#yeah both the break room and the processing room are works in progress

[victorluvsalice]

And, with everything in pocket, they finally arrived at the store -- where I promptly had them stand outside in the rain for a while while I dumped a bunch of their money into the place and spent a good chunk of time doing a bit of remodeling! Namely -- remember how, in a previous update, I complained about not having enough processing space, but didn't want to make the store significantly bigger? And then remembered in the tags that basements exist?

Welcome to the new Van Liddelton Groceries employee break room and basement processing center! XD Yes, I decided that the best way to get more space for everything I wanted was to go down and expand THERE. So the previous processing room was turned into a chill out area for the trio and any future employees they may have (complete with fridge and microwave for meals, some seating, a bookcase for those who like to read, and a TV for those who like to watch -- it still feels a little unfinished and empty to me, but I'll figure it out as we go along), and all the processing stuff was moved into the basement area! Now they have a nice long kitchen with plenty of counter space and TWO fridges and stoves to play with; two bulk processing machines; the juice fizzer and the cupcake machine; a cauldron for Victor should he want to to make potions while on the lot (once he actually learns a few more recipes); and -- well. I know it looks like a science bench. . .

But it's actually an APOTHECARY bench. Because that's one of the mods I downloaded from @simsonianlibrary -- The Apothecary Kit! This mod allows a Sim to make gummies based on herbalism recipes, and tablets based on Scientist serums -- you need roughly twice the amount of ingredients, but you get six gummies per bag and six tablets per bottle, so, kind of a deal? I spotted this while perusing their Patreon for a different mod (which I will get to in just a moment), and was like "okay, that'll be PERFECT for Smiler -- I was originally gonna make them a Scientist anyway to learn those serum recipes!" So now the store can have a pharmacy section too! :D

However, first things first -- we still had room on those front shelves for flower arrangements! So Smiler started making one final one of those while I sent Victor and Alice downstairs to do a little more processing and clean up any spoiled food hanging about. Alice made a few boxes of tomato sauce, then started working on milk products while Victor filled up the juice fizzer with some lemons --

And then started making some deodorizing perfume! For THAT is the mod that I originally went to Simsonian's Patreon to download -- Perfumery! Because it's another good use of all the flowers the gang grows. This mod adds a ten-level "perfumery" skill that allows you to eventually create a variety of perfumes with different effects -- mostly triggering different emotional buffs. And since they're scents, they effect not only the Sim wearing them, but any Sims who smell them (to a lesser degree. . .and, naturally, this doesn't work with the deodorant. Unfortunately. :p). I thought it might be fun to have my Sims get into, so Victor brewed up a batch of deodorant from a bunch of snowdrops and brought it upstairs...

Where I ran into a rather weird problem. Namely, the perfume just will NOT go onto the SrslySims consignment shelves I'm using in my store. Or, rather, it won't go DIRECTLY on them -- but it WILL stack onto items that are already ON the shelves (like a box of sauce, or a bag of flour). Which is -- puzzling, to say the least. It WILL go onto other custom content shelves, so I'm not sure what's going on with Srsly's. I think mayhaps I may have to make a custom display for any future perfumes! O.o

For the moment, though, the perfume went on the front counter (along with one of the spare decorative eggs from Easter -- look, all the ones in the store are duplicates, I may as well sell them), and while Smiler finished up their flower arrangement, I started Victor on another important task -- namely, seeing what in the store could be hit with Copypasto! I already know the bulk food items can't be copied, but what about animal treats? Herbalism potions? Smiler's baby robot toys? Science must know!

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #yeah both the break room and the processing room are works in progress #I may rearrange the break room and update the wallpaper and such in future #and the processing room may be broken up into multiple processing rooms #like one focusing on cooking #one focusing on drinks #another on herbalism and alchemy #we'll see how things go! #but this will do for now :) #and yes two new making things mods! :D #SimsonianLibrary seriously has some very cool stuff #like new custom spells that I really want to try out (after the next patch!) #and all sorts of expansions to archeology #and they're working on other great stuff too #like wild bug farms! and their own version of nectar-making! #I still wish I knew what was going on with the perfume bottle though #like what kind of weird slotting hell is this that it won't go on the shelf #but it'll go on TOP of something on the shelf O.o #baffles the mind #still if I must build a perfume display I will #actually the whole layout is probably gonna get changed up a bit #as a future post will elaborate on #queued

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap 4 progress

Now with 200% more bat!

masterpost

“Alright, have a good day.” Tim handed the clipboard back to a stone-faced delivery guy and took the package from Miss Fox back to his technology lair. He got a glass of water on the way down and then went about reproducing the experiment that Tam asked for.

She wouldn't give him details. But from the instructions and reported results, Tim was pretty sure that some employee had misrepresented their process. To what end, he didn't know. He was just the science guy, not a detective guy.

Although if he had to guess he'd say that they had switched out a needed chemical to hide that the supply was lower than recorded.

But whatever. That wasn't his business.

Tim happily went about science, recreating a corrosive liquid that would supposedly eat through reinforced metal. He had to make the Wayne tech protective coating for the metal as well to do the experiment properly. When he finished that he carefully dipped metal sheets in it and set them to drip dry. Then he turned back to the acid project.

Supposedly, the acid had been a failure. Tim thought it should work. Apparently Tam did, too.

The screens around the room all went black. He wasn't even using them but it was a hard thing to miss in your peripheral vision.

Tim groaned. “What now?” He asked the room. He clanged a piece of metal to the tabletop. “I am trying to finish this.”

Had he tripped some kind of security protection? Maybe they had all gone to sleep without getting a password at spaced intervals?

To be perfectly clear, Tim did not expect any kind of response.

Therefore he was startled halfway out of his skin when a female laugh came barrelling out of the speakers of the largest mounted screen.

He crossed his arms in a sulk.

“Tim?” She asked, after she caught her breath. “You're tiny.”

His face was catastrophically cranky: he could see it reflected back in the black screen. It was a perfect replica of Janet Drake discovering after she had formatted her latest paper in Chicago Style that the publication required the savagery of MLA formatting.

She laughed again. It ended with a hiccup.

‘Whoever this is, she can see me. She must be someone who knows me if I gave her that kind of access.’

“I'm not sure we're friends,” Tim announced, because it was time to face the facts: these people all knew a version of him, and that Tim was bigger. At least like, three inches. “I'm aware that I am small. I am working on it.” He glowered at the computer she seemed to be using.

It would take what, two years top for a major growth spurt? They could just chew bubblegum until then.

“Is that what you're doing now?”

Tim sighed. “No, I'm doing something for Tam,” he admitted. He scrubbed at his face with a hand. “Probably a good time for a break.” He started to tidy up.

“Yeah, so, I guess I can tell Dick that you haven't been kidnapped by lions or whatever it is he's talking about,” the lady said. The line turned to static for a second, then back just as quickly. “You, uh, need some help?”

“Absolutely not.” Tim shook his head in a sharp, decisive Jack Drake movement. “I don't need to be babied.”

“...I can see why you think you're in danger of it.” She snorted again. “Unblock Dick, please, he's got delicate feelings and I think we both have plans for tonight that don't involve him scaling your walls to find a way in.”

“....I'll unblock him,” Tim took the L gracefully. “I appreciate your silence on this matter.”

She snorted again. “Sorry.” She didn't sound very sorry. “It's just- your little businessman voice is so funny. I'm sorry, Tim.”

He looked up at the ceiling for patience.

“Oracle out.”

All the screens returned to normal. Tim let out a big long sigh and went back upstairs, taking his empty water class with him. At least he had a name, right? Oracle. He'd gotten a call from Oracle.

He mentally arranged the facts as he trudged up the stairs.

Fact one: he had replaced a Tim, who was Tim Drake-Wayne. (Upsetting information).

Drake-Wayne had to be fundamentally the same Tim as he was, given that both Tam and Oracle had immediately recognized him.

Fact two: Tim D-W was a vigilante.

Fact three: That was really cool.

Tim reached the top and made a mental note to enroll in some martial arts classes when he got back home. If he had potential to fight crime, of course he was going to do that. He unblocked Dick: oh no, Dick Wayne. He'd blocked Robin. He felt mortified. It was so obvious in retrospect. He put the phone down on the table, stomach twisting in social agony.

The phone immediately lit up with messages.

Well. Robin should be less annoying, if he didn't wanna get blocked.

He clambered onto the counter to search through for anything that would make a good lunch.

“... I'm terrible,” Tim complained. He stuck his head fully into the cupboard as if there might be something good at the back. “This sucks!”

Alright. Something had to be done. Tim decisively climbed down, using an open drawer as a step. He shut it with his heels and then went in search of a wallet. He needed a credit card and to find a delivery service.

He was going to act on faith that big Tim D-W wasn't going to ruin his life, even though he was a loser. Tim was doing a great job keeping Tim D-W’s life afloat. That merited some payment.

He converted that payment into a huge order to a grocery delivery service. He referenced Tam’s package to get the address.

The order was simple: fruits, breakfast meat, lots of bakery bread, and sandwich fillings. He was going to have tuna salad with cucumber and lettuce. He was going to learn to make egg salad. Optimistically, he even added melty cheese to the order and a can of tomato soup mix: grilled cheese couldn't be that hard, right?

He rounded off the order with lots of individually packaged drinks: milk and juice boxes, cans of grape Zesti, and hot cocoa powder.

"…This is so exciting,” Tim said to his empty apartment. His. In a very real and meaningful way, it was his apartment. He was totally unsupervised. Neat!

The phone buzzed again. When he picked it up it said “Jason.”

Tim blue screened. Tim dropped the credit card with a clatter. It disappeared under the table and he didn't even think to look for it.

Jason. Omigod, Jason. Jason was a person who existed. He'd forgotten.

All the pieces came together in a beautiful flash of light. He wasn't in a troubled huge age-difference relationship with Bruce (21 year difference) or Dick (9 year difference) . He'd gotten married to Jason Wayne, the kid that Bruce had brought home like a day ago according to the Gotham Gazette. (3 year difference: normal.)

The phone was still ringing. Tim picked it up with numb fingers. “Hello?”

“Hey, Timbers,” said a male voice. It was low, rough, and impatient. “You freaked Dickiebird out and he's been squawking at me all day. Tell me how many pieces you're in.”

Tim looked down at his body. “Just the one,” he said, voice coming out breathy. It felt like his being was floating outside his body. Wow. This was his boy- no, husband? Holy moly. He couldn't cope with that, he had to stick with boyfriend. He bit his lip. He had to make a good impression.

“...You sound about 10 years old there,” Jason said. He didn't hide his amusement. “You been huffing helium, babybird?”

Tim went bright red at the pet name. Painfully red. His face was on fire.

Jason took his silence as a response. “Alright, alright, keep your clothes on. You must be sick as fuck, poor thing. No wonder you didn't come out to play last night.”

Tim slapped his hands on his face and tried not to hyperventilate.

“I wasn't calling for Dick, don't get it twisted.” Jason cleared his throat, tone a little odd. “I picked up on something - I think one of my ongoing cases dips into your patrol area. You gonna come out on patrol tonight?”

“...No,” Tim said. There was no way that would go well. He didn't know martial arts yet.

Jason cursed, but he didn't sound mad about it. “Fair enough,” he muttered. “Uh, think you could do some surveillance for me?”

Tim nodded. Then he felt dumb and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

…He felt even dumber. What should he say? This was his boyfriend. The stakes were so high. He had never wanted anyone to like him more.

Jason rattled off an address. It, like everything Jason had said, was going to live inside Tim’s head forever in perfect clarity. “Thanks,” he added after, a bit begrudgingly. “This guy's real fucking sick, been making human sausage.”

Tim… wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded really bad. “I'll do my best,” he promised.

“Yeah…” Jason trailed off. “Maybe you should take a nap, some meds. That's a terrible hoarse throat. Don't kick your own ass on my account, okay?”

“Okay,” Tim helplessly echoed, and hung up. He sat in silence for a solid minute afterwards.

#red nest swap #dc fanfic #tim drake deaged #tim drake

[hanasnx]

Omg what is starlet reader was ewans daughter and Hayden used to babysit her when she was a kid

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: i rly liked this concept :) feel free to ask me about it more! i think this was a good broad start to it WARNINGS: dead dove do not eat | age gap | dark content proceed with caution | there is absolutely no predatory acts mentioned, but because the situation is inherently predatory i'm tagging it | sexual content at the end | implied smut | no y/n

! ── "Yeah, no problem. We'll stay on site at my trailer, order a pizza. How hard could it be?" HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN assures Ewan, who frowns at him in response, clearly amused. "Alright, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." he pats Hayden on the back as he exits, and when he gestures to you, he tells you a simple "Be good." Your complexion flushes when Hayden lays eyes on you. "You ready?"

