#were talking about the look but also manslaughter because he seems to be close to it too 🌱

[elpuppies]

Atleti players when someone plays Running Up To The Hill on the bus

#im guilty of joy finding in their misery #love preseasonn #thomas lemar #atleti #but seriously its just nice to see them #and nice to see thomas slaying #were talking about the look but also manslaughter because he seems to be close to it too 🌱

[cherryatiny]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

GIFs are not mine, credit goes to their respective owner

❁ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

It was no secret that your sugar daddy Hongjoong is a born aristocrat, as his rich taste in everything showed up a lot. Ever since a young age, he was taught to love art in all its forms. When his grandparents passed away sadly, he was the chosen one to inherit the prestigious art gallery their family ran for more than 7 decades.

Although he wasn't an artist of the top level, his love to express himself through art never died. So the very first day he took over the gallery, the first thing he ordered his subordinates to do, was to clear out the smaller room in the back of the director's office.

Soon after, he designed the space to an art studio of his liking, where he could freely spend his free time painting, reconstructing clothes, or just rest while stimulating his brain to function more creatively.

Soon after he met you and you two got into the sugar daddy relationship, he found his muse in you. At first, it started by him just taking pics of you at the moments he deemed to be artsy, not long after that he however started calling you to his little studio in the gallery he ran. Always making you sit or lay down on the old valuable settee, that looked like the ones from Renaissance paintings.

Taking you by your hand, he showed you the paintings of the new exhibition he was preparing. The paintings harmonized well, all of them tuned in a dark abstract setting. Loosening your hand out of his grip, you grasped his wrist the same he did with your often, dragging him to the office. He was slightly taken by surprise as he did not expect you to drag him there since you haven't agreed on him painting you today. „Lay down, for today, you'll be my muse Joongie.“

He was laying on the settee, looking up at the ceiling, so his side-profile was fully visible to you, as you painted him on the canvas. Mixing colours to your liking, you made the portrait of your Hongjoong look abstract, as it matched the art style he often used.

After hours of painting, when you did the last line with your paintbrush, you sighed out tiredly, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you observed your creation. „My muse, you can come here and admire yourself on the canvas.“ Standing up swiftly, he came over to you, leaning forward, his arm wrapping around the shoulder of your sitting self as he was all eyes on the painting.

„It's... spectacular. I- I'm at a loss of words, why did you never tell me you had a talent for painting my darling? If I added this painting to the exhibition there, I can guarantee you, that this will be the most favoured painting in my gallery.“

❁ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

You don't even know why you applied to become Seonghwa's secretary a few months ago, considering you've never worked in this type of branch. But it was probably the best decision of your life because if you wouldn't have applied for the secretary position, you wouldn't have met your sugar daddy Seonghwa.

At first, the work was a disaster as your relationship with your boss didn't start off very well. He was giving you tons of work to do, the stupidest arrangements that were completely unnecessary to make, or the most boring workshops and meetings to take you to with him.

But after the one night at a business conference in Milan when you two got closer than one would expect you to and got into the sugar daddy relationship, his attitude to you drastically changed.

Your secret relationship also made him give you easier and different tasks to do, he as well deemed you to be more reliable than before, which resulted in him giving you free hand in literally everything. He was actually taken aback by how competent you were at your tasks. Doing everything you were told to do, ten times better than he would have probably done.

One night, as you two were cuddling on the couch in his place while looking out of the large glass wall with the sighting of the whole town, he spoke out, „Y/N why didn't you tell me you had such talent for scheduling, strategic planning and business stuff? I should have made you the director of strategic planning or something like that. But then... I get to be closer to you when you're my secretary, my beautiful baby.“

❁ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Ah, shit! The actress who was supposed to play the walk-on in the hospital scene with Yunho, can't get here as something happened to her. What do we do now?“ yelled the director out of frustration as the actress announced she can't arrive just a few minutes before they were supposed to shoot.

You were just finishing your sugar daddy Yunho's outfit for the shoot as you were the main costumer for this k-drama. Yunho stood up from his seat as you finished his stylist, bending down to plant a kiss on your lips, before going over to the director with a worried look on his usually joyful face.

You were clearing off the stuff you used on him back to where it belonged to. Eyeing Yunho talk with the director from distance, the two of them occasionally flashing looks at you. When they stopped talking, Yunho jogged to you with the beaming smile you knew that well on his face. His puppy-like features always flashed out when he had any good news, giving him the look that was asking him what he wanted to say.

„Get changed. You've got the role of the girl who's missing.“ you raised your eyebrows at what he just said, taken aback as you did not really understand what he was talking about. You and acting? „Come on, get dressed, we don't have much time. Here's the script.“ handing you the bunch of papers and the outfit the girl was supposed to wear, he motioned for you to go to the changing room.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you went away from the shooting site. „Wow, ms. Y/N, are you sure you didn't study acting? Although it was supposedly your first time acting, it was so natural. Wow, I'm glad Yunho showed you to me, you are for real like a hidden gem. Would you... maybe be interested in any more acting in future?“ asked the director with a glance of hope in his eyes after you finished shooting the small part in the k-drama your sugar daddy was starred in. Looking at him, wondering what Yunho's opinion was, the proud and encouraging smile on his face hinting that he really wanted you to accept the offer made by his boss.

„I'm so proud of you princess. My little talented actress, I love you.“

❁ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Groaning softly, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, looking at the empty spot beside you. You were sleeping at Yeosang's home, but as you could see, he didn't seem to be sleeping. Slipping your feet into the fluffy slippers with rabbit eyes, you wrapped your body tighter in Yeosang's shirt you were sleeping in, as the air was rather cool.

Opening the door of his bedroom, you went down the stairs of his apartment, down to the living room where a small table lamp was lit. Your sleepy sugar daddy sitting by the desk covered in many papers that seemed to be related to his prosecutor work.

Approaching him, you caressed his shoulder, which woke him up from his quick nap, „Mhm, Y/N. You can go back to sleep, I'll be there soon, I just have to finish this.“ You knew well that that wasn't the case and he won't be there soon. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting down on his lap, his hand caressing your exposed thighs. „What are you working on, Yeo?“

„I'm treading through the case files, but I just can't take the next step. The police want me to indict him of murder, but the defendant is justifying himself saying that it was an accident and that he should be only indicted of manslaughter.“ Taking the case files from his hand, you read through them since your unbiased opinion might be of help to him.

Taking a pen from his desk, you underlined the facts you thought were important in your lay opinion. Handing it to him, he read focused on the underlined sentences, his eyes lighting up in hope. „Oh my god, Y/N. You're the saviour of my life, this is the core issue but it hasn't even struck up to me. I love you so much, my little prosecutor.“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Sannie, could you please tie my swimsuit?“ you held your hair in a ponytail so it did not get into the way as San tied the ribbon on the back of your swimsuit. You smiled at him as a way to say thank you, leaving the hotel suite your sugar daddy San reserved for you two to enjoy your vacation to the fullest.

San took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining as you walked down the hotel's luxurious corridors to the private beach. „Now, what does my beautiful baby plan on doing today?“ questioned san as he pulled you to him as close as possible. „Hm, I don't know, I'll probably do nothing all day long, just lay on the beach and sunbathe.“

„Then I'll keep you company while you do your nothing.“ giggles were leaving you two as you talked more while on the way to the sea. But as you started nearing the beach, loud dance music coming from the speakers. „What's that...?“ As you got to the beach, a group of people was doing dance work-outs there to the rhythm of the music.

„I have no idea what they are doing, but let's try Y/N“ and without giving you a chance to protest, San tugged you there by your wrist, right to the centre of the imaginary dance floor. He started dancing just as the instructor did, gesturing you to do the same.

Soon after you submitted to his nagging, doing the same as him to the rhythm of the energetic music. „Y/N, you're doing so well. Would I have known about your talent to dance, I would have taken you to some studio a long ago.“

❁ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

After that one ball, you two met together at, you got invited to countless more balls to keep your boss company. Over that many times you two spent together, you get to know each other more and more until eventually, he somehow became your sugar daddy and boyfriend in one.

Tonight was very special, Mingi as the chairman of one of the biggest conglomerates in the country, got invited to the ball held by the president for the most influential people in the country. And when he stopped by your apartment with a beautiful night-robe, a pair of brand-new heels and a golden envelope with the letter of invitation in it, you almost fainted from the delight you felt.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but watch you like a movie on nights like this. Because you seemed so interested in these events, that it truly amazed him how you could act so interested in the talk of the attendants when it bore him to death. You just seemed so natural at attending events like this, you could dance, you knew all the protocol rules, you could pretend interest or know how to answer to the business talk others often held with you. He just couldn’t help but admire the talent you had for the formal events.

Excusing you from their speech, Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist, taking you to the middle of the dance floor as your favourite dance song was playing. Moving slowly, you melted into his touch as you enjoyed each other’s presence dancing the slow dances. „I'm amazed my dear Y/N, I can't bring myself to be interested in talking to these egoistic geezers for more than 5 minutes. Thank god I have you, my talented princess.“

❁ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

When you spent the night at your sugar daddy Wooyoung’s place, you usually weren’t allowed to even be near the kitchen as he insisted “he treats his princess food and she shouldn’t cook, because what if she cuts herself?” so today, as he had to rush to the work early in the morning because of some urgent, leaving you in his immense mansion alone.

And that meant you had a free pass to cook something in his kitchen. But seeing how emptied his fridge was, you opted for something more simple in a form of stir-fried tofu with vegetables. Washing the fresh vegetables thoroughly, you dried them, placing them on the breadboard, to cut them. All of his knives were sharp as Wooyoung was doing his best to keep his kitchen in the best state.

Throwing the tofu cubes onto the pan with a heated droplet of olive oil, you stirred them until they roasted into golden colour, adding the cut vegetables and cooking rice in the meanwhile. Not at all realizing that there was a pair of eyes watching you from the doorframe.

Leaving you like that, Wooyoung in the meanwhile went to change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, maybe a quick shower. And so when he came back, you were already turning off the stove. „Well, well, well, what do I see? Looks like someone used my kitchen behind my back.“

You jumped in your place lightly, your breathing heavy at how startled you were upon Wooyoung talking to you out of nowhere. „Jung Wooyoung, for how long have you been there?“ he put on a grimace, pretending to be pondering over it. „Probably ever since you added the veggies to eat and started singing to those annoying songs.“

„They’re not annoying, you’re just too old to understand them. Anyway, if you want to nag at me for using your kitchen, do it after you taste my delicious meal. Seems like you were in rush this morning, so you probably haven’t eaten anything“ Placing the plate in front of him, you sat opposite of him, waiting to see what his reaction would be as he had never tasted your cookings before.

„Mhmm, are you sure you’ve cooked it yourself? If so... why have I never let you in my kitchen, when this is so delicious? Gosh, my princess is such a good cook.“ Your smile was full of delight at his compliment as you watched him stuff his mouth full of your food.

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I’m going to the restroom, you’ll wait for me, right?“ you nodded, watching your sugar daddy Jongho leave the studio. Standing up, you sat down on the now-emptied armchair in front of the PC screens, your eyes scanning the colourful music segments on the screen.

You picked up the sheaf of papers with the notes to his newest song, along with the lyrics he’s written himself. Your eyes ran over the notes and the lyrics and as you were re-reading the text for the 3rd time, you started humming to it, trying to get the right melody Jongho was intending on having in the song.

Opening the door to the studio, Jongho noticed you sitting on the chair, your back turned to him and that resulted in you still being oblivious to his presence. And he didn’t dare to make a move, standing in the door-frame and watching you humming to the song in amazement that you weren’t tone-deaf like most non-musical people were, as you hit all the tones.

„Woah Y/N, are you a trained singer or something? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at music? I would have taken you here long time ago...“

❁ taglist : @galaxteez @gyubaby @bobateastay @tinytinyblogs @ateezinmymind @chososchaos @cvtiehoon @a-soft-hornytiny

#IT'S SHITTY I'M SORRY #I PLANNED IT BEFORE HAND BUT I STILL HAD WRITERS BLOCK #ateez #sugar daddy!ateez #ateez sugar daddy au #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons

[le-poor-writer]

Serve at First Sight (Kageyama Tobio x F!Reader)

"I bet I can..." Hinata mumbled and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Hah?" Kageyama glared back. "What did you just say?"

"I'm not good at setting. BUT I BET I CAN HIT THE LONGEST AND FASTEST SERVE!"

"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"

"YOU WANNA GO NOW?"

"Uh... Kageyama, Hinata, Stop messing around or else you'll get an earful from Daichi-san." Yamaguchi tries to mediate the situation. The last time the idiotic duo did something stupid, all the first years had to run extra laps. And he was not up for that today.

"No use talking to idiots Yamaguchi." Tsukki sneered. "They have an IQ capacity of a teaspoon."

Hinata stood at the line of the court, deciding to go first. Throwing the ball into the air, he jumped as high as he could. As if he were a crow that leaped into the sky. His ball managed to land a good one meter away from line of the opposite side. A loud bang resonating the court and he beamed smugly at his tall opponent. Kageyama had a ball ready in hands as he took Hinata's place. Itching to outperformed the record set by the orange-head. Closing his eyes, he briefly replayed Oikawa's diabolical jump serve from their previous practice match. He knew he was a hundred years too early to be able to do that. Doesn't mean he won't try his luck though.

With a deep exhale, he took flight. Blocking out all sounds surrounding him, save that of his squeaking shoes and the volleyball as he slapped it forward. The stinging sensation felt on his hand causing him to grin. Not quite like Oikawa's, but still powerful. This is it, it will definitely plunge further than Hinata's. And it did. The ball flew pass that one meter mark. And hit a person. Kageyama's eyes blinked twice before the situation finally seeped through his thick skull. He had hit someone's head! Suddenly he could hear his surroundings again. Hinata panicked scream. Yamaguchi running towards the unfortunate human being who fell to the ground. Tsukki trying not to laugh at this slapstick comedy.

Kageyama sprinted towards the person. A hundred thoughts running through his mind. Is the person alright? Is he going to get in trouble with Daichi for this? Where are the third years anyway? Most importantly, when was that person there? How is it he did not notice them? What were they doing there in the first place? Surely no one would actually collapsed from that hit, right? He stood behind Yamaguchi who was trying to communicate with the seemingly unconscious person. And that was when Kageyama noticed, the person was a girl. A petite girl. He kneeled beside Yamaguchi. She seemed to be a little pale.

"Hello?" Yamaguchi tapping her shoulder. "Excuse me, can you hear me?"

No reply.

"KAGEYAMA KILLED SOMEONE!" Hinata hollered.

"What are you going to do now Kageyama?" Despite knowing that she only passed out, Tsukki decided to humour Hinata.

"I'll take her to the nurse's office." Immediately he carried her and jogged out of the court. Hoping not to run into anyone. Especially Daichi.

He couldn't help but glance at her face every three seconds. Wondering if she will wake up midway. But she didn't and that worried him more. If it weren't for her soft faint breaths he would have thought that he actually committed manslaughter with his jump serve. Besides, she has such a small frame. He was afraid if he really did break her. Kageyama held her closer to his body. Noticing how she fit snugly in his arms. And when looked closely, she's actually really cute. A blush spread quickly all over his face. What was he thinking? He doesn't even know her.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) blinked slowly. Feeling slightly dazed.

She woke up late today, all because of that stupid extra Japanese literature homework that had to be submitted during first period. And because she woke up late, she skipped breakfast. She wanted to get something during lunch, but had to drop by the school library to return some books that were due today. Well what do you know, apparently everyone needed to return their books today. If she had known she would've asked her friends to at least get her melon bread. She had about 10 minutes left before lunch ended, but she ran into her senior and was reminded to submit the club activities report today.

It was so hard to focus on classes for the rest of the afternoon. She drank lots of water in hopes to delay the impending dizziness. It was somewhat working. She only needed to wait until clubs and activities time. She'll get a sugary drink from the vending machine, then tell the club leader that she's going to head home early. But karma really had to be a bitch today. Her wallet was not in her bag. (Y/n) dreaded the fact that she might have dropped it somewhere. Searching for her wallet with this now nasty migraine is really going to be such a pain. That is until she suddenly remembered she left it in her drawer at home. She had forgotten about it amidst the rush.

(Y/n) crouched in front of the vending machine. What are the gods playing at exactly. Is it really so hard to get a single bite? Is this karma for denying Mr. Snuggles his treat last week? Well it was not her fault that he knocked over her pudding off the table! She was on the verge of tears when she heard the sound of volleyballs. Oh right, the vending machine was sort of close to the volleyball court... Didn't Yachi say she was recently the co-manager for Karasuno's volleyball club along with that beautiful senior Kiyoko. There is hope. She only needed a little money to get that small carton of drink.

She stood up quickly and regretted it. God, this migraine is killing her. With every ounce of determination she had left, she dragged her feet towards the court. Swaying a little every now and then. The sounds were getting louder, The ball hitting the court, shoes squeaking and people yelling? This is a good thing, it meant that she was getting closer. This is also a bad thing, because it's splitting her skull. Everything around her blurred as she entered the hall. Shit, where is Yachi? She took a few more steps before she felt a hard impact on her head. Dear lord that hurts like hell. And she lost all control of her body before everything went black.

"Oi." a gruff voice distracted her thoughts.

She sat up immediately. Hitting her head on the bed post in the process. She has realized by now that she must have passed out and someone from the volleyball club took her to the nurses office. It must have been this boy sitting beside her. But that still didn't mean she wouldn't be caught off guard. She has always been somewhat intimidated by the male species. Especially those tall towering ones that had to bend a little to talk to her. It's one of the unfortunate things one has to endure being 4'10 and having a small frame. People often joked that she could fit in a suitcase. Though seeing her other shorter friends did brought her pleasure, it still doesn't change the fact that a lot of people around her were giants.

"Idiot."

"Excuse me?" she glared. What's the big idea calling her an idiot out of nowhere. He was the one who surprised her. Sitting on a stool at her bedside, ain't that too close for a stranger, sir?  Who is he again? The volleyball club is pretty popular here in Karasuno after they managed to get into the finals of Inter high recently. It was unfortunate that they lost to Aoba Johsai, but everyone acknowledged what a monster the school was. Yachi said everyone felt down but it didn't dampened their spirit, for their next chance will be the Spring Tournament.

"S-sorry." the guy replied.

Dark eyes darting away from her face. She could make out an intimidating look on his face. Eyebrows furrowing sternly. Lips set on a grim line. Yet his cheeks flushed. Or was it because of the orange hue from the setting sun (she couldn't really tell), which also made his black hair glow. It dawned upon (y/n) that if he could just smooth away his frown, he would be handsome (she thinks). And if only he weren't being gruffy. Wait a minute. Tall volleyball player, black hair, intimidating frowning face but yet somehow still good looking?

"I'm Kageyama Tobio-"

"I know."

Silence... Well that was awkward.

She cleared her throat. "I'm (L/n) (Y/n). From Class 5. Um, Yachi's friend."

"Oh." Shoot. He didn't know she was Yachi's friend. What will the manager say about this. "I'm sorry. That my jump serve knocked you out."

"No no no! I was actually a little hypoglycemic. So your uh, jump serve was just the final nail in the coffin." Damn, she knew that getting hit by any ball was going to hurt. But the ball just now, it felt like it could tear her head off. Or maybe that's just an exaggeration of being starved the whole day. She realized his expression went from frowning to horrifying. "N-not that it will literally be the final nail to my coffin! It was just an expression. Maybe not a good one. Sorry I'm just bad with words when it comes to strangers. I mean not that you're an absolute stranger. It's just that- I'm sorry, I'm blabbering too much."

"Not at all!" he yelled. Ah, he got too animated. He didn't understand why. But he just thought everything about this girl is cute. From her petite stature that makes him want to shield her from the wind. To her way of talking that showed just how shy and awkward she was as how it is with him. Trying to reassure him that it was fine. He couldn't understand this sudden grip in his heart and the tingling sensation at his fingertips. Though maybe it was because he hasn't touch the volleyball for a few hours now.

Another awkward silence ensues.

"Anyways," (Y/n) was still a bit shy. She was after all talking to one of the most popular boys at school. But seeing as how he is now, she thought she could loosen up her guard a bit. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"You wear glasses?"

They rushed back together to the volleyball court. Yachi attacked her with a hug as she lamented about the news she heard from her fellow peers. Daichi scolding him to be careful next time whilst Tanaka giving him his infamous gangster glare. Hinata coming forward with his head down as he presented (Y/n)'s broken glasses. He accidently stepped on them when he was panicking, though he only realised it when she was sent to the nurse's office. Her glasses must have fallen off her head when she got hit. That hard huh. Really God, you want to test her that much today. Fine, she'll apologize to Mr. Snuggles when she gets home.

Unbeknownst to her, Kageyama felt even worse than earlier. His ball caused her to knocked out, and now it even knocked off the glasses from her head and broke it. Stuttering on his words, he apologized again. Hands balled into a tight fist. He just felt so bad. Suga noticed how dejected he sounded. But he also noticed how pink his ears were. Oh? Well even if it wasn't what he thought, there was no harm in... light teasing. Besides, they'd looked adorable together, no?

"If you really feel guilty. Then you should walk her home today." slinging his arm over Kageyama's shoulder, Suga tried to keep a neutral expression. Well there was a slight smirk, but he tried. "What if she falls down on her way home? Or run into a pole?"

"I am short-sighted Sugawara-senpai. Not blind." (Y/n) said through gritted teeth. Really these eyesight jokes should be old by now. "Besides, I will need to stop by the optic shop to have new ones made."

"All the more for him to accompany you. It will get dark soon. Might be dangerous to be walking alone with such bad eyesight."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to burden-"

"Let's go." Kageyama interrupted. And when she declined again, he argued back. "Stop being a stubborn idiot. You still haven't eaten, you can't see well and you're so light that people can just easily carry you away."

