#Toll Management System

[hitchzone24]

Need to replace your FASTag? Here’s how to do it easily!

FASTag has become a significant element for smooth travel on India’s highways. However, just like any other tool/technology, your FASTag might require replacement due to wear and tear, malfunction, or because you’ve switched to a new vehicle. The process to replace your FASTag might seem off-putting at first, but it’s a fairly simple process. In this detailed guide, we’ll reveal everything needed for replacing a FASTag.

Understanding why you might need a Replacement

Before getting into the replacement process, it’d be good to first look at and understand the scenarios in which you might need to replace your FASTag:

Physical Damage: Over time, your FASTag may get damaged due to a variety of environmental factors (like exposure to sun). If the tag is no longer readable at toll plazas, it calls for a replacement.

Malfunction:Sometimes, a FASTag may stop functioning due to technical issues. This could result from a defect in the RFID chip or the adhesive no longer sticking properly to your windshield.

Vehicle Change: If you have sold your vehicle or bought a new one, you’ll need to replace your FASTag. FASTag is vehicle-specific, so it can’t be transferred from one vehicle to another.

Bank Change: If you decide to switch the bank or service provider for your FASTag, a replacement is needed. This might happen if you find better offers or services from a different provider.

Steps to Replace your FASTag

Even though replacing your FASTag is a simple process, it does involve a few steps that you’ll be better off knowing. We’ll go through them one by one.

Identify the Issue

The first step is to clearly identify why you need a replacement. Is the tag physically damaged or has it stopped functioning for no apparent reason? If you have switched vehicles, the need for a replacement is obvious. Knowing the exact reason will help streamline the process.

Contact your Issuing Bank or Service Provider

Once the need for a replacement has been identified, the next step involves getting in touch with your FASTag issuer. This could be the bank or service provider from whom you initially purchased the FASTag. You can usually get in touch with them through different means:

Customer Service: Calling them is often the quickest way to initiate the replacement process. Make sure that you have stuff like Account details, vehicle registration number, and FASTag ID handy when calling.

Website/App: Many issuers also offer the option to request a replacement FASTag through their website or app. Navigate to the section where you can manage your FASTag and select the optionto request a replacement.

Provide the necessary documents

Depending on the reason for replacement, you may need to submit some documents. For example, if your FASTag is damaged, you may not need to provide any additional documentation beyond verifying your account. But if you’ve changed vehicles, you’ll need to provide the new vehicle’s Registration Certificate (RC).

Pay the Replacement Fees

Most banks and service providers charge a small fee for replacing a FASTag. The fee differs based on the issuer and covers the cost of the new tag and any administrative expenses. The payment can usually be made online through NetBanking or a debit/credit card.

Receive your new FASTag

After your request has been processed and the payment is confirmed, your new FASTag will be issued. Depending on your issuer, you’ll receive the replacement FASTag through mail or courier. You may also be able to pick it up at a designated location, such as a bank branch or a toll plaza.

Delivery Time: The time it takes to receive your new FASTag is generally between 5 to 7 business days. Though, this can vary based on the issuer and your location.

Install your new FASTag

Once you have received your new FASTag, it’s time to install it on your vehicle. Proper installation is important so that the tag functions correctly.

Installation Location: The FASTag should be placed on the inside of the car’s windshield. Ideally it should be behind the rear-view mirror. This position allows the tag to be easily scanned by toll plaza sensors.

Clean the Windshield: Before applying the FASTag, clean the windshield to remove any dust. This will make sure that the adhesive sticks properly.Also, note that you do not stick the FASTag using cello tape or any other kind of adhesive.

Apply the Tag: Carefully remove the backing paper and stick the FASTag on the windshield. Press it firmly so that it’s securely attached.

Activate and Link your new FASTag

After installing the FASTag, the next step is to activate it. Depending on your issuer, activation might be automatic or you may have to do it manually through their website or app.

Manual Activation: If your issuer requires manual activation, log in to your FASTag account and follow the instructions for activating a new tag. You’ll usually need to enter the tag’s unique ID and confirm your vehicle details.

Linking to Account: Make it a point to link your new FASTag with your existing account. This is important for seamless toll payment. If the tag isn’t linked, you may encounter issues at toll plazas.

Check your FASTag balance

Before hitting the road, check that your FASTag account has sufficient funds. You can do this through your issuer’s website or by sending an SMS to a designated number. Keeping your FASTag topped up will prevent any hiccups during your travels.

Replacing your FASTag might seem like a tedious task – but this is only at first glance. By following the steps outlined in this article, you can replace your FASTag with minimal effort. Whether your FASTag is damaged, malfunctioning, or you’ve switched vehicles, the process to replace it is designed for ease and efficiency. By following these steps, you’ll quickly be back on the road with a fully operational FASTag.

[harshmishra8726]

PVC Cards vs. Traditional Paper Cards: Why Plastic is the New Standard

As technology evolves, the choices for business tools and solutions evolve too. A perfect example is the shift from traditional paper cards to PVC (Polyvinyl Chloride) plastic cards. While paper cards have been a staple for identification, membership, and payment cards, PVC plastic cards are fast emerging as the preferred option across many industries. From toll management to retail loyalty programs, plastic cards offer durability, functionality, and branding opportunities that paper cards can’t match. Here, we’ll explore why PVC cards are overtaking traditional paper options and dive into how RFID readers are revolutionizing toll management on highways and city roads, enhancing revenue collection, and reducing maintenance costs.

1. Durability and Longevity: The PVC Edge

When choosing between paper and PVC, durability is a deciding factor. PVC cards are made of sturdy plastic, and resistant to physical wear and tear, moisture, and sunlight exposure. This makes them suitable for long-term use in high-traffic areas, like toll booths and public transport. Traditional paper cards, while inexpensive, wear down quickly. Even laminated paper cards can't offer the lifespan of PVC, especially in demanding environments.

PVC’s longevity leads to fewer replacements and less downtime, saving both businesses and users time and resources. This is why businesses in the healthcare, fitness, and government sectors are leaning towards PVC for secure and sustainable solutions.

2. Enhanced Security with RFID Technology

PVC cards support RFID (Radio Frequency Identification) integration, a feature that’s transforming the way industries handle security and access control. RFID technology enables contactless transactions and identification, which has become particularly beneficial in toll management on highways and city roads. An RFID-enabled PVC card contains a chip that communicates with RFID readers to enable seamless, automated toll transactions. These RFID readers, strategically placed at toll plazas, identify and record passing vehicles without the need for physical stops, minimizing congestion and maximizing efficiency.

This security advantage extends beyond tolls. RFID-enabled PVC cards are also used in corporate access control, secure payment systems, and government-issued ID cards. In comparison, traditional paper cards lack these advanced security features, making them impractical for applications that require data security and tracking.

3. How RFID Readers Improve Toll Management

The integration of RFID readers in toll management is a prime example of how PVC cards and modern technology can streamline processes. Here’s a closer look at how RFID technology enhances toll collection:

Automated, Contactless Transactions: RFID readers at toll plazas automatically identify RFID-enabled PVC cards in vehicles, allowing drivers to pass through without stopping. This contactless system significantly reduces traffic congestion and improves the flow of vehicles on highways and city roads, making travel faster and more efficient.

Accurate Revenue Collection: RFID readers accurately track every passing vehicle, ensuring that toll fees are consistently and accurately collected. This reduces the risk of manual errors and fraud, enhancing revenue collection for city and highway toll operators.

Reduced Maintenance and Operational Costs: Automated toll collection systems require less manual oversight, cutting down on labor costs and maintenance expenses associated with traditional toll collection booths. RFID readers are also durable and designed for high-frequency use, meaning they last longer and need less frequent replacement compared to systems relying solely on manual or barcode scanning.

Environmental Benefits: By reducing the need for paper-based toll tickets and minimizing vehicle idling time at toll booths, RFID toll management systems also contribute to a decrease in fuel consumption and emissions, supporting environmental sustainability efforts on a broader scale.

In essence, RFID readers at toll plazas enable a smart, efficient, and eco-friendly approach to toll management, ensuring accurate revenue collection while providing drivers with a hassle-free experience.

4. Branding and Professional Appearance

PVC cards offer a polished, professional look, making them an excellent choice for brands that want to create a lasting impression. Businesses can customize PVC cards with brand colors, logos, and high-quality graphics, enhancing brand recognition every time a customer uses their card. This visual appeal and customization option make PVC cards ideal for loyalty programs, membership cards, and even gift cards in the retail and hospitality industries.

Paper cards, though customizable to some extent, do not retain their appearance well over time. They wear out quickly, making them look worn or faded, which can diminish the brand’s image and lead to a less-than-professional impression on clients and customers.

5. Sustainability and Eco-Friendly Options

While it may seem counterintuitive, PVC cards can be a more sustainable option than paper in specific scenarios. Since PVC cards last significantly longer than paper cards, they require less frequent replacement, reducing overall waste. Additionally, many companies now offer PVC cards made from recycled or recyclable materials, aligning with eco-conscious goals.

Conversely, paper cards might appear to be the more environmentally friendly option at first glance. However, when considering the entire lifecycle of a product, the repeated need to reissue paper cards can create more waste and increase resource consumption. For businesses with sustainability goals, durable PVC options can provide a better balance between environmental impact and long-term usability.

6. Versatility Across Industries

PVC cards are incredibly versatile, which is why they are becoming the new standard across multiple industries. In addition to their role in toll management, PVC cards are widely used in gyms, retail stores, hospitality, and government offices for identification, membership, and payment purposes. The combination of durability, customization, and technological adaptability—such as RFID integration—makes PVC a practical and multifunctional choice for any industry looking to offer a professional, efficient, and secure experience.

Conclusion: PVC Cards as the Future Standard

As industries continue to evolve and adapt to new technology, PVC cards are proving to be the standard choice for businesses that value durability, functionality, and brand appeal. For applications that require reliable security, such as toll management on busy highways and roads, the benefits of RFID-enabled PVC cards are undeniable. They facilitate a seamless, accurate, and efficient toll collection process, reducing costs and enhancing the customer experience.

For organizations across the board, whether in retail, healthcare, or transportation, PVC cards offer reliability, flexibility, and advanced features that traditional paper cards simply cannot match. As the world shifts towards smarter and more sustainable solutions, PVC cards are positioned as the future standard in card-based applications.

[gulfbusinessdevelopment]

Implementing Real-Time Intelligent in Transportation Systems

Long wait periods and unpredictability provide many problems for transportation systems, especially bus networks for Intelligent Transportation Systems. These issues reduce public transit's efficacy and efficiency, which causes commuter annoyances and subpar operations for transportation authorities. Numerous factors, including traffic congestion, unanticipated events, and insufficient information, contribute to uncertainty and lengthy wait times in transportation networks.

As a result, passengers frequently have to wait for long periods of time at bus stops due to erratic bus arrival and departure times.

In addition to being inconvenient for passengers, lengthy wait times deter people from using public transit, which increases the use of private vehicles, causes traffic, and raises environmental issues. Our study intends to create methods and tools to lessen waiting times and uncertainty in bus transit systems in order to address these problems.

[webblogstory]

Get Complete Parking Management System and Automated Toll Collection System

In the modern day, Parking Management systems are essential for users and parking operators. Advancement in parking technologies makes it an easier option to extensively improve stability. Parking management without the high-end systematic system is complex. Utilizing parking management systems is a great, convenient, and flexible option for controlling vehicle flow. Creating a smart parking management system lets you simply get the best parking system features while providing outstanding results. These are significant for managing your car park effortlessly.

Superior Technology:

Investing in parking management systems is a great option as they are integrated with technology. These are also enabled by improved models and technological innovation. You can also easily customize the smart system based on the needs and requirements of your car park. Normally, these can be extensively used for residential and commercial purposes.

