#i did want to know WHY she stopped the flute

[aquanutart]

I enjoyed watching a cetitan chase arven in paldean winds. I thought "wow they are Fast"

#pokemon #pokemon sv #paldean winds #arven #cetitan #fuecoco #aquanutart #fuecoco is thinking 'i helped!!!' #yes you did!!!! #cetitan is one of my favorite new pokemon designs they are adorable.... snow whale #FAST snow whale!!! #whenever i see beautiful pokemon animation i cry from seeing the world come to life and feeling the power of pokemon ... #(spoilers) #>>>>>>>>>> #i did want to know WHY she stopped the flute #i imagined that her father put pressure on her to perform so she stopped because it wasn't bringing her any joy #but when she realized she could actually make a difference to another creature with it she regained her love for it

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Revenge, a Dish Served Colder than Snow || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

GIF by @kvtnisseverdeen and divider by @firefly-graphics

A/n: I'd just like to say that this is not book or movie accurate whatsoever. Finnick is not even alive yet when Coriolanus was in his early 20s. I just really wanted to include him in this because he's hot and I love him. Also, lets just imagine he has been gone long enough that the next hunger games was about to happen.

Warnings: choking, swearing if there are others lmk

Wc:

P.t 1 P.t 2

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Previous

“Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.

Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.

~

Coriolanus watched with curious eyes once he saw you enter the room. He hadn't seen you for a couple weeks after that day he came back and moaned out Lucy Gray's name while fucking you. Even under that masquerade mask, Snow could tell it was you.

His eyebrow quirks up when he notices a man by your side. "Who is that?" He points to the mysterious man beside you as Livia looks over to where he was pointing. A chuckle leaves her lips, "Jealous, snow?" She swirls the alcohol in her flute before taking a sip.

"That right there beside your dear y/n is none other than Finnick Odair," Livia wets her lips. "A tribute. From district 4," She continues as Coriolanus' eyes follow the two of you, Finnick's hand resting far too low on your back for his liking.

"What is a fucking tribute doing with her then?" He scoffs, leaning forward on his seat. "Has your time as peacekeeper in district 12 forgotten how much power Y/n has?" She looks at him as if he was an idiot. "She just vouched for him, convinced her daddy to let him stay with her." Liv shrugs.

Coriolanus lets out a scoff, "Are you jealous of a district boy? He is pretty handsome don't you think. A strong competitor for sure," She says before standing up and leaving Snow in his thoughts. A few minutes later, he gets up from where he was sitting and manoeuvres his body across the crowd of elitist members and other wealthy people of Panem.

"What are you doing here with him?" Snow pops a grape into his mouth as you pause your actions and look to him by your side. Of course he was going to be here. "And why do you care? Coriolanus?" You chastise, "Do not. Call me that," He mutters at you, a stern expression on his face as you smirk.

"Well, if you must know. I took a liking to the tribute and let's just say, gotten quite comfortable with each other," A smile makes it to your lips as you could see Snow visibly annoyed. "He's a fucking tribute-" "Oh isn't that rich coming from you, Snow?" You let out a laugh as you face him. "That's exactly what I thought when I questioned your intentions with Lucy-" "Y/n, don't" "And there you were. Moaning her fucking name while inside me!"

You harshly say as a couple people around pause to look at you both. Coriolanus could tell you had drunk a bit more than you could handle. "Y/n, let's talk somewhere else," He takes your hands, ready to pull you away. You yank his grip off of you.

"No! I'm not done!" Snow runs a hand down his face at your loud outburst. "I never knew that you could stoop so fucking low you know. First it was cheating so that your precious tribute would win, and then you go chase her in her district and-" You couldn't finish your sentence as Coriolanus lurches towards him, hand gripping the base of your neck as your look at him in horror.

He squeezes it enough to make you shut up and gasp slightly for air. The people around you gasp at what had just happened. "Shut the fuck up. Shut your mouth before I do something I will regret," He spat, his hand squeezing as he shakes you."Get off of her!" Finnick shouts, pulling Snow away from you as you hold onto him, your hand touching your neck.

You then push Finnick away before doing something that further fueled the fire inside Coriolanus. You bowed. Just like her. Exactly like how Lucy Gray bowed at the reaping ceremony. A few stifled laughs could be heard throughout the room as Coriolanus looks horrified. He gulps, loosening his tie as you smirk at him

Coriolanus quickly leaves the room, breathing heavily as he runs his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what took over him. But he saw red the second you mentioned Lucy Gray. He swore he never intended to harm you. But he couldn’t help it.

His pent up emotions from the past couple of weeks needing diffusing. And you were pretty darn good at pushing specific buttons within him. Coriolanus caught glimpse of your figure entering the bathroom, he follows you whilst looking around, making sure no one was around.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, tears brimming your eyes as you study your neck, already bruising from his iron like grip. You were horrified, shocked, and most of all hurt, by Coriolanus. He never once touched you with such violence and he always reassured you that he would never hurt you and here you were. Crying in the bathroom stalls.

Even after the events that occurred when he came back, you couldn’t stop thinking about Coryo. You just couldn’t help yourself. He was your first everything. You lean your hands on the counter as you drop your head, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Coriolanus immediately heard your cries the minute he’s close to the bathroom door. He pauses. Leans his ear against the door and lets out sigh before entering. His entrance caught you by surprise as you stumble back upon seeing his tall figure.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He says, sadness and guilt laced in his tone as he looks at you in sympathy, his eyes flickering your neck where he caused damage. You refused to meet his eyes as you turn your head to the side.

“But you should know better than to publicly humiliate me infront of everyone-“ A loud scoff emits your lips as you turn to him. “Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.

Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.

Before you walk through the door, you stop and turn to face him. His expression angry, his hands were bawled up into fists, the wall beside him had a whole where he punctured it with his hand. “Don’t ever try talking to me again, Coriolanus. I mean it. Or I’ll do something you’ll regret.” You conclude before turning back around and walking away.

Coriolanus Snow knew without a doubt that you were capable of so many things that would hurt him, and his reputation. And he did not need further damage. So he listened. Regret seeped into him every single day as he left you alone. He would always watch you from afar though, he loved you, there was no denying.

What occurred that day with Lucy Gray was a mistake, a mistake he wished he could take back more than anything.

Taglist: @valenftcrush @ghostlycrystobalove @esquivelbianca @duds31 @threeinchminimum @shadowsepiphany @novacaneformybrain @crazylokonugget @unclecrunkle @darkqweenn @marihoneywk @beckinator7 @stelleduarte @1950schick @celineandtulips

#fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #lucy gray x coriolanus #the hunger games #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas imagine #tbosas #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #president snow #coriolanus snow angst #young president snow

[radiance1]

So, Ghost Prince Danny. Except that he also, ALSO, is Damian's younger twin brother who was sent to keep an eye on the Fentons because of their discovery of a substance that looked like Lazarus Water yet isn't Lazarus water.

In truth, it was really just Talia's way of getting Danny out of the way because he lost against Damian in the battle of heirs (No Danny did not hold back, Damian was just better than him) and she didn't want him dead so that was the next best thing.

Danny does pop up in the League at odd times, mostly to report about the research done by the Fentons. When he became half dead he's around a lot more, mostly to be monitored for his unique condition (somehow someway they don't know about Vlad) and because Danny can just come and go as he pleases cause ghost powers.

So, Danny gives Damian a flute that he handcrafted himself as a birthday present because really, what can he buy that Damian himself couldn't? Also, because he didn't actually want to spend money on his older brother.

They're brothers, but they don't have the most cordial relationship. They don't hate each other, but they don't like each other either.

So, Damian takes this flute and is like: "Fuck you gimmie this for I don't need this shit."

And then Danny is like: "Just take the gift you stupid ahh fruitloop."

So, Damian takes it while berating that Danny would give him something as stupid as this, but then does a full one 180 by keeping the thing on his person at all times.

Not that Danny knows that, really.

So, cut forth to Damian being known by Batman and taken in. Trying to kill Tim and being an overall little shit, I can see one of the Batfam coming across this flute just, randomly really, and then Damian is fucking pissed that they dared to touch it and then takes it back.

Leaving basically everyone stumped over the significance this random ahh wooden flute has but decides not to touch that landmine.

So then the Batfam don't know that Damian has a half sibling (Danny came from Jack and Talia, so he isn't blood related to Bruce but is to Damian) running around out there and Damian isn't gonna say anything and you already know Talia isn't since Danny AIN'T his kid.

Plus, he got a job to do that being with Bruce Wayne would make harder.

So then Damian becomes robin an allat, then the entire Batfam pull up to the Justice League for some big threat and then both Constantine and Zatanna are like: Yo why do you kid carry round an item drenched heavily in death energy to the extreme

Batman is obviously like: Excuse me?

Damian, meanwhile, just does not give a fuck about the flute given to him by his half-brother on his birthday is apparently drenched in death energy to the extreme because that is his and he isn't going to just give it up.

So then one way or another Damian ends up playing it, maybe he was told to play it by both Batman and Constantine just to make sure it isn't actually anything dangerous or whatever and also because Damian wouldn't let anyone else hold it, let alone play it.

Which Damian smirks at because he's played it before and literally nothing happened aside from very good music, but Damian hasn't played it since he came to the Wayne household and has missed it. So he reminisces over how he got it, thinking of his half-brother and their relationship.

He plays it, but this time, since he genuinely thought about Danny death energy just condenses in waves. Damian couldn't see it since he was too focused on playing and reminiscing, everyone isn't really that calm and tries to get him to stop but the death energy blocks them.

Then a summoning circle appears in front of Damian and Constantine recognizes it as being from the Infinite Realms category and it seemed to be a high-level summon circle too so he's like: Well fuck.

Then, contrary to their expectations of some eldritch abomination, it's just Danny. Who, fun fact, was in the middle of his coronation as prince and such, dripped out in royal wear.

Safe to say, Constatine goes: Well double fuck.

The tension is just broken, as all Danny does is cry. Like, genuinely, he just cries because Damian still kept his flute that he made, he genuinely thought the guy just threw it away since he hated it so much.

Danny: Ancients, my big brother actually liked what I made this is making me emotional.

Damian: Why the hell are you crying this thing is still trash btw.

Danny: Yea whatever you say big bro, you love it.

Batman: What do you mean big brother?

Danny: Who in the hell is that-

Damian: Right, I never told him about you.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #ghost prince danny #demon twins #danny and damian are twins

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bad Faith Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+. Minors, kindly get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Read this over six times but there are probably twenty typos that I'll spot the second I hit post, so. Anyway! Welcome to part two of two!! Thank you for reading 💖

Length: 14.2k

Warnings: Angst; fluff! Huzzah!; Reader’s married surname is Hayward; reader is depressed for swaths of the chapter; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, oral sex, hate sex, safe sex

Summary: Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 

“Ross. Mike Ross.” 

“Cut the Bond schtick.” 

“I’m a contender.” 

“Not a chance. Besides, we’ve been over this; you’re Q at best.” 

“Could do a lot worse than Desmond Llewelyn or Ben Whishaw—Hang on, you think you’re Bond?” 

Harvey stopped, gesturing over his body sweepingly before scoffing, “Please.”

“Please is right,” Mike muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You always go to this thing?” 

“...I’ve been once or twice.” In truth, Harvey hadn’t been to the New York City Estate and Properties gala in years. He hadn’t had occasion or reason; the last time he had, he’d made sure that she wouldn’t be there before he’d agreed. Tonight his purpose was manifold—drink good champagne, eat good food, and warn Hayward off of pursuing his lawsuits against his client’s property. 

His client. It wasn’t as simple as all that, but these days, he’d managed to separate her from the work. It was clinical—and clinical was exactly what he needed. 

“Did you see the menu for dinner? I didn’t see a menu.” 

“Get your fill of canapes. I’m talking to Hayward and then we’re going.” 

“What?” Mike pouted. “But I thought we were staying for the ceremony.” 

“You thought wrong. Keep your eyes peeled. Sooner we get this conversation over, the sooner we can get away from this den of cobras.” 

“Never have a mongoose when you need one.” Mike nodded over Harvey’s shoulder. “Found Mrs. Hayward.” 

“Thought she didn’t like you calling her that.” 

“She doesn’t, but around here, it might be better to use that rather than use her maiden name and have someone ask me who the hell I’m talking about…You gonna talk to her?” 

“What for?” 

“So she at least knows what suit to look for when she wants to avoid you.” 

Harvey’s chastising glare was met with a wide, smug grin. 

“Come on,” Mike groaned. “You haven’t spoken to her in weeks.” 

“And have you considered that that may be why things have been going so smoothly?” 

“Fine—I’ll give you another reason you should say hi to her.” 

“You better make it a good one this time.” 

“Jessica is catching on to the fact that you haven’t touched this case with a ten foot pole.” 

Harvey winced slightly as he swallowed the last of his champagne. 

“Fine,” He grudgingly conceded, setting the empty champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray. “Point me.” 

“She’s at your two o’clock.” 

Harvey turned accordingly, pushed out an annoyed sight—and then felt what breath he had left catch in his throat. 

‘Stunning’ was the first word that came to mind, but in his heart, Harvey knew that it didn’t do her justice. For his lingering, abiding annoyance with her, and with them—with the whole goddamn situation—there were moments when Harvey remembered why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. 

She didn’t want to be there. Harvey didn’t need to ask to know that—it was common sense. But that didn’t stop her from showing her face, from being impeccably dressed, and maintaining what had to be a meticulously constructed poker face. 

“...You do know what staring isn’t talking, right?” 

Mike’s amusement cut into Harvey’s reverie, and he cleared his throat to refocus himself. 

“Keep an eye out for Hayward,” Harvey ordered before he forced himself forward, slowly weaving through the crowd. 

What the hell was he even going to say to her? Hi wasn’t going to cut it; Come here often? Was almost as stupid. How about something about her dress—Whether or not it was new? That had to be safe, neutral ground— 

Harvey had been so focused on what he planned to say that he hadn’t clocked her turning to face him. He chalked it up to panic radar—her hype-sesitivity given the current situation. He stared. She watched. And then—

“Come here often?” 

Damnit. Stupid, sure, but at least it wasn’t hi. 

-- 

“...Annually, at least.”

Was it your imagination, or was Harvey…Nervous? At the very least, he seemed as confused as you were at the fact that he was talking to you. 

“I’m a little surprised that you made a showing,” He admitted. 

“I could say the same for you. Does Jessica have you prospecting clients to get back in the good graces of the real estate department at the firm?” 

Harvey’s eyes narrowed with playful intrigue,and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man that you used to know—the man who gave you that same look when you slipped your panties off and tucked them into his jacket pocket to find later. 

“What did Mike tell you?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing around. 

“Nothing impor—...Tant.” You trailed off, falling still and quiet as your eyes landed on Steven. 

Well, he was hard to miss. 

Standing at 6’3, with a manufactured tan, swimmer’s build, full head of gracefully graying hair, and veneers that made his smile look like a neatly arranged row of chiclets gum, Steven Hayward was the very picture of the kind of health that only wealth could buy. With the stress of the last few weeks, you knew that you weren’t looking your absolute best. You’d had so many sleepless nights; you’d swapped out your favorite catered meals in favor of cheaper alternatives, or dollar slices of pizza, or ramen from the bodega down the block from your apartment, pulled gently from beneath the cat that seemed to always be napping on the exact flavor that you wanted. 

You were certain that Steven lost no sleep over the decision to divorce you, or to pull the rug out from beneath you. You expected him to be in tip-top shape—but you saw hints of his rage as he grew closer. 

“Oh—Hell,” You mumbled, tipping your head toward Harvey. “You might wanna clear out.” 

“You kidding? I’ve got a front row seat to the prize fight of the century.” 

“Target acquired.”

You frowned at the sound of Mike’s voice, but you didn’t turn to look at him as you muttered, “Target?” 

“Darling.” The term of affection oozed past Steven’s bleached-white teeth. He stopped just a couple of steps from you—not near enough to touch, but close enough to see the anger sparkling in his dishwater gray eyes. A pulse of vindication swept through your chest at the tense smile, and the tight pull of his jaw. 

“Steven,” You greeted cordially.

“I’m surprised to see you this evening.” 

“If I had a nickel.” 

“Oh, but you do. Putting all of those properties up for sale, I expect you plan on having more than a few nickels.” 

“What can I say? A girl’s gotta get by.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Have you considered unfreezing our joint account?” 

He chuckled humorlessly. “Anything but that.” 

“Then wire me half.”

“You haven't earned half.” 

It was meant to cut you down and lay you out, but you refused to bow to this man publicly when the other attendees must always hold you in such low regard as it was. 

“I agree,” You offered, and before Steven could preen in his false superiority, you clarified: “I deserve more.” 

Steven bristled, shoulders bunching tight. 

“Perhaps I should just take this evening’s expenses out of that half.” 

You furrowed your brow pointedly, shaking your head. 

“Mmm…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” 

“Really.” 

“Mm…N—...No—?” 

“Perhaps you’ve been so busy hocking your clothes like a dog snuffling for scraps—” Your face flared with embarrassment as Steven pressed on: “But there was meant to be a reception at my penthouse this evening.” 

My penthouse. If it had only been the two of you in that room, you may have slapped him. How had he been able to detach, to force you from his mind and his heart so quickly? Had he ever loved you? Had any man? 

The heat of Harvey’s body suddenly seemed to flare just behind you. 

“Ah!” You nodded sagely, “It’s all coming back to me.” 

“What could have happened there, I wonder?” 

“You must not have taken care.” 

“Of what?” 

Of me. “Of anything.” 

Steven took you in for another long, cruel moment before he jutted his chin over your shoulder. 

“Friends of yours?” 

Ah yes. Your personal legal peanut gallery. You glanced back to confirm their positioning before raising your hand to gesture: 

“This is Mike Ross.” The name seemed to knock something loose in Steven’s mind as he shook Mike’s hand. 

“Ah, Mr. Ross. I saw your name on some documentation this morning.” 

“You’re about to see it a lot more, Mr. Hayward.” 

“And this is Harvey Specter.” 

Your stomach lurched as Steve’s eyes widened slightly, lips curling into a smile. 

“This is Harvey Specter?” He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he proffered his hand. ”I didn’t realize I sent you the worst possible port in this storm.” 

“You didn’t,” Harvey insisted, grasping Steven’s hand firmly. “You sent her to the best.” 

“Try not to drop her this time. My arms aren’t open anymore.” 

Your hands tightened where they were clasped around one another. You forced yourself to keep your gaze set stalwartly on Steven, rather than watch the contentious (and no doubt, painful) handshake that the two of them were sharing. 

“Well,” You chirped. “This was a lovely little catch-up.” 

“Yes,” Harvey chimed in, finally extricating his hand from Steven’s and tucking it into his pocket. “We must do it again sometime. Preferably at a deposition.” 

“Maybe in court,” Mike added. You had to fight down a smile at the sudden swell of support, and a wave of warmth that swept through you. Steven’s eyes narrowed just a touch more before he nodded. 

“I do hope you’ll stay for my speech.” 

“Who’d you have write it for you this time?” You asked. 

“I took a crack at writing it myself.” 

If that was true, it was sure to be a mess and a half. You always had been the one to draft his speeches or remarks—or you paired down any drafts sent over by the agency’s PR department. 

“I look forward to it.” 

Steven gave you one last look before he turned away, slapping on his businessman smile as he went, and raising a hand to signal someone like a politician trying to garner votes. 

“...Why didn’t you mention the forgery charges?” Mike asked. 

“It’s too soon to tip our hand...What table are you sitting at?”

“Thirteen,” You sighed. 

“Lucky number,” Mike muttered. 

“Go change our place cards,” Harvey ordered. “Put us on either side of her.” 

You whirled around to face him, stunned at the tight irritation pinching his features. 

“So we are staying for dinner?” Mike grinned. Harvey blinked flatly at him before reiterating: “Go.” 

You watched Mike duck through the crowd, heading for the dining room.

“Were you not going to stay for dinner?” 