Did he just called her an idiot for the second time in the short the period they have known each other. How rude! Not that his points were invalid. He was right. But boy does this person lack delicacy. In the end, she agreed to let him accompany her. He bought two cartons of milk from the vending machine. One for each of them, and they set off on their merry way.

~~~~~~~~~~

"No- Okay. Once again. Osmosis only works with solvents. Simple diffusion, both solvents and solutes. So in osmosis, solvents will move from low solute concentration-" (Y/n) stopped explaining when she noticed how Kageyama's brows were almost touching. His lips formed a small pout. "You know what, we have been revising for more than an hour. Let's take 5. Then continue for another hour. It's getting late and although my mum likes you, my dad wouldn't like you being in my room for too long."

Ever since that day where he sent her home, she began hanging out more with Yachi and the volleyball club. Not that she never hung out with her close friend, it's just that (y/n) felt out of place when she mingles with unfamiliar crowds. But now that every member knew her as the girl who got hit by Kageyama's jump serve, that became the basis of her acquaintanceship with the club and she got to hang out with Yachi more. And before she realized it, Kageyama has just been around her circle. Always there. Heck he has been walking her home more often now that even her mother likes him. Then they became just friends. Or she hoped it stayed that way, because she noticed her emotions began crossing unknown territories.

(Y/n) has come to learn a few things about Kageyama Tobio over the course of their friendship. One, he is an obsessed volleyball freak. A prodigy people say. But what (Y/n) sees is a person consumed by passion for the things he loves. And that isn't necessarily bad. Two, he can be quite childish. He fails to control his frustration which later comes off the wrong way whenever he expresses them. But really he means no harm, because when he is happy, he expresses them genuinely. And three, he is quite sensitive. He may want to show that he didn't care, but he actually takes things to heart. He may feel down about a comment, but he will learn to improve from it.

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"For having to teach an idiot like me."

"Oh stop it. Everyone is good and bad at something. We can't all be the perfect prodigy. That's just how things are. You may be bad at studying, but with your volleyball skills I bet you can represent Japan one day." noticing his eyes lit up, she continued. "So in order for you to attend your camp. Let's just try our best okay?"

Kageyama nodded. It was a little embarrassing to have her comforting him like this. But at the same time it brings him immense joy. When he first met her, he would get flutters looking at her cute appearance. Now, he just feels all warm and fuzzy whenever she talks to him. He liked that she didn't judge him or anyone she's ever met. She would scold him sometimes, but at the same time explained her reasoning. And he really appreciated that, how patient she was with him. It does make him guilty, but at the same time he wants to start behaving better. Is this what Suga meant when he said he has a crush on (Y/n)? Kageyama doesn't really know. He will need time to analyze everything.

"(L/n), do you have time during our Spring Tournament?" he tried looking anywhere else but her face.

"You want me to cheer on the club? Sure thing."

"Yes." Hearing her reply made him smile. With a steady gaze he stared straight into her eyes. "Watch me play, (y/n). I'll show you a really strong serve."

(Y/n) could only smile back as she felt butterflies in her stomach. "Then we better get back to studying."

#kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fandom #haikyuu fanfiction #karasuno #short reader #kageyama tobio x (y/n) #kageyama x fem reader #haikyuu fanfic rec #cute #haikyuu fluff #oneshot #one shot #accidents #haikyuu oneshot

[bibiana112]

(whips out entire deck of cards like yugioh and they all have numbers for comfort character ask game) aoi um 2 4 6 7 12 13 15. CAN I ASK HALF THE GAME i like talk about him you see

I took forever on this!!!! I hope that's okay aah

★ Comfort character ask game!

2. whether or not they’ve ever made me cry

Surprisingly I don't thiiink so? For all the hot girl summer breakdowns I do indeed be having and no longer feeling shame over crying it's still actually pretty difficult to move me to tears? If I say certain things or scenes made me cry it's probably not hyperbole it's just me highlighting it cause it was surprising and made me more fond of whatever it was for it, but that said, on my second playthrough I was like okay this is totally gonna get to me about like both the safe ending stuff and the true ending backstory stuff but,, then it didn't, I got all mushy and couldn't speak to my friend right but no tears. so like yeah I need a lot of preexisting investment on a character and surprise at new developments for it to get to me like that usually and it's so close to the last stretch of the game that you can really fully understand his character for it to count so what I'm saying is if he was in another game ever I'd probably definitely have cried

4. what about their personality i like

That's such a fun question about him since so much of what we see is an act lmao but like, even with that I still like how easily he seems to convert skin crawling anxiety into am angy energy despite not genuinely wanting to antagonize most people in there, like the character he's putting on is argumentative and very aggressive sounding but he's never like shown to be in any way physically violent when push comes to shove, putting the planned gun stuff aside and also like yeah less of a stretch that he'd have no qualms about hurting Hongou if need be, but even then with like when Door 3 happens for example and he has every reason to follow through when he threatens Junpei he immediately just drops it after Akane's outburst cause it's not his real response to the situation (also she'd be sadder if they fought), also I like how he has some slip ups here and there that like he recovers from pretty instantly but they're still more noticeable than whatever Akane ever has going on for example but okay, allll of that aside my favorite bit is definitely the little we know of him before everything we know he worked really hard to be a good sibling to Akane and was really considerate when taking care of her to the point of keeping up the Santa thing even through the harsh circumstances

6. the moment of theirs that made me the saddest

Good question, difficult question, you were right he's such an upsetting character to think about, uh hardly anything good happens to this guy doesn't it, I'm torn between hearing him over the speaker on the safe ending and well obvi the incinerator thing but also like, not exactly an Aoi moment, but Snake explaining how him and Akane were never reported missing always gets to me a lot too like hhh yeah I could be all day listing every instance that comes to mind couldn't I, hmm. I'll say. It's very especially heartbreaking to get to the part with tiny them in the lifeboat because he's just so damn relieved that whole nightmare is over but we know it's not,,,

7. the moment of theirs that made me the happiest

Reunion huuuug!!! That was the one I was the closest to actually crying during and like scenes that are like this that are happy and a relief are the ones that most get to me everytime but also honestly I can't think of any other genuinely happy moment we get from him

12. what i like about the way the fandom portrays them

I am trying to phrase this in the nicest most family friendly possible way but. I really like how we all decided his vibes are manipulate manslaughter manwhore with an emphasis on the latter akasjksnk probably the one time I took a look at fanon, nodded and said yeah I'll incorporate that into how I perceive the character, I think it works lmao

13. what i dont like about the way the fandom portrays them

THERE'S NO REASON FOR US TO BELIEVE HE IS A RUDE JERK WITH ZERO COMPASSION FOR OTHERS OUTSIDE OF THE ACT C'MON PEOPLE HE RAISED ANOTHER KID WHILE GROWING UP HE'D PROBABLY BE A CHRONIC MOM FRIEND UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES AKANE DOESN'T EVEN CURSE Okay but in all seriousness I guess the best way to put it is that I don't like how fandom portrays him as impulsive? Like, that was one of the traits he put on but that out of every other one I can't really see him genuinely being at all, no matter how you stretch it, like I do think he's more emotionally driven than Akane but they both are very much aware of everything they do, the stuff they both pull off are complex and intricate and have not inches of space for mistakes that acting like that on the regular could bring, even if he's being reckless I don't think he'd default to do stuff without thinking y'know he's not like Junpei who jumps no thoughts head empty into any fist fight out of a sense of justice or something I think it'd be out of being too antsy and anxious and needing something to physically happen and thinking okay this won't end well but I'm doing it anyway, like I've even seen people having him snap at Akane at the drop of a hat like?? Because of him feeling guilty no less??? I really don't like interpretations where he's not entirely on board with all the manslaughter too like c'mon people the thing that's weighing on him is not protecting his sister from these people plus the innocents that need to get involved, I think seeing the executives bodies genuinely gets to him but only in like a physiological sense cause he didn't get a preview of how gorey it'd all get but, like that has nothing to do with regretting the actions that lead up to it in any way shape or form, they kind of kidnapped and tortured him and other kids who no one actually cared enough about to get justice for and one of them brutally killed his sister in front of him I really don't think he gives a shit there but also c'mon that doesn't at all mean he doesn't give a shit about any human life other than those guys like c'mon guys some nuance here for him too pls people act like Akane's the only one allowed to have any

15. what i dont like about the way canon portrayed them

Actually I don't like how canon forgets to portray him at all more than anything, also the staircase comment thing really really bothers me but I'm willing to pretend for a second Uchi's horny bullshit doesn't apply and it was just a dumb thing for him to say while in character

#I am holding out hope that playing on my nostalgic ass ds is gonna make me finally cry about the Kurashikis #it's part of why I don't want to rush to any endings #about the last one I swear though that Door 6 at times it feels like he's just putting words together cause he's starting to run on fumes #like there's stuff that's scripted and then there's the offhand comments and jokes that legit kind of give me that impression #these were really fun!! thank u I like talking about him too akjsks #a tag for asks #ask game

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: implied fem masturbation, slightly dub-con at the end (kissing) but reader is very enthusiastic. WC: 3,339

It was an ordinary morning on an ordinary day. It was early and the eighth floor was just beginning to fill up. You had already been in the office for well over two hours, working on a motion and you were already running against the clock. As people milled about, settling in, you grabbed your noise canceling headphones and slipped them on over your ears. 

You frowned when you realized your coffee cup was empty. You were in need for more coffee but did not have the time for it. As you let out an irritated sigh, you noticed the head of the junior ADA department, Sonny Carisi, stride in. As he passed by your desk, a brown paper bag plopped onto the desk. You slipped off your headphones and swiveled around.

“And what is this, Dominick?” You teased, as you reached into the bag.

“Bear-claw. Coffee - light and sweet.” Sonny called out as he settled into his office.

“God bless ya’ Sonny. You answered my prayers.” You called out, before blowing on the cup. It was so hot, steam rose from the small opening and the heat pricked your fingers. “How did you know?”

“A little birdie named Marjorie.” He replied. He stuck his head out the door. “She told me you were coming in early and if I recall anything from our Fordham days, it’s that you always forget to take care of yourself when you’re under the wire.”

You gave him a pointed look, which then softened into a smile. “Thank you, Sonny. Much appreciated. And when you win that Mickey Davis case, I am going to take you out for a celebratory drink.”

“Don’t start, we don’t even know what will happen. He may plead out.” Sonny replied. “I gotta go - meeting with the boss actually on this. Get back to work.”

“Yes sir!” You mocked saluted, before swiveling back to your computer. Time was ticking after all. 

**

The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a blur. Again, nothing extraordinary happened. And as you electronically filed your motion, you spun around in your seat, with your arms in the air, in silent victory. 

As you faced your desk, you saw Sonny walking back down to his office with a very handsome, distinguished looking man behind him. It was clear the two of them were having some kind of heated discussion. And you couldn’t care less. Because the man he was with, was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He wore dark jeans and blue and pink checkered shirt with a dark grey peacoat. His hair was perfectly coiffed, nary a hair out of place. And he had a meticulously groomed beard. His hair and his beard were dark, with salt and pepper flicked through. You had a sudden urge to tug on his beard and you wondered what it would feel like against your skin, as you slid your tongue into his. 

The man sauntered past your desk and you looked up, feeling a flutter shoot through you as your eyes met. You caught a whiff of the cologne he wore - faint whiffs of vetiver and bergamot - and you closed your eyes, enjoying the olfactory overload. You so badly wanted to turn around, but you could not. So you settled for leaning to the side in an attempt to eavesdrop.

“You know who that is, right?” You jumped in your seat slightly and looked up at Marjorie, your co-worker, and fellow ADA.

“No. But he is nice to the eyes.” You smirked. 

“That’s Rafael Barba.” Marjorie hissed. 

You sat up straight. “That’s him? The Rafael Barba?” You scanned the office and sure enough, people were whispering and talking to each other as they looked behind you. 

You couldn’t hear everything, but you could glean whatever they were talking about was not regular old shop talk. 

You heard something about a ‘nice view’ and ‘had to move the Xerox machine and four filing cabinets just to get the desk in,’ and you snorted. 

“Yeah, the one who k-worded a baby,” Marjorie continued, as she sat on the corner of your desk. She ripped off a remnant of your long-forgotten bear claw and popped it in her mouth. 

“He did not k-word a baby.” It was now your turn to hiss. “That baby was already dead. He… expedited its passing.”

“Well, regardless. No one has seen him since then. Last I heard he was working with The Innocence Project,” Marjorie replied, plucking another piece of the bear-claw.

The door swung open, Rafael turning to face Sonny. “I'm going for straight-up not guilty.” Rafael stormed past you, once more, a breeze blowing by as he did so - and with it, his cologne wafted once more and you felt the back of your neck prick. Arousal shot through you, starting between your thighs, but rising to make your breath hitch. 

Marjorie hopped off your desk and dashed into Sonny’s office. You stood to do so, as Rafael as he stalked by. Your eyes met once more.

“Good morning,” Rafael acknowledged curtly. You felt your cheeks burn and you gave him a small smile, before following Marjorie.

**

Lunch had rolled around. You rapped on Sonny’s door. “Hey - want to grab lunch with Marj and I?”

“Nah, can’t. Barba’s taking the Mickey Davis case on and I need to prep,” Sonny replied. He sighed before dropping his head into his hands, groaning.

You shut the door quickly behind you and moved to lower the blinds in his office. “Hey - talk to me. Barba was your mentor, right?”

Sonny looked up at you and nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was the best ADA here - I mean, he took on cases others dodged. He taught me so much. And now… it’s like jedi master and padawan here.”

You grimaced. “Sonny, don’t sell yourself short. You are an excellent lawyer and you’ve got the chops. If anything, he should be the one who’s worried.” 

Sonny guffawed in response. “Don’t quit ya’ day job, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your brow. “Come on, pizza. On me. Let’s go.”

Sonny rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay. But not Marco’s. That place is not real Italian.”

“Whatever, pizza snob.” You laughed as you both walked out. 

**

Time flew by. Sonny was at voire dire and you chewed on your thumbnail waiting for him to return. You decided to throw yourself into work in an attempt to keep your mind otherwise occupied. 

When Sonny did eventually return, he looked defeated and worn. He shuffled back into his office, his shoulders hunched over. You waited a good minute before knocking on his office. 

“How'd it go at voir dire?” You asked softly, as you knocked on his door. Sonny was chugging pepto-bismol and he grimaced as he turned to you. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“Yeah, the office mill said he was a dog with a bone.” You shrugged, pulling a chair out and sitting.

Sonny laughed. “Yeah. Now get this - I'm looking at his witness list, and he tracked down AJ’s other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Sonny gave you a look. “Dollars to donuts, I think it’s my old squad - Rollins, Liv, and Fin helping him out.”

“You don’t know that.” You interjected.

“It's fine. Barba was here before me. I know where their loyalties are,” Sonny replied. 

“When's opening statements?” 

“A day from tomorrow.” Sonny replied. “Which means I will be here all night prepping.”

“Do you want any help?” You asked. 

“It’s fine - it’s late. You should go home. If there’s something, I’ll let you know.” 

You nodded and bid him a good night, before heading home.

** 

At home, you climbed into bed and tried to watch a repeat of your favorite procedural show but could not focus. You spent the entire commute home, replaying the events of earlier in the week when Rafael came by. He smelled so wonderful and when his eyes locked on yours, your heart skipped in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. Picturing his eyes… his beard… you became warm and a ripple of arousal coursed through you, causing the ache between your legs to intensify. You had a drawer full of toys that you knew you would help, but sometimes, your own fingers were best – you knew you better than any other toy could. You slipped your fingers down your sleep shorts and under the waistband of your underwear. It didn’t take much – as you suspected it would not – and when you came, it was Rafael’s name that escaped from your lips. The ache lessened – and, for now, it was enough.

**

Time flew and before you knew it, the case was winding up - or so you heard through the grapevine. That office leaked like a sieve. Your phone buzzed loudly one morning. You groaned and looked at the clock - you still had twenty minutes of sleep left. Yawning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes awake.

[Marjorie: Come meet us at court - closing arguments on the Davis case and we are all going down to root for Sonny]

You quickly wrote back: who’s we?

[Marjorie: A few of us from 8th. Come on!]

You bit your bottom lip and then hit two little letters: ok. You quickly showered, threw on your pants and an oversized sweater. You grabbed a pair of wedges and made your way uptown.

**

The case was intense and heated. Emotions were rising. You fidgeted in your seat as Sonny faced off with Rafael. In the end, the jury deliberated in six hours and found Mickey Davis guilty. He was charged with manslaughter two.

Sonny caught up with the group from the eighth floor in the gallery who all congratulated him on his big win. You half-listened and half kept an eye on Rafael, who was busy gathering his paperwork. He looked handsome in his black bespoke suit, now cleanly shaven.  You frowned - the beard suited him. But it didn’t temper his handsomeness; with or without, it was as if he made your eyes burn. It also appeared to have turned him into a real-life Benjamin Button, so to speak. He appeared much younger than he did when he did that day in One Hogan Place.

Rafael turned again, and his eyes scanned the group in the back before his eyes settled on yours once more. You ducked your head, feeling embarrassed at having been caught and when you looked up at him, a smile had graced his face.

He began to head your way, tucking his briefcase under his arm. Your heart began to race and your palms were sweaty. You wracked your brain for a reason to leave but couldn’t come up with anything. And then Rafael was in front of you.

“Hi - you’re Carisi’s colleague?” Rafael asked as you were now afforded a close-up view. His eyes were the most intense seafoam green and you knew if allowed, you would drown in them. 

“Uh - yes. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am a junior ADA.” You tripped over your words, feeling your cheeks burn. What was it about this man that renders me into a bumbling fool? you thought.

“Rafael Barba.” Rafael extended his hand and you took it, shaking it.

“Pleasure.”

“No, that’s all mine.” His eyes crinkled and a small smile graced his face. You felt your cheeks burn once more.

Sonny turned away from the group and faced you and Rafael. “We’re going to Rudy’s for a beer. Want to come? The squad is going to come.”

Rafael opened his mouth and paused, looking over at you. Feeling put on the spot, you nodded, going along. “Sure - a beer would be great.” You then turned to look at Rafael. “Coming with?”

Rafael nodded - wanting nothing more than to spend time with you - this creature who had enchanted him. He had to admit, he had hoped to see you more - but in his head, that meant an impromptu visit to the DA’s office, where he wasn’t necessarily well received any longer. Or, it meant asking Carisi - and he didn’t want to be grilled by the former detective. You were young - younger than him of course, but he couldn’t imagine you were that much younger - and at the same time he did not want to seem like a cradle robbing perv. The group dispersed outside, braving the elements of New York City. It was biting cold - the coldest day of the year - and the wind whipped around something wicked. You rubbed your gloved hands together as you all headed to Rudy’s. You and Rafael hung back, following the group, but at the same time, both knowing the route, having made the trek many times prior. 

“So how long have you been with the DA’s office?” Rafael asked. Small, misty clouds emitted from your breaths as you chit-chatted. 

“Two years. I was originally in Brooklyn, but I requested a lateral move.” You replied. 

“That’s where I started too.” Rafael replied. A taxicab approached and Rafael waved his hand up and across from you, signaling to the car to slow down so that you two could cross. You didn’t miss how his hand cradled your back gently as you both crossed the street to the bar. Yout stomach flip-flopped in response.

**

The bar was empty, save for the group. Large colorful bulbs hung throughout, keeping in theme with the upcoming holiday. At the hightops, each table was outfitted with a miniature wreath with a candle in the middle. After a while, the squad from SVU also joined and everyone toasted Sonny on his victory. The corners of your lips twitched as Rafael said “To irony,” at Sonny’s response that they were just back where they started.

Rafael was engrossed in a conversation with Sonny’s former squad, and you watched him intently. You played with your napkin and wondered more about him and who he was. Sure, you had heard about the Householder case and how the prosecutor was acquitted - and sure, you had read some of his court briefs. But you had never thought in a million years that you would be so close to him. Many other former ADAs came to visit, but Rafael Barba never did. He had essentially dodged the office for years. You didn’t hear much of him, only in passing from Sonny while you were both in Fordham.

Hours went by, many drinks had been had. One by one, the group had dispersed, until it was just you, Sonny, Amanda, and Rafael. You all decided to move to a booth. You were slightly unsteady, having had too many glasses of wine and very little to eat. You knew in the morning you would be paying the price.

“Water for Y/N and fries for the table.” Amanda announced as she slid the food to the middle of the table, and the water towards you. 

You plucked a fry from the table and tried to focus on what Amanda was talking about. Sonny made a quip and everyone laughed. You used the opportunity to sneak another glance towards Rafael. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his well defined forearms. A sole finger traced the rim of his lowball glass, which was half-full. Your eyes were drawn to the Rolex on his wrist and you noticed the time.

“Oh, it’s late - I should get going,” you remarked, as you pulled Rafael’s arm close to your face, looking at the time more closely. “Sorry,” you murmur, releasing his arm. You stand and wobble once more, and Rafael stands, catching you. 

“Good idea; it is late,” Rafael replied. “Let me just close out the tab.” Amanda and Sonny protested as they reached for their wallets and Rafael waved them off. 

“I can go home with you honey.” Amanda offered. 

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N, you know better than that; someone should go with you.” Sonny replied. “Amanda and I can.”

“Sonny you’re all the way uptown - I am all the way downtown. It’ll be fine.” You argued as you put your coat on.

Rafael returned, placing his wallet on the table momentarily. “What’s fine?”

“Me. Going home solo,” you replied. “But Amanda and Sonny think--”

“That you had too much to drink.” Sonny cut you off. “It’s not safe.”

“Sonny.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and you found yourself growing more impatient. “I am a big girl - I will send you a text when I get home.”

“Where’s home?” Rafael asked curiously. 

“Brooklyn.” Sonny and you replied at the same time.

“Sonny’s right - someone should take you home.” Rafael countered. 

“What if Barba takes you home?” Amanda asked, as she slipped her hat on. “Barba lives downtown - you don’t mind, do you counselor?”

