#Maine Taxi Driver series

[spookcataloger]

Maine Taxi Driver Comp. 6 / FINAL (2015)

#/x/ 4chan #greentext #multipart story #Maine Taxi Driver series #spooky places #horror anthology #weird tales #haunted places #paranormal #urban legends #strange phenomena #spooky #cryptids #nope #LSoA

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Lies, damned lies, and Uber

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in PHOENIX (Changing Hands, Feb 29) then Tucson (Mar 10-11), San Francisco (Mar 13), and more!

Uber lies about everything, especially money. Oh, and labour. Especially labour. And geometry. Especially geometry! But especially especially money. They constantly lie about money.

Uber are virtuosos of mendacity, but in Toronto, the company has attained a heretofore unseen hat-trick: they told a single lie that is dramatically, materially untruthful about money, labour and geometry! It's an achievement for the ages.

Here's how they did it.

For several decades, Toronto has been clobbered by the misrule of a series of far-right, clownish mayors. This was the result of former Ontario Premier Mike Harris's great gerrymander of 1998, when the city of Toronto was amalgamated with its car-dependent suburbs. This set the tone for the next quarter-century, as these outlying regions – utterly dependent on Toronto for core economic activity and massive subsidies to pay the unsustainable utility and infrastructure bills for sprawling neighborhoods of single-family homes – proceeded to gut the city they relied on.

These "conservative" mayors – the philanderer, the crackhead, the sexual predator – turned the city into a corporate playground, swapping public housing and rent controls for out-of-control real-estate speculation and trading out some of the world's best transit for total car-dependency. As part of that decay, the city rolled out the red carpet for Uber, allowing the company to put as many unlicensed taxis as they wanted on the city's streets.

Now, it's hard to overstate the dire traffic situation in Toronto. Years of neglect and underinvestment in both the roads and the transit system have left both in a state of near collapse and it's not uncommon for multiple, consecutive main arteries to shut down without notice for weeks, months, or, in a few cases, years. The proliferation of Ubers on the road – driven by desperate people trying to survive the city's cost-of-living catastrophe – has only exacerbated this problem.

Uber, of course, would dispute this. The company insists – despite all common sense and peer-reviewed research – that adding more cars to the streets alleviates traffic. This is easily disproved: there just isn't any way to swap buses, streetcars, and subways for cars. The road space needed for all those single-occupancy cars pushes everything further apart, which means we need more cars, which means more roads, which means more distance between things, and so on.

It is an undeniable fact that geometry hates cars. But geometry loathes Uber. Because Ubers have all the problems of single-occupancy vehicles, and then they have the separate problem that they just end up circling idly around the city's streets, waiting for a rider. The more Ubers there are on the road, the longer each car ends up waiting for a passenger:

https://www.sfgate.com/technology/article/Uber-Lyft-San-Francisco-pros-cons-ride-hailing-13841277.php

Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After years of bumbling-to-sinister municipal rule, Toronto finally reclaimed its political power and voted in a new mayor, Olivia Chow, a progressive of long tenure and great standing (I used to ring doorbells for her when she was campaigning for her city council seat). Mayor Chow announced that she was going to reclaim the city's prerogative to limit the number of Ubers on the road, ending the period of Uber's "self-regulation."

Uber, naturally, lost its shit. The company claims to be more than a (geometrically impossible) provider of convenient transportation for Torontonians, but also a provider of good jobs for working people. And to prove it, the company has promised to pay its drivers "120% of minimum wage." As I write for Ricochet, that's a whopper, even by Uber's standards:

https://ricochet.media/en/4039/uber-is-lying-again-the-company-has-no-intention-of-paying-drivers-a-living-wage

Here's the thing: Uber is only proposing to pay 120% of the minimum wage while drivers have a passenger in the vehicle. And with the number of vehicles Uber wants on the road, most drivers will be earning nothing most of the time. Factor in that unpaid time, as well as expenses for vehicles, and the average Toronto Uber driver stands to make $2.50 per hour (Canadian):

https://ridefair.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Legislated-Poverty.pdf

Now, Uber's told a lot of lies over the years. Right from the start, the company implicitly lied about what it cost to provide an Uber. For its first 12 years, Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar it brought in, lighting tens of billions in investment capital provided by the Saudi royals on fire in an effort to bankrupt rival transportation firms and disinvestment in municipal transit.

Uber then lied to retail investors about the business-case for buying its stock so that the House of Saud and other early investors could unload their stock. Uber claimed that they were on the verge of producing a self-driving car that would allow them to get rid of drivers, zero out their wage bill, and finally turn a profit. The company spent $2.5b on this, making it the most expensive Big Store in the history of cons:

https://www.theinformation.com/articles/infighting-busywork-missed-warnings-how-uber-wasted-2-5-billion-on-self-driving-cars

After years, Uber produced a "self-driving car" that could travel one half of one American mile before experiencing a potentially lethal collision. Uber quietly paid another company $400m to take this disaster off its hands:

https://www.economist.com/business/2020/12/10/why-is-uber-selling-its-autonomous-vehicle-division

The self-driving car lie was tied up in another lie – that somehow, automation could triumph over geometry. Robocabs, we were told, would travel in formations so tight that they would finally end the Red Queen's Race of more cars – more roads – more distance – more cars. That lie wormed its way into the company's IPO prospectus, which promised retail investors that profitability lay in replacing every journey – by car, cab, bike, bus, tram or train – with an Uber ride:

https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSKCN1RN2SK/

The company has been bleeding out money ever since – though you wouldn't know it by looking at its investor disclosures. Every quarter, Uber trumpets that it has finally become profitable, and every quarter, Hubert Horan dissects its balance sheets to find the accounting trick the company thought of this time. There was one quarter where Uber declared profitability by marking up the value of stock it held in Uber-like companies in other countries.

How did it get this stock? Well, Uber tried to run a business in those countries and it was such a total disaster that they had to flee the country, selling their business to a failing domestic competitor in exchange for stock in its collapsing business. Naturally, there's no market for this stock, which, in Uber-land, means you can assign any value you want to it. So that one quarter, Uber just asserted that the stock had shot up in value and voila, profit!

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2022/02/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-twenty-nine-despite-massive-price-increases-uber-losses-top-31-billion.html

But all of those lies are as nothing to the whopper that Uber is trying to sell to Torontonians by blanketing the city in ads: the lie that by paying drivers $2.50/hour to fill the streets with more single-occupancy cars, they will turn a profit, reduce the city's traffic, and provide good jobs. Uber says it can vanquish geometry, economics and working poverty with the awesome power of narrative.

In other words, it's taking Toronto for a bunch of suckers.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/29/geometry-hates-uber/#toronto-the-gullible

Image: Rob Sinclair (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Night_skyline_of_Toronto_May_2009.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #uber #hubert horan #fraud #toronto #geometry hates cars #urbanism #ontpoli #olivia chow #self-regulation #transport #urban planning #taxis #transit #urban theory #labor #algorithmic wage discrimination #veena dubal

[sytoran]

accidental or not | teom part iii

Westview happens to have a gay bar. You give it a visit.

──── PAIRING. sub!milf!wanda x dark!player!reader

──── CONT. smut, one-night stands, vouyerism, exhibitionism, you'll understand later i swear, choking kink, breast play, vaginal fingering

──── WORD COUNT. 1.6k

series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

The first time was an accident.

“Fuck, right there,” she moans, hands twisting themselves into your hair as your mouth finds the sensitive spot on her neck, licking and sucking and marking.

You try to remember her name — Natalie? Nicole? — as you push her up against the wall, mouth hot and fervent and lusting and needy. Natasha, you finally settle on.

As it turns out, you couldn’t quell your desires, couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. It had been a grand total of three days since you moved into Westview, but then you found out about the bar located about a fifteen minutes drive away.

At the silhouette of a promise coming in the shape of a pretty woman, you couldn’t not go, could you?

All it took was a black collared shirt and shiny rings on your fingers before you had a woman pressing up against you on the dancefloor — effectively humping your thigh, by the way — and the two of you somehow made it back to your place without giving the taxi driver a free porno.

“More,” Natasha growls into your neck as you work on undoing the buttons of her blouse. Her nails scratch at the expanse of your shoulder blades, as if trying to leave imprints. You hum in response, sliding up her pretty skirt, hands going into her panties.

Your fingers find the wet slit easily and slide in, awaited with an immediate clenching. “Fuck,” you pant, unable to focus with her ripping off your belt and unbuckling your pants.

“Stop it,” you grunt, taking her wrists with one hand and pinning it above her head. You lean closer, warm breath on her neck, delighting in the visible shiver that runs through her body. “We’ll take that off when I’m done, yeah?” you ask slowly, eyes darkening in arousal at the breathy moan Natasha lets out.

“Words, darlin’,” you murmur, running a finger down the curvature of her face, to the delicacy of her neck, to the line of her sternum. God, you loved women.

“Okay,” she managed to say, words spilling out from the sides of her mouth like an unstoppable dam, breath coming out in ebbs and flows that you drank up. “Please. Please, just fuck me.”

Sooner than later, you have your rough fingers exploring her wet cunt to mark out every crevice and every sweet spot. You gauge her reactions, calculate her pleasure, want to make her feel more-

“Upstairs,” you say in a low breath, cutting off your own thoughts, picking Natasha up as she lets out an exhalation of surprise.

She tilts her head inquisitively at your spontaneity. “You seem more fit than the regular gym goer,” she mentions, legs swinging as you climb up the stairs. “Athlete?”

You stiffen, and perhaps she notices it too. “Nah,” you answer, the lie tasting dry on your lips. “Seems like a rather stressful.”

It’s a one-night stand. No strings attached, no validity at stake. And that means no truths, either.

Before you can make it into the bedroom, the redhead twists out of your grasp once again, lips meeting yours in frenzied chaos. “Impatient,” you mutter dryly, left hand cinching around her neck and placing pressure on the pulse point. Natasha lets out a filthy moan.

When her bare back presses against the cold glass of the full-length window, your body follows dutifully.

Your knee goes in between her legs to provide a semblance of friction and a surface for her to dry hump on. “Shit,” she gasps, a hot cunt finding the muscle of your thigh in no time. “Feels good.”

The eager response to your ministrations only spurs your hands to get more busy, going behind Natasha’s back to unclasp the bra. Your knuckles brush against the cold glass of the window.

The moment her bra drops, you're quite sure you start drooling.

"You're definitely a tits over ass kinda gal, huh?" she teases at your ogling, using those hands to push up her breasts and make them look even more mouth-watering. Your eyes are hungry, devouring, scanning over the cleavage and her nipples and her mounds– god, you can feel the redhead get wetter on your thigh and it turns you on to no end.

"Ya think?" your response is hoarse, late, but you can’t feasibly care.

When your mouth wraps around a hardened nipple all caution is thrown to the wind. The mocking lilt in her voice simply breaks off into a high-pitched moan.

You just love the feeling of her tits in your hands, massaging and kneading and squeezing as your mouth works on the nipples. Lathering your hot tongue over the tip then swirling around the areola, taking your time.

Natasha tugs on your hair, pulling your mouth closer around her breast. Her trails of soft praises and cries of pleasure are a surefire sign you’re doing a good job.

It's only after a good five minutes of heated sucking that you get the faint feeling of someone watching. eyes, on you.

Natasha doesn’t seem to notice, pressing up against the glass of the window, in disbelief that she’s about to orgasm with only breast play.

The caution you threw to the wind earlier falls back into your grasp. You take your mouth off, albeit begrudgingly, and rise to your full height again, towering over the smaller woman.

Despite Natasha’s furious cries of denial, your hand goes back around her neck, and the woman melts in your hands like putty. “You wanna get off on my thigh, or you want me to help you out?” you ask, low in her ear, once again reliving the thrill of seeing her goosebumps raise.

“Help,” Natasha gasps in a choked whimper, when your fingers begin pinching her taut nipples. “Help me, please.”

You don’t deny the woman this time, setting her on your thigh properly as she undulates her hips against your muscle. Your hands go to play with her tits again.

Taking Natasha’s distraction as a sign, you finally look up, across the window, attention now diverted.

The first time was an accident.

But when your eyes lock with those sacred green ones again, you almost lose all your breath. There’s Wanda Maximoff, your neighbour, the married woman, the ethereal being with the viridescent eyes. And her eyes are trained on you and Natasha.

She had been watching, the whole time, from her own bedroom window.

Your heart was rising, soaring, lighter than it had ever been but heavy with a twisted sense of arousal. Wanda stood, shell-shocked, a slow blush overtaking her face at having been caught.

The first time was an accident, because you didn’t mean to notice the way her eyes fluttered over the both of you, the way her hands fidgeted, the way her thighs deliciously clenched-

Oh, it had been so long since you felt like that.

You loved that reaction. you wanted more.

No, you needed it.

So, against all sense of moral compass, against all hitherto goodwill — you don’t break apart in embarrassment, or stop fucking the pretty girl in front of your neighbour — you just smirk.

You actually smile, lips curving up dangerously, dripping with venom, eyes darkening impossibly more, pupils dilating even further. You feel those dark desires taking over you like it had so many times before, and this time you know you won’t be able to stop.

And in front of wanda, you continue. “Let go, baby,” you say to Natasha. You grab her hips, she's putty in your arms. Tossing her around and pressing her tits right up against the glass, you meet those green eyes again.

The opposing woman is rooted to the spot, eyes widened with fear and arousal.

Your experienced fingers easily find natasha’s clit after a good minute of finger-fucking, pinching the swollen clit between your long fingers as your hot breath runs down her bare back.

"I can't! I can't! Oh, I'm gonna squirt," Natasha cries, throwing her head back, and you finger her pussy open, still looking across the window, directly into the eyes of your watching neighbour.

“Please!” Natasha’s cry is sweet as she reaches her climax. She squirts, as she kindly mentioned earlier, and it goes all over the glass. “Pretty girl,” you whisper into her ear, and you don’t know if you’re talking about the woman in front of you or the one in the next house.

The first time was an accident.

Speaking of said woman, she’s still standing there, mouth open slightly. Wanda’s tongue darts out to run over her tantalizing lips, and you get the criminal urge to do it for her.

Tearing your eyes off hers, you avert your attention to Natasha once again. Her knees have buckled, and the only supporting weight is your forearms. “That was amazing,” Natasha breathes, and you smile, giving her a small peck on the top of her head.

“Another?” you ask, softly, and Natasha lets out a breathy laugh and then an eager nod. She jumps and wraps her legs around your torso, and you bring your face closer to steal another kiss.

When you leave a last look at the neighbours’ house, the curtains are shut, yet again.

===

After hours of worshipping Natasha in your bedroom, desperately trying to think of her and not your neighbour, you collapse into the bed. Natasha’s already fallen prey to the temptation of sleep, her cunt thoroughly wrecked.

With a shuddering breath of release, you close your eyes.

You had just properly fucked a woman in front of your hot neighbour, who happened to be very married. On…… accident?

The first time may have been an accident, but the next time you weren’t so sure if it still would be.

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @scarsw1fe @jlsammy23 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @girllcver @natashaswife4125 @godsfavouritelesbiann @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33-mrvl @kellyc30-blog @eatkobi @cqllarbones @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen @Cooldogs02 @jedi-athen-orion @alyciaddict @blackqueensforeva @lovelyy-moonlight@gingerninja1993@yourfavdummy @iliketigobities @scarlttolsn @blackbirdv98 @mxxnligxt @riomiyawakisstuff @alex4424 @0DeadandCold0 @mr.romanoff @mandy-asimp @idontwannabehereatm @daenerys713

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#marvel women #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #marvel smut #wanda x reader smut #sub wanda #bottom wanda maximoff #dom reader #top reader #gxg smut #wlw smut #wanda maximoff smut #sub wanda maximoff #teom series #wanda maximoff #x reader

[bellaxgiornata]

Break the Tension [Chapter One "The Arrival"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: When Marci first asked you to be the Maid of Honor at her and Foggy’s wedding, you'd already been forewarned that your old college rival from Columbia, Matthew Murdock, would be Foggy’s Best Man. And while you'd expected a long weekend filled with tension between the pair of you, you hadn't anticipated all of the sexual tension–or the sex.

Warnings/tags: 18+; Enemies to lovers, sexual tension, smut, semi-public sex, light angst

a/n: This is a short series (planned for seven parts) and I just really needed to get the idea out of my head. This is definitely not my usual Matt x Reader dynamic nor the usual cocky Matt in an enemies to lovers fic; you'll see why even more in chapter two. Let's just say Matt needs the smug wiped off his face and I wanted to see him desperate. Feedback is always appreciated! The chapter list can be found here!

Tag list: @mattkinsella @danzer8705

The taxi driver hefted your suitcase out of the trunk of his car, setting it onto the circular gravel driveway beside you with an audible huff of exertion. You watched as he wiped a hand across his forehead, one hand still holding the hanger of your dress high above your head so the white garment bag wouldn't drag along the ground. 

“Thank you,” you said, arm already growing tired from holding up your dress.

The man closed the trunk of the taxi, turning around and sending you a friendly smile. “Of course, miss,” he replied. “I hope you have a lovely weekend. Certainly looks like a nice place you’re staying at.”

You laughed lightly in return, wishing the man a good day before he turned and headed back to the driver’s side of the car. Lifting up the handle of your suitcase that you'd brought for the weekend, you turned and focused on the grand building before you. It was easily two levels tall with trails of ivy growing along most of the stone exterior between the numerous large windows. The manor itself was impressive with two wings branching off either side of the main building. The front driveway you were currently standing on led up to a walkway that wound between an impressive garden of hedges and flowers. In the center was a large fountain, and the peaceful sound of the water spewing forth met your ears once the taxi had finally driven off behind you.

The venue was massive, boasting quite an expansive plot of acreage that it was nestled inside–or so Marci had told you during all the wedding planning. A long, winding road encompassed by trees on either side had led up to Fairfield Manor, and not too far behind the manor you'd spotted what looked like a forest when the taxi had pulled up. You were positive if you consumed too much alcohol this weekend and wandered outside past sunset, you'd surely end up lost.

As much as Marci had shown you photos of the place, gushing over it repeatedly to you about how perfect it was for her and Foggy’s wedding, the photos certainly hadn’t done it justice. 

Beginning to make your way up to the entrance of the manor, you walked towards the winding path which led through the stunning garden out front, carrying your dress and toting your luggage behind you. Seeing the place in person had left you wondering how Foggy and Marci had afforded this venue for an entire three days. You figured Foggy’s firm must’ve been doing well because Marci’s salary alone couldn't possibly have paid for everything. Though with how extravagant it was, it most certainly screamed Marci.

This weekend the entire bridal party, along with Marci and Foggy’s immediate family, were staying here for the duration of the wedding festivities. Tonight you were practicing the rehearsal for the wedding ceremony here at the venue before heading to a nearby restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow was the big wedding day itself, which meant an early morning start for hair and makeup during breakfast, followed by an incredibly long day and probably a drunken evening. Then on Sunday Marci had scheduled a late morning brunch before everyone departed the manor, allowing a bit more time to visit before the newlyweds left for their honeymoon.

Coming to a stop before the large, ornate wooden door that seemed to tower over you, you released the handle of your luggage long enough to push it open. Immediately you were met with the sound of voices and loud, boisterous laughter coming from a hall to your right as the door swung wide into the foyer. Though as you began to pull your suitcase into the building, still juggling your garment bag in your other hand, your ears picked up on the sound of a familiar voice. One you hadn't heard in a long time.

One that instantly set you on edge.

It was annoying that he was here. Of course you'd expected it–Marci had warned you ahead of time–but actually seeing him again this weekend was going to be another story. 

Matthew Murdock. The cocky fuck boy of Columbia who thought he was smarter than you, always going out of his way to show you up and point out your every mistake because one time you had embarrassed him by correcting him in class. He was an asshole, always so irritatingly ethical for a man who slept around without a care for anyone's feelings. Though of course he'd never flirted with you , always choosing to argue with you instead. And when graduation day had come, he'd certainly rubbed it in your face that he'd been top of the class. 

