#so somewhere around this year they put me in this special list that the stores can have where the shifts are offered first

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

Heard this morning (27 March, 2023) A transcript for this piece is not yet up. They're usually up in a couple of days.

~3 minute listen.

This one right-to-repair law got through in just one state, because the lawmaker who introduced it narrowed its focus down from "The right of everybody to repair anything" (too many businesses to lobby against that) to "the right of wheelchair users to repair their own wheelchairs."

On the one hand it's great. On the other hand, it's a reminder of how marginalized we are in society.

Next thing to fight for: the right of farmers to repair their own farm equipment.

One state's gotten started. Forty-nine to go...

Transcript is now up. I've put the full thing under the cut.

MICHEL MARTIN, HOST:

Somewhere on your list of life's annoyances is probably this - manufacturers who won't let customers fix products themselves. Some states are pushing back with right-to-repair laws. Andrew Kenney from Colorado Public Radio visited with one of the first people to use a new right-to-repair law for powered wheelchairs.

(SOUNDBITE OF WHEELCHAIR WHIRRING)

ANDREW KENNEY, BYLINE: Bruce Goguen, who's 68, has used his powered wheelchair for so long that it feels like an extension of himself. He has multiple sclerosis, which affects his speech.

BRUCE GOGUEN: I just think of it as legs, as being my legs.

KENNEY: And that means when he got a new chair last year, every detail had to be right, like the speed of its different modes. His wife, Robin Bolduc, says each one of those adjustments required a visit from an authorized technician. It took weeks.

ROBIN BOLDUC: We would have to call someone, make an appointment, have them come out and say, gee, I'd like to change it so we're walking just a little bit faster.

KENNEY: On one of those visits, Robin realized that the technician wasn't using some specialized device to change the settings. It was a smartphone app. She even found it on the App Store, but it was only available for authorized users.

BOLDUC: Well, I want the app. And he was like, you can't have the app. But I want the app.

KENNEY: That would've been the end of the road, except that Robin and Bruce knew that Colorado's new wheelchair right-to-repair to repair law had just gone into effect. Representative Brianna Titone is the sponsor of the new law. Back in 2021, she originally proposed a much broader bill that would've applied to computers, cellphones and more. That meant an uphill fight against lobbyists for everything from hospitals to tech giants.

BRIANNA TITONE: So I did not win that fight. I lost that fight pretty bad. So that's why the following year, we pared it back to the people who really deserve to have this right. And that were the people who were in wheelchairs.

TITONE: The narrower, wheelchair-focused law passed the legislature last year with the help of advocates like Bruce and Robin. Once it went into effect on New Year's Day, Robin called the manufacturer to demand access to their app.

BOLDUC: They were not prepared. Right. Which - understandably, we're the only state. And it was day one, right? So they were not prepared.

KENNEY: In a committee hearing last year, Tonya Hammatt of National Seating and Mobility, a wheelchair vendor, warned state lawmakers that power wheelchairs are too complex for DIY jobs.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)

TONYA HAMMATT: This bill will allow anyone to perform complex repairs to power wheelchairs, which may lead to negative outcomes for the end user.

KENNEY: But after Robin showed Bruce's wheelchair's maker the text of the law, they agreed, sending out two staffers to get the family set up with the internal software.

BOLDUC: They gave me the code to get into the app. We played around. We programmed.

KENNEY: The couple have been tweaking the wheelchair's different modes, searching for the perfect speed for Robin to jog alongside Bruce or the right settings for a steep walking trail.

GOGUEN: It's wonderful. It's very wonderful.

KENNEY: And their success could have broader effects. They've been told the manufacturer is working on a public-facing app for everyone else who wants to use it. The company didn't respond to a request for comment. Meanwhile, right-to-repair laws are gaining momentum around the country, says Kevin O'Reilly of the advocacy group PIRG.

KEVIN O'REILLY: We think that this first bill was the crack in the dam that we needed.

KENNEY: That includes a new bill from Representative Titone that guarantees similar rights for farmers to repair their increasingly high-tech tractors and other equipment. It's poised to clear the state legislature in a matter of weeks. For NPR News, I'm Andrew Kenney.

(SOUNDBITE OF EDAPOLLO'S "BY THE RIVER")

#right to repair #wheelchairs #npr morning edition #colorado

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1156: Nightly Christmas Shopping Around Southtown (King of Fighters)

6:45 p.m. at Southtown's Stanfield Mall: Clothes Store........

Rock: So that's what a onesie looks like, huh?

Shingo: (Happily Shows Off a Blue Colored Cat Onesie He's Currently Wearing in Front of the Dressing Room) Yep! Comes with various different sets and colors: cows, horses, elephants, lions, King of Dinosaurs, you name it and they're probably selling a few of them elsewhere. I'm thinking of getting another cat one for Leona-san for Christmas this year so we can match. Different colors though, I'm hoping Teal colors are still in stock.....

Rock: (Nodded in Agreement) Yeah, I can see her wearing something like that on her off days. You two would look more like a cuter pair than you are already.

Shingo: More like cuter trio. We can't forgive about Heather in the equation. Check it! (Presents Rock Another Onesie, Kitten Size)

Rock: (Chuckles Lightly) They actually cat sized onesies too?

Shingo: I know, crazy right? I just found out about it after I left the house. It's looks so adorable~ (Presents Rock a Wolf Onesie in his Other Hand) I even got you cool wolf one if you ever wanna join in on the club.

Rock: (Smiles Sheepishly) I'll.....give it some thought later, bud.

Few Minutes Later at the Candy/ Sweets Shop

Rock: (Picks Up a Tall Looking Candy Cane From Out of a Barrel) How about we give the girls this candy cane? It's nothing too special, but I have no doubt she'll enjoy it regardless.

Shingo: (Nodded in Agreement) Sounds good. (Shows Rock Four Chocolate Bars in his Hands) We could also give them these Willy Wonka's Chocolate Bars as a bonus, but we're gonna have a find a really clever hiding spot for all of them.

Rock: ('Sigh') That's easier said than done really. Kula has a nose of a bloodhound.

Shingo: ('Sigh') So does Naomi.......You think Terry still have that Mini Fridge of his?

Rock: Probably? I'll have to ask him tomorrow. But for now, let's try and hide them somewhere neither of their noses can find.

Shingo: Right.

Few Minutes Later at a Sunglasses Store

Rock: (Sighs While Looking for the Coolest Looking Sunglasses They Have in One Selection) I swear, of all the things he could want for Christmas this year, why does it have to be pair of sunglasses? (Turns to Shingo) Doesn't he already have enough of them back home or something?

Shingo: (Shrugs) Probably. Even then, that won't stop him from getting more.

Rock: (Forms a Bit of a Teasing Smirk at Shingo) Sounds like a certain someone else I know with notebooks.

Shingo: (Starts Pouting at Rock) Hey, at least I use my notebooks for strategic and research purposes. K' has a million sunglasses under his belt and I have YET to see him wear anything different than the one he's wearing now!

Rock: True, but you can't deny some similarities you guys have from each other

Shingo: ('Scoffs') Oh please. (Crosses his Arms Together While Turning Away) I'm way more mature and proactive than that mopey, lazy bones wishes he would be!.....(Slowly Turns Back to Rock) D-Don't tell him I said any of that, okay?

Rock: Help me bake a few treats for the party in a few days and I'll pretend this conversation even happen. (Put his Hand Out)

Shingo: (Gives Rock an Agreement Handshake) Deal.

Few Minutes Later at the Pet Shop Store

Rock: (Looks Down at Some of the Items He Got inside the Basket He's Carrying) Okay. I got one two marten plushies for Itokatsu to play with, a star-shaped chew toy for Antoine and a mini Terry costume for Ukee to wear.

Shingo: You know, I always keep forgetting you guys used to have monkey for a pet.

Rock: Yeah, it has been a while since we last saw him, but I heard from Uncle Andy that he's been doing great in hus and Aunt Mai's place as of late. Speaking of which.....(Pulls Out a List From his Coat Pocket) After we leave here, we gotta head to the Besuty Shop to get a hair spray for Aunt Mai, a Swan Soap for Mary, and a Sakura Flower hairpin for....(Clears his Throat a Bit While Blushing) Hotaru.....

Shingo: (Chuckles Lightly) D'awww~ You're buying your girlfriend a Christmas gift already?~

Rock: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes) Don't start. She told me was going to get me something days ago, so I figured I would try and return a flavor. I just hope there's still some more left in stock. Heard they ran out quicker this time of year.

Shingo: Then we'll just have to get it before anyone else does. Im sure sure it won't be that hard to do, right?

An Hour and a Half Later at the Beauty Shop

'Door Opens'

Rock and Shingo jumps out of the store in an exhausted state.

Rock: (Starts Panting Along with Shingo) Thank.....GOD.....we got out of there......

Shingo: Right!? It was like.....a freaking WARZONE in there!.....

Rock: And those perfumes.....Who idea was it spray them all over the place!?

Shingo: I dunno, man.....But those ladies in there.....REALLY weren't holding any punches at all.....

Rock: They didn't. (Pulls Something Out From Inside. Bag) But at least we got what we were looking this whole time- Ah dammit! I got the wrong flower!

Shingo: (Takes a Look at the Rose Shaped Hairpin Rock's Holding) Well, you can never go wrong with anything rose related.

Rock: ('Sighs Heavily') I guess....At least it's better than coming out here empty handed. I'm never going back in there for as long as I live.

Shingo: Neither will I. (Notices a Bench Sitting Right in Front of Them) Wanna go sit down for a bit? I'm too exhausted to walk now....

Rock: (Gets Himself Up From the Ground Before Helping Shingo Up Afterwards) Sure. We could use a bench break right now.

The duo makes their way to the bench and sit themselves down, exhaling plenty amount of relief from out of their systems.

Shingo: Don't know about you, Rock, but I think I might be done with Christmas shopping for now

Rock: The list is near completion, so we'll get more done in a day or two. Maybe have K' and Kula tag along next time around.

Shingo: I'm down with that motion. It'll give me more time to think about something special I wanna give you this year.

Rock: (Turns to Shingo) You don't have to go out of your way to do that for me, even if it is for the holidays.

Shingo: (Turns to Rock) I know, but you're the first new friend I've ever made since I've moved here. So I wanna show just how much I appericate you and our friendship so far, you know?

Rock: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness) I appericate you too, man. Our friendship alone is more than enough of a Christmas gift for me to have going forward.

Shingo: (Heart Starts Melting in Happiness as Well)

Rock: (Shrugs) Buuuut if you still insist on getting me something regardless, then I won't stop you. Just don't get me something too expensive, yeah?

Shingo: (Starts Smirking a Bit) Give me a hug and I'll get you cheapest looking jacket known to men.

Rock: (Chuckles Lightly) Sounds good to me! (Gives Shingo His Much Need Hug) Thank you.

Shingo: (Hugs Rock Back) No problem. Happy Holidays, Rock Howard Bogard.

Rock: You too, Shingo Yabuki. You too.

@thelexhex

@tampire

@albion-93

@theweebmaster31

#king of fighters #rock howard #shingo yabuki #leona (mentioned) #kula (mentioned) #k (mentioned) #hotaru (mentioned) #christmas shopping #pure friendship #fluff #humor #onesies #christmas month

[denim-mixtapes]

Nice List jim hopper

Hiiii thank you for requesting Hopper!! I haven't written anything for him yet because I wasn't sure if there was a demand, but back before season 3/4 he's the only person I read fic for in the ST fandom so I'm happy to get the chance!! I don't really know where this lines up with the canon. Probably somewhere in season 2 but??? Let's just pretend that canon doesn't exist anyway.

Picking out a Christmas Tree with Jim Hopper w/c: 676

Join the Christmas Party!

“Are you gonna tell me why you dragged me all the way out here, Hop?” 

You wring your cold hands together, willing away the shiver that follows as Hopper digs in the back of the pickup truck. 

“You said,” he grunts, fighting with something in the bed, a fierce metallic clunk interrupts his sentence. Pulling what you now recognize as a hacksaw free from the clutter, he huffs and continues, “you said you’ve never had a real Christmas tree.” 

“Oh.”

It’s all you can muster. Your heart cracks at the gesture, the fact that something small you mentioned in passing a few days ago led here, to the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Hawkins, surrounded by rows and rows of evergreen trees.