“Not at all.” Rafael replied. “If that’s okay with Y/N.”

You sucked your bottom lip in. “Okay; Barba wins.”

“Great. Barba takes Y/N home and I’ll head up with Amanda,” Sonny declared.

**

The cab hadn’t even been going for ten minutes when Rafael found you asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to move you - lest you lean on the glass and knock your head if the cab hit a pothole. He watched as the city blurred past him, a mix of lights and colors. You let out a small moan and snuggled closer to Rafael. Rafael threw his head back, resting against the headrest and let out a sigh.

The trip to Brooklyn was uneventful as there was little traffic and soon the cab pulled up outside the brownstone that was home to you. He nudged you softly, stirring you awake. 

“We’re at your place.” He murmured and you smiled sleepily at him.

“Walk me to my door?” You asked, stifling a small yawn. Rafael nodded and requested the cab to keep the meter running. You grabbed your keys to unlock the door and turned to face him. You thanked him for going out of his way to accompany you home and Rafael gave you a small nod, telling you it was no big deal - better to be safe. He licked his lips and you felt a rush of bravery course through you - you’d later realize that was the alcohol - and did what was, up until then, a figment of your imagination.

You curled your fingers into his hair, since he was sans beard, and pulled him in for a kiss. Rafael was initially taken aback, freezing in place, but then he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, which he took as an invitation to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into your mouth.  His strong arms, closed around your back and pulled you tightly against him. You continued kissing for what seemed like eternity, but was only mere moments, when Rafael pulled away. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurted. “You’re drunk. You can’t consent. I should not have done that.” He took a step back, regret was etched on his face.

Your face burned with embarrassment. “It’s fine. I … should go. Good night, Rafael.” You mumbled before unlocking the door and darting inside, not bothering to look back. 

Rafael groaned, rubbing his hands with his face. It felt so wonderful to kiss you - but it was under all the wrong circumstances. He headed back to the cab and went home, replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, as if it were an endless loop. 

He knew what he had to do. 

Imagine your surprise when the following morning, when you headed into the office to put in some overtime, there was an email from one formerly disgraced ADA in your mailbox - asking you out for dinner.

You took a large drag of your coffee and then hit reply. 

TBC.

***

Tag list: @madpanda75  @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227​@beardedmccoy​ @youreverycolor​ @neely1177​ @witches-unruly-heart​ @mrsrafaelbarba​ @skittle479​ @ottosuricato​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @mommakat32​ @dreila03​  @beccabarba​ @garturbo​ @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo​ @imjustreallynosy​ @sweetsummertime99​ @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid​ @redlipstickandblacktea​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @differentshadesofgray​ @misssirenlove​ @esparza-army​ @bananas-pajamas​ @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie​ @theenchantedgalleryofstories​ @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty​ @ktiz90​ @evee87​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @detective-giggles​ @rampantmuses​ @jazzyjoi​ @caked-crusader​ @rachelxwayne​ @prurientpuddlejumper​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921​ @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents​ @qvid-pro-qvo​ @alwaysachorusgirl​

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba and you #rafael barba x female reader #rafael barba fanfic

[aftgandotherbooks]

Father-Son Bonding

Kevin only knew about his mum from what he heard about Tetsuji telling him (which is almost nothing really) and barely remembers her himself. What’s worse is that he knows nothing about Wymack and his past. A few years after Kevin graduated, he decided to visit his dad for the Christmas holidays. Wymack was a man of habit and still lived in that one room apartment near Palmetto university, which meant that Kevin unfortunately had to sleep on the couch for the week. One night of an especially bad nightmare of Riko, Kevin moved to the kitchen to make coffee since he wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep again. Coincidentally it was also around the time Wymack usually wakes up to go out for his morning smoke. After a short and gruff “‘morning” *nod* “‘morning” *nod* exchange, both men headed out to the front porch. It was the long stretches of quiet that Kevin appreciated the most from being around his father. After spending years around people who always had something to gossip or complain about, the comfortable silences he shared with his father were a blessing. After an hour of bliss, Wymack looked over at Kevin and saw deep dark purple bags under his eyes and a surge of concern welled up in his gut. He cleared his throat and nudged his son’s shoulder, asking “couldn’t sleep?” Kevin, transfixed by the quiet morning air jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. “Yeah, um. Nightmare” he muttered, looking down at his hands that were fidgeting with the string of his pyjama pants. Wymack sighed and looked out onto the grass and birds singing their wake-up songs to the rest of the world. He nodded his head and looked back to his son. “That’s one thing that never seems to leave you alone. I had a bad one before you came. I could barely leave my bed for two days.” Wymack huffed. Kevin looked up to his father in shock. He always knew Wymack had a troublesome upbringing, but he never mentioned it. Of course, he knew something must have happened, otherwise the foxes and their reputation of ‘second-chances’ would have never even existed. However, Kevin would have never known his father was still affected by it to this day. As morbid as it sounded, it was comforting knowing that his father was struggling the same as him. Kevin had never asked about his dad’s past. Mostly because Wymack made an active effort to stay out of Kevin’s personal business after he graduated because the other Foxes had a tendency to go too far whenever Riko or the nest were mentioned. Kevin respected the fact that Wymack refused to be like that. But before that morning, Wymack never spoke of his own burdens. He barely spoke about Kevin’s mum, the pain of her absence too painful most of time for Kevin. That’s why Kevin asked “you don’t have to answer me but… what happened? Does it have something to do with mum?” Wymack was quiet for a few minutes. Kevin started to think that his dad would ignore the question altogether. But then with a quiet sigh, Wymack put out his cigarette and turned to face Kevin. “Look kid, I know you’ve been through too much shit in your life, and I wish there was a way that I could have known and stopped it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I knew you before Riko got his hands on you. The point is, I didn’t want to put more shit on you that you don’t need. But... I guess it’s only fair you know more about me. I am your dad afterall.” Kevin nodded, hearing the solemn tone Kevin was too familiar with. The same tone was used whenever Wymack was faced with another kid with a messed up childhood. Wymack then closed his eyes, breathed slowly and methodically and squeezed his hands into fists for a minute or two. It reminded Kevin of the breathing exercises Betsy taught him when he was plagued with the anxiety attacks that came with his sobriety. With a neutral and emotionless tone, Wymack started speaking. “I was in prison for a year before I met your mother.” Kevin’s face snapped to Wymack’s. He opened his mouth to say something when Wymack held up his finger to shut him up. Wymack continued speaking. “I had just turned 18 and thought it was a good idea to get in a car with my drunk best friend after we left a graduation party one of our other friends held t their house. I only had one drink that night, I didn’t see the point of drinking. My old man was in a shit mood that morning and would have punched and kicked me to hell and back if I came home 10 at night, drunk. I kept going on about how I should drive since I barely had anything to drink, but he was too stubborn and I just wanted to get home early enough. So, my friend ended up driving, and we were blasting music, all that typical stuff teens do when they’re young and too stupid to care. It only took a second of us not paying attention that a kid crossed the road to fetch a ball. What sane kid plays with a ball at ten at night?” Wymack rolled his eyes. “anyway, I saw the kid before my friend did and grabbed the wheel to swerve it to the opposite side the kid was on. It just so happened that the car swerved too far and the road was still slippery from the storm we had a few hours before. And can I just say kid, the moment the car swerved and smashed into the light pole I knew we were screwed.” Kevin’s eyes were starting to water. It wasn’t at all what he was expecting. His father went to prison? “My friend, Alex, he died on impact. He was on the side the pole smashed into. I only got away with a bruised right leg, a broken arm and severe whiplash. The kid was fine. It was actually his mom that called an ambulance for us. When I told the cops what happened, they said that even though I saved the kid, what I did was technically manslaughter. That’s why I was sent to prison. My sentence was way shorter though ‘cause I barely had alcohol in my system, and Alex was way over the limit, so he was at fault for the reckless driving. Plus, the fact that my intentions were to save the kid, not to kill-” Wymack took a shuddering breath. “Not to kill Alex.” Kevin grabbed his dads tight fist and squeezed it. “Dad, you don’t have to keep going”. Kevin said, he could see his father’s defences slowly crumbling. But Wymack, the stubborn and persistent old man he was, shook his head and kept going. “Prison was… prison. Not a fun place, and there were things that I would rather never think or talk about. And when I got out of prison, I had nowhere to go. My old man used my sentence as an excuse to stop speaking to me again. Useless pig he was probably celebrated the day I left. My mom, well she’s been dead since I was 13, breast cancer. I’ve always wondered what she would have done about it all. So, I had nowhere to go, and no one to run to. I was working at a run-down diner because that was the only place that would take in a fresh out of prison convict. It was just a few yards off from where your mom lived. Her and Tetsuji would meet up every Saturday at my diner to grab lunch and work on the specifics of how Exy should be played. I always tried to be the one who would serve her, and then we traded numbers and started talking. We got real close for a few years until she asked me to join her first trial team for Exy. She’s the one who got me a job at Palmetto when I told her I wanted to expand the sport to other universities. She gave me the chance to move forward in my life when no one else would.” Wymack opened his eyes and looked at Kevin again. “She reminds me so much of you kid. Every time I look at you I see her commitment and passion.” Kevin looked down to their hands again, and smiled a watery smile. “Thanks dad. All I ever wanted to do was make her proud of me.” Wymack huffed again and said “I’m sure she is… I know cause I sure am.”

A.N: I have no idea how the criminal system works. Nor do I know how long, or even if Wymack would have been charged. I also haven’t read the books since last year so my knowledge of Wymack’s history is limited to other fanfics, so if I got anything wrong, I’m sorry. This is just my interpretation of how Wymack’s character and his personality were formed :)

#aftg #aftg fic #aftg headcanon #aftg headcannons #aftg headcanons #david wymack #coach wymack #Wymack #kevin day #kevin & wymack #bonding #riko moriyama #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxes #taans headcannons

[pillage-and-lute]

You know what, you're a fucking racist hypocrite. You hate Yennefer because she *may have* had a rape orgy (she didn't) but you love Jaskier? He wanted the countess to fall back in love with him! That's ALSO rape, but since he's white... I seriously don't see why people even listen to you. I'm glad you're fucking depressed. You're a horrible person and you should be depressed. I hope you off yourself.

Alright, so this is not the sort of thing I really needed in my inbox today, but let’s address all this. TW: RAPE, DATE RAPE, ABUSE, RACISM, DEPRESSION, SUICIDE, SELF HARM

Number One: I am white. I am not denying the fact that I have internalized biases by being white especially in a mostly white area, however, I have worked hard (and am still working) to educate myself and address those biases so that I am able to use the white privilege I have to help POC. It is in no way impossible that my biases and upbringing have influenced my feelings on the characters. I don’t actually believe this is the case here because.

Number Two: I DO NOT hate Yennefer. I really love her, and as a former abuse victim myself, I really wish to adopt a large part of her character in my own life. She allows herself to be angry at the mistreatment she has received. A large part of the rhetoric in abuse recovery is forgiving the other person, which I believe is fully bullshit. They deserve my anger and I deserve to be angry at being mistreated and being a part of a system that mistreats me. 

Number Three: I didn’t know until recently that the orgy scene was intended to be consensual. I have also been on the receiving end of date rape drugging and it just really hit too close to home. (PSA: Even if he’s your bf, it doesn’t always mean you should let him near your drink)

Number Four: It actually never ocurred to me that Jaskier was serious in his wishes. It seemed a very sudden way to introduce being murderous as a part of Jaskier’s personality (wanting Valdo Marx to die). We’ve seen that he’s a little pushy and overdramatic, but a murderer? Also, Jaskier is a story teller, and what are the rules all genies and djinns have in stories? No making others fall in love and no more wishes.

I truly just assumed that Jaskier was trying to show Geralt how stupid he looked, wishing for trivial things. I never actually considered that he believed the djinn would work. Obviously, Geralt knew djinns were real and the issue was real (and that they can apparently make people fall in love) but I really didn’t even think Jaskier was trying to wish those things for real. 

Number Five: The depression thing. I’ve addressed and am working through my past issues, so I think you should do me the same courtesy and not tell strangers on the internet to kill themselves. I’ve gone through years of therapy and, although I am definitely depressed, I am not a danger to myself. Other people may not be in such a situation. 

I mean this in no uncertain terms. You could cause someone’s death.

If you truly believe that this would be a good thing, that someone’s choices in who they choose to like or dislike within a fictional universe is something someone should die for, that is really and truly sad. There is also no helping you, at that point, because you lack empathy and the ability to see the bigger picture. So, I’ll talk to the selfish part of you that doesn’t care about anyone but yourself. Technically, you could be sued, if someone killed themselves and it was felt that you instigated it. That would be manslaughter, or historically may even be second degree murder. 

You think it’s unlikely. Perhaps you would never be convicted, but your name would be dragged through the mud, and it should be. It would also be permanent public record. Also, you may think you’re safe because you sent this on anon. I can also report you. And have.

To wrap it up: I understand and am learning about fandom racism, and, like you, wish for this fandom to be a kinder, safer place for fans of color, however, I feel you have gone about it in the wrong way. I did not mean to absolve Jaskier of any guilt because I had actually never considered that he was serious in his wishes, but thank you for bringing it to my attention. Or, I would thank you except you took the knowledge that I’m struggling with my mental help and still decided to tell me to kill myself, so actually. Fuck Off. 

#tw rape #tw abuse #tw date rape #tw suicide #tw depression #tw self harm #ask box answers #hate mail #tw racism

[jemej3m]

objection

because im now a law/crim student, this is all im gonna fuckin write about 

anyway here’s andrew as neil’s defence attorney (totally inspired by @aymmidumps‘ amazing andrew here)

gruesome crime descriptions but neil’s not a butcher in this one

*

“Wesninki’s applying for an appeal,” was all Andrew heard from the minute he’d stepped into the office. It was all anyone could - and would - talk about. 

Reasonably so, Andrew presumed. Nathaniel Wesninski had been locked up since his nineteenth birthday, when he slit his father’s throat. Andrew reckons he should’ve never been charged with murder, especially when considering his father was the Butcher of Baltimore, but Andrew had been just an undergraduate student at the time. There was nothing he could’ve done. 

Now, though. 

Now Andrew was just over thirty and steadily climbing the ranks. He hadn’t intended on becoming a defense attorney, but it just so happened that he was damn good at keep kids out of jail. The juvenile detention system was just a cog in the wheel of dysfunction, after all: he knew that first hand. 

Survivors of violent assault who had killed their attackers were also common clients of Andrew’s. Those with mental illnesses and drug addictions found their way into his stack of case files, too. He’d always thought he’d be on the right side of the law, throwing shitty people in jail and fixing the system one day at a time. 

This was alright too, he supposed. 

“Hey, Minyard,” Boyd leaned against the door-frame of Andrew’s office. He had his own private space, unlike the others, who often shared offices with two or three of their colleagues. Andrew was just lucky. Or favoured. 

“Let me guess,” Andrew said, without looking up from his file on a thirteen-year-old being charged with battery and theft. “Dan’s pissy because I didn’t turn up to dinner on Friday, there’s free coffee in the break room, Wesninski’s applying for appeal and Wymack wants me?” 

“Uh,” Matt squinted. “Yes? How the hell did you guess?” 

Andrew gave Matt a bored look. “You talk too loud. The walls are thin, you know.” 

The man huffed, conflicted between being impressed and disgruntled at Andrew’s usual bitchiness. He simply threw his hands up and vanished from Andrew’s doorway, most likely to groan to his wife about how incorrigible Andrew seemed to be. 

He threw his file onto his desk, locked his office door behind him and swung past the break room to dump three packets of sugar into a free latte. By the time he arrived at Wymack’s door, the man was already stood up, most definitely unimpressed by Andrew’s tardiness. And his lack of tie. 

He did wear a tie to court. Most of the time. 

“Nice of you to finally show up,” the old man grunted, tugging on the cuffs of his casual blazer. Andrew fucking hated blazers. They were always too tight around his shoulders. “I suppose you already know what this is all about?” 

“Seeing as Allison, Robin and Renee have all tried to talk my ear off about it, yes. I’m aware Wesninski is trying for appeal.” 

Wymack wasn’t impressed. “What you don’t know is that he’s come to us to represent him.” 

Andrew paused. Now that was interesting. Nathaniel Wesninski was halfway between New York and Baltimore. Why the fuck would he recruit from seedy South Carolina? There was no viable reason, unless - 

“Kevin,” he deduced. “How do they know each other?”

“Moriyamas and Wesninskis ran in the same circles, before it all got shut down.” Wymack arched a brow. “Wesninski figures that Kevin is the only person he can trust.” 

“Kevin won’t do it,” Andrew shook his head. “He doesn’t touch anything Moriyama related with a ten-foot pole.”

“Wesninski knows that. Which is why he’s asked for you: Kevin passed him on.” 

Andrew closed his eyes, very, very briefly, as he cocked his head at his boss. “You want me to get the most notorious gangster’s son out of jail.” 

“At least have him commuted to manslaughter,” Wymack suggested. 

At least, Andrew thought. He remembered looking over the Wesninski case in his third year. Nathaniel Wesninski had laughed, incredulous, as the FBI lead him away in handcuffs, nearly losing his fingers in an effort to cling onto the knife that he’d used to end Nathan Wesninski’s life. 

That wasn’t manslaughter. That was homicide of the first degree, plastered over the front page of every newspaper the next day. 

"You’ll owe me,” Andrew warned. 

“I’ll cover your bar tab at the Foxhole for the rest of the year,” Wymack conceded. 

Andrew huffed. “It’s February.” 

Wymack arched an eyebrow. 

Andrew had a feeling he’d regret this. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels, looking to the ceiling. “Fine.”

“It was an order, not a request,” Wymack grunted. “Get out of my office and get a visitation permit.” 

Andrew, already fed up with a case he’d only just been assigned, turned on his heel and dutifully marched off. 

*

The drive was nine and a half hours. Andrew could’ve made it a single-day round trip on a plane, but he refused to fly somewhere he could drive instead. He booked a half-hour slot with Wesninski on Saturday afternoon: if he found the man interesting enough, he’d bribe a guard to let him back in Sunday morning. Then he’d drive home, midday Sunday. 

At least Wymack was letting him stay in a nice hotel in Philadelphia. It almost made the journey worth it, but he wouldn’t jump the gun. It would only be a worthwhile trip if he figured that Wesninski wasn’t hopeless. The man was just 29. It was nearly 10 years since he’d been locked up. Andrew’s chances were - practically slim to none. 

Half-way through the drive Nicky called. 

“Heard you’re going to see Wesninski,” he said, the phone somewhat masking Nicky’s obvious curiosity.

Andrew sighed. “Aaron needs to shut his mouth.” 

“Aaron comes to family dinners,” Nicky objected. “He has every right to tell me whatever he wants. Speaking of - if I promise you a whole loaf of garlic bread, will you come to the next one?” 

Andrew huffed. “I’m busy.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you hate socialising, you’ll tolerate dealing with Aaron at work but nowhere else, blah blah. What about me? Your dear, old cousin?” 

“Fine,” Andrew grunted. “Now, leave me alone.” 

“Yes!” Nicky crowed, but whatever response he had after that was cut off. Andrew dropped his phone back in the passenger seat, turning the radio back up and relaxing into his chair. 

It was a further five hours after that disturbance till his arrival at SCI Phoenix, Philadelphia. Andrew would always despise how depressing prison complexes looked. Chain link fences and brick boxes, splayed out like a progression of architectural failures. The parking lot was enormous and empty. Andrew parked far enough away that his nice car wasn’t in direct sight from the prison’s visiting entrance, fixing up his suit and tie and slinging the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder. 

The guard by the door snapped his fingers for identification. Andrew flicked his license towards him, gaze deadened by boredom. The guard almost winced when Andrew sighed, looking to the clock. Once he was finally granted access, he took the lanyard and shoved his way through the doors. 

Visitation was close to shutting up when Andrew arrived, miserable loved ones reaching for final hugs and brief kisses. Andrew was lead by the duty guard to a private room, waiting by the barred door. 

Wesninski was already waiting for him inside. His hands were cuffed to the table, fiddling with a blunt key. His red curls were overgrown and messy, the grey jumpsuit hanging off his small frame. 

When the door clanged shut, Wesninski looked up. His eyes were the most spectacular blue Andrew had ever seen, his face marred by horrific scars and the stitches used to hold him together. He looked ridiculously unimpressed. Andrew, meanwhile, smothered any flickers of emotion as intrigue sparked in his chest. 

Damn, he thought.

“Unlock him,” Andrew said, to the guard. 

The guard arched an eyebrow. “You sure?” 

“Obviously,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t have knives on his person - they’d set off the metal detector - but he was never vulnerable. He made a promise that he’d never be taken advantage of again. 

Wesninski flexed his wrists when the guard unlocked them, giving Andrew a thinly veiled look of appraisal. The guard immediately skittered off to stand outside the door, holding the interrogation room’s keys in tightly clenched fists. 

“So,” Wesninski said, holding out a hand. “You’re the famous Andrew Minyard.” 

"And you are the infamous Nathaniel Wesninski,” Andrew returned, ignoring the warmth of his skin as they shook hands. He sat down: the shitty metal chair creaked. “We both seem to have names and reputations that precede us.” 

Nathaniel’s eye twitched slightly. “I prefer Neil.”

Andrew leant back in his chair, leg crossed at the ankle. “You seriously think they’re going to let you out?” 

“Well,” Neil admitted. “Probably not. But I figured I’d give it a shot. It should be safer out there now.”

“You’ve been hiding in here? Who from, your father’s ghost?” 

Neil was not impressed. “His bosses, actually. But since Kengo’s second son was shot between the eyes and his first son locked up for it, I should be fine.”

“Riko and Ichirou,” Andrew deduced. “Kevin’s mentioned them once or twice.”

Neil just glared. “I can’t believe that coward won’t help me.” 

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “He owes you, does he? What for? Helping him escape the Moriyamas? Wait - that was me. What about coping with his trauma and reestablishing his career? Nevermind - that was me, too. Goodness, you haven’t been around much, have you? Right, right,” Andrew leaned over the table, resting his chin on his laced fingers. “You’ve been in jail for ten years.”

“You are not funny,” Neil snapped, gripping onto his blunt key.

“I don’t know if it’s worth my time, Mr Wesninski,” Neil flinched again. “Convince me.” 

“Other than it’s what is just?” Andrew arched an eyebrow. Neil huffed. “Fine. I’ll pay you. Double your normal fee.” 

“Prison pays well, does it?” 

“Blood money,” Neil had the audacity to wink. Dammit, Andrew thought again. “I already know you’re quite happy to spend dirty cash, Minyard. A G6, right? Bit of an upgrade from your mother’s car.” 