Though what he hadn't known was that you'd spent most of your time busting your ass working at a coffee shop just to try to pay what the scholarships wouldn't cover of your tuition while your mother was struggling with a cancer diagnosis. Thankfully she'd gone into remission not long after you'd graduated, but still, Matthew Murdock had made college miserable for you on top of everything you’d had going on. And you'd despised him for it.

So you certainly weren't excited to see him this weekend.

Setting your luggage down and turning back around to close the heavy door after yourself, you forced yourself to take a deep breath and remain calm. You were here for Marci, after all. This weekend was a big moment for her and you were excited and grateful to be a part of everything. She was one of your best friends. And truthfully you'd never had issues with Franklin Nelson. He had at least always been cordial and friendly to you. 

So you weren’t going to think about him .

The moment you’d shut the door with a solid thud , you heard your name being excitedly called from behind you. Spinning around with a smile already plastered across your face, you spotted Marci with outstretched arms racing towards you across the foyer. Her short, flowy white dress fluttered around her legs as she nearly jumped on you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You’re finally here!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering when you’d show up!”

"Sorry, I got caught up at work," you told her, squeezing her just as tightly back the best you could with your dress still in hand. "Had some details to finalize before I was gone for the weekend and you know how Sheridan gets."

Marci pulled away from you, rolling her eyes at the mention of your boss. 

"I do, in fact," she answered. "But you're here now so let's not talk about work! Come on, let's get your things to your room. It's almost time for the rehearsal."

Grabbing your luggage handle you followed Marci down the hallway, wheeling your bag behind you in one hand and now no longer as concerned about the garment bag dragging along the floor in your other, your arm tired from holding it above your head for so long already. As the pair of you walked, you could see a group of others that you assumed were the bridal party already congregating about midway down the hall, drinks in their hands and dress clothes on. The sight was a reminder that you’d still have to change quickly before the events of the evening because you hadn’t wanted to stay in the dress slacks and blouse you had worn to work earlier for the duration of the evening. 

"I take it I'm the last one to arrive then?" you asked Marci.

The sound of both of your heels clicking along the marble floor echoed around the elaborate hallway as the pair of you walked. Your eyes scanned each painting lining the walls that you passed, noticing each one was a beautiful watercolor of a picturesque scene. Overhead you noticed the ornate chandeliers hanging down, the crystal glinting in the light. Truthfully this place was stunning. 

"Yes, but that's alright," Marci answered, waving a hand. "I appreciate that you sent a text as a forewarning though. But," she continued, glancing at you over her shoulder and wincing before she leaned in to whisper, "that also means you're the last to pick a room. So you sort of…don't get to pick."

Shoulders sagging, you shot Marci a flat look. "What's that supposed to mean? Is the heat not working in it or something? Or it's haunted by a hundred year old ghost?"

Marci shook her head, a sheepish smile on her face. "No, it just means the only room left is the one…next to Matt’s," she answered softly. 

You came to an abrupt halt, stopping dead in your tracks and closing your eyes. Your first instinct was to turn around and call that taxi back to see if you could catch a ride back to the city. It was bad enough you'd have to be cordial to Matt this weekend, but you certainly did not want to interact with him more than necessary. 

But you were here for Marci this weekend, you reminded yourself again. It was only for a few days that you’d be staying here and having to run into him, and then you'd go back to never running into him again in the city. And it would be heaven. Inhaling a deep breath, you forced a smile onto your face as you focused back on Marci.

“I know you both never really got along but–”

"It’s okay," you replied slowly, shaking your head. "So our rooms are next to each other for a few days? Not a big deal," you said, trying to convince yourself just as much as Marci. "Doesn't mean I'll have to talk to him. Or see him. Or anything more than necessary."

"Right," Marci agreed, nodding quickly. "Exactly. You two only need to interact for the wedding and the rehearsal a bit.” 

With a sigh you grabbed your luggage, continuing to make your way back down the hall with Marci at your side. But as the pair of you began to pass the group of bridal party members already loudly conversing with Foggy, you heard them call out to Marci, begging her to stay and join them. Attention shifting to the group, your eyes almost instantly landed on Matt standing just beside Foggy. Your jaw clenched at the sight of him, your hand tightening around the handle of your luggage as your back stiffened.

He was dressed in a nice pair of slacks, a white dress shirt with a dark red tie, and a dark suit coat. He'd apparently switched out those black rectangular glasses he always wore in college, exchanging them for some round ones with red lenses. Admittedly they looked good on him, which only annoyed you further. Because of course he'd grown more attractive in the years since you'd last seen him–he even seemed broader and somehow more muscular under that fitted suit coat with the buttons of his dress shirt straining at the seams. Though you had a strong feeling he was probably still the same flirty asshole you remembered him as, maybe even worse now since he could throw around that he had his own law firm. And the stupid smile on his face as his head turned in your direction only irritated you.

"I'll be back in a minute," Marci told the group. She said your name, telling them you'd just arrived. "I was going to show her to her room. Help her get settled first."

"No, that's alright. Go on," you assured her, gesturing your head to the group. "I can find the room on my own. I need to change anyway and then I can join everyone."

"You sure?" Marci asked carefully, focusing back on you.

"Yeah, don't worry about me," you replied.

And that’s when you heard it. Matt saying your name, the sound of it on his lips causing your eyes to narrow as your head turned slowly back towards him. It had been so long since you’d heard him say it, yet it still had your blood boiling almost instantly. The smug smirk that quickly grew on his mouth wasn't helping, either.

"Showing up late?” Matt teased you. “Even after all these years, you still need to make everyone wait on you?”

You bit back the comment forming on your tongue. This was not the time nor the place and you certainly weren’t going to let him openly get a rise out of you in front of everyone. Though it didn’t escape your notice when Foggy nudged Matt’s shoulder, leaning in and whispering something to him.

“Some of us had work to finish, Murdock ,” you countered briskly. Turning your attention back to Marci, you told her, “I’ll get changed fast and be right out. I won’t keep you waiting on me.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” Marci told you, shooting Matt a glare that you know Foggy saw. “We’ll be here a bit longer before we head down to the ceremony location out in the courtyard. And your room is just at the end of the hall,” she continued, pointing down the hallway. “Room twelve. On the right.”

You thanked her before continuing the rest of the way towards your room, fuming internally because you’d been here a matter of minutes and Matt was already getting under your skin. It didn’t bode well for the rest of this weekend.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest and your focus fixed straight ahead on the wedding coordinator who was currently running over details about tomorrow’s ceremony with Foggy and Marci. The rest of the bridal party had been paired and lined up at the back of the courtyard behind you, all of you patiently awaiting instructions on what to do next. 

There was a lot of chatter coming from the group behind you, too. All of the other bridal party members were taking the time to get to know their partners, animatedly talking to each other. Unfortunately you being the Maid of Honor when Matt was the Best Man meant you two were stuck together for the wedding events this weekend. Currently you were doing your best to ignore his irksome presence beside you as he continued to tap his cane against the stone pavement, the repetitive sound causing you to grind your teeth back and forth. It didn’t help that you were forced to stand so close to him that you could feel the warmth of his body along your bare right arm, the heat of it raising goosebumps. But it was only because it was early fall and a little chilly outside; you couldn’t help it that the bit of warmth happened to feel good.

“So are you just planning to ignore me the entire weekend?” Matt asked softly, leaning slightly towards you as he spoke.

“I would prefer to, yes,” you answered simply.

Matt laughed bitterly, shaking his head. The gesture caught your attention and you glanced at him beside you through narrowed eyes.

“What?” you asked him.

“Just can’t believe you haven’t changed after all these years,” he replied.

Eyebrows shooting up onto your forehead at his comment, you gaped at him. Was he serious ?

“That’s funny coming from the self-important asshole who upon hearing I’m here decides to immediately make a rude comment,” you shot back. “Pretty sure you haven’t changed one bit, Murdock.”

“And you’re apparently still stuck on using my last name,” he quipped back, his head turning towards you as that smirk you hated tugged at his lips. “Why is that, I wonder?” 

He leaned over just a bit, his mouth gradually lowering beside your ear. You felt a shiver run up your spine when his warm breath grazed your neck. You told yourself it was due to the chill of the evening and not whatever effect he thought he had on you.

“Is it because you’ve always been afraid that you might actually enjoy saying my name? That you might like the taste of it on your tongue, sweetheart?” he purred in your ear. 

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed back, your hard stare focused ahead of you once again. “I’m not like those other women, Murdock. Don’t use that patronizing pet name of yours to lump me in with everyone else that bullshit works on. Because your so-called ‘charm’ doesn’t work on me.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, straightening back up beside you. “You sure it doesn’t?”

A second later you felt his fingertips lightly brush against your thigh, grazing your skin just beneath the hem of your dress. You sucked in a breath and held it, your eyes falling shut at the warmth of his calloused touch. Matt had never flirted with you before–and he’d certainly never touched you before. You’d only ever seen him try to work his charm on other women, so what the hell was he doing right now? Was he actually interested in you?

Though when he chuckled softly beside you, your eyes immediately flew open again. Your heart began to pound hard in agitation as opposed to whatever it was that had sped it up a moment ago. Because the cocky asshole had done that on purpose . He was fucking with you, just like he’d always done in college. Except this time it felt significantly more embarrassing because, for the briefest of moments, it had felt good when he’d touched you.

“Seems like it might, sweetheart,” he whispered back. 

“Use my name if you have a need to speak with me, Murdock,” you ground out between clenched teeth, your cheeks heating. “Though I’d prefer if we kept our interactions limited this weekend so we don’t ruin things for Marci and Foggy.”

“Oh you’ve grown so much more bossy ,” Matt teased in delight. “That makes ignoring what you want that much more fun, sweetheart.”

As the wedding coordinator began to make her way back towards the bridal party still lined up, you expelled a sharp breath from your nose. Your hands balled into fists as you hugged your arms tighter over your chest, your nails biting into your palms. This weekend was going to be far worse than you’d imagined. Initially you’d hoped that Matt had grown up since graduation, willing to let whatever it was that made him a prick to you go for a few days for the sake of his best friend’s wedding.

But instead he was still so… Matthew Murdock . Had he really not grown since college? Matured into an actual adult? Why the hell was he like this? Because you’d only ever seen him treat you this way, and it was infuriating. 

“Alright ladies and gentleman,” the wedding coordinator announced.

Stopping just a few feet before you and Matt, she clapped her hands together to quiet the group. A smile spread across her mouth when the chatter came to a stop and you placed all of your focus on her and not Matt, though you could see that smug smile on his lips out of the corner of your eye.

“You’ll be starting the processional inside, just past those doors behind you, for the actual ceremony tomorrow,” she continued, gesturing to the French doors you’d all come out of a few minutes ago before lining up. “But for the sake of time we’ll start out here. You’ll be paired up with whomever you’re walking down the aisle with, moving one at a time down the aisle that’ll be here tomorrow when the chairs are set up. Then the pair of you part before the stone steps for the ceremony just there,” she said, turning at the waist and pointing to where Foggy was already standing and looking nervous. “Once the couple before you parts, the next one proceeds down the aisle. So let’s practice that for now, shall we?”

The woman had turned, making to get out of the way of the line for the processional, but then her eyes caught you and Matt standing beside each other. Her brows creased as she abruptly came to a stop, turning back around and pointing a finger between the pair of you.

“You two–Best Man and Maid of Honor–you need to link arms while you walk down the aisle,” she said. “Go on, just like the others behind you.”

At her comment, Matt’s arm rose up beside you, brushing against your own arm as he offered it out to you. You looked over at it, your lip pulling back in slight distaste. You did not want to have him escort you down the aisle now or tomorrow. And that sentiment was made all the more true when your gaze slid up, noticing Matt was smiling down at you in sheer amusement. He was clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Matt urged. “Let me escort you.”

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you slipped your arm through his before grabbing onto his bicep. But as soon as your fingers lightly curled around his suit coat, you could feel the thick muscle of his arm beneath your hand. Swallowing hard, you pushed that observation as far from your mind as you could. It wasn’t a fact you needed to remember about him.

But as the pair of you began to make your way towards the stone steps where the ceremony would take place tomorrow, Matt’s cane lightly tapping along the stone as you led him there, you couldn’t help but notice his head had turned a bit towards you. And unless your eyes were deceiving you, it looked like he was focused on you behind his red lenses.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

[zeroeightzeroone]

can't love you anymore - lee minho

genre: angst

pairings: non-idol!lee minho x gender neutral reader

warnings: one mention of alcohol

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~1.2k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

minho: hey, i'm gonna be there later than we planned the senior coworkers invited me out for drinks, you know i can't risk saying no to them sorry baby

the messages left you feeling indifferent.

in all honesty, you didn't really care that he would be coming later than planned; considering that this wouldn't be the first time pre-organized plans needed to be postponed or cancelled. by either of you.

of course, the disappointment had set in the first couple of times but eventually, it happened so often that it was to be expected. whether it be on the day of or a couple of hours before, a text or call would be incoming to the other's phone: both methods contained an explanation followed by a short apology. a brief "that's okay" or something similar in response.

you: it's fine get here safely later

minho: thank you baby, i'll see you later

it's become glaringly obvious that both of you were increasingly growing tired of the half-hearted apologies and the effortless responses that followed.

minho: i love you

you: i love you too

sometimes you found yourself wondering when your relationship started to feel like a chore.

when did exchanging words of affection become a part of the routine?

the words "i'm sorry" and "i love you" felt like more of a formality, the appropriate and go-to response between you two. the significance the words once held only faded into obscurity. the hints of remorse and urge to reconcile were gone, the words of affection and dedication now devoid of any meaning, falling flat when uttered. 

as usual, you choose to disregard those fleeting thoughts, using the hours before minho arrives to straighten out and clean up your apartment: throwing clothes into the washer and dryer, changing the sheets and cleaning whatever you saw fit.

at the same time you were trekking around through the unit looking for things to occupy yourself, minho found himself sitting in a grilled meat restaurant. the man seated surrounded by senior coworkers from different departments, the table full of a variety of meat cuts, side dishes and alcohol.

once all your household tasks are completed, you make your way into the living room and switch on the lights to illuminate the apartment unit. you settle down onto the couch, positioned next to the large windows, resting your cheek against your palm as you take in the view of the city.

the sky is slowly beginning to darken as the sun sets behind the skyline, your pointer finger tracing the droplets of rain trickling down the opposite side of the glass pane. the gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops and the pleasant aroma permeating through the crack of the opened window create a soothing environment within your apartment.

a series of soft vibrations captures your attention, drawing your gaze from the window to your phone. you pick it up from the couch armrest as the screen illuminates:

incoming call: minho

accepting the call, you bring the phone up to your ear.

"hello?" you speak into the microphone, "where are you?"

minho slips into the car and you hear the sound of rain-soaked cars and city chatter through his microphone. you catch a bit of his conversation with the cab driver before the door slams.

"i'm in a cab," he finally replies, another set of murmurs directed to the driver before his attention is back on you, "where are you?"

"i'm at home."

"okay, good. i told the driver to go there," minho's voice is dull, laced with exhaustion as he stares out the foggy windows of the taxi.

"are you sure?" you remove the phone from your ear, glancing at the time, "it's almost… 11pm, and it's raining like crazy outside."

"i'll be fine," minho brushes you off, "i'm already on the way."

suddenly you hear the man gasp.

"what? what's going on?"

minho's phone had dropped from his hold, landing next to him.

the impact had travelled through the microphone resulting in a thud on your end, followed by the sound of frantic movement. on the other end of the line, minho is patting down his coat, and his pants; focusing on the pocketed areas, before hurriedly flipping through his bag.

"shit," minho curses, "sir-"

"what's going on, minho?" you ask, even though he can't hear you.

the device is still resting next to him on the seat. your nosiness gets the best of you as you press the phone closer, as if that would help you hear any better.

"i'm so sorry but…" the rest of minho's sentence is inaudible, rendering you unable to decipher the conversation he's having with the driver.

you hear the car screech right before minho picks the phone up again, holding it up to his ear.

"what happened?" you wonder, brows knit together in confusion.

"i left my wallet at the bar," minho grumbles, "didn't realize 'till we drove away so we gotta go back.… hopefully it's still there." 

minho whispers the last part to himself, running a frantic hand through his hair.

"anyway, i'll be there soon," he clears his throat.

an audible sigh leaves your lips and travels down the line, prompting minho to say:

"i'm sorry."

"hmm…?" you hum, "for what?"

"just–" he pauses, thinking for a moment before continuing, "everything..."

you're wracking your brain to think of what to respond to minho, the apology catching you off guard.

it felt different.

the way he apologized was different from before.

this time it had meaning and intention behind it. you understood what he meant by "everything" without the need of any further explanation.

"just… go home minho," you breath out, "get your wallet and go home."

you don't have to say anything else.

there's no need to stand firm on your word as minho doesn't ask if you're sure, he doesn't insist on coming over.

instead, the line falls quiet. neither of you utter a word or make a move to break the connection.

you both just sit on the line silently.

the air between you and minho is uncomfortable and suffocating. leading minho to think the cab driver's picked up on the tense atmosphere as he clears his throat, fingers tapping on the wheel.

what a perfect time to be caught in traffic.

much like your plans, the end had been postponed and cancelled countless times.

you hoped to salvage what once was but every kiss, hug, and touch became meaningless.

"oh, hey–" your voices are low, barely even whispers as you and minho choose to break the silence at the same time.

your faces burning up as you both stammer, pushing the other to speak first.

"sorry…you first," you whisper.

"no, no. you."

you're sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest. in the cab, minho sits with his legs spread, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his thigh. his eyes blink slowly in anticipation.

"i– uh… never mind."

"no, what is it?"

"i don't think we're in love anymore."

there it is.

that one sentence changes everything, saying everything you both needed to, no further explanation is needed.

you both sit on the line as the silence makes an appearance in the atmosphere once again, only this time it's different; it's still, comforting, void of the suffocating weight it once had a few moments ago.

meanwhile, the storm outside progressively gets worse as the minutes pass. inevitably, the rain picks up, leaving you both with those last moments of silence in each other's presence before the signal cuts off.

the connection was lost.

main masterlist

#stray kids one shots #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz imagine #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz lee know angst #skz lee know imagine #skz lee know oneshot #stray kids lee know angst #stray kids lee know imagine #stray kids lee know one shot #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids lee know oneshots #lee know angst #lee know imagine #lee know oneshot #Spotify

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (2)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!

Notes and TW: Part 2 focuses on a bit of context. I’m sorry that not much romance is happening, it’ll exist later I promise. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Eventually, you grow bored of watching the three of them interact. It all goes exactly as the story says, anyway, down to the dialogue. Instead, you step soundlessly into the hallway and up the stairs to the attic.

You like the attic of this house. Warm sunlight spills in during the afternoons, and when it gets too hot in the summer, opening the window lets in the sea breeze. Not claustrophobic, but cozy. Your feet bring you to your usual spot, the narrow window seat. You have always preferred small spaces. Floyd once laughed and compared you to fish that hide in coral reefs.

Your fingers dig under the cushioned seat and lift it to find a compartment. Nestled inside is what seems to be a regular notebook. You place your hand on the cover and let your magic roll over it like heavy fog. Its plain, blank pages fade into the appearance of a manuscript—no, a stack of printer paper stapled together that contains the information that completely changed your understanding of this world. This humble manuscript tells the “original story.”

You found it while cleaning the attic. Neither Jade or Floyd could confirm its origins or its author. The cover page is blank, save for the title: (Y/N)’s Story. At first, you thought it was a prank that the two were playing on you, so you read through the entire thing. The writing is immature, rampant with purple prose, and the grammar has more than room for improvement. Neither twin writes this way. Floyd lacks the patience to write past a page and Jade is too much of a perfectionist. They could have hired someone, but there are too many personal details in there for your comfort. You decided to put it down and mull it over.

The very next day, Jade ate an unknown mushroom and proceeded to find out that his body strongly disagreed with it. For three nights, he laid in bed with a fever. At first, you thought nothing of it, but the description of the mushroom he ate was uncomfortably familiar. The manuscript mentions this event as a quirky flashback meant to create insight to Jade’s character. Of course, it brushes off the absolutely miserable state he was in for the comedic factor. This alone was not enough. You needed more proof.