“Yeah, oh! Now come on, ’M already freezing.” 

He guides you up the first row of trees with a firm hand on your lower back. Something you’ve learned in your time living with Jim Hopper is that he’s a man of few words. He never has too much to say, and even when he does he struggles to say it. But that doesn’t mean he can’t find other ways to make his feelings known. In small gestures; a fresh pot of coffee before he leaves for work, or throwing your towel in the dryer so it’s nice and warm when you get out of the shower. Or in larger, more grand ones like this, he never fails to make you feel loved. 

“Do you have decorations already?” You ask, lacing your fingers with his and tugging along toward a tree that caught your eye. “I don’t remember you ever having a tree in the past, real or not.” 

He huffs a single, clipped laugh and shrugs, “I think I’ve got some lights out in the shed. Maybe. It’s, ah, been a while since I put one up, you’re right.” He didn’t need to tell you that the lights were leftover from Joyce’s predicament last year, or that the few ornaments he does have aren’t meant for the tree. Not anymore, they’re too special, handmade little things from Sara’s daycare and elementary school holiday parties, a My First Christmas ceramic teddy bear that he can’t bring himself to throw away. You can see his expression go blank at the thought, his hand tightening around yours ever so slightly, but don’t dare mention it.

Humming thoughtfully, you notice that the one that caught your eye has a bald spot in the back and move on. “Well then we’ll just have to start our own collection from scratch!” 

The smile that takes over his features is still a little guarded, but it’s warm despite his apprehension. “Yeah?” He asks, voice thick with emotion, and presses a kiss to your temple. His whiskers tickle against your hairline, cold nose pressing into your skin and sending another shiver down your spine. “I like the sound of that.” 

As you turn the corner to the next row of trees you spot the perfect one, and without thinking you drop his hand and run for it. “This one!” You shout, turning in place and bouncing on your toes. Your excitement is contagious, only encouraging a wider, joyous smile onto his face as he jogs to catch up. “This is it!” 

It’s picture perfect, almost as wide as it is tall, standing just a little taller than your head. The branches are full, evenly spread, and if you didn’t know any better you would say it was store bought. Fresh snow dusts it evenly, glittering in the winter sun.  

From behind Hopper engulfs you in his embrace, thick arms wrapping around your waist, careful of the blade in his hand. He rests his chin on your shoulder, “looks like a winner to me. This the one you want?” 

You don’t give a verbal response, only lean heavier back into his hold and nod. 

With another quick kiss pressed high on the apple of your cheek, he releases you and twirls the saw in hand with a flourish, “then it’s yours.”

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper/reader #hopper x reader #hopper/reader #hopper drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #1k celebration blurb

[softxsuki]

Hiya! Can I plz request a letter for your Valentine's Day event? 👉👈 I would really love one from 707, established relationship of at least a few years. And reader has had to make hard decisions about removing hurtful ppl from their life. Even when they were once family. The letter would be sent to provide comfort in a physical form and maybe to praise reader a bit for doing the hard work towards recovering. Maybe there is a gift with it, a keepsake. Comfort for the hardship of the past times, and promises of their life together, a home of love and laughter and safety. The 606 is fine for a nickname still (think that is what is was in the game, I am hoping to replay soon), other options maybe babe, or something sorta corny? Like the over-the-top-calling-you-this-cuz-i-love-you-and-we-tease-each-other sorta corny? And he left the letter somewhere reader would find it, but is not present while it is being read. Oh, umm, modern day setting works fine. I think/hope I got it all. P much I am hoping for something comforting I can save and keep w me. And thank you for doing this event!!! 🙏

707's Comforting Letter To His Lover

Valentine's Day Letter Event Pt.2 Masterlist (CLOSED)

Pairing: 707 x Gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of losing people in your life (who hurt you)

Genre: hurt comfort, fluff

Post-Type: Letter

Word Count: 530

Summary: In which Saeyoung leaves a letter for you in the morning to help comfort you through your situation of kicking people who hurt you out of your life.

[A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! I hope this provides you with some comfort and is enjoyable to read. I really have to replay mysme as well as play v and saeran's routes for the first time. It's been so long since I last played, but it's just such a commitment to make it for every chat room. Anyway, hope you enjoy <3]

You stared at the envelope on your nightside table along with the small necklace beside it. You smile to yourself, knowing it was probably something Saeyoung built himself.

The spot beside you in bed was empty when you awoke, only the envelope and whatever it was your boyfriend had made you remained. He was probably out on a mission or something–or perhaps just getting some food, who knows. 

You smile, picking his new invention up and opening it. It resembled a locket, but more modern. Inside was a picture of the two of you together. His arms wrapped around you as you kissed his cheek. Feeling all warm inside, you pick up the envelope, open it and read its contents;

My Dear 606,

Happy Valentine’s Day Agent! Another Valentine’s Day together to add to the list, I love it. I hope you like the locket I made. You can store any pictures from your phone on it and change them around whenever you want. I’ll show you how it works once I get back home. I had a quick secret mission to do this morning, I should be back soon. 

On a more serious note though, I know things haven’t been that great for you recently. You’ve had to say goodbye to a lot of people in your life that you cared about. Trust me, I know how that feels, but it was for the better. 

I don’t want to tell you to just get over it, because I know that’s not possible, but just know that I’m here for you okay? You’re my special partner in crime. My agent 606! Nothing can defeat an agent, never forget that.

But you’re so strong, Y/N…you manage to put on a brave face and fight through each day even though the pain of it all may be eating away at you inside. I’m so proud of you. 

There was nothing I could do about the people from your past, but I promise to always look after you from now on. This is our life and we’ll make it exactly as we want. I’ll make sure our lives are full of happiness, laughter, and protection–always. 

I hope you slept well <3 I should be back soon. Wait for me so we can eat breakfast together. I love you.

Your Agent,

707

Your chest felt light after reading his words. Simple, yet effective at making you feel so much better. You couldn’t wait to hug him upon returning. Perhaps you could even get a head start and make breakfast as his little Valentine’s Day surprise.

So you get to work; throwing the locket around your neck and putting his letter in a safe space, you make your way to the kitchen where you begin planning a romantic breakfast for the two of you. 

Hurry back agent 707, breakfast will get cold. You text him.

Around the corner agent 606. Keep my spot warm! <3 He responds.

He sure knew how to get you smiling. Putting your phone away, you continue to cook, pouring every ounce of love for your boyfriend into the food.

What a great start to a day dedicated to love.

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Posted: 2/14/2023

#mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger x mc #mysme x reader #mysme x mc #mm x reader #mm x mc #saeyoung x reader #saeyoung x mc #707 x reader #707 x mc

[kittyisaddicted]

Stages

Somewhere this year I just gave up. No, I gave in. Gave in to the irresistible sponge that is my endorphin and serotonin seeking bubbly thing of a brain. My return to tumblr was a hell ride from start to now, and I enjoyed every bit of a sick second of it. 

Going through new and still ongoing shows with you all made me realise that my personal deal with media addiction comes in stages–just like grief, in a way. So bare with me for the 7 stages of (my) media addiction. 

Stage 1

The encounter. Gifs, scenes, little snippets from fics. The inacurate quotes kind of thing that makes me go “This might be interesting”. Going into the tags, a short google search (because tumblr search, you know, … sucks), the like. Finally googling: Where to watch …. And maybe having the luck to not need another streaming service grave for my earnings or a VPN to enjoy another mind and heart soaking piece of fiction. 

Stage 2

The beginning. Episode 1, the story unfolds. I’m chill. Watching episode 2. Seeing scenes I already know because of, you know, tumblr. All seems normal so far. Until I binge episode 3, 4 and 5 and stay up late for episode 6 and maybe get late to wor…

Stage 3

The pull. Or: the binge. If I’m lucky, there’s only one season so far. Or *only* 3 (though no one of us was lucky to have only 3 seasons of Malec Shadowhunters Malec). If there’s more, then welp, because life is now circling around watching episode after episode like earth circles the sky, no hostage taken, every spare second is dedicated to w a t c h i n g! Also, every second of the day is about thinking and every night is dreaming about it. I’m all in. 

Stage 4 

The high noon of addiction. Watching episodes alone is not enough anymore. I rewatch. I re-rewatch scenes on YouTube. I celebrate fan videos there also. My serotonin is up and running, i’m basically high all the time. I heavily search tumblr for meta, for gifs, for meta gifs. My brain and my heart are full, no space for anything else. Working is hard, living a normal life even harder. I’m constantly on my devices, consuming everything I can find, feeling both happy so many creators already did an amazing job and sad about possibly missing out something important, pure FOMO ensues. On the outside I try to seem normal, on the inside I’m craving MORE. MORE. MORE. 

Stage 5

The crawling. Now. Comes the phase where I not only unconsciously know but fully realise that there are actors behind those amazing scenes. That there where a lot of people putting a lot of work into this so it turns out as amazing at it is. And because I never get enough, I dive into their accounts, the meta about them and their relationships, the conventions, the interview snippets, the behind the scenes, the bloopers, there is. so. much. to. see. and. read!!! I am living in an alternate universe basically, borders between reality and fiction fade, the soundtrack is on heavy rotation, I quote both the show and the actors without having any mutuals in real life who know what I am talking about. 

Stage 6

The assimilation. I wake up from a fever dream. Life get’s easier again. As the whole show and cast live now rent free in my head, I can start to shift my interest from the original to the fan made bits and peaces, aka the fan fiction–canon, noncanon, doesn’t matter as long as the writing is in character and I get to know them better through the eyes of talented authors. The tags have a special place on the shelves of my well curated tumblr and ao3 lists (because you know, #The Serotonin is stored in the Ao3) and at least five of my brain cells have another content than my latest blorbo. 

Stage 7 

The retreat. My brain leaves me space for new things. I can concentrate again on other things beside them™, like, well, working, cooking, sleeping, you name it. My sweeties have a special place in my heart from now on, and I will always willingly come back to them for comfort. But right now, the urge to follow everything about them, to dedicate everything I have to them, is gone or, better, just a silent thought in the back of my head. 

#and then of course I am ready to start it all over with the next one #going in circles like any good addict would do #in shorter terms every time #so someday I will go from one phase into the other simultaneously for multiple shows #but for now I regret nothing #supernatural #destiel #good omens #ineffable husbands #shadowhunters #malec #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #stranger things #suits #harvey x donna #how to get away with murder #connor walsh #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series

[masterwords]

running toward nothing (part ten)

Summary: Hotch is injured in an explosion while on overseas assignment, putting Derek in a difficult position both with the team and with Spencer who has spent the last few months inadvertently falling in love with him. (Set around 07x01 - It Takes a Village but canon divergent by a lot.)

Warnings: car accident, swearing, drug addiction/use (Jack is in the car accident...everyone lives, no one is too badly hurt)

Words: 1.6k

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan established

Notes: This is for @tobias-hankel’ s Spencer Whump Challenge. My assigned prompts to do my evil with were Derek Morgan & Betrayal. Well fuck, you guys. That took me a year and a half to achieve...it's not great, but it's getting us there. One more to go but...WE HAVE WHUMP! SPENCER WHUMP! Not THE whump, but A whump. So...I'm sorry, I'll have the last chapter soon...slowly my ability to write is returning (slowly, and this really isn't great but it's the best I can do right now) and I have so many things in store for you guys. For now...accept this as my humble apology.

CHAPTER LIST

Read on AO3: Running Toward Nothing

**

It was hailing. Weird, because the forecast hadn't called for hail, in fact it was supposed to be a perfectly sunny day but here it was, pelting the windshield and then his face. He really needed to roll up his window.

No.

That couldn't be right. He could see the sunshine through the windshield but the sky was...wrong, twisted and tilted on its axis, and where was the...oh.

Fuck.

That's glass, he thought suddenly, the fog lifting only for a moment. Long enough to hear Jack's terrified shrieks from somewhere behind him, far away but way too damn close. Far away could mean he'd dropped him off and Jack was seeing him...this close and Spencer, in some foggy nightmare world, realized that Jack was behind him and still in the car. “SPENCER! SPENCER! SPENCER!” Inside the car that was now on its side sputtering steam and the sweet smell of the transmission and radiator spilling their guts all over the road. He blinked the blood from his lashes and tried to move his hands, to wipe his face, but couldn't. He was pinned in place.