He should not know that. “You’re not exactly winning me over, here.” 

Neil leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the stupid little key. He must have spent the last decade tracing it down to its current blunt status. Andrew wondered what it used to unlock. 

Okay - he was intrigued by Neil. And yes, his narrative fit Andrew’s bill. And some spare cash wouldn’t hurt: he could sent Nicky and Erik over to Christmas for the summer. 

“What’s something you’ve never given anyone?” Andrew inquired. 

Neil looked up from under his ruby-tinted lashes. “What?” 

“I want something that no one else has.” Andrew leaned further forward, leaning in close. “What do you have to offer me, Wesninski?”

For a moment, Neil simply stared. His fingers stilled. He definitely had a few tattoos and scars, from what Andrew could glean at the little slice of a sharp collarbone, exposed by the jumpsuit. 

It was silent - almost electric. Andrew watched as something behind Neil’s eyes crumbled, the exhaustion settling in, the loneliness of a man who had known nothing but pain and suffering and isolation. 

“Everyone knows Nathaniel Wesninski,” Neil said. “No one knows Neil.” 

Andrew felt the remnants of a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. 

“I’ll tell you the truth,” Neil offered, glaring at the table like it offended him. “I’ve never told the truth before.” 

Andrew stood up, offering his hand. Neil followed suit, grip hesitant where he clasped Andrew’s hand.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Andrew said. 

“You’ll try,” Neil corrected him. 

“Here’s something you should know about me, Neil,” Andrew tugged on his suit jacket, fixing his cuffs. “I never fail a promise.” 

Andrew felt Neil’s gaze, watching him as he left. As Andrew filtered past the guard, he snuck a two hundred into the guard’s pocket. 

“Nine o’clock, tomorrow morning,” he said. “Bring him here.” 

The guard, moon-eyed, just nodded. 

Andrew glanced over his shoulder for one last assessment of his newest client. Neil was leant against the table they had spoken at, arms crossed as he glared in Andrew’s direction. His hair flopped forward, masking one eye. Like this, with his tattooed forearms and shoulders and hell-fire hair, he looked dangerous. 

In his right hand, he played with his key. 

Andrew spun on his heel and left. He knew he’d made the right decision. 

Neil Wesninski would get out of jail, if it was the last thing Andrew did. 

*

#andreil #andrew minyard #lawyer!andrew #felon!neil #neil josten #all for the game #defence attorneys don't always suck! #aftg #tfc #the foxes #law firm!foxes #david wymack #kevin day #tw: a lil bit of mentioned murder #the tension between them is just #mwah #i love my boys #jem writes

[valwrite]

leap frog; daveed diggs

masterlist.

summary: rafael casal can’t keep a secret. (read the sequels: hopscotch, hide & seek.)

warnings: possible second hand embarrassment, fluff, mentions of murder, cursing

fic type: drabble

word count: 2366

author’s note:  ahaha, i hate myself for writing this but i also love it, gn. feedback is appreciated! oh, and if i don’t reply to a comment or something, it’s just cause i’m dumb as shit and haven’t figured out how tf to do that yet 🥰

It was official. Y/N L/N was going to murder Rafael Casal.

And, boy, would she make sure it looked like an accident.

The man was a nuisance, a mad man, a big mouthed buffoon. And the reason she now had to avoid one Daveed Diggs at all costs from here on out. Considering Rafael lived just one door down from her made this a challenge, as Daveed had a habit of treating the other man's apartment as a second home.

The trouble began two weeks prior, when, after a miserable night out, Y/N had stumbled into the building elevator, feet aching to get out of her heels and breasts desperate to be freed from their confinement. Before she'd had the chance to press her floor button, a hand slid between the closing doors and in stepped Rafael Casal. The two exchanged glances and greetings before riding up to their shared floor in a comfortable and welcomed silence. Had this exchange taken place three months before, perhaps Y/N would have felt a lot more awkward and intimidated by her attractive neighbor. However, things had changed between them ever since they'd become friends. She'd tag along on nights out with his friends (who'd seamlessly welcomed her in as one of their own) and he'd come round for dinner every time he so much as smelt her cooking from next door. The elevator had reopened and the hallway they shared came into view. That was when Rafa made the proposal she'd end up regretting: “Do you wanna come in for a few drinks?”

She'd accepted because, well, it was free alcohol. The fact that his company was anything but bad was just an added bonus. A few drinks turned into many, even some shots finding their way into the mix of things, as she and Rafa talked the night away: she shared details of the horrible blind date she'd been set up on that evening while he ranted about how insufferably boring Daveed had been, claiming the man hadn't brightened up the whole night after hearing Y/N would not be in attendance at their get-together. She was sure her cheeks had turned as red as they'd felt when Rafa made that revelation.

The real mistake came towards the end of their drinking session and, really, neither of them knew how to explain how or why they wound up locking lips. What they did know was the following: it was a meaningless kiss, both of them laughed right after and it had been the most uncomfortable kiss either of the two had shared in their adult lives. Kissing him, Y/N would later realize, wasn't the problem though. It was what the kiss had unearthed.

“Oh my god, you have the hots for Diggs?!”

In three months of friendship, Y/N had learned three fundamental things about Rafael Casal:  he preferred pancakes over waffles, friendship with him was a package deal that included Daveed Diggs and, lastly, Rafael Casal was the biggest gossip in town.

Any secret, any hook up, any scandal. You name it and it was almost a guarantee that, not only did Rafa know about it but he was the source of it all. So, having him become aware on the fact she had a massive crush on his best friend? Yeah, there was no chance in hell Y/N could ever speak to Daveed again without self-combusting in embarrassment.

Now, back to present times, where Y/N finds herself tiptoeing around her own apartment, anything capable of making noise switched off and her own breathing being the only sound in the living space. Five minutes had passed since Daveed had last knocked at her door, saying nothing but her name yet still managing to put her on edge.

The logical part of her brain told her to open the door, because the poor guy was probably just confused as to why she had suddenly started ignoring his texts and stopped hanging with him and Rafa while they watched the Warriors play. The rest of her brain told her to stay put, wait it out and, once she was sure Diggs had left the building, grab the participation trophy she'd been given back in elementary school and use it to go beat Rafael's ass.

Operation: Avoid Double D was working, much to her own surprise, and she'd even started to feel a little impressed with herself when- thud! - a noise came from her balcony. The door of it lay wide open, much like the book she'd been reading out there before Daveed had come knocking, but the curtains were drawn shut, gently moving with the breeze from outside. Like a scene from a cheesy horror movie, she approached the balcony with caution, reached out to draw the curtain aside and gasped at the sight of Daveed comfortably sat in her chair, skimming through her book- a very, very worn out copy of Emma by Jane Austen - and sipping on her iced tea.

“I... How... What...” There wasn't a coherent sentence to be found in Y/N's brain. “Why are you on my balcony?”

“Well,” Daveed snapped her book shut and discarded it on to the small table next to him, all the while smiling innocently up at her. “I knocked on the door and you didn't answer.”

“So you figured breaking and entering was the only solution?!”

“Hey, hey, there was no breaking involved. Just, y'know, entering.” He stood up, reminding her of how much taller he was. “You're the one that left your balcony door open to the world, I just took advantage of that and jumped over from Rafa's.”

Y/N couldn't help but turn her back on him to gaze over at Rafael's own balcony. A fresh batch of laundry had been sat out to dry on it and Y/N noticed how the only plant Rafa owned had now died, nothing left but a dried up mess in it's place. She then thought of the space between the two balconies and, more importantly, the space beneath them both. Granted, she wasn't living in some top floor luxury apartment but she imagined a seven story drop was nothing short of unpleasant. Yet there was Daveed, all smiles and charms, having just jumped over the space as if it were nothing but some innocent, childish game of leap frog. She both wanted to scold him for being so reckless and praise him for being so brave.

Until she remembered the fact she was supposed to be avoiding him and this, clearly, was ruining any of her attempts.

“What do you need so badly from me that it compelled you to do something as stupid as that?” It seemed to be that scolding was the option she'd chosen.

“Answers.” Oh god no. That's it, time to eBay a body bag and a fake passport.

“Answers to what exactly?” When she was a child, Y/N had always tried to play coy to avoid confrontation. It appeared to be she hadn't changed much with age.

“Do you have any of those blueberry muffins left?” Okay, that was not where she thought this conversation was going. “Rafa ran out of the batch you made him and he's too afraid to ask you for more, since you demanded payment last time, so he sent me over here to charm two muffins out of your pantry.”

“You're in luck. I made some last night.” They could have every last piece of food in her kitchen for all she cared, so long as that were the only thing Daveed wanted from her. Though, she was still contemplating manslaughter when it came to Rafa considering he'd sent over Daveed, knowing fine well why she was steering clear of the man. He was shameless in his meddling.

“So,” Daveed's voice and footsteps followed behind her into the apartment as she desperately aimed for the kitchen area. “how come you didn't answer the door earlier?”

“I was, uh,” I was trying to avoid you because I want nothing more than to bake muffins with you and have you nakedly recite poetry to me and that's an issue because we're friends and you don't even think about me that way. “Shower. I was showering.”

“You hair's not wet.”

“Never heard of a hair dryer? Jeez old man, catch up.” At this point, her hands were clammy from her own nervous sweat but she'd pulled out the tray of muffins and shoved the lot of them over to him. All she had to do was get him out of her apartment, then things would be fine. “Here you go, thanks for stopping by. See you later.”

“Wow, wow, wow! Calm down, girl!” Did he have to smile at her like that? “Why're you trying to get rid of me? I asked for two muffins, Y/N, not the whole batch.”

“Just take them, I forgot that I don't really like blueberries anyways.” If there was an Olympic sport for colossal idiots, she'd have won gold, silver and bronze.

“You didn't answer my question,” Daveed took one step forward and she took one step back, internally screaming as she felt her back bump against the counter. “why're you trying to get rid of me?”

“I'm not!”

“Okay then, why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because I lost my phone.”

“The same phone that I saw on your coffee table?”

“You found it! My hero!” The body bag was no longer going to be used on Rafa, she was pretty sure she was one more comment away from dying of embarrassment.

“Y/N.” When had Daveed gotten so close to her? And why did he have to say her name like that? Her hand gripped on to the surface behind her and she gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact with him.

“Daveed.” She replied lamely, just begging that he'd turn around, grab the tray of muffins and leave.

“What's really up?” His words were softer and more serious, much like the look in his eyes. “You won't answer your phone, you haven't watched the recent games with us, you won't answer the door to me. I just... Look, if I done something or said something that made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I really miss you though, so does Rafa. So if there's anything I can do to fix whatever I did, just tell me. I'll do it. Anything.”

And now, ladies and gentleman, please buckle your seat-belts and get ready for take off, destination: Guilt Trip.

“No. Fuck, Daveed, no. You didn't do anything. Trust me, it's all my fault. I'm really sorry.” The words tumbled out of her quickly whilst her eyes fixated themselves with staring down at her nervous hands. “I know that Rafa told you and, just, I'm really sorry. I promise, I'm trying to get rid of them, it's why I've sort of been avoiding you. I don't want to ruin our friendship.”

“Rafa told me... what? Who are you trying to get rid of?”

“Wait,” Oh sweet hypothetical baby Jesus, had Rafael Casal not spilled the beans? Did he really not know? “he didn't tell you?”

“I'm confused.” Daveed said, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he continued to gaze down at her. “Was he supposed to tell me something? Wait, did he make a move on you or something? Cause I'll put him in his place if I have to.”

“Technically we made a move on each other.” The words flew out of her before she could stop it and she noticed immediately how his face contorted into a frown. “Not in that way! It was just a drunk kiss that we both regretted.”

“And he was supposed to tell me about it?”

“Huh? No! Ugh, look Daveed,” She'd already made a fool of herself enough, she may as well just round it all off with the mother of all embarrassments. Go big or go home, right? And, well, she was technically already home and with nowhere else to go. “I like you. Like, the way a bee likes honey or the way a dog likes a bone. A lot. But I get it, you don't like me and that's chill but would you please just give me the time and space to sort myself out and get over it so we can go back to being friends?”

“But I don't wanna be friends with you, Y/N.” Well done, idiot. So much for honesty being the best policy. “I mean, I don't know how I feel about being compared to honey or a bone but I do know how I feel about you. I think you're smart and beautiful, and stubborn and kind of a dork. And I really like it, you. I really like you.”

“Oh.” Oh? Oh?! Fucking oh!? That's all you can say to that. She couldn't stand living in her own head-space.

“I'm gonna ignore the fact that you and Rafa made out or whatever and just get straight to the point of asking you on a date. Tomorrow night, seven pm. Wear something easy to move around in.” Gentle fingers tilted Y/N's head up by her chin, forcing her to stare into his eyes. They were warm and welcoming, like chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven and melting with love. “Who knows, maybe by the end of the night you'll finally get a good kiss from a Bay Boy.”

“Why would Rafa kiss me at the end of our date?” At least she could still joke among the shock. “And you more or less just demanded I go on a date with you. No questions were made.”

“If demanding is what it takes,” He leaned down, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. “then so be it.”

Where she'd expected a kiss, she found nothing but empty space and the sight of Daveed picking two muffins out of the tray. Wide eyed and honestly a little confused about what events had just transpired in her kitchen, she watched as he finally headed for her door, suddenly not enjoying the thought of him leaving as much as before.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was halfway out of her apartment, grinning back at her. “Rafa did tell me, I just wanted to hear you say it yourself.”

He slammed the door shut on the sound of Y/N cursing out the very man that was Rafael Casal.

#daveed x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs drabble #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs oneshot #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs scenario #daveed diggs fluff #daveed diggs hamilton #daveed diggs clipping. #valwrite #daveed diggs x y/n

[amphtaminedreams]

COVID-19, Negligent Manslaughter, and a Timeline of Tory Indifference

“I feel sorry for Boris Johnson. He is doing the best he can in the situation and I don’t think anybody else could have done a better job.”

[exhibit A: a gem somebody that I’m Facebook friends with reposted earlier]

It’s a sentiment that I cannot quite wrap my head around. I sit here hopeless and furious and trying to hold back tears because it’s been almost a year since England first went into lockdown and yet here we are, almost 100,000 dead, in an even worse position than we were before whilst other countries begin to slowly return to normality. It is clear to me who is to blame for this, however there are a large proportion of people who don’t want to “politicise” the actions of the PRIME MINISTER with regards to his approach towards handling a virus sweeping the country he GOVERNS. 

Typically, these kind of posts making the rounds on social media will be accompanied by some kind of photo of Boris Johnson looking somber as if to suggest that the way things have played out were beyond his control and that he is some kind of broken man beleaguered by the suffering he has, despite good intentions, inadvertently caused.

This one in particular of Johnson with his head in his hands is a staple. In reality, this is a photo taken back in 2018 whilst he was receiving flack from party members for comparing Theresa May to a suicide bomber (for her handling of Brexit, ironically) as well as from the papers due to his rumoured (now also proven, in a completely non-surprising turn of events, to be true) affair with his former aide, Carrie Symonds. 

So let’s shut this narrative-where we should feel for Boris because he’s doing his best, and apparently a better job than anybody else could’ve done in his situation- down right here. In a supposedly developed country with one of the world’s largest economies, if we’re talking by proportion, our COVID-19 death toll is up there with the worst of them. It seems that every other state figurehead (bar a small handful), and I mean almost every single one of them, is doing a better job. People love to throw figures out there about how densely populated we are to combat damning statistics as if we haven’t got just as many factors playing to our advantage, as if it’s unfair to compare our response to Germany’s or Japan’s or Singapore’s (both of which are far more densely populated) or New Zealand’s or Vietnam’s, but we are an ISLAND with world-leading technology and infrastructure and healthcare equipment and professionals and a relatively high standard of living. In what world is almost 70,000 dead in a country with abundant time and means to prepare a response reflective of said country’s leaders doing a good job?

Apparently we’re supposed to believe that Johnson feels some sense of moral responsibility for this astronomical failure. A man who refuses to acknowledge the multiple children he has fathered outside of his marriages and who has had repeatedly engaged in affairs and one-night stands throughout said marriages. A man who continued to cheat whilst his most recent wife was receiving treatment for cervical cancer, for fuck’s sake. Yep, a real stand-up guy. 

So where does this idea that Johnson must feel remorseful for this catastrophe come from? We haven’t seen a second of remorse or a hint of accountability for the lives lost from him nor any members of his cabinet. That much is really no surprise; I have this hypothesis, and it’s not a stretch, that these people do not have an ounce of empathy in their bodies. These ridiculously privileged, privately-educated individuals who have had everything handed to them their entire lives simply cannot put themselves in the shoes of the average working person and that is the problem. Unable to recognise that what distinguishes them from most others is little more than the luck of being born into wealth and the abundance of recourses and connections that has entailed throughout their lives, they see us as beneath them-as less intelligent, less driven, and thus less deserving of the status and respect they enjoy. They see us as a bunch of whining, unmotivated idiots who do not recognise the chokehold they have over our media nor the fact that everything they do is a desperate grab to keep money and power within the hands of a select group of people, an exclusive members club from which most of us are barred (just take a simple Google search and watch Jacob Rees-Mogg’s opinion of the Grenfell victims or the buried Johnson speech where he talks about how inequality is essential). They know that we will squabble amongst ourselves about who is to blame rather than wising up to the truth which is that every decision they make is fuelled by cronyism and the inability to make and follow through with difficult choices, the pandemic being no exception. The supposedly self-made elite see the life of the average working class person as having far less value than their own, and their parties actions over the last 10 years have made that very clear. 

It was in December 2019 that the first case of COVID-19 was declared to the World Health Organisation and on March the 11th that they announced they considered it as a pandemic. In Wuhan, people were dying of pneumonia in their clusters. And what was Boris Johnson doing in this time? Well for starters, here in the UK we didn’t even have a pandemic committee-Johnson had scrapped it six months before. If years of benefits cuts and defunding of the NHS in favour of funding nuclear weapon programs, keeping British troops on other people’s lands, and tax breaks for the mega corporations that donate to their party didn’t convince you that the Conservatives have little regard for human life, them getting rid of this committee-whilst a pandemic has been declared year after year as the greatest threat to mankind-should have been the first sign of trouble. As if that wasn’t enough, he also skipped five of the COBRA (meetings are made up of a cross-departmental committee put together to respond to national emergencies and PMs routinely attend those pertaining to crises on the scale of COVID-19) meetings addressing the situation. Whilst other countries were closing their borders and stocking up on PPE, Johnson and his ministers were selling PPE abroad and simply telling people to wash their hands to the length of the tune of happy birthday. Their only policy was one of “herd immunity”, which was in fact not a policy but just an abandonment of their party’s public duty disguised as one, intentionally obfuscated with pseudoscientific jargon.

Even thinking the absolute worst of politicians you would hope that when it came to the point where the UK’s non-response to COVID-19 was becoming an international disgrace, Johnson and his ministers would take proper protective measures if only to save face. But when they eventually seemed to do so, it became clear that the priority was not the safety of the ordinary people affected by the virus. Outsourcing their test and traces system to companies such as Serco, Sitel, Deloitte and G4S rather than public health services, Conservative ministers could not resist attempting to line the pockets of their friends and benefactors in the process. According to the Guardian, instead of reaching out to the experts or using publicly funded services to handle COVID containment measures, the Conservative party has awarded a disgusting £1.5 BILLION WORTH of contracts to businesses with explicit connections to its MPs and donors, the majority of which lack any relative experience of the tasks they’ve been trusted to carry out. Unsurprisingly, the National Audit office found that when awarding contracts relating to the production of COVID-19 protection measures and treatment needs, there was a “high-priority lane” for suppliers referred by senior politicians and officials; companies with a political referral were 10 times more likely to end up winning a government contract than those without. On top of this, it is not hard to draw a link between the late initiation of lockdown measures and preemptive openings of pubs and restaurants against scientific advice to the interests of frequent donors such as Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin. Even if one chooses to ignore the blatantly obvious correlation between the owners of the businesses whose profits were prioritised over safety concerns and the number of those owners who donate to the Conservatives, party officials at the very least were reluctant to follow the lead of many other countries in financing furlough schemes themselves and instead avoided this responsibility by using loose lockdown measures to leave it down to the discretion of small business owners, who couldn’t themselves afford to furlough staff, whether or not to stay open. 

Time and time again, as the government flounder and fuck about, favouring personal desires to keep their powerful, high-paying jobs and to satisfy the corporate allies who make this possible, blame has been shifted from the public to care homes to NHS workers and back again whilst we, the public, make the biggest sacrifices of all under the illusion that we were being guided out of this pandemic rather than lied to and thrown under the bus. Whilst the elite continue to pick and choose what rules apply to them, it’s students and the elderly and the vulnerable paying the fines and scrabbling to afford basic living costs and hoping that they don’t lose someone dear to them.