The next one was Floyd. He took a broom twenty meters off the ground before his mood suddenly flipped and he could no longer come back down. The story mentions this in another flashback, but does not mention your involvement in flying up there and helping him down. Only the information relevant to the main characters is important enough to mention. Again, it could easily be brushed off as a normal Floyd antic if it weren’t for the detail that he rode and nearly broke his mother’s broom. It was the first and only time any of you had seen it. Their mother, like most merfolk, is not fond of flying.

Once is a coincidence. Twice is suspicious. You confided in the twins. They, understandably, said you were being paranoid. Weeks passed until the next major event, and this time, you could no longer ignore it. This time, the event nearly uprooted the entire Leech Mafia.

You did not watch it happen. You received a text from Jade that asked you to come to a private hospital with an uncharacteristic urgency, so you tipped the taxi driver handsomely to push the speed limit and skirt around traffic laws. When you arrived, you found Mr. and Mrs. Leech lying in pristine white hospital beds with ashy faces. Someone cursed their dinner. You had to physically grab on to both twins—Floyd so that he wouldn’t start breaking things, and Jade so that he wouldn’t immediately leave and track down the assassin himself. You understood those sentiments, but at the moment, both of them needed to be there.

No matter how many specialists they hired and bribed, nobody could figure out how to undo the curse. Luckily, or perhaps not, their parents fell into comas. Their life was still intact, but to what extent? For how long? And most importantly in a logistical sense, who would run the Leech Mafia?

Jade was the one who decided he would take up the mantle while pretending to be his parents. Too many beings, human and merfolk alike, would eagerly sink their teeth into their organization if word got out that the bosses of the largest syndicate of the Coral Sea were comatose. The idea was to stop all in person events and have him run the operations behind the scenes. Floyd would help, of course, but his fickle personality made him unsuitable to run such a large and complex network. Not that he wanted to. He hated all that responsibility.

When things settled down, you brought their attention back to the book. Rereading it with the recent developments regarding the twins’ parents made the cheesy, ridiculously over-exaggerated story seem like a threat. Did someone write it with clairvoyance? Did the assassin write it before committing the crime? Or, in the most unlikely scenario, is the story written by someone from the future? Regardless, after much discussion, one thing was clear: if real life progresses the way the story is written, then not only will the Leech Mafia prosper, the most important people to the twins will be cured with relative ease.

The solution is simple, given the rules which the story operates under. (Y/N) attracts the love and attention of anyone rich, famous, beautiful, talented, or otherwise an eligible bachelor. Thus, through heavy-handed author intervention, she becomes friends with a certain Vil Schoenheit. It so happens that he can brew potions and cast curses with his eyes closed, and anyone who can make such things is always careful to keep in mind how to unmake them as well. Vil, with all his natural talent and hard work, is nothing short of a genius when it comes to such unsavoury usages of magic. Such a complex curse takes him months in the story to dispel, but the most important thing is that he does manage it at the teary request of the story’s favourite protagonist.

The twins and Vil graduated from the same high school. Although acquainted, they are far from on good terms. With his connections in the entertainment industry, it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together and realize the two eel merfolk with the surname Leech are related in some way to the infamous Leech Mafia run by merfolk. Vil, despite his villainous air and name, is at heart a terribly good person. As soon as he realized the twins were involved in organized crime, he cut off contact completely.

But of course, the lovable (Y/N)’s doe eyes and fluttering lashes make him cave in. She can be quite useful in her own right.

You make yourself at home on the window seat, rereading the next chapter of the story. It is a nervous habit rather than out of necessity. By now, you can probably recite the story word for word by heart. The misspellings, the unpolished grammar, every bit of what seems to be a novice writer’s fantasy of an idealized romance. The mystery of the author’s identity constantly nags at you. What are their motives? How did they manage such a thing? The more you think about it, the more questions arise.

Sunlight makes its slow journey across the attic floor. When Floyd’s head pops up through the trapdoor, the patch of light on the wall glows a saturated orange.

“They left,” he announces, boredom seeping into his tone. Never one to be idle. “Whatcha doin’? Reading it again? It’s not gonna change, y’know.”

“I know.” If only it would. You bookmark the manuscript exactly where the story is currently at and slip it back under the window seat. Without your magic to feed the concealment spell, it returns to the appearance of a regular, blank notebook. It’s a precaution you took in case it goes missing. “Do you want to go on a short trip with me?”

His eyes light up and catch the fiery remnants of the setting sun. The yellow one seems to glow, while the olive one displays more gold flecks than green. Sometimes, it can be easy to forget that he isn’t a hyperactive, harmless puppy, that a single swipe of his claws can tear out a windpipe.

Danger presents itself in various ways with him. Everytime you get into his car, you regret it. In fact, you regret the day you didn’t stop him from getting his driver’s license. How he got the license is a mystery in and of itself. The way he drives is most certainly illegal, and the scenery flashing past the windows could very well be your life flashing past your eyes. When the expensive sports car finally screeches to a halt, you slump back in your seat and take several deep, shaky breaths.

“Remind me why we couldn’t get your private chauffeur to bring us here?”

Floyd’s grating laugh scratches its way into your ears. “Because it’s way less fun!”

You would beg to disagree, but a conversation like that goes nowhere with him, so you relent. You get out of the car, Floyd laughing at your unsteady legs, and ring the doorbell of yet another ridiculously large mansion.

Azul personally opens the door. Normally, his housekeeper answers the door and shows you to his office. He must be feeling somewhat worried in his own way. He leads you to the basement, his hands fidgeting with a small device.

“I don’t get it,” Floyd whines, draping an arm around Azul’s shoulder. “Can’t we just use Jade’s Signature Spell?”

Azul brushes him off and adjusts his shirt, the slight tick in his eyebrow giving away his annoyance. “We will have to wait until he gets here. You know Jade is . . . occupied at the moment.”

With bringing the lovely (Y/N) home and fussing over her humble lifestyle, no doubt. Since he must be the perfect love interest, he must cater to her every need even as she refuses his help, so he is likely making her dinner at the moment. He’ll surprise her with his knowledge of recipes to use with foraged mountainous plants and fungi, even though he comes from a family where money is not an issue. Rich, but not a spoiled brat. Mature enough to take care of her. Playful and unconventional to endear him to her.

“Knock knock, Handfish. You there?” Floyd raps his knuckles against your temple. Instinctively, you step away from him. He isn’t known for holding back his strength.

“Yeah.” You collect yourself and focus on the task at hand. No use wondering what Jade is doing right now. You have the story memorized—you know what he’s doing.

You enter a dim room. It is such a cliché. Surely, Azul should be more tasteful, but he’s always had a love for theatrics.

A man sits tied to a chair in the center of the room, his face flushed and angry. A handsaw tattoo stands out on his neck. This is Thug Number One, the extra who pulled you and (Y/N) into the alley earlier today. Recognition flickers on his face when they land on you.

“You’re that bitch who ran away! You—”

“What did you just call her?” Floyd’s teeth flash dangerously as his pupils shrink to pinpoints. One hand comes up to roll a shoulder back, popping his joints like he’s getting ready to throw a punch. Some habits never change. There hasn’t been any reason for him to get physical lately. He must be itching for a fight. “You wanna say that again? Come on. I dare you.”

Thug Number One shuts his mouth and looks to the side. No sane person would respond when the slightest nudge might set him off. Ever the crafty one, Azul orders Floyd to stand down. He’s playing the good cop for now.

“Now, now, Floyd. I understand that you want to protect the honour of our good friend, but let’s calm down and talk this out rationally.” What a load of lies. You know Floyd too well to assume that he’ll get angry on your behalf for something like this. He just wants to expend energy. “Yes, let us have a civil conversation—”

“Like hell! You tied me up and left me in this chair for hours—”

“And it would have been longer if we did not decide to visit you on a whim.” You stand in front of him, scrutinizing his face. No particularly outstanding features. He is, after all, just a nameless extra to the story.

Of course, he does have a name. Barry Moore, male, thirty-four years old. A low-level soldier of the Carpenter Mafia who joined two years ago. No family, no friends except his drinking buddies, no real connections. You texted Azul with a request to dig up this information about him while holed up in the attic. He mentioned that he’d expect payment, but you are not too concerned. You are not stupid enough to hand him a blank cheque.

“Barry Moore. I suggest you cooperate.” You pull a chair over and sit in front of him. “It is not my hobby to get violent.”

“You totally should, though.” The dim lighting casts unsettling shadows over Floyd’s face. “You’ll look just like a red handfish. It’s the look that suits you the best, y’know?”

He would think it’s entertaining. A memory of when you first met flashes through your mind. Silvery puffs of breaths in early spring air. Bright splashes of red on sand. Nails dripping blood. Red Handfish.

“I don’t need to right now.”

He huffs and kicks Barry Moore’s chair, making the poor thug flinch. “Booooring.”

“Cry about it.” You turn your attention away from his pout and study your captive. Information on his background is too limited. There is little you can exploit from his personal connections. Nothing tangible or emotional to threaten him with that you are aware of. So you either bribe him with something he wants, or . . . “Instead of me, maybe you should have some fun, Floyd.”

A sharp leer cuts across his face, his razor-like teeth glinting in the harsh light. Slow, lumbering steps bring him closer until he towers over Barry’s hunched body.

“You’re such a hypocrite, Handfish.” His cackles bounce off the bare walls. Madness shines in his golden eye. “Why didn’t ya say so earlier? I’ll make sure to take reeaaaal good care of him.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst x reader #twst fanfic #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #mafia au #never let Floyd drive a car #i firmly believe this

[rinbowaman]

ↀOUBLE IIROUBLE - CHAPTER ONE

Series Masterlist

Okay so i decided to just complete the teaser since it pretty much incorporated all of chapter 1. These chapters will be incorporated with some SMAU images, so be prepared to watch as tension grows. ;)

Pairings: Twin step brothers (Heejeong and Heeseung) and Reader.

Warnings: not so much in this one.....just covering down the formalities. Just some minor skin to skin contact is all. NOT PROOFREAD, i tried since it's a new series but with the constant interruptions, i just couldnt....so bear with me on this.

It had started to rain the moment your taxi-cab pulled up front at the main entrance of the restaurant.

“Here you are sir.”

“Thank you.”

Paying the driver, you step out of the car and quickly ran inside; entering the small foyer, you try to brush yourself dry as the damp pieces of hair remains glued to your skin. Walking up to the hostess bar, you issued a small smile and proceed to greet the young girl before you.

“Hi, I’m here to meet with my mother, her name is (enter your mother’s name here).”

“Oh yes, right this way please.”

Trailing behind, you spot your mother already seated at the table. Upon making eye contact, she stands and greets you with open arms.

“Hi mommy. I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No more than usual, y/n.” Chuckling at her comment, the both of you hug it out and sit across from each other.

“So, how do you like your new job at the museum? Do you like being a curator?”

“ I love it. The people I work with are also amazing and very helpful.”

“Mmm..that’s good. Did you get settled into your new place, with Wendy?”

“Yeah, actually I’m still unpacking but Wendy has been super helpful.”

“That’s good.”

You always were fond of talking with your mother. She was, in large part, your biggest supporter and had always shared a bond with you that was similar to that of an elder sister, not so much a mother. Yet when the time called for such, her maternal instincts would kick in, and she’d succeeded in aiding you through every obstacle as the best mother anyone could ever ask for.

College had been a bit rough for you. It was dreadful and while you remained entirely focused on your studies, others such as your college roommate, Wendy, who you became fast friends with, had been focused on boys. You loved and respected your friend of four years, yet she had a terrible habit of picking out the worst out of the male population. Nevertheless, she was someone you could always count on, even if she was moving her new boyfriend, Jeff, into the apartment, after you had agreed to move in and split all the living expenses.

“Do you like the apartment?” your mother inquires as she takes in a bite of her meal.

“It’s a bit small, but it’s do-able. Actually…” chewing on your food, you take a sip out of your drink before proceeding to inform your mother of the unexpected third roommate…

“Wendy just moved in her boyfriend, which I guess works out better because it means that our rent will be cheaper.”

“Her boyfriend? Didn’t you say you disliked him because he was always hitting on you?”

“Yeah…I mean I got that vibe but I could be overthinking it. Plus I have my own room, it makes it easy to limit the interactions. I think all in all it will be fine.”

“Do you want to move back in with me?” both you and your mother chuckle at her response.

“Maybe….we’ll see.” You smirk as you flew a wink in her direction.

Peering down at her drink, she places a hand around the glass, but does not proceed to drink out of it, instead, she taps the rim with her finger.

“Actually, I’m thinking about moving as well.”

Pausing your motions, you look up slightly wide eyed. With a confused smile, you inquired for closure as you manufactured her words.

“But…you love your apartment.”

“Yeah I do, but….its just so crowded.” She continues as she gazes out the window. “I’ll still be here, locally, but I’m thinking of moving into a house.”

“A house?”

“Yeah.”

Your look of confusion was enhanced by a slight roll in your eye as you try to configure the vague telling of your mother’s plans in relocating. Puzzled, you became a bit more forceful, though not aggressive, in trying to fish out the meaning behind her decision. Before you could speak, however, she had beaten you to the punch.

“Remember that guy I told you about? That I met three months ago?”

“You mean the one you met at the mayor’s inauguration ceremony?”

“Yeah.”

You shifted your gaze around, recalling the events of when your mother told you of a gentleman that she had met, when she, her sister, and your cousins had attended a lively event that was graced by the presence of some known and important figures known throughout the city. CEO’s, executives, politicians, and even members of foreign royal households had attended.

“Mmm..yeah….okay I remember. You’re moving in with him?”

Sipping from her glass, she sets her drink down and while maintaining strict eye contact at the condensation dripping down from the cup, she tells you…

“We’re getting married. In three weeks.”

As the valet service opens the door to your cab, you quickly paid the driver and ran inside the lavish hotel.

‘Lets see….she said the restaurant was on the top floor…..sooo…..elevators, elevators, elevators. Where are the-oh! Found you!’

Pressing the button, you shifted nervously as you felt your mother’s disappointment through the text.

‘When we have dinner with them, don’t be late. Its your first time meeting with family, or soon to be family, so we need to show good manners.’

You promised your mother you would get out of work early to make it in time for the dinner. However, with  multiple staff members calling in sick, there was no way that your boss could afford to let you off early. You hoped your mother would understand, yet, you couldn’t blame her if she didn’t, considering this was the first time you were meeting her fiancé, Daehyun, or Danny as he would often be called, and his two sons. It’s natural she wanted to make a good impression on them, you were just so sorry that you had to let her down tonight.

‘God I hope she’s not mad….’

……………

Meanwhile upstairs, located on the fiftieth floor, was the platinum, exclusive, member-only featured restaurant that normally esteemed guests at the hotel would have the right to make reservations, yet Danny, being the CEO and founder of Lotte Mart, the renowned conglomerate franchise that had been around since the mid-nineties, had access to just about any private facility. Him….and his two sons, Heeseung and Heejeong.

Sitting across their father and his fiancé, the two boys sat next to each other. Heejeong, being the elder of the pair, had brought his girlfriend along, Yeon-jin. Despite the level of politeness, the two brothers displayed towards your mother, they weren’t terribly close with their father, and it showed.

Their attitude towards the rather sudden engagement wasn’t up to par either, though they made it clear that they had nothing against your mother, quite frankly, it was their father that they had the issue with…as displayed from the previous conversation they had with him, the day he broke the news of his upcoming nuptials.

‘Don’t you think you’re rushing this a bit? Is she even comfortable in getting married so soon? Or was this all your idea?

‘You dated your other girlfriends for years and never married them. Yet you meet a woman at an event three months ago and already plan to get married? What? Does she also come from a well-to-do family?'

Seeing your mother for the second time since their father began courting her, they both greeted her with a warm and devilishly handsome smiles as they displayed a dashing appearance of black suit and tie.

"M/N, how have you been?" Heeseung greets as Heejeong pulls a chair back for his girlfriend, whom he had brought along, Yeon-jin.

"I'm good, Heeseung. You look so handsome, you too Heejeong."

"Ah thank you. We try, you know?" Heejeong jests as he flashes a wink while he and Heeseung both take their seats across the table. Sitting next to Heeseung, was his girlfriend, who was also Yeon-jin's best friend, Sa-ra.

They were both good boys, with impressive athletic skills and academic features. They had graduated from respectable universities and excelled in every subject, all the while maintaining striking leadership authority as team captains.

Heejeong was a talented basketball player, and had even been offered scholarships through his school, yet turned them all down so he could remain close to home with his brother.

Heeseung was the school's infamous rugby player, and the young man made a name for himself for the amount of vigor he displayed as he played each season.

They were remarkable boys, and both very attractive.

Learning the family business, both boys were taking over the world as they began inheriting their father's corporation, in which they didn't mind since they had a career path where they could remain close and work alongside one another. It always surprised your mother just how close they were, she never knew the reason behind it, but always assumed that it was due to Danny's personality and fatherly devotion to his boys. Yet....it was strange.

After meeting the boys a month prior to the dinner, it kept puzzling her on how the two men could be so distasteful towards their father, who had shown countless times that he is willing to give them the world.

Danny was kind, and very nurturing. He not only strived to give the boys anything he could think of, but he also expressed his support when it came to their personal romances, not at all expressing his distaste for whatever girl they decided to date or forcing them to render the insufferable acts of arranged marriages, which happened to be quite common amongst the upper class.

Danny made it a point, to show that he was a diamond in the rough when it came to that topic, expressing and even strongly suggesting that Heejeong, or Joey, as he would sometimes be called by english speakers, to take Yeon-jin and marry her.

Despite dating the girl and seemingly having a serious relationship, Heejeong had refrained from the topic of marriage and never pursued it, with Yeon-jin or any other woman. Heeseung displayed the same attitude towards Sa-ra.

Yeon-jin and Sa-ra both excessively mingled back and forth between Danny, his two sons, and your mother. They acted friendly, yet your mother couldn’t help but notice that both, Heeseung and Heejeong, seemed as if they were merely tolerating the girls as they lavished themselves a plethora amount of jewelry and accessories.

Heejeong had an arm swooped over Yeon-jin's shoulder, his fingertips rubbed her skin from time to time, but his level of affection was very minor and his facial expressions didn’t expel a sense of love and satisfaction. The same for Heeseung. He merely sat relaxed in his chair, with his arm over Sa-ra's shoulder, but rarely glanced over her way. It was unusual for your mother to see, considering Danny informed her that the pairs had been dating for a while.

Of course, your mother was no fool, she could tell by the way both girls had acted, despite maintaining polite manners, they were both far from the persona's they both displayed themselves as throughout the night. Your mother couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something grossly odd about the two women, which made her question why such nice boys would even care to continue dating the two.

With flashy dresses, appearing more suitable for a night at the club than at a formal dinner, the girls attempted to show off a modest, and shy behavior, yet the constant stroking of Heejeong's thigh, or the obvious suggestive facial expressions Sa-ra featured whenever she stared at the man next to her, showed that their personality features at the table, was all just an act. More than likely all to impress the boy's father, which he seemed to be very fond of the two young girls and approved greatly of them dating his son's. Your mother had wondered if both of their girls moral value's were truly genuine, or if they were merely dating the brotherly pair out of the aspects that they were good looking, and excessively wealthy.

Everyone had went ahead and ordered their drinks, your mother, knowing what you may have wanted, went ahead and ordered a drink for you upon your arrival.

The boys mainly interacted with your mother, always being warmly receptive towards her, yet glaringly dreadful towards their father. Your mother couldn't understand the reason behind their hostile attitude towards their father, even when she had first met them they were genuinely kind to her, yet remained obviously disdained towards Danny.

"So I heard you both just bought a house? Is it nice?" your mother inquired.

"Yeah, it's large and has lots of space. We just moved in last week." Heeseung states as he eyes his glass, taking regular sips with his elbow propped on the table. Heejeong nods at Heeseung's words as he sips from his own drink.

