!”

And sure enough, there was Tim Drake, jogging up to them.

“Okay,” Jason said to Bernard. “I’m out of here. Scream like a girl if you need me.” Tim gave him the hairy eyeball and Jason, who hated Bruce's disappearing bullshit, went with his grapple gun for the quickest possible exit.

“Hey, your internalized homophobia is showing,” Tim greeted Jason about three hours later.

“Huh?” Jason asked eloquently. Replacement was in his territory this time and his only reason for being there seemed to be policing Jason.

“Scream like a girl?” Tim prompted.

“No.” Jason stared at him. “You know I said that long before you came out. You do not get a buy for being gay.”

“Bi,” Tim corrected, smirking. Jason let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. “I get a buy for being bi.”

“Also,” he said, and smacked Tim upside the back of his head.

“Hey! What was that for!”

“You let me call your boyfriend Cannon Fodder for *months* and you knew he could fight!”

Tim grinned, and again Jason wondered at how talking about Bernard lit up his face.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding like a complete and total sap. “I mean, he doesn't have our training but he….” Tim fucking *blushed.*

“Oh my god, stop,” Jason said, because vicarious embarrassment was apparently a thing that affected him for the first time ever. “I’m just saying, he’s not complete Cannon Fodder.”

“He's been kidnapped four times,” Tim said matter-of-factly. “I’ve started calling him that in my head. Don't tell anyone.”

“Anyone?” Jason asked after a beat, because Blondie would *love* this.

“Don't even think about it,” Tim warned. “You know Steph would sell me out in a heartbeat.”

“How did you know I was talking about Blondie?” Jason demanded.

“Who else were you going to tell?” Tim asked. “Bruce, Tim let me call his boyfriend Cannon Fodder even though he can probably beat up the Riddler.”

“Did he beat up the Riddler?” Jason asked, because the Riddler *had* been rampaging last week and at this point, he’d believe it.

“No,” Tim said and then blushed. “A couple of his goons, yeah. He solved some of the riddles, too, which was fun.”

“Huh. Didn’t realize he knew the Secret. Does he know who I am?”

“What? No, he doesn’t know I’m Robin,” Tim said. “Riddler did the thing like in Keystone City a few years back and just airdropped a bunch of riddles on Midtown. So I picked some up and we figured them out, but he just thought we were doing it for fun.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked, thinking of their most recent interaction. “Because I think he knows.”

“Wow,” Tim said with a sigh. “My life would be so much easier if he did.”

Turns out Bernard knew exactly who Tim played dress-up as at night. He spilled the beans by rounding up Batman and Robin, Nightwing and Batgirl, Spoiler and Orphan, and half the marina to save Tim and Kate from the weird cult they’d infiltrated.

Jason wasn’t invited.

It was fine.

It wasn’t actually fine. Tim’s pupils had officially gone heart-shaped and being around him made Jason want to throw up a little bit in his mouth. He and Bernard did a lot of canoodling on the boat and Tim didn’t seek out Jason to discuss investigations or be extra muscle on his cases.

Jason missed Tim.

It wasn’t exactly something he was going to advertise so he kept to himself and patrolled his area of Gotham without venturing into anyone else’s territory.

Some people didn’t have the same compunction.

“You’re not coming to Tim’s birthday party?” Batman demanded. Because of course Bruce got dressed up in his scariest costume to come harass Jason about his social calendar. “I thought you were working to integrate more closely with the family.”

*I thought you were trying.*

“Maybe that was a mistake,” Jason said roughly. “Maybe I fucked up, old man.” He stared out over at the city, a collage of lights and shadows, beautiful and deadly, and superceding everything else, *home*.

“Hrm. Oracle. Is this roof blacked out?”

Jason didn’t hear the answer but a second later, Bruce pushed the cowl back. Jason turned his head automatically, like he was compelled to make sure it really was Bruce under there.

“Tim’s disappointed we haven’t heard from you. He assumes you’re not coming.”

“Good detective work on his part.” Jason approved. “Because I’m not.”

“When I was your age,” Bruce said, and then winced. “This is making me feel old.”