Don’t get me wrong, a large proportion of the public have contributed to the spread too with their selfishness and entitlement and the arrogance it takes to develop a sudden refusal to acknowledge basic science from experts who have studied in the field their whole lives so that they can justify their need to go to the pub (speaking of, it’s absolutely HILARIOUS how many “mental health advocates” are suddenly coming out of the woodworks on football avi Twitter after they’ve spent years calling people on mental health Twitter attention seekers). And don't get me wrong, there were inevitably going to be casualties of this pandemic. But it didn't have to spread to this many people, and there didn’t have to be so many deaths due to a lack of preparation, and this wouldn’t have been the case if it weren’t for the inherent apathy of the Conservative party towards the lives of people of lesser status than them, the reluctance to put those lives before party interests. I wish I felt like there was an end in sight, I wish there was some positive takeaway from all of this, but even now, we continue to see corners being cut with the vaccine lauded as our saving grace and anti-maskers gathering outside hospitals to chant about how “oppressive” it is to be urged to wear a bit of cloth over their faces for the short periods of time in which they leave their houses and all I can think of is the selfishness that runs like poison through our country. It makes me sick and leaves me to question desperately where we go from here. I don’t like unanswered questions, I don’t like feeling politically directionless, and I don’t like the growing fear I have about the state of the world which seems to intensify every single day. In the UK at least, it’s starting to feel like nothing will ever change-we’re told we live in a democracy and yet mainstream media is owned by the people whose interest is to keep their Conservative friends in power. The stronghold they have over print media in particular allows them to continually get away with smearing and defaming every person who comes along and seems to want to actually help ordinary people, without being challenged, to the point where the only kind of “opposition” we’re left with promises nothing but a big boss approved tactical reshuffling of the status quo (which they call “electability”); it doesn’t feel like democracy when the majority of the country are being fed misleading information and convinced against voting in their best interests. 

This is the result of that. The state we find ourselves in is the inevitable result of being manipulated into helping the elite build their protective wall whilst the rest of us scrabble to get in and step on each others heads along the way, the people inside shouting over that it’s those even more vulnerable than ourselves that are taking our places. Outside the wall, the earth is falling from beneath our feet, and instead of throwing over the ropes to help us out, the people inside are stockpiling them so they can secure their firm place above ground and then later flog the rest. How many more people have to die before we reach some kind of widespread realisation of that? Where do we go from here and what do we do? Well for one, we can stop spreading those god-fucking-awful textposts on Facebook and get our heads out of our arses. Wear our masks over and wear them over our fucking noses. Have some fucking consideration for others. Don’t wait til an issue affects you personally to give a fuck about it. AND START HOLDING THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER AND HIS MINISTERS AND HIS ENTIRE PARTY AS WELL AS THE OPPOSITION MPS THAT HAVE SAT BY THE SIDELINES AND ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON WITHOUT PROTEST ACCOUNTABLE. That would be a good start. 

I’m so tired. Things didn’t need to be this way, and yet because of the selfishness of the few, thousands upon thousands are dead. It’s not about “throwing around blame”, it’s not about “throwing around” anything, it’s about expecting a leader to do his best to protect lives. If that is “throwing blame”, let’s get things clear, I have no issue with hurtling it torpedo style at those who handed out a death sentence to so many in this country rather than do anything that might compromise their own privilege. Honestly, pass me the shovel after and I’ll happily bury the wreckage in the ground. Who wants to join?:-)

#rant #politics #anti capitalism #anticapitalist #covid-19 #covid #england #labour #socialism #fuck the tories #fuck the torys #fuck boris #rant post

[grapefruitsketches]

I’ve Been Waiting On You

Rated G, 2,560 Words. Songxiao, Modern AU - Coffee Shop/Cafe, Fluff, First Meetings/Meet-Cute, POV Song Lan (Wen Qing, A-Qing, and - briefly - Wen Ning are here too!)

My third (and likely final!) fill for the Songxiao Reverse Itty Bitty Bang 2020

Inspired by @transgirlsqx’s art on twitter at transgirlsqx/status/1305923577707806720?s=21 (link in reblog to make sure this shows up in the tags; please do yourself the favour of taking a look - the expressions are priceless!)

Event hosted by @touchmycoat

Also for fytheuntamed’s Untamed Fall Fest Day 7: Reunion

Also Available on AO3 (See link in reblog)

He was back again.

He was back, and he had a high schooler with him this time.

How did having a high schooler with him not make him any less…

“-chen! Song Lan! Hello?” Wen Qing’s voice drew him back to the present.

“Mmn?” He said, looking around to his manager, her arms were crossed as she flipped one wrist out to point to the table he was supposed to be serving. Wen Qing ran a tight operation, but her smirk betrayed her: she was not angry. Song Lan would not get off so easy. Instead, she was amused.

He would hear about this again later.

The tips of ears burned, even as he couldn’t help stealing one more glance the man’s way.

He was leaning in close to the laptop, squinting at something. The teen frowned peering similarly at the screen. Then the man said something and the girl’s eyes and mouth widened. She nodded eagerly and began typing rapidly. The man chuckled and leaned back in his seat, smiling approvingly. Song Lan watched him breathe deep and look up from the table. Song Lan gulped and couldn’t help but grin at the kind, smiling eyes behind the thick-paned glasses.

Too late, Song Lan’s mind caught up with reality.

If he could see the man’s eyes then the man could see…

Song Lan’s chest tightened and his breath caught in his throat. He turned his face quickly away and hurried towards the table patiently awaiting the coffees and tea on his tray. He felt his cheeks redden, but he kept his focus on the customers and tried to ignore Wen Qing’s unconcealed chuckling from behind the counter as he said, far too rapid and breathless for the short walk he’d taken, “Sorry-for-the-wait-here-is-the-latte-the-green-tea-and-the-wulang.” He nodded and retreated quickly back to the counter.

He wondered if there was a professional way to sink to the floor and hide until an entirely new batch of customers had rotated into the shop. Not seeing one, he settled for grabbing a bag of coffee beans and slowly running them through the grinder, one of the few tasks he could do when there were no orders to work on that would require turning his back to the café.

“So… should I give you his table, or would that be tantamount to manslaughter?”

“Are you offering to serve him instead?” Song Lan replied skeptically. They both knew that Song Lan was the only server in the small café right then, Wen Ning busy with a stream of people grabbing last minute sandwiches to go before whatever mid-afternoon meeting they were going to, Wen Qing usually keeping herself free to answer a phone call, keep the store well-stocked, address a customer complaint, or to have a discussion anyone who thought that just because Wen Ning was too polite to call out a customer when they deserved it, no one would.

She shrugged, “Maybe. It would really be a pain to have to hire someone else. And what kind of press would that bring us? We just reopened, we can’t afford to have anyone think I’m working my staff to death. Not yet at least.”

But Song Lan still lingered, eyes darting towards the table then back to Wen Qing.

“Come on,” she said, “You had a-Ning serve him last time and Zizhen seemed perfectly capable the time before that. I’m sure he can’t be that scary, no matter what he said to you the one time you served him.”

“You know it’s not—" she raised her eyebrows at his protests, daring him to explain what it was, “Fine,” he said, finally. He took a deep breath, pulled his shoulders back in a vague attempt to seem put together, readied his pen and notepad, and turned towards the table.

Where only the teenager sat, typing fiercely at her keyboard.

He breathed out. This, he could deal with.

He made his way to the table.

“Welcome to Sleepless Café. May I take your order?”

The keys didn’t stop clicking as the teen grumbled, “Took you long enough. I’ll take a mocha, and I guess a white tea for my tutor because he’s boring like that.”

“Your tutor.” Song Lan repeated, replaying the earlier interaction he’d observed which had somehow become even more endearing.

“Yes? My tutor. Sort of also my brother if you really want to know. Is there something wrong with—“ apparently Song Lan’s dumbfounded repetition had finally been what made her look up from her computer screen, “Oh.” And to Song Lan’s absolute horror, a mischievous, gleeful grin that would give even Zizhen a run for his money lit up her face. She leaned a cheek in her hand, “It’s you,” she said, tilting her head to the side, “So, was there something you wanted to say to my brother, or do you just stare at every person who walks in here like that? Because if you do,” she said, matter-of-factly, “That is both creepy and bad for business.”

“I—“ Maybe Wen Qing was right and the girl’s tutor wouldn’t have been scary, but the student herself absolutely was. “I’m sorry I just—“

“He’ll forgive you, you know. Probably doesn’t even think anything of it, to be honest. Maybe didn’t even notice. Wants you to talk to him actually.” Her speech became more blunt as she returned to peering at her screen, which, now that Song Lan looked at it, was zoomed in to something like 150% percent.

What she said sunk in slowly, though, “What, really?” Song Lan felt a little pinprick of hope light up in his chest.

“Mmmhmm. I’d be willing to bet it’s the reason he keeps coming here.” She looked up at him, “It’s very far from where we live.” She smirked as she revealed this.

“What—“ Song Lan was trying to figure out how to ask just how far without seeming like he was trying to figure out where they lived or something, already apparently one strike in on the “creepy” scale, but his voice involuntarily cut off as he approached again.

“Sorry a-Qing, there was a bit of a wait…” he sat back down and his eyes swiveled around slowly, landing on Song Lan. He frowned and looked slowly upwards, pupils moving back and forth a couple of times before, “Ah! Sorry. It sometimes takes me a moment to…” he shook his head quickly, “Hi,” he said, and… was that a faint bit of pink Song Lan saw on his cheeks?

Song Lan found himself completely speechless. Luckily (or unluckily) the girl, a-Qing, apparently, was there and ready to fill the silence. “I already ordered. Mocha for me. White tea for you. Is there anything else you’d like to order, gege?” She ended in a childish, playful singsong, a significant switch from the dry tone she had taken with Song Lan.

“A-Qing… so much caffeine and sugar so late in the day…” the man shook his head, but smiled affectionately, chastising, but not stepping in to overrule her order, “I’m sorry, was she pestering you at all?”

Yes. “No,” Song Lan said quickly.

The man smiled, “That’s good to hear,” he sighed.

“Sorry for lingering so long,” Song Lan said, suddenly feeling very awkward and aware of just how long he’d been standing there, long after the simple order had been neatly noted on the notepad, “I’ll leave you two to—“

“Wait.” The man said, and Song Lan froze. The man took a deep breath, and Song Lan couldn’t help but let his eyes be drawn to his lips, before the man spoke, “I’ll… I’ll kick myself later if I don’t ask but… We’ve spoken before, right?”

Song Lan blinked, “Uh…”

They had. They absolutely had. And Song Lan absolutely knew this. It had been a couple months ago, and Song Lan had assumed the other man had completely forgotten it.

“Sorry… I know you probably get a lot of customers here, don’t worry about it…”

“No… no I do remember!” Song Lan answered, “I just… I assumed you wouldn’t remember.”

Something about that must have struck the other man as hilarious, and he hid his mouth behind a closed fist as he giggled. A-Qing made a show of tossing her head back, groaning, and placing a set of headphones firmly over her ears. But she was smiling.

“Sorry,” the man said, wiping the beginnings of tears out of his eyes, “So. I hope school is still going well?”

It was an abrupt transition, but a welcome one.

Their one and only previous conversation had been short — Song Lan had said that he thought the other man’s earrings had looked cool, purportedly as part of his usual customer service approach, but the light stutter that interrupted his usual cool tone betrayed him. The other man hadn’t seemed to notice or mind, but had thanked him and asked how Song Lan liked working at the café.

For some reason, though he usually tried to get in and out of exchanges with customers as quickly as possible, Song Lan had found himself telling the man that he did like it. He explained that he expected it would only be for now, as he put himself through law school, that he was lucky he had old friends who managed this place, who were willing to work flexibly around his school schedule. The other man had thought that that was amazing, seeming embarrassed to admit that his mothers had almost insisted they pay for his own schooling, to let him focus exclusively on his studies. Song Lan had found out that he studied computer sciences, with a focus on accessible technology.

And then a customer had dropped a cup, and by the time Song Lan was done dealing with that, the man had been gone, only the empty teacup, a generous tip, and a “Thanks J” scrawled on the receipt to confirm that Song Lan hadn’t imagined him.

Song Lan was still reeling from the man’s admission that he remembered the conversation at all. Song Lan had thought was only a strange personal fixation of his own. But he was finding it hard to handle the knowledge that the other man not only remembered, but remembered in this kind of detail. Remembered that he was in school, and as they continued to talk now, remembered things Song Lan had forgotten he’d even said.

“It seems like a pretty nice team here. It’s nice to finally see the manager’s brother here… you mentioned him last time, but he’s never been here when I’ve visited,” the man smiled, “But you mentioned before he usually only works afternoon shifts? I guess that was my fault then…”

At some point in the conversation, Song Lan felt the notepad and pen he was holding slowly leave his hands. He blinked and turned his head, to see Wen Qing give him a small wink and look at the page now in her hand, getting to work on the teas these two customers had ordered a long while ago now.

“So is…a-Qing also studying computer science?”

“Yes!” the other man seemed similarly surprised that Song Lan had remembered this detail, “She ended up getting a co-op job at the same place I’ve been interning at. She’s got the same kind of accessibility needs as me,” he waved vaguely at his own eyes, “So she’s been a great second set of hands on this project.”

The sound of a scraping chair. A bump of metal against the back of his legs. Wen Qing clearly was giving him permission to, no, insisting he sit down.

He sat, shuffling the chair forward, and soon she was back, a mocha, a white tea, and a green tea — Song Lan’s standard order — in hand. She set them down, patted Song Lan on the shoulder and walked away.

“Oh am I keeping you from…?” the man’s eyes widened as he watched Wen Qing walk away.

Song Lan chuckled, “No. That was her telling me I’m on a break for now.”

The other man puffed out an appreciative breath of laughter, “Like I said, this seems like a nice team to work with.”

Song Lan nodded, and gently lifted the cup of tea to his lips.

They sat in silence for a while, the whole situation bizarre. Song Lan was rarely so social, and never so impromptu about it. But it still felt right. Peaceful. Like this is something they hadn’t planned to do, but had always expected, somehow. Song Lan kept his eyes mostly to his tea, but each time he chanced a glance up, he caught the other man’s smiling eye and had to look back at his tea as he felt his face flush.

The sound of a laptop snapping shut was what finally shook him out of the gentle trance.

“Time to go, Xingchen-ge.” She looked to Song Lan (whose only thought at that moment was now His name is Xingchen. His name is Xingchen on loop), “We’ll see you again. And…” she picked up the phone lying face down on the table, the one with the frost-covered case lying closer to her brother, not the green one featuring what was obviously some pop culture reference Song Lan didn’t understand pasted all over the back. She tapped at the screen quickly, unlocking it before turning it to Song Lan, “Name and number, please.”

“A-Qing—!” the man exclaimed, and Song Lan was charmed, and a bit relieved, by the faint pink tinting the other man’s ears. But he still wasn’t sure whether he should take the phone being forcefully shoved into his hand.

He turned to the man — to Xingchen — and asked, “Do you… want me to?”

Xingchen’s eager, if still subdued, still gentle, nods were all he needed to see. He entered his contact information quickly, only having to backspace a few times to account for the typos he kept making.

“Thank you, Song Lan,” Xingchen said, smiling a smile that Song Lan couldn’t peel his eyes away from as he took the phone back.

“Ah, you can call me Zichen, that’s what my family calls me,” Song Lan said before he really thought about it, before he could consider whether it might be too forward to ask Xingchen to call him by a name even the Wens didn’t yet use for him. But Xingchen didn’t know that, and only smiled more widely.

“Then thank you, Zichen,” Xingchen said. And any doubt Song Lan had had washed away — that name just sounded so right coming from this man, “I hope we’ll meet again soon?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Song Lan nodded eagerly.

The two left together, a-Qing saying something inaudible that was making Xingchen giggle. Song Lan watched as he tapped her affectionately on the nose, the perfect image of an older brother.

He sighed, but soon felt a wet rag dumped into his hands and was forced to tear his eyes away from the now empty store front, “You’re on cleaning duty,” Wen Qing said, smirking, “You absolutely owe me.”

Song Lan nodded, taking the rag and proceeding to wipe down the tables, still half in a daze.

He went over to deal with the counters, where Wen Ning, enjoying a brief pause from the busy hours, asked, “So, do you think you’ll see him again?”

“I certainly hope so,” was Song Lan’s simple reply.

#sxreverseibb #untamed fall fest #songxiao #song lan #xiao xingchen #a qing #wen qing #cql #the untamed #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #my writing

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Dreams that keep you up in the still of the night (Favored Ones, Part 25.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “All the promises at sundown... I meant them like the rest.” - Pearl Jam

Part summary: For a moment there, it almost seemed that everything is going to be alright again. But as you had the time to think about what you were doing, how many people had you srewed and how many lives you’ve destroyed, you finally understood that your mind won’t be put the rest until you finish what you came to do in Seattle.

A/N: Well, we are here. It almost feels like a dream when I realize we’re almost at the end of the Seattle timeline and I have to say... I enjoyed telling you this story so, so, so much! 

Warnings: Gore, blood, murder, infected, guns, shooting, angst, graphic depiction of manslaughter, animal abuse and death, mentions of rough smut. 

Word count: 6.7 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​ @mad-hatter-98​ @sadiaafrin99​ @flavorishy

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day two - evening / Seattle, day three - shortly after midnight:

It was the gut feeling you got when you held Ellie which unsettled you, so you let one of your palms travel down to the handle of your knife while your best friend still cried on your shoulder. The touch was almost unnoticeable at the first moment, but when you heard an inhale right behind your back, you turned around aggressively as you took the knife out, going straight for that person's neck. They were strong and quick to react, catching your wrist so tightly it hurt. Just after that, you let your eyes wander on the stranger's body.

You didn't even have to see his face to know it's him who's kneeling in front of you. His smell gave him away at the exact moment when you inhaled it. Slowly, you smiled at the man and looked deep into his dark eyes. He was looking like fucking hell, but didn't you all look like that? He was muddy, bloody, wet, he had a bruise on his cheek and a violet hematoma slowly forming under his right eye. Joel was looking rough. Weirdly rough.

All of you went through hell that day - whether it was a physical hell, just like when you were escaping a whole building of Scars on your own, or when Ellie smashed Nora's body with an iron pipe. It was expected of you to cry, but all you did was that you hugged the man, your palm gently tugging on his hair as you pulled him even closer than before. Slowly, you closed your eyes, thanking every god out there for getting you your man back into your arms, David Bowie especially. - "Oh my Lord." - You hummed into his ear, sighing.

"How did you got out of the building... I... I thought you've died there, Joel." - A whisper left you as the man palmed your jaws with a grateful smile back. - "I will tell you later, 'kay? You both doin' good, are you 'kay?" - Joel stood up from you and went to hug Ellie as well, checking on her as well. Ellie was so surprised she immediately stopped crying. Somehow, the man's presence calmed her down enough for you to set on your journey back to the theatre. The rain seemed to get worse and worse during the duration of your journey. - "Did you reach the hospital?" - Joel asked when you entered the area which was already familiar to you.

"Yea, Nora isn't too happy with how the things turned out." - This answer told Joel everything he needed to know. It didn't matter which one of us have done it - it was clear that the girl isn't walking the world of the living by the time you were speaking. Which was most likely to be the expected result of the operation you were undergoing in Seattle. And honestly, Joel was somehow sure that Nora isn't the last one to die.

To everyone's surprise, Dina wasn't the one to open up the door - it was Jesse. Your black-haired Jesse. The Jackson Jesse. That one Jesse who immediately got a big, familiar hug when you saw him. At the first moment, you almost brought him down to the ground before you realized he's hurt. Something happened to him during his way to you. - "Are you out of your fucking mind? What the hell are you doing here?" - You asked, still hugging him with your eyes closed. It almost all looked like a wicked family gathering of some sort and it didn't even feel right by any means.

"Nice to see you too, geez. You're all looking awful." - Jesse took one good look at Joel, who had his whole face bruised and you were worried about what you'll find under his clothes. Ellie was looking significantly better once she hugged Dina and kissed her temple, but it still could be felt that something isn't quite adding up.

"As always, you're late to the fucking party." - Ellie mumbled on your was to the radio room where you could sit for a while, talking about what went down that day. Jesse still kept his hand over your shoulder in a friendly manner, leaning into you as you led him up the stairs carefully. - "You've missed a lot of fun here."

"Hey, I've been keeping these guys busy up in Hillcrest, you're welcome." - Jesse put his hands above his head when you sat him down on the chair, walking back to lean your head into Joel's shoulder. The man simply put his nose to your hair, taking in your scent with his eyes closed before he planted a careful kiss on your forehead. - "Y'all better start talking, because I've never seen any of you so done." - Jesse grinned and leaned his elbows to his knees, looking mainly at you and Joel. Each of you gave the others their side of the story - Ellie described how she found Jesse and then joined you in the sewers, you talked about losing Joel on the unfinished bridge, Jesse talked about his last two days in the Hillcrest neighborhood and Joel... He didn't say much other than he almost died here and there.

As soon as you gave Dina a report of what happened, everyone started to do their stuff - Jesse and Dina stayed in the radio room while you decided to take the cold shower in a tiny bathroom Ellie and Dina earlier found back in the changing room. Joel was there just a few minutes before you and told you that he hadn't felt as good in a long time.

And after two days of piling blood, dirt, and bruises on your body, even the coldest shower was feeling fucking good. It also was a good tool to wash all the thoughts and bad states of mind you had off of you. There was a small bottle of some gel and shampoo one of your fellow survivors found in the city and brought along, so you could clean yourself at least a bit - or give yourself the feeling of being clean. And because it was time to sleep already, you told your goodnight to everyone before you joined Joel back in your improvised bedroom in the entrance hall.

He was laying down with his elbow over his eyes, resting until you came in. The man knew you, so he knew that you'll ask him about the whole sky bridge incident. - "Hey there, deadman. How are we feeling?" - You asked quietly and put your clothes on the heating of the small room to dry them up before fucking them up again the other day.

"Like a deadman, kiddo." - Joel mumbled back, feeling as your thighs slowly circled his lap as you sat down, running your fingers along his chest for a while before carefully sliding under his t-shirt. It was an obvious sign of care and attention, but you were also looking for another wound or hematoma under his clothes. Although Joel knew what you were doing, he let you do your business. - "I'm just glad I've found you both alive at the tunnel. I was just on my way to the hospital when I saw you in that small loophole beside the main road."

"You wouldn't find much in the hospital, trust me, we took good care of it." - A whisper came out of you as you checked on his upper chest, taking your time with every small move. - "What happened up there? I was running with you and all of a sudden, you left me there." - With that, you climbed down, leaning your back to the wall as you finished the check-up. Joel now put his palms on his chest, looking into the ceiling.

"These Scars ain't that dumb, you see? They knew we'd split up and they realized that I'd be tryin' to save you no matter what. So some went after you and some tried comin' for me. For a moment, I thought I won't get outta there. But they have pretty bad aim." - The man chuckled, turning his head at you. - "And there was another bridge, so I tried walkin' that one because I knew you'll be gone from the other building. I've run into a huge guy on my way, that's this." - Joel pointed the tip of his finger on the small, almost black circle under his eye. - "And ever since then, I was makin' my way to you. No matter what was happenin', I didn't want to stop." - Joel explained and put his palm around your ankle, gently smoothing it with his finger.