! ── "I don't need a babysitter." you tell him as he picks up a slice of pizza from the box, the strings of cheese stretching thin until they break. You have a raging, hormonal and proximity induced crush on your dad's co-star. Not to mention he's a total babe, and so kind. Desperately, you want him to see you as independent, as cooler than you are. You think he's so grown up even though he's barely older than a legal adult. "Sure you don't. We're hanging out." he replies so easily that you almost believe him, even though he's only saying it to make you feel better.

! ── You've always been so standoffish with him. You found any excuse to be around him, but you'd jade yourself out of fear he'd find out your embarrassing feels for him. Often you'd fantasize about him confessing his love to you— but had no idea how problematic that'd be if he did. Now, you're inside his trailer, alone with him, and he's coaxing you out of your shell by making you play one of his video games. It smells like a boy's room in here. "Ugh! I'm no good at this!" you cry, throwing your hands down into your lap. Frustrated over your lack of progress, you've been going around in circles in this mission for what felt like hours. It exacerbated your already heightened stress levels around him. Would he think less of you for not doing well? "Wait a second, hold on," His voice is surprisingly soothing, muffled by the pizza crust stuck in between his molars like a cigar. You don't realize it's because he's resisting the urge to leave you here when he steps outside to smoke. He promised he'd keep an eye on you, so that's what he's doing. Besides, he doesn't wanna be a bad influence on you. He reaches over, and you relinquish the controller to him, his hand grazing yours in the process. "Let's see here..." Instead of paying attention to the screen, you stare at where the point of contact was. "There, see? You had it." he tells you, handing you back the controller after he'd gotten you past your obstacle.

! ── It would be several years before you'd see Hayden again, but you didn't forget him or his extraordinary kindness. He had a way with words, a way of making you feel heard and important. That doesn't change at all— he hasn't changed at all. Besides the way he looks at you now that you're all grown up, established in the world as your own person. Ewan thinks to reintroduce you to Hayden, but he didn't forget your name. Exclaiming it even as he pulls you into a polite embrace, relaying to you he hardly recognized you, that you look great, etc. Just like that, your raging crush is back. Like it never left.

! ── It picks at you until you act on it, until you confess to Hayden you've always had a thing for him. You're both older now, which means you're not so ashamed of yourself, but can look back on it as normal childhood feelings. You're thankful your fantasies were never answered until now. "A crush? On me?" he asks in entertained disbelief, gesturing to himself. "Yes! Obviously," you insist, "You were always so nice to me. Watching out for me when my dad was working later than he thought. How could I not? C'mon," "I'm not judging you," he assures, and he shrugs, "I just... didn't know is all." It's apparent he doesn't know what to do with this information. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" "Yes and no." "Why?" He meets your eyes. There's a tentativeness to his countenance, a debate behind his gaze over whether or not he should say his next words, if they're appropriate, if they'll be received well. "Because I've got a crush on you now."

! ── Going through your normal stages of adolescence, experiencing the journey of discovering your sexuality, exploring it as an adult with your own autonomy— there was always that inkling in the back of your mind reminding you of your lingering childhood crush on Hayden Christensen. How you've never felt anything for anyone as intensely as you did for him. Those buried feelings manifest when you finally allow them to roam, sweeping you up and away. He'd invited you to his trailer to catch up, and you end up on top of him.

#indy: headcanons #ch: hayden #hayden christensen headcanons #tw age gap #starlet!reader #indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!! #anon #hayden christensen prompt #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x fem reader #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fanfiction #tw predatory behavior #tw dark content #dead dove do not eat #reader insert

[adiduck]

WIP Game - Ice Gets Divorced Snippet

Okayyyyy next up we have Ice Gets Divorced. Snippet of my progress on this one is below. Warning for alcohol: Ice is, what's the word? Ah, right. Wasted.

He lets his mind wander a bit—sliding along all the work he hasn’t done today, as he sat in a room with two lawyers and Sarah and attempted to separate their lives after over a decade of marriage. The lawyers keep saying they’re moving quickly, that it’s so nice to see such an amicable divorce, that actually things are going really smoothly, but all Ice feels is tired and heartsick. Sarah didn’t look much better today. It’s tax season, so she’s got to be run off her feet. Ice doesn’t know if it’s his place to ask about that anymore, offer to help. And he’s back to the divorce. He sighs, and takes another swig of vodka. He wonders what Mav’s doing tonight. Mav’s been a rock—for them both, Ice thinks, though he can’t confirm that. He showed up at Ice’s hotel that first night with a case of beer and dinner, made sure Ice wasn’t alone as he tried to process what the fuck just happened. He’s watched the kids during after work meetings with the attorneys, sent Ice more than a few house listings that Ice hasn’t had time to look at, and has definitely been playing ball with his COs more than normal. Probably to give Ice a break. Ice smiles to himself, reluctantly fond. He hasn’t seen Mav in days, really. He hasn’t seen anyone but his staff and the lawyers and… well, today, Sarah. Ice grits his teeth through the sudden wave of loneliness, the silence of the room looming up and around him, threatening to choke him. Suddenly, sickeningly, he feels like he might be the only person left in the world. Abruptly, if he doesn’t talk to a person in the next minute, he is very aware that he is going to scream. He doesn’t quite register the decision to pick up the hotel phone and dial a number until the phone is already ringing in his hands. “‘Lo,” says a warm, familiar tenor, groggy with sleep. “Is someone fuckin’ dying?” “Mav,” Ice says, and sort of slumps into the arm of the couch, ridiculously relieved for no goddamn reason at all. “Mav, this hotel is fucking depressing as shit.” “...Ice?” Mav asks, sounding incredulous. “Yeah,” Ice says, because who the fuck else could it be. “Are you drunk?” Ice thinks about it. “Yes,” he decides.

#Ice Gets Divorced #icemav #adi is a writer #wip game #wip snippet #alcohol

[dangowon]

title » to your rescue ♡

synopsis » trying to build a desk on your own was definitely not the brightest idea you've had, but thankfully your boyfriend was there to help you and save you from losing your sanity.

pairing » park jongseong x gn!reader

requested? » no

genre » fluff, slice of life

word count » 0.7k

a/n » honestly,, this is lowkey bad but i had a sudden rush of inspiration. this is dedicated to @zzzseung <3 ily mwah

perhaps you overestimated yourself when you decided to assemble a desk on your own, 'how difficult could it be after all?' you had thought. you cursed your past self for misjudging the amount of effort that needed to be put into this, having even declined your boyfriend's offer to help since you thought it was going to be that easy.

your face scrunched up in distaste as you reread the instructions for the nth time, trying your hardest to make sense of the writing on the paper. you sighed, closing your eyes as you realised that you had been doing this for 2 whole hours and you hadn't even made significant progress.

you stared at the mess of screws and wood parts around you; you started to ponder whether a desk was really needed at this point. just as you were about to give up and call it a day, you were interrupted by the sound of your door opening and you were more than relieved to see that it was jay.

"i told you to let me know if you needed help," he said as his eyes scanned the messy room with you lying on the cold floor. "..i didn't think i would need any," you replied, watching as he walked in and sat down beside you, taking a look at the very product manual which had made you want to rip your hair out.

he seemed to understand whatever was written on that godforsaken page much better than you did, humming as he quickly discerned the building process. he gently cradled your face in his free hand, causing you to instinctively lean into his warm touch as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

"i'll handle it, yeah? leave it to me, my love," he spoke into your ear as he gathered the different tools that were sprawled out on the parquetry of your room, before starting to piece together different parts of the desk. you entertained yourself with watching him (and his muscles) at work, having switched to lying on your bed as your eyes remained glued to your boyfriend's figure.

in just under an hour, jay was done with the task of constructing the piece of furniture — this proved to you that you should've asked him for his help in the first place instead of spending two incredibly unfruitful hours on attempting to do a mere fraction of what he had done.

he showed off his work with a proud smile, making you break out into a smile of your own at his cute antics as you beckoned him over to where you were. you sat up on your bed, looping your arms around his neck as you connected your lips with his in a loving kiss.

he sighed contently, his hands automatically finding their way to your waist and pulling you closer to him until you could hear his heartbeat syncing up with your own. he pulled away, looking at you with such unwavering affection in his eyes that it caused you to redden slightly.

in an attempt to save your pride, you tugged on his arm, signalling him to lay down beside you on your bed. he immediately did as you asked, letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck and press a kiss to his heart-shaped birthmark. your right hand made its way to his soft locks, soothingly massaging his scalp as you spoke, "thank you for being so willing to help me all the time, 'seong."

once again kissing the crown of your head, he whispered "no need to thank me, baby," with a smile that was almost too obvious to miss even if his face was out of view. you both lied in each other's embrace, the room enveloped with a familiar, comfortable silence until you felt jay's breathing even out.

it was typical of him to fall asleep so easily, but it never became less endearing to you when he subconsciously tightened his hold around your frame even while he was dozing off. you closed your eyes shortly after, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to take a nap; after all, he most definitely deserved rest for all the work that he did.

kissing his neck one last time for good measure, you fell into a peaceful slumber alongside him, and you couldn't have asked for anything better.

#✧ yun writes #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen fics #enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen jay x reader #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #park jongseong x reader #jay scenarios #jay drabbles #jay fics

[plagues02]

Party of Five

Summary: Laios and a lone tall man defeat a monster together, and the party offer to share a meal with him. Characters: Wash(Oc), Laios Touden, Marcille Donato, Chilchuck Tims, Senshi Word Count: 1183

“How much further are we going to walk today?” Marcille whined, leaning against her staff.

The deeper they got into the dungeon, the longer the days seemed, the more monsters they faced and ate. Today felt especially long after a chance encounter with a hoard of scorpions, followed by a swarm of treasure insects.

Senshi looked back at her, “There’s an opening we can camp at close.”

Close meant another twenty minute walk. By the time Senshi mentioned they were almost there, everyone was hungry and tired of this day. Even Laios wasn’t as parky as he usually was.

Turning the corner, they were startled to see a battle in progress. An armored tallman jumped back, getting out of the way of the snake side of a basilisk, followed by a swing of his blade. The basilisk hissed, snapping at him again.

The shock disappeared fast as Laios pulled his own sword out, joining the battle. The other tallman saw him out of the corner of his eyes, changing his battle plans. Laios went right so the man went left. Without words, the two knew what the other was doing, and when there was an opening, they attacked both sides, ending the monster.

With the battle over, the party got a better look at the newcomer. He was short for a male tallman and very rough looking. Long blonde hair, pulled back out of his face, but his face was still covered with a beard. His tired blue eyes were framed in glasses. The man looked at them.

“Are you okay?” Laios is the first to speak.

The man hesitated before nodding. “Yes,, thank you. These guys are hard to face alone,” he replied sheathed his sword.

The fellow tall man chuckled, “Yeah, well, where’s your team? They must be worried about you right now.”

The silence that followed spoke volumes.

“Whaaaat? You came this far alone?!” Marcille exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing this far alone?!”

The man rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look at her. “I was, um, well, trying to go deeper. Last I heard from my siblings, they were somewhere in the dungeon, and um, I’m looking for them.”

“Alone?! Are you crazy?!”

“Woah, Marcille, calm down,” the half foot turned to face her, despite sharing her opinion on the matter. “I think you’re scaring him.”

A clap from the dwarf caught their attention. They turned to look at the man as he walked towards the dead monster. “You helped kill this basilisk, care to join us for a meal?”

The tallman opened and closed his mother, not finding the right words. He turned to the others while pointing at the monster with a raised eyebrow; their nods confirmed his thoughts. He took a moment to process before his thoughts were cut off by the growl of his stomach.

“You know what? I have nothing to lose.”

The tall man helped with cooking by chopping a few vegetables the party had leftover while Senshi got the water ready for soup. Laiios was busy preparing the meat, and Marcille and Chilchuck worked on setting up their camp. It was quiet as they worked before the newcomer suddenly jolted up, causing all eyes on him.

“Oh! I never introduced myself,” he realized. “I’m Wash.”

“Marcille,” the elf said. “I can’t believe a child like you would come in here without anyone.”

“I’m 36-”

“Give it a break, Marcille,” the half foot said. “We all agree he’s dumb for that.” He turned to the tallman. “I’m Chilchuck.”

“Senshi, it means seeker in dwarvish,” the dwarf replied, taking the vegetables to add them to the broth.

The tall man turned to the other tallman, who was staring at him. The two stared at each other for a while; Wash glanced around at the others who were also confused by the silence. Until finally,

“I know you.”

“Huh?”

“Oh! I’m Laios, do you remember me?!” His demeanor changed to excitement.

The room fell to silence minus the sound of Senshi’s cooking; the small of the basilisk soup filled their nostrils and made their mouths water. Their stomachs also began to growl. Wash started to feel awkward with the eyes of Laios on him before it finally clicked.