"That's good. Its nice to see you both are so close and willing to live with eachother." your mother smiles as she admires both boys, who took a second to look at each other before nodding and setting their gazes at the table.

'We're all that we have...just each other....right after our mom had....'

"Oh. My daughter should be here soon. I'm so sorry that she's running late, her job sometimes becomes demanding."

The mental thought process of both, Heejeong and Heeseung was gently cut off as your mother read your text, stating you had just got into the elevator.

The boys merely looked at one another, before setting their gaze over towards your mother and Danny.

"It's alright M/N, it's understandable. Your daughter must work very hard at her job. She just started at the National Museum, correct? How impressive." Danny issued as he takes your mother's hand in his own.

Both boys glared a roll in their eyes as they shifted their gaze over to one another.

"So your daughter, y/n? Dad told us she also just graduated college?" Heejeong inquires.

"Yes. She just started working at the national museum, she loves art and historical pieces." your mother chuckles.

Heejeong and Heeseung merely chuckled back.

"Oh, here she is!" your mother claims out as she spots you from the side view of her vision. "Y/n! Over here." she gently ushers out from afar as you were escorted by the hostess.

Everyone's faces shift over towards you, and it made you more than nervous. You felt as if the blood in your body had all been drained out of you the moment you saw five other expressions looking your way.

The seating was located in a grand-ball themed room. It as massive, and adorned with tall windows along the walls that featured a breathtaking sight of the entire city. At Danny's request, the entire restaurant closed down for the night, only permitting the private access of you, your mother, her fiance, and his two sons.

Walking behind the male hostess, you walk over to your mother's side where she received you with open arms and a kiss on the cheek.

"Here, give your coat to the hostess." she ushers as she helps tak your lengthy, fashionable raincoat off.

Since your job called for it, it was fortunate that you didn't have to make a stop at the apartment to change. Your mother holds your hand and takes a step back as she guides you to stand next to her, presenting you to Danny, and the two boys across the table, along with their girlfriends.

"Everyone, this is my daughter, Y/N."

You stood there, somewhat nervous and shy though you did your best to not let it show too much. You issued a slight, sweet smile to everyone and gently greeted them with a soft tone in your voice.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you all."

Seeing how everyone stared at you made you wondered, if they were admiring you, or if they were mad that you arrived late.

It could have been the black, spaghetti strapped halter, midi dress you had on; how it displayed the fine lining of your curves while hugging onto your body tightly, and was delicately exposing skin, but not too lasciviously as the one's Yeon-jin and Sa-ra had on.

Or it could have been the subtle, yet smoldering smokey eye shadow you had applied to your eyes, enhancing the shape and color to perfection.

Maybe it was the dark rosy-pink lip stain you had on, that made them look more than just kissable.

Perhaps it was all of the above....and much more.

"M/N, what a very pretty girl. Y/N right? Its nice to finally meet you, your mother has told me so much about you, she loves you so much. I'm so excited that we get to meet." Danny issues as he comes to greet you with a warm hug.

To your mother's surprise, the boys didn't roll their eyes at their father's issued words. It was the first of the night.

Quite frankly, the two young men didn't even process their father's sentence..because they didn't even hear him.

They remained staring, with puzzled brows and slightly parted lips as they began leaning their faces in as if they were in disbelief at what they were seeing before them.

Heejeong was the first to return the greeting upon receiving the slight tug on his arm as his somewhat irked girlfriend took notice of his admiring countenance. To which he rolled his eyes at quickly before going right back into looking at you.

"Y/N was it?" Heejoeng started with. Upon seeing you slightly nod, and displaying that soft and sweet smile once more, his heartbeat slightly escalates as he smirks a half smile and licks his lips, almost as if he got rather excited for a split second. "Nice to meet you, I'm Heejeong, or Joey, whichever you prefer."

Tilting his head slightly back, he smirks as his eyes widened the longer he kept admiring you.

He nearly ended the greet right there, yet Yeon-jIn issued another tug on his arm. Heejeong, or Joey, didn't respond in her favor as he merely hissed while sharply snapping his face towards the side, and glares at her.

"Stop."

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" she whispers out to him.

"Not if you're going to act this way." he whispered back.

Watching his girlfriend huff as she glares down to the floor. Heejeong, faces back towards you and gives off a subtle smirk.

"This is Yeon-jin." He softly issues out as he returns his gaze over to you, his eyes immediately softening up as he takes in your view deeply.

"Nice to meet you." you admitted a soft smile as you directed your words towards the girl. She smiles back as she issues her greeting, all the while tightly plastering herself on Heejeong's arm.

Heeseung never took his eyes off you, much less Heejeong, aside from the moment he harshly yet inconspicuously placed the girl next to him back in her place for acting so brazenly.

Taking the opportunity to greet you himself as Heejeong finishes his introduction, Heeseung tilts his head slightly off to the side as he issues his greeting.

"I'm Heeseung. You can also call me Ethan, it's...nice to meet you." just like his brother, his voice was calm and low.

"This is Sa-ra." He issues calmly, yet remained crossed arm as he continued to gaze over your direction, not even looking over at the girl to his side.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm so sorry I am late." you responded back, issuing a smile that was still sweet, yet inaverdantly alluring as you narrowed your eyes slightly and displayed an alluring look to your eyes.

Biting his lip as his head remained at a tilt, his arms still crossed, Heeseung slowly released the bit of flesh from his toothy grip as his his bottom lip slowly rolls out from the small bite he issued. He took a moment to softly smile back at you, all the while eyeing your face.

Heejeong displayed the same expression, as he remained standing with his hands tucked in his pockets. Raising a single brow, just for a moment, his expression was highly suggestive, yet you didn't catch it as you shyly looked over to your mother as the male pair continued to view you as if you were a work of art.

It was interesting to see the twin boys, how they looked remarkably similar with their matching features, yet Heejeong's silver ash hair color and Heeseung's jet black strands were enough to set the boys apart.

Sitting back down, you remained next to your mother and held her hand as it rested on your lap. She could tell you were a bit nervous and embarrassed for running late.

"M/N, your daughter is much more beautiful than the pictures you showed me. She is gorgeous, and so very polite, you did a good job with her upbringing." Danny strokes out as he leans in to place a peck on your mother's forehead.

"Thank you. I love her very much." Your mother responds back.

Nodding slightly to Danny's compliment while issuing a soft "Thank you" at your mother's urging, you tried your best to remain composed as your leg was bouncing under the table. Fortunately, it was silent, yet you wish you could stop since you started to become self conscious of the movement reflecting in your upper body as the shakiness increased beyond your control.

Your mother was enveloped in a whispered conversation as she leaned in to her side and communicated with Danny, ear to ear, more than likely expressing their excitement and love to one another.

Setting your gaze on the table, you felt a bit isolated as you sat with everyone else having their dates next to one another. It only caused your leg to further escalate the shaking motions.

Suddenly you felt a hand placed atop your knee, right at the end of your thigh, which ultimately ceased the movement of your leg.

The midi dress you had on had originally rested nearly three inches above your kneecaps, yet when sitting, it rose further up, leaving your skin exposed under the table.

The hand was semi rough. You could make out the callouses of the palm as it slightly rides up an extra inch or two; your eyes widened and a small gasp escapes your lips when you looked down and saw the hand. Looking across, you watched as Heeseung, who was seated directly across from you, was leaning into the table, where his chest nearly rested along the edge of it.

Looking intently into your eyes, he gave a reassuring smile as he softly tunes out a near whisper, "Don't be nervous...shhhh." His voice was soft and light, you noted it, despite the circular motions he added to his touch which was somewhat distracting yet....your leg was no longer bouncing up and down.

You stared for a second with your mouth parted open and displayed a surprised look before you recollected yourself upon seeing his comforting expression. Returning a shy and nervous smile back, you gave a slight nod as a thankful gesture.

"Good girl...." he whispered, before he dragged his fingertips off your leg, but not without admitting gentle taps with his fingertips. Had you not been so nervous, you would have caught on his words.

....But you didn't.

Knowing that you missed it, Heeseung merely smiles as he taps his index on his lips, smirking devilishly as he retains his admiring view on you.

Feeling appreciative and rather comforted by the young man's displayed familiarity with you, you thought it kind of him to treat you just as any brother would have towards their sister. Being that you were younger by a year, you figured the boys had already developed a protective and nurturing nature towards you as you were going to officially be family in a matter of days.

Sa-ra didn't notice the comforting display as she was turned to face the opposite side of Heeseung, tapping some powder on her nose as she held the makeup compact in her hand. When finished, she situated herself to sit back facing front, issuing a smile as he swung his arm over her shoulder, yet his gaze remained on you as he tilted his head slightly back and bit his lip.....again. You would have noticed his mannerisms, yet you were leaning your ear in and focusing on processing your mother's whispered words as she expressed how proud she was of you, for graduating and beginning your career path in the National Museum.

..............If only you had looked up for a moment and caught the boy's eye ravishing your face and body as he raised a brow in peaked interest.

What you did catch, however, whenever you were paying attention towards your new brothers, were the soft and gentle gazes they admitted as they spoke, laughed, the intense eye contact, and smiles as they spoke…..

Directly towards......you.....

CHAPTER 2

Authors Note: gah! I hate that you can only upload one video per post! I had the perfect silver haired video of Heejeong but I’ll save it for another chapter. I plan to release chapters on a weekly basis until SE7EN is complete. I dont know how many parts AFTERMATH will be split into just yet, but theres still quite a bit to it ;)

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry@honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07@raishaii@yangjungwon33 @lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @browsehnnie @prettykia @lprww @they2luv1naia @ellixqz@mimimovv @stvrryhee @moonmoongi  @seungjiseyo @browsehnnie , @heeanaree

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #enhypen yandere #male yandere #yandere heeseung #yandere enhypen #heeseung yandere #heeseung imagines #heeseung au #enhypen heeseung smut #yandere fiction #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere x reader #yandere smut #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic

[lucywrites02]

The game of cat and spider chapter 2: Nice running into you!

Main Masterlist | The game of cat and spider Masterlist | Miguel O'hara Masterlist | AO3

Miguel O'hara x black cat! Reader (gender neutral)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

A/N: Here we are with another chapter! This bad boy *slaps the fic* can fit more than 3k words in it. This chapter is about them meeting as normal people UWU. It includes: Miguel in a compression shirt, a cat who terrorises your apartment and coffee. <3. *swings a pocket watch right in front of your eyes* "If you see any grammar mistakes... no you didn't xoxo

Have fun and let me know how you liked it!

If you want to be added to the tag list, just send me an ask :)

Series Summary: You are a criminal and he's a hero. You don't know each other's names, never seen the person behind the mask. You aren't enemies- you are supposed to be but that didn't work out quite well. You liked each other a bit too much, but your relationship was strictly…. Professional? What happens if you meet as normal people, with no masks and responsibilities in your way? What did the universe plan for you? And most importantly…. Will it last?

Miguel woke up to the silence of his apartment. The very first sun rays of that day shone through the curtains the man forgot to close last night. The golden hues embraced his tired face, making the man squeeze his eyes and groan.

The rest of his room was engulfed in darkness, just like Miguel liked it. The walls were painted the same shade of blue one could see in the clouds right before it started raining. He didn't have many things in his bedroom- just a queen sized bed covered with black satin sheets and a small nightstand table with an electric clock on it. Not even a lamp. O'hara only used this room for sleeping so he didn't have many things in there. He would only sleep in his own bed if he didn't fall asleep in his lab. Or collapsed on the couch after a long day. Some nights he didn't sleep at all. That's why he didn't see a point in decorating the place.

Miguel sat up, placing his feet on the cold wooden floor. The numbers on the clock read 6:30 AM and the man knew he wouldn't get any more sleep. He stood up, adjusting his white sleeping shirt and slowly walked to the opened window that he also forgot to close last night.

Thankfully no one would even think of breaking into his apartment since it's located on the 10th floor. He pushed the heavy grey curtains away, letting more light inside and just stood there for a while, looking at the city below him. Even though it was early in the morning he could see the crowds of people on the streets. He could hear the sound of cars speeding down the highway. Sometimes Miguel liked to make up stories about those people and their lives. Maybe the couple eating breakfast outside that little bakery just got married and decided to spend their honeymoon in Nueva York. What if that taxi driver that almost didn't stop at the red light is secretly a famous poetry writer?

Miguel knew those stories were stupid and didn't make any sense whatsoever, but it was the only thing to get his mind off of his… loneliness. It never worked because watching people living their lives and being happy only made him feel even more alone.

He ran his hands through his messy brown hair and decided that he needed a better distraction. A good jog could probably make things better. There was a park 20 minutes away from his home that he liked to visit- a secluded area on the west side right by the river. It was one of his favourite spots in this neighbourhood. Miguel didn't even bother to eat breakfast or make coffee- he just took a quick shower, put on his dark red sweatpants, black compression shirt and a hoodie that matched his pants. Ever since he became the spider-man he invested in some good noise cancelling headphones because his heightened senses couldn't handle the constant stimulation that the outside world provided. He took them with him every time he left home- as a civilian, not a hero. Miguel wasn't in the mood for music so the only thing playing through the headphones in his ears was some white noise.

He shrugged and decided that it was good enough for now. The last thing he needed were his sunglasses- he would surely get a migraine if he got out in this sun with no protection against the light. He had a favourite pair that he took everywhere with him- ordinary wayfarers with tinted glass. They looked exactly like his regular reading glasses and Miguel loved them. The man sighed heavily when he couldn't find them and put on his black baseball cap instead. He has to start putting his things in places he can find them again, but that seemed like a problem for later.

"LYLA, I'm going out. Turn on the security."

The man called, not bothering to hear the robotic response of his digital assistant and closed the door behind him. He waited for the silent 'click' to make sure LYLA did what he asked. The artificial intelligence he created was in the testing phase and he still had to supervise it. It was a simple AI- Miguel gave it his vocal command and it did the job. So far the system has been running great, but there was still something missing, Miguel just couldn't figure out what. The AI was supposed to be his assistant, but Miguel felt weird when he talked to it and expected to have an actual conversation only to be met with silence. His social skills weren't the best and he knew it was stupid to even think that way, but he really wanted this AI- his creation- to be human enough to speak with him like a normal person. He wasn't sure how he could accomplish it. Maybe he would get some good ideas after his little workout. Now that he thought of it he cringed, knowing he was so desperate for social interactions he made an AI he could talk to. Even though the system wasn't that well developed yet.

He jogged at a slower pace down the road leading to the main area of the park. The mornings were getting more chilly as the seasons were changing. The trees were still green- it would take a few more weeks for them to adapt to different weather and turn different colours- and it actually made Miguel smile a bit. He wasn't a fan of fall. It was rainy and depressing. And he knew that winter came after fall which meant spending another holiday alone. Which caused more depression, of course. But now wasn't the time to think about the future.

Miguel jogged to the secluded area of the park and started running faster. It was almost a sprint as if the velocity of his steps could make the thoughts in his head disappear. It didn't.

What did make his thoughts stop racing however, was someone's body colliding with his broad frame.

Your day couldn't have started better. That statement was purely sarcastic of course because you woke up to the sound of a ceramic pot crushing into the tiled floor of your kitchen. You immediately jumped out of your bed, forgetting about the ache in your thigh and headed to the source of all that noise. The pieces of soil and terracotta were scattered across the room and you wanted to just lay down in all that dirt and cry. Your cat however was sitting down on the highest shelf in your kitchen - meant only for your poison ivies -looking pretty pleased with herself.

"I hope it was worth it because you just lost your snack privileges." You scolded your furry companion as you cleaned the floor. You took one of the biggest mugs you had and put the remaining of your plant in it. "She won't hurt you again, I promise." You spoke to the plant and gently caressed the leaves. The mug would have to suffice until you get a new pot. After throwing out all of that dirt to the trash and mopping the floor you finally took a glance at the clock hanging on your wall and groaned. It was barely 6 AM and you were already on your feet.

Well, you couldn't go back to sleep now. You weren't tired anymore. It would help if you had something to make you busy, but there was literally nothing to do. Your dishes were washed and your laundry folded. The cat has been fed and her litter box cleaned. You always did those chores at night so that your morning would be more enjoyable. But now you were yearning for some tasks.

You pushed the white curtains in your kitchen to the side, letting the morning sun into your apartment. The sticker you put on your window created beautiful rainbow areolas on the sage green tiles on your wall. You loved mornings like this even if they started on a more chaotic note. You went through your routine like always- it was your day off so you settled on more comfortable clothes. Sweatpants and hoodie was the best combination for a lazy day. Your wound didn't hurt as much as it did last night and it made moving around easier than you thought.

You spent months making your apartment feel like home and it really did feel like it. But in moments like this- sitting on the balcony all alone and looking at the people on the streets with a deep longing for some sort of connection- you felt lonely. You had Migsy who was more than happy to keep you company, but he wasn't a human being who could give you a hug after a long day at work or kiss you goodnight. You were desperate for a genuine and meaningful human connection.

People you called friends were actually just your co-workers or people you regularly interact with at the grocery store- people who had their own family and real friends to come back to after a long day at work. You gave up on dating a long time ago and the only person who made your heart skip a beat was a guy in a red-blue latex suit whose job was to send your ass to jail. It was fun to flirt with him- especially ever since he actually started to flirt back- but you knew it wasn't…. Real. It wasn't someone who would want a relationship with you. How would that even work? You always felt more confident behind your mask. But the person you were while wearing your costume wasn't really you. It was a character you created to make your life easier and if someone liked the black cat they would be so disappointed when they realise who has been hiding behind that mask. So if the spider-man harboured any sort of affection for the black cat, he wouldn't have the same feeling for the real you. That's why you would never take this 'relationship' seriously. You liked the flirting, but that was it. Because he wouldn't…

Your thoughts were entertaining a dangerous territory and you had to find a good distraction. You couldn't stay at home- this apartment even though it was your little sanctuary, reminded you of how alone you actually were.

Hmm, since your thigh wasn't hurting too much, maybe you could go on a quick walk to your favourite bakery in the park nearby. You could get breakfast there and maybe buy some flowers for yourself on your way back. Yeah…that sounded like a plan.

You made sure to pack some things into your little backpack before you went out- just the essentials like your wallet, the keys to your apartment and a sketchbook you always took with you. You styled your hair a bit before you left to look less messy and smiled when you were satisfied with the outcome.

"I'm going out, Migsy." You gave your cat a little kiss on the forehead before you put on your headphones. "Please don't terrorise any more plants while I'm gone" Your little angel meowed at you in response which made you giggle.

You left your apartment complex and chose a fitting playlist. You picked up your pace to match the beat of the song and headed to the park. There was a path along the river on the west side that was perfect for morning walks. There was a small coffee shop around the corner that you had to stop by before you could continue your little journey. You could smell the freshly brewed beverages from a mile and you knew your day would be bad if you didn't stop by to get a drink. Coffee was like a nectar for your soul and you couldn't deprive yourself of this small happiness.

The baristas behind the counter knew you and your order very well since you were one of the regulars so they started preparing your favourite drink the moment you stepped inside. They didn't try to start a conversation with you and it only evoked a deeper feeling of loneliness. Even though you interacted with those people plenty of times you still weren't worthy enough for them to even try and make some small talk. Maybe you were overthinking the interaction too much- they did smile at you when they saw you walk in and even waved at you. But you just couldn't help yourself and had to analyse every move of their muscles to make sure they didn't secretly hate you. You left the shop as soon as they handed you your order, trying to calm down. You hated when that happened- when the anxiety overwhelmed you so much you couldn't think properly.

You didn't even notice when you entered the main area of the park, too focused on your coffee and the music playing through your headphones. And you surely didn't notice a stranger running in your direction.

"I am so sorry!" Miguel quickly apologised, ripping his headphones off his ears. "Are you okay?" He looked down at the person sitting on the ground right before him. He felt so stupid for running into you and if you paid enough attention you could see how red his cheeks have turned.