Jason tossed him a look that was meant to mean, *get on with your point or get off my roof* but may have included some, *there’s some self-awareness for you.*

“Anyway. I had a crush on someone I shouldn’t have,” Bruce confessed. “Someone married, actually. He wanted to stay in the closet. And he did. I never told him how I felt. And I lost him.”

Bruce put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and Jason felt like his insides were caving in.

“I have a lot of regrets,” he said. “Don’t be me.”

“So you’re saying I should just barge in and break up Tim and Bernard,” Jason asked, letting go of all his secrets. After all, who was he, trying to hide something from Batman?

“No,” Bruce said. “But I’m on your side, Jaylad.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Bruce said, pulling his cowl back up. “I don’t want that kid to be cannon fodder but he’s really intent on putting himself in the middle of everything.”

“You’re never on my side,” Jason accused.

“How are you always so sure which side I’m on?” Batman asked, and stepped onto the brick wall lining the roof. He shot a grapple and paused before jumping. “Don’t let this be the thing that defeats you.”

And he was gone.

#batbrats #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #jason todd/tim drake #red hood/red robin #jaytim #batfam #batman #bruce wayne

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isaactheterrible · 1 year

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Tf2 Mercs Ideal Dates

(Disclaimer: That's what I think the ideal date would be for the TF2 Mercs based on their personalities in the comics. These are just my personal opinions, don't take it too personally)

1.Soldier

•Date:

-Hold up bucko you're in for a tough one

-Congratulations you're going on a mission!

-Are you stalking random strangers because Soldier convinced himself their spies?

-Did the two of you get roped into fighting an evil wizard or a crooked corporation?

-Either way you're trauma bonded to Soldier now and he had the time of his life

-He's gonna be bragging about this mission for decades but after countless retellings it's gonna sound nothing like what actually happened

-You love him anyway

•Gift:

-What do you think of necklaces and human ears?

2.Engineer

•Date:

-What do you mean staying at home and binge-watching shows isn't a date?

-Oh well

-It's a picnic!

-He baked you both of your favorite deserts

-If the two of you don't die of heatstroke while out in the texan sun you'll have a wonderful time!

•Gift:

-The countless stuff he baked for you, quit being an ungrateful asshole

3.Demoman

•Date:

-Bar date, duh

-The bartender treats you nicely cause demo's a good tipper (and a regular.)

-The two of you have the time of your lives chatting and drinking the night away

-Taste test different recipes for the bartender

-You barely manage to stumble your way back home

•Gift:

-One of those mix tapes they sell by the side of the street (y'all got scammed)

4.Heavy

•Date:

-Library date!

-Heavy's the sweetest

-They two of you will talk for hours about your favorite books

-He's incredibly intelligent and a perfect gentleman❤️

•Gift:

-A copy of a book he thinks you'll love 💕

5.Pyro

•Date:

-Amusment park date!

-It's wonderful and you're all having fun

-Their favorite game is bumper cars

-Security tried to kick you out (Key word: Tried.)

-The amusements park's on fire by the end of it

-Congratulations! You're a felon now!

•Gift:

-Plushies from one of those shooting games (They got frustrated and burned the booth down and stole all the plushies)

6.Scout

•Date:

-I hope you like sports

-You're going to the stadium to watch Scout's favorite team

-Shitty overpriced hotdogs

-Matching couples outfits! ...Of identical sports merch

-Both of you will scream yourselves hoarse cheering by the end of it

•Gift:

-Ice cream while he walks you home!💕

7.Medic

•Date:

-Movie date!

-If you can get this man off his work long enough to ago on a date with you, the two of you go to the cinema to watch a movie... Human centipede it's human centipede

-You try not to worry about him getting inspiration

-Thankfully once you leave the cinema he rants about how unrealistic and stupid the idea was

-You sigh a sigh of relief as you go to bed

-You think you're safe now

-You think you're safe

•Gift:

-When you wake up in the morning you find a letter, it's a cute love note!❤️ (Good ending)

8.Spy

•Date:

-Romantic diner

-Basic french bitch

-Pays for dinner + brings you flowers

-Spend the night wining and dining away!

•Gift:

-An expensive piece of your preferred jewelry, probably something with a gem on it

9.Sniper

•Date:

-Time to meet your in-laws

-If you made it to this point congratulations! You're leaving here either engaged or broken up with (or dead)

-He doesn't trust anyone so to have him introduce you to his inner circle is a huge deal!