“Jack?” he croaked in a voice that sounded raw and like it had been filtered through something in a Hollywood special effects lab. “Jack answer me...”

Jack was crying. It had gone from screams to crying, and the screams had been bad but this made Spencer vibrate with a desperation he'd never known. He fumbled with shaking fingers against what he knew were broken bones and torn ligaments, trying to get his seatbelt unbuckled but it was jammed tight in the crunched door. He was pinned.

And even if he could free himself, some part of him knew he had no business touching Jack. Covered in blood, broken and useless and high as fuck...he stopped and tried to crane his neck, just to see. Jack's uncontrollable sobs were shaking his entire body but he was still strapped in tight, his chest clip in place, his seat solid. He was bleeding but he looked fine. A hell of a lot better than Spencer knew he was, that was certain. And good, maybe Hotch would be less inclined to kill him if Jack was okay. He doubted he'd see any mercy but he did find some shred of himself hoping for it. The cries from the back seat had gone from fearfully calling for Spencer, right into the song of a child who just wants his dad.

Except he wasn't crying for his dad, Spencer realized. He was calling out but he wasn't saying dad, he was saying Derek. The kid was beside himself and Spencer thrust one hand toward the backseat, trembling fingers making contact with Jack's cheek and grappling for something to hold.

“Jack, Jack, it's okay...we're going to be okay...do you hear the sirens?”

“DEREK!” Jack screamed at the top of his lungs, and Spencer knew Jack was beside himself, in total shock. He couldn't appeal to him with logic, so he grappled some more until he found Jack's hand and squeezed the best he could with whatever paltry strength he possessed.

“Derek will come,” Spencer said softly, he believed it too. Maybe they were both calling out for a hero. Derek always came, he always saved the day. “Did you know...” he licked his dry, blood caked lips and sucked down a gulp of air. “that he's really good at kicking down doors?”

“Could he...” Jack gasped, his eyes huge and wild. “Could he break this door?”

“Absolutely,” was Spencer's reply and he almost thought he could see the movie in Jack's scared eyes. Derek coming and with one swift motion, like a superhero, tearing the door from its hinges and freeing the both of them. Scooping Jack into his arms and holding him tight, taking him to his father. They listened to the song of the approaching sirens get louder and louder, and Jack stared out the window expecting any minute to see Derek framed there in crumpled metal.

Spencer's head lolled to the side, his hand still on Jacks while his eyes fluttered closed. Back into the warm embrace of the last tendrils of his fog, forgetting the hail storm. They'd wait it out. Can't drive in hail like this.

The next time his eyes opened the sky was above him again, neatly situated in its proper place, and that crackling, popping dripping glass sound wasn't ringing in his ears anymore. He tried to turn his head, to look for something important...there was something so important that he needed to see...the fog in his head was thick like soup.

“Hang in there buddy, we'll be at the hospital in just a minute...” It was a voice that felt disconnected from everything, from the world, some omniscient being.

“Jack?” he rasped, like his mouth knew what his brain did not. Speaking the word was like a terrible spell, a sudden crushing feeling in his chest gave way to a choked sob and the EMT leaned over him and told him to relax. “Can't...can't relax...Jack...”

“That the kid you were with?”

He just blinked. Maybe, maybe not, questions didn't have answers just...Jack. The word became something to hold, thick and poisonous. It wasn't anything more than a word but it was a really really important word. Like a spell.

“Well, buddy, if that's the kid, he's in the ambulance right ahead of us...he seemed okay...do you know a Derek? He was calling for Derek...”

Derek. A new word to focus on.

(x)

The lights were too bright. Too damn bright and his eyes felt like they were peeling and blistering. He screamed but no one seemed to notice or care and it only hurt inside of his head...maybe he wasn't screaming at all. Maybe it was just a scream beating at his chest. Tearing him apart and chewing him up, he would be nothing but liquid soon if it had its way.

“Your emergency contact isn't answering his phone,” a nurse said softly, standing over him while they poked him full of holes and hooked him up to monitors. “We'll keep trying.”

“Hotch. Call...call Hotch...”

At least he thought he said that. Things were becoming clear again, slowly. She smiled and it read as pity more than kindness. Was he babbling? Saying real words or nonsense? She seemed to be parsing his words against language she knew. “I don't know who that is but we'll do our best.”

Blood in vials. Needles. Just a pinch. He blinked slowly and he knew, he knew what he did the clearer everything became. He knew by the way that behind every doctor and nurse was a police officer with his badge and his weapons, watching. Four hydros (why had he decided to take the others?) and he decided going for it on a yellow sounded great except that yellow had actually been red and he just...floated right through, huh? That how it went? He just...

He just what? He was blitzed out of his mind and he could taste colors, was that what he planned to tell the waiting officers when they came for his statement with their print out of his tox screen and their handcuffs? Yes, officer, see the thing is I couldn't seem to make my foot reach the brake...see, officer, my hands were numb and my fingers were dancing a jig like that little cartoon frog, you know that guy? The colors of the traffic light tasted just like laffy taffy. That was what he thought when the van came barreling into them, clipping them, knocking them on their side. Jack. Fuck. Hotch.

“Do you know how this happened?” There he was, that ominous policeman, faceless beneath the bright light. Just a halo and navy blue and a badge, a melting Dali painting of a person. He swallowed thick and thought of Hannibal making someone swallow their tongue. Wished someone could come through for him like that right now. He could do with a little relief.

“I uh...” he stammered, his lips like swollen sausages and the taste of blood was making him sick. The only good thing was that he was in enough shock that the pain barely registered. “I don't....” He did though. Jack said something about hearing Derek talk about marrying his dad, talking to his mom on the phone and Spencer's vision grayed out briefly. He'd swerved and gulped, then he reached into his pocket and downed those two extra pills...and then he'd asked Jack if he wanted to get a milkshake before school. A treat. Marriage...Derek was talking about marriage? So he drove right past the school and...

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, I...” he sighed and his lungs deflated to the point he thought they may never fill with air again. “I don't drink. But I...”

“You're FBI?” He was examining Spencer's credentials, writing a few things down on his trusty little pad of paper that made Spencer angry. Barely listening, he already knew what he needed, this was just an irritating formality. His fingers twitched at his side.

Too many questions. His head hurt. Everything hurt. They weren't giving him anything for the pain, and he thought he knew why. The same reason the officer didn't much care about his answers.

“Yes. I'm with the Behavioral Analysis Unit...” The officer hummed and stepped back when the nurses announced they had to get him into surgery, they had some work to do. He was glad, they'd put him under and then it wouldn't hurt anymore and he wouldn't see Jack's face bloody or hear his screaming. He wouldn't think about Hotch.

Or Derek. Or marriage.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds #hotchgan

[davidnorton]

Kitchen storage ideas to keep your kitchen essential within your reach

Food storage is one of the most essential components in maintaining a healthy and happy kitchen. Without at least some storage space, your modern kitchen cabinets will soon be overrun with muddy food and untidy utensils. Making things run more smoothly and efficiently can be greatly improved by maintaining organization in your kitchen. You'll have more time to cook as a result and spend less time cleaning.

I knew I wanted to store my food in a cool, dry place. This was especially important for perishable items like meat and dairy products. So I decided to use the basement for my storage area. The basement is cool and dry and there are plenty of kitchen cabinets gold coast for me to use. Additionally, it won't take up any space in my kitchen because it is out of the way.

I also wanted to ensure that I had enough space for my foods, pots, pans, and utensils. This was difficult because I have only a small kitchen with limited space (and lots of stuff). To make sure everything fit, I wrote down everything I have in my kitchen and then made a list of what special storage needs (like pots needing a rack or something to put them on). Then I checked out all the different types of storage that were available at the stores around town (I went grocery shopping). Finally, I bought all the things that were needed to set up an organized kitchen pantry.

When it comes to keeping your kitchen cabinet makers gold coast organized, a few simple rules apply to everything from countertop paint to wine bottles — you need at least one wall left over from last year's crop for your emergency plan.

The first rule helps you avoid panic when your storage space is full. The second rule helps you avoid the guilt of throwing out perfectly good food that has gone bad. Here are a few more tips for organizing your kitchen pantry.

Clear out everything. Take everything out of your kitchen and put it somewhere else (like the basement or garage). The amount of space you have now that everything is gone will astound you.

Go through all the items in your kitchen renovations gold coast and throw out anything that has expired or is no longer good to eat (don’t forget to throw away all those old spices). You can also donate anything that is still good but you don’t use anymore (like those cans of tomato sauce that have been sitting in the back of your cupboard for over a year).

Organize it by category. Group similar foods together so they are easy to find, and label each shelf with the category name.

Take everything out of your kitchen and put it somewhere else (like the basement or garage). You’ll be amazed at how much space you have in your kitchen now that everything is gone. Get rid of the junk. Check out your food storage and decide what foods you know you’ll never use. Donate them to a food bank or just toss them in the trash. But don’t forget to take a picture of all the foods you got rid of so that you can replace them next year with things you will use!

Looking for a kitchen design gallery? Contact Capri QLD now.

#modern kitchen cabinets #kitchen design gallery #kitchen cabinets #kitchen cupboards #commercial office fit out #bathroom cabinets gold coast

[stillfruit]

work complaints

#so i do agency work right which means i reserve each individual work shift individually from a number of grocery stores that offer shifts #i could work at a lot of different places but basically i just work at this one place bc i like it and i know who the regulars ar by now etc #so somewhere around this year they put me in this special list that the stores can have where the shifts are offered first #to those on the list and there was one person besides me on that list i think #this made my life a lot easier bc the shifts go v fast as in if you don't reserve it immediately it's gone and you don't have work #which was fine by me really bc i don't need money to live yet i'm just saving up #at first i thought this kind of work would be ok for me since i don't really have to try and be super good employee bc i'm not a regular #i was like i'm totally ok just sitting on the register getting paid doing the minimum #but what do u kno ofc things can't stay like that bc that's not who i am as a person ofc i have to do everything as well as i can #even tho it benefits me monetarily and otherwise fuck all bc as i said i'm not a regular anywhere and i can get work regardless #so now the store has removed me from their special list and even tho that should be fine bc there's no reason for me to be committed #i'm stressed the fuk out bc what did i do!!!!!!! i know for a fact i have done nothing wrong and the regulars always say i do good job #and they say i'm glad i'm there when i got shifts bc i know how things work in the store by now so i can work more independently #but i'm literaally always uncertain abt everything i have no idea if i'm doing ok or not bc i've learnt everything by myself while working #in the milk aisle and stocking shelves etc #no one has ever taught me anything besides the work as a cashier a little so idk if i'm by now someone who can be called 'experienced' #there was another person who did a huge error with her register that affected me too and that might've made the emplyers think it was me #i can think of nothing else but if it's that i'm p pissed bc it was literally not my fault and i did nothing wrong #anyway the easy way to solve this would be to ask but there's no way in hell i'll talk to the boss and idt the regulars know #so i'm left with this uncertainty and i hate it bc i shouldn't be so hung up on this shit happens maybe they deleted the whole list #but honestly i doubt it #anyway i love how my fear of failure and disappointment make my life not worth living bc even simple things become impossibilities!! #i have a shift on thursday i'll try to ask someone but yea #i'm so overdramatic abt this hfdhfhshhf wow i was demoted a little like over a week ago and it still bothers me like this #like i'm genuinely considering applying somewhere else altogether but then again i could never write an application bc i dont know my skills #watch me be suddenly over this on thursday or be too shy to ask #shit talking

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain #hero #villain #snippet #my writing #write #writeblr #ive donated blood exactly once #thanks again for the medical expertise #don’t lie on medical forms pls ppl #chaotic good heroes #protective villain

[vad-hander]

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 3.8k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Your head felt dizzy and you wouldn’t lie if you’d say that everything caved in and pulled out from under you.

The first sip you took was when your foot exited the store, unscrewing the lid of the wine you bought, immediately. It burned your throat, but the whole in your chest burned ten times stronger and you chose to deal with your inner pain first. Your feet walked you through the streets of Seoul, trying to focus your brain on something other than the void inside of you but failed miserably. The first bottle didn’t do its job yet and when you pressed it against your lips for another sip you noticed how it was already empty. The nearest bin became it’s grave and the nearest store became your saviour, allowing you to buy another drink. This time your eyes fell onto the beer, and you bought three bottles, opening them in the park nearby, you sat down on the grass, fishing out the cake you had baked a day before from the bag on your shoulder. Not bothering with the way you’d it eat you just bit into it, getting cake all over your face. You chuckled to yourself, wiping sweet goodness from your skin.