“Oh wait, you were stationed under me,” Wash said. “Right?”

“Stationed under you?” Chilchuck questioned.

The older tall man smiled a little, eyes softening. “Back in the army. I was a general, up until recently. Laios was a soldier under me. Surprised that you recognized me, kid.”

“So am I.” “Yeah” Marcile and Chilchuck whisper to each other.

Laios laughed. “Almost didn’t! You…” his voice trailed off, but Wash knew what he was going to say. His appearance wasn’t as well kept as he once was.

“Dinner’s ready!” Senshi cut into their conversation.

“Have you really not eaten in almost two days?” Marcile asked with wide eyes, staring at the tall man who was on his third bowl of soup.

“Yup.”

“You need to eat properly in a dungeon! Bad things happen when you go around hungry!” Senshi exclaimed; the look on the others’ faces showed they knew this well.

“Yeah, how have you survived this long on your own?” Chilchuck stared in shock.

Wash rubbed the back of his neck, placing the bowl on the ground. “Well, I guess I just did. When I got to the Island, my mind was and still is just on the dungeon and finding my siblings; it took forever to just get to the dungeon.”

“Are you sure your siblings are here?” Laios asked.

The older one nodded. “Allison sent me a letter, telling me she found Leo, and that they were hiding in a lower level. I,, I have to find them; it’s hard to explain.”

Laid rubbed his chin in thought as he nodded. Wash went back to the soup; it felt like no matter how much he ate, he was still hungry. Curse his stupid body and oversized stomach.

“Come with us.”

“Huh?/What?” The elf and half foot turned to look at Laios with wide eyes as Wash looked up at him mid bite.

“Think about it, we’re going deeper, he needs to go deeper, and he’ll be an extra fighter,” Laios explained his reasoning.

Wash placed the spoon down in his bowl. “And why are you going deeper?”

The group fell silent for a few seconds before Laios spoke again, “Do you remember Fali? My sister I used to talk about? She was eaten by a dragon; we need to get to her before she’s digested.”

The older man stirred the soup, thinking about it. “,, I suppose this would benefit us all, but only if everyone agrees, I’ll tag along. If anyone doesn’t want me to, I won’t.”

Laios looked at the rest of the team with begging eyes. Any disagreement fell on deaf ears, and before they knew it, the party of four became a party of five.

#wash fic #oc: wash #laios #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #dunmeshi laios #marcille donato #marcille dungeon meshi #marcille dunmeshi #chilchuck #chilchuk tims #chilchuck dungeon meshi #chilchuck dunmeshi #senshi #senshi dungeon meshi #senshi dunmeshi #dungeon meshi oc #dunmeshi oc #oc #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi

[chaotic-super]

Live With Me - Chapter 18

Read it on AO3 here!

“I don’t think that’s going to work.” Cat huffs, watching as Kara fruitlessly squirms in her seat in an attempt at getting out of the too-tight cuffs as she strains against the zip ties holding her legs against the chair.

Kara sags in defeat. “There has to be a way out for us. We both know what will happen if we don’t, and frankly, I don’t want to see the inside of a coffin any time soon.”

“Obviously I don’t want that either but tiring yourself out in a futile attempt to break free from that chair isn’t going to help us, is it?” Cat peers over at her, exasperation clouding her features. “We might have to fight and scream and cause a ruckus at some point. We can’t do that if you’re in need of a nap because you’ve already been fighting some handcuffs for hours beforehand.”

Kara sighs as she tries to stretch out her wrists. A quick wiggle of her fingers tells her that the cuffs are definitely cutting off her circulation somewhat. Her fingertips are slightly numb and that’s pretty worrying. “I wish they hadn’t put these cuffs on so tightly. Can prolonged blood loss to a limb cause permanent damage?”

“Do I look like a doctor to you?”

Kara meets Cat’s eyes. Her words might be harsh but her worry is palpable. “Point taken. Do you have any ideas on how we could get out of here?”

The resounding shake of her head has Kara sighing a second time, and she indignantly throws her weight back into the chair to show her displeasure at the entire situation. As she does, a faint crack can be heard.

“Was that…?” Cat barely dares utter the words.

“I think I just broke the chair.” Kara’s mouth hangs open as she looks over at Cat wide-eyed.

Cat shakes off her initial surprise quickly. “Don’t just sit there then. Break the thing. If you can break it, you might be able to get up, and if you can get up, getting out of here will be a hundred times easier, come on.”  

In an attempt to recreate the effect she just had on the chair, Kara leans forward before shoving her weight back once more, but it’s tentative. She does it again, reserved because she’s afraid of falling backwards.

“Kara, for the love of God, please put your back into it, quite literally, because if I have to stay here longer than necessary because you’re afraid to chip a nail, I’m not going to be very happy.”

The sharp tone cuts through Kara’s worries and puts her back into the correct headspace, getting her to try a bit harder and come back to the realization that her need to get out of here is a lot greater than her fear of falling backwards.

First, she rocks forward as much as she can and then she shoves herself back into the chair with as much force as she can muster. It sends both her and the chair toppling over, and her face scrunches as she prepares for the landing.

Her arms hit the floor first with a dull thud, muffling the sound of wood on wood. She has to press her lips together tightly to stop herself from crying out and, in the process, inadvertently ends up biting down on her tongue. She winces as the taste of copper floods her senses, making her nose scrunch up.

“Are you ok?” Cat’s worried voice calls out to her.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Kara coughs, swallowing harshly and doing her best to ignore the pain in both her tongue and her arms from falling directly onto them.

“Can you get up?”

Kara tries her best, swinging her legs as much as possible to get her momentum to force her onto her side. Her feet are still attached to the legs of the chair but she has made progress. She’s managed to snap the back of the chair off completely.

 Pushing her arms back and wiggling as much as she can in an awkward sort of side shuffle, Kara manages to ditch the useless chair back, immediately giving her more room to move.

“What now? My legs are still trapped.” Kara strains to look back over at Cat, who is watching her closely, the cogs evidently turning in her head as she tries to figure out a way to get Kara off the floor and get the pair of them out of there.

“Uh…” Cat hesitates, and that doesn’t fill Kara with hope. If there’s one thing Cat Grant doesn’t usually do, it’s hesitate. “Can you reach your feet?”

With a bit more awkward twisting, Kara manages it, tapping her fingers against one of the zip ties to show she can. “Yeah.”

“Take your shoe off and bring it closer to you so you can get the laces out, then you’re going to thread it through the zip tie. Once you’ve done that, you need to create friction, pull it back and forth as quickly as possible, and it should snap. Got it?”

“Yes, I think so,” Kara grumbles, doing her best to ignore the aches and pains from being in such an uncomfortable position for so long.

From there, Kara attempts to follow the instructions she’s been given, the task achievable yet nowhere near easy to accomplish. She’s forced to wriggle and squirm to reach her hands around to her feet and contort her body in ways her joints don’t particularly appreciate.

“You look like a caterpillar that has been cursed by the universe to never turn into a butterfly. Hurry up.” Cat rushes her, aware that Kara has made a lot of noise and unsure if there are guards around or someone in the building who is supposed to be watching them.

“Thank you.” Kara grunts, forcing the lace of her shoes through the practically non-existent gap between her ankle and the chair leg.

As soon as it’s through, she starts trying to saw her way through the zip tie, her leg kicking against it to try and weaken it. It’s only on one particularly strong kick that she rips the zip tie down the leg of the chair and realizes that she could have just slid it off all the while without the added stress of trying to break it.

“Oh, I’m kind of dumb.” She mutters, sliding the other one off and forcing her shoe back on, minus the lace, which she just shoves deep into her pocket.

Now that she’s not attached to the chair, she flips herself onto her knees, using her hands as much as she can while still stuck behind her back. She clambers to her feet and steps towards Cat. “Ms Grant, I have an idea of how to get you off the chair, but it’s not going to be pretty.”

“I don’t care about pretty; I care about you getting me the hell out of here.”

Kara takes a deep breath before cracking on with her plan that she admits isn’t the best thought out but is the only one her brain is giving her in this pressing situation. They don’t have time for her to try and find another solution. She just has to try it and hope for the best.

Shuffling behind Cat, she turns her back to the chair before grabbing the top of it with her bound hands and slowly tipping it back, lowering Cat to the floor as gently as she can. Once she’s safely on the ground, she tips her onto her side as delicately as she can, which is not very.

“Hold on, I’m going to help you shuffle down to free your legs, and then I’ll help you off the back of the chair.” Kara murmurs, her hands scrambling to find purchase against Cat’s body to arrange her in a way that will make the escape possible. She’s never before wished that she was friends with David Blaine, but there’s a first for everything.

“Hurry up, we need to make this quick and we haven’t even touched on the handcuffs yet.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part,” Kara whispers.

“You forgot?” Cat whisper-yells back at her.

Kara nods, focused only on getting Cat’s feet free, which isn’t too tricky. Once that’s done. Kara moves to get Cat out of the rest of the chair but falters and changes tactics. It will be easier to pull her up if she can see what her hands are doing.

Totally overestimating her flexibility, Kara attempts to pull her legs through her joined arms. There’s a struggle as she crouches down and tries to shimmy her wrists over her butt so she can kick her first leg over, and in doing so, she falls directly onto Cat, her face smushed against her stomach and her shoulder digging into her boss’ boobs.

“Ugh, can’t you do anything delicately? Jesus, Kara.” Cat can’t do anything to push Kara off her. Still, the sharp tone is enough to get her pulling herself together and trying again, this time a little further back from where Cat is lying so if she falls, it won’t be onto the woman that would totally file a sexual harassment claim against her with HR just to inconvenience her before revoking it after a day.

This time, Kara gets further. She gets her wrists over her ass and manages to get one leg through her arms. The problem comes when she can’t get the other leg through. She’s essentially now just stuck with her hands handcuffed between her legs. At least she can see them.

“That is entirely unhelpful, Kara. Now you’ll have to put your crotch next to my body, and I don’t appreciate that.”

“This is better. I can actually see where I’m grabbing you now.”

“I would prefer an accidental boob grab to having something Lena Luthor has spent too much time buried in lingering right beside my head.” Cat sneers.

Kara’s face flushes a deep crimson at the words, not expecting her boss to come out with something so lewd, yet somehow, she feels as though she should have expected it on some level. Making a choice that will most likely get her further away from the statement and the further tongue lashing she could potentially open herself up to, Kara stays silent, instead manoeuvring around Cat so she can hook her fingers into her armpit and drag her up and off the chair completely.

“Ok, now what do we do about the cuffs?” Kara asks.

Cat answers right away, a plan already formulated in her head. “I need you to pull out the hairpin in my hair and then pass it to me. I can get myself out of my cuffs and then I’ll get you out of yours. Ok?”

“You know how to pick the lock of government issues handcuffs?”

“I dated a senator once.” Cat offers up as Kara digs through her hair for a hairpin.

Kara’s face scrunches in confusion as she hands the hairpin over, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips pulling down as her nose scrunches up cutely. “Why would a senator—”

“Shut up. I have to focus.” Cat snaps, her face the epitome of concentration. It’s also the exact same face as the epitome of constipation but Kara doesn’t dare say anything. She doesn’t have a death wish.

It takes her a few minutes, but it works. Cat pulls it off, displaying the opened cuffs to Kara like a trophy with a smug smile before it drops with her eyes. She’s looking right at Kara’s hands with a level of disdain usually reserved for board meetings.

“I really wish you hadn’t put us both in this position.”

“I’m getting that.” Kara breathes, rolling her eyes.

“I’m going to kneel in front of you. Please remember I’m not your girlfriend, so if I see those hips so much as twitch in my direction, I’m going to leave you like that. Actually, I’m sure Ms Luthor would probably like that. You look like the kind of couple to be into weird shit.”

Kara’s jaw is practically resting on the floor at this point and settles for leaving it that way. At least then her tongue can’t get her into any trouble. Any more trouble.

Cat works away for a minute or two, her eyes laser focused while Kara looks anywhere other than at the kneeling CEO. She would like to erase this moment from her brain forever and feels much dirtier than it actually is because of the uncomfortable air left in the room from the comments made.

As the handcuffs unlock, Kara feels the rush of pain to her wrists as the blood flow is restored. She brings both hands up to her chest and tries to rub some of the feeling back into them.

All signs of her previous snark gone, Cat rests a tender hand on her forearm. “Are you ok?”

“I will be once we’re out of here and we’ve found Lena.”

“Then let’s go find her.”

That decided, they first take a look out of the lone window over on one side of the room, taking in the wonderous sight of nothing but a dirty alley and no way to get down from what is very clearly either the third or fourth floor. There’s no climbing or dropping their way down without breaking their ankles, and if anyone were to try it and fail spectacularly, it would be Kara.

Cat flicks her head towards the door. “That’s our only way out. We can’t get down.”