"Stop being so cavalierish so much." - A whisper sounded trough the room again as you stretched your leg out again, having his fingers now massaging your thigh. Joel wasn't sure if that was an invitation, but it was all answered when you picked yourself up on your knees and gripped his t-shirt, making him pull up as well. The kiss which you gave him was devastating and brutal in many points of view - but it was the first proper kiss he got since you got to Seattle, so he didn't even think about saying something back.

It was because of Abby and her friends. They were on the back of your head all the fucking time. And now, you were close to finding her. The aquarium. The Seattle aquarium was the place where she was hiding. Each of you was so close to the thing you've come to accomplish in the city. The excitement, the nervosity, and rage made you want only one thing from your man - to fuck it out of you. You didn't care how he's going to do it - if he fucks you on all like a whore, tugging your hair. You didn't care a shitty bit about him slamming you into the floor, choking you with his palm. If Joel would like you to ride him like a horse, you would.

You just wanted all of there things to go away fast and simply - sex was the only thing you saw as the solution. Maybe it would at least make Joel fall asleep while you'd sneak to set on your way again so you'd be sure he'll be safe. Abruptly, you started to undress, tugging on your shirt so violently that you heard at least one of the buttons fly away violently while you felt his palms already palming both your breasts, playing with both your nipples, playfully tugging on them and pulling them out. It looked as if you were on the same page already, which honestly made you go for the kiss even more hastily than before.

When Joel made you lay down onto the space bags, it almost knocked your breath out as you closed your eyes for a second, furrowing at the uneasy feeling in your chest. - "You 'kay?" - The man asked immediately, worried that he had hurt you. - "Just fuck me like a whore, Joel, do it, come on. Please." - And that was all he needed to hear from you. You got exactly what you begged for - no foreplay, harsh, almost bruising touches, hand on your throat, and his pelvis almost crushing yours with the strength of each move he made. There were moments when Joel had to cover your mouth because you forgot how loud could you be at times.

It didn't take too long until he finished, having you aching as he slipped out, putting his sweaty forehead on your chest to listen to your fastened heartbeat. You haven't hit the jackpot, which wasn't even your main intention, so you weren't even disappointed. There was a silence as both of you caught your breath while your fingers brushed his shoulders, dipping into his hair gently as you pulled him even closer. - "I was afraid I won't ever see you again." - You said honestly, so Joel could feel the fear in your voice. In an answer, he snickered, kissing the small spot between your breasts.

"I'm pretty tired, baby girl. Would you, eh..." - The man asked reluctantly, so you nudged his shoulder to make him continue. - "Would you sing me somethin'?" - He breathed out to the skin of your thigh when you pulled your shirt back on, covering him in his sleep bag, letting him snuggle back to you. - "Don't you also wanna make me go for the guitar down there? Do I look like a jukebox to you?" - You hummed back, seemingly denying his request.

It almost looked as if you weren't about to sing for him when you just played with the strands of his hair, putting them from place to place, but suddenly...

"Talking away, and I don't know what I'm to say, but I'll say it anyway," - You started quietly, just humming when there were no words to sing. Joel didn't like it when people didn't sing the right lyrics of the song, but for you, he was willing to make a compromise. Especially when you were singing this song. - "I'll be coming for your love, okay? Take on me, take me on. I'll be gone, in a day or two..." - You sighed and closed your eyes. Your mouth continued with singing the words, but your brain was concentrated on something different. The Seattle aquarium. Abby was in the Seattle aquarium at the very moment you were laying there with Joel against your chest.

You should be empty after your man singlehandedly fucking the living soul out of you - but instead of that, as his breath started to deepen, you were thinking about her. This was a chance you weren't sure that will happen twice in a lifetime. It was just two to three hours from the place of your stay on foot. If you'd catch at least an hour of sleep, you could surprise Abby in the night, maybe hitting her unprepared and vulnerable.

It was pure torture, knowing how close she was now. The more you thought of that, the closer she was. The closer were your hands around her neck, the redemption you came for. During your thinking of Abby, you've managed to fall asleep. And for the first time, you were having a dream that didn't look like a fucking nightmare from the very first moment of its begging. For which, you were very grateful.

Could you be in a place you haven't ever seen? It seemed so because there was the aquarium around you in all its glory. There were fish swimming in the tanks, beautiful underwater plants as far as you could see and the sunlight was shining through the place. Could there even be a place as vibrant as this was? It was serene, almost heavenly unreal.

And Abby was sitting there on a bench, looking into the tanks with a thoughtful look. It seemed that this dream won't even be violent - until the woman got on her feet. It was hard to make out what was she saying. Your brain couldnt recall what her voice sounded like, but it remembered her intonation and the parts when she deepened it. All you could make out was that she was talking about Nora and her other friends. The ones that died by your hand. Abby smashed you to one of the tanks, cracking it open. A small trail of water ran on the glass as you turned back and kicked her knee.

Now you knew that you're not strong enough to go one-on-one with her, but you were also smaller and more agile against this huge, tall woman. Which you had to utilize. It could quite literally save your goddamn life. There was this kind of a dance going on between you for a moment - you tugged her braid, she broke your nose again, you kicked her between her legs and she threw you on your back, almost getting ready to finish you for good. That was until she realized you stole her gun and that you were now pointing at her face.

The woman rose her palms above her hand, backing away from you, pleading you to spare her life. But you shot her nonetheless. Once, twice and then for the final, third time. When you were both laying on the ground, but only one of you was alive, you've expected something to hit you. Something. Anything. A feeling, a thought, a wish, something.

But instead of that, as you walked up to Abby to look at her, there was nothing. You weren't feeling a single thing. Sure, it wasn't a real situation you were in. You had to remember that you're only inside your head while seeing all of it. But no matter what you tried to see on Abby's corpse, no matter what you were digging from the very bottom of yourself, it simply wasn't there. Was this the big victory you've been waiting for? This sure as hell wasn't what you hoped for. This was all you've done for finding Abby coming to the final stop. Were you doing this just to feel empty, almost used, disgusted by everything? What was happening?

Surely, this was your mind trying to send you a message of some kind. But it didn't make any sense to you. The message was surrounded by a mystery that wasn't understandable for you - but it was enough to wake you up. Joel was still dead asleep, laying on your chest and breathing deeply in and out. It couldn't be more than two hours since you've fallen asleep, so it was a perfect time to sneak out of the theatre. But just when you tried to find your way of how to wiggle from under Joel, you realized he maybe wasn't as asleep as you thought he was.

"You can't let it go, can you? Is it so hard to leave it all behind?" - The known, raspy voice asked you and his hand smoothed your hip. Quickly, you gulped and closed your eyes painfully. Why did you have to wake him up? That was a mistake. Now, you had to explain yourself. But he was right, you couldn't let it go even if it most likely meant that Abby will kill you in the aquarium.

If that was to mean that this was your last journey before ending up in the depths of the hell, so be it. If you were about to be killed at the aquarium and if that was meant to be your destiny, so be it. You've deserved whatever was waiting for you inside of there. Death, emptiness, sadness, fear, or hatred, you deserved it for what had you done to the other people. And to ensure you'll get all of it, you made an amend. You were about to kill everyone who would stand in your way to Abby. Whether it was infected, the Scars, or WLF, you didn't care. In the end, the woman will be awaiting you, warned about your arrival long before she'll see you.

"You know the answer, do you have to ask?" - You answered and sat up, smoothing your face. - "I can't sleep at night, Joel. And when I do, she is there to haunt me again and again. Ellie can't put an end to this, neither can Tommy and sure as hell you can't end this. I have to be the one. It has to be me or I'll never find peace, Joel." - With a nod, you assured yourself, feeling cold sweat running down your body as you shifted at the uncomfortable emptiness the dream had brought you. - "No matter what, I'm going to the fucking aquarium. I don't care what you tell me. You can join me if you want, but I don't want you to see any of it. One of us will die inside that building," - You turned your head to Joel, looking him dead in his eyes. - "And whether it will be me or her, you'll just have to accept it."

With that, you picked yourself up to put your clothes on as you thought about your stuff when you saw Joel joining in. - "Are you sure," - "Stop fucking asking me if I'm sure. Stop it already. You cant change a single shit with it." - You hit the wall with your palm, turning your head at the man. - "Are you sure you wanna kill her?" - Joel finished the question no matter how irritated did make you.

"Death doesn't solve anythin', girl. You can kill as many people as you want, but you know who will suffer in the end?" - The man huffed into your face, but he wasn't angry with you. No. He was concerned. - "It will be you. Or her. Or me. Or Ellie. Do you think that if you'd kill her, you'd feel better than how you're feelin' now? Y/N, listen, this ain't how this works, you hear me?" - Joel shook his head as he pulled up his trousers. - "I know that mercy and justice don't live side by side, but you spoke about that cycle of yours. But you know what's this 'bout?" - He asked again, having you shake your head.

"You ain't breakin' the cycle by rushin' to the aquarium in the dark of the nite, listen to me. All this is good for it repeatin' the cycle again. And you know what comes after this? Someone else comes back for revenge. And this time, they won't be lookin' after me, no, they'll be comin' after you. What then? Would you wanna go here again, repeating the same mistake until it would get you killed for real?" - His palms took hold on your shoulders. This was making a lot of sense if you had to be honest. Every word Joel had told you was making sense. But the decision was already made. - "I know what I'm talkin' 'bout, baby girl, listen to me. Let's go back to sleep, wait for the mornin', look for Tommy, and leave home already. This ain't bringin' any good." - Joel begged you. He had a family to protect. You were his family just like Ellie was. And with the situation ruling over Seattle, it was time to just go home - he knew that Abby will get herself killed sooner or later. But when you looked down with that empty gaze and turned away, he had to sigh deeply. How many warning signs did you have to see before turning back?

You were almost done with everything, so you stepped into the hall - just to find Jesse and Ellie already there, both dressed up as well. And you were also the first one to speak. - "Where do you think you're going?" - Your finger pointed at both of them. - "This isn't happening. You're staying here."

"We heard you and Joel arguing..." - Jesse started. - "Again." - Ellie finished for him. - "And honestly, Y/N, he's right. I've had enough of this fuckery. I've seen and done enough bad here. My girlfriend is pregnant with this clown," - She snickered and bumped her elbow into Jesse's side. - "And I have to make sure she's safe. And she ain't safe here at the moment. I have a family to protect." - Ellie sighed and looked Joel into his eyes, finally, even if only partially, understanding what did he mean by that statement.

"It was different when we were on our way here. We didn't know about single thing what is waiting for us here and, look, were honestly lucky to be alive at this point." - "I'm not holding any of you in Seattle." - You answered with a snicker. - "Youre free to pack your things and go home. If you'd like to leave with now, please, go. But I have something to finish here."

"No, Y/N, you're not catching my drift. Let's just... Find Tommy, wrap it up and go home, please." - Your best friend stopped you from your march to the door, catching your elbow in her palm. - "This is going to kill you." - She said honestly, now slowly leaning her forehead to yours as she closed her eyes to take a deep breath in. Slowly, you nodded, putting her palms away. - "I know. But... If you want to find Tommy, you have to go after Abby, that's all I'm saying."

You were the first one to leave the building. It was breaking your heart to hear someone crying inside the theatre before you realized it's Dina. The girl was hugging Ellie, begging her to stay there with her, safe and sound. But Ellie was shaking her eyes, telling her that she can't stay. So Dina made Jesse promise that he'll keep her safe no matter what - even if he'd have to die in the process.

Yet, as soon as you set on your way, you realized there's another obstacle in your way - the entire downtown of Seattle was flooded from the rain which was going on for the last two days. This could complicate a lot, well, that was until you've all heard something, hiding out of the sight of the flashlight. It was a motorboat. Which was as smart as it was unreal - you hadn't seen anything working inside Seattle. No lights, no electricity, no working cars. And suddenly, there was a motorboat. Which could be... - "This is our ticket to the aquarium." - You realized out loud, looking at your friends hiding in the dark.

"And whatcha want to do now? We're going to... Just steal it from them?" - Jesse hissed back at you when you were looking down on the boat which was slowly parking just three floors under you.

"Why would I steal it from them? When they're dead, you can't count it as stealing anymore." - You answered more or less immediately, which had Jesse shook at the words you've said. - "You're about to do what?" - Jesse hissed back again, being horrified by the things that just left your lips. The Y/N he knew would never even joke about this topic of killing someone.

"Jesse, Seattle was hard on each of us." - Ellie answered when she heard your bickering, crawling between you to look down on the boat as well. - "What's the plan of the attack?" - "There isn't any plan of attack! What are you two even talking about? What we are about to do is to tiptoe around these guys and walk to the aquarium." - Jesse tried to intervene, but just when he finished the sentence, a bolt of lightning struck one of the super high skyscrapers and rain which could be described as hell was started, which made you raise your eyebrows.

"You were saying, son?" - You asked, licking your eyebrows when Jesse got out of the hiding, walking back to the shadows. - "This wrong in so many levels, Y/N, I don't wanna do that." - "Then sit here in the shadows and let me and Ellie work it out. We'll do just fine without you." - This wasn't the friend Jesse knew and loved. This person in front of him was someone strange he hadn't met yet.

"Seven-eight? It's three-oh-five, you hear me?" - Each of you shut up when a signal from a walkie talkie hit your ears. At that moment, not even the sharpest eye would spot trespassers at the WLF territory. - "Yeah, I hear you, wassup, Mike?" - A woman answered to the walkie talkie, walking around the small harbor.

"Another trespasser in the harbor... Fuck, I'm sick of this place already. He's shooting our people with a rifle like a maniac. You better move with the loading and head back." - The man answered via the transportable device. Each of you heard the woman's sigh as she tried to straighten the fact inside her head. - "Okay, we'll start loading now. What about the operation, you've heard something 'bout that?" - She asked. The operation was most likely referring to the attack the WLF planned on the Scars, most likely in the cultists' territory.

"It went south in my opinion, dude, I haven't heard from Isaac in hours. We're now stepping to the plan B." - Mike answered quickly and you heard the woman stopped because you could no longer hear her footsteps walking around. - "But, according to plan B, we are to leave Seattle." - The woman answered in a firm voice, not understanding what was going on. And according to the confused looks you gave each other, you didn't understand what was happening either.

"Listen to me. Load the damn crates, we have to regroup in the base - or there will be no more WLF. Over and out, kill." - Mike ended the whole call, leaving the woman in the dark again. But soon, she called out to her friends. - "We need to move it, guys! Isaac has gone MIA." - She clapped her hands and other WLFs, which you could see according to their flashbacks turning around the darkened place, still covered in the night shadows.

"It's Tommy." - Ellie assumed in a quick whisper. - "That Mike guy was talking about Tommy. A trespasser shooting them with a rifle? I mean, come on." - She mumbled. That was great - Tommy was alive, which made you sigh with a small grin. But this wasn't just enough to make you turn around, walking to the harbor. This made Jesse look at you without nothing to say - until he found his words again.

"No, stop. This isn't you. Let's just sneak around and find Tommy. Come on." - Jesse muttered out more like a plea, trying to lead you from the building. To his bad luck, your mind was already set on the boat. And now, after two whole days of your unstopping journey in Abby's steps, there was no way in hell that something like stealing a motorboat from a few guys would stop you. When you shook your head again, Jesse knew that this is a battle that will come in vain. - "You know what? Do what you will, I just don't wanna see this massacre. I'm going after Tommy. Someone going with me?" - Jesse walked from the three of you with his hands above his head. Ellie shook her head as well, getting on her knees to accompany Jesse. - "We'll see each other at the theatre, you hear me?" - Your best friend asked quietly, hugging you with force.

With that, Jesse and Ellie left the building again. Soon, both you and Joel started to do what you were so good at. But this time, it all went downhill - the woman with the walkie talkie noticed you as you were just putting a different body down. Joel walked from behind her, putting his elbow around her neck. - "Not a word, you hear me?" - The man mumbled to her ear, while you seemed to be more or less fascinated with the walkie talkie. Slowly, you came to the woman, who had a fearful expression as she watched every move you made. But the only thing you did was that you turned the walkie talkie on, looking the woman dead in her eyes.

"Three-oh-five? Seven-eight here, you copy?" - You asked, furrowing upon listening to the static. But Mike answered no matter what. - "Emma, I told you not to call me again. Just do what you're told, 'kay? It's already hard enough without you trying to discuss this." - Mike answered shortly after, seemingly starting to be already annoyed. To stop Emma from talking, you put your mouth over her mouth, feeling her wiggling under Joel's arms until she heard the revolver's fuse opening. At that, she stopped again.

"Emma isn't there, Mike. Tell Abby that were on our way." - You finished before tugging the walkie talkie out of her vest, throwing it into the water below. With that, Joel made sure she's unconscious by hitting her temple with the handle of the gun. - "You ready to go?" - A question made Joel come back to you from the trance as you were stepping into the boat. You basically made sure that the WLFs will show up in the building, you invited them over if you had to be honest. So the sooner you'd leave, the bigger chance there was that the won't know who showed up there.

Soon, you were on your way. Joel was driving the boat forward with an expressionless face, feeling the ice-cold rain running on both of you. You, in the meantime, were looking around the whole city center, trying to get your blood off your clothes with a furrow. These days, it was quite quick to have blood spilled all over you, destroying the clothes for good.

Since the sea was raging at the moment, Joel decided not to drive the boat there - instead, you stopped in a small bay just a few yards from the harbor when that aquarium was located. It was less than a ten-minute-lasting walk. Yet the closer you found yourself to the aquarium, the heavier your stomach was feeling. That fucking girl was inside the building, just yards from you. Your whole body felt very excited even if your brain knew how twisted the feeling is. Quickly, you shook your head as you and Joel started to find your way inside.

It didn't take you long to find a big hole in the fence which was delimiting the authorized personnel only area. From that moment, you quickly found a way inside. Soon, you were both kneeling in front of a broken window, from which you could perfectly see inside the empty fish tanks. It was there, right in front of you... So... Why couldn't you move forward? What was holding you back? - "You comin'?" - Joel said, already jumping down inside the building. So you jumped after him into the dark unknown.

Walking through the old, mostly destroyed aquarium was feeling weird. The tanks were emptied out completely without any residents - whether you expect fish, sharks, or lobsters, maybe even jellyfish, none of that was there. You even got a chance to walk through an empty exhibit that still had some water inside of it. There were dead corals on the rocks inside of it and the only thing you could do was to imagine what this aquarium was looking like when it was all good before the outbreak.

After a few minutes of mindless walking around the place, you found an airshaft, which was out of order for a long time. You crawled in first, but before doing that step, you grabbed a pipe laying on the ground. Which, again, reminded you of Abby. You had pipe when you bumped to Abby for the first time. And you were thinking of her every second of crawling through the airshaft full of moose and various other plants which usually grew in a humid environment. But before you could make something out of the thoughts, the construction fell under you. You did your best not to scream, but the mess it made was still loud enough. Slowly, you tried to pick yourself up from the ground when you stopped.

It wasn't even stopping - you just froze when you realized that you're hearing violent growling. Slowly, you rose up eyes, watching a German shepherd slowly walking towards you with its teeth stuck out as it growled at you, watching you with its eyes. Its tail was pulled between its legs. Even someone who had never seen an aggressive dog could tell that this animal was about to attack. When it charged against you, all you did was that you pressed your pipe into its chest, trying to keep the animal at least a bit away from your face.

It was strange - the dog was making all kinds of weird, crazy scary sounds, but it wasn't barking. Sure, you had far worse problems at the moment, but this was actually a good sign. Whether Abby or someone else was there, the dog wasn't about to alert them, because just when it spilled their saliva all over your face, Joel pushed a knife into its neck. His palm turned it around to make sure the animal won't attack you anymore. Then, he pulled the knife out and pushed the dead animal's body laying on the ground.

"Jesus..." - Joel kneeled to the animal, watching its twitching eyes and muscles while he slowly ran his palm in its fur. The man in front of you was an animal lover. Sure, he would choose you over any aggressive animal, but it wasn't making him easy killing one. - "I never knew I will sink so damn low to kill pets." - Joel sighed and pulled back on his legs, while you bowed to the corpse as well.

"This isn't a pet, Joel. WLFs are keeping these animals against trespassers and infected. If you wouldn't be here, this dog would definitely kill me. And this one was... Alice." - You mumbled upon reading the dog tag, kneeling down as well to at least close the dog's eyes. Sure, you and Ellie met some dogs before, but you've never killed any of them since you were too afraid to even get close to them. But it was apparent that Alice is more than a killing machine. This dog was domesticated as well as it was used for the hunt.

"You should see this, baby girl." - Joel told you quietly as soon as you walked into the next room. This was a surgeon room with the metal operating table, presumably used for the sigh and other animals before the outbreak. But the blooded pads and compressing bandages just like the alcohol smelling throughout the whole room told you that the room was used recently. There were needles and thin stitched laying around, but when you looked into the freezer, your stomach kicked so bad that you almost puked, immediately walking away from it.

Joel took one good look as well - and even his stomach had kicked upon seeing a human arm laying between the ice. It wasn't naturally toned - the skin, even if it was already starting to rot, was as red as a tomato. - "Do you think that... When there's the arm... They ate the rest of them?" - A mumble left you while you stilled tried not to throw up. Listen, you've murdered enough people to know that you're a bad person. But never ever would you consider eating a human being. No. That was a taboo.