You turned on music in your headphones, playing every upbeat song there was, nodding your head and moving your foot to the beat, right until you felt warm trails of tears on your cheeks. You laid your head on the grass, hiding your face in your palms, not holding back anymore from crying.

You weren’t able to believe it, you couldn’t believe he did this to you. You never thought he’d cheat, you never thought you’d find out about it in such a bad way. You never expected this from Jeno, but then again, who ever expects their partner to cheat?

Your mind went again over everything you’ve been through in the past 8 months, your mind went through your friendship of 3 years, 3 years of you being head over heels for Jeno until one day you became more.

Suddenly you remembered how Jaebeom told you to break up with him making you hate everything about the situation even more. If you listened, you would’ve not went through what you just went through, but why would you listen to a stranger anyway? You hated the fact he was right, but one single memory of him made you want to see him.

You fished out your phone to search on the internet open hours of the bar. The website said 5 PM, making you shift your eyes up to the clock of your phone. It was already three, and since your plans for the day and maybe even life were ruined, you had no better things to do than just come there and wait for him. Wait for Jaebeom for no reason. Just because he was the only person that didn’t know Jeno, just because he was the only person you wanted to see.

The route in your phone promised you that you’d be there right before opening if you’ll walk, so without hesitation you sat up, collecting yourself and walking in the direction of the bar.

You tried to do everything for emptiness in your hands to bother you more, than the new feeling of having your heart ripped from your chest, and halfway to the bar you went to one more alcohol store, getting this time a proper drink - rum. You didn’t know where this rum addiction suddenly came from, but now you guessed it should be your signature drink when it came to meeting Jaebeom.

The familiar by now burn of the drink gave your brain one more reason to think about Jaebeom. You have almost forgot that you spilled your drink over him, almost forgot the way he said your name. Memories of him almost made a small shard of your heart go back in place, almost, because the image of Jeno with HER, made all of your insides clench in pain.

Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Your brain went in overdrive, repeating his name like a mantra. Your fingers ached to dial his number but your brain knew you had nothing to tell him. Your love have died just like that, it didn’t go somewhere overnight, you didn’t wake up and understand that you didn’t love him anymore. He killed it with his actions, Jeno killed everything there was with his actions, and now you were killing memories of him in your head, finding the neck of the bottle with your lips.

From the side you must’ve looked like a psychopath, crying, laughing, talking to your own self, walking in a quicker and slower pace. Doing everything that came to your mind. Now you were free in every meaning possible, why’d you bother about anything?

You got there quicker than your phone have promised, seeing the door of the bar being closed. Not finding a better option than just sitting on the bench not far from the entrance, you placed the bottle next to you, only realising how tired you got from walking when your butt rested against wooden material of your seat. You looked around, noticing how the area of the bar was actually pretty quiet. Your eyes ran over the streets that were surrounding the building, wondering in your mind if one of those roads led to Jaebeom’s house.

Alcohol from the rum hit you like a rock, crawling from behind your brain with tiredness. You closed your eyes for a slight second, only to feel someone touch your shoulder the next moment.

“Are you alive?” a man asked you carefully. Your eyes blew open in fear, noticing how it was much darker outside. Your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“Jaebeom.” you said quietly, sighing.

“Celebrating your boyfriends birthday to the max?” he joked, grabbing the bottle from next to you. You tried to smile back, biting your upper lip and lifting your eyes up to the sky to prevent from crying.

“No, I’m alone here.” your voice trembled and it was the last bit before you broke down. Hot tears streamed down your face, making you feel embarrassed. You barely could see Jaebeom’s face but he went quiet and you guessed he didn’t want to deal with that, expected.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, calm down.” his hands touched your cheeks and your insides turned upside down. “We’ll work everything out, you can tell me.” His thumbs drew soothing little circles under your eyes making you want to put it all in you to stop crying. You blinked multiple times finally being able to see his face properly for the first time this evening, seeing him squatting in front of you. He probably noticed you focus your vision on him, gifting you a kind smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you cleared your throat in a couple of seconds, finally replying. You thought he’ll let go of your face by now, but he kept his fingers glued to your cheeks, keeping his eyes glued to yours. You felt your breathing get heavier, but you attributed it to your recent crying.

“How come you’re so beautiful even when you’re crying?” he chuckled more to himself, beating air from your lungs completely.

Your hands slowly found Jaebeom’s on your cheeks, covering his hands with yours. You wanted to make him let go of you, but when you got the taste of what his hands felt like with your own, you changed your mind immediately.

People passed by, drunk and sober, some were just going in and some were already leaving. You didn’t know how long your nap took, you didn’t know how come you got so lucky to be woken up by Jaebeom and not some weird creep.

You stared at each other, both of you being scared to break the moment.

“Ya, Jaebeom, where did you get lost?” the voice of a guy made you jump in Jaebeom’s hands, turning your head in unison with Jaebeom to face the guy.

“Get lost, I’ll come later.” one of his hands left you, showing the guy to leave.

You let go of Jaebeom’s hand when he turned back to you, and he let go of your cheek too, sitting on the bench right next to you.

“Why did you sleep on the bench?” he asked not looking at you.

“Buy me a drink.”

“What?”

“You wanted to buy me a drink twice, now I agree.” you looked at him.

“I won’t.” he turned to face you.

“Why is that?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Is that all you had? Half of the rum?”

“No…” You said shamefully.

“What else?”

“Wine, beer and then this.” you listed quickly expecting any reaction from him, but he just watched you.

“Let’s go.” he quickly stood up after some time of silence.

“Where to?”

“Cafe next block. You need food and coffee, and when you’ll tell me everything I’ll see if you’re allowed to drink any more. Come on.” he signalled for you to go with his head and you stood up too, grabbing the bottle to take with you. “Give me that.”

“Why?”

“I’ll carry it for you. Don’t worry, I won’t throw it away, I see that you have a special relationship with rum. I won’t fight it.” he shot you a smile, pulling the bottle from your hands.

***

“Eat up.” Jaebeom moved the plate closer to you when the waitress that eyed him wildly finally left your sight.

“Thank you.” you sighed, picking the fork and a knife, cutting up the pancakes in the plate. Jaebeom took the coffee pot, pouring hot beverage into your cup and placing the pot back on the table. “Hey, have coffee too.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“You eat, you need to sober up.”

“I never offered the food, don’t even dream of that.” you played with your eyebrows and Jaebeom chuckled at you, smiling at you sweetly for a few more seconds after you lowered your eyes to the plate.

You cut through the pancakes, sticking a few pieces on the fork. Lifting your eyes up you noticed that he poured coffee for himself too. You waited patiently for him to lift his eyes up at you.

“Open your mouth.” you commanded the next second he looked at you. A smirk lit up his face and a sudden regret rushed over your body. Maybe that was a bit overboard, maybe that’s the rum inside of you speaking. Whatever it was, it was way too late now to back off. Jaebeom nibbled on his lower lip with a smile, opening his mouth slightly and extending his neck towards you. Your hand moved up and froze in the air when your eyes focused on his mouth. Redness flashed over your face at the thoughts that ran in your head. How soft would his mouth feel on yours?

His hand quickly grabbed yours, moving it towards his face, forcing the fork into his mouth and biting the pancakes off it. He let go of your hand, letting it fall back onto the table.

“So tell me, what happened?” he asked you after he finished chewing. His elbows laid on the table, making you feel as if you were under interrogation.

“Don’t be a party pooper, I just began feeling better.” you whined, making Jaebeom laugh again. What’s up with him laughing at everything you say? We’re you that funny…? You never noticed before.

“I didn’t know you considered this a party.” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded quickly, forcing your attention into the plate, knowing if you’d keep your eyes on him a second longer you’d cry.

You stared into the plate through the whole time you ate, finishing the coffee in your cup, feeling how he stared at you quietly while you were consuming everything that was on the table.

“Jeno, my boyfriend, the guy you told me to dump, I guess he dumped me.” you leaned more into the seat, seeing Jaebeom’s face for the first time in a while. He kept quiet, allowing you to continue but you didn’t do it.

“On his birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Right after you came with miyeok guk?”

“Yeah… well, I think technically before that.” you chuckled hysterically. “I came to his place, punched in the code and got to his bedroom only to find a topless girl on top of him. They were…” you coughed awkwardly.

“Fucking?” he asked carelessly.

“Yeah… that. So… I guess he only called me last night to find out if I’ll come early when she was already there, to see if he should make her leave or what. I shouldn’t have lied, if I didn’t I would’ve lived my happy clueless life. Want to know the funny part?”

“There is one?” Jaebeom seemed surprised.

“You were right about the girl, you probably did see her somewhere because she was the one with him. I doubt she is the friends sister now.” you sighed and moved in your seat worriedly. You felt better but at the same you felt wrong sharing this with him. “The ridiculous part is that you really did read through my entire life in a second. That’s really annoying.” you looked him in the eyes, chuckling. “And concerning as well, should I be listening to you from now on in everything I do?” you tried to joke with him once again and he gifted you another smile.

“I won’t protest, but I won’t force you either.” he looked you deep in the eyes. He did that way too often as if he tried to speak to you through staring.

“Would you like anything else?” waitress broke off the silence, ruining one of your moments.

“No, thanks.” Jaebeom gave the girl the same smile he always gave you, and a weird pinch of jealousy hit your chest. “Give us the bill, please.” his voice was soft and the girl smiled even brighter than before.

“Just a moment.” she bowed and left.

“So you’re friendly like that to everyone.” you noted to yourself but did it aloud for some reason.

“I’m friendly to everyone but for you I’m all that and even more.” he leaned in and extended his hand to you, laying it with his palm up for you to lay yours on top.

“Why?” he stretched his fingers signalling to you that he’s waiting.

“There should be a reason?”

“There’s a reason for everything.” you replied, fighting an inner battle if its appropriate now to touch his hand.

“Okay, then my reason is that I’m naturally attracted to you. Didn’t I tell you already multiple times that I liked you?” he sounded so casual as if he spoke about weather. Your hands felt cold due to fear you were experiencing. Was he meaning he liked you as a person? As a company? Or did he mean something else…? Something more? The idea of asking him to clarify these questions gave you a whiplash. His whole presence gave you constant whiplash with everything he said, did and even with the way he looked at you. You knew for sure you weren’t about to forget Jeno in a second and you were afraid to tell that to Jaebeom in case he didn’t mean it in that way at all. Jeno broke your heart and you knew that you needed more time to over-live it than 8 hours. At the same time you were afraid Jaebeom would laugh at your silly assumption of him wanting you by his side in a different way.

Giving him your hand to hold wouldn’t hurt anything though, right? You thought to yourself it wouldn’t and laid your palm on top of his.

“I thought you said I’m okay and we could be friends, now you doubted to lay your hand on top of mine for 10 minutes, I’m offended.” His fingers wrapped around your hand moving it closer to his side of the table. His other hand laid on top of yours and you shivered unconsciously hoping he didn’t notice. “ you’re funny, cute and smart, that’s his loss, you shouldn’t be crying about someone who didn’t only disrespect you, he just showed what type of person he is. He’s a trash bag if he cheated, don’t waste your nerves on that. It’s better you found out more or less quickly. If you need someone to rely on I can be by your side. You can call me anytime.” Jaebeom lifted your hands off the table, finding your eyes with his, biting his lower lip. Lifting your hands higher, he lowered his head, planting a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn’t help but smile shyly at his gesture. “Give me your phone, by the way.”

“Oh?” you asked surprised but didn’t want to protest or question him any further, moving your hand from his and getting your phone out on the table. You unblocked it getting startled by the photo on the home screen. The photo of you being on Jeno’s back, kissing his cheek sweetly, while he bended and smiled into the camera happily. You wanted to change it quickly for Jaebeom to not see but your hands just froze. The void in your chest suddenly enlarged to the previous size.

Jaebeom grabbed the phone from your hands before you could even realise it and began doing something you couldn’t see. It took him longer than you expected and you bit your tongue to not ask questions.

You watched him focusing his vision onto the screen of your phone, probably typing his phone number into your contacts while you were just appreciating his handsome features.