“That’s the way they’ll expect us to try and escape through, in any case. There might be a tripwire or something.”

“A tripwire?” Cat looks half disappointed and half amused at how Kara’s brain works. “I don’t think there’s a tripwire.”

“Wait,” Kara calls out softly as Cat starts making her way over to the door. “We might not be able to get down, but I think we can get up.”

“Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” Cat folds her arms, her usual strong stance faltering from a mixture of exhaustion, fear and stiffness from being trapped in one position for so long.

Kara looks up and out of the window, judging carefully to see if her idea is feasible. “I think we can do it. We climb out, and I’ll give you a boost up. There’s a balcony right above us. If you can get up there and help me up once you’re there, we can get out through that room upstairs instead.”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to try and climb out of a window to a balcony attached to a room that could be filled with a bunch of assholes that handcuffed us to chairs not too long ago?”

Kara shifts her weight, her hands wringing in front of her. She stretches out her back, cracking it softly. “No, but I am, and I think it’s our best chance. I’ve just got a gut feeling that if we go up there, it will work out for us. I can’t explain it.”

With a huff, Cat pins her with a look Kara has never seen before. “Then let’s follow your gut. Maybe it will lead you to a buffet on the way to Lena.”

“I care more about Lena than a buffet,” Kara argues, prising the window open as much as she can, grateful it’s old and only has a catch, not a lock that requires a key.

“Then today is the day hell freezes over.”

“Is now really the time for you to be making snarky comments? This seems like a time where you should be giving me time to think so we can make the best decisions possible.”

Cat sneers in response. “The best decisions possible? Kara, you just told me to climb out of the window and risk falling to my death.”

Kara’s nerves are fried and she can’t keep her mouth shut any longer. “Would you prefer a bullet instead? I’m sure that can be arranged if you really want that.”

“You’re spicy,” Cat complains, but there’s a hint of something in her eyes that Kara can’t make sense of, her brain too busy figuring out how to get them out of this mess to try and work out the inner workings of Cat Grant’s mind, a hefty task if there ever was one.

“No. I’m scared, and you’re not helping.” Kara answers. “Plus, my head is killing me.”

Cat had somewhat grown accustomed to the dried blood smeared across Kara’s face, but at the mention, it’s like seeing it for the first time all over again. “Let’s get out of here then. You need to get that looked at.”

“Exactly. So, do you want to climb up there or what?”

“No, but let’s do it. I once climbed a basketball player like my life depended on it. This can’t be much different.”

“Gross.”

Kara climbs through the window first, keeping one hand inside to clasp onto the wall just above the window and keep her balance as she teeters on the thin window frame. She holds her other hand out in offering and sighs in relief when Cat takes it without a word, climbing out and facing Kara.

“Stand on my knee first and then work your way up to my hip. Then, I’ll brace my arm against my chest, you stand on my hand, and I’ll boost you up. It’s not that high up to the edge of the balcony. You should be more than high enough to grab the railing and have enough leverage to pull yourself up.”

Humming her understanding, Cat gets right to work. She’s not putting off the inevitable. If this fails, it doesn’t matter if she goes splat on the pavement now or in two minutes.

Kara grunts, doing her best to stay as still and as steady as possible as she’s used as a jungle gym. She has to give it to her boss, she’s actually pretty good at climbing. She’s scaling Kara like she’s nothing more than an average staircase. Impressive.

Cat grips the railing and starts pulling herself up. The metal railing is cold against her palms, the chipping paint helping her grip, something she needs because her palms are so sweaty. She tips herself over the edge as soon as she can, her heart thumping quicker than a hummingbird’s.

“Are you good?” Kara peers up as much as she can, her anxiety increasing now that Cat is out of sight.

She doesn’t get an immediate response, but then, through the gaps in the railings, two legs appear, swiftly followed by Cat’s sharp voice. “Grab on and get up here.”

Kara has a feeling that she’s either going to slip or break Cat’s legs, she’s not sure which it is. She wraps her hands around Cat’s ankles first, and a small part of her revels in the hint of stubble there. She’s found an imperfection in the Queen of All Media. Lena is going to love hearing about this later.

If she wasn’t determined before, she certainly is now that she’s got an image of Lena in her head. She has her head thrown back in laughter and a cheesy grin etched across her face. They’re at home and they’re safe. Kara’s going to get them home.

Climbing her way up to the balcony, her arms gripping Cat tightly and her feet scrambling for purchase against the wall, she almost slips as the unexpected sound of the door slamming open shocks her out of focus.

Someone is in the room they have barely stepped a foot out of and there’s no doubt that her legs are currently hanging right outside of the window right now. There’s no way they don’t know where she is.

“Get down, now!”

The voice is so demanding and strong that Kara has to fight every instinct that she has not to give in and obey, but they can still make it. She’s sure of that.

One final push and a little bit of dumb luck and she’s got her hands around the railings, Cat is standing up and she’s being pulled up onto the balcony fully.

It’s just a shame that by the time she’s safely on the right side of the railings, they’ve already been blocked onto the balcony by a group of agents.

“Hands where we can see them!”

Cat doesn’t fight them, and if Cat isn’t fighting them, Kara knows she sure as hell shouldn’t and follows suit.

“Catherine Grant? Kara Danvers?” One of them confirms – a woman with a stern face, heavily wrinkled despite looking moderately young.

“That’s us.” Cat answers for the pair of them.

“Agent Captyn, CIA.”

A badge is held up for them both to see.

“Agent C—”

“Spelt with a C-A-P-T-Y-N. No jokes at this time, please. We’re here to protect you in the name of national security. Follow us.”

A brief glance is exchanged between them before they shuffle in from the balcony. They’re a little shocked to see what has to be close to twenty agents in the room, some kind of office with a fancy desk and a large monitor in one corner.

“Agent Captyn?” Kara hesitantly tries to get her attention, not willing to risk tapping her on the shoulder. She’d like to keep all of her fingers; Lena would be upset if she didn’t.

Steely grey eyes meet hers. “Yes, Ms Danvers?”

“Have you found Lena?”

Those eyes soften just a smidgen. “We’re working on it, I promise. There’s another team out there right now on their way to a possible location.”

“Is it a hotel?” Cat rushes her steps to keep up with them, the pace a little too fast for her liking. She’s not one to be left behind in any capacity though. “That’s where I last saw her. We were initially taken there together.”

“It is.”

“Good.”

“Excellent.” Agent Captyn faces off with her, not liking the air of superiority Cat is exerting. “Now, we’re going to take you to a safe location and we’ll have someone look over your injuries, Ms Danvers. It looks like a possible broken nose from where I’m standing.”

Kara nods. “Yeah, they got me good. Where are they? The FBI guys sort of just left us there. Did they just leave after?”

“Either that or they got a tip that we were on our way. Our priority is your safety right now, Ms Danvers. All you have to worry about is following my orders and you’ll be back in National City before you know it.” She directs them to the fire escape and they start making their way down to where there are several non-conspicuous black cars and a few plain vans ditched haphazardly outside of the building. “Come on, you’re safe now.” She reassures them one last time.

Climbing into one of the cars, Kara feels Cat’s hand slide over her wrist. The pressure is grounding and helps calm her, but a sly glance over at the woman sitting on her left has her realizing that the touch isn’t for her. Even the mightiest of people falter under too much pressure and need a little reassurance.

Looking away to not make her self-conscious, Kara trains her eyes out of the window, the pain in her face now more evident since she’s got time to sit in the moment. She hopes that whatever doctor they set her up with gives her some pain meds because it’s getting less bearable by the second.

They have no idea whether these people are actually going to take them somewhere safe, but Kara finds that she doesn’t really care so long as she gets reunited with Lena. She needs to know she’s safe. That’s her number one priority.

-

Lena taps her fingers against the table impatiently. She was sure she wouldn’t be waiting long, but here she is, still waiting. At least a couple of hours must have passed, and she’s been alone ever since. It’s making her uneasy. She was so sure that she handled General Lane well and came out on top, but the longer she sits, stews, worries and waits, the less certain she becomes.

As much as she understands why she can’t have her phone with her, she wishes she kept it with her so that she could play one of the dumb games Kara insisted on downloading there months ago so she would have something to do in her downtime besides check her emails. She’ll never admit to Kara that she plays them occasionally, but she’s relatively sure Kara knows anyway. She always knows.

She sighs, weighing up whether or not to just put her head down and see if she can rest a little while she waits. It makes her feel awful that she feels she could sleep even though she doesn’t know where Kara and Cat are but she’s mentally and physically exhausted. She’s half ready for the government to just make them disappear at this point just so she can rest. Albeit, that would be a more extended rest than she would like. A nap is a nap though.

The door opens just as she’s about to throw caution to the wind and get some shut-eye. The person she was expecting isn’t the one standing there though. In place of General Lane, there’s instead a group of agents, guns drawn and in full tactical gear.

One steps forward and raises his mask. “Ms Luthor, follow me. We’re getting you out of here.”

“And who are you?”

“CIA.”

“Say no more.”

He looks confused as she stumbles to her feet. “You don’t have any questions.”

“Not currently. Just take me to Kara and I’ll be happy. That is where we’re going, correct?”

“Well…yes.”

“Wonderful, let’s go.”

-

Lena strides through the building like she owns the place, her fatigue and exhaustion pushed aside as she’s directed to a motel room by a couple of agents. They hand her the key and nod to door number twenty-seven. “You’re safe here. You’ll be well guarded, I promise.”

“Thank you.” She forces out, eager to get to her girlfriend. She slides the key into the handle and pushes it open, barely remembering her manners. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

She rushes inside, letting the door swing closed behind her.

The motel room is split into two parts, a living area and then a bedroom area. Given the quiet emptiness of the living area, she knows where her people should be.

Rounding the corner, she holds her breath, terrified that she’s not going to be there.

She is.

“Kara?”

“Lena?” Kara’s voice is filled with excitement and relief, but that’s not what Lena’s focusing on. No, her eyes are instantly drawn to the bruising and swelling across Kara’s face. She has sutures across one cheek and her forehead.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m ok.”

Cat clears her throat from where she’s sat in a massive terribly-patterned armchair, the thing practically engulfing her. “She’s not fully ok, but she got signed off by a doctor. As you can see, those assholes really did a number on her face. Believe it or not, this is much better than it was before.”

Lena’s feet draw her closer to Kara, even when her mind isn’t all there to direct her. Her body knows where to go, or rather, who to go to. As soon as she’s within reach, Lena’s hands cradle Kara’s face, turning it gently so she can get a better look. “I’m going to kill them.”

“That’s easier said than done. I think a lot of them have run back to wherever they hang their bad-guy masks at night. They ditched us at the office building where they were keeping as soon as they knew the CIA were getting close.”

“And the CIA came and let you out?”

“We were already halfway out by the time they got there. We would have managed it.” Kara brags.

“By ‘halfway out’, she means halfway out the window. We were in the process of successfully scaling the building when they arrived. It was all very dramatic and very impressive. I could have done without it though.”

The story is almost too much. Lena’s had enough for the day—more than. “I can’t take much more of an explanation tonight. Think we can save the story for tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Kara takes Lena’s hands from her face and gently guides her down to sit on the bed beside her.

“She says as though she hasn’t been fighting sleep for the past hour because she wanted to be awake when her girlfriend finally arrived.” Cat snickers.

Lena can’t help the fond smile that falls into place. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Kara nudges her. “Now, there’s three of us and one bed. How are we doing this? I don’t mind taking the couch so you can rest properly. I hear CEOs can be particularly grumpy if they don’t get enough rest.”

Cat raises herself up from the chair, straightening out her clothes as best she can despite them being heavily rumpled from the day’s events. “That’s quite alright. I’ll take the couch. I’ve been far too close to you today, and I don’t want that same experience with your partner. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from being forced to be that close to your crotch. In fact, I might need therapy.”

“You’re not the only one,” Kara mumbles as Cat flounces off.

Lena pins her with a look of utter bafflement and Kara rushes to explain as she realizes that her boss just told her girlfriend that she was close to her crotch. That’s not something that any girl wants to hear about her girlfriend.

“I uh…I got my hands caught around my crotch.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s not as sexy as it sounds. I had my hands handcuffed behind my back and I tried to get them around to my front. I got caught like this.” Kara mimes out how she got herself trapped. “Cat had to pick the lock while I was like that.”

Lena nods slowly. “You’re a disaster.”

Kara is about to argue but loses the words as Lena practically dives onto the bed. “Come cuddle.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Read the final 2 chapters on Patreon here!

Find out more about 'Supergirl May-hem', a new collaborative event for writers and artists who love all SG WLW ships right here.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #fanfic #cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fanfic #kara zor el #supergirl cw #live with me #fluff #angst #fanfiction #chaoticsuper

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty three

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapter

october 12, 2018 los angeles, califonia calum

“What’s been the biggest shift in making this record versus the previous one?” Yet another interviewer asks us the same question it feels like we’ve answered a million times.