You looked up at the stranger and groaned in pain. You were thankful that the coffee wasn't hot because you would have to add burns to the list of your injuries. The drink ended up all over your clothes and you had to try your hardest not to cry in front of a stranger this handsome. Wait-

"I should have paid more attention, I am really really sorry." The man kept apologising. Miguel's face was burning with embarrassment. He felt so bad for bumping into you and he knew it probably hurt a lot- colliding with all those muscles of his surely wasn't the best experience.

"I'm good." You smiled awkwardly, readjusting your wet hoodie that stuck to your skin. Miguel gave you his hand to help you up. "It's okay, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have been thinking about so many things at once..."

Miguel's brown eyes finally met your gaze and the man thought about something bizarre. Your face seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had the feeling he had met you before, but he wasn't sure, and it was driving him crazy. However, he shook his head and pushed the thought aside. Millions of people lived in the city and it was actually very possible that he had seen you before and simply forgot about it. But if that was the case why did he feel like there was something more to you than meets the eye?

"Are you okay though?" You asked, looking down at the coffee stains on your clothes. It will be a pain in the ass to clean later.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He gave you a small smile. "Are you sure you're okay? I kinda feel like you might have gotten hurt, it felt like a pretty harsh fall… and I'm sorry about the coffee, too…" He looked concerned as he looked at your face for a second, before looking elsewhere- anywhere but your eyes- as he scratched his neck.

Miguel could have sworn he has seen you before. Or maybe he didn't. But if you truly were a stranger how could he explain that weird feeling deep inside him. Or maybe you were just so pretty his brain had to somehow rationalise this foreign attraction towards you. Aaagh, he should stop making a fool of himself and stop overthinking this interaction!

"It hurts a bit, but I will be fine." You replied. The man standing before you was much taller and - you hated yourself for thinking about the person you just met that way- very very handsome. Which only made you even more embarrassed once you realise how you must have looked. "I can always get another coffee later so don't worry about that."

"I…i-i w-" The stranger stuttered, fiddling with his fingers as he spoke. He took a deep breath before he continued. "I feel bad for bumping into you. Could I maybe… make it up to you somehow?" Miguel's heart was beating against his chest like a hammer as he was stumbling on his own words. "I could buy you another coffee." He proposed and cringed, thinking he sounded desperate. "If that's fine with you, of course…."

He wasn't sure what took over him because he knew he wouldn't ever do something like that for any other person. He would probably just apologise again and run in the other direction, hoping he will never have to see that person ever again.

"I don't think I want another coffee right now" You giggled in response. "But thank you for the proposal, Mr…"

"Oh, it's Miguel." The man mumbled, giving you his hand to shake.

You introduced yourself as well and chuckled. "It was nice running into you." You joked and cringed internally. But the stranger- Miguel- actually laughed. Not giggled, laughed.

He let go of your hand to cover his mouth and cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile.

"So, you were going for a morning jog, too huh? Where were you heading, if you don't mind me asking?" The man spoke. He really wanted this little interaction to last longer.

"Yeah, I wanted to relax a bit and decided to take a walk. I was heading to the bakery down the street" You explained. "I didn't expect to be swept off my feet like that though." You felt comfortable talking with Miguel. It's as if the two of you knew each other already.

"I am really sorry about that." Miguel repeated. "If there's anything I can do to make it up to you…"

"You could give me your number" You suggested and mentally slapped yourself. You had no idea where this confidence came from and you started to get nervous. "So that you can take me ou- BUY me another coffee." You continued your mumbling and chucking awkwardly. "Because you spilled mine." Definitely not because you wanted to see him again.

Miguel smirked down at you and took out his phone. He didn't want to admit it, but he was as excited as he was nervous. The one time he decided to go out he bumped into some stranger, making them fall down, spilled that person's coffee all over them and then somehow managed to get their number? Migiel wasn't sure what he did to be this lucky, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

He handed you his phone with his number on the screen, so that you could type it into your own. You saved his contact as 'the guy who owes me a coffee'. Miguel saw that and chuckled again.

"I sent you a text so that you can have my number as well." You cleared your throat and inhaled deeply when you noticed how close the two of you were standing. "I guess I will see you around, Miguel."

"I guess you will." He saved your number in his contacts before he showed his phone into the pocket of his pants. "It was nice bumping into you. And I hope the other people will pay more attention to the road than I did." He scratched his neck and took a step back to create more space between you. "Wouldn't want you to spend any more time falling down." Miguel winked at you and slowly jogged away, not waiting for your response.

He made sure that he was out of your view before he stopped to slap his forehead. He still felt bad for running into you, but thankfully, he didn't feel any awkwardness like he did in the beginning. But for the love of God, why did he have to wink at you?

Tag list: @serpentstarr @bucketluvr @nxrdamp @strangeobsessed @atlaincorrect @rorel1a @saturnknows @onfuis @spicysleepysloth @levisbebe @ok-boke @keepitreal001

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara #black cat reader #miguel x reader #enemies to friends to lovers #meet cute

[raygirlramblings]

What do you think about the Captain Laserhawk series? If you watched it yet, at least.

’If I watched it’ XD

Oh rest assured I watched it. ❤️

Overall I really liked it. The animation was SWEET HONEY GOODNESS. Bobbypills pulled out the stops and it SHOWED. I loved all the style changes, I love the pixel art, I even enjoyed the VR stuff because it was unique and weird.

The voice acting was also TRES BON. Special round of applause for Rayman’s English VA because by god he had a job and a half and he NAILED IT. Also loved Marcus’s voice, and Bullfrog of course 💚 just a lot of very high quality work went into this and the voice acting was pretty much spot on from the first episode.

I will say the series felt rushed. I know it’s only 6 episodes but with the time they had there could have been some edits and cuts to keep things snappy while also freeing up time to spend with the main 4 (and the Warden) to cement their relationship.

Believe me I was happy to see so much Rayman but his story wasn’t the main focus and should never have been. We needed more time with Jade and Pey’j. If the Warden has this deep emotional story behind her that we’re supposed to buy into we need more time with her. Sarah and Dolph having a backstory chat in VR was too little too late.

But I will forgive a lot for some stuff they did so right:

Alex is such a dick and he was so much fun to watch. His and Dolph’s relationship was fascinating, and it was so cute watching them in the first episode being a couple and it felt so NATURAL.

RED IS A MASSIVE DOUCHE FUCK HIM XD But god was it fun to have such an open bigot be an antagonist.

All the weird propaganda Eden was using Rayman for. The Rayman Kids stuff was especially grim. I want a ‘I’m a Rayman Kid’ badge SO BAD YOU GUYS.

Bullfrog was such a charming boy. I loved every moment he was on screen. It clear he was the fave character of the team. I loved his relationship with Pey’j, and I hope (if s2 is a thing) that he gets to partner up with Rayman because THAT WOULD BE GLORIOUS

RAYMAN USES HIS LIMBLESSNESS AS A TACTIC. I lost my marbles when he raises his hands and one of them is missing. YES. BOBBYPILLS NAILED IT.

All the little pixel animations were just so joyous and delightful. Perfect.

All the alternative styles for the cut-aways. For the Rayman TV spots, and the VR episode looking like a Phantasmagoria let’s play, the crazy taxi/Driver mini game, just so well observed and suitable for the time. A++++

So yeah, I give the show my thumbs up. It’s obviously not for everyone and it is QUITE THE INTENSE RIDE AND NOT APPROPRIATE FOR KIDS, but I would recommend it as a quality animated work. I hope the people sharing that handful of weird Rayman screenshots on Twitter and going ‘WTF?!?!’ Actually give the series a chance.

Obviously I can discuss every tiny detail from every episode but that would take waaaaaay too long 😩. But thank you so much for asking!

#captain laserhawk #Raygirl’s ramblings #long post #Captain Laserhawk spoilers

[ben-talks-art]

Trapped and Dreaming Freedom

So I've been reading these two webtoons lately about female leads stuck in very toxic and unhealthy relationships (while being aware of it), and I'm loving every second of it!

If you know me, you know I just love a badass cool female lead and I also love seeing characters stuck in very difficult situations and watching how they use their brains and/or skills to get out of it, and both comics excel at these aspects!

First series is "Trapped", a comic about this taxi driver who got tangled by accident with a vampire who develops an obsession with both her and her blood after she manages to outsmart him a couple of times, something that hasn't happened to him in years.

It feels very "Tom and Jerry" with both characters trying to get the upper hand on their relationship, and you would think it would be super one-sided but vampires actually have quite a bit of annoying rules on how they work that severely limit their freedom and our female lead exploits as many of them as she can to make him eat sh*t! It's just glorious!

"Dreaming Freedom" is... somehow less dark, and at the same time way darker of a series.

It's not as violent or gory but it deals with more realistic problems that hit closer to home for some like school bullying, abandonment, harassment, family abuse, and so on.

The premise is that our female lead teams up with a guy that has the power to use dreams to affect people in the real world, and they use this ability to get revenge on all the girl's classmates that harassed her, but the more our female lead does that, more the male lead gets obsessed with her and we later find out that he has some serious anger issues making him extremely dangerous.

Our lead basically goes from "I can use him to get payback!" to "Oh my God, I'm the only thing that's keeping this dude under control and away from people!"

It feels like you're being handed a living knife that you just pray won't run out of control or turn itself against you. It's so uncomfortable but at the same time so thrilling!

While I really don't like when unhealthy relationships are glamorized and used to send some kind of "Oh, he's kinda dangerous... But at least he loves you, so it's okay, right?" message, I do like it when the unhealthiness of the relationship is the focus AND is painted as a problem that needs to be fixed.

I like how both female leads always call the male leads on their bs and keep them in check whenever they start going too far, and it's fun to see how they use them whenever they're backed into a corner by the antagonists of the stories.

Also like the themes these series explore, about how when you keep dealing with people that act like monsters you see yourself slowly turning into a monster yourself and start to attract other monsters as well, eventually making you question how far can you go? How far should you go? Can you get back from it? And so on.

But most of all, I like that both series make sure to show that these "bad boys" were their last freaking options. Not the first, not the second, but the very bottom of the barrel. They went to them only after they felt they had no other choices and were sure that nobody else would take their side.

This isn't just "Oh, I went to him because he's a hot bad boy", this is "The world turned its back on me so I'm gonna use the only cards that I have left."

They basically made a deal with their devils and now the fun is watching to see how/if they're gonna get out of it.

This is how I like to see problematic relationships. You don't paint them as something normal or something good, you paint them as a hardship that needs to be dealt with and use it to do clever commentary on the worst aspects of humanity so we can learn how to be better and as a source for good and intense drama to make us worried for the main characters and invested in seeing them get out okay.

#dreaming freedom #free in dreams #trapped #olgami #webtoon #Kkum-eseo Jayu-ro

[deansapplepie]

Inherited | Chapter 2

Summary: Everything is set, Daryl and Y/N are now officially the inheritors of Mr. Y/L/N’s farm and his other belongings. A new visitor arrives and past is everywhere.

Warnings: Daryl curse like 2 times, very brief mentions of sex, death, grieving, not much happen really.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Word count: 1,873

A/N: English isn’t my first language so it can have mistakes. This is a short chapter, not much happen, but we have a flashback and some infos about their past.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 2:

Spaghetti and Bracelets

All of you nodded your heads and waved goodbye to Yumiko. You had signed already all the papers and she was going to make them official. She entered in her car and you all waited till she was far on the road to say anything.

“FUCK!” Daryl rampaged and kicked one of the plant pots near the stairs.

“Do you think I’m happy?” You bursted out. “That’s it, or I call her back and we give everything to Negan. What do you think about it?”

“Ya know this is the only reason I agreed to this shit!”

“Hey, you two. It’s not the time to fight.” Aaron who was just watching decided to intervene.

“Nobody asked yer opinion fancy-pants. Just because ya’re fucking, it doesn’t mean ya have a saying in our business.” Daryl spit the words without thinking about it, you laughed.

He looked at you, angry, what was so funny? You laughed more, you had a laughing fit and you couldn’t just stop. Aaron was holding his laugh, he was afraid the man would kill him if he started laughing too. Now Daryl looked at you questioning your sanity. “What’s so funny?”

“Seriously?” You managed to say between laughing. “You can’t be serious…” you had tears in your eyes from your laughing fit. You had no idea you’d be able to laugh so hard during this terrible day and you also didn’t imagine Daryl would be the reason of that.

He was silent, angry. He was part of a joke and he couldn’t understand what was it. “Are you dumb? Or are you just playing?” You asked tilting your head to the side, truly, you wanted to know. His beautiful blue eyes were stormy with anger, but the fault was on him, he was truly looking for it.

You listened to a motor roar coming from the road and smiled. “If you’re not playing, you’ll just see how dumb you are in some minutes.”

“Don’t need to, ya already made it clear many years ago.” He couldn’t hold it, you calling him dumb? All again? Now that he was stuck with you in this house? Well, at least he was expecting you to go back to the big city soon, and then maybe you could just talk to each other professionally.

He had to make that remark about what you said when you were young and stupid, but it wasn’t even half of it, and he himself had said hurtful words too. The car on the road was getting closer and closer, and you had a growing smirk on your face. When it passed the gate you looked back at him. “If I were you, I’d sit to watch the plot twist of the story you made up inside that head of yours.” You sat on one of the rocking chairs and relaxed your body, just waiting for the car to park in front of the house. It was a taxi cab, and the passenger was a young cute blond man.

When he got outside the cab, he grabbed his luggage and said his goodbyes for the driver, that at this moment was already his friend. Aaron went down the stairs quickly and happy, and embraced the man giving him a sweet peck on his lips, and holding his baggage to take inside.

“Oh…” you heard Daryl say. ‘He’s gay’, he thought. It didn’t even crossed his mind that maybe he was bisexual and you were a third wheel in their relationship, because he knew you could be many things, hot headed, stubborn, annoying, and many other adjectives that he could use to describe you, but one thing he knew, you were not a whore.

“Eric, it’s so good to see you!” You got up of the chair and hugged him as soon as he stepped on the porch.

“Honey, I’m so sorry for your loss.” He caressed your back and you felt at ease.

“Thank you, I’m so glad I have both of you.”

You guided him inside the house and ignored Daryl, but Eric couldn’t ignore, he was too polite for it. “You didn’t introduced your friend.” He made you stop right at the door.

“Sorry, I was so excited to see you that I forgot.” You faked innocence. “Eric this is Daryl, Daryl this Eric, Aaron’s husband.”

They greeted each other and then you went inside with Eric. It was a little past lunchtime, but you imagined he was hungry so you heated something for him. Soon Aaron joined you, after storing Eric’s belongings in the guest room. You looked through the window and you saw Daryl passing, probably going to the stables, it was in that direction.

“Y/N, I dun want’ya to go.” 9 year-old Daryl said, both of you sitting on the fence observing the horses that were being trained.

“I dun wanna go, but momma say we need to.” 8 year-old you were so upset, you couldn’t understand why you had to go and leave your dad, your home, your friends and your horse, Stormy, that your daddy had gave you the year before.

“Yer birthday is coming, we were gonna ride horses and play on the lake.” That was your plan, Maggie’s, his and yours, the adults didn’t even knew about it, but you were sure the three of you would make it happen.

“I know…” You had nothing to say, it was out of your control. “I have somethin’ for ya.” You said.

“Wha’?” He asked curiously, you extended your little hand to him holding a blue tangled bracelet that you had made. “I can’t use this, bracelets are for girls!”

“It’s blue. Duh! boys can use too.” You innocently said at this time people didn’t have the idea that colors didn’t have gender. “Now, gimme yer arm.”

He gave you his arm a little bit against his will, but if you cried because he didn’t, he’d feel bad. So he extended his arm and let you put it around his wrist.

“See here.” You pointed at a knot that had two cords inside. “Ya can use to open it more or close it. It ain’t for ya to take it off, it’s for ya to make it larger as ya grow.”

“Ya want me to wear it forever?” He asked incredulous, forever was a long time to have a girly accessory on him, you nodded.

“If ya take it off, I’ll know. Mags gonna tell me.” You had given one her too, hers was yellow, because you thought she was like a ray of sunshine and had the prettiest smile, and Daryl’s were blue because well… his eyes were blue and the most beautiful thing you had looked at. You took another one from your pocket and handed it to him. “Now ya put this one for me.”

“D’ya have one two?” He said taking the purple bracelet from your hand.

“Of course, we’re best friends so I also need one.” You shaked your arm in front of his face, indicating he should put the bracelet. He took your hand and put it on your wrist, when he finished he hold your hand. “Now, we’re always gonna be together, no matter where we are.”

“Y/N!” You jumped startled by Aaron’s voice.

“Yeah! Sorry.” You answered.

“Where were you?” He asked curiously.

“Just remembering old things from the farm.” You answered, your attention back to your friends.

“So…” Eric started, and you knew where it was going. “Is that the Daryl? ‘The Daryl Dixon best sex of my life’?”

God… you so hated yourself right now for having told them all about Daryl, but you had no one after everything happened and you and Aaron became besties really quick as you also became Eric’s once they started dating.

“Yes, but remember, he’s also ‘Daryl made me feel like shit and broke my heart, and I can’t just go back home because he’s everywhere‘.” You remembered him. Yes, he was your best sex, but it wasn’t your fault no one after it could compare to him.

“He thought Y/N and I were a couple.” Aaron said and this time he couldn’t hold his laugh. “You arrived just at the right time.”

“Which means he was jealous…” Eric pointed, “he still likes you.”

“Impossible. He already made clear he hates me.” You said, and you wanted to say you hated him too, but you didn’t. He annoyed you, infuriated and made you incredibly upset, but you would never be able to hate him. “My dad… the little shit… is it a sin if I cuss my dad? He did it on purpose”

“I was going to say it. This arrangement of both of you inheriting everything and if you didn’t want to share giving it to another person? That was totally your father wanting both of you to solve whatever was unsolved between both of you.” Aaron observed, and yes, you thought exactly what he said.

“Your daddy was a good matchmaker.” Eric commented drinking some of his cold tea.

“ ‘cause he didn’t know all that happened. He just knew we had some problems…” you’d never dare telling everything to your dad. He loved Daryl and you were afraid what would have happened to him if your dad knew.

After, you went to your old bedroom that still looked a lot like teenage you, your dad could have let it exactly the same as when you left with your mom, but he changed it through the years to accompany your taste as you grew. You didn’t had the time to take a good look at it since you arrived, your time there had been limited. It didn’t match you now, but it was still comforting. You change your funeral clothes and put some more comfortable, you found a flannel from your closet that still fit you, a tank top and some pants. You changed and laid on your bed to try having some rest.

When you woke up, it was dark and someone knocked on your door. “Come in”, you said sleepy voice. The door cracked open and the light of the corridor entered the room, and there he was, Daryl Dixon, standing at your door. How long have it been since last time you saw him there?

“Eric made spaghetti, he asked me to call ya.” Once he said it, he left and while you listened his steps in the corridor you went to the bathroom to wash your face before you went downstairs.

You entered the dining room and they were just waiting for you to eat. “Sorry, I slept too much.” You sat by Daryl’s side, unfortunately it would be strange if you didn’t, even with your friends knowing everything.

“Darling, you had all right to sleep, you’ve been through a lot.” Eric said, he took a plate and served you. “You guys can serve yourselves, the special treatment goes only for Y/N.”

“Thanks, you’re the best. Your spaghetti was everything I needed today.” You said, taking a mouthful with your fork while the others served.

“Daryl, what do you do here at the farm?” Eric tried to do some small talk with the man.

Daryl had his mouth full of spaghetti and started talking while still finishing to swallow with. “Pretty much everythin’, I take care of the animals, supervise the crop… think I just dun train the horses.” Because that was what your Dad did, he loved training the horses and domesticating them… he was good with them. The atmosphere became heavy, Daryl also remembered him, you knew it. He went back to his plate and continued to eat.

“That was my dad’s job… and administration” you said, you could almost forget your pain, you could almost ignore it and pretend this was just a nice day with your friends, but it wasn’t. You were home, without your dad and there’s no changing, no going back in time. Nothing.