“Would you like to pay by card or cash?” the waitress appeared scaring you once again.

“Card.” you said in unison. Jaebeom gave you a look, laying your phone by his side.

“I ate, I’ll pay.” you expanded your hand to grab the phone and pay with it but he caught your hand with his, making you blush because you could definitely feel the waitresses eyes on your hands.

“No.” he nodded strictly and the piercing gaze that he gave you killed your will to fight with him over that.

“Thanks for food… and for words you said…” you told him when the both of you exited the cafe. “You really are a good friend I guess.” you lifted your eyes to see his face.

“You want to go home?” he sounded disappointed. “Sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“No, I’m just saying thank you.” you smiled. “Or were you hoping to not spend any more money on me? Didn’t you promise me a drink?” you whined jokingly.

“I thought you’re trying to run away from me.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“Good, i wouldn’t let you anyway.” he stepped closer invading your private space. “I’ll buy you as many drinks as you’d want me to…” he raised his arm and you stopped breathing to see what he’ll do next and he moved his palm closer to your cheek, making it burn with the electricity that was forming in the space between you two, but dropped his hand back down the next second. “Just stay by my side… for tonight, at least.” his hand found your wrist, pulling you to go after him towards the entrance of the bar. 15 minutes later the both of you were sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you called him.

“Rum and coke?” Jaebeom asked with a laugh.

“I’ll have what you’ll have.”

“Okay.” he nodded seriously, lifting his arm again. “Two shots of vodka.” he gestured number two with his fingers.

“Just a second.” your eyes ran from Jaebeom to bartender quickly, trying to see if he was about to tell you it was a joke, but he didn’t. Even when the shot glasses hit the bar he watched bartenders moves quietly, only looking up at you when the order was done.

“I didn’t know that’s what you meant when you said you want to buy me a drink.” you laughed awkwardly.

“That’s just because you said you want what I want.” he pushed the glass towards you more.

Your eyes ran between Jaebeom and vodka.

“Okay, on the count of 3.” you grabbed the glass.

“No, no, both of these are for you.”

“What?”

“Drink.” he gestured.

“Jaebeom.” you sighed disapprovingly.

“You’ll feel better when you’ll stop thinking about everything.”

“I’ll pass out, if it seemed to you that I’m a great drinker, you’re wrong. I’m not drinking often and I’m not really taking it well.”

“You can chill out, I won’t let anything happen to you even if you’ll pass out.” his hand reached your cheek, caressing it a few times.

“Give me a single reason why I should trust my life to a stranger?” you asked curiously.

“To see that I’m not just a stranger to you anymore.” his hand stopped moving and his eyes glued to you in anticipation. Your hand slowly found the glass without looking away from Jaebeom, raising it to your lips, you exhaled, quickly downing the shot. Now that you were completely sober the drink burned like hell and there was nothing to wash down vodka, so you just grabbed the other glass too, downing it in a span of a second. You felt Jaebeom’s hand move from your cheek to your neck, while you were wrinkling your face in disgust, suddenly pulling you by it from where you sat into his embrace. You fell, resting your body against his as if you were a small child, feeling his hand let go of your neck and rest against your back. Your face hid in the crook of his neck and you couldn’t not point out to yourself how bloody good he smelled. Everything about him was always too good to be true. He seemed perfect to the extent it felt concerning but you guessed it was a bit too late to back off now.

When you finally were able to open your eyes again you still felt his hands on your waist, moving yours to rest against his shoulders to push back a little. He didn’t let go of you, leaving his fingers to burn the skin of your sides even through the clothes.

“I didn’t think you’d actually drink both.” he chuckled “you fine?” you nodded yes and he allowed you to sit back.

“I want more.” you turned to face him when you sat.

“More of what?”

“Whatever you’ll buy me.” you smiled at him feeling a bit drunk. Jaebeom nodded at you, biting on his lower lip.

One more round of pure alcohol, and that’s the last thing you remember of the evening.

#jaebeom #jaebeom smut #jay b #jaebeom fluff #jaebeom fanfiction #jaebum #im jaeboem #jaebom #got7 jb #jb fic #jb smut #jaebum smut #jaebum imagines #jaebum fluff #got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 smut #got7 fluff

[solomonish]

How To Keep Your Demon Entertained At A Walmart

Congratulations! You've earned yourself a few demon date days up in the human world! But what's this? You have errands to run? Well, we all know these demons can't function without you for more than five minutes....but an entity that's thousands of years old gets a little bored and restless in the hyper-market wasteland of a Walmart...

Nowdateables: coming soon!

Lucifer

if you don't want him getting passive-aggressive about how you should've done this before he got here (yeesh Lucifer some of us have jobs or responsibilities that we can't shove onto our siblings for a day to see our precious mc) then you better be ready to make conversation

definitely not the type to allow you to even think about sending him off so you can get stuff done. he's not even that bothersome, so he'll get offended if you even think about it, but also wouldn't you rather keep him around to reach the top shelves?

basically if you don’t want to keep Lucifer entertained, you have to be the one he needs to keep entertained

do that thing where you roll around on the cart like a skateboard and he’ll be trying to put a stop to it immediately

put random things in your cart that he knows you don’t need and let him take it out and put it back where it belongs

stare him in the eyes as you put that party size brownie mix in your cart then speed walk away. he will come up from an aisle in front of you and silently pluck the box out and take it back. he will come back to see seven boxes of corn dogs and momentarily considers breaking up with you

does not need a treat as a bribe, but will definitely forgive your antics if you bought something from the bakery to snack on as you go home (especially if you did it without him noticing, considering the eagle eye he’s had to have on your cart the whole time)

just don’t have the nerve to complain about the crumbs in your car after that

Mammon

I would say to ask him to scan the area looking for dropped coins on the floor but he'd probably knock down shelves trying to look beneath them so....maybe don't?

also please keep an eye on him or he WILL be shoplifting. human jail is (probably?) a step up from demon jail but like. let's aim for no jail, ok mammon?

instead, give him a pre-portioned off list and tell him it's like a scavenger hunt. he'll scamper off to explore the walmart and his duty to keeping you happy has like a 70% chance of preventing him from stealing anything too important

make sure the stuff you put on the list is kind of hard to find but not too hard. you wanna keep him occupied without risking him freaking out because he can't find this super specific spice you want

either that or only make a really vague list like. tell him you need bread and he'll stand in the bread aisle trying to remember if you like white bread or whole wheat bread until you come to retrieve him

bring money for a treat. if it's near st patrick's day go in the seasonal aisle and hope they have chocolate gold coins

he's not too hard to deal with, but figuring out what's sneaky enough to put on the list is a chore of its own so going by yourself is less work anyway

Leviathan

taking him to walmart was your final fatal mistake

seriously? he has to go in? you could have just left him in the car!!

you take him intending to have him pick out some normie snacks (since you don't have any limited edition whatever-the-fucks in your house right now) but he looks so uncomfortable you make a detour towards the games

just leave him to play on the trial device and go pick out a few things for him to choose from when you circle back to him

arguable the least stressful trip for you until you have to wade through the pool of kids surrounding him and watching him play when it's time to pay and leave

you won't have to buy him anything but you will have to wait for him to finish the level he's on before he lets you drag him away. and he'll probably complain a little bit in the car about how terrible it was to go in in the first place, which a treat would help minimize.

so i guess just pick your battles with this one?

Satan

satan is a refined individual with startling amounts of self control. he does not need pointed in the direction of the books. he can entertain himself on a grocery run.

point him in the direction of the books anyway

their selection is always small (because it’s a walmart not a bookstore) and half of it is children’s anyway so he’ll probably wander off real quick

satan doesn’t need to be entertained, no, he’s past that. he needs to be kept on a leash

you have no way of knowing where he’ll end up. sometimes he’ll be somewhere that makes sense like in the stationary but sometimes you’ll find him staring at the paint samples like it’s a masterpiece in a museum or over by the fishing hooks reading up about local fish populations and how to get a fishing license and you’re just like “???? i’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes???? don’t give me facts about salmon???”

will ask you why you need to buy tires in the same place you get your food. isn’t that suspicious? what do they specialize in?

answer him only with the word “bargains” and he’ll stop asking once he understands or gets annoyed

you don’t need to buy him a treat unless he finds a book he wants. then come on mc, you dragged him out here and you’re NOT gonna let him get this one thing??

Asmodeus

he's fine with making an errand run with you actually!

he's up on the human world for you baby, just make sure to hold his hand so he feels appreciated

asmo is far too entertained with the concept of a walmart for his own good. don't go with him if you want it to be a quick trip because he'll want to go around the whole store

thinks at first that it's kind of nifty that humans just dump all the things they need in one store but is quickly turned off from the novelty when he realizes how short the distance is between the clothes and the nearest package of raw chicken

even if the selection is small, he will want to spend time in the makeup department. probably goes on rants about how he can’t imagine this quality of product is good for your skin

will still buy nail polish though if you let him

overall? not terrible to have around, but make sure you don’t have anywhere to be in the next hour when you take him

Beelzebub

pack a gallon bag of cheerios like he's a toddler and get ready to fucking book it in and out of there

you know how you should never go grocery shopping when you’re hungry? what were you thinking bringing Beel around??

another brother who’s good for reaching tall shelves if you need it

Beel also has this talent where he can just list off the ingredients you need if you happen to forget your list

if you want, you can distract him momentarily by just throwing out random dishes and he’ll get the ingredients right every time (even though they’re human dishes!!) but you’ll end up giving him like five different cravings by the time you leave

only take him if you want to speedrun grocery shopping, because he will start eating food you haven’t paid for if you take too long

bring extra money for that too, just in case he gets caught :(

Belphegor

bringing belphie to walmart isn't a matter of keeping him entertained moreso than keeping him awake

which you will inevitably fail to do

so even if you only need like three things, get him a cart and let him fall into the basket

he’ll try to stay awake (and he’ll give very self-satisfied grins to the people who stare at him ((and especially the ones who say “wow i wanna do that”))) but he can only fight off his sin for so long

stop by the blankets so he can stuff a few soft things in (bc he’s gotta be uncomfortable cramped in the little basket) and he’ll make himself a tiny nest

the good news is you can put anything on top of him and he won’t complain. just don’t drop any gallons of milk on him or anything that’ll wake him up

go to a self check-out so the employees don’t yell at you

after you put your groceries in your car, just dump his ass on the pavement. he’ll forgive you if you bought him the blankets.

#this came to me in a dream and i thought it was funny #walmart is just such a weird place.... #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me swd #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #long post #lucifer hcs #mammon hcs #leviathan hcs #satan hcs #asmodeus hcs #beelzebub hcs #belphegor hcs #my fics #lucifer writing

[renova-writes]

The Silver Shadow

Summary: The Avengers come up with a plan to capture you. Unfortunately, you are not a stupid girl. They know this and must come up with something that is foolproof. Everyone knows that this is their only chance for decades to get you and they are not messing around. You make your way to one of your many safe houses only to get captured. But, as it turns out, the Avengers want you alive.

Words: 2,007

Warnings: swearing, violence, talk of suicide

Tags: @shadowolf993 @daisy116

Other Chapters: Masterlist

A/N: I’ve got my plan for this fic FINALLY laid out. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for this chapter. I’ve been busy with the end of the school year and stuff like that. Anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you do you should totally ask to join the tag list for this fic or request your own. And remember: comments and asks are always okay. 🖤🖤

Chapter 4: What was the point?

"Where do you think she is?" Rhodes asked. Fury had called him in from the Military to find you. He and the rest of the Avengers were in Tony's penthouse living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed off just how high up the room was. Not only displaying the might of the building, but it also had a near-perfect view of Manhattan. The city that never sleeps was illuminated by the pinkish-orange glow of the sunset.

"According to my calculations and the report of the Special Ops on the train that reported her. She is approximately 80 miles outside of Quebec. "Vision said, "Whether she is aware of that proximity or not, our best move would be to have a watch in the city."

"Definitely," Steve agreed, "I'll talk to the mayor and call in a few favors."

"What if she never makes it to Quebec? She's probably not stupid. What if all those eyes cause her to stay off the grid? Then we'll never catch her." Tony criticized. It was true; you weren't stupid. If you got wind of an alert to look out for someone who looked even remotely like you, you were going to stay as far away if you could.