“I’ve gotta eat some time. Come on,” Harvey nudged your arm with his, “Buy me a drink.” 

“It’s an open bar.” 

“Good. Then it won’t break the bank.” 

The press of Harvey’s warm hand to your lower back was far more steadying than it should have been, and it managed to dampen the enraged fire in your belly. 

“How’s that good faith deposit doing, anyway?” 

“I threw 98% of it into an HYSA.” 

“Smart move.” 

“I should’ve made moves like it sooner.” 

“Better late than never.” 

“I guess.” 

“...You don’t have to stay for dinner.” 

“We’re going to.” 

“On either side of me as well, I’m flattered. I wasn’t planning on having guard dogs this evening.” 

“As long as you don’t try to keep us on short leashes.” 

“Depends on whether you plan on doing more barking or biting this evening.” 

“I’ve barked enough for now.” 

“Biting?” 

“If you play your cards right, sure.” 

You didn’t bother to hide your open shock at the blatant implication, but when you looked at Harvey, you found him giving you a surprisingly warm smile. 

“Looks like speaking with Steven has put a little pep in your step, Mr. Specter.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” 

“What did?”

Harvey leaned heavily against the bar, focus set elsewhere as he tried to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“You and I both know that this is going to be a long road. I like a good fight.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“It’s important to me that you’re ready for it, too.” 

You nodded a little. “It may also be prudent for us to keep that fight directed at Steven, and not toward one another.” 

Harvey took the two proffered champagne flutes, passing you one and holding it up to cheers: 

“I’ll drink to that.” 

-- 

It wasn’t perfect right away. You and Harvey still butt heads from time to time. On the purchases that the judges ruled that you were able to move forward with, you disagreed over terms—purchase price, contingencies, negotiations. But the knots unpicked sooner and sooner, and you reached resolutions faster. Mike hardly had to intervene anymore. Harvey gave Jessica status updates openly, and you abidingly ignored the smug, self-satisfied smiles that she gave you as you left her office. 

With the service and tenancy contracts, the two apartment building sales that aren’t mired in paperwork still chugged along slowly. You knew that it was protocol, but it was excruciating. You felt ill every time you got an email from Mike or Harvey, expecting correspondence that spelled disaster. Every little bit of good news only brought marginal relief. 

You spent most of your days in your apartment, packaging clothing or jewelry that you’d sold online. You got your packages sent off by five in the evening, and the rest of your night was your own—though it often ended similarly. Your logical mind often gave over to your emotions in the evening, and you allowed yourself to slip into quiet, depressed oblivion. The methods varied—slurping down two packets worth of dollar-pack ramen, and chasing that with a few bottles of beer as one of your favorite shows played in the background; curling up in your bed and staring at the ceiling at 8 PM, and laying wide awake with your mind racing until the sun came up; hunting through property listings online and plotting a comeback that felt like it would never come.

You never had visitors. Aaron was so entrenched at work that you  only got the odd text from him. Your former friends seemed to have further aligned themselves with Steven after his triumphant speech at the gala—during  which he had gone out of his way to omit any mention of you from his historical record. You had avoided seeing much of Jessica outside of the office, certain that she would council you on a good divorce lawyer, or encourage you to begin dating, or level another lecture about the stupidity with which you had bungled your last marriage.

For as well as you knew she meant, you didn’t have the time or patience—and some little part of you, some stupid, naïve part that knew well enough that the war was already lost, was convinced that Steven would change his mind.

It was unlikely, considering the magnitude of his cruelty over the last couple of months, and further exacerbated by your actions before the gala. Steven would not let you back into his arms, his home, or his heart. You didn’t truly want to be let back into his arms, or his heart, but you missed his home. You had taken such care in the planning, the curation, the furnishing, the upkeep. You were proud of it. You had been happy, and comfortable, and so goddamn foolish.

Now you were tired, and lonely, and you spent so much of your day feeling stupid. 

Sometimes, when the wind blew just a little too hard and rattled the flimsy windows, you let the sound of it cover your sobs against the paper-thin walls that connected you to your neighbor’s apartment (you’d learned just how much sound bled through when you first became privy to your neighbor’s light argument, which had then turned into a full-on shouting match. They’d sounded like they were in the same damn room with you, wall be damned).

It was one such sob session that you managed to hear someone knock on your door. You sniffled, shifting on your bed. You were certain that the sound was from next door, or that you’d misheard the rattle of the window. But when you heard the second, insistent round of knocks, the source couldn’t be mistaken. You sniffled, setting your beer aside onto the bedside table crowded with empties and pushing yourself off of the bed. You swiped haphazardly at the tears on your face as you walked over to it, calling out, “Alright, for fuckssake!” When a third round of knocks rapped against the door.

You threw it open, finally, wincing at the invasive flash of the flickering fluorescent hall light. You weren’t sure what was worse: the flickering, harsh strobe, or Harvey’s stunned confusion.

It may have been a tie.

“…What is it?” You mumbled.

“Have you been crying?”

“Little bit.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Getting there.”

“…Get dressed.”

“What?”

“Get dressed,” Harvey insisted, nodding over your shoulder. “We’re going out.”

“Harvey, I’m really not in the mood,” You sniffled.

“We won’t go far.”

“Then why are we going at all?”

Harvey opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a sudden crash! and the swell of yelling voices from next door. His eyes darted toward it before he nodded.

“I’m not listening to that all night.”

“Who the hell says you’re going to be here more than five minutes?”

Your heart stuttered as Harvey’s hands planted firmly on your hips, steering you back into your studio before he nudged the door shut with his foot.

“Get dressed. And hurry up.”

You weren’t sure what it was—his touch, his firm insistence, or your own distaste for your screaming neighbors—but you turned around and began dutifully rifling through one of your remaining trash bags of clothing.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a diner around the corner.”

“A diner? How down heel of you, Mr. Specter.”

“I can appreciate the simple things.”

You snorted, straightening with a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Since when.” You glanced guardedly toward him before you nodded him toward the door. “Turn around.”

--  

“You can afford better than that place, you know.” 

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you shoved a handful of cheese fries in your mouth and leaned back to chew with laborious slowness. You expected Harvey to fill the silence, but he didn’t. He just watched, and waited, and stared at you until you swallowed. You nudged the plate toward him, offering: “Want one?” 

 You avoided his openly chastising gaze, tired of the fact that it was the only look you get from most of the lawyers in your life these days. 

“You have that good faith deposit.” 

“I told you where it went.” 

“The brownstone payment is on the edge of clearing escrow. Look for somewhere else to live.” 

“Not yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s not a good idea.” 

“Steven isn’t going to weasel into every potential deal and hold it up.” 

“Forgive me for my skepticism, but I don’t exactly have many friends in this city anymore.” 

“...Are you planning on going somewhere else?” 

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind. There were cities here you could rebuild your life and your practices, places where you were sure Steven wouldn’t bother to try and strike down your attempts to rebuild your life. 

“Maybe,” You admitted. “I liked Cambridge.” 

Harvey’s lips twitched with a gentle, regretful smile. It was his turn to reach out and swipe a few fries and chow down. 

“Realty up there is pricey,” You added. “Could make a polite killing on student housing.” 

“How does one make a polite killing?” 

“Decent rent and coin-operated laundry. Maybe some paid parking, a few overpriced but conveniently placed vending machines.” 

“Redbull?” 

“I was just thinking about snacks, but you know what, Redbull isn’t a bad idea.” You reached out, picking up a fry and drawing it through the splodge of ketchup remaining at the edge of the plate. “Why did you come over?” 

“I wanted to let you know that the inspections are finished.” 

“On which?” 

“The properties that you didn’t know about.” 

“Anything stand out?” 

“A foundational issue on one of the apartment buildings, but it doesn’t cost enough that it should’ve stopped work.” 

“What about the others?” 

“Nothing that popped as catastrophic.” 

“You have the print-outs?” 

“In my car.” 

“Why are they in there?” 

“I was going to offer to take you for a drink, but you seemed to beat me to it.” 

You scoffed, shifting in your seat. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, Specter.” 

“You do that often?” 

“What, drink?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you accusing me of having a problem?” 

“I’m asking if you do that often.” 

“Once in a while.” 

“New for you?” 

“Relatively.” 

Harvey eyed you critically for a few moments before he nodded. “Call me the next time you want to have a drink.” 

“So you can talk me out of it?” 

“So you at least don’t do it alone.”

“I’m usually not in a talking mood when it happens.” 

“We don’t have to talk.” 

“Oh, please. As if you don’t love the sound of your own voice.” 

“Call me anyway.” 

You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “You know, the thought of you dropping by may just be an effective suppressant.” 

Harvey’s smile widened a little. “Do you want to put the other houses on the market?” 

“I want to walk through the apartment buildings myself before I go through them.” 

“What about the ones in the Hamptons and the Cape?” 

“I’ll drive up.” 

“And Gstaad?” 

“A little trickier.” 

“Could bill it.” 

“I doubt it.” 

“You could, under discovery.” 

“This would not be covered under discovery.” 

“How would you know that?” 

“I’m sorry, remind me who used to quiz you for the bar?” 

Harvey scoffed softly, averting his gaze to the diner counter. “Well, this may surprise you, but a few laws have changed since then.” 

“And this may surprise you, but not only am I aware of that, I’ve also been pretty deeply entwined with lawyers since then. So I’m pretty comfortable making that assertion.” 

“And this? You think I’m not billing for this?” 

“Oh, I hope you are. I hope you bill for every second that it took you to walk up the steps to my apartment. I want Jessica to pay for my cheese fries. You know why?” 

“Because it would kill her?”

“It would drive her nuts.” 

“I can’t wait to give her the itemized total.” 

“I await the enraged phone call.” 

-- 

“You don’t have to walk me back up, you know."

“Sure I do. Gotta work off those fries. Besides, I’m billing for this until I officially drop you off.” 

You rolled your eyes, nudging Harvey’s shoulder with yours. Your depressed, tear-ridden, sobbing buzz had worn off over the course of dinner, and you didn’t think that the mood would creep back in once you were alone again. 

“I’ll walk through the apartment buildings tomorrow and see if I can get up to the Cape at some point in the next couple of weeks. The pictures and notes from the inspection look promising. If I dip into the good faith deposit, maybe I could get the Cape Cod house fixed up and sold before the summer.” 

“Or you could keep it as a rental property.” 

“Mm.” “You always liked the Cape in the winter…For some reason.” 

“I kinda like when it’s all grey and gloomy…and quiet.” 

“Be a good base for your Cambridge operation.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckled. “It’s not even close. The red line doesn’t exactly go all the way to Hyannis.” 

The two of you slowed as you neared your landing, listening closely. 

“...Think the coast is clear?” Harvey murmured. 

“For now, at least.” You fished into your pocket for your keys. “Thanks for dinner.” 

“Sure. Remember what I said.” 

“I will.” 

“Call me if you need anything.” 

Anything. That was new. You nodded, gaze set on your keys as he turned to go back downstairs. 

“...Harvey?” 

“Yeah?” He stopped just a few steps away, and you had to scrounge up your courage to turn and look at him again. 

“I don’t, um…” You swallowed thickly. “I’m gonna wanna talk about it.” You watched Harvey’s face shift with grim understanding. 

“I don’t want to litigate that.” 

“Isn’t that your job?” 

“Not like this.” 

“Not tonight,” You reiterated, “But…Sometime. Please.” 

Harvey’s jaw went tight, but he gave you a short, firm nod before he turned away. You watched him round the corner, and listened until his footsteps faded and the front door opened downstairs. 

--  

The apartment buildings weren’t anything special. Stripped of most of their insulation, and with several of the windows already removed, the wind that pushed through them made the buildings sound like they were breathing. It was eerie, and chilly. You tightened your coat around yourself as you went from floor to floor, eyeing damaged pipes, areas where someone seems to have come in and rooted around for copper wiring, and the billowing plastic that marks off some doors that have been removed. 

The paperwork on this building listed the purchase date as nearly a year ago. 

A year ago, you and Steven had been discussing expanding your current operations. Maybe he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. Maybe he’d bought you the buildings as a present and stopped work when things turned sour…Whenever that had been. 

There had been signs, sure, but Steven always had been temperamental. 

You pushed the thought away as you drew in a deep breath, turning toward the stairs. It wouldn’t do to overthink this just now. If needed, you could panic looking at the Hamptons, or Cape Cod…Or Gstaad, if you ever found a way to get to Gstaad. 

You reached into your pocket as your phone buzzed, drawing it out to find an incoming call. You groaned, stomping your foot petulantly before you raised it to your ear. 

“Jessica, I’m a little busy—” 

“I need you to come into the office.” 

Your fingers tightened around your phone as your palm began to sweat. 

“What happened?” 

“I’d rather discuss this in person.” “Jessica.” 

“Come to the office.” 

She hung up without another word. You swallowed thickly, lowering your phone and watching her call blink and then disappear. If she wasn’t willing to discuss it over the phone, whatever it was had to be very, very bad. 

-- 

“Cheese fries?” 

“Jessica,” You groaned, “Come on, there is no way that that’s why you called me here.” 

“No, it isn’t. But I’d like to remind you that you should remain fighting fit and cheese fries are not the way to do it.” 

“My life has fallen apart and dipped into a moderately humiliating place. I think I’m allowed to have a few cheese fries. Why did you tell me to come in.” 

“I have someone that I would like you to meet.” 

“I’m not going to start dating anyone now.” 

“Well, we can attack that another time. This is for your defense.” 

“Harvey’s on that.” 

“Your divorce.” 

“You know that I can’t afford a defense right now.” 

“I don’t mind getting a start while you get the pieces in place.” 

The man’s voice caught you off-guard, and you turned to find a man leaning in the doorway. Your brow furrowed a touch as you took him in—the long lean of his body, the neatly fitted charcoal suit and sky-blue tie, the curl of his dark hair, the twinkle of his warm chestnut eyes, and his small, intrigued smile. 

“Well that’s very kind of you, whoever the hell you are, but I don’t exactly have anything on the board right now.” 

“The fact that you even have a board is encouraging.” 

“...This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.” 

“This,” Jessica stepped past you to gesture the man deeper into the room, “Is David Alford.” 

“Alford?” You repeated. “Like the plea?” 

“No relation. What would you know about an Alford plea?” 

“I know of it.” 

“How’s that?” 

“Well, I used to date a lawyer.” 

“Lucky guy.” 

“I don’t think he’d agree with you, as evidenced by the fact that he is no longer my boyfriend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

You shook his hand lightly, still wary from the ambush. 

“Look, Mr. Alford—” 

“David, please.” 

“—I don’t know what Jessica’s told you about my situation—” 

“She didn’t have to tell me much. Forgive my bluntness, but your name has come up in our circles over the last couple of weeks.” 

“Well, forgive my bluntness, but it’s not my circle anymore.” 

“It could be again.” 

“Are you going to get me a circle back in the divorce?” 

“I’m gonna get you whatever the hell you want in your divorce.” 

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, unable to help yourself. 

“O-kay,” You lowered your hand. 

“Why don’t I see what we can do about getting some coffee,” Jessica offered. “You two talk.” 

Your brows furrowed as she waved the two of you more deeply inside. Jessica, at least pretending to get coffee? Damn, she really did want the two of you to talk. You gave David a polite smile as you lowered yourself to sit.

“I’m sorry she dragged you in here.” 

“Wasn’t much of a drag. My office is a block away.” 

“Well, then I’m glad you haven’t come far for nothing.” 

“Nothing?” His brows jumped as he sat beside you. “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m not currently looking for a divorce lawyer.” 

“You need one.” 

“That is beyond the point, Mr—” 

“David.” 

“...Mister David,” You bit out pointedly, and fought back a wave of annoyance at his amused smile. “I’m not sure how much Jessica has told you, but there are a lot of things up in the air right now. I’ve socked away some money for my defense, but not enough.” 

“How would you know what’s enough?” 

“...Let’s pretend that I don’t know anything about the law, or the legal quagmire that I’ve gotten myself into. Let’s pretend that all I know about my soon to be ex-husband’s business is that he has a lot more money than I do. The two of us went into our marriage with about 600 bucks and a dream held together with tape and spit. I have watched, and I have helped my husband build up his business for the last eleven years. I have signed contracts, I have signed purchase orders, I have signed mortgages, I have signed deeds. Even if I wasn’t paying attention to what I was signing, I would know that Steven has amassed a lot of cash, a massive legal team, as well as a significant number of holdings—in both our names. He has a lot of power in this equation, and I do not. Whatever comes down the pike, it is going to be a protracted legal battle. If I was optimistic, I would figure that this would take about a year, but I’m not, and I know that it could take a few.”  

David’s dark eyes darted fascinatedly across your face before he offered: “But you do know a lot about Mr. Hayward’s business.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Because it was your business, too.” 

You averted your gaze from him as that washed over you. His acknowledgement made your heart knock hollowly against your ribs, and it took all of your strength not to slouch dejectedly in your chair. 

“...Yes,” You agreed. “It was.” “I understand that you’re discouraged. I would be, too, a lot of women are in your position.” 

“Exactly what position is that, Mister David.” 

His smile flattened with nerves, and he let out a huffed, joyless laugh. 

“I mean, having been served—” 

“A piping-hot plate of out on my ass?” 

“If that’s what you’d like to call it—”

“I call it that because that’s what it is, not because I like it that way.”

“I understand. Look,” David shifted in his seat, twisting to face you a little more. “I think that regardless of when you get your pieces in place, you have a real case here. I think I can get you half.” 

If you had a touch less decorum, you would have jumped out of your seat and screamed—both from the excitement, and the certainty that David Alford was out of his mind. Instead, you blinked twice, and once you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, asked:

“Half?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“There is no way.” 

“You’d be surprised.” 

“I don’t think I would, because I’m almost certain that’s impossible.” 

“Well, it certainly would be before.” 

“What exactly has changed?” 

“You didn’t know me. You do now.” 

You smiled in spite of yourself at the brash, almost fearless way that he said it. As skeptical as you were, you knew that this was exactly what you needed: someone as bold, confident, and fearless as—

“What a cozy little conference this is.” 

You turned back at the sound of Harvey’s voice, smiling a little. “Looking to join the fun?” 

“If I can hazard a guess at Jessica’s matchmaking, Alford is the one joining the fun.” 

“Specter,” David greeted, pushing himself out of his seat. “Haven’t seen you at the squash courts recently.” 

“I’ve been trolling the back nine,” Harvey offered, shaking David’s hand. “Nice to see you, Pleas and thank you.” 

Your brow furrowed at the term. “What?” 

“It’s what some of the guys at the club call me. You know, my name—” 

“Alford pleas and thank you.” You scrubbed your hand across your brow. “God, that’s dumb.” 

“We can’t all be queens of quip.” 

“You poor things,” You shot back scathingly. Harvey shot you a wink before turning back to David. 

“So, David, whaddaya say?” Harvey plied. “You filling the gap?” 

“Yeah, I’d love to fill ‘er in.” 

You didn’t miss his innuendo, nor the speculative, open, sweeping gaze that David leveled at you. Your brows inched toward your hairline, stunned at his brazenness. Surely you hadn’t seen it right—

“Coffee?” 

Your focus was broken at the sound of Jessica’s voice, and the sight of a coffee tray being wheeled in behind her. You let yourself be busied by it. You focused on your coffee, made it the way you liked, and let Jessica and David and Harvey talk about what you could reasonably expect out of the divorce battle. 

Reasonably, as if this entire situation hadn’t been insanely unreasonable. 

But you let yourself sit, and listen, and save your speculation for the train ride home. 

You must’ve read his look wrong, or misunderstood. He didn’t mean it like that. 

And even if he did, finding that look intriguing was incredibly appropriate. But it didn’t matter! Because he didn’t mean it like that. 

…And even if he did, it was probably just something that he tried to bring you on board. But it didn’t matter, because he did not mean it like that. 