Just when the man was about to answer, you heard two voices coming from a distance. A man and a woman were arguing in a different part of the building, which made you exchange a quick glance before walking to the sources. With a gulp, you walked through the maze - bumping into the room the people slept in, into their improvised kitchen, dressing room, and bathroom. You walked around the place until you heard the voices clearly even if the people were just talking. Slowly, you stopped Joel from going there first.

"Stay there, okay?" - You whispered and spoke out sooner than Joel answered back. - "We need the benefit of surprise. I'll go first and when they'll be suspecting the least, you will follow, yeah?" - Gently, you put your palm on the man's cheek, nodding at him. It was a smart plan, actually. So Joel watched as you turned on your heels and more or less sneaked towards the door. A beam of light was coming through the small gap and you could see two people talking inside a big hall with a whole model of a whale hanging from the ceiling.

It was so close now you could feel it on your fingerprints. You couldn't tell if the woman figure was Abby - you didn't saw her whole body, you could barely remember her voice, you didn't know if the woman was the one you were searching for. One last time, you made sure that you're holding the pipe tight before you pushed the door open, walking into the hall, having both the people looking at you.

And soon, thanks to Joel, two human lives were spared that night. But at the moment, you just watched the two people looking at you cluelessly.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us part two #the last of us imagine #the last of us part 2 #jesse the last of us #tommy miller #tommy the last of us #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x y/n #Joel Miller Imagine #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #ellie x dina #dina something something #dina the last of us #ellie and joel #miss alice #i am so sorry for happened to alice #but there was no way around it #i tried to describe it as vague as possible #but I just feel sick #just as sick as when I killed alice in the game #german shepherd alice #abby anderson #abby anderson the last of us

[stusbunker]

What Lingers Within: Four

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Mini Series

Featuring: Past Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Sam gets a voicemail, a flashback and our reader faces off with Katelyn.

Word Count: 1397 (I’m sorry it’s a short week)

Written for: @thisismysecrethappyplace​

Warnings: Grief, attempted manslaughter

Beta’d by: @itmighthavebeenintentional​

Beta’d and Aesthetic by: @thoughtslikeaminefield​

Series Masterlist

^*^*^

               Dean was pissed with Cas; he hadn’t responded to any of their messages. Which also meant that he hadn’t bothered to contact Y/N about her memories. Which suddenly was a bigger offense than dodging him and Sam for weeks on end. Dean didn’t realize how badly he wanted to have her look at him again, really look at him. He wanted her to rip him a new one, or something. Anything that could ease the thrumming loss of her touch. He felt like an addict who had just been exposed to his drug of choice after years on the wagon. His veins called out for her.

               Dean bent over the steering wheel, watching the clouds in the sky as a personal threat to his baby. Sam was on his phone beside him, annoying his brother by just breathing.

               “Huh,” Sam said, bringing his phone to his ear. “Michelle called.”

               “And?” Dean pressed.

               “And I’m listening to my voicemail,” Sam rolled his eyes. “I guess she took her to work to clear off her desk, but that was thirty minutes ago and now she’s not answering Michelle’s texts.”

               “She might have been sidetracked? You know people butting in after everything.” Dean tried downplaying it.

               “Office busy-bodies. Sure.” Sam flipped his hair toward the window as he hit redial. Dean couldn’t hold onto logical indifference for long. “Just keep driving. Michelle? Sam Winchester. Where is she—-And how long has it been since you saw her? Alright, don’t go into the office we don’t know who’s in on this—- We’re about an hour away.”

               “At this time of day, it’s closer to two, Sam,” Dean growled, throwing the car into an illegal U-turn. Sam nodded in agreement as he listened.

               “Alright, keep us posted. We’re on our way. Yeah, bye,” Sam ended the call.

               “Goddamn it!” Dean hit the steering wheel and floored the gas.

               “Hey, we’ll find her,” Sam bullshitted reassurance.

               Dean didn’t respond, just inhaled and locked onto the road ahead.

^*^*^

    She didn’t know how Dean got there without getting himself or someone else killed. His eyes held at half mast and he smelled like a tavern dumpster. She knew it was bad, but she couldn’t know how bad. The worst, in fact.

    She manhandled him up the back steps and onto the couch. Letting him sleep it off, not bothering with the state of him until he could get himself into the shower. She never believed in babying him. She pushed open the curtains around noon, letting the sunshine pelt over every inch of drool and whiskey stink he had on him. The day moved forward on grunts and her brusque replies, always a notch or two too loud. She pushed him out of his misery into a hungover rage, but at least it meant he was talking.

    Dean couldn’t even get pissed, he was so broken. He yelled because that’s what she was expecting him to do. But what was the point? The fight had left him. He dropped down onto the kitchen chair and buried his face against the table and cried. He didn’t face her, he barely even flinched when she snaked her arms in and held him. Finally, she could start to understand.

    Sam was gone. The world spun on, but Dean couldn’t. Not yet.

^*^*^

               Brain damage is more severe the longer someone is unconscious, that was your first thought upon waking up. You had been knocked out twice in four days; that couldn’t be good. At least this time it was a drugging, somebody had gotten you on the street in the middle of rush hour. Your nasal passages stung with the aftermath.

               Slowly, you realized you were in a type of basement or service tunnel, surrounded by concrete with no discernible exit. They hadn’t bothered to tie you up, which would have made you laugh if you weren’t in danger of being murdered at any moment. You took quiet breaths, trying to figure out where you were in reference to your captors and what you were going to do once they came back for you. God, why had you ever taken this stupid job?!

               Suddenly you remembered that Michelle had texted you and you worried that she was in danger somewhere else, or if she was still waiting in the timed parking spot for you to walk out with the meager belongings from your desk. A mix of fear Michelle had gone looking for you and something not quite hope she called Dean or Sam cascaded through you as Katelyn strutted back into your line of vision.

               “Well, looks like somebody is up and at ‘em,” was her obnoxiously obvious greeting.

               You didn’t reply, just glared at her superior expression as she walked closer. The whole space was grimy, and you tried not to dwell on the smell, beyond mildew there was a gaseous odor that made you feel on edge. Maybe it was just side effects from the drugs. You tried not to gag.

    “You’re probably wondering where I’ve got you— hoping your asshole con men will come to your rescue?” Katelyn goaded.

    You stood up, facing her pointed features and rolled your shoulders. “Not really. I’m just wondering where your muscle wandered off to.”

    As she started to chuckle, looking to the shadowed service door she had slinked out of, you dove for her. She let out a short shriek as you tackled her, using your momentum and what strength you had to hold her down. You palmed her mouth, trying to keep her from calling out for help. She squirmed against you, but your weight on her chest left her out of breath and pinned in place. You ignored her fists as they struck out at any part of you they could reach. Her nose flared with the effort, and you looked into her eyes with satisfaction at the fear you found there amongst the threaded lashes and botox.

    “You are seriously the worst. And I hope you rot in hell,” you spat, slamming her head into the damp floor.

      Somehow you had no qualms with battering her skull until she passed out, she was capable of anything at this point and you needed to neutralize her before you could escape. You had no idea where the rage with a side of tactical logic came from, but with the urge to win was stronger now that you had your hands on the bitch; you leaned into it.

     Forcefully, you pushed into her sides with your knees, reinstating your tight hold before reaching your freehand up to pinch her nose. You weren’t sure the time difference between unconsciousness and death, but this was the least brutal thing that you could do. You stared straight ahead, beyond her and what you were doing. 

        If you didn’t watch, you couldn’t remember doing it.

        An eternity later, she went limp. You counted to twenty and let go of her face. Katelyn remained still. Closing your eyes against what you had been driven to do, you slowly peeled yourself off of her body. Your legs protesting as your circulation evened out once more. 

    It stung to take in air, the sour taste in your mouth only amplified by the stench. If still she had back up, you hadn’t seen or heard them since you had come to. Was escape even possible at this point? Frantically you looked around the room, with nowhere to hide and only one exit it seemed inevitable. You needed to move, especially if Katelyn was going to wake up. You needed to get help. 

        You needed a phone.

      Naturally, yours was nowhere to be found, but that didn’t stop you from tentatively searching Katelyn’s pants for hers. Thank whoever, it was there and it was unlocked. You went to messages and at the top of the list of conversations was one with an unread message. Ignoring the temptation, you dialed your own number hoping someone heard it in the alley, wishing you still knew phone numbers by heart so you could call Michelle directly.

    Actively avoiding calling 9-1-1 went against everything you had been taught, but you had just potentially committed manslaughter. Besides, after Katelyn’s release you had started to doubt the system more than ever before. When the phone rang through to your voicemail, you shoved your hand in your back pocket only to find your salvation.

^*^*^

Series tags: @tiggytaylor​ @vicmc624​ 

Gen SPN tags:  @flamencodiva​ @dolphincliffs​ @dontshootmespence​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​  @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @foxyjwls007​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008​ @princessofthefandomrealm​ @wingedcatninja​

^*^*^

Read On: Chapter Five

#what lingers within #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #amnesia #dean angst #suffocation #flashback #dean winchester x reader

[ak47stylegirl]

Life Changes: Chapter 16

Chapter 16 is done! wooohoo! XD 

This fic is dedicated to @gumnut-logic (also thanks Nutty for letting me use Jack XD) 

The rest of the chapters can be found here. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! XD

----

Virgil pov

He rolled over in bed, staring blankly out at the city skyline; the sun having risen long ago. Three days have passed since that dreadful night, and Alan still hasn't woken up. 

Their baby brother had fallen in to a coma. 

The doctors had started to suspect that Alan could have suffered undetected brain damage, ordering brain scans to be performed. And as it became clear that Alan wasn’t going to wake up any time soon, the hospital had moved him to a more secure, more permanent room in the ICU.

Where they could visit him freely and without restrictions on how many of them could see him at a time. Kayo had also doubled their security immensely in the last couple of days, doing background checks on all of the hospital staff. 

And it was no surprise to any of them that Dr Jim Smith was on the list of ‘don’t come ten feet near Alan or you die’ list. Kayo had been very insistent on that. As well as background checks, Kayo had also (somehow?!) compiled a team of vetted and trained security guards for them.  

There were three guards standing watch outside their hotel room right now, along with two more guarding Alan’s hospital room. Plus Kayo, who insisted on protecting Alan personally and not even hell freezing over would change her mind. 

And in a sense, Kayo was also guarding Scott, who had barely left Alan’s side; only leaving to eat, sleep and take bathroom breaks. Even Grandma couldn’t get him to leave on the threat of home cooking…

Which wasn’t a threat that you take lightly, she would actually follow up on it but even that time old trick has lost its magic in the last few days. Their world was falling apart, and a little bit of burnt food didn’t scare them like it used to. 

The hospital was encouraging them to talk to Alan like he was awake and could hear them, that hearing their voices could help him regain consciousness. 

But he couldn’t even step foot in the hospital after seeing Alan laid out on that hospital bed; Neck in a brace, unable to breathe on his own, almost lifeless in his stillness. 

He had stumbled out of the ICU and into Scott’s arms, sobbing his heart out on his big brother’s shoulder. Repeating over and over again that he was to blame, that it was all his fault!

Scott had pushed him away slightly, his hands placed firmly on his shoulders with an almost furious look in his eyes. “It is not your fault, Virgil!” His brother had snapped, blue eyes ablaze with emotions. 

“There nothing-” Scott’s voice cracked, wavering slightly, “-you could have done, so please stop this…” 

He had been so startled by...well the fact that Scott had been pleading with him, begging him to stop blaming himself, that he had just nodded mindlessly. He was just so tired at that point, that he just wasn’t going to fight Scott on it.

That first night, he was in such a state of distress that the only way he was even able to fall asleep was because Grandma had chosen to sit by his bedside until he fell asleep; effectively comforting him enough that he was able to finally fall into a much needed deep sleep.

He was a complete wreck of his normal self. All while falling asleep that first night, all he could think about was how much of a failure he was. And he still was thinking that, because he couldn’t even muster up the will to get out of bed. 

It was like his mind and body had just shut down completely. Before he was feeling too many emotions; now, he was struggling to feel anything. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat…

Every time he closed his eyes, he would see his baby brother bleeding out on that gala floor or on that hospital bed, so still, so lifeless…

And with every day that passed with no sign of Alan waking, his nightmares got worse and worse. He knew John and Gordon had noticed, how could they possibly not have? They were sleeping just a bed or two across from him.

He hated that he was worrying his brothers, because why else would they be here with him when they could be at Alan’s bedside instead? He thought with a sigh, looking over at his brothers, who were sitting on the bed across from him. 

John was sitting in the corner of the bed, legs crossed as he furiously typed away at his tablet.  All while ignoring Gordon, who was spread lengthways across the bed, half-heartedly strolling through his phone. 

The room was filled with an anxious boredom as they waited for Grandma or Scott to call them with some form of news on the results of Alan’s brain scans. 

But the nearly endless wait was driving them stir-crazy…

When will they hear some news? And would they like what they may hear? If he was being honest, he was dreading that phone call. Because what if the results came back positive? 

Hasn’t Alan suffered enough? 

“Honestly!?” Gordon yelled, causing him to jump and look over at his brother, who was glaring at his phone. “you would think they would have better things to report on then our family!” 

“Unfortunately” John lowered his tablet with a weary sigh. “Anything happening to our family is front-page news to those people..”

Gordon scowled, throwing his phone down on the bed; missing John by a thin margin. “Well, I don’t care if it's front-page news or whatever, why can’t they just say out of it?!” 

Gordon’s face crumbled slightly as he moved into a sitting portion, hugging his knees. “His face is plastered all over the interwebs John…” Gordon whispered, his voice losing its anger and in its place was an immense sadness. 

“Along with those grainy photos of Virg-” Gordon frozen, suddenly realising that he was, in fact, awake and looking right at him “Um, I mean-”   

He sighed deeply, forcing himself to sit up, “You mean those cellphone photos of me desperately trying to keep Alan from bleeding to death?” He answered almost emotionlessly as he rubbed at his face tiredly. “I have seen them already, Gords..”

He couldn’t even turn the TV on or go on his phone without getting blasted with reminders of what happened. And even then the news networks would be blasting it from the tallest skyscrapers. 

It was like it was haunting him everywhere he went... 

He frowned slightly, moving so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He could feel John’s eyes on him, scrutinising him like he was a complex math problem John was trying to figure out. He didn’t like it...

“Um...yeah, those photos…” Gordon mumbled, rubbing his arm nervously, his eyes flickering between looking at him and not looking at him; Gordon’s reddish-brown eyes filled with barely masked concern.  

Everybody has been giving him that look lately…

Gordon looked over at John, “Can’t you or Jack do anything about it? Like maybe get them taken down?”  Jack was their lawyer and a pretty good one at that. 

John sighed again, shaking his head. “Jack is already flat out busy with making sure the people responsible for all of this get life in prison..” John explained, his frustration and fury at the people responsible for hurting their little brother clear in his voice. “Doesn’t help that the GDF is being difficult…”

“Difficult?” He wondered softly; his curiosity peaked, “how so? I thought It would be clear and easy?” 

They attempted to kill Allie; the GDF should easily see that they deserved to get life in prison? 

John’s eyes flashed to him again with that same masked concern in them as Gordon’s eyes had. “You would think so, but the higher-ups of GDF are thinking of treating this as an attempted robbery gone wrong, rather than attempted manslaughter because, well-” John hesitated, avoiding their eyes. 

“Because?” Gordon questioned. 

John sighed wearily, looking up at them with a deadly serious expression, “-Because apparently to them there isn’t enough proof to prove that Alan getting shot was intentional...” 

His eyes widened in horror. 

What?!

“What?!” Gordon exclaimed, jumping up from the bed in outrage “Not enough proof?! Alan is in a coma and paralysed because of that asshole!” Angry tears had gathered in Gordon’s eyes. “Maybe even brain-damaged! How is there not enough proof?!” 

He stood up and walked over to the window, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and keep some kind of control over himself; what happened to not feeling anything?

Deep breaths Virgil, deep breaths... 

“What about all of the witnesses?” he questioned, facing away from his brothers as he glared out the window. “Everybody saw it, you…” his voice shook “you couldn’t miss it if you tried..” 

Alan’s terrified eyes, a flash and a loud bang. Allie on the floor, blood everywhere; baby brother crying in pain. That man laughing...

He gripped the windowsill tightly, glaring out at the skyline, “Everybody knew why, it wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t a stray bullet…” He took a shaky deep breath, feeling his eyes fill with moisture, “He looked right at me and said ‘International rescue couldn’t save my sister from being paralysed, so now I’ll return the favour!’” 

He turned to face his brothers, both their faces bleached pale; Gordon’s more than John’s. This was the first time he has spoken in detail about what transpired that night to his brothers. “There's no way that wasn’t intentional..”

“They’re going to get what they deserve Virg, Jack and Lady Penelope are confident of that…” John spoke, his voice taking on a gentler tone, the tone he uses when he’s talking to distressed and panicked rescuees. 

He hated the fact that John felt the need to use that voice on them, on him...

“It may not seem like it but…” John’s shoulders dropped, his brother’s eyes filled with exhaustion. “But it only has been three days since that night; court cases take time...”  

“Feels way longer than just three days…” Gordon muttered softly, scuffing the sole of his shoe into the carpet. “Especially with Allie not..” Gordon dropped back down on the bed next to John, wrapping his arms around himself tightly, “you know, waking up..” 

Every single one of big brother instincts was screaming at him to go and comfort his brother, but he hesitated, and in that time, John had beat him to it.

“I know Gordy...” John sighed sadly, pulling Gordon in a loose one-armed hug; their little brother collapsing like a rag doll against John's chest with a little sniffle. 

His already broken heart seemed to break even more at the sight of their mischievous and fun-loving little brother looking so down; so drained of happiness and hope. 

Sometimes he forgot that Alan wasn’t just Gordon’s little brother but his best friend as well. How didn’t he noticed that he wasn’t the only one that wasn’t dealing well with Alan's injury?

The self-hatred he was feeling towards himself seemed to double at that thought. 

“They’re not going to get away with this Virgil; I promise you that..” John promised, aqua blue eyes looking right at him, voice leaving no room for argument. “Jack, Colonel Casey, Penny and I are going to make sure of that..”

“I know…” He sighed, running his hand through his ungelled hair, turning to look out the window again; just being able to make out the hospital in the distance. “I’m going to have to testify, ain’t I?” 

“If you’re willing and that is what you want to do, of course, you can..” John explained with an odd, almost worried tone to his voice. “but Scott, Grandma and I were talking, and we think it’s a better idea if you don’t..” 

“What?” He turned around in astoundment. Even Gordon looked confused, looking up at John with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean, don’t testify?” His fist clenched slightly as anger started bubbling in his stomach. “If I don’t, they’ll get away-I..”

He bit his bottom lip, glancing out the window as anxiety flooded him again at the thought of those people being able to walk free. “I…I have to testify, or else they’re...they’re..”

“Virgil..” John’s voice cut through his panic, sounding incredibly sad as well as concerned.  “With how many witnesses there were, you don’t necessarily have to testify for there to be enough proof to prove them guilty..” 

“But…” He glanced back at his brothers, and the first thing that hits him is just how concerned they looked, both of them; even Gordon. They weren't even trying to hide it from him anymore. 

His fists clenched as he turned his face away from his brothers. They did think he was broken, didn’t they? Why else would they be acting like this? 

“We just don’t want to push you too far by forcing you to relive that night, Virg” John explained gently, “you have been through a lot these last couple of days after all..” 

Understatement of the year, he thought with a scoff. 

John continued, “and we don’t want to see you get hurt any more than you have been..” 

His eyebrows furrowed, the anger starting to bubble in his stomach again. He wasn’t the one that was hurt, what was John going on about?! Alan was the one that was hurt! 

Not him! He thought as he gripped the window sill tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to push his anger down. He didn’t understand why he was getting so angry at his brothers; they were worried about him because they cared.

But maybe he wasn’t really angry at them but more at himself? Because deep down, he didn’t feel like he deserved their worry; he was the one that had let their baby brother get shot after all. They should hate him...

Like he hated himself...

“That’s why we think testifying in front of all those people, including the guys responsible for this, isn’t such a good idea..” John explained, his voice filled with brotherly concern; which just seemed infuriated him more. “Especially when you don’t necessarily have too..”

Things went silent for a moment; like his brothers were waiting for him to say something, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk, he didn’t trust himself not to start shouting if he did.  

John sighed, sounding slightly disheartened “Scott wanted to be the one to talk to you about this, he thought you’ll probably take it better from him than anyone else..”

He rolled his eyes, looking out at the skyline. Of course, Scott would want to be the one to talk to him. That was typical Scott, always wanting to be the one to shoulder the burden. 

But that meant that even Scott, his best friend, though he was..was broken? He realised with a shaky gasp, a feeling of betrayal missing into the anger he was feeling. Sure John had mentioned Scott being a part of this before, but the meaning of it all was only just hitting him now...

“I’m not made of glass…” He whispered tensely as he turned to face his brothers, anger seasoning his voice like a strong chili, hot and burning. “So will you please stop acting like it?!” 

His voice had raised to a shout, like he feared it would; but right now, he didn’t care. John’s eyes hardened a touch, but they were still filled with that same concern that filled him with rage. 

Gordon flinched, brown eyes wide with startled fear and concern, “Virg, John was only saying-”

“I know what he was saying, Gordon!” He snapped at Gordon and instantly regretted it as Gordon’s eyes filled with hurt. “Gordon I-”

“Forget it..” Gordon muttered as he got up from his position on the bed, “I’m going to take a bath; closest thing I'm going to get to a swimming pool for a while..” 

The shared bathroom door slammed shut. 

“We're just trying to look out for you, Virgil..” 

Just as fast as his anger appeared, it disappeared just as fast; maybe even quicker, leaving him feeling empty and hollow once again. He turned to look at John, feeling horribly lost. 

“I..i know, I just-” Suddenly being stuck in a room with the people he had just yelled at, was too much for him to take. “I’m going for a walk, call me when you hear news…” 