-Having his special one meet his parents is both an incredibly stressful and rewarding thing to do!

-If you get along with his parents he decides he'll marry you right then and there

-Still gonna background check you for the 743859th time to check if you're legit

•Gift:

-Just you wait and you're gonna get a ring around that finger

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pisupsala · 1 year

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Of All The Stars in The Sky | 6 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Summary | War looks different from high above in the sky. But when Bradley finds himself on the ground, far behind enemy lines, it becomes a race against the clock to get out. And try not to look back at what he’s leaving behind.

Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)

Warnings |Mature content | 18+ only[WWII AU] swearing, war, violence, death, explicit smut

Words | 5.3k

Library

Chapter 6 - It’s Just The Time for Dancing

The next few days pass quietly for you. Which is a good thing, really. Your lip still hurts from biting it so hard. Luckily, it didn’t swell much. You need a few days to get back into your daily routine, making sure you are where you are supposed to be, and you’re seen by the people who need to see you. The tram driver on your morning route, the lady at the bakery on the corner, your co-workers as you clock in, the security guard reading the newspaper under his desk—everything is normal, everything is routine, everything is as it should be.

Except for the American pilot you have hiding in the loft. But no one needs to know about that.

You exhale heavily, puffing out your cheeks as you look at the wet streaks your mop leaves on the marble floor. Finally back on the evening shift, you spend the hours after dark mopping floors, dusting shelves, wiping down desks, swiping ration books, polishing brass doorknobs, collecting forgotten cups, forging two new identity cards, dusting shelves and taking out the trash.

It’s an unpopular shift for many reasons. On a bad day, you’re cleaning until midnight. And it’s generally a creepy place. The Ministry of Interior is housed in an imposing, modern-looking building that, at best, looms ominously over the city from its position on top of one of the hills surrounding the river valley. And at night, when the building sits deserted, a chill sets over the place. Many of your coworkers speak of strange sounds, like the ghostly ticking of typewriters echoing through the halls and strange shadows moving in locked rooms.

You don’t mind, though. Possibly because you were the source of those phenomena. The national police and gendarmerie are headquartered here, and for all the reorganization for efficiency in the last few years, civil servants will always be too overworked to really notice (or care) about small discrepancies in the paperwork. Or they are crooked, which makes getting ration books near child’s play. Plenty of crooked cops sell them on the black market, so they usually keep a stack stashed away somewhere—a somewhere you’re bound to find as a cleaner—and it’s not like they can report them missing.

And it’s really nice of them to have all the forms prepared like that—it saves you a lot of time filling in travel permission forms, adding a stamp here, making a file disappear there, and creating two new identities with legit personal numbers.

Because all the forms are the same and most people working here fill them in on autopilot, they most likely can’t recall which they actually did, or which might have been slipped into there by you. The efficiency of the system has made it so monotonous that it dumbed everyone involved down, ironically.

It’s the day shift that generally gives you the shivers. When the place is filled with men and women with sour faces and their ill-fitting suits, complaining about the workload, dutifully submitting their reports on people and signing off on another arrest, another cog in the machine of the regime.

No, you’ll take ghosts over those beasts any day.

Carefully reaching under your tabard apron, you adjust the ration books tucked between the waistband of your skirt, making sure your sweater is covering them. First, you have to finish mopping this hallway, and then you will wipe down the desks in the offices on this floor, paying extra attention to the desk of the officer handling identity cards.

You take your time mopping. It’s natural to want to work fast as the adrenaline starts pumping in anticipation of… well, committing a crime. Even if you believe it’s for the greater good, identity fraud is not a small crime. Besides, the more people filter out of the building, not wanting to spend a minute more here than necessary, the less noise there is.

The empty, almost gaping halls and cold marble floors might feel might be spooky in the way they eerily echo the smallest sounds, but they also make it virtually impossible for anyone to sneak up on you.

Slowly, lowly humming, you work your way down the hall. The dirty water sloshes in the metal bucket as you carry it into the stairwell, leaning your mop against the wall. You wait for a moment, listening for any sounds from the other floors. It’s quiet. Good. Fishing a dusting rag from your apron. Time to get those desks cleaned.