“Oh my, I’m sorry.” Eric said, now a little guilty for having brought the topic, but it wasn’t really his fault.

“It’s ok. You just wanted to know Daryl better, there’s no way you could know it was going to make we remember him.” And it was true Eric had no way of knowing it.

After dinner Eric, Aaron and you talked a little more. Aaron told you that Daryl apologized to him and you thought it was nice from him, since he was so stubborn and always thought he was right. You went to your bedroom and sat by the window, you put the lights off… it would not be the same thing as before, but you’d try to observe the sky and the stars, just like you did when you were younger, at NY there was no way of doing such. You looked outside of your window and you could see a shadow near the fence, and if you weren’t wrong, it was Daryl… the dark figure kinda looked like him. Did he still do that? Didn’t he stopped after you left? Both of you, used to sit at night on the fence to observe the stars and talk. He used to say he was there just because of you, so you thought he didn’t like the stars… maybe Merle or his dad had told him that man didn’t admire the sky or any misogynistic shit that they’d normally say. But you guess, it wasn’t it. So he still liked observing them.

Down on the fields of the farm, leaning on the fence, a cigarette lighted in his hand, Daryl looked at the sky, he hadn’t lost the habit, he tried. When it came to this time of the day, he couldn’t feel at ease if he didn’t went outside and looked at the ‘goddamn’ sky. Taking a glance in the direction of the house, his eyes automatically stopped at your window, You didn’t know he was looking, but even in the dark he could see you there partially illuminated by the moonlight. He wondered if it was just a coincidence or if you still enjoyed admiring the sky, just like the naïve girl you were used to like.

Wanna be add to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #inherited twd au #deansapplepie

[peemanne]

rgg game osts ranked Yeah.................

LONG ASS POST AHEAD!!!!!! BAH!!!!!!!!!!!

for context awhile back a yakuza discord server i'm in had a music discussion thread open up and we were invited to make simple little tier lists for the game osts to start it off. it was supposed to be just the tier list but i eventually spiraled into a whole ramble. whoops. so i might as well just paste it here with a few additions so the rest of you can see it yippee!!!!!!!!!!!!

will be providing my reasonings and then my highlight tracks. i'm gonna provide convenient youtube links to all the songs mentioned so if you wanna check one of them out feel free to just click the hyperlink

and yes this is ordered in tiers. the personal highlights aren't though

>Yakuza 5 is my personal top 1 OST overall, but it's seriously close. I can't tell you enough how much of a nut I am for this series and its music. Yakuza 5's ost is, in my eyes, the most consistently hard-hitting amongst all of RGG's catalogue. The street fight themes are all amazing, the boss fight themes hit hard and pump you the hell up, and this also has the one of the best B-sides out of all of them, with stuff like Baka Mitai (fun fact, Saejima's is actually considered the original version, Kiryu's "Taxi Driver Edition" actually uses a different key to fit Kuroda's voice), the songs from Haruka's section, and even the jazzy bar themes. 5 hits that perfect balance of quantity and quality, and also happens to fill like half of my workout playlist.

Personal Highlights:

The place where I used to be

Daigo's western theme

Victory Road

and of course The Battle for the Dream

>I am such a sucker for Yakuza 4's music direction. As Tehsnakerer said in his Yakuza 4 video, this is the first truly GREAT soundtrack, and I'd have to agree. The jazzier style of music on showcase here fits this series- and this entry ESPECIALLY- like a glove. This is such a quality collection of sounds. Featuring the best panic themes, the best chase themes, and some iconic street battle themes. 4's direction makes it stand out even more amongst RGG's catalogue, and I couldn't be happier about it. Also, this game gave us Machine Gun Kiss and Pure Love in Kamurocho, which are two of my favorite karaoke tracks in the whole series.

Please bring back Pure Love in Kamurocho for a modern title, RGG. I'm begging you.

Personal Highlights:

Solitude

Receive and Bite You

Infinite Handcuffs

yeah yeah fine For Faith

Why couldn't they use this for the actual cover instead of the weird one we have now like come on this looks so much better

>Is anyone gonna disagree with me when I say Lost Judgment is easily the best out of the more techno-focused soundtracks? They handle it perfectly here, with tracks that grab you by the throat like K.O.G. and Dig In Your Heels, utilizing the electric sound with effortless grace, while still having enough variety throughout to keep it from getting stale. I also found the B-sides here surprisingly strong alongside the main game, with the school stories giving us a nice variety of music to work with. The boxing ones and Toward To The Skyline are what I'd highlight in that selection.

Personal Highlights:

In the Groove

Unwavering Belief / Dig in Your Heels

Final Destination

1811

>Gaiden oh my gah......... Despite the shorter game, I seriously dig the tracks on display here. It's so consistently amazing, and does a great job of servicing both the legacy of Kiryu, and giving us some Good Shit™️ for the newer faces. This is also when I really came to appreciate the cutscene tracks: Wounded Beast is such a kickass track that you'd be forgiven for thinking it plays in an actual fight, and Psycho's Prelude is an amazing hype-up track for an even more amazing boss theme. Also worth mentioning there's like a gajillion coliseum tracks in this one. Have no idea why but y'know I appreciate it. It's cool.

Personal Highlights:

Psycho's Anthem

Deadly Struggle / Fleeting Dream (HAKANAKI YUME)

Bring It On (best street fight track to date i'm not taking notes at this time)

Un altro appassionato

>0 has One-Eyed Assassin so it automatically goes here. The rest of the tracks are decent too ig 🙄 There are a few sort of those "eh whatever cool skip it" tracks in here which hold it back a teeny bit in my eyes, but this is still a really solid collection overall, and also gets props for being Kiwami's soundtrack if it was good. I'm kidding of course but 0 handles it pretty well for the most part. I find 0 is at its best music-wise when they either go all-in with the techno, or shy away from it almost entirely.

Personal Highlights:

Make You Free

Both Receive You remixes (The Subtype and ~Tech Trance Arrange~)

Interplanetary Spark

Reign

>Yakuza 6 has Lots of Lights so it automati I think 6 does a really good job at telling a story through its music. You have tragedy being painted in Fist Law and DESTINY, you have sheer anger and brutality being portrayed in Body and Soul, and you can even find it in the street themes with the feeling of "I am completely done with all of this bullshit" in KAMURO again. I also wanna say this has some of ZENTA's best work, which I really really REALLY appreciate.

Personal Highlights:

Lots of Lights

DESTINY

Bloodstained Philosophy (coolest name for a track i can't lie)

Theory of Beauty

>Judgment immediately does a great job of differentiating itself from the Yakuzas, and it's apparent as soon as you get into the street fight tutorial. The OST does a great job of painting Yagami and the overall bleaker picture of the game. Where some battle themes in the main series feel like a victory lap, JE instead sometimes has you feel like you're on the backfoot. Lambda, Hyenas Wheezing, and Rake Your Inside are all tracks that make you feel like an underdog, and give you that strength to power through what seems like impossible odds. It also has Flower of Chivalry so it aut

Personal Highlights:

Encounter ~ Keihin Alliance

Hyena's Wheezing

Penumbra

Destination

>Like a Dragon (/7) is another heavily techno leaning OST. If you asked me about it a few months ago, I probably would have put this higher. But now with IW out, I've started to see more of 7's OST's flaws. There are few tracks that are either weirdly low-energy, or feel a little generic and mesh together with the rest of the soundtrack, or at worst, both. But 7 still has quite the number of solid tracks, and those that stand out REALLY stand out. Shoutout to one of the most unique long battle tracks in Enter the Tiger.

Personal Highlights:

Brutality

Receive You The Hyperactive

REIWA LABYRINTH

ism

>Yakuza 3 acts as a sort of bridge between the rough, almost grunge-like sound of the PS2 era and the cleaner compositions of later entries. And I think it does both of those styles pretty well! It also starts to experiment with electric sound a little more, while still keeping the heavy guitars 1+2 are known for. The best are obviously composed of the tracks that do both. They even keep the unintelligible English lyrics in some tracks, what's not to love?

Personal Highlights:

Lyricism Without Tears

Clay Doll On The Cradle

Fly

D2A BABY YEAH BEST THEME EVER MADE D2A D2A D2A D2A

(2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

>Atmosphere is a large part of the PS2 era of Yakuza games' identity, and the music is a pretty large part of that. Yakuza 2 has an aggressive, grungy sound that pairs perfectly with the brutality of the game. You'll find some of the most of the most rough sounding songs in RGG's catalogue in here, and it's just so good in a way that isn't really replicated in the more modern entries. Also one of the tracks (Block Head Boy) samples Wu-Tang for some reason and I find that very funny.

Personal Highlights:

Evil Itself

North Menace

Hit & Kill

Outlaw's Lullaby (I still think the Kiwami 2 remix is the better of the two but this one's still SO good please listen to it if you haven't already)

whatcho beautiful ass staring at kaito my king >Kaito Files has like 6 tracks. They're all pretty good tracks, but that's like 6 tracks. Come on. Anyways, it's basically just more LJ music, so uhhhh yeah peak

Personal Highlights (plural would be like all of them)

Blood-Drunk Master Theme

>Kiwami 2. Yeah this one falls into the same trap as 7 does, but with less of those "This is the greatest thing to grace my ears" tracks. It still has some of them, though. The best remixes here are the ones that touch up and make completely sure that what the original has is intact: Lullaby of Outlaws and A Scattered, Eternal Moment are both fantastic in that regard. This also has a decent chunk of completely new tracks, presumably because they couldn't get certain composers back. You have stuff like the amazing triple-part track that plays in the Kamurocho Hills segment, Rebellious Phase which is decent, and the randomly amazing Break Off. Still a crime Evil Itself was snubbed like that smh.

Personal Highlights:

Lullaby of Outlaws

A Scattered, Eternal Moment

Kamuro Hills

Update with Gunfire

(1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

>Unfortunately, like with most aspects, Yakuza 2 does everything the first game did better. Still though, some quality tracks here. Yakuza 1 doesn't have too much to work with, but it still does utilize its few track slots well. From long-standing iconic tracks like Receive You, to Funk Goes On, and even the off B-side tracks like Singin' Bass, there really isn't a miss in here, just moreso a lack of super standout tracks. There's still quite a few to love despite that, of course.

Personal Highlights

son of a gun

Turning Point

Receive You The Prototype

Funk Goes On

>kiwami 1 ost snorkkkkkk mimimimimimimim snorkkkkkk mimim Alright I'm exaggerating, but I still think it's pretty weak in comparison to the rest. There's a lot of tracks that just feel kinda butchered to me? And it's not like the new tracks are particularly standout or anything. The tracks that do work are genuinely really good: Ideal For Violence is uhhhh perfect, Get Over It is a really strong long battle theme, Pray Me ~Revive~ is on par, if not arguably better than the original, and For Whose Sake Kiwami matches the sorrow of the original pretty well. But then you have stuff like Funk Goes On 極 which feels weirdly weak, Receive You the madtype which feels sorely outclassed by like, every single other Majima Receive You, and what would be arguably the strongest track, Receive You Reborn, doesn't even show up outside of Japanese versions. Kiwami isn't all bad, hell, there are some really good standouts here, but it just can't really compare to the rest in my eyes.

Personal Highlights:

Ideal For Violence

Get Over It

Amusing Octagon

Everlasting Spirit

>Infinite Wealth sits in haven't listened enough of solely because I haven't finished the game and thus haven't touched any track past Kooky (UPDATE: now any track past Impregnable Triangle. I'm planning to do the finale by this weekend). By any other metric this would have shot UP. I ADORE this OST. The cutscene tracks, the generic battle themes, the boss themes, the B-sides, they're all so excellent. This inadvertently made 7's OST worse for me because of how much better it handles the techno.

Personal Highlights:

Brutality ~Rebuild~

Impregnable Triangle (Fun fact: this track uses the time signature of 3/4, which is a waltz. I'll let you fill in the blanks for what that means for the theming.)

Kooky

Slugfest (Yamaniacs stay winning what can i say)

ok so uhhh apparently i hit the character limit lmao. didn't even know this site had one. uhhhhhh will continute in a reblog it's just kurohyou and ishin anyways

#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #like a dragon #ramblings of the pee-man #video game osts......................

[stormyoceans]

Do you have any other wishes for GMMTV part 2 aside from the mandatory slow burn?

[TAKES OUT HER WISHLIST] ANON HOW MUCH TIME DO YOU HAVE

all jokes aside, i honestly do have way too many wishes when it comes to what i want to see from GMMTV and most of them are very hyperspecific, so instead of giving you just an endless list of whatever random ideas or pairings i’d like to get (which is maybe more appropriate for a bingo card or something like that), i kinda condensed it all into some more general categories (sort of. a couple fo these are still pretty specific ;;;;;;;;)

anyway, here we go!!!!

1. WOMEN. literally my top wish after anything jimmysea related is MORE. WOMEN. like srsly give me viewjune as the main pairing in a GL!!!!!!!! give me sizzy in any combination!!!!!!!! give me women centring shows where the women actually get treated as the main characters!!!!!!!! give me the GL version of series like only friends and we are where the women get to be silly and nasty!!!!!!!!! give me jamie kissing women as a treat to me specifically!!!!!!!!! GIVE. ME. WOMEN.

2. historical QL. after the success of i feel you linger in the air and with both idolfactory and domundi working on releasing historical QLs in the near future, i think it’s about time GMMTV also gives us a proper one. possibly with no time travel or reincarnation involved, for once

3. plot driven QL. this is kinda tied to my wish for an actual slow burn and partly to the following point as well, but i do desperately wish we could get a QL series where the romance is obviously still there, but it’s not the main focus of the show, or at least not the only one. something like manner of death or triage, where the romance just happens along the way as the story unfolds. i think the closest GMMTV got to it was with not me, but it would be nice to get more, even if i know this is not everyone’s cup of tea

4. some variety please for the love of god. look, i know we’re never gonna get rid of school settings and office romances, so it’s pointless to wish to have none of those, but i do desperately need a bit more diversity. of the fifteen series announced in part 1, seven of them are set in school. SEVEN. that’s basically half of the offer they’re giving. and okay, if we consider only the QL shows then the ratio is better (3 out of 9), but still. give me thriller shows, give me horror shows, give me fantasy shows, give me sci-fi shows, give me jobs that aren’t just office workers or chefs, give me mystery, give me crime, give me cashiers and doctors and detectives and firefighters and taxi drivers and teachers and librarians and waiters and bartenders and mechanics and lawyers and flight attendants and therapists and farmers and hairdressers and reporters, JUST!!!!!!!!! explore something new!!!!!!!! take some risks!!!!!!!! i know GMMTV as a company is not as big as we think it is and that it focuses on teens and new generation audiences, but i don’t think younger people want to see students and office workers exclusively……

5. QL exploring other sexualities and gender identities. just give me ace main characters, trans main characters, non-binary main characters, ALL THE DIFFERENT QUEER MAIN CHARACTERS!!!!!!!

6. pepper/papang/guy/podd in any combination as a main pairing in a QL. love and light to all the rookies but if GMMTV doesn’t give these men some main roles im gonna start committing grand scale larceny to cope

#i left out stuff like 'ALL THE JIMMYSEA SERIES' because you know #i'd say that's pretty obvious ;;;;;;; #but i can definitely be more specific if you want just let me know!!!! #in the mean time thank you for asking this anon!!!! hope you're having a wonderful day 💜 #gmmtv 2024 part 2 #wishlist #m: ask

[dynamite-derek]

Like a Dragon and how video games can tell stories in a different way than other visual mediums

NOTE: This is best read after playing Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name. I do not mark spoilers, so if you want to experience the end to the game yourself, I suggest you go play.

When you sit down with a television show or movie, you give a commitment of time to it. For a movie, let's say two-and-a-half hours. For a series of 10 movies, that's 25 hours of time. For a television show, this expands a fair deal. The running time for a drama that most of you reading knows about, Breaking Bad, clocks in at around 60 hours. For a series like the Simpsons, that has been going on for basically forever, that running time is 200 hours.

This is where video games set themselves apart. For a long time, I considered a 'long' playtime of a game to clock in at around 60 hours. I'm just talking about single player RPGs here, for an MMO this is basically baby stuff. In my playthrough of Persona 5 Royal, I think I spent around 100 hours with that cast of characters. 100 hours with Joker and Makoto, 60 hours with Walter White.

This time, think about a long running video game franchise. Earlier we established for a series of 10 movies, you'd have around 25 hours of run time. Let's expound on this and think about the James Bond movie franchise. 53 and a half hours for all 25 movies. A pretty solid amount of time to understand one character I would say. That's still shorter than your average long video game. But what about a series of long video games?

The Yakuza franchise has been running since December 8, 2005 and encompasses seven (soon to be eight) mainline titles and several spinoff games. The franchise, up until Yakuza: Like a Dragon, focused primarily on the exploits of Kazuma Kiryu. If you focus primarily on the main story of every game that has been released in the West, you're probably looking at well over 200 hours of gametime. Roughly as many hours as one would put into watching every episode of The Simpsons. If you do every substory and try to experience as much of the story of every game as possible? Your playtime is going to eclipse 500 hours and that is probably being conservative. 200 hours for 34 years of watching Simpsons. 500+ for 18 years of Yakuza where you get to live through the exploits of a fictional character.

That's 500 hours of getting to know Kazuma Kiryu. There are people who have spent more time with this virtual former Yakuza than they have with their own real life friends. As one of those people who has sunk 500+ hours into the franchise, I feel like I have gotten to know Kiryu very well. He is a stoic man. He has a kind side and will help basically anybody who is down on their luck, but he doesn't seem overly sentimental about it. He does show a love and fondness for people he considers 'family' (A young girl/woman as of Y6 named Haruka that's essentially his adopted daughter, her son Haruto and a crew of orphans) but I don't think he is outwardly sappy about it. You just know he cares.

Not only have we sunken a lot of time into playing as Kiryu, but we have also got to experience him in various stages of life. This is one of the big benefits video gaming has in terms of storytelling. In Breaking Bad, if you wanted to show a 17 year old Walter White, you would need to hire an actor to play him. In Yakuza, no matter what, Kiryu is going to look like and be the same Kiryu. Through playing those 500 hours we have seen Kiryu in various stages of life. We have seen him take the fall for a murder he didn't commit, we have seen him basically adopt a young girl, we have seen him fall in and out of love, we have seen him become the patriarch of the Dojima clan only to vacate it, we have seen him 'retire' into life as a taxi driver and we have gotten to see him be a lovable ol' grandpa. There is no 'other' Kiryu actor. Kiryu is Kiryu.

The latest game in the Yakuza/Like a Dragon franchise (Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name) enters us into another phase of his life. He is a man who must pretend he is dead in order to protect his loved ones. He has basically no interactions with familiar faces from those 500+ hours of gametime. There are only small little parts in the story for series mainstays like Haruka Sawamura, Goro Majima, Taiga Saejima and Daigo Dojima. We only know how Kiryu feels about these people because we have played previous games where he is the star.

Taking him away from those he loves makes for a very isolating experience. The game takes place in familiar territory, but everything feels so foreign. We know this is the guy we've spent so much time with because the game explicitly tells us that he is Kiryu, but he spends most of the game's runtime being referred to as Joryu. Kiryu is supposed to be a dead man, so we have this new identity. Most of that time as Joryu is spent around characters the player probably won't be familiar with. You're playing as someone familiar yet someone different.

Yet at the end of the game, we experience something that feels so much deeper because of how much time we've spent with Kiryu. As I've said, we know he is a stoic man with a heart, but he isn't usually put into situations where he can't interact with his loved ones. This game saves the first interactions with his 'family' for the very end. A camera spies the orphans that he cares about visiting his fake grave. A pair of those orphans notice the camera and start talking to it. They never bought that their 'Uncle Kaz' was dead and take this as a sign that he's still kicking. They proceed to tell him about their life.

As the player, you know this is the one area Kiryu cares deeply about. He loves those damn kids. So you are aware that what you are watching has weight. Your mind might flashback to Yakuza 3 where you experience a great deal of playtime hanging around these orphans. You might remember Kiryu putting on a wrestling match to cheer one of these kids up, you might remember Kiryu trying to find out who stole some money from one of the kids, heck you might even remember having to make donations back to the orphanage during Kiryu's time as a taxi driver in Yakuza 5.