Car park management also helps to get happier customers. Installing the unique parking management system will be greater for enhancing the customer journey. These parking management systems provide a unified procedure. It will help the customers to save more time on parking. The method automatically improves customer satisfaction by finding empty parking spaces.

Automated Toll Collection:

Choosing to use an automated toll collection solution is a great option for reducing traffic disruptions. These are significant options for the highways and expressways. The primary goal of an automated toll collection system is to reduce traffic congestion and improve overall road safety. These are also extensively suitable for minimizing fuel consumption.

 In the modern day, the toll collection industry has gained substantial growth with the market expanded. The method is a significant option for reducing traffic congestion and accidents. These also involve higher government support to increase the deployment of electronic toll collection systems. Automated toll collection Increases the convenience due to cashless payments.

Network Toll Solutions:

The Network Toll Solutions provides a completely customized solution for parking management and toll collection systems. These involve multiple system integration with quick management to the extent. Normally, the end-to-end technology solution is also a suitable option for highway traffic management needs. The network toll solution is the leading provider of end-to-end solutions for intelligent revenue collection systems, traffic management systems, and even toll management systems. Many government agencies and private toll plazas also have been using these technologies. It will be a great option to save more time by utilizing the traffic management services programme. These also fulfill the complete traffic management needs even within a short time. For Any inquiry visit at https://www.networktoll.com/contact-us.php

[littlepeach-world]

Hear me out on this oneshot... 🎾🎾

In-ho and his wife has a child together *about 3 years old now* that ran off while at the island during the games and the guards along with In-ho are running all over the place looking for him and then find him inside of a game room that's already been played and empty, but still dangerous!! Toddlers always sneak away, i know mine does😂

Echoes of Fear

Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Warnings: Husband!Inho, Protective!Inho, Dad!Inho, Pregnant!Wifereader, Pregnancy-Related Stress, Child going missing, Parental Anxiety, Emotional Distress, Threats of Violence, Guilt and Self-Blame, Reference to Bereavement.

Word count: 1.3k

You just returned to your desk after putting Jaehyun down for his nap, feeling exhausted but determined to finish the work that had been piling up. Being seven months pregnant was taking its toll, making you more fatigued than ever. Inho, your caring and protective husband, constantly fretted about your well-being. He didn't even want you to work or do anything at all besides staying in bed all day. His concerns for your safety, Jaehyun's, and that of the baby were genuine and heartfelt, often leading to gentle arguments about your need to stay busy. He would lovingly remind you, "Your health, Jaehyun's health, and our baby's health come first, always."

Yet, bed rotting isn't your thing; you liked to stay busy. After a few hours of tackling your work, you decide it's time to check on Jaehyun, who should be fast asleep from his nap. The thought of seeing his peaceful face is a welcome break from the stress of the day.

However, when you enter his room, it is empty. Confusion hits you immediately, a wave of unease washing over you. "Jaehyun?" you call out, your voice echoing through the house. The silence is deafening, and a sense of foreboding begins to creep in.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm as you start searching the neighboring rooms. Each empty room you enter heightens your anxiety, but you try to maintain a semblance of composure.

Your serenity is shattered when you run into June, the nanny, who is pacing nervously in the hallway. Her usually neat appearance is disheveled, and her face is etched with worry.

"June, have you seen Jaehyun?" you ask, attempting to keep your voice steady.

She looks up, her expression filled with guilt and fear. "Jaehyun ran off, and I can't find him," she admits, voice trembling.

Your heart stops, a surge of panic flooding your system. "What! What do you mean you can’t find him? Where did he go?" you demand, your voice rising.

June stammers, trying to explain, but her words blur into an incoherent buzz. Your mind goes blank, your focus narrowing to a sharp point: finding Jaehyun and informing your husband, Inho. Instinctively, you reach for your phone, your hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Stay here and keep looking. I'll call Inho," you manage to instruct June, though your voice cracks with desperation.

You frantically dial Inho's number, the phone feeling slippery in your sweaty grip. Each ring amplifies your anxiety until he finally answers.

"Inho," you say, your voice on the edge of hysteria, "Jaehyun's missing! He's gone!" The words tumble out in a frantic rush.

Inho's calm façade shatters upon hearing the distressing news. The lines in his face deepen with worry, and his usual steady demeanor falters. Yet, somehow, he manages to regain enough composure to soothe your hysteria and urges you to recount every detail as he makes his way toward home. His mind races consumed by the sheer terror of losing Jaehyun.

By the time Inho arrives, he is a man on the edge, but the sight of your tear-streaked face nearly breaks him. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, his voice a soft murmur of comforting words. "We'll find him. I promise," he whispers into your hair, holding you as tightly as he dares.

Despite his own crippling fear, Inho maintains a composed exterior. He knows that he must be the pillar of strength for both you and the situation at hand. Gathering himself quickly, he turns to June, his eyes narrowing with a sharp intensity.

"How could you be so careless?" he snaps, his voice as cold and cutting as a blade. "I swear, if something happens to our son, it won’t just be you I'll deal with—it will be everyone you ever loved, anyone you’ve ever laid eyes on."

Your tears falling freely, you grab his arm gently, interrupting his tirade. "Inho, please," you plead softly. "Threatening her won’t bring Jaehyun back."

Inho takes a deep breath, locking eyes with you, understanding the profound truth in your words. His shoulders slump slightly as he nods, his rage giving way to helplessness for a moment. "I have guards searching the island, Y/N. We will find him. I promise," he vows, tightening his protective grip on you. He places one hand tenderly on your pregnant belly, the gesture meant to ground both of you.

"Breathe, please. For our baby," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your overwrought nerves.

You nod, clinging to him like a lifeline amid the tumultuous sea of your emotions. "You’ll bring him home," you say, your voice tinged with both hope and desperation, more as an affirmation than a question.

"I will," Inho reassures, his voice imbued with determination and a fierce resolve. Leaving you in the care of another trusted aide, he steps back, giving one last reassuring squeeze to your hand before joining the search.

As Inho rushes out to find Jaehyun, his mind is consumed with guilt. He berates himself for being a bad father, too busy with work to spend time with his child. The pain of losing his first wife is still fresh, and the mere thought of losing another loved one is unbearable.

"Why didn't I spend more time with him?" he mutters under his breath, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Memories of Jaehyun's laughter and your gentle smile flood his thoughts, intensifying his sense of urgency.

Frantically searching the building, calling out Jaehyun’s name, Inho's panic escalates with each empty room. His heart races, and his breaths come in short, desperate gasps. Just as he's thinking the worst, his walkie-talkie crackles to life—it's a call from a guard.

“Frontman,” says the guard, his voice slightly nervous, “I believe I know where your son is. He was seen heading towards the old game room. Stage 7.”

Without wasting a second, Inho sprints to the game room, dread and hope battling within him. He presses the button on his walkie-talkie and speaks in a cold, deadly voice, “If anyone hurts my child, there will be dire consequences.”

Approaching the room, Inho pushes open the door without hesitation. The familiar setup catches his eye immediately—it's the same room used for playing "Dalgona." His eyes scan the room desperately, and finally, he sees him— your son, Jaehyun, sitting in a corner, happily nibbling on a piece of Dalgona.

“Jaehyun!” Inho calls out, his voice a mixture of relief and authority.

Jaehyun looks up, startled and scared, his eyes widening in confusion. It dawns on Inho that he's still wearing the Front Man mask, which his son has never seen before.

Hastily, Inho removes the mask, revealing his face. “Jaehyun-ah, it’s appa,” he says, his voice softening.

Jaehyun's fear melts into recognition and then into a wide, delighted smile. “Appa!” he exclaims, jumping up and running into Inho’s open arms.

Relief washes over Inho as he holds Jaehyun tight, the weight of his fears dissolving in the warmth of the embrace. Tears of gratitude and overwhelming love sting his eyes as he showers his son with kisses.

“Never run off like that again,” Inho says, his voice gentle but firm. “Eomma and I were so worried.”

Jaehyun looks up, his small hand reaching out to wipe away Inho's tears. “Appa, no cry,” he says, his voice filled with innocence.

Surprised by his own tears, Inho chuckles softly, “Appa's okay. I love you so much."

“wuv you too,” Jaehyun responds, tightening his little arms around Inho's neck.

Inho's heart swells with love and relief. He puts his mask back on, knowing he must return to his role but grateful for this precious moment. He picks up Jaehyun, carrying him out of the game room.

As they head home, Inho thinks of you waiting for them, and he feels a profound sense of gratitude. Holding Jaehyun close, he carries the warmth of their reunion with him, vowing to cherish every moment with his family from now on.

[flickering-nightfall]

Playing with some ideas mostly regarding gender/reproduction in RW, and slugcat colonies.

Full transcript under the cut!

Creatures in Rain World are typically simultaneous hermaphrodites but require partners to reproduce, with either individual capable of being a genetic donor or carrier. Alongside what we are familiar with, this has lead to interesting reproductive strategies such as rotating donor/carrier roles, or dual/simultaneous genetic swaps.

Rotating donor/carrier roles - A K-selection reproductive strategy. One partner carries the first child, the other partner carries the next child, and so forth. Allows each partner to recover from the demands of childbearing.

Rain Deer aren't quite monogamous, but they tend to choose the same breeding partner whenever mating season rolls around. They serve as a donor one season, then bear and raise a child the next. Calves are raised away from the rain and worm grass, in places that have less food but more safety. Calf wool is softer, not yet gunked up by the dirty rainfall. Their legs are sturdier as children, allowing them to run for cover while the parent wards off threats.

Dual/simultaneous genetic swap - An r-selection reproductive strategy. Parents fulfill the donor and carrier role for each other. The more children you make, the more likely some are to survive!

Multiple batflies lay thousands of eggs in a single "blue fruit." Several eggs congeal and become nutrient paste for the surviving eggs (and for hungry slugcats). Like some plant seeds, batfly eggs that are consumed before pupating can survive passing through the digestive system. Ew.

Ancients also fell under this umbrella. Their genders (and the genders of iterators by extension, who have no sex anyways) could have been determined by a variety of other factors, such as societal role, donor/carrier preference, or simply different categorizations of personal expression.

It's difficult to say how well their common pronouns would translate to ours, but it seems they can translate to an extent, given what Moon and Pebbles use canonically.

Slugcats, like real slugs, can have children with a partner or self-fertilize. Unlike real slugs, they are often known to adopt.

In the case of self-fertilization: children who are born from one parent may display a large amount of genetic diversity despite the circumstances. Maybe slugcats have some sort of... genetic reservoir independent of their own genetic code?

Slugcats live 20-30 years on average... if they manage to reach adulthood. Their mortality rate is sadly rather high, especially in pups. If they were to develop as a civilization, it's likely their lifespan would increase dramatically.

Slugcats in a colony are more likely to have more children, and to successfully rear those children to adulthood, than those who wander alone or in small groups. The safety and stability of a colony cannot be understated.

Colonies either have a set, cycling migration path, or wander continuously. Survivor and Monk's tree home was a nesting site that their colony frequents about once a year. So it's likely that they'll see their family again!

...also, the strength of large colonies are why scavengers are likely to become the dominant species. In the time of Saint's era, continuous migration has become more of a risk, and it has become more difficult to support large populations. Slugcat populations have shrunk back to the more forgiving equatorial zones.

Saint's tongue is pretty unusual and probably unique to them, or to a small population that they hail from. Fur (of varying thickness) is much more common.