One time, you had left a witness, and they reported you to the police. Like clockwork, they put out a wanted alert. It was 1985, and you were in Los Angeles, so they had more significant issues to deal with. You got lucky because, at the time, it was the height of the terror caused by the Night Stalker.

To be honest, you had never really understood serial killers. You were technically one, but the psychopathic killers—the crazy cannibal sadists. HYDRA had checked your mental health, and the results had come back pretty standard. There was a bit of crazy in you, but hey, who doesn't have any?

Since everyone was so scared of the Night Stalker, they didn't pay too much attention to someone who had killed one minor, uninfluential politician. No one reported you, and no one cared. You left Los Angeles unscathed but a little rattled.

What if someone had reported me?... What would happen?... Thank God it didn't happen this time?... I need to be more careful…

You had learned your lesson. If you got wind someone was looking for you, they were never, ever going to find you—end of story.

"He's right," Bucky said as he walked into the room. After Steve talked to him, he went back to his room to clean up before joining the rest of the Avengers in coming up with a plan to catch you. "She's careful. There's too much on the line for her."

"Then what do we do?" Wanda asked, "How do we catch her?"

"Hear me out… We still do a watch and tell the mayor. But we don't release it to the public. We let law enforcement know and send them as many troops as we can." Clint suggested.

"With undercover cops?" Banner asked.

"Exactly," He responded. "Let Y/N think that everything is normal. That no one's looking for her."

"All in favor?" Steve asked. Everyone voted yes. It was a good idea. You didn't know it yet, but it was an excellent idea. "I'll let the mayor and police chief know then."

Steve walked out and made his way to one of the comm rooms. The rest of the avengers looked among one another. They were all on edge. Sam Wilson, who had absolutely no idea how dangerous you were, was the least worried. To him, you were just another common criminal who would be caught. On the other side of the spectrum, Bucky could barely keep himself together. After excusing himself, he walked to the bathroom, locked the door, and wasn't heard from for a few hours.

Everyone else waited for a while to see if they were still needed before making their way to various spots. Some, like Nat and Wanda, went to their rooms. Banner went to the lab with Tony, and Clint went to the gym.

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

You were no better off than you were yesterday. Maybe you had clothes, sure, but you also managed to have sex with an asshole and assault the guy. Alex wasn't going to remember it, but that didn't make it right. Out of all of the things you had done, your conscience said that was the worst. You had acted like a monster. Hopefully, he would be okay. You wouldn't.

After storming out of the King's Treason, you found yourself on a dirt road through a forest. It was the middle of the night, and all the stars were awake. You wondered what was up there. After watching the Battle of New York unfold on television, you were well aware that you weren't alone in the universe. Thor had made that clear. But you still didn't know precisely what there was. In your mind, the galaxy was rich with alien life. Things that looked like humans but with rainbow-colored skin. Somethings that looked nothing like humans. You wondered if it was like Star Wars showed it. That would be cool. But you didn't know, because you had never seen an alien in real life before.

When you stared at the stars, there was always one that stood out to you. It wasn't the biggest or the brightest, but it was the most beautiful. If someone asked you if you wanted to go to space and you could go to any star or place, that would be the one. It didn't matter if nothing was there, but you knew there was. You just knew. The moon was bright tonight too. It dimed out the light of the surrounding stars and made the night on Earth a little brighter.

There was only one road to follow. Since all roads lead somewhere, you picked one and started walking. The night was peaceful and quiet. That was what you needed. You looked at your watch that had a compass on it. You were heading southeast.

The scenery remained the same for the first few miles. Suddenly the forest began shifting into the countryside. The rolling hills morphed into gated suburbs. A quick glance at your GPS told you that you were in Quebec.

Quebec…. I have a safe house here… Finally some peace and quiet…

You walked for an hour until you found the road that led to the neighborhood your house was in. It had been a few years since you had gone to his house. Everything was the same, but a little different. The streets were emptied in the early morning air, but it wasn't the same Quebec that you remembered. The barbershop on the corner was gone. The window that had once said Chez Berruby's Barbers had been changed to an ice cream store.

The more you looked, the more you saw the changes. That was never a good sign. But you ignored it and kept walking down the street until you got to Rue Saint-Paul. That was your street. You were right; everything was changing. Every single house on the street looked well kept and trimmed. The bushes were perfect, and the grass was green. Then there was your safe house. The yard was brown, and the windows were cracked. It stuck out like a sore thumb, which meant you would stick out too.

It's only for a night… Or two… We'll move on again…

You looked in a small notebook you kept in your supply belt for where you had hidden the key. Under the pot shaped like a frog. Was it on the front steps? No. After searching the side gate area, the garage, and the balcony over it, you concluded that there was no frog pot. There might have been a few years ago. But a lot can happen in a year. Let alone three or four.

"Well fuck it," you muttered. You got a knife out and picked the lock. A click told you the door was unlocked, so you went inside. You opened the door and stepped inside. The house was musty and smelled like cat pee. You followed the hallway past the stairs and into the kitchen.

To be honest, you didn't know what you were expecting when you opened the fridge. Definitely not food. To your surprise, there was a moldy pizza and flat Coca-Cola. You were not that desperate. After rummaging through the cabinets, you found some cans of kidney beans. The expiration date was last week, but they'd have to do.

Halfway through the can of rancid beans, you heard the fists banging against the door.

"Y/n Y/L/N? We know you're in there." A deep voice yelled, "Turn yourself in now, and we can do this quickly and quietly. I will give you a minute to come out, and then we will come in. Understood?"

No. They were most definitely not understood. You would not be going out without a fight. They were probably going to execute you right there on the steps. If they wanted to kill you. They were going to need to catch you first.

How about a game of cat and mouse?... Maybe this mouse will bite you in the nose... Who nose...

But you couldn't take it anymore. Fear took over. Instead of fighting, your first instinct was to hide. You flew upstairs and flung yourself into the top shelf of a closet. Who cared if it wouldn't be able to hold you? You were hiding for your life. Fear crept up your spine as you saw the end come into sight. Movies always showed the last moments of someone's life as an emotional roller coaster. Maybe if you lived longer, you could have seen some more movies. But they were right.

What had you done with your life? Lie? Kill? For what? For who? What was the point? You had never trusted anyone. Never loved anyone. You didn't even know what love was supposed to feel like. If you could live again, you would try to be a regular person. To live and love. For a trip to Starbucks for an Iced Latte be a normal thing. Not something you had to plan for months for. For friends. People you could trust and care about.

You wished that you could be dying in a huge comfortable bed, with your lover holding your hand. Surrounded by friends and family. Reflecting on your life and having no regrets. You could have a beautiful funeral where people flocked from near and far to celebrate the life of the girl they all loved. Your family would get so many flowers that all the bees of the world would come and dance on your grave.

But that was a fantasy.

Instead, you were alone. Scared out of your mind on a shelf in a closet. In a house that wasn't yours. Alone.

Tears fell down your face as you compared what your life could have been to what it was. You almost wanted them to kill you so it could be over.

It's all over… And I'm… Happy?...

"Anyone in here?" A soldier called. You were surprised he couldn't hear your heart hammering through your chest. Or the hurricane in your eyes.

The footsteps of three other soldiers entered the room and began tearing it apart.

Five… Four… Three… Two… On-

"Found her!" He shouted. He opened the closet door and barely had time to get the sentence out before you shot him. You didn't even have room in your mind to feel sorry. You were numb and tired and scared for your life.

You jumped out of the closet and aimed your gun at the next guy.

He fell down. And the next. You only got shots onto those two before everything went dark.

Am I dead?... Please tell me I'm dead… Shit…

The darkness faded into blinding white. After that faded, you saw that you were in a prison cell. And not dead. Fuck.

#loki #marvel #loki laufeyson #marvel imagine #loki odinson #marvel tv show #tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #hot hiddleston #disney plus #loki smut #loki (marvel) #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #avengers fic #the silver shadow

[sincerelyasomebody]

Mama || Leticia "Letty" Cruz

(GIF: @angels-reyes)

A/N: This was created because I've seen some speculation that Letty may not make it to the end of Season 3 (😭🥺). My mind needed something fluffy to combat this and so this piece came about. Apologises for grammatical errors and please let me know if the Spanish translation needs correcting.

Characters/Pairing(s): Letty x Reader (mother-daughter relationship) ▪︎ Coco x Reader (mention) ☆ Mayans MC (brief mention) ▪︎ OCs (receptionist, mother and son duo) 

Summary: Just a mother protecting her daughter. 

Warnings: brief mention of altercation (male and female), description of injuries, fluff, language, nicknames, painkillers (reference to injury) 

Word Count: 1755

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

(Y/N) couldn't believe how busy the roads leading to the local high school were. It was a Wednesday, a little after ten and the streets were just packed with cars. She thought it was ridiculous considering people were usually at their jobs and children were in their age appropriate schools. There was no reason for people to be out and about. 

"The light's been green for five seconds!" she yelled and honked her horn, "move!" The driver in front gave her the finger before taking off, "you're so fucking lucky I've got somewhere to be, asshole!" she called out as she drove in the opposite direction. 

When her phone rang during her break, the last person (Y/N) expected to hear from was the receptionist for Santo Padre High School. According to the woman, Leticia (Letty as she was mostly referred to) had been in an altercation with another student and her parents or caregivers were requested to come and meet with the principal. Rachel, the receptionist, mentioned trying to reach her father but going straight to voicemail. With (Y/N) being listed as an emergency contact she was called. 

(Y/N) immediately asked about Letty, but was told that specific details couldn't be discussed over the phone. She found that odd, but accepted it (for the time being) and informed Rachel that she would be there as quickly as she could. After hanging up, she grabbed her belongings and told her manager she had a family emergency to attend to. She was cleared and (Y/N) informed him that she would be taking a week off as well and would keep them updated on her situation. 

From the moment she received the call to the time she pulled up in front of the high school, her thoughts revolved around Letty. Being with Coco for several years allowed (Y/N) to gain some insight to the type of life he had been subjected to. Through a lot of tears, constant reassurance and love (Y/N) was able to break through his tough exterior and get him to believe she was in it for the long haul. When (Y/N) was told by him about his daughter being in a similar environment to what he was in growing up, she demanded him to bring her home.

The second she laid eyes on Letty she saw Coco's features and personality shine through. (Y/N) didn't expect the teenager to respect or trust her right off the bat, but she made sure to let her know that she was here if she needed someone to talk to and gave her space. With every door slam, harsh comment and glare sent her way, (Y/N) continued being herself and showed Letty she wasn't a threat. It was challenging, especially when Coco left on runs, but she pushed through. Eventually the teenager began to accept her father's girlfriend without second guessing her. 

(Y/N) stepped into the main office and found a woman standing beside a teenage boy, who held some paper towels to his nose and had a couple of scratches on his face. She moved closer and realised the pair were towering over Letty who sat in the corner and was looking down at her lap. Clenching her jaw, she strode over to the trio. 

"Get the fuck away from my daughter!" she glared at the duo and turned around to Letty, who was now standing, "mi niña, are you okay?" she kissed her forehead and cupped her cheeks, "Leticia?" 

The teenager nodded, "uh… y-yeah, I'm fine," she went to move (Y/N)'s hands but winced, "completely fine." 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened at the state of Letty's hands. They were most likely bruised and what shocked her even more was that there was no ice-pack beside her seat. The boy clearly had been given assistance, but her baby girl hadn't and that pissed her off.

"Rachel!" she called out and a woman appeared around the corner, "you're the one who called me right?" 

"Yes." 

"And, you said you couldn't go over specific details of what happened over the phone?" 

"That's correct." 

(Y/N) nodded and gestured towards Letty's hands, "well I'm here now and would like an explanation on why my daughter hasn't been treated and that young man has?" When the mother tried to give a reason, she raised a hand in her face, "this doesn't concern you, this conversation is between Rachel and I." 

Rachel gulped and could feel the anger radiating off of (Y/N), "well… uh, he was bleeding and –"

"Were there other staff members present?" she asked and when she was given a nod, she continued, "why couldn't they have provided medical assistance to my daughter?" 

"She… didn't tell us she was hurt, ma'am, she said she was fine so –"

"Bitch do her hands look fine to you?" 

The mother scoffed, "at least we know where your daughter gets her attitude from." 