But what really sells that weight is Kiryu's reaction. He openly sobs. And not just silently crying as he watches something, he does what I can best describe as 'ugly crying.' As the orphans talk into the camera about their lives since the death of 'Uncle Kaz,' you hear as his breathing gets more and more shallow. You hear everytime he starts to choke up. You hear him sob. You see tears drop onto the screen. Because you spent so much time living as Kiryu and getting to know him through the franchise, this moment feels exceptionally powerful. You've seen Kiryu cry. You've never seen this.

His voice actor gives such an amazing performance here that I sincerely worry about how the English dub patch will convey this. Kiryu has been voiced by the same man (Takaya Kuroda) since the inception. So when you hear Kiryu break down, you hear the same voice you've heard for years doing it. It's like a dear friend finally can't deal with it anymore. Will his new English voice actor YongYea be able to get across these same complex feelings in a different language? Doubtful.

The conversation ends with the orphans saying they were gonna bring everyone back 'tomorrow' so they could talk with Kiryu too. They even promise to bring a present! Unfortunately, since Kiryu is supposed to be dead and since the orphans weren't actually supposed to spot the camera, there is no second video. The camera got removed. However, the gift still comes. You don't get to physically have it because how can a dead man take something? You get a picture of it instead. It's a drawing made by what is the equivalent to Kiryu's grandchild. Haruka's son. It even has Kiryu in it.

When the player sees this, their mind might flash back to Yakuza 6. The feeling of shock when you discover Haruka now has a child and all the missions spent walking around and comforting this kid. You don't know much about this kid's personality now, but you were there from the beginning. You spent probably 50 hours with that little kid. You had to move the controller up and down to comfort him when he cried. He's Kiryu's 'grandson' but you are aware of him too. You spent time with him.

And Kiryu's tears and reactions to this young boy are every bit as gut wrenching as you might expect. You want nothing more for him to go back to his old life in Kamurocho. You want him and Majima to have one more fight. You want Daigo to show up and be like "Look dude, I need ONE more thing from you." But that time has passed. That Kiryu is gone. And in that moment you feel it. Life has continued without him there and the kids are doing well and he did all he could for them while he was 'alive.' He accomplished something great and as a person who played 500+ hours, you feel a piece of that too.

The feelings you get here are feelings that are exclusive to video games. You simply watch Walter White build his meth empire. You simply watch James Bond race around really shitty CGI icebergs. You got to experience these moments Kiryu went through because for 500+ hours you were there too. You were playing pocket circuit like an idiot, you were training up that number one hostess. You put in the time and you got rewarded for it.

In short, Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased his Name is everything that is right about storytelling in video games. It is an experience that can mean something if you merely watch it on youtube, but if you truly put in those 500+ hours it feels a lot more impactful. I can't wait to see where we go from here.

#Like a Dragon #Like a Dragon Gaiden #The man who erased his name #like a dragon gaiden the man who erased his name #yakuza #video games #opinion #rambling #gaming #ps5 #xbox

[kalena-henden]

Lee Je Hoon's Chief Detective 1958 starts today. Can't wait to watch! I enjoyed him in Taxi Driver and really want to watch through his filmography eventually.

Lovely Runner is knocking my socks off! Byeon Wook Seok and Kim Hye Yoon are killing both the comedy and the drama. Wook Seok is the cutest loser in love! The mystery and unexpected twists are fun and interesting. I hope this quality storytelling continues. I'm on the edge of my seat.

I only have 3 episodes left of Love Me Love My Voice which has been wonderful and heartwarming. I love the main romance but the friendships and secondary romances have been given ample time to shine as well. I'm always here a good found family. I really like how the dramatic readings and song perfomances have been carefully woven into the story to further the character development. Definitely recommend.

Now we come to our debrief on The Smile Has Left Your Eyes. Whoa, what a rollercoaster. The first half was interesting with many characters' selfish and dark intentions mixed with a little mystery were set up in contrast to our optimistic, self-sacrificing female lead. However, the second half drowned in major events happening and then being dismissed as if they never happened, multiple secret keepers refusing to tell the secret multiple times an episodes even when asked point blank when the answers could stop so many bad things from happening, and the existential dread I felt about what the big reveal was going to be only for it to completely dismissed. (FYI I found out what I thought was going to be the big reveal IS the actual reveal in the darker Japanese version it's based on.) After episode 14, I wasn't sure I could continue watching the show. But after a night of uneasy sleep, I decided to finish it the next morning on double speed to get through it. I did watch the last 10 minutes at regular speed. While there were some well done things about their relationship in the second half, it couldn't save the show for me even though I went in knowing this was not an HEA. Overall, I was just left feeling angry and exhausted. As a Seo In Guk fan, this was a show I had long wanted to see, just to find out what my opinion on it would be. I'm sad that the SIG fanmeet has been post-poned, hopefully I will be able to make the next date. But this means I feel okay to stop my SIG show binging so I will not be watching Hello Monster anytime soon. I'm actually impressed with how much of SIG's filmography I've already seen (7 shows as a ML, 4 shows as a cameo, and 1 movie). I'm pretty sure it's more than I've seen any other kdrama actor or actress.

After a bad experience at the new dentist yesterday, where the hygienist manhandled my teeth and they tried to upsell me on services, I was in need of a comfort rewatch. I've been thinking alot about Lee Jun Young lately and decided to break out the first thing I ever saw him in, Imitation. I was only going to watch a few favorite parts from an episode or two and ended up binging my favorite parts of most of the series. lol I really hope his upcoming Cinderella romcom with Pyo Ye Jin is going to be good.

I slowly picked Vigilante back up again this week and was excited to see Lee Joon Hyuk's character finally emerge to add a boost of energy and chaos to the story.

Now that I've got some time and the second half of the series has finally dropped, I will continue watching Chae Jong Hyeop's Eye Love You.

#chief detective 1958 #lovely runner #love me love my voice #the smile has left your eyes #imitation #eye love you #kdrama #kalena watches tv #kalena watches kdramas #tv #tv list #kalenapost

[dumfanting]

Same Heart ch 29, The Veteran

AO3 Link

Rating: M, mature

Warnings: wound care, description of injury, implied sex (but there actually isn’t), painkillers

7410 Words

It’s been more than a month since the last update! Life got busy, between finding a job (first day today!) and helping my mom recover from surgery, I didn’t realize how long the gap had become.

Cassia Nu belongs to @kaminocasey, and is the main character in their Bonsoir series; I was given the okay to include this cameo.

F! Reader/ Echo

F! Reader/ Crosshair

You get into the library, then visit Kix, and Rex finds out about the ‘agreement’.

After Hunter returns to his room, you, Echo, and Crosshair leave the hotel and are about to split up for the day. After the debacle with the Duros man yesterday, you make it a point to be sure whoever’s cab the guys get into isn’t being driven by another jackass. You slip Echo enough credits for the ride there and back, kiss his cheek, then Crosshairs, and wave them off as the cab pulls out into traffic.

An empty taxi takes its place, and you hop inside. You quickly consult your data pad, and give the driver, an unusually quiet Gungan woman, the address General Skywalker sent you. As the speeder drives off, your comm device chirps at you with a call from him.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday, it completely slipped my mind,” he says, sounding embarrassed, “you’ll be meeting up with Jocasta Nu at the Library. On the off chance you can’t find her, just ask somebody, everyone there knows who she is.”

“Jocasta Nu, got it,” you repeat, ensuring that you’ll remember the name.

“If she can’t help you figure this out, I don’t think anybody can,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very serious.

“I can’t thank you enough General,” you say, and he interrupts you.

“Just ‘Anakin’ is fine,” he says, catching you by surprise.

“Oh! Okay, um, Anakin. I really can’t put into words how much you doing this means to me,” you say, feeling odd about using a superiors first name.

“Hey, I’m just as invested as you are, remember?” he says, laughing a little.

“Right! I’ll let you know whatever we find out. Thank you again sir,” you say brightly.

Before he can say anything else, you hear what sounds like Rex getting his attention in the background.

“Yeah, we’ll meet up later,” he says, ending the call.

You return your comm to your bag and it occurs to you that you still don't know who exactly you’ll be meeting. All you’ve got to go on now is a name and that she’s a woman. You can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by this though; not only is the General (or Anakin , apparently) doing you a massive favor, you know he’s got an entire galaxy’s worth of bigger things to contend with.

You spend the rest of the ride to the Library thinking about everything you’ve experienced up to this point. It all weighs heavily on your mind, and you’re so deep in thought that you don’t realize right away when the speeder has parked. You shake yourself, pay the driver and thank her, then step outside.

The sheer size of the place is intimidating, and when you notice a few Jedi in their brown robes looking curiously at you, you feel grossly out of place. Despite that, you make your way up the stone stairs, determined to get to the bottom of whatever’s been happening to you. Once inside, you find yourself in a wide hall, and your footsteps echo loudly in the impressive space.

You have no idea where to go. You’re sure that Master Nu would be in the actual library area, but it feels very wrong for you to just go waltzing inside. You glance around, wishing you’d gotten more about her from Anakin, and so don’t immediately notice the young human woman you crash into.

You both hit the floor and you quickly scramble to your feet. You bend and offer your hand before you pull her to her feet, apologizing profusely. She dusts herself off and meets your eyes, and you’re momentarily startled by her fair skin and bright red hair; she’s very pretty. You ask if she’s alright.

“Oh, I’m okay, you just startled me,” she says, waving it off. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, but she frowns slightly at you.

“Now, I’ll admit that I don’t know every single person who comes through here, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” she says, sounding more curious than suspicious.

“Well, this is my first time here. Do you know who Jocasta Nu is? I’m supposed to meet her inside,” you say, and the woman smiles brightly at you.

“Oh! She’s my great aunt, I was just on my way out from visiting her,” she says. She tells you to follow her, and you match her stride as she leads you through the entrance hall. You chat a little, and find out that her name is Cassia, and that she owns a small bookstore.

“Like, actual ink and flimsi books?” you say, surprised. She nods at you.

“There’s something special about having a physical copy in your hands, y’know?” she says, and you agree. You both continue walking and she asks about you. You give her your name and tell her that you’re a contracted field medic in the GAR. She seems impressed, but doesn’t ask about it.

By this point, you’ve reached the doors, and once you step through, you’re taken aback by the grandeur of the Library.

This room is just as impressive (and intimidating) as the building itself. The ceiling is high and the polished floor is so reflective that it makes the place appear even larger than it already is. Looking around, you see rows and rows of what appear to be data banks sprawling across the floor, and they’re several feet high. The way they’re laid out creates twisting paths of varying width, occasionally spacing out far enough to create a sort of ‘clearing’ which houses computer terminals, desks, and chairs. It all reminds you of a well traveled forest, though with much better lighting, and hopefully less wild animals. You can hear the soft tapping of footsteps, the hum of the terminals, and the occasional chirp of a droid.

As you’re marveling at the place, you hear someone say Cassia’s name, which redirects you to the task at hand.

“I thought you were leaving?” they say.

“Oh, I still am, I just literally bumped into someone who’s looking for you,” Cassia says, gesturing towards you.

You look toward the voice and see a short, wizened old human woman with brown robes and white hair approaching the two of you. She looks you up and down and claps her hands together.

“Ah, of course!” she says. She asks your name and you give it to her, then she nods at you and says “Anakin told me to expect you today.”

Cassia smiles at her great aunt, then looks over at you.

“It was nice to meet you,” she says. “The next time you’re planetside, you think you’ll be able to come by The Spine?” she says.

“Sure, I’d love to see the place,” you say, also smiling at her.

Cassia quickly digs a bit of flimsi and a stylus out of her bag and writes down the address for you. You take it and tuck it into your own bag.

“I’ll be heading back out then,” she says, politely excusing herself. “Be safe out there, okay?” she says, speaking to you directly. You nod and tell her to do the same, then she leaves through the door you both came in and Master Nu waves goodbye to her great niece.

“She’s a sweet girl, my Cassia,” she says fondly, before returning her attention to you. When she continues speaking, her tone is business-like. “Now, Anakin and I agreed that it would be better if I heard about everything from you directly, so I don't know much. Once you fill me in, I’ll know where to start,” she says, walking down an aisle.

You follow her through the data banks and into a secluded ‘clearing’ in a smaller section with nobody else around to overhear, which you appreciate. You both take a seat in a pair of nearby chairs.

“Whenever you’re ready dear,” she says. You nod at her, then take a deep breath and tell your stories yet again. She’s listening intently and looks startled when you describe the shared dream. That expression changes into near-shock after you finish talking about how you felt Fives with you back in the ship’s bunks.

“Good Maker,” she says quietly. “Is there anything else?”

You think about the vague feeling of dread that’s been following you around since Anakin confirmed that you are force sensitive, but halfheartedly brush that off as general anxiety about the war.

“No ma’am, I think I understand everything else just fine,” you say, shifting in your seat.

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” Master Nu says. “Which I know isn’t a very helpful answer. Out of everything, what stands out to you the most?” she asks.

“I mean, Anakin was able to explain a fair bit of the visions to me,” you say. “So the biggest thing is the shared dream, and what happened in the bunks,” you say, then pause for a moment. “It all seems to come back to Fives, doesn’t it?” you say softly.

“It certainly looks that way,” she says. “You’ve been through quite a lot. I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any direct answers for you, but I do know where to look for them. Follow me,” she says. She gets to her feet and beckons you to join her.

You obediently walk alongside Master Nu as she leads you to a large terminal station in the center of the cavernous space. She activates one and types in your name, followed by a few other things, as you watch. She must have Sensed your confusion.

“Oh, I’m not looking up anything about you, don’t worry about that; we leave the GAR affairs entirely separate from the data here,” she explains, chuckling softly. “I’ve simply taken the liberty of adding you into our registry. I get the feeling you’ll need more time than just today to find what you're looking for, so now you're free to come and go without a chaperone,” she says.

“Oh, thank you!” you say, surprised by her thoughtfulness. Master Nu smiles softly at you.

“Anytime dear. Now,” she says, clapping her hands together again, “I’m sure you want to get right to it, yes?”

“I do, yes. I’ll be shipping out in a few days, so the sooner the better,” you say, inclining your head in her direction.

She starts walking again, quickly this time, and you follow her once more through another twisting pathway between the data banks.

“Is there a way to access any of this from outside?” you ask, recalling that Anakin asked why you didn’t just have Tech look into any of this for you.

“No, there isn’t, it’s all encrypted. Security reasons, I’m sure you understand,” she says, then you nod at her while she turns a corner and stops so abruptly that you nearly run into her too.

Master Nu scans over a nearby display screen, then you watch as she fishes a small key out of her robes. She uses it to unlock a section of the data bank just out of her reach, then uses the Force to summon a handful of data chips, catching them between her fingers. You watch, spellbound, and wonder if you’ll ever be able to move objects like that. The librarian takes a moment to carefully examine each one, then uses the Force again to put two of them away. She locks the bank, then goes back into her robes. This time she pulls out a small box with slots for each chip, and she carefully sets each one place before closing it and handing it to you.

“There we are, that should be enough to get you started,” Master Nu says. “If you need help finding another section, I’m usually near the entrance or the terminals at the center, so come find me and I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” she says.

You briefly bow your head at her, saying how thankful you are for her help, and she gives you a soft smile before leaving you to your own devices.

You examine the box in your hand. It’s small, like something a ring would be held in, and after you crack it open you count eight different data chips.

A sudden chill runs through you as you realize that you may be holding the answers to everything in the palm of your hand.

You carefully close the box and retrace your steps, stopping in another clearing full of chairs, then plop yourself down into the first one you see. After retrieving your datapad from your bag, you unlock it and open the box of chips. You aren’t sure if there’s a specific order they need to be read in, so to be safe, you delicately pick out the one in the first slot and click it into the side of your device.

It takes a few seconds to load, and in that time you briefly wonder if Echo and Crosshair have reached Shalka’s yet. You realize that unless Echo warned him, Crosshair would have no idea what he’d be dealing with. You can’t help but smirk and wish you were there to see his face the first time she casually swears at him.

After the text finally loads, you shift your focus and the world around you takes a backseat as you read.

Around the same time, miles away, the two clones are stepping through the door into Shalka Myrr’s workshop. The speeder they had taken there was open-air, so they didn’t bother trying to talk on the way, and they’re still quiet. Echo goes first and Crosshair follows, then does a double-take at the barely organized clutter of the small space.

“Good Maker, I thought Tech was bad,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, Meds said something like that too,” Echo says. “Apparently I haven’t been around long enough to see it yet,” he continues with a shrug.

“You’re calling her that?” Crosshair says, surprised.

“Should I not? The rest of you do,” Echo says, frowning slightly.

“Well yeah, but-,” Crosshair says, sounding skeptical, but Echo interrupts him.

“Look, I know you gave her the name, and I don't care. If we’re going to make this thing with her work, we can’t keep doing that ‘me versus you’ shit,” he says firmly.

“Fair enough,” Crosshair concedes, looking around the room again. Echo also glances around, trying to figure out which ‘fuckin’ shelf collapsed’ after he left with you yesterday.

On the heels of that thought, just as he wonders where Shalka is, there’s a sudden crash and a loud curse from the back of the room. Crosshair meets Echos eyes and raises a brow at him.

“That seems to happen here a lot,” Echo says, unaffected, before carefully making his way through the space, around the packed shelving units, and toward the workbench. Crosshair follows, and is startled when a large chunk of something metal hits the floor and skids across it with a screech, having been thrown from a smaller room beside the workbench.

Shalka steps out after it, muttering in the same unfamiliar language to herself. She bends down and retrieves the object, then throws it into an unmarked barrel, scowling as if it had personally offended her. When she turns toward the room, she obviously isn’t expecting the two of them to be there, if her sudden shout is any indication.

“Dank ferrik, I have got to get that fuckin’ door chime fixed,” she says, regaining her composure quickly and pinching at the bridge of her nose. She’s dressed like she was yesterday, only her cargo pants are a medium tan color and her tank top is blue with quite a few scorch marks on it. She hasn’t bothered with the goggles or gloves yet, but she does have one of the styluses you gave her yesterday tucked behind an ear.

“Well Hero, now that my hearts aren’t gonna stop, hurry up and sit, we got a lot to do and not much time to do it,” she says. Echo obeys and Shalka gathers some materials and the large flimsi sheet of sketches and notes from yesterday, then drops them onto the workbench. She moves to walk into the larger area of the room, and bumps into Crosshair.

“Who the hell is this?” Shalka barks, crossing her arms and regarding him suspiciously. Crosshair is taken aback by her attitude and doesn’t know how to react, so he just stands there.

Echo, trying not to laugh, quickly fills her in. Shalka looks the sniper up and down again.

“Never heard of ya,” she says dismissively. When Crosshair still hasn’t moved, she rolls her eyes at him.

“You gonna get out of my way?” she says, moving her hands to her hips, and he finally stands aside. “Thank you,” she mumbles, exasperated, as she pushes past him to grab a few more things.

He looks over at Echo, who’s snickering. “Probably should’ve warned you,” Echo says while Crosshair shakes his head in disbelief.

“What, that I’m rude?” Shalka says from directly behind him, startling the sniper for a third time. She frowns at him for a few seconds before returning to her stool at her workbench and dropping a few more small containers onto it.

“Bit jumpy, ain’t he?” she says, settling down. She throws a sharp look at him. “You ever say anything?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Crosshair growls, having returned to his senses.

“By the Maker, he can talk!” Shalka says in exaggerated surprise, holding her hands on either side of her face, then she shakes her head at him and returns her attention to Echo, who’s having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Smirking, she taps the worktop, and Echo stretches his replaced arm across it. After taking off the armor he had on that arm, she picks up a small screwdriver and taps it a few times against the link, a couple of joints, and near the point where the metal of the cybernetic meets his skin.