Meanwhile, scavengers are bulkier and covered in thicker insulating fur. They:

have seemingly massive populations

have a burgeoning society (the existence of merchants, tolls, bartering, elites and leaders)

are adept at communicating (non-verbally)

manipulate their environment

can build structures (scavenger-made structures were a scrapped idea from Saint's campaign)

can create complex weapons and tools

may have agriculture behind the scenes (unsure if scout parties prioritize exploration or hunting)

I would wager on scavengers developing more quickly than slugcats, but it would be nice if there was a future where both could co-exist.

[trust-is-a-dangerous-thing]

More for the Nightmare!AU. This one goes into a little more detail about the abuse, nothing major but it is there, and there is some talk of reader starving/being underweight, so just be aware of all of that.

Also, I know one person requested that they be tagged in all future updates for this AU, would anyone else like to be tagged when I update? Just let me know!

The other members of your team get hit with a series of very rude awakenings, very quickly.

The first one happens immediately after you pass out, when they rush you to the medical center...only for people to start refusing to help them when they find out that it's actually you they'll be helping. One doctor, then the next, then the next, nurse after nurse, orderly after orderly, almost everyone says they won't do it---some kind of fear or disgust or just plain indifference written on their faces. It's not until Ghost starts threatening people that a few of the medical staff timidly volunteer their services, finally wheeling you into a private room---the rest of your team following in strained silence.

The second happens when the nurses start peeling off your layers. The first few don't reveal anything except more layers underneath, but eventually they start to see skin instead of fabric---covered in scars and black smoke-like spirals that look like tattoos, but clearly aren't. Once the nurses have finally peeled away everything but a pair of shorts and a tank top off of you, though, the members of your team can't help but flinch. You look like a fucking skeleton. Underweight, starving, in every sense of the word.

It's a miracle that you hadn't passed out weeks ago, and an even greater miracle that it wasn't actually the starvation that made you pass out in the first place. It was heat stroke, the nurses said, after filling a tub full of water and slowly lowering the temperature of it in increments to get your own temperature down to a manageable level. They couldn't stop staring at you, at your "tattoos," at the scars that covered your body that they knew damn well couldn't have come from enemy fire.

You don't wake up. The nurses say that you won't wake up for a while---the heat stroke, the starvation, the chronic insomnia, the near-constant state of panic you were in taking too much of a toll on your body. Ghost, Soap, Gaz...they won't leave your side. They take turns leaving to shower and eat, they sleep in shifts just to make sure that someone is always there and awake just in case you open your eyes, and they make it clear that they won't tolerate any kind of sub-par or mistreatment of you. They won't.

The third, and final, revelation comes when Ghost tells Price what happened, everything they knew and suspected, and Price decides to call the captain of your previous team.

He picks up the phone and doesn't seem all that surprised that Price has called him. In fact, it's like he was expecting him to, sooner or later. He asks Price if he's calling about you, but he doesn't use your name or your callsign, he uses a derogatory word that immediately makes Price's hackles raise and a bitter taste form on his tongue. He has to count back from ten four separate times before he can finally bring himself to respond with anything other than straight acid.

When he tells your former captain about what happened to you, he doesn't seem surprised by that either---telling Price that he figured something like that might happen if you got transferred, which is why he hadn't wanted to let Laswell move you in the first place. He tells Price that you needed a "firm hand," and that him and your former teammates had a system for keeping you in line.

Price has a feeling that he doesn't want to know, but he asks anyway.

What exactly had they been doing to "keep you in line?"

And then your old captain starts talking, reminiscing. He tells Price about keeping you locked up in an old storage shed, about how you weren't allowed to eat unless he gave you permission, about how the layers were mandatory, about how they all watched you like a hawk, policed your every move, how they broke you down until you finally stopped fighting and just obeyed. Like a fucking dog.

All for the "safety of your teammates," he says. Price, mentally, calls bullshit. Your file was clean---no insubordination, no fights with your fellow soldier, no smartass retorts, no threats, no anger issues, hell not even a fucking write up for having a messy uniform. There was nothing in your file that suggested that you would be a danger to anyone.

What was in your file, however, was a pretty hefty medical record, almost as tall as his thumb. Bruises, black eyes, lacerations, broken bones, burst blood vessels, burn treatments, cracked ribs, any and every kind of injury that could put someone in the hospital was in your file.

Except the problem with those injuries was that there were very few corroborating mission reports to go along with them. Occasionally there was a report referenced in your file providing some kind of explanation, but for the most part it was just…empty. You were hurt, and there was no reason given. Not even any record of you telling the medical staff what’d happened to you. Nothing.

Price, of course, mentions this, trying so hard not to throw accusations at your former captain---that might make him defensive, might make him clam up, and Price had to know what they'd been doing to you and why. Whether he liked it or not, this was the best way he could help you, even if listening to that bastard on the other side of the phone made him so angry his hands shook. In the end, it didn't take much prodding to get him to keep going.

All those injuries? "Punishments," he called them. For insubordination or not following orders or putting your teammates in danger, although Price highly doubted that you'd actually done any of those things, given everything the captain had already said about your life with them. He had to know more, though, so he could figure out how to help you---what not to do, what might scare you, what they had to show you was okay, what to watch out for.

He took a breath, and asked for more details.

He really really wished that he hadn't.

Tag List - @yearninglustfully

[notaplaceofhonour]

One of the most frustrating parts of the extreme rhetoric around Israel/Palestine (besides the obvious reliance on antisemitic & anti-Arab, Islamophobic tropes) is that it exceptionalizes so many things that are actually pretty standard features of nation-states and war in a way that completely compartmentalizes the criticism of these things into just being about criticizing the “few bad apple” countries instead of criticizing the entire institution of nation-states and war as a whole.

For instance: the fact is that war kills civilians, at an alarming average of 6:1 civilians-to-combatants deaths. The status quo of war, across the board, is that way more civilians die than combatants. And yet, despite the high death toll, despite Hamas using civilian infrastructure & noncombatants as human shields (which Hamas has openly admitted to doing), despite the imprecise & destructive nature of using bombs on urban targets, and despite the inadequate humanitarian aid that has been able to make it into Gaza… the IDF has still managed to stayed well below the average of civilian casualties.

The point of saying this is not “this is what war looks like so it’s not a big deal” it’s “this is what war looks like so we as a species need to stop doing it”—seeing the devastation war has brought to the people Gaza should move you, and it should make you never want to see another war again. It should make you want a ceasefire not just for Israel and this war but all wars always. And obviously, in practice, it’s not that simple—peace is more than “just don’t do war” and the thing about ceasefires and peace treaties is they kind of have to be mutual to mean anything—but the point stands: War Bad.

However, if instead you see the destruction in Gaza and think it’s an exceptional case, where Israel is evil and the only way war could be this destructive is genocide, you get to preserve this romanticized, idealistic fantasy of war as, violent yes, but perhaps only in a cathartic, tragic-but-beautiful way—a glorious struggle where two armies clash on a battlefield far removed from everyday life and only soldiers die. You get to preserve your belief in Just War, to look forward to a morally uncomplicated Glorious Revolution™️—you may even preserve your ability to cheer on the death of Israelis.

And that’s just one issue. There are others: the claim of “ethnostate” obscures criticisms of nation-states as a concept, the claim of “apartheid” obscures criticisms of how borders & citizenship are set up across the world, etc. This inverse Israeli Exceptionalism where Israel is treated as uniquely or exceptionally problematic isn’t simply discriminatory or rooted in prejudice (which are reasons enough to criticize it, as I have), it’s actively impeding the left’s ability to criticize the actual structural systems that are the problem.

[reasonsforhope]

"The Netherlands is pulling even further ahead of its peers in the shift to a recycling-driven circular economy, new data shows.

According to the European Commission’s statistics office, 27.5% of the material resources used in the country come from recycled waste.

For context, Belgium is a distant second, with a “circularity rate” of 22.2%, while the EU average is 11.5% – a mere 0.8 percentage point increase from 2010.

“We are a frontrunner, but we have a very long way to go still, and we’re fully aware of that,” Martijn Tak, a policy advisor in the Dutch ministry of infrastructure and water management, tells The Progress Playbook. 

The Netherlands aims to halve the use of primary abiotic raw materials by 2030 and run the economy entirely on recycled materials by 2050. Amsterdam, a pioneer of the “doughnut economics” concept, is behind much of the progress.

Why it matters

The world produces some 2 billion tonnes of municipal solid waste each year, and this could rise to 3.4 billion tonnes annually by 2050, according to the World Bank.

Landfills are already a major contributor to planet-heating greenhouse gases, and discarded trash takes a heavy toll on both biodiversity and human health.

“A circular economy is not the goal itself,” Tak says. “It’s a solution for societal issues like climate change, biodiversity loss, environmental pollution, and resource-security for the country.”

A fresh approach

While the Netherlands initially focused primarily on waste management, “we realised years ago that’s not good enough for a circular economy.”

In 2017, the state signed a “raw materials agreement” with municipalities, manufacturers, trade unions and environmental organisations to collaborate more closely on circular economy projects.

It followed that up with a national implementation programme, and in early 2023, published a roadmap to 2030, which includes specific targets for product groups like furniture and textiles. An English version was produced so that policymakers in other markets could learn from the Netherlands’ experiences, Tak says.

The programme is focused on reducing the volume of materials used throughout the economy partly by enhancing efficiencies, substituting raw materials for bio-based and recycled ones, extending the lifetimes of products wherever possible, and recycling.

It also aims to factor environmental damage into product prices, require a certain percentage of second-hand materials in the manufacturing process, and promote design methods that extend the lifetimes of products by making them easier to repair.

There’s also an element of subsidisation, including funding for “circular craft centres and repair cafés”.

This idea is already in play. In Amsterdam, a repair centre run by refugees, and backed by the city and outdoor clothing brand Patagonia, is helping big brands breathe new life into old clothes.

Meanwhile, government ministries aim to aid progress by prioritising the procurement of recycled or recyclable electrical equipment and construction materials, for instance.

State support is critical to levelling the playing field, analysts say...

Long Road Ahead

The government also wants manufacturers – including clothing and beverages companies – to take full responsibility for products discarded by consumers.

“Producer responsibility for textiles is already in place, but it’s work in progress to fully implement it,” Tak says.

And the household waste collection process remains a challenge considering that small city apartments aren’t conducive to having multiple bins, and sparsely populated rural areas are tougher to service.

“Getting the collection system right is a challenge, but again, it’s work in progress.”

...Nevertheless, Tak says wealthy countries should be leading the way towards a fully circular economy as they’re historically the biggest consumers of natural resources."

-via The Progress Playbook, December 13, 2023

[alwayssassydreamer]

Stubborn Hearts, Gentle Touches

A/N: thanks Ann for requesting a "fluff for Law. Maybe something along the lines of noticing he’s exhausted, and forcing him to rest? like the usual cuddles and things, Law starting out hesitant and softening eventually." Hope you like it. By the way your request was definitely not awkward 😉

Warnings: none, it's just fluff

Characters: LawxGnReader

As you passed by the captain’s quarters in the morning, you caught a glimpse of Law sitting at his desk, hunched over with his hand pressed against his forehead. The usual sharpness in his gaze had softened into something heavy, his eyelids drooping as he flipped through medical reports. It was obvious that once again he didn't rest.

It’s been days since you last saw him sleep properly, and the thought alone made your chest ache. You had tried suggesting he rest, but he was too stubborn, brushing off your concerns with the same determined look every time.

Watching Law push himself beyond exhaustion time and time again, had your sadness gradually shift to frustration. You knew how dedicated he is to his work, but seeing him refuse rest despite the toll it clearly took is too much. Gathering your courage, you stepped into the room, folding your arms and glaring at him as he continued scribbling away at his desk.

"Law," you said, voice sharper than usual.

He glanced up briefly, raising an eyebrow, but then returned to his work. You were not backing down this time.