“Y’know, we’ve all grown a lot in our personal lives over the past few years,” Ashton says, and Michael and Luke nod along.

“For sure, I mean,” Michael pauses to laugh. “We’ve all fallen in love, some of these guys have gone through some heartbreak, but overall, we’re just a lot more grown up.”

Some heartbreak. Minimizing what I’m going through right now to those two words is almost a lie because of how inaccurate it is. Orion is worth far more than two words, and I know that everyone in this room would agree given the chance. \

“I’d say everything is almost the same, actually,” Ashton adds on. “Like we said, we’ve grown a lot, but our writing and recording is a similar process.”

“But, y’know, we’ve added a lot of fresh elements to this record, like with the keyboard. We’ve tried to take on a hint of an electronic sound, too,” Luke says. 

“Yeah, so we haven’t actually changed anything, but just with the way life works and how we naturally progress as artists, the final product is so different, but the process isn’t.” Ashton finally wraps up the answer, and the interviewer seems quite happy with it. 

“It’s nice to watch how both you and your music evolve over the years. You guys have been together for seven years now, and some of you have been friends for far longer. Do you find that your constant growth impacts your relationships with each other? Are you ever outgrowing one another and having to play catch up? How’s that dynamic?”

My mouth chooses to speak before I do. “Well, Johnny,” I say. I have no idea how I managed to remember that this man’s name is Johnny, but judging by his unphased expression, I think I got it right. “We outgrow each other when certain people withhold certain vital information from other people and let things blow up in their faces when they could’ve prevented it.”

Luke laughs loudly and awkwardly at my comment, nervously looking at each of our faces. “Calum’s such a jokester, aren’t you Cal?” He asks, smacking my back harder than necessary.

I plaster on a fake smile, sucking it up and correcting the course. “Yeah, I’m just joking. These guys never fail to be there for me. Our relationships are always strong, honestly often strengthened by the ways we evolve away from each other sometimes.”

When Ashton starts talking next, it takes a lot of self-control not to lunge at him.

“Yeah, there’s nothing that could come between us. These are my brothers, you know?” 

I don’t have to look at him to know he’s looking at me.

My smile, still fake, widens. “Oh yeah, nothing could ever break these bonds.”

After the interview ends, I don’t bother thanking the host or crew. I take off my headset and set it on the table before walking quickly outside of the studio, pulling my pack of cigarettes and lighter from my back pocket. It feels like such bullshit to have to sit there and act like I’m happy.

“Cal, I know you guys are having issues,” Matt says, following me outside. He looks annoyed, as usual. “But you have to reign it in.”

I puff out smoke and laugh bitterly. “We’re more than ‘having issues’, Matt.”

Matt takes a few steps towards me so that his face is right by mine. “I’m canceling shows for you. I’m canceling interviews so you don’t have to plaster on a fake smile more than necessary. Fuck, I picked up your drunk ex-girlfriend at the beach for you. You’re pissed at Ash. I get it. But you have to get your shit together. This is your job. This is something you chose. Grow the hell up and be civil for the twenty fucking minutes you spend on air with him.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s also the hours on stage and rehearsing, riding in the tour bus. It’s not just twenty minutes at a time.”

Matt rips my cigarette out of my hand. “Hood, I really don’t care. Keep your personal life out of your professional one if you’re not able to be a mature adult when your feelings get hurt.”

“Excuse me, who the fuck are you, again? Oh, right, a man that I pay.” 

“You know damn well you’re not going to fire me and find another manager that will take care of you guys the way I do.”

I hold back then, because he’s right. Matt is an exceptional manager and he’s been with us for years. I can’t imagine where we’d be without him. “Fine. I just won’t talk in any interviews and I won’t talk onstage. I can’t promise I won’t repeat the shit I just said, so it’s best if I just don’t talk.” 

Matt sighs, and then he surprises me by hugging me. “That’s fine. You don’t talk much anyway.”

Reluctantly, I hug him back. The words that just came from both of us wouldn’t have ever suggested we’d be hugging now, but here we are. 

“If I haven’t said it, Cal, I’m sorry. She was incredible, and I can’t imagine how you feel right now. None of us saw that coming.” 

I appreciate that Matt isn’t saying anything negative about Orion. Everyone who knows her knows better than to badmouth her. She’s doing shitty things, but she’s not a shitty person. She’s still the best person I know, despite how much she’s hurting me. I’m still in shock most days.

I go to text her when I first wake up each morning, and then am painfully reminded that I can’t. I can’t even see what she’s doing because she removed me as a follower on Instagram. It takes a lot of self control not to text her throughout the day, awake and sober, just missing her badly. I hope she’s doing okay. I know I’m not. 

—

Performing in LA should be fun. Our friends and our friends who’ve become family all get to come. It’s our home field, basically. Backstage before the show, everyone was too happy.

They all took shots together, playing games of beer pong and just catching up after we’ve been away for a while. It makes me sick to my stomach, so I spend most of the time before the show outside with some of the crew, just smoking. Our crew knows me well enough to just leave me alone, smoking silently next to me for a while. 

“There you are!” Roy’s voice suddenly sounds.

I smile at him. It’s a real smile. It’s nice to see him. “Hey, man.” 

Roy grins, walking over and sitting next to me on the ground. “Just wanted to check in with you, see how you’re handling things.” 

My bitter laugh, a sound I seem to be making a lot these days, falls from my mouth with a trail of smoke. “Like shit.”

He nods and stares at his hands. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but if I know anything about Orion, she’s gonna come around.”

I want to believe him, but I don’t know if I do. She was so determined to end things. It hurt to watch how badly it was hurting her to push me away. She needed to end things, for whatever reason she had for doing it. ‘Sparing’ me. 

“Guess we’ll see in time.” 

Roy sighs from beside me. “Your guys’ love was—is—so real, Cal. You can’t just shut that off.”

“She did it because she loves me. It’s fucked, but that’s why.”

The next thing I know, Roy’s practically giggling. It doesn’t make me laugh, but it does make me smile. His laugh makes me happier, somehow. 

“Sorry, it’s not funny. That’s just, like, the most Orion thing I’ve ever heard.” 

I smile, tears flooding my eyes. “Yeah, it really is.”

Roy and I hang out until Matt tells everyone it’s time to head to the stage. He gives me a hug and says he’s going to watch from VIP with the rest of our friends, and I join the rest of the band for our pre-show shots. 

“5SOS on five?” Luke asks, handing each of us a shot glass. 

“5SOS on five,” Mike confirms.

We count to five, yell ‘5SOS,’ hit our shots against each other’s, and then we gulp the burning tequila down. Everyone else has a chaser, but not me. I grab the tequila bottle and pour myself another, and another, and another. 

After I’ve had four shots of tequila, I grab a beer from the fridge and my mic pack from its spot where it’s charging. The rest of the band doesn’t say anything but follows suit, and then we’re walking to the side of the stage. 

“Let’s get this shit over with,” I mutter.

Luke throws a hand onto my shoulder and squeezes. 

“If you need a break, just take it, okay?”

I nod and fight the tears that threaten to form. It’s our first show after the breakup, and I know I’ll be a mess if I think about it too much. Some songs are written for Orion, so those will hurt, but so will the ones written about breakups and heartbreak, which our fans joke is all we write about.

Ashton nods to us before he walks out to take his seat behind the drums. He bangs a brief rhythm, and then Mike walks out, his guitar slung over his neck. He waves to the crowd with a huge smile. 

I put one foot in front of the other to make it to my spot, grabbing my bass from its stand. I walk up to my mic and nod at the crowd. The deafening screams have just been background noise this whole time, but now they’re accompanied by glaring stage lights. 

When Luke walks out, the crowd goes crazier. He smiles as wide as Mike did, waving with both hands before he takes his spot, center stage. 

On Ashton’s cue, we all start, and I curse the fact that our opener is a song that I have lead vocals on. I try to lose myself in the music, strumming the chords I’ve played a thousand times before, singing the words to the music I helped write but now feel like a foreign language as they blare through the speakers and the crowd sings along. 

I’m able to operate on autopilot until we get to the brief section of our set that has a slower pace. Luke talks, and I drink a few long gulps from my can of beer. Once it’s empty, I hold the can up to a crew member, motioning that I’d like another. 

“LA, we’re about to slow things down for a bit, but first I just want to introduce you to my brothers up here with me, in case this is your first 5SOS show.

“To my right, we’ve got the ever so talented Michael Clifford, the first one to join me in this lame ass band. To my left, we’ve got the stoic, beautiful bassist, and my best friend, Calum Hood. Behind me, our very sweaty drummer, Ashton Irwin!” The crowd roars with each introduction, and I just focus on the beer that a crew member trades out for my empty can. I crack it open and drink from it while I can.

“And we can’t forget, Luke Hemmings. Voice of an angel, our frontman, and the reason we’re a band in the first place!” Ashton takes over for him, and I don’t bother even trying to look at him. “Los Angeles, we hope you like this next one. This is Ghost of You.”

Michael starts playing before I can even get my bearings, and the words Luke sings cut deep as the whole entire room sings along. 

If I can dream long enough, 

You’d tell me I’d be just fine 

I’ll be just fine

Every time I close my eyes, I have flashbacks of Orion. Smiling, laughing, running down a beach or telling me a joke on a walk somewhere in Europe. Happy, blissful, pure. My girl, before she fell apart, before her fucked up fate blew up her life and her dreams.

And I chase it down

With a shot of truth 

The words ring too true to the shots I just took to drown out everything I’m feeling. I feel the tears falling fast down my face as I try to harmonize, but I give up and take a few steps back from my mic. Luke looks at me, holding his mic while he sings. He looks worried, so I have to look away from him.

I’m supposed to sing the second verse, but I know I can’t. As if they planned it, Michael sings it for me when he notices the look on my face. 

Cleaning up today Found that old Zeppelin shirt You wore when you ran away And no one could feel your hurt

The fans go wild at Michael singing my verse. I can barely keep playing the few notes that I need to for this slow song, and thank god that they had a system in place for me inevitably being unable to sing my own verses. 

All I can think about is Orion. She pushed everyone away. She pushed all of us away. She ran away from our home and is living in San Diego now. It hurt so badly to walk into our apartment last night when we got to LA to find it barren of her things. She’s gone. 

The rest of the song is a blur, and I just play the bass off to the side of the stage, not even looking at the crowd. I just look at Luke and Michael and am grateful for them more than ever in this moment. I’m lucky to have bandmates like them who double as best friends. 

When the song ends, Michael walks up to me with Luke in tow while the fans cheer. 

“You good, Cal? We can take 5 if you need,” Mike says, reaching a hand out to rest on my arm.

I shake my head, even though I know the next song will be equally as painful, if not more so. “No. Let’s just get this over with.” 

They both look at me with immense pity. I hate it. I walk back to my mic stand, determined to at least sing the first verse. We start Amnesia and I close my eyes, hoping that tears don’t fall while I sing.

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted I thought about our last kiss How it felt, the way you tasted And even though your frie—

I have to cut myself off as my voice cracks and I step back from the mic, letting Luke finish it off for me.

You’re doing fine Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you? When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you? Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie? If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

I step back up to my mic, needing to scream the last words of the prechorus.

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

I full on sob for the rest of the song, each of the lyrics hitting way too close to home. I don’t sing into the mic, but I sing to myself while I play and watch Luke and Michael sing the words to the crowd. For the most part, I face the back of the stage, toward Ashton, but ignore his very concerned glances toward me. 

And the dreams you left behind, you didn’t need them Like every single wish we ever made I wish that I could wake up with amnesia And forget about the stupid little things Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you And the memories I never can escape ‘Cause I’m not fine at all

—

@5SOSUpdates: Cal barely sang tonight at the LA show. Luke & Mike picked up most of his solos and he cried during GOY and Amnesia </3

@5SOSFan4Ever: my heart broke piece by piece watching cal struggle to get through tonight’s show :( my poor bb

@CalumGirl: imagine having your worst heartbreak be on public display. sending so much love to you @calum5sos

@LetThemEatCake5SOS: does anyone know what actually happened betw cal and orion? they both don’t seem to be doing well and i loved them together.