By the time you reach your destination, your heart starts beating harder. You force yourself to breathe calmly—don’t let fear rule you. You’re going to need a steady hand.

You wait a moment in front of the office door. Still not a sound.

Now you hurry. With quick movements, you pull out registration forms from different folders, so the ID numbers are not consecutive, and therefore will be easier to… lose in the filing system. Sitting down at the desk, you stretch and flex your fingers.

Calm.

You start diligently filling out the forms on the typewriter—the quicker, the better, because this is the noisy part. New names, new birthdays—new people. Carefully, you unscrew the cap of the too-fancy fountain pen, hesitating for a small second before copying the signature from one of the other papers on the table with a flourish. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t look quite perfect—actually, it’s better. It bears every mark of a hastily processed form by an overworked civil servant trying to get home at the end of the day, the authentication stamp smudging the still-wet ink, mindlessly filed away in the wrong folder. Everything just deliberate enough to make it look indistinguishable from regular incompetence.

You hesitate to remember when your brain switched gears like this, always looking to find a loophole, always looking to find a way around other people and essentially exploit their behavior. In high school, you once cheated on a biology test by peeking at your deskmate’s test paper. It was an inconsequential pop quiz. The deskmate in question was your best friend Eva, who would later get into med school. But still. You barely slept for the rest of the week until you got your grade because you were so scared the teacher knew and was going to fail you publicly.

It feels strange. Foreign. Like that fear you felt so profoundly at 16 was only a pebble skipping in the pond. You mull over the hollow feeling as you start filling in identity cards with a neat looping script, where it feels like that same pebble has been sinking deeper and deeper into dark dread. Every time you think you might have found the bottom of your greatest fears, something inevitably happens that pulls out the rug from under you.

Like Rooster.

His very presence feels like another rug pull.

And to your growing annoyance, despite every problem he poses, instead of working on some sort of solution, your mind wanders to that warm skin, that crooked, cocky smile—and god, that broad chest, those powerful arms, how comfortably close he seems to get to you and how some part of your brain is itching for more.

Just as you finish up, leaning your elbows on the polished wood as you resolutely screw the cap back onto the fountain pen, almost as if you’re hoping to screw a top onto your wandering thoughts.

You hear footsteps. Heavy footsteps, that are too close for comfort. You were so lost in thought you didn’t notice. Shit.

As you shoot up from the chair, swiping the identity cards from the desk and stuffing them into the waistband of your skirt, you hastily straighten your apron. In a flurry of movements, swiping the forms off the desk and stuffing them in the back of the first open file drawer, you go to grab your dusting rag, but with that, knock the fancy fountain pen off the table.

As the black pen with the fancy gold trim clangs loudly against the marble floor, you see the cap pop off in an almost comical, slow-motion way. The black ink splatters out over your shoes and socks. You curse, wide-eyed, ducking behind the desk, desperately trying to mitigate some of the horrendous mess you just got yourself into. The ink is staining your fingers and palms as you try to hide the absolute massacre you just caused. Your blood is rushing in your ears so hard you cannot even hear the footsteps anymore, and you can only hope that they passed you by now, that they didn’t need to be where you are, and they didn’t see you in the first place.

“Is someone in here?”

You are pretty sure you can feel the blood physically drain from your face—the deafening rush is suddenly replaced by an uncomfortable silence. The security guard, who is usually halfway down a bottle of cheap liquor at this hour and somewhere off in dreamland, has decided tonight to actually do his job.

Slowly, you get up, clutching the pen between your ink-stained fingers. You want to look up and see how the guard reacts, but you force yourself to keep your gaze trained on the toes of your dirty shoes.

You are known as the slowest cleaner. Kind of clumsy. That’s why you’re typically the last to leave. You don’t discourage the rumor—even though it stings. Sometimes you lean into it. Every time you feel a little bit less like yourself.

“Miss Anna?” The guard doesn’t even seem surprised. His voice sounds like brittle paper—he is an old man, after all. Back bent and fingers almost pulled into claws from a lifetime of heavy labor, his uniform seems to hang off his wiry form. You don’t actually know his name—the rest of the staff just refers to him as the gamekeeper, after the brand of cheap herbal brandy he seems to favor to keep him company on the night shift.