“You know, for a doctor, you should know better than anyone how dangerous it is to push yourself this hard.”

He let out a sigh, sounding tired but also slightly annoyed.

“I know my own limits. I don’t need a lecture.”

You stepped closer, frustration bubbling over.

“Clearly, you don’t,” you snapped. “What’s the point of all your knowledge if you’re going to ignore it when it comes to yourself?”

But he ignored you and continued his work, leaving you even more frustrated. As you stomped out of the room you decided that maybe he will start listening to you by using his own words against him.

Later that day you approached him again. He was still at his desk probably with his 100th cup of coffee and most likely only breaks when he needed to use the bathroom.

“Law,” you started, an edge of annoyance in your voice as you approached his desk, crossing your arms.

“for a doctor, you should know better than to treat yourself like this. Running on no sleep and endless work is going to weaken your immune system and slow down your cognitive functions.” you continue as you stepped behind him a finger gently running along his shoulder.

He looked up, raising an eyebrow, though he was clearly not in the mood for a lecture and even less for you touching him.

“I’m fine. I can manage,” he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual conviction and you could feel the slight twich in his body under your touch.

"Fine? You call running yourself into the ground ‘fine’? Your concentration and reflexes will be the first to go, and if your immune system weakens, you’ll be even more susceptible to all the illnesses you’re exposed to daily. You would tell any of us this if we were overworking ourselves.” you stated as you leaned closer your hand gliding up and down his arm

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, giving him a look that’s both stern and pleading.

“You always say rest is essential for healing, right? You’re the one who taught me that the body can’t keep up without giving it time to recover. You’re the captain and the doctor. What would happen if you really couldn’t keep up in an emergency? Law, we need you at your best” you explained.

You placed both of your hands on his shoulder began kneading them, applying gentle pressure to the knots you could feel beneath his shirt. You heared the faintest intake of breath from him—a sign of surprise, but he didn't pull away. Emboldened, you kept going, your thumbs pressing in just the right spots, coaxing the tension to release.

He let out a quiet, reluctant sigh, and you could tell he was fighting his own stubbornness.

“You don’t have to…” he mumbled, but there was no real force behind his words

"I know but let me take care of you for once" you whispered in his ear your hot breath on his neck sent shivers down his spine.

Your hands moved a little lower, tracing gentle circles between his shoulder blades, a move that made him shift under your touch, visibly thrown off. For a few seconds, he was silent, the usual sharpness in his gaze softening.

“You’re really not going to give up, are you?” he finally murmured, his tone resigned.

"Not a chance" you said smiling.

"Come on and give in. Let me take care of you" you cooed into his ear.

You put out your hand smiling innocently. He hesitated for a moment but reluctantly he took it. You slowly guided him to his feet, leading him out of the office and into your room.

There you pushed him softly onto the bed. He gasped in surprise and tried to get back up but you didn’t let him.

"Lay down and relax" you teased.

Law watched you with a reluctant, skeptical gaze as he finally laid down on the bed, clearly unaccustomed to letting someone else take control—or, worse, letting someone else take care of him. His arms rested stiffly by his sides, muscles tensed as if he was waiting for some hidden catch.

You sat down next to him and carefully took his hand in yours. Your thumbs began working small circles into his palm, easing out knots of tension he probably didn't even realize he’s holding. After a moment, you moved to the other hand, repeating the slow, gentle motions until his fingers loosened in your hold. Then, with a soft smile, you started to playfully trace his tattoos, letting your fingertips glide along the inked lines.

You could feel the hesitation radiate off him. You were well aware that physical touch wasn't something he’s accustomed to, much less when he was so exhausted and vulnerable. But you didn’t move away.

You gave him a reassuring look and continued, letting your fingers drift softly from his knuckles to his forearm.

As you leaned down to press a delicate kiss to his fingertips, his breath hitched, and he tensed again, obviously not used to being treated with such tender affection. But you only smiled, moving your lips slowly, lovingly, from his fingers up towards his shoulder, each touch gentle enough to break through his carefully guarded composure.

"Close your eyes, Law,” you murmured softly. “Just relax.”

He hesitated, lips parting as if to argue, but after a moment, he relented, letting his eyes flutter closed. With his guard lowered, he was almost vulnerable—a side of him you’ve rarely, if ever, seen.

His face softened, and you continued your caresses, running your hands over his arms in long, gentle strokes, pouring as much warmth as you could into each touch. When you reached his cheek, you traced it gently, your fingertips gliding over the sharp lines of his face.

When you finally pulled a blanket up over him you smiled affectionately down at him as you felt a warmth bloom in your chest.

You thought he had drifted off as you slowly started to get up, ready to let him rest.

But just as you moved, you felt a hand grab your wrist. Glancing down, you saw Law looking up at you, his usual stoic expression softened with something you couldn't quite place. His grip wasn't tight, but there was a silent plea in the way he held you, a hint of vulnerability that told you he didn’t want you to leave.

“Stay,” he murmured, barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

Without a word, you laid down beside him, allowing him to pull you close. His arm wrapped around you as he pulled you closer your head resting on his chest. You could feel his breathing, slow and steady as he finally let himself relax fully. For once, he was letting down his walls completely, allowing himself to sinkninto this moment.

You smiled to yourself snuggling into him as his grip around you tightened. You could feel his breathing deepen as he drifted further into a peaceful rest.

And, wrapped in his warmth, you realized that moments like these are as rare for him as they are cherished.

[peachhcs]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ʷˢ²

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

things become too much for the youngest hughes causing everyone around her to worry for her well-being

wc: 4.1k

some warnings incase: some mental health struggle, burnout, struggling to reach out for help

i've had this one in the drafts for awhile and i finally finished it. wanted to write some more angst of the harder side of samy's collegiate life, but luckily she's got a real good support system by her side! (also trying some new things with my titles) (p.s. heading home again for winter break in 2 days so i’ll get to everyone’s requests then!!)

au masterlist

there was a lot riding on this season now that samy was officially named 1st alternate captain. after lots of success and making it to the ncaa finals last year, the umich coaches decided to name the star freshman their alternate captain going into her sophomore year. she had proved herself with all the goals and strategies from last season and the girls on the team agreed no one else deserved the position more. samy couldn't be more grateful for the honor knowing how much her team was going to look up to her in the coming season to pull off the same thing and hopefully win the championships this year. 

being alternate captain meant that the youngest hughes was pulled up incase any of the captains now couldn't fulfill their role, so she had to be in attendance to every captain meeting with the coaches and the other girls relied heavily on her since she had the strategy. it was rewarding, but also really draining sometimes. 

on top of this, samy had a full course load to manage while also still finding time to hang out with her friends and keep in touch with everyone else. her busy schedule kept her out of the apartment most days and nights, not coming back in until hannah was fast asleep and sometimes samy hardly slept herself. her rushing around allowed little time for her to slow down and be in the present with what was happening. 

she got up early for practice, saying a half-hearted goodbye to her roommate, and then was out the door with the chance of not returning until later that night. whenever there was downtime, samy's attention was stolen away by a girl on the team needing something or calling her parents and boyfriend, so in reality, she had very little time to herself. 

it was starting to take a toll on the brunette. the sleepless nights left dark, heavy bags under her eyes and the caffeine consumption was at an all time high that just left her jittery and shaky the rest of the day. even trying to do homework and study made samy restless because she just couldn't sit still knowing everything else she needed to do. 

however, if there was one thing about the hughes siblings, it was that they never asked for help. growing up in a constantly competitive environment led the four to become extremely independent and asking for help with even the smallest things was out of the question, especially samy who worked her whole life to prove that she could be just like her older brothers. 

so even if she was struggling with balancing everything and taking care of herself, samy would not ask for help. 

will learned this one the hard way growing up with the youngest hughes and now that he was all the way in california, he had no way of knowing if she was taking care of herself. he knew she was named 1st alternate captain and the work that came with it, but the text messages weren't enough to suffice if samy was still making time for herself. will started worrying when the messages from her started becoming vague and a lot less, more so when she kept putting off their nightly facetime calls claiming she was caught up with other stuff. 

he knew she had a game in boston in two days, so will decided to reach out to the boys to make sure they seriously checked in with samy to make sure she was doing okay. 

"i'm just a bit worried about her," will explained to gabe over the phone the night before the game. 

"you know she's really good at hiding that kind of stuff. she's never asked for help when she's struggling," the darker-haired boy said which made the blonde sigh. 

"yeah, i know which is why i want you and the guys to just check-in with her and see if she's okay. i'm worried she isn't properly taking care of herself," will said and gabe nodded even though his friend couldn't see him. 

"yeah, we will, don't worry. leno and i have plans to get lunch with her before the game so we'll see how she is," the boy's words sent some relief to will's chest. 

"okay, thanks. i appreciate it. we'll talk later," the two exchanged goodbyes and will tried not to think too much about it for the rest of the night or else he'd stress himself out. 

he knew samy could take care of herself, but he just worried that with everything she had going on this semester it was becoming too much and she wasn't reaching out for help. 

with the night game, samy had time to catch lunch with ryan and gabe downtown that afternoon. she entered the restaurant they discussed meeting at with a bright smile on her face. it'd been since late july that the three saw one another, so she was excited to have the chance to catch up with them. the boys spotted her at their table near the back, excitedly standing up to greet her in hugs. the girl jumped over to them with her arms already open. 

"hey! it's so good to see you guys again," she cheered, embracing gabe first. the darker-haired boy grinned, wrapping his arms tight around her torso. 

he noticed the change first. 

as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt..different. or at least gabe thought so. he couldn't quite place what was different, but..she felt..smaller? lighter? he didn't know how to explain the change, but he definitely noticed it, especially when the girl pulled back and he saw the very obvious bags under her eyes. 

he didn't say anything though, letting her go so ryan could hug her. when the two pulled away gabe glanced at ryan, speaking with his eyes by asking if ryan noticed anything too. the brunette was too caught up in the menu though that he didn't catch his friend's glance. 

"i already know what i want," ryan hummed. 

"of course you do. i haven't been here in so long," samy giggled, perusing the menu herself while gabe did the same. 

"how've you been though? you're a big soccer captain now," the brunette hockey player roughed up the girl's arm making her flush. 

"not quite captain, but i'm getting there. i've been..good. busy, but good," samy's hesitation made gabe look up at her briefly. he tried reading her expression, but she just looked back down at the menu. 

"that's so awesome you got 1st alternate captain. what a status. you think you'll be real captain next season?" ryan kept talking. 

"i mean i hope so. our head coach really likes me and so do the girls, so it's a possibility." 

"we're excited for the game later. i think almost all the hockey boys are coming to watch you play," gabe finally chipped into the conversation. 

"aww, that's so cute. i'm excited too. it should be a good game," her bright smile made the boys smile and maybe she really was doing okay, she was just super busy. every college student hit a really busy point in the semester that caused bags under their eyes and slight weight loss. 

gabe decided not to pry now because he knew samy just wanted to enjoy lunch, so he eased himself into the conversation and listened to all the things him and ryan have missed since they last saw her. 

if the three could keep talking, they totally would, but after two hours, they had to cut it short because samy needed to be back for enough time to get ready and get to the field for warmups. ryan and gabe graciously paid (even after samy told them they didn't have to pay for her) and walked back out onto the busy boston sidewalk. they exchanged a few last hugs for now. 

"see you at the game! look for us, we'll have big signs," ryan chuckled as he embraced the brunette again. she smiled. 

"i can't wait to see them." 

gabe hugged her last, still not shaking how there was something different about the youngest hughes, he just couldn't put his finger on it. "good to see you, hughesy. we'll see you soon." 

"see you super soon. thanks again for lunch," she patted gabe's cheek making him flush. 