@5SOSFan4Ever: Replying to @LetThemEatCake5SOS: yeah their friends are all still interacting. something seems wrong. makes me sad :’( 

@CalumGirl: Replying to @LetThemEatCake5SOS: someone said orion has terminal cancer and that’s why they broke up. idk how true that is but if it’s true i am simply devastated

@OrilumStan: my babies broke up and both are struggling it is ROUGH out here just look how sad he was onstage. Image attached

@CashtonLover: Replying to @OrilumStan: has anyone seen/heard anything from orion? i know she’s always been private but i’m so nosy @OrilumStan: Replying to @CashtonLover: no, a few of her friends have posted stuff to their stories about respecting privacy tho. and like i get it but I WANNA KNOW

read next chapter

#5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #calum hood #fanfiction #5sosfam #imagine #fanfic #michael clifford #calum 5sos #calum fanfic #calum fic #calum x ofc #calum x fem!oc

[bitchfitch]

It is time to finally get around to watching the Simone Giertz stained glass robot video,

and I am already much more optimistic about it than I was in the E+K one, Shes actually gotten into the craft and is doing this because it's two things she already likes. But Also. I am so jealous of her rn, that shop is Massive and Gorgeous. Like, I love the stained glass workbench, but if that place is a candy store, This one is willy Wonka's factory.

She's got a Proper grinder, and an aftermarket bit I'm legit jealous of, I need to get one of these things, it would make the little curves So much easier.

Her plan is to trace the chassis pieces of an already existent robot arm to re make it in glass. We haven't seen the arm in motion yet but I think that means these pieces shouldn't be taking any significant loads. They are going to be a lot heavier than the original pieces tho and the arm is one of those dinky toy ones so tbh, rn I suspect it's motor is going to be the week link in this. Ma'am knows what she's doing on both fronts and seems to be the only big name YouTuber to Actually give a shit about the craft instead of just using it for click bait.

I just really like the color grading in these shots. And also how good of a dog scraps is. Ive never met a dog I'd let anywhere near my sg stuff out of like, a concern for their safety but Scraps is being totally chill (It's ok to do most SG stuff around a dog so long as they're behaved and not likely to get up on the table. You do have to be careful about shard management and paw checks tho, Dogs are really good at getting Bits in-between their toes where they can hide and start causing infections. Cats groom themselves too much and might end up with shards in their mouths or throats if you let them in the room with you during cutting, most other common indoor pets are too sensitive to fumes for it to be safe for them to be in the room for any part of the process after the foil goes on. This is just an fyi)

So far the Big issue that's making this difficult is that she made the holes for the screws and such too small. She's doing the Tiffany method which means the screw holes are being made unpredictabily smaller by the copper foil and inconsistency in her soldering, This is not a skill issue and is kind just Part of things. She's going to have to melt off all of her pretty leading and pull off the tape to grind the holes bigger, effectively undoing a Decent number of hours of work and making more for herself. If your considering doing a similar project, hot tip, make the holes Massive, around the size of your screws Head, then fill them completely with solder while you do your leading, the lead is soft enough to drill through and tap with a standard hand drill like you would wood. I'd recommend a manual one over a motorized one just bc it'll stay cooler and stained glass doesn't like being vibrated that harshly.

after some adjustments to things it's most of the way put together and moving! And Yeah it looks Really Really Good. I'm kinda worried what that arm is going to do under load though, It looks like it might want to fold on itself and flex snap on the diagonal, or break the soldering away from the glass. Using thick c channel came around the edges would reinforce it pretty well if that's going to be the reason this video is called "making a robot out of stained glass was a stupid idea from the start"

It just got a wash, a base, and some patina. They put up a title card that said 'homestretch' Look at the progress bar.

Things have been going really well so far so I'm kinda worried about what could go wrong.

the mounts at the base of the arm where the pivot point is can't handle the stresses. Wrapping the outside edge of chassis pieces in came would let them flex without being able to pull away from each other. Bc the glass didn't break, the soldering gave out, came is applied in single long pieces that take some Doing to make fail like that since properly stretched came wants to flex and return to position before it wants to snap. that's why we use it in exterior windows instead of the Tiffany method.

She repaired the seam in the same way it was before glued the hardware in place, fixed up the base to make it match her expectations of it, and it failed again in the same way. This piece has a lot of play around it, obviously I don't know for certain if some c channel will 100% fix the problem, But. she does have the room to give it a shot without having to make any other alterations it looks like.

shes, very reasonably, gotten frustrated and decided to just replace the problem part with the metal piece from the original robot and it Does Seam Promising because everything else worked.

And it does!

she made tea with it. :]

(Video link here)

#there wasnt much to critique #this was just a pleasant video #live blog eksg #like Its Not but im still putting it in that tag

[nicascurls]

Breaking the Dollhouse - Chapter Three

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: What would have happened if Junior survived and was taken by Tiffany from the hospital? What would that mean for Junior and Nica over the next year?

Notes: So this chapter took me longer to write than I expected and does focus on Nica's attempt in Cult, so a warning for that.

Tags: @barclaysangel @rogertaylorismyking

Things had changed since the twins visited. Junior had been nervous before around Tiffany after discovering Nica but now it was so much worse. He had looked forward to his secret visits to Nica's room but now whenever he was alone with Tiffany he wished for Nica to be there too. Someone who actually encouraged him to share his feelings, not just about life now but everything before and his interests. Nica sat and listened no matter how long he felt like he was rambling, gave him comfort when he needed it, waited patiently when certain stories were more difficult for him and took him longer to voice. Or recently, even progressing to things they would both like to do, hopes they had before Chucky. That’s where they were now. Sat eating some of the food that Junior now has stashed in his room that he brought to share, enthusiastically telling Nica all about Greek Mythology. 

Nica was listening intently as she worked her way through a cookie. It made the days being trapped a little more bearable, seeing Junior's face light up talking about his interests. Nica continued to try and absorb all the information Junior was presenting her with when he suddenly went silent, staring at her wrist before trying to pry his eyes away.

Nica silently cursed herself, she didn't like anyone seeing that scar, especially Junior. He had gained the courage to open up to her about his mothers death, after hearing that she focused even more on keeping it hidden. She didn't want to provoke any bad memories for him. Whilst the wound was now healed, the scar was still pink and raised enough to give away that it was a somewhat recent incident.

"Junior…" She spoke gently, trying to pull him out of his trance.

"W- when did-"

"It was before I met you." She could feel a lump forming in her throat at his reaction. "I'll explain everything, I just- I tried to keep it hidden, I didn't want to upset you."

"Can- can you explain it now?"

Nica could see the worry in his eyes, the fear that she would be gone too. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. Come here." She gestured to the side of her and Junior instantly sat down at her side, ready to listen.

"So you remember I told you about what happened to my family?"

"Yeah, Chucky killed them and framed you."

"Well, there was one other person who survived that night that I didn't tell you about." 

Nica spent close to the next hour explaining what happened to her beloved niece and answering any questions that Junior had. All the while, he stayed sat next to Nica, resting his head on her shoulder and giving her hugs when she struggled to continue explaining. 

By the time the explanation was done, both of them had shed a significant amount of tears, not only for the pain and suffering that Chucky and Tiffany had caused for both of them, but for the poor little girl that Nica had considered a daughter who had been so close to surviving. 

Once she had finished, Nica remained in the same spot, staring straight ahead whilst absent mindedly stroking Junior’s hair. She knew it had been a lot for Junior to take in and he was currently curled into her side with his head resting on her shoulder as he processed everything. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you before, Honey.” Nica spoke into the silence, “I know you hate secrets, but with everything you're already dealing with- It’s, it’s a heavy subject and I didn’t want to put that on you. Especially after the past months…”  

“Yeah, I get that…” He responded in a small voice, still coming to terms with what he had been told, he remembered all too well how he felt after his mom passed. What lead him to feel low enough to listen to Chucky in the first place, “I know being kept in here is really shitty, especially after all the other shit you've been though, but… you don’t feel- you won't-”

“It won’t happen again, baby.” She gently grabs his face in her hands and lifts his head to look him in the eyes, “I promise you. It won’t happen again, I’m right here…” 

In an instant, Junior loops his arms around Nica’s neck, hugging her tightly as if to reassure himself that she was, in fact, still there. He eventually let go, but still stayed close to her, for her comfort as well as his own peace of mind but there was still one thought he couldn't shake, “Do you think the same thing would have happened to me?” Nica’s head snapped up before he had even finished his question, eyes immediately scanning him for any injuries. “I mean, if I had kept doing as Chucky asked?” 

Inside her head Chucky let out a short laugh, It would depend on how obedient the brat was! 

Don’t fucking touch him! Nica snapped back. Junior watched as Nica calmed herself. 

“I- I don’t know, honey. I’m just glad we never had to find that out.” Junior just gave her a small smile, gently nodding his head in response as Nica glanced at the clock. 

“We should get some rest, before Tiffany starts screeching in the morning.” That made Junior let out a laugh.

“I thought I would have gotten used to it by now but I haven’t. I’m surprised I haven’t had an episode because of it…”

“Well, I’m glad you haven’t, do you remember the breathing exercises I told you about? I know it can sound silly, but they can be very helpful.”

Junior smiled again, having someone else around who understood his heart episodes seriously helped him to cope. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Okay, good.” Nica passed him an extra pillow before lying down, Junior quickly doing the same. They stayed in silence for a while before Nica adjusted the covers over Junior’s shoulder. She closed her eyes once again and faintly heard a mumble, "Alice was really lucky to have you…" 

Nica had gently awoken Junior that morning before Tiffany rose by stroking his cheek so he could sneak back to his room. Since ‘waking up’ to Tiffany’s high pitched greeting, he had been desperate to see Nica again. After finding out the full story about her family, Junior wanted to be there for her even more than he had before and wanted to be sure that she was alright. 

Junior was currently leaning back on the couch, waiting for Tiffany to retrieve her ‘girlfriend’ from the pink prison she kept her in. He had been given the task of setting up the only movie Tiffany ever let them watch, much to his and Nica’s dismay. Junior’s mind was occupied by wanting to see Nica again and due to that, he accidently pressed the wrong button on the remote, causing the TV to switch to the news. He thought nothing of it and was about to switch it back when he heard the news reader mention Hackensack, that was when he noticed what story was being covered. 

The investigation into the series of homicides that took place in Hackensack last November is still ongoing. In addition to a missing persons case- 

That’s when Junior saw it, his own picture looking back at him. Wait, missing?! He thought to himself, Not dead?! He didn’t hear anything else from the report, only his own heartbeat in his ears. 

She lied! How could I have been such an idiot?! I was in hospital, of course I wouldn't have been reported dead! He was getting increasingly angry. At Chucky. At Tiffany. At himself, Idiot! You absolute idiot! He continued to tell himself, he knew he needed to calm down so he wouldn’t have an episode. Focus on my breathing. Like Nica taught me. Nica! He remembered the task at hand just in time, setting up the TV and forcing a smile on his face as he continued to try and regulate his breathing again. 

By the time Tiffany had returned with a slightly drowsy looking Nica, Junior’s breathing was almost back to normal. Tiffany soon snatched the remote from his hand to put the movie on as he locked eyes with Nica. Whatever Tiffany had drugged her with, it was a small enough dose that she wasn’t completely out of it, she was trying to fight it. For now, Nica was successful enough to be able to clock that something was wrong with him and furrowed her brow in question. 

‘Later.’ Junior mouthed behind Tiffany’s back. 

That night, Nica once again lay in bed, in the horrendous pink room she continued to despise. The drugs Tiffany had given her earlier had mostly worn off now, making her far more awake than she would like to be at almost midnight. It didn’t help that she was already feeling  fidgety and desperately trying to stop herself from chewing on her fingernails. That had already given her away to Tiffany once, she wasn’t going to let it happen again. She knew there was something bothering Junior and she so badly wanted to help him but there was nothing she could do until-

Just then, she heard the familiar rattle of the door handle before being greeted by the sight of Junior sneaking in and closing the door behind him. He had the same look in his eyes that was there in the day, Nica immediately sat up. 

"Hey. What's going on, honey? What's the matter?"

"She lied. She fucking lied and I was a fucking idiot!" He accompanied his last claim with a punch to the bed before sitting himself facing Nica as she did her best to stay calm, "No. Don't talk about yourself like that."

"It's true! She told me everyone thought I was dead and I believed her. I'm a fucking missing person, I saw it on the news!" 

Nica could see the betrayal in his eyes. Junior hated lies, he hated secrets. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, the self hatred clear on his face and it broke Nica’s heart.

"Oh, Junbug…" His expression softened a little at the nickname and he lay down, resting his head in her lap. He continued to take deep breaths as Nica gently played with his hair, focusing on the unique feeling of safety he only had then. 

"I hate her!" 

"Yeah, me too." 

"We have to find a way out, I hate this place."

"We will, we'll figure something out. We’ll find a way…"

"And I need Tiffany to get what she deserves…" Junior turned his head to see a mischievous grin form on Nica's face. 

"I like the sound of that, do you have any ideas?" 

With that, Junior gave a grin practically identical to the one Nica was still wearing. 