“Can you feel that?” she asks, and Echo shakes his head. “Good, otherwise this is gonna suck,” she continues. She leans down to one side, and returns with the high magnification goggles in her cybernetic hand. She quickly pulls them on, and, surprisingly gently, takes hold of Echos scomp and begins to undo a few screws.

“So where’s Sunshine at? Surprised she ain’t here with ya,” Shalka says.

Echo internally panics for a second, unsure of if you’d said anything about your plans to Crosshair or not, and if you had, he doesn’t know what you’ve told him. Crosshair doesn’t seem to notice this and speaks up.

“She got shot-,” he starts, but is cut off by a startled exclamation from the Zabrak woman.

“What the fuck you doin’ here then?” she asks, dropping the screwdriver and staring at Echo in confusion.

“Excuse you,” Crosshair hisses, regaining her attention. “As I was saying, she got shot during our last mission and she’s getting it checked out today. If you had let me fucking speak, you wouldn’t have needed to freak out like that.”

Once again, Shalka crosses her arms and looks him up and down, then she smirks.

“Well, with the way you worded that, how else was I supposed to react?” she says, and the two stare skeptically at each other until she speaks again. “You’re an ass, you know. I like you. Now sit down, shut up, and lemme work,” she says, gesturing to the empty stool on Echos' right side.

Echo glances between her and the confused expression on Crosshairs face and can’t help but laugh again, sorry that you’re missing this.

Over in the Library a few hours later, you’re about halfway through reading the fourth data chip. Taking in the history of Force abilities and related events throughout the galaxy is fascinating, but you’re getting annoyed, as you’ve yet to find anything pertinent. You take a breath and remind yourself that you’ve only just begun your research, so it’s highly unlikely that you’ll discover anything this soon. The chrono on your wrist chimes the hour, and when you glance at it you’re mildly startled by how long you’ve been here.

You decide to pack it in for today, since you still wanted to go see Kix. You carefully eject the chip from your datapad and replace it in the small box before getting to your feet and stretching. You return your device into your bag, and you’re about to stow the box away too before you realize that you probably can’t take it out of the building. You don’t remember where the chips came from, but even if you did, it was unlikely you’d be able to find them again tomorrow. You decide to see Master Nu and ask if there’s a way to have them set aside for you.

After taking a few wrong turns, you eventually make your way back to the center of the room. Master Nu isn’t at the terminals, so you continue toward the doors you came in through, spotting her nearby behind a kind of counter. She glances up at you as you approach.

“Oh, you’re through already?” she says, surprised.

“For today,” you say. “I have a few other errands I need to take care of.”

“Understandable,” she says, nodding. “Did you find anything?” she asks.

“As interesting as it all is, no, not yet. But I didn’t really expect to right away,” you say.

“I imagine you’ll be back tomorrow then,” she says, and you nod.

“That’s actually why I’m here. I got about halfway through the box, but I don’t think I can take it with me-,” you start, before Master Nu gently interrupts.

“Oh my no, they cannot leave this room,” she says, holding her hand out. You give her the box and she continues; “Did you say you’ve already read half of these?” she asks, sounding impressed.

“Yes, I read pretty quickly,” you say.

“You and Cassia would get along well, I think,” she says thoughtfully. “Anyway, since you’re coming back tomorrow, I’ll keep this,” she says, gesturing with the box, “in here,” she continues, opening a kind of safe or cabinet, “so you don’t have to find it again.”

“Oh, good, I was just about to ask, thank you,” you say.

You watch her place the box snugly into a perfectly sized niche in the safe, then close it before running a fingertip along a small sensor at the top.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Master Nu says, and you thank her again before making an exit.

You walk through the entrance hall, thinking about what you’d learned today. What little you found that was relevant to the events with Fives was not quite what you were looking for. It had basically repeated what Anakin told you in the beginning; a shared dream is incredibly rare between those who are Sensitive and those who are not. You sigh, then hail another cab.

One pulls up and you step inside, telling the driver, an old Pantoran man, that you need to get to the GAR headquarters. He moves back into the flow of traffic and regards you through the rear view mirror.

“Pardon me nosin’ around, but what business you got there?” he asks. Similar to Cassia earlier, he sounds more curious than anything else, so you humor him.

“I got shot during my last mission and I’m going to get it looked over before we ship out again,” you say.

“They got you goin’ on missions?” he asks as he glances into his mirror at you again, surprised.

“They do,” you say, staying friendly but not volunteering too much information.

“Why the hell you get involved with the war?” he says, sounding confused. “Ah damn,” he says, catching himself. “That was rude, sorry abou’ that.”

“I'm a civilian contractor, I work for the GAR as a field and combat medic,” you say. The man is quiet for a moment before speaking again.

“I dunno if that’s admirable or crazy,” he says.

“Bit of both?” you respond, keeping the tone light.

“Yeah, I ‘spose that’s fair. There anyone else like you?” he asks.

You take your turn to be quiet and think.

Aside from Bortuse and maybe one or two others back in your old stomping grounds, everyone you’ve worked with has been either a Jedi or a clone. You also can’t recall seeing many other ‘nat-borns’ during your missions with the Batch.

“I haven’t given it much thought before,” you admit. “But no, not really. I’ve been working for the Republic from the beginning, but I’ve only met three or four others from the private sector,” you say.

“Shame, that,” the driver says, making a left turn.

“How so?” you asked, taken aback by the comment.

“Well, the Clones don’t got much choice in the matter, and the Jedi ain’t much better off,” he says.

You frown, but hold your tongue. You know damn well that the Clones have no choice whatsoever, but this isn’t the place to go off about it.

“You’re different,” the man continues. “Takes a special kinda person to volunteer for that brand of hell,” he says.

“Oh no, I’m not-,” you say, but he cuts you off.

“Yes ma’am, y’are. Folks like you are the only ones who can really appreciate the men getting kilt out there, if you’re askin’ me,” he says. You sit in surprised silence for a moment, slipping back into thought before eventually speaking again.

“It’s just so cruel,” you say quietly. “To be forced into existence for the sole purpose to be used as nothing more than a tool and thrown away.”

“Aye, it is,” the man says.

There’s a minute of somber silence before he speaks up again.

“You get hurt bad?” he asks.

“Thankfully it just grazed me, but I don’t know if it’s worse than it looks,” you say.

“Smart thinkin’ then, getting it looked at,” he says. He hesitates for a second, and you can tell he wants to ask something else.

“We were overrun by droids,” you say quietly, correctly guessing what his unspoken question was. “One of the men was already injured and I took a shot aimed at him while I pushed him out of the way,” you continue, keeping the story as bare bones as possible.

The man softly says something in a language you don’t understand, and you’re startled when a strong gust of respect rolls over you from him. He doesn’t say anything else to you until he stops along the sidewalk. You count out the credits you owe, then hand it to him. He takes it and says “Thank you, miss,” with an odd earnestness.

This feels like too great of a response for such a simple transaction, so you hesitate before leaving the cab.

“Now, I gotta be clear on something,” he says. “I wasn’t thankin’ you for the money.” He turns around and you get a look at his face for the first time, managing to hold back a sound of surprise. He has a cybernetic eye, and a good third of his face, neck, and head are heavily scarred by burns.

“Back when I was fightin’, nobody cared abou’ us. It didn’t matter if we was out there or back home, dead or alive. So it gives me hope, meetin’ someone like you. Not many people left can really appreciate what you’re doing, but I can. So, thank you,” he says.

He holds out an equally scarred hand. Unable to speak, you take it and give him a firm shake as you lock eyes for a moment.

“Be safe out there, miss,” he says, giving you a crisp salute before turning back around.

“Y-yeah. You do the same, sir,” you say quietly before stepping out of the speeder.

Once you’re on the sidewalk and have walked a few steps away, the cab merges back into traffic. You watch it drive away until you can’t see it anymore, and regret not asking the man his name.

As you make your way through the familiar halls of the GAR headquarters, the conversation you just had with the old veteran replays in your mind, and you remember when you and Hunter had a similar conversation, just before the Trench mission. It seems like you really should give yourself a little more credit than you do, if these talks are anything to go by. You glance over the faces of everyone you pass on the way to the med bay, and aside from the clones and occasional Jedi, you don’t see anybody else. Now that the lack of contractors like you has been pointed out, it bothers you greatly.

You’re about to step through another set of doors when someone calls your name, getting your attention. You look around and spot a clone in full kit headed in your direction, then recognize Jesse by the distinct design on his helmet, which he slips off as he gets closer.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. “I thought you stayed with Echo?”

“Oh, I did, the squad is just taking some leave for the next few days,” you say.

“Still doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here,” he says, smirking.

“I got shot before we left Anaxes, I wanted Kix to take another look at it,” you say, starting to walk again.

Jesse, startled, asks how that happened, and you spend the remainder of your walk through the halls filling him in about the mission and what happened to you. When you're done talking, he tells you what that same day looked like on his side.

“It’s a damn good thing that Echo was there,” he says. “I don’t think we would have made it out otherwise.” You nod.

“Absolutely. I swore to myself that if I lost anyone else I’d go supernova, but thankfully that didn’t happen,” you say.

“Yeah, we definitely don’t want that,” he says, holding a door open for you. You thank him and continue walking, then realize that he (hopefully) hadn’t heard about you snapping on Skako Minor. You debate telling him about it, but remember how he and Crosshair had nearly come to blows, twice, during your joint mission and decide not to.

“So you really took a shot for him?” Jesse asks, referring back to Echo. You nod and stop for a second. You can’t show him the actual injury without undressing, but by slipping your belt downwards and pulling the fabric of your caftan taut against your side, he can see the shape of the bandages well enough.

“I’m surprised Rex didn’t tell you anything about it,” you say, pulling everything back into place before moving forward again.

“He did say you were hurt but didn’t really go into details,” Jesse says with a shrug, then glances around as if he’d just realized something.

“Speaking of Echo, where is he? I’m surprised you’ve let him out of your sight,” he says. You roll your eyes, then quickly tell him about Shalka. Before he can say anything else, you finally make it to Kix’s office and knock on the door. As it slides open, Jesse says it was good to see you again and nods at Kix in the doorway before returning to what he was doing.

Kix nods back, then steps aside to let you in.

“You missed me that much, huh?” he says with a smirk, leaning back on his desk.

“Gotta get my Kix fix,” you say with a laugh. Kix stares at you for a second before snorting back a laugh of his own.

“That was terrible,” he says.

You roll your eyes and playfully jab his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know, but if we can focus, I think you should take another look at my side,” you say, gesturing to it. Kix frowns slightly.

“What for? I told you earlier that it was fine, did something happen?” he asks, standing normally again and approaching you.

You quickly talk about how it’s been healing, but mainly focus on the pain you feel when you flex the muscles on that side.

“I think there might be damage deeper than we realized,” you say, and he nods.

“Yeah, I’ll look at it again, and if I find anything, we can figure out where to go from there,” he says before quickly moving to wash his hands and glove up.

As he does this, you undo your belt and pull your dress off over your head, then lie on a nearby cot, absentmindedly slipping out of your shoes. You turn onto your uninjured side and, with your permission, Kix carefully removes your bandages. You hiss with discomfort as they peel away from your skin and tug at the raw edges of the wound. He kneels onto the floor beside you, tells you he’ll need to actually feel into it to get a better idea of what’s going on below the surface, and you nod at him, despite the anxious lurch in your stomach.

Rex, having heard from Jesse a few minutes ago that you’re in the building, is walking through the halls and wondering where you went. He doesn’t have to wonder for long though; when he passes Kix’s office he's startled to hear a high gasp that sounds exactly like you coming from inside. He freezes in front of the door, listening.

“Oh my god, Kix,” you whine, and Rex immediately pictures the worst.

Kix says your name. “I know. You’re doing great,” he says, his voice low and soft.

Rex is tempted to barge in there and confirm his suspicions, but he hesitates; he doesn’t want another blowup like you two had on Anaxes. As he debates on what to do, you suddenly gasp and make a startled kind of sound.

“Kix, Rex is outside, he can hear us,” you pant.

“How the hell does she know?” Rex thinks, taking a single step back.

“Do you want me to chase him off?” Kix asks, and Rex is surprised when you laugh a little before moaning softly.

“Just keep going, I don’t care if he sees me like this,” you say.

“Well, if you’re sure. The doors unlocked, Rex,” he says, speaking up.

Incensed by how blatant this is, Rex marches into the room, ready to tear into you both, but freezes when he sees what’s really going on.

Your dress, belt, and shoes are in a heap at the foot of the cot you’re lying on, and you’re wearing only a bra and panties, but it’s the least sexy thing he’s ever seen. Kix, gloved up and kneeling beside you, is carefully prodding around on top of and slightly into your blaster-shot wound, his gloved hands red at the fingertips. Kix looks at you apologetically and does a few final palpitations. You curse and cry out his name again as your eyes water over with pain, then he sits back on his heels, taking his hands off of you.

“We’re done now, you can relax,” he says, his voice soft again.

Rex, having been given obvious context to what he’d heard, turns away, ashamed of himself. How the hell he’d overlooked not only that you’d been shot, but you were also in the medics office was a mystery to him.

“You know,” Kix says, pulling Rex out of his own head and getting to his feet, “I’m surprised Echo isn’t with you.” Kix disposes of his soiled gloves before washing his hands again and pulling on a new pair. He then grabs a med kit similar to the one you used last night, comes back to the cot, and returns to his knees beside you.

“Jesse thought that too,” you say.

While Kix redresses your wound, you tell him and Rex about the work Shalka is doing for Echo, and by the time you’ve finished talking, he’s bandaged you back up. Kix stands again and sheds his gloves, then washes his hands a third time. Once you’re dressed and back on your feet, he tells you that there is indeed muscle damage.

“Dank ferrik, of course there is,” you say, exasperated, as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “So now what?”

“Come to this room first thing tomorrow morning,” Kix says, then writes something down on a scrap of flimsi and hands it to you. “It’s too deep to heal properly with how we’ve been treating it, but after a few hours in a bacta soak it should significantly improve.”

An anxious pit starts to form in your gut at the thought of such a confined space, but you stop it by wondering how long the treatment will keep you from Echo (and your research). Annoyed by the inconvenience, but recognizing its necessity, you nod in understanding at Kix without saying anything. He appears to think for a second, then hands you a small pill, which you swallow dry without pause.

“That should stop the pain for the rest of the day, but it'll make you feel tipsy, so I suggest you get some sleep,” he says after you take it. You thank him, then step back into the hallway with Rex.

Having a rare few minutes of free time, the captain decides to walk you out of the building and back outside. About halfway there, you notice that he keeps side-eyeing you, and you stop.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you say, confused.

“I'm trying to figure out how you knew it was me on the other side of the door back there,” he says. A jolt of panic crosses your face and you pray that he doesn’t notice.

“Lucky guess,” you say, attempting to be casual about it, but the way he’s watching you tells you he’s not buying the act. You sigh and say “you’re a smart man Rex, I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now.”

He smirks at you and you hold back an annoyed sigh.

“What was your first clue?” you ask, slowly starting to walk again.

“Aside from the few dreams you’ve mentioned to me, right?” he says, matching your pace. You nod at him.

“General Skywalker has a habit of thinking out loud; I’ve heard him mumbling your name every now and then, and since all your reports are filed there’s no real reason you’d stay in contact with him,” Rex says with a shrug.

“Yep, nailed it,” you say, sighing again.

“So you are Sensitive then?” he asks, and you instinctively check to see if anyone’s overheard him, but thankfully there’s nobody around.

“Yes, I am. Now, call it a gut feeling, or instinct, or whatever, but only you, Echo, and Anakin know; I’m keeping it as quiet as possible.” you say, preemptively explaining yourself.

“Anakin?” Rex says, distracted.

“It feels so weird to use his first name, but yeah, he told me to call him that now, I guess since he’s been helping me figure out this Force stuff,” you say, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. Rex says nothing, and appears to be deep in thought.

The pair of you make it to the entrance you came in through without saying anything else, and Rex’s thoughts are interrupted when he sees Echo approaching you both.

“Oh, hey!” you say, surprised but smiling and giving him a tight hug. He rests his forehead against yours, and you briefly close your eyes, enjoying the contact with him.

“Shalka finished up with me early, she’s going to be fabricating for the rest of the day,” Echo says, stepping back and giving you a soft kiss. “Besides, we thought we’d surprise you,” he continues.

“We?” Rex says, confused.

“Oh yeah, you don’t know about that,” Echo says.

“About what?” Rex asks.

At the same time, Crosshair makes it through the crowd and reaches you. Neither of you say anything before he pulls you in close and kisses you deeply.

Rex glances between the three of you, completely bewildered, and Echo is trying not to laugh at his stunned face.

“That,” Echo says.

After you and Crosshair break apart, you flush when you realize Rex is staring at you. Crosshair gives him a stiff nod without saying anything, which he returns.

“So, what did Kix say?” Echo asks, changing the subject while stepping closer to you and snaking his arm around your waist. You quickly fill him and Crosshair in on what went on earlier.

“He gave her something for the pain, it should be kicking in around now,” Rex adds as you finish talking. Before anyone can say anything else, Rex’s comm chirps at him; Anakin is asking for him. Rex shoots you three an apologetic look before jogging back inside the building and answering the call.

You dig your own comm out of your bag and call for a taxi. They say it’ll be a few minutes before one arrives, so after you end the call you lead the other two to a bench nearby and sit. Crosshair notices you smirking at him, and makes a ‘what?’ kind of sound at you.

“So how’d you get along with Shalka?” you ask with a snicker. He rolls his eyes while Echo laughs. They tell you about their day until the taxi arrives. When you stand up from the bench, you stumble forward and barely manage to catch yourself.

“Looks like that painkiller is starting to work,” Crosshair says, amused. You try to walk toward the taxi, but stumble a second time, tripping over your own feet and falling backwards into him, and he catches you with Echo’s help.

The two men exchange a glance and hold you steady by the shoulders, steering you toward the cab. Echo slides into the enclosed speeder first and you follow, but trip on your own feet again and land in his lap. Crosshair comes in behind you and gives the driver the hotel address. When the speeder starts moving, you sit up, but stay in Echo’s lap, which surprises him.

“My legs won’t bother you?” he asks quietly.

“Kix must have given me something good, I can’t feel a damn thing,” you say, giggling. “But- but even if I could, I don’t care. I like who they’re attached to,” you continue. You settle yourself, rest your head in the hollow of his left shoulder, and drape your legs over Crosshair's knees.

He looks like he’s going to say something, but is stopped by a sudden loud snore; you’ve already fallen asleep.

The ride back is spent in relative silence, save for an occasional snore or mumble from you. By the time the taxi reaches its destination, the sun is starting to set.

Once you’ve arrived, Echo shakes you awake and you yawn widely.

“Are we there yet?” you ask, still half asleep. Crosshair pays the driver, then leads you back onto the sidewalk, firmly holding his hand on your waist.

“Yeah, we’re there,” Echo says, holding your right hand in his left.

“Ok good,” you mumble. “‘M sleepy.”

The two men guide you back into the hotel while Crosshair speaks.

“I know kitten, we’re taking you to bed,” he says. You perk up, glancing between the two of them and giggling even more.

“Ha, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” you say. “I would,” you add as an afterthought.

Once you’ve reached the cluster of rooms you’d gotten for everyone, Echo unlocks yours and the three of you head inside. You’re led to the large bed, and he slips your belt and caftan off over your head. Crosshair joins you and undoes the hooks of your binder, tossing it aside. You kick your shoes off, then giggle again and look pointedly between them both.

“Getting right to it, I like that,” you say in what you think is a seductive voice.

In reality, you sound like a Bantha with a head cold, so they just shake their heads at you and guide you onto your back. Echo adjusts your pillow while Crosshair pulls the blankets over you. You feel sleep quickly approaching, but before you give in, you gesture to them both and they bend down to your level.

You look at Echo and cup his cheek, then do the same to Crosshair.

“Mine,” you say, glancing between the two of them.

In near-perfect sync, they each move their faces away from your hands, kiss your palms and say “yours.” You giggle again, then fall asleep immediately afterward.

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