“I’m sorry sir, I…” You trail off, jerking your hands slightly in a graceless motion, drawing attention to them. “I just wanted to take a look.”

“Oh, you unlucky girl,” The guard sighs, part empathetic, part exasperated. “Clean up, you are going to miss your last tram.”

You nod, hurriedly starting to clean the mess with your dust rag.

“Is your bucket in the hall?” The guard asks, not unkindly. “You can mop up the mess quicker.” Nodding, you start moving towards the door, where the guard is still standing. He looks up and down at you, clicking his tongue as his gaze lands on your splattered shoes. “Just a bit of vinegar when you get home, and blot it out carefully.” He offers, in an almost fatherly tone.

“Thank you, I didn’t know that,” You smile awkwardly. “I thought I just ruined these.”

Water and soap work just as well, you know, but it’s best just not to say.

“Run along now.” He dismisses you as he starts down the hall, the other way from you. “People might get suspicious if you hang around too long.” The gamekeeper croaks, not looking back at you.

Your luck is up for tonight.

***

Bradley is bored.

Never in his life has he been this bored. In school, in detention, church on Sunday, every endless ocean crossing, where there’s no land in sight, and he’s just surrounded by a wide expanse of nothing on the horizon. Because at least there are always people around.

In his plane, up in the sky, he is pretty much alone. But even there, he can see his fellow aviators whiz by, he can hear their chatter on the radio. Even up there, he is never truly alone.

He doesn’t like being alone.

He also doesn’t like being bored. But the small room under the roof has little in the way of entertainment for his lonely days. Finally, he has a place where he can recuperate in peace at least.

It’s been over a week now.

Recuperating means laying in bed mostly, starting at the ceiling. The pain is getting less, but his energy is falling too. Sometimes Bradley moves through the room, leaning out of the small window, smoking. There’s not much to see but other rooftops, a few church spires on the horizon, and the blue sky.

He tries to stretch his sore muscles carefully, almost scared he’ll lose every part of his health (and vainly, physique) if he stays idle too long. There’s nothing much he can do about his ribs, the dull ache gets a little less every day, but they take a long time to heal. He has time in spades, he thinks bitterly. Bradley’s ankle was a different story. It looked horrendous in the first days he got to the safe house: swollen, hot, blue-ish bruises forming under the skin.

As your cool fingers graze over his ankle, you tell him to keep it elevated. If it doesn’t get better in a few days, you’ll find someone to help. Bradley doesn’t want his ankle to be broken, but he likes your soft and kind touch. He craves more of your touch. It’s in such stark difference to your serious expression and earnest tone.

When he’s alone again, sometimes he thinks of home, allowing himself to finally dwell on some thoughts he buried a long time ago. It’s strange—Bradley traveled many places with the Navy, never feeling particularly homesick. Probably because deep down, he was always convinced he’d return. He had to, right? It’s bad luck to dwell on death, but it’s foolish not to fear it. But now… now he’s dwelling on it. The thought of never seeing his home again, never visiting his parent’s grave again leaves him feeling hollow.

And guilty.

He meant to visit the grave site before he shipped out to Britain, but a particular blonde and bourbon caught his eye and he decided to wallow in that, rather than his own grief. Now there is no blonde, no bourbon, just him.

And sometimes you.

You are like a breath of fresh air.

Sure, you still don’t smile much—not as much as Bradley would like any way, and he entertains himself by getting a reaction out of you. But he looks forward to the moment when he hears your footsteps coming up the stairs. It’s been only a week and something, but Bradley is pretty sure he could pick out you padding up the stairs—gracefully, determined—in his dreams.

You bring him books to pass the time. They are old, dog-eared copies, some passages highlighted with a pencil, little notes in the margins in neat script, sometimes long-winded, sometimes no more than an exclamation mark or little cross. Bradley spends almost as much time reading as half daydreaming about you sitting at a desk, or sprawled out on a sofa, tapping a pencil against your lips, mouthing the words on the page. There is nothing particularly scandalous about those daydreams, if anything they feel strangely homely. Comforting. You’ve spent hours with these books, and they’re keeping him company now. A little bit like some part of you is with him all day. He likes that.

It’s small comforts until he hears your footsteps come up the stairs—sometimes you come around dusk, other times you keep him company in the morning.