#chucky #chucky 2021 #child's play #chucky syfy #nica pierce #junior wheeler #tiffany valentine #Breaking the Dollhouse #chucky fanfiction

[mybrainismelted]

Office AU part 6! Previous parts found here (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5) or view the whole thing on A03

The rest of the day was filled with bashful smiles, flirty text messages, and blatant attempts to distract each other from the work they were supposed to be doing.  Mickey seemingly getting clumsy all of a sudden kept "accidentally" knocking things off his desk that he would have to walk over to bend down and pick up.  And if he just so happened to wiggle his ass a bit excessively in the process, well it was a perfectly normal thing to do, right?  Not his fault if Gallagher couldn't keep his eyes to himself.

And maybe Ian made a bit of a show of rolling up his sleeves over his muscular forearms, and stretched a bit too agressively so his shirt pulled tight across his chest and shoulders.  People do that at the office every day! And if Mickey responded by blatantly checking him out, and slowly running his tongue over his lips, that was totally normal office behaviour too. 

After one such silent exchange, Mickey's phone vibrated.  He smirked, and picked it up to check..

Ian: Like what you see Milkovich?

Mickey:  Hmm, too many clothes on to be sure

Ian: You looking for a sneak peek over there?

Mickey: You gonna strip for me Gallagher?

Ian: has sent an attachment

Mickey's eyes flicked over to the redhead, who was watching him, one eyebrow cocked.  He clicked on the image, and felt his mouth go dry at the sight of a shirtless Ian, skin damp from what looked like sweat, his hair darkened from dampness.

Mickey:  holy shit.  This day must be over soon, right?

Ian just chuckled, and said "Soon", before going back to his work.

Unfortunately, the universe really seemed to have it in for them.  Less than an hour before the end of the day, the boss called an emergency meeting.  They found themselves in a room with Jess and a few other co-workers, nobody really sure why they were here.  When the boss finally arrived, the news was not what they wanted to hear at all.  Mandatory overtime for everyone in the room - for the next 2 weeks.  Well fuck.  So much for their plans.  Dinner was being ordered in, mandatory check-ins every hour to report on their progress, and insane goals for each and every day.  They were gonna be here all night.

They walked back into their office, both feeling a bit dejected at the loss of their plans for the night.  "Well..." started Mickey.  "Guess we gotta put that date on hold again.  At least you've got your pillow if you need a nap."  he tried to hide his disappointment with a smirk and a wink.  Ian wasn't fooled, and gave him a slightly sad smile.  "Sure, Mick.  But hey, at least we get to spend it together.  Can't imagine being stuck here all night with anyone else."

Mickey shook his head a bit, "soft bitch" he muttered, before closing the distance between them and pulling Ian in for a kiss.  It started to turn heated, and they reluctantly pulled away, remembering where they were.  "Back to work."  Mickey said, patting Ian's cheek softly. They worked in companionable silence until pizza arrived, and then took a break to eat with the other poor saps still stuck here. 

"Mick, Ian, come sit with me!"  Jess called out when they walked into the room.  Exchanging glances, they shrugged and moved to join her, sitting side by side on the other side of the table.  "So I guess you guys are on speaking terms again?"  she asked with a smile.  "Yeah, yeah.... all good"  Mickey returned her smile.  He turned his attention to eating while Ian and Jess talked about this crazy job they were all working on.

Finished eating before the other two because they were yakking so much, Mickey turned his attention to something a bit more fun.  Keeping his expression carefully neutral, he reached under the table and just barely brushed his fingers up the inside of Ian's thigh.  The redhead jerked slightly, but kept his eyes on Jess, trying to ignore him.  Mickey let his hand wander, moving higher and higher with each pass.  Eventually Jess got up to leave, while Ian was still finishing his pizza.  Realizing that they were suddenly alone in the room, he got bolder, and moved his hand to cup Ian's crotch, rubbing softly.

Ian let out a gasp, eyes, closing, but reached down and stopped Mickey's hand.  "Mick... please.  I'm not going to be able to stop myself again if you keep doing that"

Mickey smirked and pulled his hand back, leaning in to kiss his Gallagher again.  "Alright, I'll be good.  See ya back in the office."

As the rest of the evening went by, they found themselves working together at Ian's desk, neither of them wanting to be too far from the other.  It was almost 11pm when they finally managed to get the required work for the day done.  Both of them were exhausted, eyes blurring, hardly able to walk.  "Man, I'm beat."  Ian muttered as they gathered their belongings.  He rubbed at his eyes, clearly struggling to stay awake.

"Hey, you're too tired to take the L alone right now.  You should just crash at my place"  Mickey offered.  "Not looking for anything but sleep tonight, man, but my place is close, and you need sleep as much as I do."  Ian looked at him blearily, and nodded once. "Yeah, that sounds amazing, thank you. Not sure I would have made it home."

They headed out side by side, Ian throwing his arm around Mickey's shoulders as they walked down the street, not talking, just enjoying being together.  They stumbled together into Mickey's apartment, gratefully pulling off their work clothes, tossing them aside with relief.  Mickey found an extra toothbrush, and they quietly shared the bathroom while they got ready.  Heading back to the bedroom, both men collapsed on the bed, too worn out for any more words.  Ian lifted Mickey's hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, before rolling on his side and falling instantly asleep.  Mickey turned to face him, and spent the next few minutes studying the face of the beautiful man in his bed, not able to think about much except that he was already in this deeper than he could ever have imagined, before sleep claimed him too.

#office au #fanfic #gallavich

[steelcarbuncle]

╔Bolt╗

Bolt: To break away from control or a set course.

Mood Music

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

◄Six moons, or 197 suns, or 4,744 bells since awaking.►

Sasanecco sat on the bedroll in his daughters' tent, his face more gaunt that it had been half a turn ago. Sasani, dressed in a beautiful royal purple silk dress, lay beside her father with her head in his lap, the tracks of tears dried upon her peacefully sleeping face. He pet his daughter's hair gently and then looked at the bedroll across from them where his other daughter sat with her legs bent beneath her, quietly watching them without any expression and dressed in a sky blue robe that was easy to get around the strange manacles that still bound her wrists. He heaved a sigh as he met the doll-like aquamarine gaze of his first born. "You understand what this means? You are to stay in Ul'dah until some progress can be made on the bindings."

"I understand that I will stay," the girl's voice came out in a flat monotone, as though she were reading it off some internal card. She paused for a moment as she processed her thoughts and continued, "I will stay until the bindings can be separated. It is not good to limit the usage of my hands."

"They need to remove them completely, Sasari," Sasanecco intoned gently to his daughter. He did not like the way there was nothing in her voice any longer, this once cheerful and energetic child. He gazed at the girl he hardly recognized sitting unflinchingly across from him. At least she spoke now, it had taken moons to get even that much from her while she adjusted to the limitations on her aether.

"No," She responded without any sort of explanation.

"This was not the right way, Sari. We can find another way to circumvent Thal's Price. Sani does not want her life at the cost of yours!" There was a touch of pleading to the man's voice.

Sasari took a long moment to think on the words that would be the effective, "Sasani, had no voice. It… was important. I chose."

◄Seven moons, or 232 suns, or 5,574 bells since awakening.►

Carefully open the rings.

"You see that? She really is wearing shackles!"

Slide into the rings on your base.

"Cor, yer right! Hey girl! Girl! Can she not hear me?"

Make sure the rings are laying in the right direction.

"She hears just fine, but she won't talk to ya."

Close the rings with both pliers.

"I bet I kin get 'er ta talk."

Make sure the links are laying in the right direction.

"I wouldn't. Master Susumehi had the last 'prentice that bothered her mucking out the kilns and helpin' in the stables for a sennight."

Carefully open the rings.

"Wot? Jus' for botherin' 'er?"

Add the four new rings to the pattern.

"Yeah, I know she's odd but it's best ta just let her be."

Close the rings.

"Sure sure, she can finish tha chainwork just like the mammet. It's boring anyroad."

Smooth out the chain work.

"C'mon, let's go get a late lunch."

Sasari slowly lowered her pliers and the delicate electrum chain that dangled from her grip, letting the chain rest in her lap. She was working on simple tasks and perfecting what skills she could while her wrists remained locked together by a small metal tether between the cuffs of the shackles. She looked after the two apprentices who had been watching her work and talking as though she could not hear them.

Why is doing something considered odd? Am I not doing good enough work?

She then turned her gaze to the mammet she worked along side. She imagined it often worked near her because she rarely spoke and was therefore not what it called a "nuIsaNCe."

We are clearly different. I do not understand.

◄Nine moons, or 303 days, or 7,287 bells.►

Clank!

"There we are! Separated!" The older Lalafellin man said in his usual jovial tone. He carefully spread the young girl's wrists away from one another inside of the magic circle the thaumaturges had drawn for them on the floor of the plain room. There was a cheer from the others in the room, two guests from the thaumaturges' guild and one from the alchemists'.

Sasari gingerly tested the brokenness of the restraints, moving her arms further than they had been the better part of a turn. She felt something else beside her physical freedom, but couldn't really place it. Remembering what she was told was important, "Thank you… Master Susumehi."

"Mind lass, that the barrier they create is still in place. It will take time to work out how to counteract that, the connecting chain was just a weak point," Susumehi cautioned. He had a grandfatherly demeanor towards the daughter of his friend and he was troubled by the withdrawn way she interacted with others. Children should be allowed to be children for as much time as we can afford them.

"This…" Sasari had begun pausing while she talked to weigh out what she would say carefully at each step, "is an improvement. I can… now do more things. It would be good for learning more… while I am to stay here. This work should be… repaid."

Susumehi leveled his gaze at the lass, he had hoped there would be some change in the enchantment though he knew it would survive separating the cuffs. "If you wish, Sasari. Why don't you rest for tonight, my girl. The preparations were tiring and we can start on some basics for using the hammer and torches tomorrow since you have been studying metals already."

"Yes, Master Susumehi." She clasps her hands to her lap and bows to him and then each of their guests in turn. She would have curtseyed once upon a time, but the moons with her wrists linked together forced her to adapt the custom which she knew people expected of her.

When all had fled her room, she got a cleaner out from the cabinet in the corner and scrubbed the floor until the traces of the circle were but a memory of the previous sun. She had gathered the links of the chain that had scattered around the circle in a small wooden bowl and placed it on her night stand. She stood and observed her work, running her fingers down her arms where they were sore from scrubbing to make sure there was not too much pain tomorrow as that would make it hard to work. She looked at the new night clothes they had gotten her, probably to celebrate she could wear relatively normal clothing again. Papa must have told Master Susumehi blue was her favorite as the night clothes were a pale blue and she could see various shades of the color peeking from the small open wardrobe. Now blue is just a color. Isn't it?

Sasari paused as she held the cool cloth in her hands. She blinked as she looked at the garment and then went ahead and got changed. She slid into bed and laid there quietly, still as a stone until sleep overcame her.

For the first time in the moons since her awakening, she dreamed. In the dream, she could remember what it was like to know how to smile. In her dream, Sani was there.

#FFxivWrite2022 #FFxivWrite #FFxiv #ffxiv rp #sasari sari

[em-dashes]

02.01.2023 - January Update

Total Word Count: 24030 (+6809 since last update)

Well...that was January.

You may remember (or not) but my January goal was to finish Part II of Suddence (as in, act two, not a sequel). I didn’t accomplish that...BUT!! I made up for it in other aspects.

(I realized this post was kind of long so I put it under the cut.)

For one, I made a comprehensive chart of all the chapters and their summaries. It helped a ton to see it all laid out like that because I was big struggling trying to figure out which chapter should go where and what should happen in each one to make the story flow better.

For two, THAT made me go back and change a lot of what I’ve written so far for Part II. This isn’t the “write messily and let future me figure it out” draft anymore. I need things to be relatively polished, if not prose-wise, then definitely story-wise.

I also realized yesterday that the chapters are getting longer than in Part I. That’s not a bad thing, just a little unexpected, because the previous chapters have all been so short. Chapter 1 is quite literally only one page long, a breezy 222 words. The most recently chapter is, at the moment, 2500 words long.

So anyway, a lesson I learned in this semi-drafting-semi-editing process is that sometimes, if a chapter isn’t working, it might help to change how / when it starts.

The most recent chapter (Chapter 18) follows Dany and Zahira as they go to a convenience store to buy a road map. Originally it starts with them in the car, on the way there, and no matter how much I finagled it, I couldn’t get the exposition to sound right, or for their conversation to flow, or for their relationship to feel like something, anything. It was cramping my style.

Yesterday (whilst in the shower, where all good ideas are born) I thought of a different way to start the chapter. It starts with them already at the store (in the washroom, of all places), and magically it was the perfect place to start. Suddenly I had room to explore the beginnings of Zahira’s older sister relationship to Dany, and I have a way better lead into the topic of Zahira’s ex-boyfriend Aaron, who is, in Dany’s words, a piece of shit. (But he’s trying his best. You’ll see...you’ll all see....)