…

Though if he did, it really wouldn’t matter, because it would be grounds for him to be disbarred. Nothing was going to happen…Even if you did find him attractive, and found his blunt approach and self-assured nature very, very hot. 

But you were not going to fuck him.

--  

“Don’t fuck him.” 

You had expected the warning to come from Jessica, but to hear it from Harvey of all goddamn people made you gape at him in shock. He just gave you a knowing look before he turned back toward the beer that he was opening. 

Your urge to have a drink that evening hadn’t been strong, but it had been there, and it had made you think of Harvey’s offer from the day before. You hadn’t expected such a quick response to your simple text of ‘Beer?’, but he had turned up a mere half hour later, a fresh six pack in hand. He had shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on to your bed, and walked over to your kitchenette—where he proceeded to say the most heinous thing.

“Excuse me?” You finally managed. 

“You heard me.” 

“I don’t think I did, actually, not properly, because it sounded like you just gave me an order that you had no business giving.” 

“I have plenty of business.” 

“No—” 

“Don’t—” 

“No no no, you do not, not here, and not like that.” 

“I’m just saying,” Harvey turned from the counter, planting his hand on the cruddy formica, “That I know—” 

“Do not say that you know me.” 

His expression darkened, and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “I know him.” 

“...He has to be good, or Jessica wouldn’t have pulled him on to my case.” 

“He’s a good lawyer, but he’s a scuzzy asshole.” 

“I know the type.” 

“You think I’m a scuzzy asshole?” 

Your gut dropped at the hint of anger seeping into his tone. 

“I meant Steven.” 

Harvey turned away, hand curling into a fist and knocking lightly on the counter. 

“Just…Be careful with him.” 

“You are the last person that has any right to lecture me on the care that I ought to take with the men in my life.”

“I’m not lecturing you—” 

“No, you’re warning me off, like a little kid that’s playing too close to an electric fence.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Fine by me, as long as you don’t fuck David.” “Alright, you know what,” You pushed off of your bed, striding over to your door. “Get out.” 

“We’re not done talking about this.” 

“Yes, we are. Get out.” 

“We’re not done until—” 

“We’re done when I say we’re done!” You began to yank your door open. Harvey was across your small space in a moment, palm flat against the door as he shoved it shut behind you. 

“And what the hell gives you the right to decide that?” 

“Because it’s my turn!” You barked. “I get to decide when we’re done now.” 

“It stopped being your turn when you stormed out of my office.” 

“Then make the damn decision yourself and get the fuck out of my apartment!” 

“If you want to ruin that man’s career and your chances of getting anything that you want out of your divorce, you go right ahead.” 

“I am not going to fuck him, and I’m not going to get him disbarred, you ass.” 

“Good.” 

“And I deeply resent the implication that I’m so sex-starved and desperate that I’m willing to fuck anyone who gives me any goddamn attention.” 

“I did not—” 

“Yes, you did, you did the second you opened your mouth. By rights, if that’s your view of me, I should’ve tried to not only fuck Mike, but you, of all people.” 

“I never implied that you were sex starved, but if you were, you could do a lot worse than Mike—” 

“Oh, really—” 

“And a helluva lot worse than me.” 

“Oh, please! There is no way that I could do worse than you. There are dictators that I’d sooner fall into bed with.” 

“If all you’re cutting out is the bed, I can work with the rest.” 

You could’ve slapped him. He was close enough, and you could just imagine it—the way the flush of red would look spreading across his cheek. 

“What makes you think I’d ever allow you anywhere near me again, Specter?” 

“I’m pretty damn close now.” He shifted closer, stopping as the tips of his shoes brushed your socked feet.

“Against your better judgment.” 

“You want to put me in my place, sweetheart, you go right ahead.” 

“Don't call me that.” 

“Why not.” 

“Don’t you dare call me that.” 

“Give me a good reason not to.” 

“You haven’t earned it back.” 

“Any idea of how I might do that?” 

You bit him. You grasped his tie, tugged him in, and sank your teeth into his lower lip. You expected an argument, but Harvey just groaned, grasping you by the hips and shoving you back against the door. You released his lip, groaning as he swept his tongue into your mouth. Your hand unwound from his tie, breath leaving you in harsh puffs as Harvey’s smearing kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck. You arched up into his touch as his hands slipped under your t-shirt, palming and squeezing whatever skin he could reach. You reached down, hands fumbling with nerves and heat as you worked off his belt. 

Every time your mind began to race, Harvey managed to quiet it, with his teasing tongue, and nipping teeth, and grasping fingers. For all of his big talk about getting David disbarred, Harvey suddenly seemed to not give a damn about his own career—

You whined as Harvey yanked down the cup of your bra, knuckles toying with your pebbling nipple. You palmed his hardening cock through the soft fabric of his trousers, thrilling in his moan, and the press of his hips up against your touch. His fingers snaked beneath the band of your sweatpants, sweeping against your clit before swiping slower. 

“You’re already so goddamn wet,” He growled, easing a finger into you. You pressed into his touch, gritting your teeth as he goaded: “You like pissing me off this much?” 

“Condom?”

“Left pocket.” 

You reached into his pocket, brushing against his cock as you drew out the foil packet. Why wasn’t it tucked somewhere discreet, like his wallet? You pushed the thought away as you ripped the foil packet open with your teeth. Harvey let go of you just long enough to shove his pants down around his thighs, then push your sweatpants. 

“Turn around.” 

You passed him the condom before doing as you were told, leaning heavily against the door. You expected a stretch, but slick heat pressed between your spread thighs. Your mouth dropped open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut as Harvey lapped and laved your slick, heated skin. You reached back, fingers scrabbling to grasp the neat coif of his hair. 

“Harvey, damnit,” You gasped. “Just fuck me already.” 

He groaned in dissent, giving your lips one more sucking kiss before straightening fully. You felt one palm smooth over to your thigh, and saw the other rest against the door as he eased into you. Your lips parted with a gentle whine at the pleasurable throb of his cock stretching you. You planted your hand on the door beside his, steadying yourself as you adjusted.

He didn’t give you long. Harvey drew back before his hips snapped sharply. You pressed your cheek to the door, skin growing clammy between the flimsy particleboard and the hot panting of your breath. The harsh slam of his hips forced your body uncomfortably against the door. You let your eyes slide closed as Harvey’s hands covered yours, drawing them just above your head as he intertwined your fingers. The door rattled in the frame with each thrust. You whimpered as Harvey pressed his face into your neck, felt his hot breath and the rumble of his groans against your skin. 

Your thighs ached, and your heart pounded, and your cunt throbbed, and goddamn it felt so fucking good. 

The swell of your orgasm rose and crested sharply, and you didn’t bother to hide the shuddering of your moan, your grip tightening on Harvey's hands. He followed close behind, hips pounding and juddering before he slowed. The two of you stood still for a few long moments, listening to one another’s panting and coming down. Harvey carefully extricated your hands from yours, drawing away and leaving you half-bare and chilly against the door.

“...I need a beer,” Harvey muttered, voice hoarse.

“You left one on the counter.” 

“You want one?” 

“Yeah.” 

You reach down, tugging up your sweatpants as you gently peel yourself back from the door. 

“It’s probably going to be lukewarm,” Harvey warned.

“I don’t care.” You drew in a shaky breath as you walked back toward your bed. You’d already sworn that you wouldn’t let him into it. You lowered yourself to sit beside it, looking at the door as the swirl of confused thoughts shifted back to the fore. You watched Harvey tie off the condom and drop it into your trash bin. You tracked his movement—from cleaning up, to doing up his pants, to washing his hands. You didn’t bother to hide your open speculation as he opened another beer, then took the two up. You drew your legs together, biting your lip as your slick cunt pulsed.

Harvey lowered himself to sit beside you, holding a beer out and lightly knocking his against yours before you each took a drink. You winced a little at the taste. You should’ve listened to him—the taste of lukewarm beer was not appetizing. You saw Harvey reach up out of the corner of your eye as he loosened his tie. 

“...What was that about getting someone disbarred?” 

“Shuddup.” There was no heat to how he said it, and that was probably why it made you snort a laugh. 

“Harvey?” 

“What.” 

“Did you come over planning to fuck me?” 

“What?” 

“Why was there a condom in your pocket?” 

“I had a date.” 

Your brow furrowed as you took that in. 

“...When?”

“Tonight.” 

“Why aren’t you there?” 

“Because I’m here.” 

Harvey Specter broke a date. Harvey Specter broke a date for you. You leaned back against the bed again, biting the inside of your cheek to quell a wide grin. 

“Don’t read into it,” He added. 

“I’m not reading into anything…Apart from the fact that you seemed pretty sure you were going to get laid.” 

“I was.” 

“Arrange for that, did you?” 

“No need to arrange anything. I’m just good like that.” 

“Well. Can’t argue with that. For the record—” 

“What.” 

“You really have no say over who I do and don’t fuck.” 

“I know.” 

“Good.” 

“...You going to the Hamptons next weekend?” 

“Yeah.” “How are you getting up there?” 

“I was going to take the train.”

“I could give you a ride.” 

“You already have.” You cast Harvey a knowing smile, grin widening as he shot you a sidelong, unimpressed glance. Your smile turned to giggles as Harvey seemed to smile in spite of himself. 

“You really think we could stand to be in the car with one another for more than twenty minutes?” You prodded. 

“If not, we could always pull over and work out our differences.” 

“Pfft. No other weekend plans?” 

“Nope.” 

“Didn’t promise a rain check?” 

“Didn’t specify when it might happen.” 

“Mm. And why would you want to come with me?” 

“Steven could be watching those properties, waiting for you to turn up. You could benefit from having back up.” 

“You make it sound terribly sinister. Have you figured out how to bill Gstaad yet?” 

“I’m working on it.”

“Keep me updated.” 

“Sure.” 

“I don’t mean for, you know—I don’t want a vacation.”

“You’ve earned one.” 

“Whatever, I just don’t like to put something on the market without doing a walk-through myself.” 

“I understand.” 

You leaned back against the bed a little more heavily, gaze wandering toward the door, where a little bit of your makeup was smeared from the press of your cheek. 

“...Harvey?”

“Mm?” 

“Can we talk about it?” 

“The sex or the other thing?” 

“The other thing.” 

“I’ve already had one fight with you today. I don’t think I have the capacity for two...Do you?”

You shook your head. 

“Some other time,” He promised. 

“Sure.” 

-- 

You had seen the paperwork and the inspector’s notes, but to see the house in the Hamptons was a whole other story. The long gravel driveway was lined with a horse fence on the left, and a plain wood fence on the right. You didn’t bother to hide your open, stunned stares as you passed the stables. It was hardly the first time you’d seen a home like it, but it was unfathomable that Steven seemed to have not only put the house in your name, but completely forgotten about it. 

Harvey pulled the car into the neatly manicured lot. 

“Do you want to start in the stables, the house, the pool, the tennis court…?” He shut the car off, waiting for your reply. You shook your head. 

“I only care about the house,” You admitted. 

“So we won’t be walking the expansive lawns? I brought my sneakers.” 

“Do I even want to know how expensive those sneakers are?” 

“They’re worth more than your apartment.” 

“I’m willing to believe that.” You climbed out of the car, eyeing the inspector’s report as you rounded toward the front steps. You turned from the paperwork to take in the house’s appearance more clearly. It was…Ugly. The large, L-shaped, gray-brick building had the modernistic development of the fast-casual apartment buildings in the city, with some of the gauche touches of your penthouse, like the expansive floor-to-ceiling covering nearly the entirety of the bottom of the floor. You could see a balcony on the left side of the house, and another around the other end of the L. 

“...This is different.” 

“It’s criminal,” You muttered. 

“Are you saying that because he forged your signature, or because it’s ugly as sin?” 

“Both. Come on.” 

You walked up to the front door, punching in the code that the realtor had given you to get the door open. 

The foyer was as flat and uninspired as the outside of the house—white marble floors, grey walls, and sterling silver furnishings. You grimaced as you looked around. 

“Are we doing a complete walk through of this millennial grey gulag?”

“If you’re going to hate it, you can wait in the car,” You offered, glancing toward Harvey. “Apparently there are fifteen bedrooms and nine bathrooms, and I don’t know how much of your cute commentary I can deal with today.” 

“Seemed to handle it fine in the car.” Harvey turned left before you could say or do anything else, and you followed him, looking down at the property’s map. 

“This place oughta have one of those fricking mall maps with a star labeled ‘You Are Here’,” You grumbled. 

“Now who’s making cute comments.” 

– 

“My feet hurt,” You groaned, plopping onto a boxy, stiff-cushioned couch. 

“You’d think after the last couple of months of living in that walk-up, you’d be in better shape.”

“You’d think.”

“It’s all those cheese fries.”

“Oh—shut up.” 

“So, what do you think?”

“I think we throw it on the market for 18 million and I forget that it ever existed.”

“Why list it in your name, though?”

You shrugged, looking around. “Maybe it was in both our names when he bought it and the outcome was such a disaster he decided to leave my name on it. I think he designed it.”

“Really?” Harvey’s brows rose as he looked around. 

“Oh, god yeah. Steven can be smart, but he’s never really had any design sense. I wound up taking charge on some of our early flip projects because he just didn’t have the eye for it. He always tried, but I kinda wound up following behind and fixing his messes. If I had to guess, he bought this place to show me that he really could do it, and he just…Can’t.”

“Do you think Cape Cod and Gstaad will be the same?” 

“Doubtful. The report for Cape Cod said that the house was originally built in 1950…what. Four?”

“Something like that.” 

“It looks like he gutted it like he did the apartment buildings and realized how much of a project it would be. Gave up on it.” 

“And Gstaad?” 

“Work out how to expense the trip and we can talk.”

Harvey chuckled, wandering closer. “Should we christen it?”

“Christen what?”

“This house.”

“How?”

Harvey’s brows waggled salaciously, and you laughed, pushing yourself off of the couch. “Oh no, Specter. No way—”

“Why not?”

“You wanna christen every room? You don’t have the stamina for that—And I don’t have the patience.” 

“What about just in here?” He curled his arm around your waist, drawing you closer. “On that stupid couch, over the piano…How about up against the windows?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “There’s no one around for miles.” 

You rolled your eyes despite your amusement. 

“If you said that with the Kubrick stare, I’d think you were going all Jack Torrence on me.”

“Heeeeeeeere’s Harvey.”

“Ugh! God, let’s just go,” You pushed out of Harvey’s arms, heading for the door. “It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.” 

“The house can’t be haunted, he’s not dead.” 

“He is to me.”

–

“When are you planning on going to Cape Cod?” 

“Mm…Probably next week.”

“Driving up?”

“Taking the train.”

“Again with the train.” 

“I don’t have a car and I’m not going to rent one.”

“Are you staying overnight?”

“No.”

“You’re going to go up and back on the train in one day? That is a long day.”

“I can handle it.” 

“You’d be more comfortable in a car.” 

“Yeah, obviously—Eyes on the road, Specter.” You reached out, poking his cheek as he glanced over at you. He batted your hand away lazily before turning back to the road. 

“Why do you always insist on doing things in the most difficult way possible?”

“Because in most cases, the most difficult choice is also the most cost-effective. Efficiencies can be cruel, Harvey.”

“Cruel is an understatement.” 

“I can handle a day on the train.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so, thank you.” 

“Stubborn.” 

“...Do you wanna come up when we get back to my place?”

“What for?” 

You tipped your head to the side, waiting for Harvey to glance over before you teasingly waggled your brows.

“Oh, so now you want to?” 

“I wanted to then! But I couldn’t do it if I felt Steven looming over me. C’mon, Specter,” You reached out, gently teasing your nails along the back of his neck, and grinning as he shifted slightly in his seat. “See if you can get me any more out of breath than walking up six flights of stairs.” 

--  

“Hey, there you are! Jessica needs to—What’s that face for?” Mike’s concern fell away at the sight of Harvey’s self-satisfied smile as he stepped off of the elevator. Harvey gave a dismissive shrug. What the hell was he going to tell Mike? That he’d spent the weekend somewhere other than his place? That he had fallen asleep with her, and remembered how serene it used to be to wake up with her? That they’d hardly left her cruddy apartment—hell, they’d hardly left her bed? 

“Nothing. What were you saying?” 

“Jessica needs to see you.” 

“Right now?” 

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Jessica step out from around the corner, drawing him up short. 

“Yes,” She insisted firmly. “Right now.” 

Harvey had the strange sense of a child being marched to the principal as she led her way to her office. She shut the door behind the two of them, striding past him to her desk. 

“Can this wait?” Harvey hedged. “I’ve got coffee going cold on my desk.” 

“Well then, I’ll make this quick. Did you have a nice time this weekend?"

That should've been his warning. It was a solid leading question, and one that, on any other Monday, he would not have hesitated to answer. His eyes narrowed slightly, before he decided—Yes, she must have known that he drove to the Hamptons. Someone would have told Jessica: Mike was still in the habit of offering updates when he thought they would be helpful.

"Yes," He finally answered.

"Was it a productive trip?"

A second warning. Jessica was a strategist, and Harvey knew that any lawyer worth a damn didn't ask a question that they didn't already know the answer to. Still, he chose a carefully middle-of-the-road answer:

"She was happy to go through the home herself, set a listing price. Hopefully we can get it on the market and on its way as soon as possible.”

Jessica took that in thoughtfully, lips set in a placid smile.

"Were there any outstanding features?"

A third and final warning, but Harvey couldn't help but lean into it:

"Are we talking about the tennis court, the pool, the stables, or the thousand lawns?"

Jessica let out a tepid, flatly amused, "Hm," Before beckoning him closer. "Well if those all caught your eye, it would explain why you missed the cameras."

Harvey froze in his step, blood running cold. There was no way—Cameras? His gaze dropped to the laptop that she turned to face him. The black and white footage was grainy, but clear enough. Harvey watched as he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his chest. He could still feel the heat of her body, and the plush slide of her sweater beneath his fingers. He could see the gentle, adoring way that she gazed up at him before she nudged him away, leading the charge out of the house. 

‘It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.’ He didn’t know how, but she had felt it. 

"Where did that come from."

"I'll give you three guesses."

"Let me explain—"

"Explain what!" Jessica slammed the laptop closed, rounding the desk with self-righteous strides. "Explain what idiotic idea led to you putting on a show?"

"We didn't know that there were cameras."

"How long has this been going on?"

"We only went to see that one house."

Jessica's expression darkened as she shook her head.

"Don't play dumb with me, Harvey," She warned lowly. "How long have you been sleeping with her."

It hit him low in the gut. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.

"She told you?"

"No, she didn't tell me. She didn't have to. It'll be plain as day to anyone who sees that footage."

"That’s not true, we were just—"

"Just what?"

"I was teasing her! It didn't mean anything."

"If I call and ask her, she'll say the same thing?"

He was certain of it. "Yes."

"Would she swear to it under oath? At a deposition? In court?"

His surety faltered, and his mouth worked wordlessly before he pursed his lips tightly. Jessica shook her head again.

"I am not the only one with access to this. Luckily for you—for both of you—she still has a friend or two on the inside. Aaron Delaney sent this to me before he deleted the original. He works closely with Steven, and has access to a few property accounts. He got an alert on his phone that someone had used the keypad to open the door."

"Has Steven seen it?"

"He isn't sure, but I'm not willing to take that chance. Louis will be taking over the Hayward case, and Mike will be assisting him."

"No, Jessica, that's not happening."

"It is, because I'm telling you that it is. You should be relieved. You never wanted it in the first place."

"Things are different now."

"You're damn right they are! What the hell were you thinking? Both of you?"

"Let me see this case through."

"If you see this through and Hayward does have access to this footage, you could be disbarred. You're going to hand the files over to Louis by the end of the day. He is expecting them. Mike will bring him up to speed and assist him until this mess is cleared up."

Harvey lowered his gaze to the floor as Jessica stepped around him, opening the door and waiting beside it. He curled his hands into fists in his pockets as he strode resignedly from the office.

"And so help you," Jessica warned as he passed, "If I hear that you are holding Louis up in any way."