Then he ran, only stopping long enough to put his boots on and grab his phone before he was out the door; not looking back. 

He was getting really good at running away it seemed...

#thunderbirds are go #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Life Changes

[spikemuth-post]

Impromptu Karaoke Night!

Piers x Reader 

Warning, Real world music included that may break immersion for some.

The streets still seemed to be bustling, despite the time of the night and the state of the weather. The rain had let up, leaving a glossy sheen on the streets of Wyndon as you and your friends sloshed through the water. Dinner was sitting on your stomach like a rock and you were almost praying that this night was going to end soon. How much longer could it go on for? Then again, the Gym leaders didn’t get time away very often and wanted to enjoy themselves. Dinner and a movie were nice, it was fun to spend time with the gym leaders but also so discouraging. They were all so close. They were joking and laughing with one another as they walked down the streets, the remaining few that weren’t in a conversation were smiling as they overheard the others. You were just an awkward puzzle piece, shoved in the center the moment you defeated Leon. Heck, they liked Leon’s presence so much that even though he was no longer champion he was invited to come along. At least you weren’t the only one in this situation. Marnie was walking to your left, her arms folded and her eyes staring at the ground. Bede was to your right, his hands in his pockets. They weren’t quite sure where they fit either, also new to this group. Luckily for Marnie, she had Piers. Piers was invited to hang out with the gym leaders, despite his retirement. He decided to use that time to try and integrate his sister into these little outings. Bede had Opal. Every so often, Opal would pass the conversational torch, giving Bede a chance to meld in and shine. You were hoping Leon would be that buffer for you but he wasn’t. If you asked him to be he would help you without a doubt but you felt too embarrassed to ask. “GUYS!” Your little group stopped dead in their tracks, Nessa stopping and blocking the sidewalk and making everyone behind her bump into each other. Piers even tripped, clinging to Raihan on the way down to keep from falling, which Milo found a little funny. “Kram’s is still open!” Nessa cheered, pointing to a neon sign that’s definitely seen better days. The Neon microphone made Piers groan and he dusted himself off. “Karaoke? Nessa, come on-” “What are you complaining about rockstar? You’d smoke all of us.” “...Did you just talk like Karaoke is a competition?” “Oh! That’s a fun idea!” Gordie grinned, “A Karaoke competition! Nice one Piers!” “I did not suggest this, Don’t credit me-” “I’m on board. It sounds like a fun thing to try.” Kabu added. “That does sound pretty fun,” Milo admitted, “Of course, Piers competing might be a little unfair-” “Piers, you have to pick a song out of your genre.” Raihan laid the rule out expecting some kind of reaction but Piers was still giving his sleepy stoic look. It seemed like this was what you were going with. Hopefully, everything would be okay.  “It sounds fun.” Marnie finally said. That was all the convincing Piers needed. He sighed, gesturing everyone to follow as he headed for the double doors. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, come on.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Piers waited outside of the circular booth as everyone piled in one after another. You kept your distance, examining the dimly lit karaoke bar and letting everyone go ahead of you. There were a few patrons in here, some whispering to each other in excitement to see the gym leaders and of course the champion.  The only light was above the bar, above the stage and the tea lights in the middle of every table. You didn’t even notice Piers looking at you. He rolled his eyes and decided to get your attention the old fashion way. “Hey champ,  You coming?”  “What?” Turning around you saw everyone was already sitting. Piers was on the end with Marnie on his other side, gesturing you to sit beside him. “Oh, Sorry.” “Oh, dear, it’s fine. Never been to a Karaoke bar before, huh?” Opal began. You were afraid to have any more gaffs, opting to shake your head instead. Marnie seemed a little worried about your standoffishness. You were an incredible pokemon trainer, you were the champion after all, but it seemed like you didn’t know how to interact with people. She could sympathize with that. “I put all our names on the list.” Nessa clapped her hands happily, glancing over at the bar cheerfully. “I can’t wait to see how badly some of you sing.” “Come on Ness, don’t call me out like that,” Raihan joked, “also put away your glasses because when I get up there they WILL break.” The table shared a laugh but you just smiled. Bede raised a brow at you, beginning to catch on to what Marnie did. Unfortunately, he voiced his thoughts. “Not having fun, Champion?” That made almost everyone turn to you. Marnie didn’t look over, shooting Bede a look you couldn’t see from your angle and Leon was looking at the song list. You opened your mouth but thankfully didn’t get a word out. “They have 6 pages of duet songs!” Leon marveled, “Raihan, You have to duet with me!” “Ha, if you want your ears to bleed off then I’d love to.” Raihan started, enthusiastic as all hell.  “After the competition, we can duet.” “Why can’t we double up for the competition?” Marnie suggested, “It’s all fun anyway.” “That’s a good idea.”Gordie complimented, “If our singing isn’t strong we can team up with someone. Hey, Milo, join me on my song.” “Why me? You think I can save your performance?” As they all continued to joke among each other you accepted the moment of reprieve. This was going to be a long stressful night.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Nessa and Opal hugged each other before they left the stage, Raihan playfully plugging his ears as they returned to the table. Opal tapped his head with her parasol, telling him lovingly to shut the hell up. You were a little more comfortable, laughing at jokes and sometimes adding to conversations. Overall, you were still a lot more reserved than everyone else. Unbeknownst to you, Marnie voiced her concerns to her brother. Piers was looking over at you through most of the night and would even pass the conversation over to you if he thought you’d be comfortable talking. He was about to do that right this minute but then he heard it. “Ladies and Gentleman, a special treat. Next to the stage is the one and only Piers!” “Shit, right now?” Piers mumbled. Raihan, Gordie and Leon were pounding on the table, encouraging him to go up. You got out of the booth to let him get up and as he passed you he got an idea. A risky idea, but it was all he had. He made his way to the stage, grabbing a songbook off an empty table and skimming through it on his way to the stage. He really should have planned this out better. When he found his song he just threw the book over his shoulder. A woman at a nearby table grabbed it and held it close to her. Hell, it wasn’t even signed, calm down lady. He punched the number in the karaoke machine before cracking his neck to the left then to the right. His friends were cheering and you were giving a pretty polite clap but that wasn’t enough for him. He was going to break that shell around you even if he had to do it by force. He picked up the microphone, speaking into it with the kind of oozing charisma you’d expect from a rockstar. “This song goes to the cutie sharing a booth with me, sittin’ right on the end.” You instinctively looked to the other end of the booth and were confused. Kabu is on the other end- “He means you, idiot.” Bede pointed out. That made Raihan give off an ugly laugh and Nessa seemed to be bursting with excitement. You, however, were just confused. Piers was always really nice to you but you didn’t think that there was any romantic reason behind that. You tried not to blush but your face was heating uncomfortably. The smooth guitar started to play and the DJ introduced the song seconds later. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Piers will be performing Treasure by Bruno Mars.” “Go, Piers!” “Shut up Raihan.” Piers quickly added into the mic, trying not to let this performance get the best of him. This seemed like a huge mistake but now we’re this far so he was doing this shit. The words on the screen appeared. Now or never.  “ Give me your, give me your, give me your attention baby,” Pier’s voice alone was alluring but that eye contact was downright manslaughter. You had to keep breaking eye contact to avoid exploding. ”You're wonderful, flawless, oh you're a sexy lady “ He pushed his chest forward as he slid his jacket off. The move made some women in the crowd go crazy and making Raihan give off a spirited woo, to which Piers promptly shot him his middle finger. You were so enamored with his stage presence that sometimes you’d just completely ignore the words he was singing. Some of them would come through, though. Girls in the bar were squealing and hell ever some of his friends at the table. Marnie pursed her lips, trying not to laugh at Pier’s attempt to get you to open up. “  Treasure, that is what you are, Honey, you're my golden star “ Just the way he’d flex his eyebrow to emphasize certain words was killing you. You wanted to put your head on the table but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. “ You know you can make my wish come true, If you let me treasure you “ “Holy shit, PIERS WORK IT!” Gordie egged him on, making Raihan and Leon crack up. Piers tried to ignore them but he was clearly laughing through his performing.   “ Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl you should be smiling, A girl like you should never look so blue.” “I didn’t even know Piers liked you like that.” Nessa breathed, “Oh this is so CUTE!” “Piers is a master at hiding what he’s thinking.” Raihan defended. “.... Still, I ALSO HAD NO IDEA.” While Ness and Raihan Marvelled on that, Bede and Leon were just rocking out to the song, bobbing along and even mouthing the words. Raihan started filming on his phone, complaining that he missed a lot of the song because he was distracted. “ I know that you don't know it, but you're fine, so fine, Oh girl, I'm gonna show you when you're mine, oh, mine .” Piers got back most of his control, continuing to sing to you. He could see by the look on your face that he was breaking you. He kind of liked it. You looked cute flustered like that. It made him smirk. He was nearing the end of the song and thought he was doing pretty well. “ You know you can make my wish come true, If you let me pleasure yo- Wait, No, TREASURE. FUCK-” “TOO LATE, YOU ALREADY SAID IT!” Gordie yelled. Piers couldn’t take it, pulling away from the microphone to laugh it off. The song just continued but everyone was just laughing and having a good time. He returned to the mic, speaking over the music. “I mean, we can do that too if you’re up for it. the night is young!” “BOO!” “SHUT UP, RAIHAN”! “Give it up for Piers, Everybody!” Despite him messing up the final line of the song, the place roared with cheers. Probably just because it was a fun karaoke night. He got a few high fives as he returned to the table. You got up to let him back into the booth, avoiding eye contact with him. Since you were looking down at the ground when he passed he got access to the top of your head, allowing him to kiss the top of your head before he sat down, making everyone at the table laugh.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

You had to leave when the bar closed. Everyone left the door laughing, complementing each other’s mad singing skills. After Piers calling you out like that on stage, you were much more open with everyone. He spent the rest of the night flirting shamelessly as well. It gave you all a lot to talk about. Upon leaving the bar Piers was oddly silent, a little smile on his face as he left the building. You were the same, hanging off to the side to wait until you could get a moment to talk to Piers alone. Sensing this, the crowd dispersed quickly. All your friends excused themselves and made separate plans to get home, either choosing to walk with each other or call a taxi. You didn’t need to do any of that though, currently staying in a hotel in Wyndon for a match you had tomorrow. That was perfect. Piers walked over to you, clearing his throat as nonchalantly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” “You don’t have to,” You mumbled. You really wanted him to but Marnie was behind him calling a taxi already. “It’s a long taxi flight to Spikemuth.” “Actually I’m gonna check in the hotel for tonight.” He looked off to the side nervously, “I’m uh... gonna be in town for your match tomorrow.” “Well... having company on the walk would be great.” He didn’t need anything more than that, linking arms with you immediately. You tried to hide your flustered face but Leon and Marnie caught it, both of them staying behind to catch a taxi. You both headed down the street towards the hotel, talking the entire way. You did have a place among these gym leaders and in Piers’s arms.

#Piers #pokemon #swsh #sword and shield #pokemon sword and shield #x reader #reader insert #fan fiction #scenarios #karaoke #nezu #imagine #imagines

[blackcatanna]

Phoenix Wright: Rise from the Ashes OPINIONS

Greetings, Tumblrinos! I have FINALLY aquired the original Ace Attorney trilogy on PC and have just finished the first game. I didn’t have any issues with the first four cases BUT I have a lot of UNANSWERED QUESTIONS about the fifth case, which was not in the original game. There were many things I loved about it (it gave me so much delicious evidence to play with) but I feel like its long, complicated plot had a few more HOLES than I like to see in a game all about finding contradictions and I have to SHOUT MY QUESTIONS/OPINIONS TO THE GREAT TUMBLR VOID so heeeeere we go! :D SPOILERS (duh)!!!

NUMBER ONE: WHY did Gant MURDER NEIL MARSHALL?!??!?

This is never addressed in the game, which I found very odd. This case is, I think, the longest in the main series and yet it ended SO SUDDENLY?!? Gant admitted how he killed Goodman to stop him reopening the case but he never gave a motive for killing poor Marshall AND SO I am left to speculate.

Of course, we know that Gant wanted to control the prosecuters and so it’s reasonable to think that he did it purely to frame Ema and thus get Lana under his thumb. However, he states that his motive for collecting evidence against Ema was simply “insurance” in case the case was examined too closely...? Is he lying? He might lie in order to distance himself from Lana and Goodman’s murder but then he goes and confesses anyway so why would he bother to do that?

Okay, so, murdering Neil worked out pretty well for Gant. He was promoted, Lana was promoted and he had leverage over Lana AND SO it looks like Gant purely wanted to frame Ema and that’s why he killed Neil. HOWEVER, this is still WEIRD AF. 

Okay, so, in order for this to be EVEN REMOTELY PLAUSIBLE, Gant would have to be on the extreme end of murderous psychopathy. To murder your colleague who’s UNCONSCIOUS is just... It’s insane behaviour. He killed Goodman because Goodman was a threat. Marshall was just... THERE. ALSO, he’s have to be a huge hypocrite! Gant says that he did everything because he hates criminals and wants to catch them, no matter what AND YET HE LIFTS UP AN UNCONSCIOUS MAN, IMPALES HIM ON A SWORD AND PATS HIMSELF ON THE BACK FOR CONVICTING DARKE?!?! AND HE SEES NO ISSUES HERE?!?! 

Furthermore, I don’t think that any of this was necessary to convict Darke. Lana seems to think so but it looks like Marshall and Gant had pretty much cracked Darke when he made a run for it. Lana wasn’t there for the interrogation. Not sure how relevant Darke is to Gant’s motivation but it’s interesting that it’s thrown into the MOTIVATION SOUP that we’re presented with.

Therefore, it appears that Gant killed Neil because he believed that it was for the greater good: by controlling both the police and the prosecutors, he would be able to ensure that those he deemed to be guilty would be punished. Fair enough. 

Okay, so, Gant and Lana are about to crack the case. Gant states that he’s already up for his dream job. If they succeed, Lana will be able to become Head Prosecutor. SO all that Gant needs is leverage over Lana. BUT SURELY, she already admires and respects him. They’ve been partners for years. They’ve cracked many cases together. They are the dream team! Pretty sure they even have a name in game like “Dynamic Duo” or something... “Legendary Duo”, thank you, Google. Presumably, Lana trusts Gant. He could give her forged evidence or omit things and she would most likely use it without ever knowing, much like Miles Edgeworth did. 

SO, if Gant hadn’t killed Neil and framed Ema/Darke, Lana would most likely still be Queen Prosecutor and would trust Gant. So, not only did he take a HUGE RISK killing Neil (MORE ON THAT LATER), he also jeopardised the valuable relationship of trust between himself and Lana, replacing it with BLACKMAIL. Perhaps, blackmail might seem like a more solid bond to someone as TWISTED as Gant BUT there are two problems with this blackmail.

FIRSTLY, there is the possibility that the person being blackmailed will SNAP. This doesn’t seem to be a huge risk with Lana. SECONDLY, this blackmail is based on LIES. It potentially becomes USELESS if someone figures out that Ema is not responsible so he’d have to believe that he’d left no traces (so I guess we can add HUBRIS to his list of character flaws). Oh, and this brings up another problem. In order to follow through on his threats to Lana, he’d have to admit that he covered up the truth in the first place! 

Okay, so I have decided that killing Neil didn’t accomplish that much of a REWARD for Gant so let’s look at the RISK. He PICKED UP an unconscious, fully grown man without disturbing the other two unconscious people in the room or Neil himself. The building was full of people for the award ceremony, presumably. To be fair, it took place in Gant’s office and so it’s unlikely that anyone else would walk in but the office had massive windows! 

Although unlikely, the possibilty of someone else witnessing Gant’s murder definitely existed. Furthermore, there was the more likely possibility of someone IN THE ROOM regaining consciousness and catching him in the act. Darke had hit his head, but Ema had merely fainted and I can’t believe that Marshall never regained consciousness while someone cut out a segment from his waistcoat, PICKED HIM UP and SKEWERED HIM ON A SPIKE. I mean, c’mon. Even if you agree that it’s possible that he didn’t get woken up by being impaled, how would Gant be so sure that this wouldn’t happen. 

The more I talk about this, the more questions I have but I MUST SAVE THEM FOR NOW. 

Okay, so Gant walks into the room, sees three unconscious people and thinks, “Gee! I could totally do a murder right now and frame one of these people, tee-hee. OMG if I make it look like Ema did it, Lana will TOTALLY have to do what I say, like, for EVER.” So, Gant does a murder and tries to cover it up but leaves A FRIGGIN’ HUGE OBVIOUS TRAIL BEHIND HIM THAT ANY IDIOT COULD SPOT, HOLY COW. IN FACT, WE’RE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THAT NOW. 

WHY DID NOBODY QUESTION THAT THERE WAS A SQUARE CUT OUT OF MARSHALL’S WAISTCOAT??! THIS IS SO OBVIOSLY HIDING EVIDENCE!!! LANA EVEN HAD A PHOTO OF HIM WITH THE SQUARE MISSING AND A PHOTO OF HIM TAKEN MINUTES BEFORE WITH AN INTACT WAISTCOAT!!! NOBODY THOUGHT TO POINT THIS OUT?!?!?

WHY THE FLYING FUCK WOULD MARSHALL WRITE EMA’S NAME ON THE WOBBLY VASE?!?! This particular piece of evidence didn’t come to light until the current trial but it’s just so stupid! Obviously, Ema didn’t try to kill Marshall. It was an accident. Why would Marshall think, “I must not let this demon child get away with this heinous crime!” and use his last strength to do this nonsense. Furthermore, HE WAS IMPALED ON A SWORD. HE COULDN’T HAVE REACHED THE VASE. HE WAS TOTALLY SKEWERED. 

Speaking of that ugly-ass vase, did none of this top notch investigation team try and piece it together? Presumably, they did. That would bring up the question of the missing piece. Gant, you idiot! No wonder all of the investigators were suspicious. 

I guess that Gant thought he was untouchable and could just shut anything down with his authority but he made such a mess of everything that he was caught out by many people and eventually had to resort to  the ol’ Stabby Stabby just to shut people up. Gant’s supposed to be this brilliant person but he just comes across as an idiot with a TERRIBLE personality. I feel like a lot of Ace Attorney villains slip up because they’re in positions of power and think that they’re untouchable but I think that this is the stupidest one I’ve encountered so far. 

Okay, so, ASTONISHINGLY, Gant’s plan works. He gets away with THE MURDER and now it’s time for some sweet, sweet blackmail... He tells Lana that Ema will be convicted of murder if the truth gets out. Wait, WHAT??!?! HOW!? IN WHAT UNIVERSE COULD EMA BE SEEN TO BE GUILTY OF MURDER. Manslaughter, perhaps but she was acting in self defense! She pushed a guy wielding a knife. I DO NOT BUY THIS AT ALL. It seems likely to me that Lana would still co-operate because she was afraid of letting Ema know that she was responsible for Neil’s death but that seems to me to be the extent of the hold he has over Lana. Lana claims to have sold her soul for this. Does she believe that it’s worth it to spare her sister from the truth? Perhaps.

SO, IN SUMMARY, in order for this to be any kind of plausible, Gant has to be EXTREMELY SOCIOPATHIC, HUBRISTIC, HYPOCRITICAL and brimming with, my favourite, UNFATHOMABLE STUPIDITY! The UNFATHOMABLE STUPIDITY is what I have the biggest problem with. He is supposed to be SMART and CAPABLE. So are the rest of the team assigned to the serial killer case. I just, ugh... It doesn’t make sense... 

NUMBER 2 (finally): WHERE’S THE BLOOD, BITCH?

Why is there so much blood by Lana’s desk in Gant’s office? Neil died on the other side of the room AND YET there is no trace of blood to be found there! I sprayed the HECK out of that suit of armour and there was NOTHING. If Neil was skewered there, he would, PRESUMABLY have bled A LOT. Also when they UN-SKEWERED HIM. In fact, we know that he was coughing up LOADS OF BLOOD while he was skewered, thanks to Lana’s photo. SO, WHY. IS. THERE. NO. BLOOD. THERE. Presumably, Gant had the office thoroughly cleaned in the TWO YEARS since the incident but, then, why can I still see blood in Lana’s half? And surely there would have been blood traces there two years ago when this, ALLEGEDLY, UBER-COMPETANT TEAM investigated? 

Number 3: WHY THE EVERLOVING FLYING FUCK did the police decide that Goodman had been MURDERED in the evidence room?!??!

What did the police find to lead them to believe that a murder had been committed?!? They had a video showing someone dressed like Goodman entering the evidence room, followed by that annoying af megaphone guy, who got beaten up, cut on the hand and knocked unconscious. THAT’S NOT A MURDER. NOBODY DIED. THERE WAS NOTHING TO INDICATE THAT A MURDER HAD TAKEN PLACE! WHY WOULD THEY REPORT IT AS A MURDER, LET ALONE GOODMAN’S MURDER!!?!? THIS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE!?! 

Furthermore, WHY WOULD THEY HAVE MEEKUMS DELIVER THE REPORT TO EDGEY BOY WHEN HE WAS THE ONE THEY SOMEHOW DECIDED WAS THE MURDERER?!?!? At the time, I thought that Gant sent Meekums or whatever his name was (cba to look it up because he was SO ANNOYING) because he knew that Edgeworth would ignore him because he was so annoying and he’d be able to make Edgeworth look bad in court later. But, seriously, what was even in that file? There was no murder!!! If Gant was trying to throw us off, why would he draw our attention to the evidence room and the two-year-old case?!? Whyyyyyyyy!?!?

Tbh, I have no explanation for any of this. IT DOES. NOT. COMPUTE. 

THING THE FOURTH: Why was Lana’s hand not bleeding in Angel’s photo?

Lana says that she cut her hand because she was shaking while stabbing Goodman’s corpse. YET, Angel’s photo VERY CLEARLY shows her without any injury. Angel ran down to the car park because she saw Lana stabbing Goodman. Therefore, by the time Angel took the photo, Lana must have already stabbed the guy. Also, Angel states that she saw Lana stab Goodman repeatedly and that she was wearing a muffler. So, the stabbity stabbity must have happened before the photo was taken. 

Question the Fifth: Who the Hell calls an exhaust pipe a “muffler”?!?!

Well, I just googled it and it’s something that reduces noise coming from the exhaust pipe. Yay learning!

Question the Sixth: Why did the cameras not catch Gant giving Goodman the old stabby stabby? 

Presumably, Gant erased the footage immediately after exiting the room but this was never addressed, for some reason. I guess it was already a long af case but I like details, dammit!

7: How did Gant clean up so quickly?!?

Bruce Goodman died of bloodloss. That’s A LOT of blood to clean up! He summoned Edgeworth to the room to collect the screwdriver only 20 minutes after he himself first entered the evidence room with Goodman. In those twenty minutes, he must have had the fight with Goodman, waited for him to stop bleeding, moved the body, stuffed it into Edgeworth’s trunk, found cleaning products, mopped up ALL THE BLOOD from a guy who DIED OF BLOODLOSS, hiden whatever it was that soaked up the blood (slorp), erased the video footage and somehow not got ANY BLOOD on himself and WASN’T SEEN by ANYONE stuffing a body into a car ON THE DAY OF DATA TRANSFERENCE!?!? HOW?!

8: Seriously, how many identical white detective coats are there?!?!

Marshall wears one to impersonate Goodman, Goodman is wearing one when he is MURDERED, Lana is wearing one in Angel’s photo and, weirdly, it has a bloodstain on it in the same place that Marshall’s one does. However, we can still see Marshall’s costume coat sticking out of his locker. WEIRD. 

SO YEAH

This concludes my list of puzzling things in this episode! There are probably more random things that I’ve forgotten but, in that case, they can’t be bugging me too much. What really IRKS me is the question of the “murder” in the evidence room and how UNFATHOMABLY STUPID everyone, especially Gant was 2 years ago. These two things just make the episode feel a bit incomplete to me. I admire the ambition of this episode but I feel like some things slipped through the cracks and left my brain aching for the wrong reasons.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #rise from the ashes #damon gant #lana skye #unfathomable stupidity #rambling #raving #neil marshall #spoilers