"of course. you're doing okay, right?" he stopped beating around the bush and lowered his voice a little. 

samy gave him a quizzical look, a flush coating her own cheeks at his somewhat personal question like he just saw right through her or something, but she quickly played it off. 

"yeah, i'm good. why?" 

"no reason, just wondering. being nosy. being protective," gabe shook his head. 

"i'm good, i promise. i'll see you guys later," samy finally said her last goodbye and they walked in separate directions. 

gabe chose to believe her because if samy said she was fine, she was fine. she did know herself better than anyone else and who was gabe to say that she didn't look good? so he let it go and would tell will samy seemed fine, just tired. 

later, at the game, gabe realized he should've poked more about his friend's well-being. 

the lady wolverines had a big lead on the eagles. they were up a whopping 5-2 in the second half with no chance the lady eagles could catch up to them. at this point, the michigan girls were just playing to see how many goals they could rack up in one night. 

the hockey boys definitely got a lot of strange looks when they took turns holding up various signs they made for samy and screamed her name as she ran up the field with the ball in boston's student section. 

"hughesy, hughesy, hughesy," ryan got a chant going to which the boys and the small michigan student section joined in on. 

"stop fucking cheering for the other team!" someone yelled in the middle of the chant, obviously annoyed that people from boston were cheering for michigan. 

"shut up! she's our friend!" aram yelled back at the stranger who just rolled his eyes. 

"they're gonna kill our girls," drew chuckled when samy's team scored yet another goal bringing it up to 6-2. 

"honestly, i saw it coming. our soccer team is kind of shit compared to michigan, no offense," fowler shrugged a bit and the other guys snickered because they knew he was right. boston's soccer program wasn't the best even though they had gotten a bit better since last year. they just needed a star player to come in and change it around like samy had done for michigan. 

the wolverines earned themselves a corner kick when the eagles rolled the ball out of line. samy hurried over to take the kick, but as she began slowing down to get into position, she felt a bit light-headed. her team worked to get into position for her kick, but the more the youngest hughes finally slowed herself down, the worse she felt. she stood in front of the ball trying to ground herself and get her bearings back, but instead, the whole field spun in her vision. 

"is she okay?" teddy wondered from behind the sophomores as they waited for samy to make the kick. 

gabe watched her from the stands and the way she swayed on her heels like she may pass out. his heart dropped and he cursed to himself. he knew there was something wrong. 

despite samy's vision spinning, she attempted to make the kick knowing the team and refs were waiting. however, as soon as she moved she went down, landing face first in the turf. 

the ref blew his whistle. people in the stands gasped and gabe was on his feet not even thinking twice as he ran down the bleachers and ignored the calls of the others. "shit," ryan muttered and ran after him. 

the two boys were down on the field a second later, not caring that they weren't supposed to be down there. the refs who didn't quite know what to do let the boys in as they kneeled down to samy's side. 

"samy? hey, samy?" gabe tried shaking the girl awake. her coach was across the field a second later while the others tried keeping everyone else away. 

"what happened? is she hurt?" coach klein asked in concern. 

"i think she passed out," gabe informed, gently tapping samy's cheeks to wake her back up. 

a full minute passed before the girl's eyes fluttered back open and a wave of relief washed over everyone hovering over her. she saw gabe first and the concern written all over his features and she knew something bad happened. 

"thank god. are you okay?" the darker-haired boy wondered. 

"w-what happened?" the brunette rasped out. 

"you passed out, hughes," coach klein informed before the boys could. 

samy's face paled even further because she knew the exact reason why and that she definitely lied to gabe earlier when he asked if she was doing okay. 

"oh," was all the girl managed. 

"let's get you up. you probably need water and some food," gabe said gently as him and ryan helped her to her feet. 

"you guys got her then?" coach asked and the boys nodded. 

they supported samy's weight as the crowd in the stands clapped that she was up and the refs restarted the game with someone else taking the corner kick. ryan and gabe led the girl into the sports facility, finding the nearest bench to sit her down on for the moment. 

"go find her some water and get her food from one of the vending machines," gabe instructed and ryan did as told. 

samy's head hung low as she avoided gabe's lingering gaze knowing what he was about to say to her. she felt him sit down beside her, "i thought you promised me you were fine?" 

his tone wasn't angry or anything, but she could hear the disappointment in it and that seemed to hurt worse. 

"i don't really know what happened," samy frowned still not meeting the hockey player's eyes. 

"samantha, come on. tell me what's going on," gabe using her full name meant he was being really serious and she grimaced at the use of it. 

"i guess..i just haven't had a lot of time to slow down and it's finally catching up with me," she finaly admitted to which the boy sighed. 

"have you been taking care of yourself?" he wondered. 

"i..i guess not really. i haven't really been eating or sleeping properly. i've been caught up in a lot." 

"you know that's not an excuse to not be nourishing yourself and sleeping right," the boy pointed out softly, not wanting to anger her. 

"i know," samy kept admitting her defeat. 

ryan came back down the hallway with a large gatorade and about five different snacks in his arms. he set it all down on the bench beside the girl and then exchanged a glance with gabe. 

"will just called me asking about what happened. i told him you passed out. he wants you to call him," the taller brunette explained. 

"i'm sure i have to call a lot of people. my parents are probably blowing up my phone right now," samy sighed, her head falling into her hands. 

the two boys exchanged another glance where they spoke with just looks, "you know we're always here for you if you need to talk or need anything, right? just because we're in different states doesn't mean we don't wanna be there for you and help carry some of the weight on your shoulders. the same goes for will," gabe said gently as he rubbed his hand across her back in soothing circles. 

"i know, i know. i just thought i'd be able to handle it and it'd become easier, but i guess it just kept piling up," the girl frowned again. 

"is it something about the alternate captain position? has that been too much?" ryan wondered. 

"it's definitely a lot and maybe i just didn't expect for it to be as much as it is. i've been kind of falling behind in work too," her words made the boys frown. 

"do you think there's someone you can talk to about this to help you manage a little better? like your coach? or one of the other captains on the team to see how they manage it all? it might be helpful especially since you might be an actual captain next year," gabe offered because him and ryan knew eamon powell had a lot to balance being captain as well, but he also wasn't afraid to ask for help when he needed it. he actually relied a lot on the team when he was looking for new suggestions. 

"yeah, yeah. i can talk to them," samy nodded. 

"we're just worried about you, hughesy. we know you don't really like asking for help, but it's not a bad thing. it doesn't mean your weak or anything or any less. a lot of people ask for help. i'm sure your brothers do too," ryan tried his best to comfort the girl as he also joined in with rubbing her back. 

"it's just so hard when i grew up thinking asking for help is a sign of weakness and i wasn't capable. like i know i can ask, but something in my brain is stopping me and i just can't do it," she leaned back against the wall, defeat clear in her system. 

"well, maybe that's what you can talk about with your coach and she can refer you to a sports psychologist or someone who can help you work through these things. i'm sure your team and coach wants you to be at your best, but they can't help if you don't reach out," gabe hummed. 

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys the truth at lunch today. i should've. i don't know why i didn't," samy shook her head and finally took a few sips of the gatorade. 

"don't apologize, it's okay. we just hope you'll reach out to any of us when you do need help again. we were just freaked out when you passed out like that," the darker-haired hockey player said. 

"a mix of not enough sleep or enough food knocked me off my game i guess."

"well, we're glad you're okay. try eating some more and then we'll walk back out to the field with you," ryan smiled softly which samy appreciated their soft tones. she probably could not handle them being angry with her and lecturing. 

coach kept samy out of the rest of the game just so she wouldn't overwork herself again. once the game finished, the youngest hughes called her parents to update them and tell them she was okay and then her brothers who also blew up her phone because they were watching the stream and saw her pass out. 

"yeah, i passed out, but i'm fine," she told them. 

"shit, samy. you freaked us out when you just fell like that," jack huffed. 

"i'm sorry. i guess it's just been a long few weeks and i haven't really been taking care of myself," samy explained with a frown. 

"oh shit, sorry. are you okay?" luke asked. 

"i will be. i just gotta figure out how to balance it all. probably talk to my coach and reach out to one of the sports psychologists," the girl informed the three older boys. 

quinn, who hadn't said much since calling, was the most observant sibling out of the four and he also started realizing how neither of them reached out for help when they needed it most. "hey squirt, i know we raised you thinking getting help showed you were weak, but you know that's not true right? that was never our intention. getting help when things are hard is really beneficial," the oldest hughes commented. 

"yeah, i know," samy said. 

"yeah, i mean it's been a learning curve for all of us, but we always reach out when things get to be too much. we're always here to help too. plus, mom and dad are always good shoulders to lean on if you need to rant," luke chirped up and samy smiled at their words. 

"yeah, thanks guys. i promise i'm gonna reach out to balance it all better," she nodded even though they couldn't see her. 

"good. we want you taking care of yourself, seriously," quinn said. 

"i will, i promise this time. i'll talk to you guys later, yeah?" the four exchanged heartfelt goodbyes and samy had one more call to make which was the one she was the most scared to make. 

will knew her all too well and he already knew how hard it was for samy to reach out for help until it got way too overwhelming, so she worried he would be mad at her for not reaching out sooner. 

"hi baby," will answered immediately. 

"hi will," samy leaned against the hallway. 

"are you okay? ryan said you passed out," the blonde wondered and the girl grimaced. 

"yeah, i'm okay now."

"what's been going on? has everything been okay?" his soft tone took samy by surprise and for some reason, it just made her break down. 

she sunk herself to the ground and basically started sobbing through the phone. will's heart broke hearing her cry and he couldn't do anything about it besides stay on the phone with her. he hated being so far away in moments like these that he couldn't physically be there for her. 

"baby, talk to me. you're okay. i'm right here," he tried. 

"i'm sorry will. i'm sorry. i'm just so tired and exhausted. i haven't had like any time to myself at all and i haven't been doing any studying and i already feel so burnt out from everything," it all poured out from the girl as she told her boyfriend everything that was going on. the blonde's heart tightened and twisted into a knot hearing his girlfriend sound so defeated and he was on the opposite end of the country. 

"samy, don't apologize. there's noting to apologize for. i'm so sorry you've been feeling this way. i wish there was something i could do," will sympathized with her. 

"i'm sorry i haven't been calling you either. i was scared to admit to you that i haven't been doing well and i didn't wanna burden you—"

"samy, nothing you do or say could ever burden me. you know that. i wanna talk to you. i wanna hear your problems. i wanna try and help you, i promise, but i can't do that if you don't talk to me," will cut her off. 

"i know, i know. i guess i've just never felt this overwhelmed before, but i'm gonna reach out more, i promise. i'm gonna talk to my coaches and explain how i've been feeling," the brunette wiped her eyes from her tears. 

"it's okay to feel overwhelmed, baby. no one is gonna be mad at you for setting boundaries and taking time for yourself, okay? we're all here for you," the blonde made sure he was firm so she knew. 

"yeah, thank you. gabe and ryan took care of me and made sure i ate and drank some stuff," that made the hockey player smile a bit knowing his friends were always looking out for her even when he wasn't there. 

"i'm glad they did. i wish i was there to take away your hurt and pain," the boy frowned. 

"i wish you were here too. i miss you like crazy." 

"i miss you a lot too, but i'll see you real soon, okay? hang in there for me, yeah?" 

"yeah, i will. i promise," samy managed a smile. 

"good. i'm always here for you. i love you," she heard will kiss the phone bringing a laugh from her lips. 