Harvey only made it a few feet from the office before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hurriedly dialing her number. It rang once...Twice...Three times...And went to voicemail.

"Damnit," He hissed, lowering the phone to redial. "C'mon, c'mon..." It rang once, "Pick up." Twice...

"Hey you."

"Where are you?"

"What do you mean?" She laughed, "I'm on my way to see Jessica for our check-in."

Fuck.

"How close are you?"

"I just got off of the elevator. Why?"

Harvey whirled around, eyes desperately searching for her through the gaggle of associates, paralegals, and lawyers going about their business.

"She knows."

"What?"

He could hear her frown. Harvey took three steps toward the elevator bay before he saw her come into view—and lock eyes with Jessica. He saw her body go tense, before her shoulders sagged with dejection.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hell," She sighed before hanging up.

--

"I'm not going to even begin to approach what you may have been thinking—"

"Jessica—"

"—Putting not only your future, Harvey’s future, and the future of this firm in jeopardy."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly."

"We didn't even do anything at the house!"

"That doesn't make the slightest bit of difference."

You slid down in your seat as Jessica paced in front of you, her pace and turn reminiscent of a caged tiger.

"I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?" She finally stilled, nailing you with a cold gaze. You folded further under the crush of her look, so similar to the disbelief that she had leveled you with at her apartment not too long ago.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Jessica strode around her desk. "Your case has been reassigned to Louis Litt. Mike will stay on, provided you haven't fucked him, too."

Christ. "I made a mistake, alright? I told you I was sorry, and I meant it," You insisted. "Don't bring Mike into this when he hasn't done anything wrong."

Jessica bristled as she lowered herself into her seat.

"I don't want you associating with Harvey until this is over."

"Oh—Come on."

"If this footage were to come out, Harvey's conduct and ethics will be called into question. He'll be dragged into your divorce proceedings. Is that what you want?"

Your stomach churned uneasily as you considered it. You knew she was right. You shook your head a little, trying desperately to swallow past the lump that was forming in your dry throat.

"Louis and Mike will be in touch."

"Okay." You turned, heading for her office door, and stopping just before you opened it.

"...Is now a bad time to remind you that bringing Harvey onto my case was your idea?"

The chilling glare that she leveled with answered for her: Yes. It was a very bad time to remind her.

--

“You slept with—” 

“Shut the door and keep your voice down,” Harvey warned stonily. Before either of them could move toward his office door, Donna hurried into view, reaching for the handle. 

“You don’t wanna hear this?” Mike’s brows rose. “You of all people?” 

Donna waved him away, offering, “Intercom,” Before she shut the door. Harvey sighed heavily, lowering himself into his chair. 

“What happened?” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “I’m just—You two hate each other.” 

“Thank you for the reminder. I forgot about that.” 

“Harvey, c’mon,” Mike shook his head as he tried (and failed) to keep from smiling. “What happened?” 

“I went over to hang out.” 

“At her apartment?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, and? Instead of hanging out you…Let it all hang out?” 

“Get out of my office.”

“If that was at her apartment, what happened in the Hamptons?” 

“Nothing happened in the Hamptons. The footage just…We got close, that’s all.” 

“That’s not enough to disbar you.” 

“Because you’re the expert on being disbarred? It’s enough to call my ethics into question…And Jessica’s right, no one needs that headache right now.”  

“So I’m stuck with Louis because you got close? Where’s the Specter spirit? No way are you going to watch this one from the sidelines.” 

On any other case, no, he wouldn’t. Harvey would insist on backseat driving. But on this one…He grimaced, dropping his gaze to his desk. 

“I want regular updates,” He insisted. “That’s all.” 

Mike nodded slowly, conceding: “Okay. But I’ll be ready when you change your mind.” 

-- 

"I'll come over."

He sounded so positive about it—like nothing had happened, or changed. You eyed the remaining trash bags, trying to scrounge up the conviction of an excuse. 

"I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Why not?"

You know why. You shifted your phone from one hand to the other, tucking it between your shoulder and your ear as you reached out, gripping a bag to make it crinkle loudly.

"I've still got some sorting to do."

"I'll help you."

"Not tonight, Harvey."

"...She's not in charge of us, you know."

You tipped your head back against your wall, closing your eyes. "She's actually very much in charge of you."

"At work."

"I know, but I just..." You winced. "I think she's right. We should lay low for a while. If Steven did see that video before Aaron sent it to Jessica, we're both going to have a whole new mess that we're stepping into."

"I'm ready for it."

"...I don't know if I am."

His silence on the other end made you want to crawl out of your skin. "I can only fight one battle at a time, Harvey—And right now, I'm barely managing the big ones."

"Fine."

You knew that fine coming from him. It wasn't fine. It was I'm shutting down. It was I'm finished with this conversation. It was I'm finished with you.

"Harvey—"

You lowered the phone from your ear as the line cut off, watching the inevitable flashing and darkening of his contact. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. How, after all this time, was Harvey Specter still able to make you cry?

-- 

You became solitary again. Life narrowed. You saw Aaron a time or two, but he was so busy either working or gathering intel that you were hardly able to keep up with him. For as much of a lifeline as she had been, Jessica was still pissed, and you hardly spoke more than you needed to. Mike was a dear, checking in to see how you were doing, but most correspondence led inevitably to discussing closings, proceedings, contracts (and you couldn’t blame him for it; he was only doing his job). 

Louis was…A lot. He was very eager, that was clear, and had been working hard to push the sales of the apartment buildings and the home in the Hamptons through. David and his firm were digging into discovery, and were making headway. 

But you had so little life outside of your divorce. Most of your pieces were sold off, so you hardly had any day-to-day tasks to keep you busy—and everything in New York was so goddamn expensive. It felt like you spent $50 just stepping out your front door. There were days when you simply didn’t. It was cheaper to stay in, and quieter (so long as your neighbors didn’t have a screaming match that day).

Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 

--  

Walking back into the firm was uncomfortable. You’d avoided it for as long as you could, but Mike insisted that there were a few documents that absolutely had to be seen and signed in the office. You’d made it an entire three weeks without so much as getting anywhere near the building. You found yourself avoiding even glancing in the direction of Jessica’s office. It was alright, though—Donna was a smiling, comforting presence the second you stepped off of the elevator. 

“Find the place alright?” She teased. 

“I did, thank you. I’ve only been here a dozen times in the last couple of months.” 

“It’s been a few weeks. We thought you’d forgotten where we were.” 

You smiled tightly. You were certain that she knew everything that had gone on—she was the eyes and ears of the place. 

“You know, it’s the funniest thing,” You drawled sarcastically, “I kept coming to the right building and getting off on the wrong floor.” 

“Happens to the best of us. C’mon.” 

You frowned as she led you away from the usual conference rooms, and even further away from Louis’ office. You couldn’t imagine where the heck she was taking you—and your confusion deepened as she opened the door to a room lined with files. She nodded you inside, a knowing smile on her lips as she warned: 

“Two minutes.” 

Two minutes? Until what?

“Thanks, Donna.” Harvey’s voice made you freeze, and you could do nothing but watch Donna close the door behind herself. You looked down at the floor, your hands wringing as you heard Harvey come closer. You felt him stop close behind you, close enough to feel the heat of him.

“...Are you going to look at me?” He hedged softly. 

“No need. I know what you look like.” 

He sighed softly, stepping around to stand in front of you. You watched as his shoes and pant legs came into view. 

“...And you’re just going to look at my shoes now?” 

“They’re nice shoes. Look expensive.” 

“They are.” 

“Figures.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

You looked at him fully, finally, stunned. You were surprised at how drawn he looked. Sure, his suit was impeccable, and his hair was frustratingly perfect, but you could see tiredness around his eyes. 

“You’re going through hell right now,” Harvey went on, “You don’t need me to pile on to that. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” 

You nodded slowly as you took it all in. “Well. We should never have, um…” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze again. “It was stupid.” 

“You regret it?” 

“It’s not worth risking your career over.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Harvey closed the space between the two of you, and you had to force yourself not to lean into him the way you wanted—the way you’d missed for weeks. 

“Harvey,” You warned softly. “I can’t keep playing tug of war with you like this. I’m already at the end of my damn rope.” 

“I know.” 

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his palms sliding warmly over your arms, trailing down until he could gently intertwine your fingers. 

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” He promised, “Until we’re on the other side of this, and your business with the firm is closed out.” 

“And then what?” 

“And then I’ll give you hell.” You spluttered a laugh, unable to help it. Harvey chuckled softly, his nose nudging yours gently. 

“I should go,” You warned softly. “Louis will come looking for me.” 

“Donna will keep him at bay.” 

“She said two minutes. It’s been at least three—” You hardly had time to finish your protestation before Harvey kissed you. You swayed into him, lips slipping tenderly against his as he used his grasp to draw you flush against him. You wiggled your hands from his, curling your arms around his shoulders to keep close. You startled at the two knocks on the door, and smiled as Harvey groaned in irritation. 

“I should let you go,” He mumbled. You nodded, murmured,

“Probably.” 

But neither of you rushed to move. 

-- 

“I'm sorry to see you go. I've enjoyed our time together."

You sort of believed it, given the pinched, almost pained look that Louis leveled you across the desk. And, for all of your work with him over the last three months, you'd gained a sort of affinity for the man...Even if he was a little intense in a way that sometimes confused you. You smiled, taking up the final few documents that you would need for your record.

"I appreciate that, and thank you for all of your hard work, Mr. Litt. It's been..." You weighed your words carefully, "Interesting."

"For me, too. Reach out if you need anything else—doc review, mover recommendations, tickets to the ballet. Anything."

"Tickets to the ballet? I'm impressed." You held your hand out, smiling as he stood and pumped it enthusiastically. "Thank you again."

You were hardly four steps out of Louis' office when you found yourself flanked in the hallway.

"We should celebrate," Harvey insisted.

"And how would we do that?"

"Dinner at La Belle Vache."

Your brows rose as you glanced toward Mike.

"’The beautiful cow’?"

"Harvey's idea."

"With a restaurant name like that, it would have to be."

"Hey, that is not fair! I could be posh."

"It wouldn't suit you, Mr. Ross."

"Is that a yes or a no to dinner?" Harvey plied.

"When?"

"You busy tonight?"

"If I told you I had plans, would you believe me?"

"Not for a second."

"Well, I do."

"Cancel 'em."

"It's with my divorce lawyer."

"And here feels like a good stopping point for me." Mike wheeled around, striding back in the direction that he came.

"What the hell does David want with you after hours?" 

"Deposition starts next week. We're drilling testimony."

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

"Watch it, Specter." You reached out, jabbing the down button on the elevator before turning back to Harvey. He pouted contemplatively before offering: "What about this weekend?"

"I think I could swing this weekend. Is dinner on the firm?"

"It's on me."

"Do you think..." You trailed off, glancing toward Jessica's office, "That the powers that be will approve?"

"Honestly?" Harvey lowered his voice,"I don't give a damn. It's been months. Your business here is wrapped. If Jessica wants to give me a good reason why I can't see you, she's welcome to try—but it won't work."

You bit the inside of your cheek to quell a smile as you reached out, gently straightening Harvey's tie.

"Very forceful, Mr. Specter."

"You like it?"

"It's kinda hot." You turned back and stepped onto the elevator as it chimed.

"This weekend," You finally agreed. "Invite Mike—He's earned several dinners."

"He sure has."

The doors began to close, but Harvey darted in, catching them before they could shut all the way. He darted in, pressing a swift, warm kiss to your lips before he drew away again. You grinned as he stepped back, allowing the doors to close.

--

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

The memory of Harvey's teasing warning was on your mind throughout your time with David, and you found yourself fighting back smiles all evening.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

David watched you from beneath his lashes as he asked, and where that look had intrigued you once, you knew better. You gave a short, firm nod, and insisted: "I have a date."

Your battle with Steven was far from over. You still had forgery cases pending, and your divorce case had hardly begun. But things felt a little lighter these days.

You had a direction, you had cash flow...But you didn't quite have the plan that you once did. You had told Harvey months ago that you were considering moving to Cambridge. It hadn’t completely ceased to be true, but it wasn’t your only consideration anymore. 

There were moments when you could see the glimmer of a life to carve out for yourself: a smaller real estate firm with a few employees—maybe Aaron, if you could lure him away from Steven; a more comfortable apartment than where you were now, but you could live with where you were for a few more months as you got things in order; and, at the very least, a friendship with Harvey. You didn’t know if what the two of you were doing would be sustainable, and you weren’t sure whether either of you really wanted to know—but after all this time, you thought that maybe the two of you deserved another chance. 

--  

“Impressed?” 

It was a fair question, but you were doing your best to school your expression. You didn’t want Harvey to know outright how much you did like his apartment. It was nothing less than you expected—large (though not quite in the palatial way that your old penthouse was), tastefully decorated, with a gorgeous view. You knew why Harvey had brought you up, of course, but now he was just showing off. 

Dinner had been its own round of grandstanding. You and Mike had watched, bemused, as Harvey had gone out of his way to pronounce all of the dishes in a French accent to the clearly not French (but feigning awe) waiter (who you were sure had to deal with this multiple times a day). Harvey had also taught you and Mike a thing or two about wine—or he had tried to, until Mike seemed no longer able to help himself and corrected Harvey on multiple facts about the Rhône valley in the south of France. 

It had been a far more pleasant evening that you had expected to have, and far more jovial than you’d had in a long time. Mike and Harvey were close; you and Harvey had a history; you and Mike had become friends over the course of your time working with him. When Mike had insisted that you all had to do this again sometime, you believed that he meant it. And when Harvey had invited you both up for a nightcap, Mike had politely declined with a smile and a shake of his head, offering:

“I think I should let you two have some time to do…Whatever it is that you need to do.” 

You hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d meant, or what Harvey had told him. You were almost certain that he would’ve been told why Harvey had been taken off of your case in the first place. And sure, now and again, over dinner, you and Harvey had caught one another’s eye, maybe shared a smile. Maybe he’d rested his hand on your knee a time or two, given it a squeeze—because he could. Because the two of you were close and on even footing for the first time in a while. 

“It’s…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Certainly an apartment.” 

“Oh, please,” Harvey scoffed, taking two wine glasses down from the cabinet. “You’re impressed.” 

“It’s nicer than I thought it would be.” 

“You’re dazzled.” 

“I like the kitchen.” 

“You’re helplessly turned on.” 

“‘Helplessly’ is pushing it.” 

“So you admit that you’re turned on?” 

You rolled your eyes, no longer bothering to fight your smile off. 

“Maybe,” You offered, settling onto the couch and kicking off your shoes. Harvey joined you moments later, passing you a glass of wine and gently clinking his against yours before you each took sips. His gaze remained heavy on yours, and he leaned in for a gentle kiss as soon as you lowered your glass. You hummed, raising a hand and cupping his jaw. You leaned back just a touch, smiling as he crowded closer, dipping his head to brush kisses along your neck as his warm palm gently smoothed up your thigh. 

“...Harvey?” 

“Sure, I can show you the bedroom.” 

You laughed softly, shaking your head a little. “Can we talk about it?” 

He groaned, forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder. “Why do you always insist on ruining a perfectly good time?” 

“Like when?”

“Like when we were in the Hamptons.” 

“You thank your lucky fucking stars that I put a stop to that.” 

“Yeah,” He grumbled, leaning back. You watched him swirl his wine in his glass. 

“Please,” You pleaded softly. 

“...I didn’t write the note.” 

Fuck. 

“Okay.” 

“I wrote a note, but…Not that one.” 

“Who wrote that one?” 

“Scottie.” 

“...Okay.” 

“I couldn’t find the one I’d written, she insisted that I couldn’t leave you with nothing.” 

“Well, she was right.” 

“Yeah.” 

You that that sink in for a moment before you pressed: “Why did you leave?”

“I had doubts.” 

“About me?” 

“About us. You know how my parents were, you know…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You know what I saw.” 

“And you thought I would do that to you?” 

“I was afraid of it.” 

“If you were afraid of it, then you thought I was capable of it.” 

“—And when you got married to Steven so quickly—” 

“Oh—!” The heavy, stunned, indignant laugh was pained as it left you. You pushed off of the couch, standing and walking out of Harvey’s reach. You heard him sigh heavily behind you, chased by the clink of him setting his wine glass down as he muttered, “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this.” 

“Do you know why I got married so quickly?” You whirled around to face him. 

“Because you loved Steven?” 

“I never said that. I thought I loved him a bit, sure, but I was afraid that this,” You waved a finger between the two of you, “Would happen again. I thought he would leave. I was afraid that I would spend my entire life being left. So when Steven showed me the slightest bit of attention, I latched on. We eloped. He wanted a big wedding, but I just,” You waved your hand around, “I couldn’t do that a second time. Any of it. I didn’t get a new dress, neither of our families were there, because I knew that they would all watch me, and him, and they’d be thinking it: Is it going to happen again?” 

“You’re saying your entire life with Steven was my fault?” 

“I’m saying that I made a choice, and that what happened with you was a factor—Not a fault, a factor. And why!” You let out another harsh hysterical laugh as tears welled in your eyes, “Why didn’t you just talk to me? What did I do then to make you think that you couldn’t talk to me?”

“I wasn’t ready!” 

“And we could have talked about that! What made you think that I wouldn’t have been alright with moving the wedding back, or going to counseling with you, or whatever you would have needed to get us there?”

“You wanted to get married.”

“I wanted you, Harvey! I would have waited, I—” You turned away, sniffling heavily as tears slipped from your eyes. “Fuck. Ugh.” You raised your glass, draining it before striding over the counter, desperate to put some more distance between the two of you. You set the glass down and yanked a paper towel off of the roll, swiping at your under eyes to clear away any running mascara. You blew your nose as well before balling up the tissue and lobbing it toward the trash can. You heard Harvey’s approaching footsteps, and you pulled in a deep, stuttering breath as he rested his hands on your shoulders. 

“...There’s no way for me to take back or change what I did.” 

“Would you if you could?” 

“Yes.”

“...Okay.” 

“Do you believe me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your head as his hands soothingly rubbed over your arms. You sniffled again, swiping away a stray tear before resting your hands on the counter. 

“You changed the way that I love, Harvey,” You shook your head. “For better or worse, whether you meant to or not, you changed it.” You glanced back toward him. “I can’t get those bits of myself back. You took them from me.” 

“I know. I took them from both of us.” 

You nodded, slowly letting yourself lean back against him. His arms curled around your middle, and you heard a soft, almost relieved groan leave him. You let your eyes close as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, allowing yourselves to settle. 

“...Stay tonight?” He murmured after a few moments. You nodded, smiling as his hold tightened on you again, as if wary that you would change your mind. 

-- 

He had a few more smile lines. His hair still mussed the same; he still made little mumbling noises as he slowly rose from sleep to consciousness. He was still a furnace to sleep beside, and he still held you through the night. It was almost a relief that none of that had changed. 

Waking up in his arms made you feel like it had when you were younger: safe, and loved, and wanted. You hadn't appreciated it when you'd had it just a few months ago, but you were desperate to catch on to every little bit of him now.

You were never going to be able to turn back the hands of time—to go back and warn him, or yourself, or someone that your first wedding day would be a disaster, that it would set you off on a path that you could never have anticipated for yourself. Discussing what had happened hadn't truly healed any of your old wounds.

But as the sun began to creep over the Manhattan skyline and seep into Harvey’s bedroom, you felt closer to peace than you had in a long, long time. 

Harvey snuffled, nuzzling your shoulder as his fingers curled in your borrowed nightshirt. 

“You awake?” He mumbled, the same low, gravely murmur that you had once loved, and missed. 

“Mmmhm.” 

“Want coffee?” 

“Yes.” 

He yawned widely, pressing his face into your shoulder and warming your skin through the fabric. “Bagels?” 

“Sure.” 

“‘Kay.” 