You never tell him anything about what you do, or where anything comes from, dismissively waving your hand in reply, face unreadable. Food appears at his door every day like clockwork, but you stay mum on how it gets there.

When Bradley looks over your ink-stained fingers one late morning, catching them as you wave them through the air in that practiced nonchalant manner, he runs the pad of his thumb over the faded ink and red skin—you’ve clearly tried to scrub it off unsuccessfully—a beat of silence passes between you.

You can feel it in your bones.

Bradley notices how your palm flexes under his touch like you want to touch him back. You’re looking at him, lips parted ever slightly, breathing shallow.

“What did you do?” He asks softly, inadvertently breaking the spell. Bradley tries to ignore the sting as you immediately drop your hand from his, averting your gaze. Every time he thinks he might have found a way in with you, like he just about manages to catch a glimpse of what you are like underneath all the bits of untruth, diversion, and armor you seem to have wrapped around you, you seem to pull up your walls even higher.

The next few times you come to visit, you keep your distance from him. You ask about his ankle, but your hands stay put.

“It’s getting better.” He looks at you pointedly, sitting up in the bed. You don’t move from the chair at the small table on the other side of the room. “The swelling is as good as gone, and it doesn’t hurt when I walk.”

“That’s good.” You sound at least a little bit relieved. But you still don’t move from your spot.

That’s okay, Bradley tells himself. The why has him conflicted. Is it okay because you are his handler, and more interested in staying alive than him? He respects that, even if he’d still like to tease you a bit anyway.

A darker side chimes in: it’s okay. He can wait—snug on his perch. He’s a patient man.

And they always come to him in the end.

You will come to him.

Guilty, he shakes off the thought as soon as it rises. That’s not fair. It’s not a drunken tryst in a bar where he doesn’t have to think about what makes you tick, what makes him tick, and it’s mutually understood that that moment will be all it’ll ever be.

This is different. He depends on you. He can’t get a grip on you.

And quite frankly?

It scares the everloving shit out of him.

It exhilarates him.

“You look pretty nimble on your feet now.” You comment as you come into his small room one early evening. It’s sometime in late February, meaning Bradley has been missing in action for a month.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready to dance again.” He smirks, playfully extending his hand to you. Of course, you skillfully parry his gesture. There’s a playful glint in your eye as you shoot him a stern look. Undeterred, Bradley tucks his hand back into his pocket casually, as he watches you move around the small room.

“I got you something, Rooster.” You start, a little hesitantly. That catches Bradley’s attention. You are rarely hesitant when you speak to him—if you don’t want to answer or talk, you usually just don’t. “A few somethings, really.”

Somewhat bashfully, you hand him a large can of peaches. Fruits in winter wartime are somewhat of a rare treat, and typically when you happen upon some you use them for trading. It’s good to be in people’s good graces, or even better, have them owe you a favor. But this time, you figured Bradley might appreciate them. And you kind of want some yourself.

That’s the reason you kept the peaches. Right? You kind of want them, but you’d feel bad not sharing. And Bradley is the one cooped up in a safe house for weeks now. You’d be going stir-crazy in his position. Even though he appears as annoyingly positive as ever when you see him.

“Nice, where’d you get these?” He weighs the large can in his hand, his eyes keenly following your fingers as you unbutton your coat and unpin your hat, gently putting them away on the neatly made bed. You meet his gaze, before you force yourself to look away again.

“I brought two forks.” You reply instead. “You have a can opener here, right?”

“Yeah, it’s on the table.” As he puts the can down, he frowns for a moment. “Do you ever get tired of deflecting every other question?”

It comes out a bit sharper than Bradley wanted it to, and judging from the surprised look on your face, it cut a bit deeper than he had wanted it to. Your eyebrows raised, mouth open like you’re about to say something, but you seem to have frozen in the moment.

Tired? You think. Try utterly exhausted. Not one version of your life is authentic or complete—the handler, the roommate, the cleaner, the neighbor, the coworker, the friend, the daughter—you keep secrets from everyone everywhere, tell so many lies that it’s like you’re living all these different lives, and by god, you so desperately want to talk to someone about everything. But you can’t. You can’t even bring yourself to answer the most basic questions anymore without going down a list in your head if it’s safe to share that information or if it’s just easier to let a lie roll down your tongue instead.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you actually rendered speechless,” Bradley jokes lightly, breaking the too-long silence, trying to inject some levity back into the situation, almost nervously looking away from you and focussing on opening the can. You blink slowly and lick your lips. You want to tell Bradley about everything, what you really think, what you really feel, so there’s one person on this goddamn earth who will actually know you. But you bite your tongue and shrug instead.