(Y/N) turned to her, "shut up, nobody asked for your ass to speak," she gestured towards her son, "the reason your son's looking like a fucked up tomato is completely justified I can vouch for that." 

"Are you kidding me?" She shrieked and pointed to his face, "he's most likely got a broken nose and there's scratches on his face!"

"Exactly, be glad my daughter didn't have a screwdriver on her." (Y/N) replied and almost laughed at the disbelief on the woman's face, "your son deserved every scratch, bruise and possible broken bone."

"Excuse me!?" 

(Y/N) ignored her and turned back around to face Rachel, "Letty and I will be leaving now."

"Mrs Fraser hasn't seen –" 

"My main concern right now is my daughter's well-being," she told her, "and you've got my details on file so I'm sure Mrs Fraser can contact me at a later date." 

Rachel spoke again, "please if you'd just –"

"No." 

(Y/N) picked up Letty's bag and walked over to the desk, with Letty trailing behind her. She quickly signed out on the tablet and the pair walked out of the building. Reaching her car, (Y/N) unlocked it and helped Letty into the passenger seat. Closing her door, she rushed to the driver's side and got in. 

She helped Letty buckle up, before buckling herself in, "everything okay, sweets?" 

"Yeah… uh, thanks." was the response she received, before she started up the car and pulled out of the school parking lot while explaining where they were off to next. 

-- ♡ -- ◇ -- 

"He's always talking shit," Letty explained to (Y/N) about the guy in the office, "it was about time someone shut him up." 

"And you were the person to do so?" 

She shrugged her shoulders, "he ran his mouth and then touched me, so I beat his ass." 

"Two for one special?" 

"Pretty much." 

(Y/N) chuckled, "when your hands heal up, we'll ask one of the guys to teach you a few moves in the ring, thankfully your hands are just bruised and not broken." 

"They still hurt like a bitch." 

"You've got another two hours before you can drink some more painkillers." 

"What would've happened if Coco answered the phone?" Letty questioned.

(Y/N) shook her head, "honey, I don't even think I wanna know what would've happened," she noticed the teen wince, "are you okay?" 

"Yes." 

"Are you sure?"

She huffed, "I'm fine, okay? I was fine when you picked me up. I was fine when we went to the doctor's office. I was fine at the grocery store and I was fine the last time you asked me." 

(Y/N) nodded and pulled into their driveway, putting the car in park, "I'm not gonna apologise about asking how you're feeling. I'm just – I just want to make sure you're okay. But, now I'll stop because I can see I'm annoying you." 

"Yeah, you are." 

She chuckled, "okay, I'll stop, but you'll tell –" 

Letty sighed, "yes, I'll tell you. You really take this parenting thing seriously. I mean… you've been referring to me as your daughter all day and I–I'm not. But you defended me –" 

"And I always will." 

" – against Kyle, his mum and even the receptionist. I–I've never had that before. And, even at the doctor's office you made sure I was seen by a female because you knew it'd make me more comfortable." 

"Letty?" 

"You treat me like I'm yours and you called me your daughter and I… I don't know, I just," she took a deep breath, shook her head and looked out of the window.

(Y/N) waited for her to continue, but she didn't. Thinking back on today's events, she realised she had referred to Letty as her own. She had been doing it in her mind for so long and didn't realise she had said it out in the open. Letty had heard her reference and it seemed to make her uncomfortable and that was something she vowed she wouldn't do. 

"When I started dating your dad he told me about the kids he had. He told me that he wasn't involved in their lives because being away from them was for the best. I asked him what would happen if one day a kid reached out and his response was "if they do, they do. I ain't gonna turn them away", (Y/N) spoke up, "and then you reached out, sweetums. You reached out and your dad took that as a sign. From the moment you entered our lives, it's been a whirlwind of emotions. We're not this picture perfect family, but we're our own version. Despite being almost an adult, Coco still views you as his baby girl. And, honestly, I've been viewing you the same way."

Letty sniffed and looked up, "really?" 

"Absolutely, gorgeous. The moment you stepped through that door you became mine as well," (Y/N) pointed at the front door of their home, before turning to her, "but that doesn't matter if you're not okay with it. I'm not trying to force you to be –" 

"I'm Coco's daughter," she cut in and smiled at (Y/N), "and now I'm yours too." 

(Y/N) beamed with joy and unbuckled her seatbelt, and Letty's, reaching over the middle console to bring the teen into her arms. Letty wrapped her arms around (Y/N), breathing in her (scent). The woman chuckled and kissed her cheek, "I love you, baby girl." 

Letty pulled her closer, "I love you too, mama." 

-♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

Spanish Translations: 

Mi niña - my girl / baby girl

#leticia cruz #letty cruz #johnny cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz #leticia cruz x reader #letty cruz x reader #johnny cruz x reader #johnny coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x reader #x reader #reader insert #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #santo padre #sincerelyasomebody

[naminethewriter]

His Brother’s Wedding

I took part in the @sanderssidesgiftxchange! This is for @feminine-femme who requested Roman/Emile in a Flower Shop/Tattoo Shop Au. This is my first time writing Emile, so I hope I did him justice. Also I put off writing this for a long time and I have more ideas on how the story progresses, so I might write more but we’ll see. I hope you all have fun reading what I have for you now 🥰💖💗

Here on Ao3

Characters: Emile, Grandma Maggie (OC), Roman, Logan & Remus & Remy mentions

Relationships: pre-romantic Romile

Rating: G

Words: 2,473

Summary:  Emile came to help his grandmother in her shop. He didn't expect the handsome guy that comes in to complain about his brother.

After taking one last look around the shop and deeming it clean, Emile put the broom away. Even if there usually wasn’t much foot traffic, he figured the place looking nice wouldn’t be a bad thing. The owner seemingly disagreed.

 “Wasting the first half hour of your shift on cleaning, huh?” Emile sighed and turned around to his grandmother, Margaret. Though more commonly known to him as Grandma Maggie.

 “It’s not a waste, Grandma. It puts me at ease and I can concentrate better.”

 “Yeah, yeah. More importantly, have you checked that the flowers actually have water or is that not so high on your list of priorities?”

 “I checked the water and made sure there are no wilting ones displayed.”

“Well, that’s something I guess,” Maggie scoffed before waving him to the back. Emile knew that she was just cranky because she didn’t like why he was here. She was getting on in years and their family worried about her not being able to handle the shop alone anymore. Emile agreed (not that he would ever tell her that) so he decided to take a break from his psychology degree to help her during this summer. Maggie had only accepted when he told her he would come either way and only lie around the house all day if she didn’t let him work. She grumbly accepted.

 Summer was a special time in this particular coastal town. Especially for a few selected flower shops. Because this region was home to a unique type of flower that only grew under the conditions there. Any attempts at recreating those somewhere else have failed and around 80 years ago a law prevented any more experiments to be conducted. The production and distribution of this flower have since been heavily regulated. Grandma Maggie’s shop is one of only five local stores that are allowed to sell them and she gets a set amount each year (with some small variation depending on the harvest).

 It's formal name Emile couldn’t remember for the life of him but it is most commonly known as: Stardrop. Five petals in yellow, white, or a mix of both with a scent that is calming and light.

 Emile knew that soon this year’s batch would be ready and his grandmother already had a lot of pre-orders, mainly from restaurants and hotels that decorate their establishments with them for the season. Others were for weddings, festivals, or other celebrations. So the first thing he had to learn now was how to make the arrangements and bouquets that would be their main source of income soon.

 In the backroom was a big table already cluttered with vases full of flowers, leaves, twigs, strings, and other types of decoration in a lot of different colors. He knew there was a system here somewhere on how to find something but to him it just looked like a huge mess. Grandma Maggie was already seated and impatiently patted the cushion next to her, so he sat down on the bench, ready to get lectured until either some customers or lunch time comes.

   Emile relished his one-hour lunch break after spending hours under his grandmother’s sharp eyes with only very few interruptions. They had eaten together, upstairs in the apartment where they were now living together for the duration of his stay. Maggie went back down before him while Emile phoned his parents about the current situation.

 Yes, I arrived safely. Yes, Grandma is fine. Yes, I’m helping her in the shop now. Yes, we’re getting along. So on and so forth. Emile loved his parents but they can be quite exhausting to deal with, especially when they’re worried about something.

 After he was finally done, he went back down to the shop and found Maggie at the cash register.

 “Mom and Dad send their love.”

 “Yeah, yeah, they always do. They should worry about their own behinds and not question everything I do,” she scoffed. Emile couldn’t help but laugh.

 “Maybe you’re right.”

 “I’m always right!”

 “I know, I know.” Maggie glared at him and he raised his arms in defense. She scoffed again but didn’t say anything more on the matter.

 “Chloe is coming soon to get the rose bouquet she ordered. I got it done in the back so go get it.”

 “Aye, aye, ma’am.” He evaded her attempt at smacking him in the arm and moved to the back. While looking around the mess of clutter in search of the flowers he remembers his grandmother telling him were for her friend Chloe only about two hours ago, the bell above the shop door rang. A customer.

 “Maggie, you won’t believe what Remus cooked up now!”

 A very loud costumer. Male. Very youthful. And apparently on first name basis with his grandma.

 “How about saying hello first you whippersnapper!” Emile grinned. He really loved how she never changed, always snarky with everyone. Finally, he spotted the bouquet and made his way back front where the costumer was now leaning against the counter, an incredulous look on his face.

 “I’m distraught and you expect me to be courteous? I thought we were past that!” The stranger held a hand over his heart as if she had attacked him and Emile could immediately tell he had an appreciation for theater. The man moved fluently but very overdramatically, and his grandmother watched him with the most unimpressed look she could muster.

 “My, how could I forget. No need for manners just because you had another squabble with your brother. I should be ashamed,” she added in a monotone voice. The man, who had been motioning as if he was about to faint, turned his full attention back to her.

 “Thank you for your understanding, it was very hard indeed!”

 “Mhm, I’m sure it was.” The stranger laughed and reached for her hand but she slapped him away immediately. “Keep your lips away, you scoundrel.” The man laughed louder and Maggie cracked a small smile herself. Finally, he was still enough that Emile could get a good look at his features.

 Brown eyes and hair, tan skin and probably quite a few inches bigger than himself. His smile showed off almost perfect teeth (not that that was something Emile normally noticed but they were almost twinkling in the fluorescent light of the shop). He was dressed in a red jacket with rolled up sleeves, a white shirt underneath and blue jeans. His ears were pierced and a tattoo peaked out at the edge of his shirt collar around the right shoulder.

 Emile found him incredibly handsome.

 And of course that was the moment their eyes met. For a few moments they just stared at each other in shock before the man regained his composure and flashed him his pearly white teeth again.

 “My Maggie, who’ve you been hiding from me back there?” She looked over her shoulder and Emile could see a switch flip in her head. She rolled her eyes before turning back to the stranger.

 “My grandson. Emile, get over here before your eyes fall out.” He flinched lightly, embarrassed that he’d been called out for staring but made his way over to them.

 “Hi, I’m Emile, I’m staying here for the summer.” He wanted to hold out his hand for a handshake before he remembered the vase with the bouquet still in his arms. He quickly set it down, ears burning red.

 “Roman. I work in the shop across the street,” the man introduced himself and grabbed Emile’s hand as soon as it was free. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Maggie told me all about the warden her family would be sending over to guard her from the dangers of working in a flower shop. It is indeed honorable that you took on such a challenge!” He winked and Emile burst out in giggles.

 “We just don’t want her to overwork himself but thanks for the compliment.” Roman gave him another one of his brilliant smiles and as he pulled back, Emile could spot another tattoo on the wrist of his right hand. Without thinking he grabbed the hand again and twisted it around so he could get a better look.

 “Emile don’t be rude,” his grandmother chided and he immediately let go.

 “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize!”

 “It’s fine, it’s fine,” Roman laughed, “most people are curious about it. You can look as long as you want, it’s good advertisement anyway.”

 “Advertisement?”

 “Open your eyes next time you’re outside!” Maggie commented, only confusing Emile more.

 “I work at a tattoo shop. Since it’s directly across the street I assumed you knew what I meant,” Roman explained, letting his arm drop to his side.

 “Oh! I only arrived yesterday and was pretty beat, so I didn’t pay attention. It feels like the shops on this street are always different when I come visit.”