"i love you too. i'll call you later," samy knew she needed to get herself together to get back on the bus in a few hours. the couple hung up and the girl stood up to wipe the rest of her tears and compose herself. 

once her backpack of things was back together, she went to go find the boys who promised they'd wait up for her to continue catching up before she left. for once since the semester started, samy was gonna be in the present with them and choose not to think about anything else. 

gabe saw her first, opening his arm up to bring her into the circle. the others excitedly said hi to her and then her and gabe exchanged a knowing glance. she nodded to say she was doing a lot better now and she felt him squeeze her arm as they continued talking with everyone else. 

[ourwhisperingtorment]

I’ve seen people talk about Gihun’s plot armor… but has anybody talked about Junho’s? Imo, his plot armor equals Gihun’s if not greater.

Let’s start from the top. It’s not unaware to all of us that Junho dives head first to dangerous situations.

Bro followed the van with his LIGHTS ON the ENTIRE TIME and no one noticed him!

Luckily, no one noticed the van aggressively shaking when he was strangling that one guard to death.

He managed to survive as a guard for idk 4 days??? A guard who’s supposed to have complete knowledge about the system and the rules.

ONLY ONE square guard felt suspicious of him. But a player decided to take THAT one guard hostage! Whose face was exposed and got killed due to it.

He didn’t have his immunosuppressants. As a kidney recipient, he should have been on meds. But he wasn’t! Kudos to Junho’s immune system for not attacking Inho’s kidney and experiencing a kidney failure right there at that moment???

When they were harvesting the organs, he luckily got out before the doctor got mad and attacked the triangle guards.

Idk if this is a plot armor. But i think it is? The frontman being his older brother is his greatest plot armor. Inho ordered to “bring him alive” when the guards could have just killed him on spot. Inho just can’t kill Junho fr. Junho should have been really dead by now if the frontman was someone else.

He was actually already dead for an entire year but s2/3 needed him so they revived him. 😭 Junho was in a one year coma. As opposed to what we see on TV, it’s almost impossible to wake up from A YEAR LONG coma. But Junho woke up?? And didn’t seem to have any permanent disability? He was just… fully functional again after that severe brain damage that led to his ONE YEAR coma???

Additionally, if the coma was prolonged, it should mean that the damage dealt was severe. All that drowning and blood loss should have taken a toll on his kidneys THAT ARE ALREADY FAILING. Kudos to Inho’s lone kidney for withstanding all that shock Junho’s body experienced??????

BUT BRO HE HAD TO GET BACK TO WORK AND DIVE HEAD FIRST INTO DANGER ONCE AGAIN. He CLIMBED a building like he was spiderman while it was RAINING.

When they thought they found the island, Junho could have easily been that one guy who opened the entrance to somewhere and died due to the explosion from within. But of course it wasn’t him cuz plot armor!

Gihun is all sunshine in s1. He doesn’t seek danger yet it finds him anyways. Junho, on the other hand, actively seeks out danger.

[sugxto]

through the frays of a faulty wire - prologue. eddie x volt

⋆syn: Through Eddie's pain, something - someone - sparks into existence. Exploring how Volt comes to be, and how they navigate their first year of shared existence, together and apart. e/v masterlist. chapter 1/5.

⋆wc: 1.8k

⋆cw: m/m. contains references to drug and alcohol abuse, suicidal ideation, and depression. no explicit sexual content in this part.

⋆notes: This is a small, concentrated series of how Volt came to be, and how they navigate around and with each other over the first year of Volt's existence, taking place years prior to the start of the game. This can be read as a prequel to the Eddie and Volt that exist within the Power Dynamics series also by me, but is mainly just the two of them as we still know in canon. But a lot of how they interact, and their history, is also referenced in PD. One of PD's parts will also join this series once it's finished as a sort of epilogue.

⋆snippet:

He finds the man’s white eyes, finally studying him and replacing the anger with curiosity. He allows himself to feel the charge of the air that hangs between them, and again, he’s hit with a feeling of familiarity. He follows that thread as he searches this strange face, the realization surging over him like a wave.

“You,” he manages out, and white eyes watch him, rapt and waiting, “you’re… you’re my current, aren’t you?”

prologue

This has to work.

It has to. Because Eddie had tried, fucks sake had he tried, drowning this pain, this internal torture, with alcohol. Tried pills he knew Fayra kept hidden away - he’d cut the power in the bathroom, and snuck in while she and Johnny had tried to find whatever was wrong. Tried simply waiting it out, laying on the floor of the grid room for hours, through the night, letting his charge deplete and drain, but it just wouldn’t.

It felt like he was bursting, burning, like the wires inside him were being slowly stripped, being forced to hold and distribute charges too powerful for them to handle. Like whatever power he tried to circulate where needed throughout the house, somehow found its way back into his body, doubled in strength.

And he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

He knew the house needed him. Knew they weren’t oblivious to the surges, the fluctuations, that he had been trying so desperately to control or prevent, to no avail. Knew the toll it was taking on those that relied on him most - all the appliances, Lux, Hector. Knew they all counted on him to keep them charged, running - alive.

But he couldn’t even be certain just how much longer he could ensure that for himself.

That was why this has to work, he thinks, ripping open the door of the grid system. If he could pour everything he had into the circuits, overload the system and force a reset, then maybe -

Maybe something would finally give. He’d tried, one of the first things so many months ago, resetting it normally, a few times, and while the relief did come for a few days after, the pain would return soon after, more splitting than before. But he thought, if it could force it to trip, maybe something new could start circulating, and he could finally, finally be rid of this pain.

Eddie studies the breakers, knows the maps of the wires behind it - they are part of him, after all - knows their inconsistencies and their kinks and their power. And it kills him that he can’t see what’s wrong, what he’s somehow missing, that’s causing this… dysfunction, this breakdown, that frayed him so.

He takes a deep breath, tries to steady his hands as he places them to the metal. He closes his eyes, and finds the thrum of his power inside of him, and channels it through his chest, down his arms, to his palms, sparks starting to fly from his fingers. 

And forces it out.

It burns, it rips from him like the scream that comes from his throat. The current makes his arms shake and tremble, almost like his body is incapable of circulating the magnitude of what courses inside him - which is why he needs it gone. Even if it split him beyond repair, fried him from the inside out, at least he’d be free of it.

His body aches, and his throat is raw, but he can feel it, emptying out of his circuits and into the panel, and he knows he just has to push a little more, and then -

Then, all he sees is white.

It blinds him, overtakes his mind, and shocks his hands with a burn. He stumbles back, his body no longer strong enough to hold itself up, and he falls, weightless, to the ground, white light surrounding his senses before the unconscious dark falls over him.

It could be moments, could be hours, or even days later, he thinks, when he comes back to his senses. His body is aching, exhausted, and he can’t quite find the strength to open his eyes. But still, he notices, as the fog starts to clear, a… relief. That somehow, he’s lighter, his chest not struggling so much to keep a deep breath, and his mind - it’s like a storm has finally broken.

It must’ve worked. Eddie’s never felt like this before or after a reset, or even an outage. He tries, slowly, to find feeling in his fingers, give them a little curl, and with one more deep inhale, he opens his eyes.

Only to be blinded once again by a white, shining light.

He squeezes them shut again, forces his hand up to his face to rub his fingers over his eye lids, trying to reset himself, before trying one more time.

But still, when he opens his eyes, he sees white.

He blinks, focusing his vision and willing this haze away, but then it all starts to get clearer, less foggy.

It’s eyes. 

He blinks again, because yes, it’s eyes, white and shining like a thousand watts, staring at him from only inches above his face.

His body jerks back, pushing himself up and back against the wall, faster than he would have expected to be able to. He pushes his current into his hands, needing some protective bolts to appear at his fingers - but they don’t come. He must really be drained.

But he’ll have to deal with that later. Because now, with this shot of adrenaline coursing through him, and his vision finally clear, he’s able to see what sits before him.

It’s… a man.

The white eyes sit on perhaps the most beautiful face Eddie has ever seen, but the glow radiating from them pales in comparison to the light given off by the being’s mess of white hair, bolts of electricity that remind Eddie of what’s missing from his fingers. The man is crouched to the floor, hugging his knees, but he already knows how big, how wide he is, with shoulders that connect to strong, long arms. And his skin -

It’s like it’s covered in lightning. Light blue, luminous streaks covering the expanse of his arms, his chest, his neck - even more, he guesses, but when Eddie realizes he’s naked, he halts his gaze. He can feel the buzz that emanates from him, like a pull, and it’s so strong, powerful - familiar.

“Who the fuck are you?” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, his throat raw, but his tone leaves no room for misinterpretation - he is demanding an answer.

The man blinks, cocks his head at the smallest angle. His hair crackles and pops as he moves. But he doesn’t speak.

Eddie tries again to summon his bolts, and still, they don’t come. So he steels his voice, tries again. “Yeah, you, how the fuck did you get in here? Who are you?”

Another blink, and dark, jagged brows come to meet at the center of his forehead. His hands come to rest on the floor, balancing his frame as he rests on the balls of his feet. His lips fall open, a deep exhale falling from them. “Eddie,” he finally says, so softly, and his voice sends a shock wave to Eddie’s gut. “Eddie.”

“Yeah I know who the fuck I am,” Eddie says, angrily, and he stands, needing some sort of advantage over this - this thing, if he can’t manage to make his sparks. He presses himself against the wall, and the man’s white eyes follow every inch that he moves. ���You. You. Tell me who you fucking are. Now.”

But the man stands too, and Eddie realizes he’s most certainly still at a disadvantage - he’s taller, not to mention wider, and the muscles on his arms far outweigh Eddie’s. But the blue streaks that covered him are fading, dimming into white to match his skin. When he speaks again, Eddie can see him testing the words, how his tongue forms the sounds. “You’re… Eddie.”

“I’m not playing around. I - I can hurt you.” Eddie’s not sure if that’s true right now, but he didn’t need to know that. “So for fucks sake, answer me!”

The man gives a soft shake of his head, one of his hands coming to rest at the center of his chest, and the lightning marks on his chest are blue again where it lands. “I’m…” he shakes his head again, makes a fist with the hand. “I, don’t know.”

What the fuck. “Well, you fucking got in here somehow, didn’t you? So where did you come from, huh?” Eddie looks around the room for the first time since waking, looking for signs of intrusion, or hell, to make sure he was even still in the Breaker Box. But nothing seems amiss, nothing except the scorch marks that now adorn the walls around the grid controls. He looks back at the man, trying to control his breathing. “Are you - what are you, fucking lightning? Did you strike the house? Is that why I passed out?”

The man shakes his head more fervently this time. “No. Not… I’m…” he’s struggling, Eddie sees it, to make the words he wants to. He purses his lips, and pulls his hand away from his chest, bringing it palm up in front of him, and Eddie presses himself even further back into the wall. He’s about to say something again, but then, from the man’s hand, come white hot bolts of static, sparks and volts that dance around his fingers and circle his wrist, and Eddie stares with wide, shocked eyes.

Those sparks, those… those were Eddie’s bolts. The ones he was missing, that always came when he called them, that he could snap on or off with a whim. But here they were, no longer in his control, in this thing’s, this stranger’s hand, like they were part of his very nature.

But the bolts were a small part of a large picture, just one concentration of how Eddie’s power over his current manifested when he wanted it to. And if this man could create them -

Eddie wills his breathing to slow, and quickly takes stock his the sensations inside his body, looking for the central circuit that controls how he regulates his power - maybe, if he found that, he could assess how to recharge it, get it back under control -

But he can’t. It’s… gone. Not just the sparks of the current, but all of it - the harsh buzz of his electricity that flowed through his veins, his wires, for every day of his existence. He… he can’t feel it anymore. Can’t summon it, can’t control it, can’t… find it.

It should crush him, the weight of this revelation, the loss of something so intrinsic to him. And yet, he feels lighter than he ever remembers feeling.