“I would have actually answered you this time.” You reply, trying to match his joking tone. Bradley grins at you, as he places the opened can in the middle of the small table, and pulls out one of the chairs, gesturing you to sit down. Unable to keep a smile from tugging on your lips, you sit down, and Bradley pushes your chair in.

You shake your head, ignoring the flutter in your stomach.

Sitting across from each other, fishing slices of peach out of the opened tin, Bradley can’t help but study you. You look relaxed—chin resting on your palm, foot tucked under your leg on the chair, taking a small bite from the peach slice on your fork. Bradley is leaning on his elbow, bent slightly forwards, toward you as he casually lifts another slice out of the can. He is dressed so casually, his white shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. He seems perfectly unbothered to sit around with his undershirt on display—you can’t even complain. You’re just glad he isn’t going around shirtless. Right?

It’s one of those strangely intimate moments, that if it weren’t for the reality of the situation, could be… almost romantic. At a table together, sharing a dessert (of sorts), and talking about the books Bradley has been reading. You try not to have your mind addled by the notion that this is the closest thing to a date you’ve been on in almost two years. You try not to let the flutter in your stomach grow every time he says your name in that deep, velvety voice. You try to keep your heart from jumping in your throat every time he catches your eye with that lopsided grin on his face to see if his joke landed.

“There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Best to get back to business. “Now that you’ve healed enough to walk again-” “And dance again.” Bradley interjects playfully, leaning just that little bit closer to you over the small table.

“...and dance again.” You deadpan, the soft look in your eyes taking the sting out of your words. You sigh lightly before you continue. “You need to learn your way about the city. Where to go, where the escape routes are, and look like you belong when you walk around. We might get into a situation where there’s no one to take you, so you need to be able to do this by yourself.”

Bradley frowns. “What do you mean, if there’s no one to take me? Aren’t you supposed to be my handler until…”

He trails off, seeing the pained look on your face. You don’t say anything, and Bradley is actually grateful for that right now. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat a bit awkwardly.

“So, uhm -” You shift in your chair, sitting up a bit straighter. “I brought you some things. A map—wait, let me get it.” You get up, feeling strangely anxious. You grab your purse off the bed and take it back with you to the table. “So, here’s the map. It has the most important things, like the train stations and major roads marked.” “Thanks.” Bradley nods as he takes the map from you. He recognizes your neat script on the map, marking several landmarks. “Anything I should pay special attention to?”

You feel relieved Bradley is not joking right now.

“Mostly these two train stations and the surrounding areas. Either of these will most likely be part of your escape route.” You bend a bit further over the table, finger tracing the two marked points on the paper. Bradley feels like he should move back a bit, as he already knows that if he looks up now, your face will be close to his. He isn’t sure you are all that aware, focus on the map between you. He should really be a gentleman about this, but he’s also enjoying your proximity to him, and he’d like to enjoy it a little bit longer.

In the end, you make the decision for him, leaning back again.

“How quickly do you need me to have this memorized?” Bradley asks, looking up at you. You avoid his gaze. “We’ll start with the first route to the main train station tomorrow, so the sooner, the better.” You reply, still not looking at him, but rather at your own hands as you fidget. It’s strange to see you nervous, and Bradley wonders what is making you so anxious right now.

“I also got you new papers.” You push a small booklet toward him.

“Oh, you got me like a fake identity and everything?” Bradley curiously leafs through the booklet.

“Yeah, it’s legit as far as most police will be willing to look.”

“So what’s my cover story?” He asks curiously, a smile playing over his face again.

“It’s nothing special, so don’t read too much into it,” You shrug, trying to stop yourself from talking too fast. “It’s best to stay close to the truth anyway. When we go out, you still can’t talk, so I got you veteran status. We should be able to chalk it up to shell shock or something if we get stopped.”

You pause as Bradley nods.