Neither of you made a move to get either. Instead, you combed your fingers through his hair, closed your eyes, and listened to the steady rise and fall of his breathing as you both fell back asleep. 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @gina239 ; @technicallykawaiisoul ; @coldheart-lonelysoul ; @kathrinemelissa ; @jacxx2 ; @pillowjj ; @chanaaaannel ; @avampirescholar ; @kmc1989 ; @mythical-goth ;

#Harvey Specter x Reader #Harvey Specter x You #Harvey Specter/Reader #Harvey Specter/You #Harvey Specter fic #Harvey Specter imagine #Bad Faith

[spidernuggets]

Hiiii

If you don't mind could you maybe write something where Jason and reader get in argument but really it's just Jason being paranoid and accusing her of something she didn't even do, and the argument plus the fact that he doesn't believe her makes her start crying and he just like calls her a crybaby or pathetic or some stupid insult and then leaves but then he finds out she was actually telling him the truth and just how Jason would be after that, would he feel so bad that he avoids her and inadvertently makes it worse or would he immediately go beg forgiveness and apologise?

Jason Todd x Reader

"God, stop crying. This is so pathetic of you. Going off with some guy and then crawling back to me,"

The champagne flute Jason was holding in his hand looked like it was going to break as he watched you talk to some other guy across the room.

It was Stephanie's birthday, and she decided to go big and bold as she usually does each year. She used Bruce's gala hall as her birthday venue and was so excited when you told her that you'd attend.

Of course, Jason attended with you since he goes to Stephanie's birthday every year, but this year, he wasn't so pleased, especially with the way the guy touched your shoulder as you laughed at a joke that Jason presumed was the worst joke in existence.

Jason was having a conversation with another guest, but by the time he turned to see if you were still at the same spot that you were standing at, you were gone.

And so was the guy.

He walked around the hall, frantically searching for you, only imagining the worse.

Were you kidnapped? Did the guy hurt you?

But when he turned to the giant double doors, he saw you walking in. You were laughing. You came in, and you were laughing with that stupid guy.

So that's where you were? Off to who know where with some other guy? What were you doing with him? Where exactly did you go with him?

Jason's insecurities started bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to throw up. One of his worst nightmares came true. You found someone better than him.

Jason was about to storm up to you. Grab you, take you home with him. But Stephanie interrupts, grabbing a hold of his arm.

"Hey, where are you going?" She asks, beaming at him, clearly having a great time.

Jason didn't want to ruin her happiness. But to him, this was far more important.

"Sorry, Steph. I'm beat. I think I'm going to go home. Happy birthday, though," he lowly says, giving Stephanie a light, quick hug before leaving. And Stephanie caught how miserable he looked, and began to get worried.

"Yeah, and I can't believe she-" You felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn to see Stephanie with a worried look on her face.

She doesn't say anything. Instead, she just points to the dejected man leaving the hall.

Your eyes widen before saying by to you guy friend and wishing Stephanie a happy birthday before running towards your boyfriend.

By the time you catch up with him, the two of you are far from the hall.

You grab Jason by the shoulder, making him stop in his tracks.

"Jay? Why are you leaving? If you're too tired, you could've told me. I would've left with you," you said softly, testing the waters of his mood, trying not to push any buttons that might cause an outburst.

"Why would you? You seemed pretty nice and cosy next to your little guy friend," he hissed, shurgging your hand off of him.

You took offence to his comment. "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jason turns to face you. "It means that you don't have to deal with me anymore. Seeing as you ran off with him somewhere for a good while. What? Does he know how to show you a better time."

You couldn't believe what you're hearing. "Jason Peter Todd. If you're accusing me of something, why not just say it straight."

"Fine. You're cheating on me. That's what that was, right? Leaving me all night to talk to some freak," he spits.

Your heart breaks at his words. How can he say that to you? After all the times you've shown him nothing but your love and affection.

You laugh out of spite. "Wow. Is that really how low you think of me, Jason? You think I'm some.. some bitch that would go off to someone else who isn't you?"

That was supposed to be a rhetorical question. A question that would make Jason think about his accusations. But it took a turn.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah maybe you are."

He didn't mean to say that. Why would he say that? He's just so angry and insecure but he didn't mean to project any of that onto you.

Usually, in times where Jason would break down like this, you'd leave, give him some space to calm down. But you're too upset to even walk away.

"How dare you!" You yell. You feel your eyes sting, and your vision starts to blur. " I've been nothing but loyal to you this whole relationship! And you have the audacity to accuse me?? That guy is just a friend that I happen to know from work!" You start to cry, your voice breaking, choking on a sob.

What you say doesn't comprehend to Jason. His head is filled with voices that won't leave him alone.

They found someone better. They're even more angry at you. They're going to leave you. They're crying to guilt trip you.

Jason rolls his eyes. "God, stop crying. This is so pathetic of you. Going off with some guy and then crawling back to me," he lowly says, sending nothing but a hateful glare to you.

What the fuck was happening. Those eyes used to look so soft and loving. Now, it's full of sadness and hatred.

Jason doesn't give you a chance to respond as he walks away. You follow him a bit, seeing him go out the doors of the manor, hopping on his bike and drive away without you.

You stood there. You felt paralysed. You sobs grew louder as you tried to muffle them, bring both hands to your face. Your tears started to ruin your makeup, and you couldn't feel like you can even stand any longer.

You were about to drop to the floor, but luckily, Stephanie and Cass were close behind you, searching for where you and Jason went off to. Stephanie held you close on the ground while Cass crouched beside you, a comforting hand on your shoulder.

After the party, Steph offered you to stay in her room. She went around the manor, looking for clothes and pyjamas that you would feel comfortable in.

You highly appreciated her kindness. But you still felt so numb and empty inside. You're still unsure what happened. Did Jason break up with you?

Stephaine, Cass, and Barbara each visited you throughout the days, checking up on you, assuring you that it wasn't your fault, that men suck, and to give Jason time to tantrum his feelings out himself.

It's been a couple of days now, magbe 2 weeks since that night. You've heard that Jason only came in at least 4 times, only to visit the BatCave for vigilante kind of meetings.

Those 4 times, all the girls have been ignoring Jason, sending him knives through their glares.

Jason came by today to drop off some files about the Riddler. He expected no one in the BatCave, but he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

He turned to see Babs, Cass, and Steph behind him, all their arms crossed and giving him a hateful look.

"What?" He said. They weren't sure if he was clueless or just didn't want to talk.

"What?? What! What the hell was that? Accusing them of cheating, are you serious?" Steph yelled at him, makimg Jason slightly wince. Everyone knows it's bad when Stephanies pissed off.

"If they weren't, then where the hell did they go?" he mutters.

Babs pinched the bridge of her nose. "News flash, genius. There was an open bar outside the hall. The two just webt to grab a drink."

"Oh yeah? So why were they so chummy with some rando?"

"Oh my go- That's their coworker, Kev! And also my friend! We all hung out with him a couple of times, man! Plus, he has a boyfriend!" Stephanie yells, whipping out her phone, showing a pic of her, you, Kev, and another guy beside Kev, who was kissing him on the cheek.

After stuffing her phone back in her pocket, Jason looked like a kicked puppy.

"Steph's room. Now." Barb says. Jason slightly nods and heads out the cave, going up to Steph's room.

He knocks three times on the door. He heard no answer. And there was no answer the next three times he knocked.

He slowly opened the door to peek and saw a lump in the blankets on the bed.

A small smile grows on his lips as he saw you peacefully sleeping. But when he crouches beside the bed to take a closer look at you, he takes note of your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and his heart broke.

You shifted in your sleep, your body turning away from him.

"I didn't say you can come in," you muttered.

Jason sighs. "I know. Will you look at me... please?"

You scoff. "This is so pathetic of you. Accusing me of cheating and then crawling back to me," you say, your voice hoarse as you mocked his words from that night.

"I know, darling. It is. It is pathetic. I had no right to accuse you. I was... I was so jealous. I thought you finally found someone better than me. That you'd finally leave me. I thought that if I left first, it wouldn't hurt as much. But it still did. It hurt so much," his voice started to break, and tears started travelling down his cheek. "I don't expect you to forgive me. But I'm so sorry, my darling. I love you so much."

One second turns to two. Then a minute goes by. One long, long minute. Jason tries hard not to sob in front of you as he gets up and begind to take his leave, harshly wiping his tears.

"It's kinda cold," you say quietly. Jason turns to you. You can see the confusion on his face. But you can also see his red nose and wet cheeks.

You lift the blanket from the empty spot beside you. "You coming in or what?" You ask. This makes Jason break into another sob, quickly wiping the tears away from his face as he awkwardly takes the empty spot beside you.

He wraps his arms around you as you nuzzle yourself into his chest.

"I'm sorry," he says once more, his voice cracking.

"I don't know if I can forgive you yet, Jay," you say. "But right now, I just want to be with you." Jason sniffles, burying his face to the crown of your head as you placed a light kiss to his Adam's apple.

"As much as this is cutely bitter-sweet, if you two are gonna cuddle, do it in Jason's room. I will not have couple cooties all over my bed," Steph says out of nowhere. Both your heads look over to the door where you see Babs, Steph, and Cass standing where Cass awkwardly waves.

"Yeah, yeah, we're going," you say, getting up, pulling Jason with you.

#jason todd #jason todd is my life #red hood #titans jason todd #jason todd titans #jason todd x reader #dc titans #i love jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd ff #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd angst #red hood x y/n #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x you #red hood fluff #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood angst #red hood dc #dc red hood #dc jason todd #jason todd dc

[littledovesnow]

a/n: hi hello here is 2.4kl of young!coriolanus x fem!reader <3 should i continueeeeee?

------

The margins of your notebook paper were running out of room, and Dean Highbottom didn’t seem to be nearing the end of his lecture. You weren’t even sure of why there were lessons and lectures about the war, you and your classmates were all old enough to remember living through it a mere decade ago.

You stifled a yawn, perking up when you saw the Hunger Games creator plop back onto the chair in the center of the lecture hall, hands already reaching for the bottle of morphling on his desk.

“Don’t forget, the top 24 students are to meet tomorrow morning in the Great Room. Do not be late.”

The rush of students leaving the room caused you to slow as you gathered your things, chewing on your lower lip out of nerves. No one knew what required the students to come back after hours, but there were rumors of it involving the Plinth Prize.

Coriolanus met you outside of the hall, small smile on his face. You were thankful for Tigris for setting you and her cousin up, as the icy blond known for his wits and sharp demeanor, was often the sole ray of light in your day-to-day.

“Have you heard for certain that this meeting tomorrow is about the Plinth Prize?” You asked, lacing your fingers with your boyfriend’s slender ones.

Coriolanus frowned, shaking his head. “No, I doubt it is about that. More than likely some absurd dedication gala, perhaps Plinth paid his way into University early.”

It was no secret the Capitol students thought lowly of their fellow classmate, ostracizing him not long after the Plinths gained access into the Capitol.

“Hm, I suppose so.” You pondered.

“Why? Did Dean Highbottom say anything?”

Shaking your head, you thanked Coriolanus as he opened the door for you, following you out into the brisk, afternoon air. “No, but Festus was gossiping again to the others. Saying how he’s got a lucky ticket into the Plinths’ pockets.”

“Festus didn’t even complete Dr. Gaul’s assignment last week.”

You let out a small laugh, coming to a stop at the roundabout in front of Citadel, looking up at your boyfriend. “You know, you and your family are always welcome for dinner. My mother has been wanting a reason to show of the new dinnerware one of the Avoxes found.”

Having been friends with Tigris for so long, and dating Coriolanus over the last few years, you weren’t privy to their financial woes, but you never pushed your own family’s wealth onto him.

“I promised Grandma’am I would help prune her roses tonight.”

“Oh, you softie. Better not let Arachne hear you have a heart, Corio. Word might get out.” You poked him in the bicep, teasing smile on your face.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, pressing his lips to your own before parting ways.

------

The room was alive and the chatter was loud when you stepped into the meeting hall for Dean Highbottom’s announcement and the reaping.

Having spotted your boyfriend and fellow classmates, you marched over, heels ponding on the marble floor.

“Oh, there she is. Your Coryo has been lost without you.” Arachne quipped, flute of posca in her hand.

“Well, at least someone cares about me. Can’t say the same for you.” You bit back, Coriolanus choking on his own posca as he wrapped his free arm around you.

Felix Ravenstill, who had just been at the buffet table, openly laughed at your remark.

“Now, now, children, let’s not ruin the mood.” Clemensia teased, giving a warm smile to you and Coriolanus.

“This lamb is scandalous; you guys have to try it!” Felix said, sucking the juice of his finger.

You made a face, stepping closer to your boyfriend as Festus chided Felix for his lack of manners.

“Hey, we’re here for the Plinth Prize, right?” Felix asked, setting his now empty plate on the tray of a passing Avox. “Because I heard my father mention that Dr. Gaul is here.”

You felt Coriolanus tense at the mention of the head Gamemaker. “What? Why would she be here for that?”

The group shrugged, Arachne catching the attention of the group as she chided the family of the hour, who had just strolled in. “Why the face, Y/N? Not a fan of your boyfriend’s friend?” She asked, smirk on her face.

“He’s not my friend, Arachne. I simply tolerate him.” Coriolanus spit back. “He’s District.”

You softly jabbed your elbow into your boyfriend’s ribs, noticing Sejanus was walking over to the circle.

“Hi, Sejanus.” You greeted him with a friendly smile, much to the dismay of your boyfriend. “Made it to the reaping.”

“Yeah, for once.” Festus added, earning a chuckle from Felix and Arachne.

Sejanus smiled at you, though his voiced a reply to Festus. “Yes, and you made it to graduation, Festus. We’re both shocked.”

You hid a smile in Coriolanus’ arm, Arachne’s questioning about the Plinth Prize garnering your attention.

“Now, now, I’m not going to ruin my father’s news. I know no one here actually likes him, but they do like his money.” Sejanus spoke, looking at the red-lipped girl. “You know what that’s like, right Arachne?”

Before anyone could reply, Dean Highbottom called the room to attention, and the anthem began playing, signaling everyone to take their seats.

You slipped into a chair between Coriolanus and Clemensia, tucking your cheek between your teeth. Coriolanus took your right hand in his left, twisting the ring on your pointer finger mindlessly.

“Good luck, Coryo.” You whispered, though you knew he was a shoe-in to win the Plinth Prize.

He didn’t reply, seemingly in a trance as he stared at Dr. Gaul.

“Clem,” You whispered, leaning to your other side. “Why you do think Dr. Gaul is here? The reaping doesn’t usually require her attendance.”

Shrugging, Clemensia had the same look as you. “Maybe something special for the tenth anniversary?”

You pondered that thought, only for your questions to be shut down when Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul announced that this year, the top 24 students would be mentoring a tribute. “The best mentor will receive the Plinth Prize.”

“What?” You asked, the sudden question capturing the attention of the students around you. “What do you mean best mentor? The best mentor will be the one who’s tribute wins the Games!”

“Miss Rosewing, mind your manners or I will demerit you on the spot.” Dean Highbottom spoke, silencing you.

Coriolanus’ knee was shaking, a telltale of the anxiety coursing through him. His family was depending on the Plinth Prize to keep there apartment, to afford food, to survive.

Arachne, who was just as distraught as you, spoke up this time. “What if I get the pathetic runt girl from one of the poor districts like 8 or 12? They’ll die in two minutes just as they did last year!”

“Now, now, Miss Crane, your role,” Dean Highbottom spoke, gesturing to the two dozen Academy rouge uniforms seated in front of him. “Is to create spectacles out of these tributes. Victory is only part of the considerations for the Plinth Prize. Your future rests on this last project.”

You heard Coriolanus swear under his breath, his hand moving from your own to on your knee, something to ground him in the moment.

“Oh, one more thing,” Dean Highbottom added, grabbing a small index card form his desk. “If you are caught cheating and giving your tribute an unfair advantage, you will have no future at all.”

You all sat in silence as the reaping played on the large screen in front of you, some cheers rang out from students who got tributes from the first few districts, though Sejanus’ outburst at getting a tribute from his home district broke the tension.

“District ten boy, Y/N Rosewing. Girl, Arachne Crane.” You hummed, looking at the boy in the screen.

“Oh, you’ll Iike this one, Miss Crane.” Dean Highbottom smirked from his spot. “District 12 girl, Coriolanus Snow.”

You snapped your neck to look at your boyfriend, who wore an unreadable expression on his face. “Coryo,” you whispered, sorrow in your voice.

He was one of the first out of his seat when the group was dismissed, and you were quick to follow.

------

Behind a pillar out front, you found Coriolanus staring out into the main road, watching cars go to and fro, silent.

You stepped next to him, looking up at his face. “It’ll be okay, Coryo.”

“Hah,” he laughed bitterly, looking down at you. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. You can just go back to your fancy house and and maids and full kitchen. I needed the Plinth Prize, Y/N.” He spoke, pure anger in his face.

You were taken aback, not used to seeing this side of Coriolanus. “Then make sure you show that tribute how to win the Games.”

“How?”

“You saw her sing when she was up on that stage. Give the Capitol a show. A reason to want he to win.” You suggested. “We have time to meet with the tributes tomorrow at the zoo. Figure out what she’s good at, then use it to your advantage, Coryo. Use it to win.”

------

You were livid when you walked into the zoo, seeing your boyfriend in the cage with the tributes- the animals.

Lucky Flickerman was talking to them, and you nearly burst a blood vessel when you saw their linked hands. This was not what you meant when you advised your boyfriend to figure out what Lucy Gray was good at.

Once the cameras and microphones were out of the way, you marched over to where the two were still talking. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Lucy Gray looked between you and Coriolanus, who had half a mind to have a sheepish look on his face. “Who’s askin’?”

You looked her up and down, in the bright dress Arachne likened to a clown the previous day. “Did you force him into that cage? Get your little friends to threaten him?” “Hey, Y/N, she didn’t do anything.” Coriolanus spoke up, stepping between the two of you even though there was a gate in the way. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

Lucy Gray’s lips formed an O, and she had an apologetic look on her face. “I wasn’t aware, I do apologize.”

You hummed, taking one last look at your boyfriend before heading over towards Arachne and your tribute, water bottle in hand.

“Tanner,” you smiled, passing the water bottle between the fence posts. “Do you need any medicine, are they feeding you?” You asked, kneeling to get some bread out of your bag.

Your tribute, Tanner, was grateful and kind as you two spoke, a stark contrast to Arachne and her tribute, Brandy, who she was teasing with water.

“Arachne, watch-” You began to advise the girl, though her tribute was too quick, and in the blink of an eye all Hell broke loose.

You watched in what felt like slow motion as Brandy smashed the glass bottle into Arachne, piercing her in the neck.

“No!” You cried, moving to cover the wounds with your hands. You vaguely felt glass poking and breaking skin in your hands, and gunshots from the Peacekeepers.

Arachne wasn’t a friend, but she was a classmate, someone who you had spent most of your life sitting around. You tried to save her, but the blood gurgled up and out, life draining from her eyes.

“Arachne, hey- don’t, it’ll be okay! Someone’s coming, just hold on!” You cried, aware of arms pulling you off of the deceased mentor.

------

Coriolanus was discussing getting a guitar for Lucy Gray when he heard the noise.

Looking over, he felt his heart shoot into his throat when he saw Arachne, you, and a mess of blood on the ground. “Y/N!” He called, trying to evade the Peacekeepers between the two of you.

The tributes were ushered back against the wall of the cage, the public and mentors ushered out of the zoo.

Coriolanus saw the dead tribute on the ground, and you were on top of Arachne, hands to her bleeding neck. “Let me go, that’s my girlfriend!” He begged the Peacekeepers, their hold on him unwavering.

He finally broke free of their grasp when one of the tributes threw a rock over, and Coriolanus darted over towards you, pulling you off of Arachne’s body.

“It’s okay, hey, look at me.” Coriolanus walked the two of you away from the scene, all while you were still in a panicked daze.

“Can you hear me?” He asked, moving some hair out of your face. “I need to know you’re with me.”