 “I understand the feeling. Whenever I visit my mother I feel the same way.” They smiled at each other until Maggie scoffed again.

 “Your break isn’t gonna last forever, kid. What were you here to tell me? Don’t tell me the plan went wrong this weekend?” Roman’s eyes left Emile and he felt like he finally remembered how to breathe properly. His eyes had been so captivating.

 Wait. Was he already developing a crush?! Remy wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if that was the case. He always said that Emile fell too easily.

 “Oh no, that was fine. Everything went exactly as it should have and Logan said yes, no problem. But of course then came the question of when and you know what they decided on? The end of summer!”

 “Wait, are we talking about a wedding?” Emile asked, wholly out of the loop.

 “Yes. My brother Remus and his boyfriend – well I guess fiancé now – have been together since we were still in school and he finally got the nerve to propose to him, thanks to me of course, so we made a plan and everything and of course Logan said yes, as if he wouldn’t. They’re both way too insecure sometimes.”

 “And they decided to get married at the end of summer?”

 “Yes! Can you imagine?!” Emile and Maggie exchanged a glance, both apparently not quite understanding the problem. Roman seemed to pick up on their confusion.

 “That’s only three months away! How long do they think it takes to organize a wedding?!”

 “Oh! You meant this year. Yeah, that’s quiet soon,” Emile nodded.

 “I know, right? Who in their right mind decides to plan a wedding in three months!”

 “I mean Candace did it in one day, so…” Emile mumbled. Roman blinked at him.

 “Who?”

 “Candace? From Phineas and Ferb?”

 “Oh! I haven’t watched that show in ages! Would be fun to revisit, I guess.”

 “I highly recommend it!” Emile smiled, thankful that Roman didn’t question his knowledge of a cartoon for kids. A lot of people at his university did.

 “Well, I probably won’t have the time any time soon! Because I know my brother, if I don’t keep him on track, nothing will get done.”

 “What about his fiancé?”

 “Logan likes organization and all that, but he gets so absorbed by his work, he’ll forget everything else. And they’re in the middle of a huge project, so I doubt he’ll remember to add the wedding stuff to his to-do list until a few weeks before.”

 “What does he do?”

 “He’s a marine biologist. I’m sure you know the research station. They’re worried about the reef so they’ve been collecting samples non-stop, I think.”

 “I see… Well, I’m sure if you’re there to help, you can all find a way to work with each other.” Roman seemed to deflate a bit at that, ending the overdramatic act he’s been putting on so far. He slumps a bit more and looks at Emile with the insecurity written all over his face.

 “I know,” he sighs. “Somehow we always pull through and they don’t even want a big party but still…” Another sigh. “Remus and I don’t always get along, but I know him the best. He really adores Logan and even if he acts like he doesn’t care if they’ll get married and all that, I know he was super nervous about the proposal. That’s why he put it off for so long. I’m just worried that he’ll try to avoid actually planning the whole thing because he doesn’t want to ruin it and then stress himself and Logan out last minute. He deserves the best wedding he can get.” By the end of his rant, Roman is leaning on his arms on the counter, staring at the stone surface with his brows furrowed. Emile takes a moment to process the information and think about his response before he gently lays a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

 “It’ll be alright, I’m sure. You’re there to help them and it seems like you know what you’re doing. And I can help too if you want. Besides work I don’t really have any plans and I’m sure Grandma would be happy if I don’t hang around here all the time, right, Grandma?” He turns to where she stood but apparently, she had left without him noticing. By the look on Roman’s face, neither had he. They looked at each other and laughed.

 “Thanks for the offer. I’m sure there’ll be something for you to do, even if it’s just arranging the flowers.” Roman winked and Emile giggled.

 “That’s only if I survive my internship.”

 “Internship?”

 “Grandma is teaching me how to make the ordered arrangements in the back. Until I’ve got that down I ‘have no business being in the front’ she said.”

 “That sounds like something she’d say, alright.”

 “You two making fun of me now?” Maggie came back into the room and stares them down. Emile mutters a sorry while Roman just gives her a wink as well. She scoffed. “Get out of my store, kid. Your break’s as good as over.” He stole a glance at the clock, wide-eyed.

 “Damn it. Gotta go! It was nice to meet you, Emile! See you soon.” Before he could respond, Roman was out of the door.

 “If you ask me, he and his brother are more alike than either’d like to admit,” Maggie commented after a moment. Emile, having never met Remus, couldn’t really add anything so he just shrugged.

 “I think he was very nice.”

 “Of course you did, you were making heart eyes at him the entire time.” With one last scoff she moved into the back. Emile followed her, protesting while being beet red in the face. Only when he laid down in bed this evening did he realize he never got a good look at Roman’s tattoo. He’d have to ask again next time.

#namiswriting #my writing #sandersxchange21 #his brother's wedding #romile #roman sanders #emile picani #ts roman #human!au #flowershop!au #tattooshop!au #background intrulogical #grandma maggie #fluff #sanders sides #fanficiton #sanderssides fanfiction

[sigmaleph]

@serinemolecule asked me for hot takes on this 2006 article on Argentinian food, which I am now reorganising into a proper post for y'all's consumption. you're welcome.

First of all: the titular thesis that you should eat two steaks a day. I am forced to clarify that as 'should's go you should eat zero steaks a day, but this is ethical rather dietary advice and I don't follow it as well as I should, so, y'know. I would engage with this on the level it was stated, but I actually have no opinion on it. Moving on...

Argentine beef really is extraordinary. Almost all of this has to do with how the cows are raised. There are no factory feedlots in Argentina; the animals still eat pampas grass their whole lives, in open pasture, and not the chicken droppings and feathers mixed with corn that pass for animal feed in the United States.

This is, as it happens, completely false. There absolutely is plenty of feedlot beef being eaten in Argentina, and this was also the case back when this article was written. There's grass-fed beef too, and maybe the writer structured their life around only eating those, but the claim that there are no feedlots is just not true.

if you let them make the call, you get a two-inch thick of meat[...]The Argentine steak stands alone, towering three inches over the plate,[...]This gorgeous specimen is called a lomito; it's a standard lunchtime steak, clearly so thin that the Argentines are embarrassed to send it out into the world without a protective wrapping of ham and cheese

I have no idea what their obsession with steak thickness is; meat exists at various levels of thick and thin to suit various tastes. If you like yours thick that's fine but quit the projecting, y'know.

As you might expect, vegetarians will have a somewhat rough time here. For most people in Argentina, a vegetarian is something you eat. One's diet will accordingly lean heavily on pastas, gnocchi, salads, and (for the less squeamish ) fish. Vegans will not survive in Argentina.

This is, unfortunately, true (well, hyperbole, but). Rinna had a rather bad time trying to find vegan food when fae came over for visits. The situation is improving slowly, at least.

The homemade cookies bought in the minimarket downstairs taste of steak. [picture of alfajores de maicena[

Jesus. Find somewhere better to buy your snacks.

It should be no surprise that the land of beef also has excellent milk and butter. The milk comes in plastic bags that would give any American marketing department a heart attack. They proudly advertise "GUARANTEED 100% BRUCELLOSIS AND HOOF-AND-MOUTH FREE". One brand even brags that its bacteria count never exceeds 100,000 per mL, and prints daily statistics to prove it (only 82,000 bacteria/mL on Monday! mmm!).

Are you under the impression American milk doesn't contain bacteria and that when it spoils it's because of the molecules' sheer willpower? Or do you just object to the reminder that they exist?

This menu is delicious, but with rare exceptions it is all you are going to get. People coming for more than a few weeks are advised to bring a discreet bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Eat at better restaurants.

With any order from the master menu comes the Bread Basket, which should be treated as you would treat a basket of wax fruit, that is, as a purely decorative ornament. It is considered bad form to actually eat anything from Bread Basket

What are you talking about. Do all your dining companions just suck, eat some bread.

Dulce de leche is a culinary cry for help. It says "save us, we are baffled and alone in the kitchen, we don't know what to do for dessert and we're going to boil condensed milk and sugar together until help arrives". This cloying dessert tar is so impossibly sweet that you wish you were ten years old again, just so you could actually enjoy it. It is everywhere. There is a special dulce de leche shelf in the supermarket dairy case, and the containers go up to a liter in size. Even the churros are stuffed with it - the churros, Montresor!

It is rare that I feel insulted for the sake of my country, but this? How dare you.

Yes, of course we fill churros with dulce de leche; the real question is why anyone doesn't, short of dietary restrictions. Finding out that people do otherwise was like learning that in other countries, "sandwich" just means two slices of bread. Live a little. Eat a real godsdamned churro.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how meals work in Argentina, and they remain a mystery to me. Dinner is clear enough: people tend to go to restaurants beginning at ten o'clock (for those with small children), with the main rush around eleven, and dinner is pretty much over at one or so in the morning. And breakfast - or rather, its absence - follows as a logical consequence of eating a steak the size of a beagle at midnight. But I have yet to figure out whether people eat some kind of meal in the afternoon, and if so, when.

At... noon? Like. We eat lunch. Usually somewhere around 12:00. I am eating lunch right now, and I have done so essentially every day of my life. This is just baffling.

I've come to think the culprit in the missing Argentine lunch scene is yerba mate.

how.

Where the ignorant foreigner may see just another kind of herbal tea (yerba mate is a very unassuming shrub that grows in the northern parts of the country) the Argentine sees a taste treat of unimaginable subtlety, and a tonic for all his problems. The Wikipedia article on proper mate preparation should give you a warning of the level of obsessiveness attainable here (the Urugayans are even worse). To the virgin palate, mate tastes like green tea mixed with grass clippings. The beverage is traditionally drunk out of a little gourd, through a metal straw called a bombilla, with hot (but not boiling!!) water poured into it (without wetting the surface!! clockwise!!) from a thermos.

Yeah, this is accurate. Well, not the clockwise part, never heard anyone complain about that and I can't imagine it mattering.

What distinguishes mate from coffee and tea is the social context - two or more people share a gourd, with a designated pourer in charge of refilling it with hot water after each turn. The ritual is low-fuss but indispensible. You can buy mate gourds and thermoses in any grocery store, and get your thermos filled with hot water at any convenience store or gas station, but you will never see mate served in restaurants or sold in little disposable paper gourds, to go. it's not that people refuse to drink mate alone - anyone working a solitary shift will have a gourd in hand - but that the concept of being served mate by someone who does not share it with you seems impossible.

This is also true. Attempts have been made to sell to-go mate but it's never very popular, the social ritual is important. Also unfortunately a disease vector, I haven't had any mate in a year and a half.

Mate aficionados will tell you that mate contains a special compound, mateine, that serves as a tonic and mild stimulant, promoting alertness without making it hard to sleep, reducing fatigue and appetite, helping the digestion and serving as a mild diuretic. Scientists will tell you that mateine bears a suspicious resemblance to a chemical called caffeine. Mate aficionados will then grow indignant, explaining that mateine is really a stereoisomer (mirror image) of caffeine, with different effects, which will in turn irritate the scientists, who will snap that caffeine doesn't have a chiral center, so it can't have a distinguishable mirror image, and why don't the mate aficionados just put a sock in it.

The first part of this is true; some people definitely think "mateine" is different from caffeine and it absolutely isn't. Never heard the stereoisomer claim before but googling it does confirm some people say so.

still have no idea what any of this has to do with lunch, though. I promise you nobody skips lunch because mate is just too filling.

The wine here is very good (something has to stand up to that steak), but Argentina has no liquor to call its own, relying on whiskies like Old Smuggler and the low-maintenance Don Juan cognac to carry the flag.

There's a fundamental omission from this list and it's called fernet.

Beer is ubiquitous and comes in a bewildering variety of sizes, although there is a skittishness about the full-on liter. Things level off at 970 mL. In my case, it means I end up drinking 1940 mL of beer as a kind of personal protest, and all is well with the world. To make up for the abundance of sizes, beer comes in only one variety, Quilmes, which inevitably comes served with a tripartite platter of snacks - nuts, salty cylinders, and aged potato chips.

I never had trouble buying beer by the litre, but I confess I never tried to do so in 2006 on account of being under 18 at the time.

Anyway, beer comes in a lot more varieties today, thankfully, because Quilmes sucks. I'll never be a beer person, but at least these days there's options I tolerate.

[original post]

#dreamwidth crosspost

[bastillewolf]

Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

Tag list currently closed.

Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

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