“Also we’re married now.” You blurt out. Bradley’s head shoots up, eyes wide. “I - I mean our fake identities are married.” You amend, lamely.

You cringe, it seemed like such a good idea when you forged the identification cards, but now you’ve said it out loud, it almost feels like an admission of… something. To your mortification, Bradley just starts laughing. Of course. It’s preposterous, after all. He only likes to tease you, and you deluded yourself into thinking he might actually have any feelings for you. This means you must admit that you’ve developed feelings of your own.

Preposterous, indeed.

“Well, I suppose I could do a lot worse than you, sweetheart.” He is still laughing. You have difficulty wiping the hurt frown off your face, so you just look away. There’s absolutely no reason you should be taking this so personally, but you are embarrassed that Bradley laughing actually… hurts. It feels like you’re being rejected.

“I do have one question.” He adds, as he stops laughing, voice a lot more serious. You scrape together the courage to look at him, mouth set in a hard line. Bradley has a completely serious look on his face. “Why, pray tell, are we married, Anya?”

You take a breath, trying really hard to keep the hurt and embarrassment from creeping into your voice. “Because it looks weird for a man and woman to walk together without talking. No one will buy we’re friends—let alone dating—if we walk around mutely.”

“Fair,” Bradley admits. “But we have a bad marriage, then?”

“What?”

Bradley is momentarily taken aback by your sharp reaction, but grins at you anyway. It seems like this whole situation has you a little off-kilter, and he wants to rock your boat just a little more to bring the spitfire out. You look so offended, lip curled up in disgust, that the suggestion that your marriage must be bad. It’s adorable.

“We don’t talk, so our marriage must be bad, right?” He questions, doing his best to be serious.

“You think not constantly talking equates to a bad marriage, Rooster?” You question him back, a cutting edge to your words. Bradley loves how riled up you suddenly are.

“I think communication is important, Anya.” He replies smirking, leaning forward again. He’s pretty sure he just saw your eyebrow twitch.

“I agree, but being comfortable in silence together doesn’t mean there’s bad communication.” You retort in a low voice. You have no idea how you got to discussing what entails a good marriage instead of exit routes, but it has your stomach in twists. Bradley seems all too comfortable. Ass.

“Of course, and there are plenty of other ways to communicate.” If at all possible, Bradley’s smirk grows. The implication of his words hangs heavily between you. You should pull back now and end this conversation. This is probably what he always does, you think bitterly. There’s just no one else to focus his attention on. But you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting to you like that.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough how compatible we are, Rooster.” The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. You close your eyes for a moment to stave off the crushing embarrassment, before resolutely getting up, smoothing down your skirt, absolutely not wanting to sit here while Bradley laughs at you again.

There’s no use in editing your words, backpedaling that that was really not what you meant—it will only make it worse, and you will inevitably dig yourself into a deeper hole with him. Bradley gets up from the table at the same time, grabbing you by the elbow as you move past him. You inhale sharply as his large warm hand wraps around your arm.

You tug your arm sharply, but you don’t really stand a chance against Bradley’s grip. He’s not even holding onto you that tightly.

“Let me go, please.” Your voice is flat, words measured carefully. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Rooster. But I’d like to go home now.”

Bradley’s heart sinks a little bit. There it is again, your walls pulled up higher than ever before.

“It was just a bit of fun, Anya.” He tells you softly.

“Of course.” There’s a forced airiness to your tone. You jerk your elbow again, and he lets you go this time. You move past him, grabbing your coat and hat off the bed, before turning on your heel and going straight for the door. You snatch your purse off the table as you try to keep yourself from sprinting to the door.

Hand on the doorknob, you stop for a moment. Letting out a deep sigh, you turn around. You are overreacting.

“Sleep well, Rooster.” You tell him genuinely. He’s still standing in the middle of the room, face concerned. When your eyes meet, his lips quirk back up into a smile. A nice smile this time. You feel your own lips pull into a smile in response as you turn away again.

Everything about him is so magnetic, it’s pulling you out of orbit. You know it’s because you’re allowing yourself to become too comfortable around him. But he makes it so easy.

“Sleep well, Anya.” He tells you in that same deep voice that makes your insides quake as you slip out of the door.

note | It's been a while~ sorry <3 more will be coming soon.

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