You finally met your boyfriend’s eyes, breath slowing down a bit. “Arachne- she-”

“I know, I know.” Coriolanus felt his heart break at the look on your face. “Deep breaths, okay?”

You nodded softly, taking a few shaky breaths, looking down at your hands.

Coriolanus followed your gaze, frowning when he saw a few pieces of glass in the palms of your hands.

He led you over to one of the medics, who seemed to be the zoo’s veterinarian. “She was cut trying to save our classmate. Can you help?”

The vet nodded, having you sit on the ledge near him. “I don’t have any morphling, this will hurt. I apologize.”

You nodded, still breathing heavily from the adrenaline leaving your body. Coriolanus stood next to you, rubbing your upper back and keeping an eye on everyone around.

“Will she need stitches?” Coriolanus asked, frowning when he felt you wince as a larger piece of glass was taken out of your palm.

Nodding, the vet pointed to a small section under your thumb. “Only here I believe. You will want to get this looked at in a proper hospital. Make sure no infection is present.”

You nodded once, looking away as the vet began threading a needle to stitch your skin.

Coriolanus fished a water bottle out of his bag, unscrewing the top and offering it to you. “Dr. Gaul better just call off these games. One tribute is already dead, what is the point?”

You hummed, thanking the vet as he finished stitching your hand. “I don’t want to think about the Games right now.”

Nodding, you and Coriolanus slowly walked back to the Corso, back to the Snow penthouse.

#srsly let me know if i should continue and write more fun stuff babes #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games imagine #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow

[c-nstantine]

I'm on a random Roy Harper and John Constantine kick rn so I need literally anything with them and black batsis😭🙏🏽❤️

i need to write more for roy and black!batsis. they have my heart. there are some brief allusions to roy's background as an addict

@blckbarbiedoll let me know what you think!!

"Roy, you hate these things," Dick spoke while standing next to his best friend. Dick's eyes scanned the crowd of older people at the annual Wayne Holiday Gala. He was on older brother duty and making sure the younger siblings didn't completely destroy them even before everyone went home.

"Yep," Roy sighed sipping apple juice from his champagne flute. His eyes, however, were trained on the person. Y/N Wayne walked and talked on the arm of her father as they made their rounds. She looked gorgeous in that red dress with a high slit and her knotless goddess braids were pulled into a half-up half-down fashion. She looked up and saw him staring and gave him a soft smile that he quickly returned.

"You hate suits," Dick said plucking hor d'ouevres off a waiter's tray as they walked by. He didn't get it, Roy was so utterly devoted to Y/N. Dick was raised with her and knew all her faults and flaws but none of that mattered to Roy.

"Yep," Roy pulled at the collar of his tux at the reminder of the stiff contraption that he was wearing. Y/N had it custom-made for him so it was as irritable and it matched her dress. His hair was slicked back with one or two strands falling to frame his face.

"So, why are you here?" Dick couldn't fathom being in love with one person this much. Sure, he'd put himself through hours of torture for Kori or Babs but something so minuscule in the grand scheme of things seemed a bit tiring.

"I'm your sister's date," Roy shrugged. She asked if he wanted to come and said he didn't have to but the way her eyes lit up when he said yes made it all worth it.

"You know you don't have to do everything she asks," Dick stated. Roy considered it for a second. Sure on the surface it did seem like Roy mindlessly followed Y/N around but there were things she did for him that no one could fully understand even if they tried and he loved it. She was more than Bruce Wayne's daughter that everyone tried to make her out to be.

"I know but look how happy it made her. I'd do anything for her to be happy, you know that, right?" Roy stated clearly without hesitation.

"You're a good man, Roy," Dick patter his friend on the shoulder before going to take a knife from Damian.

-

"Roy?" A voice called from behind him. A voice that he'd recognize from anywhere.

"Oliver," Roy turned to the older man. The two had fallen out of contact in the past five or six years. Not because of bad blood or anything but the two had simply stopped talking. It was a little odd how the man he considered to be a father figure just disappeared but it was okay. Roy was going to get better regardless of whether Oliver was there or not.

"I didn't know you'd be here," Oliver wasn't clear on what to say. What do you say to the person that you raised as a child but abandoned because of a drug problem?

"I'm Y/N's plus one," Roy continued to sip his apple juice.

"Right, Bruce talks about how happy he is to have a grandkid. How is Lian?" Roy smiled at the mention of Bruce and Lian. The old Bat had enjoyed babysitting whenever Y/N and Roy needed a day off.

"She's good. She adores Y/N." It was true. Lian and Y/N were basically inseparable at times. It felt like Lian preferred at times but Roy would never have it any other way.

"Good, that's good. Why don't you, Y/N, and Lian stop by for dinner sometime?" That sounded like an empty offer but Roy would follow up with Dinah nonetheless to at least say he tried.

"Yeah, yeah" Roy was this close to breaking his champagne glass but if he learned anything from Y/N, it was to smile through the pain.

"Nice seeing you," Oliver disappeared into the crowd of rich people. Roy sighed with relief. His mood cheered when he saw Y/N walk towards him. She wore a bright smile on her face and seeing that smile made the painful interaction with Oliver so much more worth it.

"Hey, babe. Thank you for being here. I know you hate these things," Y/N pulled him close and inhaled his cologne. Her social battery was almost at zero and she wanted nothing more than to be cuddled on a couch with her boyfriend.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. There was nowhere else he would rather be as long as he was with her.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #black!batsis #roy harper x batsis #roy harper x reader #roy harper x black batsis #roy harper x spoiled!batsis #spoiled black!batsis #spoiled!batsis

[neverinadream]

Once Dance, Chérie

Summary: Charles gets you to do the one thing most fail to do: he gets you to dance.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader // Arthur Leclerc x Fem!Reader (briefly mentioned - strictly platonic)

Requested: Nope.

Song Inspo: Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) - Edison Lighthouse

Warnings: fluff, the reader is technically younger than charles - like arthur's age, not necessarily a friends to lovers but like maybe a hint at it - maybe...

Notes: i don't even know what this is or if i like it but i can't lie, i was listening to the glee cast version of unchained melody and then i got this idea of charles trying to get arthur's best friend to dance with him at a wedding so this happened....yeah....anyway, feedback is always appreciated, it helps a lot

"Say cheese!"

"No, Charles," you shake your head, covering the lens of the cheap, disposable camera. They had been left out on the tables, with people being encouraged to pick them up and take pictures. You had enjoyed watching your baby cousins running and sliding around the ballroom on their knees, avoiding the discipline of their parents, giddy to snap pictures of other guests, plates of food, the wedding cake, and close-ups of each other's faces pulling various funny expressions. What you didn't enjoy was fending off your best friend's older brother trying to take pictures of you. "Charles, please, stop," you pleaded, finally pushing the camera away, "I really don't think Daphne wants an entire camera roll full of blurry images of my face."

"I wouldn't necessarily say that would be a bad thing," he replies, giving up on his mission to snap as many pictures of you as possible. His mouth curls into a smile as he catches you rolling your eyes, mumbling something incoherent under your breath, hiding behind your champagne flute. "Well," he clears his throat and rises from the table, "you'll at least dance with me, won't you?" He watches your eyes travel to his hand extended in front of you, the smaller glimmer of hope he had melting away as you reject him. "Why not?"

"Simple answer," you shrug your shoulders, "I don't dance."

"It's a wedding, chérie," it slipped off his tongue with ease, "everyone dances at weddings."

"Not me," you continue your protest, folding your arms across your chest.

He wiggles his fingers in the air. "Come on," he tries to entice you with a smile, "I know you like this song." You did like the current song playing. It was 'Love Grows' by Edison Lighthouse. It reminded you of Saturday mornings as a child, watching your dad float around the kitchen, twirling your mum around until she was laughing, before doing the same with each of you and your sisters. "Just one dance."

"Arthur won't like it," you tell him, trying to find a new excuse not to dance with him.

He raises his eyebrow, the corners of his mouth dropping and the smile he once had before now disappearing. "Now you're just making up excuses not to dance with, chérie," there it was again, so easily said like it meant nothing at all to him, "Arthur has been telling me to stay away from you since you were both fourteen years old. It hasn't exactly worked, has it? Why don't you really want to dance with me? Hmm?" His arm finally drops, his hands tucking loosely into his pockets. "I'll have you know, I'm an excellent dancer," he boasts, drawing a soft chuckle to spill from your carefully painted lips, "just ask Eloise." Eloise was your baby cousin and someone who had taken a fancy to Charles, tugging his hand and dragging him away to dance as often as Charles would allow it to happen.

"Eloise is seven years old, Charles," you fire back, shaking your head, "she would tell you you're an amazing singer if you were to sing her favourite song to her."

His bottom lip falls away from his top lip. "The little liar!"

"If you must know, I don't dance because I can't dance," you fold your arms, plucking your champagne flute between your fingers, tilting it to take a long sip, "I have two very clumsy left feet."

"I'm going to let you in on a secret," he says, removing his suit jacket in one simple, fluid motion. He leans forward, bending over you as he hangs the jacket over the back of your chair, all an act of his so he could get close enough to you to whisper, "I have two left feet too," into your ear. He swears he could feel the heat that pinched your cheeks, quietly chuckling when you avoided his eye contact as he straightened up.

"I, uh," you take another sip of your champagne, just enough to lubricate your dry mouth, "I thought you just said you were a great dancer?"

"I believe I said an 'excellent' dancer," he corrects you, unbuttoning his cufflinks, proceeding to roll his sleeves up, "and I've been told that my source might be unreliable." Satisfied with his sleeves, he extends his arm, offering you his hand as he attempts, one last time, to ask you to dance. "Doesn't your date deserve at least one dance with you tonight?"

"Your date?" You scoff, repeating his words back to him. He doesn't reply but grins back at you instead. "And how exactly did you end up being my date?" You push for an explanation, "because I thought I came to this wedding without a date."

He gestures his hand between the both of you, like he was trying to mime out his answer. "I have no date," he continues to wave his hand back and forth from his body, "you have no date." You failed to see an ounce of logic in his answer.

"And neither does my sixteen-year-old cousin," you fire back, pointing to the dance floor, "I'm sure he would love to have Charles Leclerc as his date tonight."

"One dance, chérie."

A sigh pushes past your lips. You knew Charles could be persistent, but you didn't think he would be this persistent. "You won't stop pestering me until I say yes, will you?" He shakes his head, grinning with a playful glint in his eyes. "If I say yes, will you promise that you will never ask me to dance ever again?"

"I pro-"

"And you'll promise to stop trying to take pictures of me?"

He rests his hand over his heart. "I promise never to ask you to dance ever again," he tells you, his face softening as you finally take his hand, "except on our wedding day." You look off to the side, biting back the urge to laugh or smile. "We'll have to dance at our wedding, chérie," he chuckles, offering you his other hand and helping you to your feet, "or did you think I forgot about it?"

When both you and Arthur were four, your mothers made a joke about the two of you being so attached to the hip that you would one day get married to each other. They were met with a chorus of disgust, the two of you shaking your heads and Arthur pretending to be sick. Charles, however, announced that he would marry you instead, because if Arthur wasn't going to marry the prettiest princess in all of Monaco, then he would instead.

"You're still the prettiest princess in Monaco, chérie."

"Five," you count, unable to ignore the flutter in your belly as he repeats it, "that's five times you've now called 'chérie' tonight. Some might say you've used it over excessively tonight. Enough times to last a lifetime."

"Would you like me to call it you again?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. He takes a second to study your face, painting an image of your beauty in his mind to remember you by until the next time he saw you. "Or, perhaps you want me to call you something else?"

"Perhaps I just want us to dance."

He nods, releasing one of your hands, and interlocking his fingers with the other. "Then lead the way, chérie," he feigns a gasp, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile, "that was number six."

TAGLIST:

@lovelynikol16 @bracedes @chelseagirl98

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 16

Part 15

The next day, Steve was probably the clingiest he'd ever been. He thought his heat had ended but the new pack bonds brought on a new crest of lust. For the first time since he had arrived, he ate breakfast with everyone in the kitchen. After the meal, Steve made himself comfortable in Eddie's lap.

Eddie and Jeff were talking about concepts for the next album. Gareth was nursing his coffee, still waking up. Grant got up to refill his own mug and Steve's eyes followed him like a hawk. Eddie was pretty attuned to Steve's wants and needs. And when he felt Steve's fingers brush against his lips while staring at the unaware beta across the room, he had a pretty good idea of what his baby wanted.

"Remember sweetness, you gotta use your words. The boys don't know all your tells yet."

Steve whimpered and whined at first, but not longer after he was purring as Grant ate him out on the counter.

Soon enough though, it was time for Corroded Coffin to return to the public eye. And almost just as quickly, the fans with a keen eye noticed a certain omega showing up much more. Not just on Eddie's arm but the rest of the band's as well.

The more it was seen, the more permanent Steve's position appeared. It was February when the competing hashtags #ccomega and #notouromega showed up. Of course, the overwhelming majority of the fans were in the camp of 'neither one is gonna fuck you, so stop wasting your time arguing about it'.

Eddie was reading through a couple of argument threads, snickering to himself when Steve stepped out of the dressing room.

"What about this one?"

The outfit consisted of tight leather pants, a blazer, and a mesh shirt under that. Eddie's hands fell to the magnetic force that was Steve's nipples and started playing with them through the shirt. He let that be his answer and the online comment wars were forgotten for a moment. The new outfit was for an award show the band was attending and throughout the whole thing, Steve ignored his own reserved seat and stayed planted in Eddie's lap.

Given that it was an award show, many eyes were on it, even those not typically concerned with celebrity gossip. When it started spreading to such a degree, even THEY couldn't ignore it. Helen Harrington should have known something was up the moment Irene got that nasty look in her eyes, taking a sip of her champagne flute before speaking.

"Of course, we can't all have such famous children. Steve has been in so many magazines these days. I think the last one actually caught him with his pants down", Irene laughed haughtily.

Helen's face was tight with control. "You're such a charmer Irene. Not most people would admit to reading such tabloid trash."

It was reaching their circle of colleagues, which meant something must be done about their son. She and her husband Richard discussed as much. Steve couldn't be allowed to drag their name through the mud like this anymore.

-----------------------

Steve had basically taken up residence in the band's house. He slept in Eddie's room, which was now functionally his as well. Every morning he woke up with their scents mingled and it made his omega purr with satisfaction. He liked whenever the rest of his pack's scents lingered on his body too. Every time he went out, people knew who he belonged to, even without a bite.

But the thought of getting a mating bite did intrigue him.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up though. They'd already taken a major step in their relationship. Asking to be mated forever seemed like asking too much too soon. But relaxing in the living room, warming his alpha's cock with his mouth while daytime television played on sounded perfect.

And everyday with Steve was perfect in Eddie's opinion. Valentine's Day needed to be more perfect. He had a hunch why Steve was spending February 13th with Jeff and Gareth. It didn't make him any less crabby about it though and unfortunately Grant was left to deal with his crabby ass. He was even crabbier when he realized Steve had awakened much earlier the next day and that Eddie wouldn't be seeing him until evening.

CC had a radio interview and Steve was off doing who knew what. Eddie had half a mind to send him relentless thirst texts but instead just made sure he remembered they had reservations at a private restaurant. Eddie sent a car to get Steve and by 8 they had both arrived. Eddie was practically drooling at the silk shirt Steve was wearing.

And the thrill of later events got to him as he put a hand to Steve's back and felt something lacy underneath the shirt.

"You got a surprise for me, baby?"

Steve's smile was coy. "Maybe. Maybe I did a little shopping and I needed a couple of extra eyes to make sure it looked right."

Well that explained why the other two tagged along. And Eddie was only a little jealous that they got to see his present early. Only a little. Steve was pressed to his side for the entire dinner, feeding each other and feeling his surprise just under the silk.

"Baby, I don't think I can wait any longer", Eddie murmured against his ear.

"I can't either", Steve whispered back, legs rubbing together.

There was no way they were making it back home. Steve needed Eddie inside him now and he let him know that by letting out quiet whimpers directly into his ear. Eddie bit his lip, getting a naughty thought in his head.

"I've got an idea...if you're into it."

Steve was definitely into any ideas he had and soon the bill was paid and they were rushing back to the car Eddie had driven here. Eddie started driving with one hand, then other cupped Steve between the legs. It didn't take long for Eddie to find what they needed.

A 24 hour car wash.

They both climbed into the backseat as soon as the car was set on the track. Steve sunk down on Eddie's cock and rode him without an ounce of shame, letting his voice ring out among the noises of the brushes and soap and water. Eddie knew he must have hearts in his eyes, watching this beautiful creature, shirt falling open to reveal the dark green lingerie underneath.

When they came, they only had a few moments to make themselves decent as the car started to exit the wash. Steve didn't even try, just lying in the backseat with his pants off while Eddie scrambled back to the front. With very little regard for much else, Eddie peeled out of the parking area to preserve Steve's modesty.

Meanwhile, Steve had few qualms about having his cunt out in the backseat. This time of night, it was dark besides a few streetlamps. he reached down to feel his own wetness mingling with Eddie's cum. Eddie wasn't playing any music, so the sound of Steve's pussy sounded like it was echoing in the car. This man would be the death of him.

The rest of the night was spent in romantic bliss, just the two of them. But Steve had already given the rest of his pack chocolates.

The next morning, Steve's dream of a domestic life with Eddie was interrupted by his phone ringing. Eddie groaned at the intrusion and Steve reached out to grab it and see who was calling him. The number had no name attached, but he knew it by heart. He'd known the number since he was young but it had been years since he'd called it. Or since it had called him.

He ignored the call to stop the ringing and cuddled back up to his alpha. Eddie was all who mattered right now. Not them. He ignored the call that came a couple of hours later, and the few that came the next day as well. He didn't even listen to the voicemails left for him. Whatever they had to say, couldn't be anything good.

It was two weeks later when he got his first piece of mail since he started living here and who else could it be from but his parents. He leaned against the fridge as he opened it, finally curious enough to find out what they wanted.

"So what'd they send you?", Eddie asked before spooning some cereal into his mouth.

For a moment, Steve simply stood there, mouth agape as he read the envelope's contents.

"Sweetheart?"

"My parents.... sent me a cease and desist letter."

Part 17 (final)

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

[moonsorchid]

Rewatching ep. 27 of Love Between Fairy and Devil:

(spoilers ahead)

I still can't believe DFQC gave Xiao Lanhua permission to talk with Changheng privately. If that doesn't show growth, I don't know what does

Of course he was burning inside but still

"My affection for you is gratitude and appreciation." I am sorry, Changheng, but you got friendzoned

I like Changheng a lot, but I won't lie, I was so happy when I heard her say these words. She finally admits her feelings

DFQC is so worried, but no he'll play it cool

Oh wait

Awe and now they are being cute

Shangque, don't answer him! It is a trap. Jieli is right, you are silly *facepalm* Why on earth did you trust him with that piece of information?

Omg, not the locks. They are buying the locks. Uff, all I can think of is that bridge scene. They are being cute and I am thinking heartbreak

Yeah, Dongfang Qingcang, keep telling yourself this

Jieli and Sangque are so cute

All Shangque wants to do is see the moon with Jieli, but she is busy girlbossing

DFQC had to go to the loudest vendor in the Cangyan Sea

How does Xiao Lanhua have money? Is DFQC giving her an allowance or what?

Omg, the locks, the locks *taking deep breaths, trying not to cry*

And now he is carving her name with a silly smile on his face. Awe baby is so in love

Xunfeng, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING? Leave the man alone! He is busy carving her name on the lock and he is happy

Well, he does have a point though about the hellfire

Oh no, did he just ask him to kill her?

Tell him, Dongfang Qingcang

Xunfeng, can you please shush?