He finds the man’s white eyes, finally studying him and replacing the anger with curiosity. He allows himself to feel the charge of the air that hangs between them, and again, he’s hit with a feeling of familiarity. He follows that thread as he searches this strange face, the realization surging over him like a wave.

“You,” he manages out, and white eyes watch him, rapt and waiting, “you’re… you’re my current, aren’t you?”

[resurrectionist3]

Timex

Daniel Cleaver x fem!Reader (18+)

✒️ - 12/25/2024 🔏 - 01/08/2025

⏳ - 5,563 words

⚠️CW - 18+ NSFW, oral stimulation (p in mouth), no p in v (yet), general smut, Daniel Cleaver and his sliminess (his presence deserves a warning)

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

📜 - A fairly new hire is getting ready for a very important meeting at her job as the co editor in chief at Pemberley Press. To her surprise, she seems to have lost her favorite wristwatch.

At work, she manages to find it ... on the desk of her most insufferable colleague.

Author's Note - First fan fiction posted to Tumblr, I cannot believe it's for this man. It is actually inspired by the fact that I lost my favorite watch just before Christmas - don't ask how my brain decided to write a fan fiction because of it. I did manage to find it while I wrote this so, that's a win for me. Yes, Frankie is inspired by Francis Abernathy from The Secret History. And yes, the presence of an author named Miles Finch does indeed imply that this fan fiction and this version of Daniel Cleaver do exist in the same universe as the 2003 Christmas comedy film, Elf, starring Will Ferrel. Our beloved Mr. Reed will be here soon, I promise. But I fear I must get this freak out of my system before I can focus on the other one.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“Chilly morning in London today, with a high of 4 degrees and a low of -1° tonight! Expect light flurries this evening with-” The cheerful English news reporter said in his routine chatter about the weather forecast. I poured out a decent serving of cat food for my sweet Argo and sat down to my own breakfast. Turning down the television volume and opening my work notebook, I reviewed the notes from the previous day regarding today’s very important meeting, with a very important author. 

I furrowed my brows as I read the author’s scribbled name, Miles Finch, trying to remember where else I had heard of him outside of work. 

My eyes drifted lower on the page to a different name that I had written down - one that made my heart race and my cheeks blush. Daniel Cleaver, my insufferably attractive colleague and co-editor in chief at Pemberley Press. Our boss, Mr. Fitzherbert, thought it would be some wonderful idea for us to work together preparing for this meeting; the loyal employee of several years teaching the new hire ‘all the way from Boston, Massachusetts’. Weeks spent working a little too closely with Daniel, all leading up to today. To be completely honest, it took its toll on me. One can only take so much of him and his arrogance. 

And his smile … his eyes … his voice … his-

“Ugh,” I caught my mind wandering and stopped, nearly choking on my morning coffee. “Enough of that, (y/n).” I said to myself as I stood from the table. 

I carefully chose a CD to play while I got dressed, settling on one burned by my friend back home. The first song, some obscure 80s pop tune, filled my room as I made my way to the closet. 

“Miniskirt and blouse,” I pondered out loud, pulling the outfit from the rack. “Or, black suit dress?”

Eyeing both choices, I tried to decide which outfit would warrant the best response during the meeting. I looked again at the miniskirt momentarily, blushing as I recalled the … effect it seemed to have on my intolerable associate when I last wore it. 

The way Daniel eyed me that entire day was undeniable. I had been rather used to his stares after 6 months of working with him, but that was different. The way he bit his lip as those icy blue eyes wandered to places they definitely shouldn’t…

“No,” I said quickly, dropping the skirt onto my bed. “Absolutely no distractions today. Suit dress it is.”

After finishing my outfit and makeup, I only had a few minutes before I had to leave. I gathered my things, listing off everything important: ‘notebook, car keys, bag, coat, scarf…’

I prattled off  my belongings in my head as I stopped at my vanity one last time. ‘Necklace, rings, wristwatch-’ I named each item as I put it on, but-

‘Wristwatch…?’  I froze mid-list as I realized my favorite watch was nowhere in sight. I opened every drawer, brows furrowed as I searched all over the apartment. I thought of anywhere it could possibly be, and yet, still nothing. 

I stopped and sighed at the new mess I had made in my hunt. Clothes and jewelry strewn over my unmade bed after my unceremonious rummage around. 

‘I wore it yesterday.. I remember that,’  I thought to myself, stood amongst the disarray. ‘Then.. where did it go afterwards?' 

Figuring it would be easily found on my desk at work,  I relented. I took all my things and left the apartment, throwing on my scarf and coat once inside the elevator. 

In the car, my mind drifted back to the watch. After earning this perfect job at Pemberley, I bought anything I wanted. Expensive jewelry, designer clothes, a new car - even my fancy apartment in London after relocating. I could probably buy 7 of the same basic black and gold Timex watch, but this one was special to me. 

“I’m being quite honest, Frankie, I can't find it anywhere,” I sigh over the phone to my best friend. “I looked all over my apartment, all over my work desk, even asked our security guard if he’d seen it. I fear it’s gone.” I slouched a little in my desk chair as I came to my upsetting realization. 

“Please, (y/n), it’s not that serious. It’s a small thing, I’ll buy you a new one if you like.” Frankie said, his voice as cool and unconcerned as always. Franklin Arkwright; assistant to the CEO of our partner publishing company back home in Boston. He was my oldest friend, and the one who managed to get me the job at Pemberley in the first place. 

I stood from my chair and paced about my office, the phone cord pulling as I walked around my desk. “It’s not just a small thing, Frankie. You know how much I love that watch, and I don't enjoy losing my belongings.” My hand went to my (y/hc) hair as I sighed again. I turned around, going to the opposite side of the room when I accidentally locked eyes with him. 

Daniel Cleaver’s office sat inconveniently right beside mine, both spaces walled completely with floor to ceiling glass (I preferred more privacy myself, but the sleek and modern look was just so in these days).

My heart quickened for a moment, sending a strange pulse through my chest as his blue eyes met mine, a smirk appearing on his face. I managed a smile back as he waved, still talking to whoever was on his own phone. He eyed me up and down as he always did, his gaze lingering on my choice of dress; the dress that I suddenly realized had such a low neckline. 

I scoffed and looked away from his irritating stares, my eyes moving to his desk instead. Frankie continued on in my ear about something his mother had said as I scanned the organized mess of Daniel’s workspace. Stacked papers and folders, pens and pencils, a paper coffee cup, my watch, a stapler-

My watch?

My eyes widened at the undeniable sight of my wristwatch sitting on the desk of none other than Daniel fucking Cleaver. The black leather wristband and gold rimmed clock face was recognizable even from where I stood. I looked back up to him as he paced about his own office, talking away on his phone. He seemed either unaware that it was there, or he at least didn't care. 

'How on earth did it get there?’ I thought to myself as I wracked my brain, finally remembering yesterday’s encounter. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

In the meeting room, Daniel leaned against the long table as I went over my checklist for a final time. “Right, the presentation is finished, I wrote up my little spiel. Do you have yours ready, Cleaver?” I asked and instantly rolled my eyes as I caught him staring where he shouldn’t. Again. 

“Yes, yes, (y/ln), I’ll get on that straight away,” He said briskly, reluctantly meeting my eyes. I could tell he was very distracted, and likely hadn’t heard a word that I said. 

“Daniel, please just know that if you fuck up this meeting and make a fool of me, I will have your head for it.” I said in a casual voice, returning to my written list.

“Noted. Thank you, (y/ln)” Daniel responded coolly. I caught his eyes wandering again and shot him a glare. Perhaps he felt bad for not listening to me, or more than likely, he was trying to play off his stares as he leaned off the table and walked closer. 

“You know, (y/n), I never noticed how nice your watch is,” He said, tilting his head as he looked at the clock on my wrist. “I think I like it.”

 I furrowed my brows at his out-of-place comment and looked at him skeptically. “Well, I do wear it everyday, Daniel. How have you not mentioned it before?” Daniel just shrugged in response, eyes still on my wrist. 

“The gold suits you quite nicely,” He said pensively, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Daniel gently reached out for my hand, and asked for a closer look. Confused, I set down my notebook and pen, taking the watch from my wrist. Our hands brushed momentarily as I set the watch in his palm, making my heart skip annoyingly. As he examined it, I went back to my list and finished going over everything for tomorrow. 

Before I could say another word to Daniel, Mr. Fitzherbert had entered and asked for me. The last thing I remembered was taking my notebook and pen, and hurrying out - leaving my favorite watch with Daniel. Fucking. Cleaver. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“(y/n)...? (Y/N)??” Frankie repeated over the phone, taking me out of my memory. “Are you still there, babe?” 

I let out a laugh and took a breath as I realized I was still on the phone with him. “Y-yea, I’m still here, Frankie.. But I think I should go. I, uhm, I found my watch.”

Without another word, I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Daniel had also finished his own phone call and was standing by the window, reading some documents. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as I contemplated actually going over there. After all, it IS just a watch. But, it was still my favorite one. 

I readjusted my dress and made my way to Daniel’s office, entering politely. “Afternoon, Mr. Cleaver,” I said with the nicest smile I could manage. “Today’s the day! Big meeting with Miles Finch. I hope you’re ready!” 

Daniel flashed me a smile - that terribly charming smile of his. “Good afternoon to you, Miss (y/ln). To what do I owe this lovely intrusion?” 

From the look he gave me I could tell, he knew what I was there for.  My eyes went from him to my watch, sat right on his desk beside his computer, almost displayed like some kind of trophy. I lost my fake smile and relaxed, crossing my arms. “I’m here to see if you're prepared. And to take my watch back; I’ve been looking for it all morning.” 

Daniel looked confused and taken aback by my statement. “Your watch..? (y/ln), you must be barking, I don’t have your watch.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him and walked towards his desk. I wasn’t in any mood for his games today. “Yes, Daniel. This watch, it’s mine.” I reached out to take it, just as he bent over the desk and picked it up himself. 

“Oh, this watch? Odd, what is it doing here? Are you sure it’s yours?” Daniel said while he examined it just like he did the day prior. I rolled my eyes at him and his antics. 

“Yesterday.. The meeting room? You asked to see it and then I had to go.” I recalled briefly, still irritated with his little act. “I really have been looking for it all morning, I’ve been worried half to death.” 

Daniel’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Half to death? God, (y/ln), it’s just a watch,” He said, turning it over in his hands. “Why do you wear it everyday? It's a bit worse for wear, isn't it? Scratches in the glass here, creasing in the wristband. And, oh dear, is that a crack? Surely, they pay you enough to buy a nicer one.” 

I glared at him from the other side of his desk and huffed in anger. “It’s very special to me, Daniel. My dear friend, Frankie, gave it to me before I left home to move here. It used to belong to him; he knew I loved it so much,” I stopped myself and sighed. Something told me that it was futile to try and explain the emotional value of a wristwatch to someone like Daniel Cleaver. “It’s .. sentimental. Perhaps you’d understand if you had friends of your own, now I’d like to have it back please.” 

The emphasis on my statement didn't seem to matter as Daniel just smiled to himself and looked back at my watch. “How dare you presume to know the status of my personal friendships,” He said after taking a gasp of fake offence. 

I held my hand out for him to give the watch back, a silent plea for him to end this ridiculous nonsense. But to my confusion and irritation, instead of offering it back, he pulled back his sleeve and put it on. “You know, I think I'll hold onto it for you. Just for today, what do you think, (y/ln)?” 

It was my turn to be taken aback now. “What, no- Cleaver, just give it to me,” I said, my already thin patience running thinner. “This isn’t grade school, what are we, confiscating each other’s belongings now..?” 