In the beginning of February I’ll be taking a smol break from writing to work on my animation project (you can see some of my progress on @emieclat ). I find that it’s incredibly hard to be productive if I’m juggling two projects at once, so it’s best to set dedicated time aside for both.

Eventually I think I’ll have to make a slideshow post introducing Suddence. I did make an intro post for it a few months ago, but that was, well, a few months ago, and I can go into more detail in a slideshow format.

And now, an excerpt.

Outside, Zahira’s phone rings again. This time she digs it out with a growl and flicks it open like a knife.

“You got something to say?” she snaps into it. “I’m all ears. Let’s hear it.”

Aaron’s tinny voice says, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah? And why wouldn’t I be okay?” She stabs the pump into her car. I get the feeling she wishes she were stabbing something else.

“Look, I didn’t want this to happen,” Aaron says, and Zahira actually rolls her eyes this time. Not that half-roll I’ve seen her do. Her eyes go full white. “Those guys—I was just scared—”

“And you think I wasn’t scared?” Zahira exclaims.

“I didn’t—”

Zahira hangs up. And going by the extra buttons she’s pressing, she just blocked Aaron.

I climb to the driver side and roll down the window and say, “He sounds like a piece of shit.”

#em dashes #writing update #suddence #suddence update #writeblr #i named aaron after riz ah/med's character in bourne LOL don't ask me why #physically i'm imagining him too

[illustratorintheprocess]

Week 11: Monday - Tutor Group Meeting!! Yaaay!

Diving straight into week 11 because week 10 is a blurr. After last Wednesday I know I did some chores and stuff off my to-do list but it's all a blur now and then I worked over the weekend. So Monday usually hits like a truck.

What I do remember from last week is ordering Tracing Paper and Carbon Paper on Ebay to make the transfer from sketch to Lino plate easier. I also ordered and collected 5 A3 lino boards from lcc at some point last week. It was heavy carrying it all the way back.

Alright so Monday and week 11 have come!

At the beginning of this group meeting we talked through the brief of the major project already, just so we've heard it officially at least once before the winter break. I had already printed and read the brief at the beginning of the year so this was just a nice refresher + some extra notes from Maisie, our group tutor, who has seen multiple years work on the major projects. So she has good tips and insights for us.

After that we were left to work on our projects while 3 people at a time would talk to Maisie about the progress we made with our projects. I was really nervous because with a lot of doctor and dentist visits + covid booster sickness + recent crying at the crit + last weeks crazy Tuesday night....it's just so much. And it left me feeling like a total useless slacker who doesn't even deserve to be here.

So yeah. I was anxious.

Maisie called Mia, myself and another member of our group who I don't know by name up first. Honestly the best thing that could have happened because if I was left alone with my thoughts again I would have probably freaked out again. So, the guy in our little group went first and I remembered him because of the presentation all of us gave a whiiiiile back on our project ideas. He is working on a single player table top game for people with severe social anxiety. I can somewhat relate. He has designed 15 cards already and the illustrations looked super good and the characters were very endearing! I would love to purchase his finished game honestly. You can tell he has spent a lot of time and love in developing every detail of it and it blows my mind he made a whole game by himself for this project! Truly original and amazing.

I also knew about Mia's project. Packaging design that caters to the blind consumer. Again, very original and out of the box thinking. I don't remember her showing any samples of her work but she was talking about doing lino cut instead of screen printing. She is also Route B in CTS which means instead of a loooong dissertation like me, she is working on yet another physical project and a shorter essay.

Then it came to me showing my progress and I was really nervous so I can't even remember half the stuff I said but Maisie was really nice and agreed with my work plan of finishing over winter break and printing first thing in January. She said that for the Lino cut prints I have to figure out how to make the characters stand out and pop. That was good feedback and I'm thinking about it a lot. I told her about thermo powders, Ellen mentioned to me, those could be applied to the ink after printing and give the whole image a nice shimmer.

Maisie also encouraged me to check out the 3D workshop area to make a quick wooden board I could put my lino board on while cutting. A little corner in the top of the board would hold the board in place, making the whole process safer.

After the group session Mia and I showed the guy (I REALLY WITH I KNEW HIS NAME AAAH) where the digital print and print finishing area is. Then I showed Mia our common room because turns out she never went there before. I delivered all zines, posters and post cards for the winter art fair here and Mia and I went to the 3D workshop together. Since we both are doing lino cut each of us needed a wooden board like Maisie suggested.

The technician was really nice and had a very calm demeanor. He cut some scraps for us and let us glue the corners to the boards. It took 30 minutes for the glue to dry during which Mia and I took a little lunch break in the cafeteria. It was nice catching up with her again.

The boards turned out nicely so we thanked the man who helped us and headed back home just as it got dark.

All in all a day full of productive and surprising turns.

Oh and I have bought new planner for 2023 and it's all blue and pretty!!

Things are looking up.

#student life #ual #university of the arts london #london college of communication #studyblr #illustration and visual media #lcc #uni life

[shorkbrian]

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately. 

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.” 

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment. 

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way. 

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.” 

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie. 

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone. 

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed. 

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island.  It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words. 

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest. 

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face. 

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly. 

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it. 

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

#shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #bnha shouto #yandere shouto #shouto x you #yandere #Yandere bnha #Yandere mha #sugar daddy lol #sugar daddy shouto #Shouto smut #Yandere shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #Shoto smut #tw.noncon #tw.dubcon #tw.coercion #tw.manipulation #tw.abuse of power #tw.abuse of trust

[rezzyromance]

How would the four lords react if their s/o suddenly says, “I think I’m in love with you,” while watching them do something mundane, eg. Alcina putting on her lipstick, Heisenberg tinkering with something, etc.

This makes me so happy :,)

Alcina

You lay on the large bed you and Alcina shared. It was made to fit her, so to you it was like an ocean of soft mattress and silk sheets. You were so comfortable, although the presence of your lover would make the situation all the more comforting. Instead of laying with you, she was hurrying to get ready for a meeting Mother Miranda had called together. She always made sure to look her best before leaving the house. You lay on your side and prop your head up with your hand, all your weight put onto your elbow. You watched as she sat down in front of her mirror to do some touch ups on her makeup.

"I wish you didn't have to go. I wish you could just lay here with me." you complain. "I know my dear. I'd love nothing more than be able to spend my time with you, lazing away, but I'm afraid this meeting is very important." her tone was soft and sweet. It was a tone she only spoke to you in. You sigh and continue to stare at her, admiring the way she gently bounces her hair in her hands to make sure it sits perfectly. She notices you staring through the mirror and can't help but smile as she reaches for her favorite lipstick.

"I'm surprised you haven't burned a hole in me with that stare of yours." she says before parting her lips to apply her lipstick.

"I think I'm in love with you.", you lovingly say. It wasn't odd or out of the ordinary. You told her that you loved her often, but there was something special about the way you said it this time that made her freeze. Her eyes grew wide for just a second as a blush began to rise from her pale cheeks. She turns to face you, intensely staring into your eyes as the corners of her lips perk upwards into a pleasant smile. "Oh my sweet (Y/N).", she stands up and walks over to you before placing a kiss on your lips, leaving a red stain from her lipstick.

Donna

You yawn as you curl up comfortably in a chair with a hot cup of tea in your hands. It's not a yawn of boredom or exhaustion, but a yawn of comfort. The type of yawn your body produces because it's so at peace that life itself begins to lull you to sleep. You were watching as Donna sewed a brand new dress for one of her dolls. She had taken off her veil to do this, not wanting any lack of vision to ruin her progress. The dress was beautiful. She had been working on it for days. It was a small, pink and flower patterned dress with white lace around the edges that Donna stared at with intensity as she attached it with her needle and thread.

No words were spoken for the entirety of her process. You sat in silence and watch through out all of it. The way her eyes never unfocused from the task made your heart flutter. The way her dainty hands held the fabric so gently caused a light smile to rest on your face. She was just so beautiful.

After a while, you decide to break the silence. "I think I'm in love with you." She gasps and nearly pricks her finger with the needle. Her whole body language changed as she nervously fiddled with a stray strand of hair with her fingers. Her shyness only made you smile harder. "I think I love you too.", she whispers before smiling and continuing with her work, attempting to hide how flustered she is.

Moreau

The light from the tv was the only thing illuminating the room. Moreau had put on one of his favorite romance movies for you both to watch. You told him you'd never seen it before and that absolutely blew his mind. How could you NOT see this masterpiece of a movie? There was no negotiating with the man. You HAD to watch it and so now here you are, curled up on the couch with him in the dark.

You had noticed out of the corner of your eye throughout the whole movie that Sal kept turning his head towards you, observing your reactions to his favorite parts of the movie. He wanted nothing more than for you to enjoy the movie just as much as he does, so you made sure to pay close attention. It was a very cheesey movie about an underdog winning the girl of his dreams who's way out of his league. But still, you pushed through.

You noticed that he hadn't looked over at you in a while. His face was too fixated on the television. You glance over to and notice something. Very subtly, he was mouthing every word spoken in the movie. You kept staring but made sure to not make it obvious enough for him to notice. Word for word, he got everything right. Every single word and sentence was right on time. "How many times has he seen this?", you wondered to yourself. Then, the movie goes silent for a second other than some cinematic music. His lips stopped moving as there were no more words to speak, but a smile grew on his face. You look to the movie and see that it was some sort of scene where the two characters have their first kiss. It's passionate and wholesome. "I think I'm love with you.", you say as you stare at him. He jumps as his shocked expression jerks from the tv to your face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. "R-REALLY?!" You laugh at his excitement. "Of course! I know it!", you assure him before placing a kiss on his cheek.

Heisenberg

"Son of a bitch..." he grumbled quietly as he fiddled with something small in his hands. He had been working on a gift for you for a while now, but he needed it to be absolutely perfect. His face was sweaty even though he wasn't doing anything that required any hard physical labor. It was just the sheer intensity of his own perfectionism that caused such stress for him. He had a pair of glasses that he never wears on. They just help magnify things for him so he can see even the smallest little details of whatever he's working on.

"Heisey, I'm bored. Mind if I sit in here while you work? I promise I won't be a distraction.", you lean on the doorway to his workshop. "Sure but you're gonna have to sit..", he paused for a second as he dragged a metal chair across the room, setting it in a corner that's the farthest away from him. "Oh come on!", you groan. "Don't give me that bitchin'. I'm busy and this is top secret stuff I'm working on!" You groan at his ridiculousness and walk over to the chair anyway. You sat down and watched as his brow remained furrowed intensely. "Damn. He must be working on something serious." You thought to yourself. You noticed he had his tongue sticking out ever so slightly as he worked. You wanted to chuckle, but didn't want to distract him. "Stupid piece of shit..... come on....", he whispers to himself through gritted teeth.

You stared at him, captivated by his focus and intensity. Whatever he's working on must be really small because he's able to hide it from your field of vision with just his hand. He kept grunting and whispering things under his breath. You could tell he was growing frustrated with whatever he was working on. "What are you working on again?", you question. "It's a surprise.", he says bluntly. Your interest is peaked.

He looked goofy. His large body was hunched over a chair, hovering over something so small you hadn't even seen it yet. How could something so small be causing so much stress from such a large man. The absurdity of it all caused you to chuckle. "What the hell's so funny?" He sounds aggravated as all hell yet his focus never strays away from whatever is in his hands. He looked to be carving into whatever it is.

"I think I'm in love with you.", you blurt out. He responds with a cocky chuckle after pausing for a second. You couldn't tell, but in that second where he was speechless, he felt like his heart stopped. Did you really mean it? Could you really mean it? Why now? How could him in such a strange position invoke feelings of affection from you? While his mind raced, he was able to appear as if it didn't affect him. "Oh yeah? How come?" "You're just so funny looking right now. But in a cute way.", you explain. "Like, you're this big and powerful guy, but you're so stressed over something that's so smile and you're trying so hard to work on whatever it is with your giant hands. I'm not sure why, but it's just so loveable to me."

He had completely frozen during your words. He had no idea what to do. It felt as if his brain short circuited and was unable to proceed normally from that moment. "You know what. I think it's perfect.", he says before stepping away from his workshop table with his hand clasped together. He swallowed harshly as he walked towards you and revealed what was in his hands. He made a necklace all by himself with his own blood, sweat, and tears. On the front, it was his family crest. He had manage to manipulate the metal perfectly. On the back it had the word "Buttercup", engraved. You didn't hesitate to put it around your neck. "It looks even better on you.", he smirks before pulling you into a kiss.

#re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 donna #re8 heisenberg #re8 moreau #re8 dimitrescu #lady d x reader #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento headcanons #lady d #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento headcanon #donna beneviento #lady demetrescu #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg x reader #salvator moreau headcanon #salvator moreau #salvatore moreau #moreau x reader