I love Ronghao playing the flute with no effort or facial movement whatsoever

Btw, Ronghao is so delulu, but so handsome. I can't stop staring at him

Poor baby Ronghao. I feel so bad for his past. But it still does not excuse all the evil he's done and the hurt he's caused

"I just want my master back. Even if she kills me, I'll feel no regrets." *sigh*

Oh good, the emperor *insert sarcasm*

"I really don't know how to spend my days." Changheng needs desperately a new hobby

Oh now the emperor is like "look, bro, I didn't mean I'll kill you, just admit your mistake and punishment and all is well. I kinda need you to kill DFQC for me, because I may be the emperor but you are stroooonger"

Tell him, Changheng!

Is there a magical medical device indicating the percentage of recovery for DFQC and in earlier episodes for Xiao Lanhua?

DFQC is so worried for his people, but Xiao Lanhua is there for him

Jieli, I trusted you, I really did

#apologies for the long post #i admit i can't rewatch after ep 27 on my own #i need company #and emotional support #it would be funny if it weren't true #i am a big baby i know #this drama is such a rollercoaster #also i watched the last episodes in a hurry because i wanted to see the end #so yeah i don't remember a lot of details #see you in episode 28 #love between fairy and devil #lbfad #thoughts #rewatching #mine #orchid's reactions

[runawaycatwalker]

Part 25. Best Friend Erasure (Oni-Chan 2.0, part B)

< First | < Previous | Next >

Description below the cut

Catwalker approaches Ladybug as she stands on a roof.  She points off in a far away direction.

Catwalker: Ladybug!  Oni-Chan is back, and this time her powers are—

Ladybug: I need you to go to one of the rooftops way over there and stay right there.

Catwalker: Are you sure?  I could do more here if I—

Ladybug: Just.  Go.

Catwalker: ...Yes, Ladybug.

Ladybug swings towards a rooftop where the other heroes have congregated near a Find Adrien billboard.  Viperion looks up at Ladybug.

Viperion: Ladybug!  Why isn't Catwalker with you?  Did you talk to him about... that thing I told you?

Ladybug: We talked.  He wasn't hiding what you thought he was.

Viperion: Oh.

Ladybug stands in a ‘take charge’ pose right in front of the billboard with Adrien’s face.  Most of the heroes gather in to look towards her, but Carapace looks off towards the direction Catwalker took instead.

Ladybug: And everybody, gather around! You should all know this.  Catwalker is on probation until further notice.

Viperion: Probation?  Isn't that kind of extreme?

Ladybug: I have my reasons.  He's keeping his miraculous, but you're the people I'm going to rely on to beat the akumas.  For now, consider him an observer and just ignore him.

Carapace starts using his shield as a phone to text his girlfriend.

Carapace (texting): Rena, why is Catwalker allowed to keep his miraculous?  We *have* to stop him from causing more damage.

Rena Furtive (texting): I'm watching him, don't worry.

Cut to Rena hiding on a rooftop as she uses her flute simultaneously as a telescope to spy on Catwalker and a phone to tap out a reply to her boyfriend.

Rena Furtive (texting): But if you want to try to get more info out of him as Carapace...?  I'm sure Ladybug wouldn't mind...

Carapace leaps towards Catwalker, who looks at him suspiciously.

Catwalker: Carapace?  What are you doing here?

Carapace: Ladybug said you were alone, and I thought you shouldn't be.

Catwalker: You should go back.  Ladybug needs every hero she can get.

Catwalker perches himself on the ledge of the building he’s atop of.

Carapace: Then why did Ladybug send you all the way out here?

Catwalker: She needs me.  I just... need to wait here.  Until she comes up with a plan for how she can use me.

Carapace: If you want to help, we can always work to protect Adrien Agreste.

Carapace opens his arms wide and tries to give a disarming smile, but he can’t help but show his underlying malice.

Carapace: If you know anything at all, I'm all ears!  Even if it's something you need to keep on the down low, I can be your confidant.  I'm a hero, after all!  You can trust me to keep secrets.

Catwalker, completely uninterested in going through another round of ‘my best friend pretends to like me when I know he’s secretly mad at me’ points his finger in accusation.

Catwalker: I see what you're trying to do and I'm not going to fall for it.

Carapace: Whaaat?  I'm not trying anything!

Catwalker: Nino.

Carapace: How did—I mean, who's Nino?

Catwalker: You forgot to tell Adrien that he shouldn't reveal secret identities to anyone.

Carapace, completely off put, tries to make this new bit of information add up.

Carapace: He told you about me?  Why would that even come up?  Unless...  Did he tell you he had a superhero for a best friend to try and convince you he didn't need you?

Carapace points an accusatory finger at Catwalker. Catwalker tries to placate, but he’s distracted by a burst of red light in the distance in the direction of the other heroes.

Carapace: And then you forced him to leave when he didn't want to and—

Catwalker: You have it all wr—Oh no.

Oni-Chan rapidly teleports between temporary heroes (all of whom had just been staring towards the giant face of Adrien) and hits them with her sword in quick succession: Vesperia, Viperion, King Monkey, Purple Tigress, Polymouse, Pegasus, and Pigella are all frozen before they can do anything to fight back.

Oni-Chan: You!  Won't!  Get!  In!  My!  Way!  Anymore!

Oni-Chan lunges for Ladybug, but she manages to swing out of the way with her yo-yo and escape, unable to be tracked because she was the only member of the group who hadn’t been staring at Adrien’s face.

Catwalker: Come on!  Ladybug needs our hel—

Catwalker leaps into the sky to follow Ladybug, but as he is in midair, a green sphere forms around him.

Carapace: Shell-ter!

After the sphere hits the ground, Catwalker looks up at Carapace, who stands at the edge on top of the nearest building tauntingly.

Catwalker: I don't want to fight you.

Carapace: Good!  Because you won't be able to fight anyone!

Catwalker: Look, we're both heroes right now.  We need to be able to work together to help Ladybug.

Inside the sphere, Catwalker kneels and looks down dejectedly.

Carapace: Ladybug doesn't want your help!

Catwalker: Maybe not right now, but—

Carapace: Why did you think she sent you so far out of her way?  She can't even stand to look at you!  No one needs you.  No one wants you.  You should just give up your miraculous and save us the troub—

Carapace’s attention is caught by something happening across the skyline of Paris: with the Agreste mansion at the epicenter, a flurry of black ribbons launches into the sky, each one racing toward a Find Adrien billboard.  Where each ribbon touches, the place where Adrien’s picture should be has been replaced by an empty white void.

Carapace (to himself): What the...?  ...the Adrien billboards...  All the pictures of Adrien...  He's gone.

Carapace points down at Catwalker accusingly and brings his shield in close.

Carapace: Why couldn't you have just done nothing and let his real friends help him?  Some magic ribbons just wiped Adrien from existence!

Catwalker: That's impossible.  A sentimonster probably just got rid of the Adrien ads.

Carapace: You don't get it!  He exists nowhere!  And I'll prove it!

Carapace uses his shield to navigate to the pictures on his phone.  His hand touches at the shield when it displays a picture of Nino and Adrien smiling together, nothing erased.

Carapace: I'll show you how this picture of the two of us is—

Catwalker: Wait.  Carapace, you need to drop it.  Now.

Carapace (to himself): Huh...?

Catwalker: Adrien is alive, I promise—

Carapace (to himself): He's still here with me...?

Catwalker: —but she's going to find you if you keep looking—

Oni-Chan pops in and out of existence just long enough to stab Carapace in the back, sending his body off the edge of the building.  Below them, Catwalker looks up and destroys the sphere around him.

Oni-Chan: Begone!

Carapace: Ack!

Catwalker: No!  Cataclysm!

Catwalker leaps into the air, arms reaching towards Carapace’s petrified body, all while the shield Carapace dropped in the commotion falls next to them.

Catwalker: I've got you!

Catwalker tearfully embraces the frozen Carapace from behind.

Catwalker: I am so sorry.  For everything.

Catwalker continues to hug Carapace tight as a flood of emotions spews forth.

Catwalker: I never wanted to hide behind a mask, especially not with you, Nino.  You've always encouraged me to be myself.  Even though I've never been able to fully show you everything I am, you accepted the 'me' I could give.  It meant so much to know that you cared, not just about the idea of me, but the real me.  And now I'm less 'me' than I've ever been.  Maybe it would have been better if I did nothing. But when she tried to kill me, I just... ran.  Ran and insisted I was fine like I always do.  And now you're the one paying for my rash decisions and I feel so powerless to stop it.  I hope one day you'll forgive me.

Catwalker places Carapace’s body upright and touches his back in a gesture of farewell.

Catwalker: I wish I could talk to you for real.  But I can't.  I can't leave when I might be needed.  Even if everyone hates that I'm here, I've got to help however I can.

Catwalker gives Carapace a fist bump in one final promise of their friendship.

Catwalker: I'll come home as soon as it's safe again.  I don't know how long it'll take, but I promise I will come back.

Below is the same image as above, only without text:

#runaway catwalker #catwalker #carapace #oni-chan #akuma #ladybug #viperion #happy new year y'all #you have no idea how many obstacles got in the way of finishing this page #but finally it's done #now onto the *next* part of this akuma fight...

[veliseraptor]

So that latest Zelkam art of the core transfer has been sucking my brain out of my head all night. And now I can't stop thinking of how much JC's inherited that he never wanted or knew: Zidian (mother), the core (brother), Jin Ling (sister), Suibian (brother x2). I'd include the Jiang name and clan if I wanted to include his father. And it hurts me. He's left with so many remnants of his loved ones and yet how hollow does he feel? How unloved? Answers surely depend on post/canon timeline but idk. I'm just wrecked. *dies quietly*

I have a lot of Feelings about the ways in which Jiang Cheng really does just keep getting handed inheritances he doesn't want to have. People keep giving him things (in a material and metaphorical sense), but it doesn't seem like the give him things as an uncomplicated gift but as this enormous, weighty thing that comes with an immense price. "Here, take my life," people keep saying to Jiang Cheng, "take this and my death with it." And the hideous irony of the core transfer is that that's true even when Jiang Cheng himself tries to give his own life for the people he loves, only with the result that Wei Wuxian turns right around and gives up his own to "fix" it.

But yeah! His mother bequeaths him Zidian in the process of sending him away while she dies. Wei Wuxian dies and leaves him with a flute and a sword he doesn't want. Jin Ling...it's not that he doesn't want Jin Ling, he always would have wanted to be in his life, but not like this. oh I know I'm going to do the thing I do and quote my own fic

You, me, and a-Cheng, said a-jie’s voice in his ear. We must stay together, and never separate.

He’d never learned how to let go, but he’d been the one left behind anyway.

for someone who is in a lot of ways defined by the way that he holds on to the past, for better or worse (and I don't think it's all bad! his success rebuilding Jiang Sect is I think owed in part to his drive to never let what happened to it before to happen again), he does keep end up being the one left, and left holding mementos and reminders that are just a constant chafing reminder of what he lost.

it really adds something fun and spicy too to the bit during the second siege of the Burial Mounds, both in the novel and in CQL:

Jin Ling had never seen so many fierce corpses before, much less at such a close distance. He could feel his scalp tingle, and clenched Suihua's hilt. Yet, suddenly, his fist was peeled open, and a cold object was stuffed inside. He looked down in surprise. "Jiujiu?"

Jiang Cheng propped himself up with Sandu, which had lost its spiritual energy. His figure wavered slightly. "Try losing Zidian, just see what happens!"

[...] When Jin Ling saw that all of the people his age had rushed over, he couldn't hold himself back either. When Jiang Cheng was distracted, he stuffed Zidian back into his hand and sprinted toward the front... (Chapter 80, trans. Exiled Rebels)

The way it's acted here in particular it feels very much like Jin Ling at least has a sense of how loaded this gesture is, whatever Jiang Cheng says about giving it back. Here he is! Continuing the chain of just passing down things as a legacy that in no way substitute for the person they stand for.

just to set those screenshots alongside this:

there's something I think to Jiang Cheng that's not just incredibly painful in all the obvious ways about the core transfer, but specifically in the way that it's related to a sacrifice he very deliberately made - and now he finds out that not only was that sacrifice ultimately utterly pointless, or worse than pointless, the person he originally made it for made it so. It's this "oh, you can sacrifice yourself for me but I can't do the same for you?" that's so bitter to feel, both because I do think there's some amount of "why do you always, always get to come out of things the hero" but more than that, "why did you do this when I made my decisions specifically to protect you; does my desire to protect you not matter? doesn't it mean anything?"

Jiang Cheng standing with his hands full of memorials going "I don't want these," because what he actually wanted was his family, but the world kept taking them away, and apparently in at least one case his family actively didn't get the memo.

#conversating #apprenticedmagician #been a while since jiang cheng feelings but here we still are! #jiang cheng #the sad queer cultivators show

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 2

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

oboes are fuckin' expensive. much to you and your brother's dismay, the school is making you pay for the damages instead of your newfound enemy. oh, and his dad wants you to tutor his daughters!

pt. 1 pt.3

content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, mean leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2252 words

song rec: "the mercy of the wind" by million eyes

still on the slower side, but alas.

"Ms. (L/n)? They're asking for you at the guidance office," Mr. Kay coughs during our water break. I look up at him, confused for a moment, but I realize it was most likely to talk about that awful interaction that happened before this period between Damien, Leon, and me.

"Oh... Oka-"

"Let me go with her, Mr. Kay," Sammy demands, setting her flute down in her case beneath her seat. Before the director can say anything, the ravenette drags me by the sleeve of my shirt out of the door. She's got this pout on her lips, and I know that she's still angry.

"I can't believe that fuckin' asshole just thought it was a good idea to drop your oboe like that!" She fumes. I swear I can steam come out of her ears as she grumbles profanities about the ace soccer player. "Y'know, you'd think that he knows how expensive those things can be since he has two sisters in band, but nnooooo, he just had to go on 'n do that to you, huh? I'll show him...!"

"Sammy, it's fi-" The five-foot-nine beauty stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to face me and slam her palms onto my shoulder.

"Sugar, it's not fine," she sighs, seeing how shocked I looked. "That oboe is your baby. You can beat up your trumpet as much as you want, but that oboe is what's gettin' you into college," she reminds me. I look down at the toes of my converse, a bit embarrassed by how I was so easily putting off my emotions. I feel Sammy give my cheek a soft caress with her thumb.

"Don't lie to yourself and put Kennedy in a shinin' light. He did something awful to you, and that's a fact. Me 'n your brother are gunna make him pay hell," the girl assures me, and I nod at her words.

"Thank you, Sammy... I'm glad you love me enough to tell me I'm being an idiot," I chuckle dryly. She slaps my shoulder softly.

"That's what best friends are for, (Y/n)!" Sammy gives me a comforting smile, and we begin walking again. The journey is a bit long considering the band room is on the opposite end of the high school, but it was fun because of how Sammy described the most grotesque ways of torturing the new boy in town. Eventually, we made it to the guidance office, and inside was my counselor, my older brother, and the devil incarnate.

"Ah, there you are," my conselor, Ms. Penelope smiles. She nods at Samantha, and I figure she's okay with my friend being here. I sit down awkwardly between Leon and Damien, shrinking in my spot to take up as little space possible. My best friend sits next to Damien, furthest away from the ex-Greenvale resident. The silence is deafening, and I feel as if I could cut the tension with a knife.

"So..." Ms. Penelope clears her throat, resting her dainty hands atop her desk. "I think we all know why you three are in here," she motions towards the boys and me. Damien grunts, and Leon is dead silent. I decide to speak up.

"How will my oboe be repaired?" I question. I see Ms. Penelope's expression turn a bit somber. Through gritted teeth, she responds.

"Well, I had asked some other people before I called you in, and they said it would be best not to penalize Mr. Kenne-"

"What.," Damien and Sammy eyes narrowed as they spoke in unison. I hear Leon stifle a giggle, and my brother immediately stands up, about to pounce.

"Don't fucking laugh, you piece of shit!" He roars, fist tight at his sides. "That thing was hard-earned, dipshit!"

"Mr. (L/n), sit down, now!" Ms. Penelope gasps.

"Please," Leon scoffs. "Nothing from your family is hard-earned. As far as I know, you bribed your coach to be team captain. It's too bad that money's all wasted, Dami-poo~ I'm here now," the blonde smiles devilishly, and I see my brother is getting ready to rip his throat out.

"You little-!"

"Boys! Settle down, please! You are not making this situation any better," Ms. Penelope orders. Like a kicked puppy, Damien retreats back into his seat, crossing his arms beneath his chest like a child being scolded by his mother.

"Ugh, Ms. Penelope, this doesn't make any sense. That was an advanced-level instrument. If (Y/n) can't get it repaired or replaced soon, she won't have anything to play for our concert season," Samantha said, trying to reason. "Surely he can pitch in a little money. This is his fault, after all."

"I'm sorry... I have no control over this. If I had it my way, I'd have him pay in full, but it was a request from our principal. The best I could do was have a fundraising event approved for your band," the brunette woman explain, her frown worsening.

"Great. Can I leave now? My study hall is about to end, and I've got an English class to catch," Leon yawned out, the sleeve of his Greenvale High letterman straightening as he stretched. Ms. Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly irritated dealing with ignorant high schoolers.

"Yes, yes. Go 'head, Mr. Kennedy," she eagerly dismisses him. Immediately, he saunters out the door of her office, seemingly very happy with himself. The door shuts with a click, and it's just us four left. Tears begin to swell in the corner of my eyes.

"Erm... So, w-what's the fundraiser going to b-be?" I stutter out, not wanting to show weakness. The counselor hands me a slip of paper.

"I recommended a bake sale. It's simple, and I know our little town never says no to a sweet treat, especially with how nice the weather's been recently," she smiles gently at me, and I feel my heart squeeze. Samantha takes the pink sheet out of my hands and grins from ear to ear.

"Thanks, Ms. Penelope. I'll be telling our director about this. Is that all you needed from us?" Sammy asks, standing up from her spot. The brunette shakes her head as a no and has us leave her alone. Damien sighs when the door closes behind us, and I can tell he wants to blow up. I take his hand in mine, softly squeezing it.

"You okay, Dami?" I frown. He looks at me, clearly distraught.

"I guess..." he huffs. "I just wish he were dead," his eyes narrow, and I know he's thinking about Leon.

"Tch, you 'n me both," Sammy clicks her tongue.

"You gunna be okay, sis? I can get Ma to pick you up if you need," Damien asks me, worried. I think for a moment, and I nod as a yes. It's a Friday anyways, and there won't be any games until two weeks. Sammy leaves Damien and me on our own, deciding to get back to the band room to retrieve my belongings. My dear big brother takes me to the front off and requested the desk-lady to call our mom. After a bit, he left me with a chaste kiss on my forehead and told me to wait for Mom and Samantha.

I sat alone in the office, patiently waiting for my mom with my broken oboe in my lap.

"Hey, (Y/n)? Can you come down here for a second?" I hear Mom call from the bottom of the stairs. I slug myself out of the bed, not wanting to leave my room. My slippers drag against the floor as I slump down the stairs, wanting to get this over with and just sleep for the rest of the day. We don't have dinner until an hour or two, so I'm curious as to why Mom would call me down so early. When I make it down the stairs, I see Mom sitting in the living room with a familiar man, happily talking to him.

"She's had a bit of a rough day, so give her a moment," I hear her tell him. I walk in, still in my school clothing. My fingers fiddle with the fabric of my shirt as I sit down next to my mother, looking at the man confused.

It's Leon's dad...

"Honey, this is Mr. Kennedy. He wants to ask you a favour," Mom sets a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly. I swallow dryly, a tight feeling in my chest as I stare at the blonde man across me. His hair is slicked back, dressed in black dress pants, and a maroon button-up. His eyes are a gentle chocolate brown, a stark difference compared to his son's harsh and icy hues. Mr. Kennedy nods at me, smiling gently.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/n)," he grins at me. "I got a suggestion from my little ones' band directors about private lessons for trumpet. I was wondering if you were perhaps interested? I'm willing to pay you 20$ an hour if so," he asks me, crossing his legs. My eyes widen at his price.

"O-oh, uhm...!?" I bite my bottom lip, unsure of what to say. I shoot a look at my mom to my left, silently begging for guidance. She gives me only a reassuring smile, and I look back at Mr. Kennedy.

"Well?"

"Uhm... sure," I cough. "Is it alright if they're after school every Monday, Tuesday, and some Friday nights? I would like her to have some experience with our marching band as well, if you're both okay with it," I ask him. He thinks for a moment before nodding.

In the end, we agree with the schedule. Every Monday and Tuesday, his daughters will come over to practice with me. For Fridays, they'll only accompany during home football games to get some experience playing more advanced pep-tunes, but only if they want to. I tried to tell him that 20$ an hour was a bit much, but he insisted, claiming that his daughters can be rowdy. Eventually, he leaves, and I'm left alone with my mom in the kitchen to drink some tea. Slumping in my seat, I sigh annoyedly.

"Do you think he knows about my...?"

"Maybe," Mom murmurs as she washes dishes, sometimes looking at the stove to check on the boiling pasta. "But I'm assuming not," she hums, and I frown. I didn't have the heart to tell him his son is a heartless person, and it made me feel a bit worse than it should have. I leave the kitchen without another word, stumbling back into my room to cry a bit more...

It's sunny today.

"Oi, thumper, wake up," Damien raps at my bedroom door, opening it enough to poke his head in. I'm already up, sitting in my window nook while I look through some music I played in middle school to get ready for tutoring. I look up from the sheets, staring blankly at my brother.

"Ready?" I ask him. He looks surprised that I'm awake, but he nods.

"Mom's letting me take Pa's car today," my older brother smirks, dangling the silver keys in the air. I chuckle, knowing how much he loves Dad's little Impala. I get up from my spot in my plush nook, following Damien downstairs and out the door after we bid our parents goodbye. The two of us race to the car childishly, giggling all along as we throw ourselves into the noir Chevrolet. We settle into the cool leather seats, and I immediately pop on our cassette tape that’s stored in the center console. Immediately, Toto’s “Hold the Line” begins, and we begin to pull out of the driveway. As Damien hums along to the song, I look out of the window to my left.

Today, we’re going out to get a hand-me-down oboe from a local shop that is generous enough to give me one since I’m there so often. A little temporary deal until my personal one can be repaired or replaced. As we pull out of the drive way, I catch sight of the devil across the street.

He’s sitting on the porch, and I’m confused as to how I didn’t notice him before. In Leon’s lap is what looks like a guitar, and he’s got this ugly scowl on his face as he glares at us from his home.

“What an ugly bastard,” Damien white-knuckles the wheel, glaring at him through the rearview. I glance over to my brother, seeing his brows furrow as he stares down the blonde boy across the street.

A large part of me wanted to defend Leon’s beauty. I know I should hate him, but he’s just so… charming. From the rearview, I notice how his hair is a little damp, and I assume he had showered this morning. His shirt is simply white, and I can’t see the rest of his outfit from the way he sat behind his porch. My fingers clutch the at fabric of my sleeves, holding myself back from saying something about Leon’s looks. We drive past the Kennedy household, and I can’t help but stare through the window.

Leon’s gaze pierces through the glass, and I feel myself shrink into my seat, my heart drumming against my ribcage as we lock eyes. His lips are formed in a straight line as his icy glare follows the Impala I rode in, and I can’t bring myself to look away.

Is it wrong to want to talk to him, despite what he did to me?

uhh its still slow but yk i think thats what will make it good or not i honestly just type out my scrambled thoughts and hope it works!

pt.3 here!

some lovelies⇁ @vampiramaeve @kurawooooooo @umooooo74 @estre11afugaz

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil/biohazard #biohazard #angst #mild angst #slowburn #leon s kennedy x reader #high school au #>>high school sweethearts: lsk

[azrielhours]

Starry Eyes

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol but nothing crazy. kinda cheesy writing

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: It’s Solstice, reader gets clingy w Azriel when she’s tipsy but he loves it. He tries to keep her awake to see Starfall but she’s falling asleep. He takes care of her and takes her to her room when she drifts off. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Some Spymaster, huh?” Feyre mused to Rhys under her breath, leaning into him to be discreet. Rhys glanced over at his brother who was sitting on the couch, his full, undivided attention upon you. Whether Azriel was letting his guard down due to the gradual intoxication of his friends around him on Solstice or because he simply didn’t care, it was still quite the sight for him to wear his heart on his sleeve so comfortably. He was seated on one end of the couch with his body turned fully to face you, his posture shamelessly relaxed, a contented grin on his lips. He was listening to you go off on one of your various drunken rambles.

You weren’t timid by any means, but you did have some shy tendencies around him specifically. Despite that slight reservation, the two of you always gravitated towards each other, silently seeking each other out in group settings, sitting beside each other during meals, volunteering to go on missions together. It was incredibly entertaining for the rest of the IC, of course, to see the two of you wander towards each other and then have so few words to say. Unsurprisingly, there have been many bets placed on the pair of you about who will fold first and take that leap of faith beyond friendship. Until then, it was lovely entertainment from the sidelines.

Azriel typically left the love for alcohol to Mor and Cassian, but Azriel has come to appreciate the lessened inhibition that came with your occasional drinking. He was endeared by your shy nature around him, especially because he mirrored that sentiment, but when you drank, he had the opportunity to see an uninhibited side of you that absolutely clung to him. He could only hope that one day you would feel this comfortable and open with him without needing the liquid courage, but for now he settled for the short-lived windows of it that came on holidays.

“So the exam had a question about an earthquake that had happened two days before, which is absurd because why would anyone anticipate a question about one so recent anyways? And then he had the audacity to tell us all ‘Happy Solstice’ afterwards, like he didn’t just ruin the holidays for us with that test.” You were gesturing enthusiastically as you told your story to him, eyes wide and bright, and he was nodding along, gaze unfaltering from your face. If you caught him looking at you like that sober, with such softness and adoration in his eyes, you may have walked into a wall in fluster. “Anyways, that was a horrible introduction to geology, but it makes for a good story.” You beamed at him and began moving closer on the couch to where he was politely seated, not touching you. You wrapped your arms around his arm and laid your head on his shoulder, his brows shooting up in surprise and a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Sorry for rambling, Az.”

“Don’t be sorry, I love your stories,” he reassured. You reached for his hand and grasped it in both of yours, and he let you.

“You have the warmest hands, you know.” You began to speak more softly, the drink making you sleepy.

“You’re cold?”

“Little bit. I thought champagne was supposed to make you feel warm.” You opened your eyes and began reaching for your flute on the table nearby.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you need any more of that.” You stopped and turned to face him with a frown.

“You think I had too much?”

“No, but if you have any more, you’ll miss the Starfall. We wouldn’t want you to fall asleep first, would we?” He spoke to you gently.

“No, we wouldn’t,” you shook your head in agreement. He laughed at the seriousness in your expression, breaking your eye contact before his chest ached. He couldn’t help his wide smile. When you got like this, he felt so intoxicated by you that he rarely bothered to drink. “Okay, Az. Be a dear and don’t let me fall asleep, then.” You placed your head on his shoulder again, closing your eyes. He was still chuckling.

“And how am I supposed to keep you awake?” he mused.

“Mmm… You tell me, you’re the big smart Spymaster, aren’t you?”

He felt like a fool, not being able to speak without that smile on his lips, even when your eyes are closed, and you couldn’t see it. “Okay, I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry.” He couldn’t lie, he also didn’t want you to stop leaning on his shoulder, to stop embracing him so comfortably, like you felt safe.

Just when he thought you drifted off, you softly said, “you’re so sweet, Az. An angel.” His heart skipped a beat, and that faded the smile off his face. You thought he was the angel here?

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” he asked softly, his voice gruffer than he anticipated. You giggled, nuzzling closer to him and shushed him. “The only angel here is you.”

“Be quiet. What I say goes, and I say you are an angel.” You smiled though your eyes stayed closed.

Though he wholeheartedly disagreed, he couldn’t deny you anything you wanted. If only to let you win, he didn’t say argue. You relished in the small victory and finally drifted off to sleep.

~

“[Y/N],” someone said gently, squeezing your fingers in warm hands. “It’s time for the Starfall.”

“Hm?” you started to stir.

“Wake up for the Starfall.” Azriel.

“I’m awake.”

He chuckled. “Then why are your eyes still closed?” you could hear that smile on his mouth. It made you smile back.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all under control.”

He laughed softly but got up gently to allow you to reorient yourself as you awoke. When you went to stand, he outstretched both of his hands to you, which you took without a second thought. You took his arm and let him guide you to the balcony to watch the stars fall. You didn’t let go of his arm even when you stood, and you leaned even closer to him, which he allowed.

“Are you still cold?” he asked.

“No,” you said softly. He looked down and found that you had closed your eyes again. The stars began to fall then.

“Open your eyes for me,” he said softly, not wanting you to miss the sight, though he didn’t move his gaze from your face. You did as he asked, watching the stars fall, and he continued to watch you, the stars in your eyes, the wonder and contentment in them. He was taking in how relaxed you looked with him, and more of your body weight slumped into him as you let yourself take in the moment. You eventually turned to look at him, catching his focused gaze, and you smiled brightly at him. The stars continued to fall around you, but the two of you couldn’t take your eyes off each other. Azriel’s throat bobbed slightly. Angel, you had called him before. Yet here you were, rivalling the stars in his eyes. You continued to gaze at him, feeling such a warmth in your chest that you didn’t notice your eyes closing again until you felt the hardness of his chest against your cheek. Your friends’ delighted laughter and the music were in the background, but all you could hear was Azriel’s heart, feel his arms slowly come around you. “Let’s get you to bed,” you felt his smooth voice rumble against your cheek. You simply nodded, not wanting to open your eyes. He leaned down and scooped you up into his arms, and he began walking back inside while the stars continued to fall behind him.

By the time he made it to your room, you had all but drifted back asleep, clinging to him around his neck. He walked over to your bed and gently laid you down. Once he released you, he began to rise, but your hold on his neck tightened, preventing him from leaving. “Stay,” you murmured sleepily. His cheeks burned, heart rate increased.

“I can’t, sweetheart,” he said gently, bracing his arms on either side of your head to support himself while your vice grip around his neck continued to pull him down.

“Why not?”

“It’s not right.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you quipped. He laughed again, and you smiled with your eyes closed. “I’m sober.”

He smiled. “Sure you are.”

“Please.” His heart panged, never wanting to deny you a thing. You had him wrapped around your fingers. He didn’t say anything, and you opened your eyes but didn’t let up the grip around his neck. “Please, Az.” You pouted.

He took a deep breath and nodded, to which you closed your eyes again in contentment and let him out of your arms. He covered you with the blanket and made his way around your bed, laying on top of the covers. You snuggled into his side, exhaling happily. He absolutely beamed in adoration as he watched you. He waited for you to fall soundly asleep before begrudgingly untangling himself from your hold. He could only imagine your embarrassment if you woke up tomorrow to find he had stayed, despite how badly he wanted to. One day, he thought to himself. Once that line was crossed between the two of you, he would never leave your side. Stars continued to fall outside, lighting the world with brilliance, but there wasn’t a sight more beautiful to him than you in your peaceful state. He finally turned to leave the room with that sense of intoxication in his veins, stardust on his shoulders, your starry eyes on his mind, and his heart on his sleeve.

Part 2

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acosf #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #cassian #rhys #feyre #azriel angst

[woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh]

All BMC Hidden Song Motifs

These are all the little tunes I’ve noticed sneakily (or not so sneakily) appearing outside of their own songs in the show! 

I did leave out the ones that are obviously the same because they repeat the lyrics (e.g. c-c-c-come on, it’s from Japan, etc), but I can add those too if enough people want.

If you have more, tell me and I'll add them! And if you have thoughts on why any of these appear where they do, pls post about it so I can read more meta sdjlkfsdjflk

More Than Survive:

Smartphone Hour chorus on synth during Jenna, Brooke, Chloe’s conversation [credit: @zabala0z]

Michael in the Bathroom chorus on synth during Jeremy & Michael’s conversation 

The Pants Song: chorus melody on guitar when Michael talks about "survival of the fittest" [credit: @aqueous-aerolite - tysm for IDing it!]

(Broadway) MTS reprise

Jeremy’s Theme at the end

Two Player Game

In scene: Michael in the Bathroom chorus on synth during their first exchange (“He’s scamming you super weirdly.”)

The Squip Enters

The Squip Song melody on synth right before the SQUIP appears: Helps you to be cooooool…. It helps… youuuu… [“Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor! Your SQUIP.”] ~~Ruuuuuuuule!~~

(Two Rivers) More Than Survive Reprise

Michael in the Bathroom on synth while the Squip scolds Jeremy for thinking about sex. (Still mostly inexplicable, but it’s technically a reuse of the dialogue music from More Than Survive, of which the only synth options were Smartphone Hour and Michael in the Bathroom.)

Michael’s reggae motif from More Than Survive at “Still not gonna be the cool guy”

(Broadway) Sync Up

The Squip Song: intro guitar riff plays when Rich talks to Jeremy

More Than Survive: MTS background chorus sings (‘na na na na na na na na’) with “ah”s in the musical interlude, then with “na”s at the end.

Guy that I’d Kinda Be Into

I Love Play Rehearsal: “I don’t always relate to other people my age” section is the same as “Most people do one thing for all of their lives” - the following lines match lyrics too.

More Than Survive: Christine’s bassline rhythm from the recurring motif of “Christine Christine Christine” (i.e. dotted quarter, eighth, half), originally from MTS, reappears during GTIKBI in the chorus, as well as the “I don’t always relate…” and “I guess a part of me likes to” sections.

Loser Geek Whatever

Two Player Game: the intro (“I already know what it’s like to be the loser”) is sung to the same melody as the main synth loop you can hear at the beginning of 2PG [credit: someone on the Genius page]

Touching My Hand: Not technically a motif, but I want to point out that the pre-chorus of LGW comes from Touching My Hand, a demo song that never made it into the show.

Michael in the Bathroom

(?) Knocking section could kind of evoke the staccato quarters that happen all throughout Halloween (eg, crank! the! bass!, and dunh dunh dunh it's halloween)

The Pants Song

(Broadway) “Michael in the Bathroom” on guitar when Michael says “Look, I already tried to help him, and called me a loser…” (THIS is hands down my favorite one btw. It’s one of the most obvious but that doesn’t stop it from stabbing me in the heart every time…)

The Play

Be More Chill: bass & guitar riff play when the Squip’s revealing its plan to infect humanity.

Jake enters: Jeremy’s Theme, then Upgrade

Chloe & Brooke enter: Do You Wanna Ride

Michael makes an ennnntraaaaance! (Michael in the Bathroom)

Two Player Game: pre-chorus during Michael and Jeremy’s fight (“kung fu fists, activate!”)  - and of course again the verse during their fight for the Dew.

Jenna enters: Smartphone Hour (the opening brass thumps)

Christine enters: I Love Play Rehearsal on flute - then she sings an altered version of GTIKBI

“Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy” is the same tune as “Christine, Christine, Christine.” (This one makes me go nuts actually. Like, that’s his deepest desire??? He just wants someone to love him as powerfully as he loves Christine????? AUUGH!!!!)

Loser Geek Whatever: verse melody plays on brass when he gives the Dew to Christine

Voices in My Head

Loser Geek Whatever: verse melody on piano during Christine and Jeremy’s conversation.

Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into: When Christine gives her answer about going out with him, they sing to the GTIKBI chorus melody, and a flute plays the GTIKBI bridge melody  (“I guess a part of me likes to”). Then when Christine says yes, it plays that bridge melody on piano.

ALSO: Overall character instruments?

Christine: flute & mallet percussion (i.e. glockenspiel, xylophone)

SQUIP: plucked guitar with tremolo, tubular bells. Edit: also the theremin [credit: @highlighter-goblin!]

(?) Rich: strummed guitar with distortion (Squip Song, Sync Up)

(?) Chloe & Brooke: plucked guitar with a Wah-wah pedal (DYWR/H)

(?) Jenna: low brass on staccato quarter notes

Yeah that's all I know of so far, but like I said please add on if you can think of more!!

#be more chill #bmc #jeremy heere #michael mell #im just tagging those two bc main character and guy whose motif plays like EVERY OTHER SONG #posts #text #ref #meta #like the littlest amount of meta i guess #everyone #my meta

[lucienarcheron]

Ok but expanding on the wingman idea - I wish you would write a fic where the women of Prythian come together to make Elain see reason. Picture this they’re all at some big party with all the courts, and Lucien is BUSY. Elain’s watching while the man is dancing with Nuan, Cressida, Vassa, oh what’s this? Feyre wants a turn with her old friend? Ok that makes sense- wait…Nesta?? But she doesn’t even like him?? Meanwhile Lucien’s just like 🧍‍♂️

Ohohohoho. Do I love this or what!

Elain is trying to ignore these weird... territorial feelings she's getting? Why? Why is she feeling this way? They don't...interact that way. He let her be, per her preference and Elain had certainly never given him any ideas that she felt otherwise.

Not that she'd been able to stop herself from thinking about him before bed. Or how he appears in her dreams. Or how she still hears his heartbeat. She would never tell anyone that she knows exactly when he sets foot in Velaris and is hyperaware of him at all times. No one needed to know that.

He was friends with Feyre. Of course, they'd dance together. She didn't need to pay attention to how they laughed. Or how smooth of a dance he was. Of course, he'd dance with Vassa, they were also close friends. They lived together and no, she was not feeling some kind of emotion associated with the color green at that thought. It was none of her business what he did or where he lived.

But those other women...who were they? Why was he so comfortable dancing with them? She could casually ask Feyre about it later but she didn't want to make her curiosity obvious...but Nesta? Dancing with Lucien?

Why? Since when did her older sister have a friendship casual enough that she danced with him?

Elain was barely thinking straight, running mostly on annoyance when she oh, so, casually bumped into him at the refreshments table and he apologized graciously as if she wasn't the one to bump into him.

"Giving yourself a much-needed boost after all that dancing?" she said, attempting humor but even to her own ears, her tone sounded tight.

Lucien only lifts a brow. "It has been a fun night with friends."

Elain hums, a finger tapping on the flute of champagne in her hand. "Yes, it seems like you're enjoying yourself."

"I am," he said, then tilted his head, watching her curiously. "Is there something I can assist you with, my lady?"

And Elain tried not to shiver at the term he always used with her. Always so polite. Always with manners. An awkward silence filled the space between them and Elain knew Lucien would always work on her pace. He would wait for her to initiate anything more than a conversation — as annoyingly respectful as he was.

Elain pursed her lips and before she could think too long about it, she knocked back the glass of champagne and cleared her throat.

"Are you going to ask me to dance?"

Lucien paused, a slight color staining his cheeks, and straightened. "I would've assumed you preferred I stayed away from you."

The next words slipped out before she could stop them. "I would not prefer that. Especially when you're dancing with every female in the room but me."

His lips twitched and Elain promptly wanted to die. She didn't even like him, right? Why did she care if he danced with her? Why was she even talking to him in such a public event?

But now she had brought attention to it and it seemed like she cared and oh gods, was everyone watching them? She felt herself turn more and more red by the minute, frowning.

"Nevermind. I —"

"I would be honored to dance with you," he said and Elain blinked at him as he watched her with amusement.

"Oh."

"Given that you're dying to dance with me."

"I'm not dying to —"

"Too late, you can't take it back now." he joked and Elain made a noise of protest until she saw the twitch of his lips. He was teasing her, that rake. "I just hope you can keep up."

Her eyes narrowed and suddenly her heart began to pump so very fast. She was going to dance with him. With her...mate. And maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the general atmosphere of the party, and yes — maybe it was because he was handsome and she wanted to show everyone else exactly how well she danced, that Elain lifted her head, jutting her chin in a challenge and said, "Let's hope you can keep up with me."

#elucien #elucien drabbles #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #this is unedited lol #gigi writes #gfics #asks #anon #they def have a drunk first smooch at this party btw