Daniel said nothing as he walked around his desk and stopped in front of me - a little too close for a colleague. “You can come back and collect it at the end of the day. Stay later tonight.. If you want it back, then you’ll know where to find me, hmm?” He said, his voice patronizing. Yet, quiet and … suggestive. He was so close, I could smell his cologne - a familiar fragrance from Jo Malone. He lifted his hand and I held my breath, ready for him to do something deranged, like brush back my hair or caress my cheek. Hell, he was close enough to lean in for a kiss.

 Instead, he looked over my shoulder at my watch on his wrist to check the time. “Well look at that.. It’s time to meet Miles Finch,” Daniel said with a quick smile as he stepped back to his desk to pick up some documents. According to the clock on his wall, he was right - ten minutes until 3pm. A few people from different departments even walked by Daniel’s office and into the elevator, clearly on their way to the meeting room. 

Daniel walked past me quickly and I followed behind to retrieve my own things from my office, just as he stopped and turned back.

“Hot dress, by the way, (y/ln),” He started, making my cheeks blush red. “With a neckline that low, I’m sure you won’t even need your notes in order to convince them.”

I gasped and tried to interject as he made his way out to the elevator. 

The meeting came and went, ending on a high note with Miles Finch agreeing to our proposed contract for his upcoming book series. It was truly a triumph; after weeks of hard work and preparation, it actually paid off. The entire meeting room filed out, talking happily and shaking hands with one another with a few minutes to spare before the end of the work day. I was approached numerous times by colleagues and representatives visiting from our New York location, congratulating me and Daniel on a job well done. As the building slowly emptied, I retreated back to my office and opened my computer to start on some extra work. I hadn’t forgotten about what Daniel said. And I certainly hadn't forgotten about my damned wristwatch. 

There were five separate invitations to go out for drinks with everyone from the meeting. And I really did wish to attend. Perhaps for a chance to earn a spot within Miles Finch’s good graces (he was said to be a difficult man to please), but I declined every single one. “Such hard workers, you and Mr. Cleaver are. You make an excellent team, I’m quite glad to have hired you.” Mr. Fitzherbert said when he heard that Daniel and I wished to stay late to ‘get ahead’ on the next big project. 

‘Oh yes,’ I thought to myself. ‘I'm sure we’ll be working very hard tonight.’ It was the only thought I had in my mind as the boss praised us. Checking my email for a final time before I got to work, I noticed a new message. The sender’s name made me sigh and curse as I clicked it open. 

 ‘45 minutes, floor will be empty. 

50 minutes, after George does his rounds, you know what to do.

-DC’

The wall clock ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace. A few times, I even caught myself instinctually turning my wrist to check the time, and cursing under my breath when I found nothing there. When the time finally arrived, George, the security guard walked casually past my glass-walled office. We exchanged polite waves and I watched him walk through the room and out, heading for the stairwell. I recognized my moment, and turned off my computer. I took my things as if I were ready to leave: packed my notebook and pen into my bag, gathered up my coat and scarf, and made the dreadful walk of shame to Daniel’s office door. I felt his eyes on me as I hesitated outside, wondering again if this was all really worth it. I knew I wasn’t just going to walk in, collect my trinket, and go. It would never be that easy with Daniel. 

“About time, (y/ln), took you long enough to finally open the door. Having second thoughts?” Daniel said, without looking up from his computer screen. 

“Actually, yes,” I confessed, putting my belongings down on the chair by the door. “Am I going to regret coming in here, Cleaver..?” I gave him a sincere look of worry. His expression visibly softened as he stood from his desk and walked over. He stopped in front of me, just like he had done earlier. Except this time, there was no one around to see us. No one to watch him do something deranged… like brushing back my hair, or caressing my cheek. Or..

“Daniel,” I whispered, pulling away when he leaned in. My hand went to his chest, ghosting against the bare skin where his dress shirt was left unbuttoned. “Please - don’t risk our positions, or our jobs, for this silliness.” Daniel responded with a soft smile as his hand went to my cheek, caressing it gently. 

“It’s only a problem if we’re caught, (y/n).” Daniel began, his other hand trailing slowly up my side and to my waist. He pulled me against him and I stumbled a little, falling against Daniel’s chest and fully into his arms - right where he wanted me. “And if we are, which we won’t be, I’ll take the blame. It’s my idea after all. I’ll risk my position and my job… not yours.”

Somehow, Daniel’s own version of a sacrifice was endearing enough to make me blush furiously. I opened my mouth to protest, just to be met with his thumb gliding gently over my bottom lip. “It’s alright, (y/n),” He whispered with an amused smile on his face. He winked and I couldn't help but return the smile. Daniel backed away briefly, pulling me by the arm to his desk where I settled against it. He resumed his place in front of me, pulling me back into his embrace. “I’ve got it all figured out… and I've got you.”

I felt myself physically relax at Daniel’s words - more relaxed than I’ve ever felt while being with him. I raised my eyebrows at his statement, sighing against his lips. “You always have everything figured out, don't you Daniel?” Before he could give me one of his clever responses, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. Just to shut him up. 

His hand settled on my hip, keeping me pinned against his desk. I let my own hands move up his chest, and over his shoulders. One hand rest on the back of his neck, while the other went up into his hair, getting tangled in his dark locks. He let out a moan against my lips, and I couldn't help my mischievous smile.

“Excuse my enthusiasm, (y/n),” Daniel began, pulling away only enough to form words. “But I have been fucking dying to get you like this since the day I met you.” It was my turn to be amused now. I smiled and bit my bottom lip, delighted to see him this flustered. “Oh, I can tell, Daniel,” The feeling of his growing erection against me was enough to know that he was serious. I let my hands fall from their work in his hair, dropping one to his shoulder and the other to the desk behind me. It rested beside Daniel’s left hand, my fingers ghosting over his. “To make a confession of my own, I’ve always found you rather attractive - hot as fuck, even. But your insufferable arrogance was often far to much for me to bear.” 

Daniel laughed against my neck as he dipped down to kiss the sensitive skin there, earning a breathy moan from me. I moved my hand from the desktop, gliding over his hand and to his wrist, where I felt the undeniable outline of my watch. I quickly moved my hand up, tightening around his forearm as he nipped at my neck, hoping he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Daniel…” I moaned to him, making him hold my waist tighter in response. My other hand slid off his shoulder and down his back to distract him while I began to remove my watch from his wrist. 

‘Almost…’ I thought and let out a sigh when I felt the leather strap slide from the small buckle. Daniel bit into my neck harder than he had before, and I gasped sharply. He paused, bringing his quest to cover me in love bites to a close. “Don’t stop, please,” I pleaded, nearly whining for him. Not only was I close to finally getting my watch back, but the physical contact actually felt too good to lose. I felt Daniel smirk against my lips as he pulled away from me completely, my hand drifting off his shoulder and lingering outstretched for him. 

“You almost had me, (y/n),” Daniel said while he fastened my watch back onto his wrist. “Don’t make me restrain you, (y/ln). Play fairly and you’ll get what you came here for.” 

I roll my eyes and groan, crossing my arms in front of me. “Fine, Daniel. What must I do to get my precious watch back?” Daniel put a hand to his heart and gasped. 

“You wound me, (y/n), honestly,” He paced to the side of the desk, leaning on it bringing our faces inches apart once again. “I had hoped that what you wanted from me wasn't just your watch.” 

“Daniel-” I scolded, as if he were a child. He was surely acting like one. He just laughed and held up his hands in surrender after taking a step away. “Alright, (y/ln), alright. I need you to do something for me. A favor, I suppose.” His voice dropped in volume as he finished. I chewed the inside of my lip, eyeing him cautiously. 

“Like what? Take over a project for you? Cover for you while you run off to some broom closet or storage room with one of the interns?” Daniel approached me with that damned smile on his face again. The one that first made my heart race. The one that could convince me to do anything. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d be running off with anyone other than you, (y/ln). But no, nothing like that,” He paused, seemingly thinking. His tongue traced his bottom lip as his eyes scanned over my face while his hand absentmindedly rubbed my thigh beneath my skirt. “Well, you are quite good with this mouth of yours.” 

My eyes widened and my lips parted in my shock. ‘Oh, surely not.’ 

“I don’t suppose you mean I have a chance of talking my way out of this?” I asked, trying desperately to avoid what I knew he was implying. Daniel shook his head, still enamored by me as he resumed his kissing along my jaw and down my neck. “Come now, (y/n), don’t play innocent. It’s a poor act, and it doesn't look good on you.” 

He kisses and roughly nips at a spot just below my jaw, making me crane my head back and sigh. He pulled away again and looked at me. I had never seen his blue eyes look so dark. 

‘No. No. No way. Tell him no, say-’

“Fine,” I nodded to Daniel’s desk chair, telling him to sit as I pulled my hair back. I bit my lip to hide a smile as he scrambled to take his seat. I stole a pen off his desk and stuck it into my makeshift updo, securing it in place. 

I left my spot on the front of the desk, rounding it to stand between Daniel’s legs. The outline of his cock was apparent even through his dark trousers as I lowered myself down between his legs. The only sounds for a moment were heavy breaths and Daniel’s zipper sliding down. He shifted in his seat, pushing his trousers down slightly. I took a breath and paused when I slid my fingers around the waistband of his underwear. I hesitated for a moment, making Daniel hum in amusement from above me. I looked up at him, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re really doing this, (y/n)?” He said, surely meaning to challenge me. His arm was propped by his elbow on the armrest of the desk chair. My Timex watch sat, still fastened to Daniel’s wrist, looking almost like it was meant to be there. The gold hardware glinted in the low lights in the office and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of Daniel Fucking Cleaver keeping one of my most treasured possessions forever. “Of course I am,” I say, settling onto my knees and slowly letting my hands slide under Daniel’s dress shirt, up and down the sides of his torso. “I want my fucking watch back.”

Daniel nodded and readjusted himself in his seat, leaning back like a king on his throne. “Go on then Miss (y/ln). Use that pretty mouth of yours… take what you came here for.” I smiled back and rolled my eyes, letting my gaze settle on Daniel and his endearing grin. “Yes, right away, Mr. Cleaver.”

I slid my fingers into his waistband again and pulled them, no hesitation this time. My eyes widened a bit when his cock sprang free from its constraints. He was admittedly very large. Daniel let out a groan as I took him in hand and licked his tip playfully. I continued my teasing, enjoying the sounds of Daniel nearly whimpering. 

“O-ohhh, (y/n).. enough of that, please.” He begged, dropping his left hand to my face. Daniel held my chin up with one, and with the other began to stroke his cock, positioning it in front of my mouth. “No more teasing if you want your watch back.” I nodded obediently, which pleased him. 

“Now, (y/n), if you’d be so kind, just- ohhh, fuck,” Happy to quiet him, I took him into my mouth, going as deep as I comfortably could. I breathed slowly and deliberately, ensuring that I didn’t choke too severely. 

I felt Daniel’s hand snake around to the back my neck and hold me, tangling into the hair at the base. I moaned as he began to guide my head back and forth; slowly and gently. I shut my eyes for a moment, focusing on my breathing again. He was so much … more than what I had experienced in the past, and I was not accustomed to it. 

I felt Daniel move his hand from my chin and I opened my eyes slowly. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his groans and whispers filling his office space. I pulled off his cock and trailed my tongue along the length of it, earning a hiss and a long moan of my name. I looked up again, hoping to catch his gaze and instead was met with the clockface of my watch on his wrist as his hand held the base of his cock. I stared at it before me, as I closed my lips around him again. 

‘He’s doing it on purpose, surely,’ I thought as his moans became a bit louder. 

“(y/n), fuck. I’m close, darling, so close-” Daniel groaned, his hold tightening on the back of my neck. I hummed and hollowed my cheeks as I took him, enjoying the sounds of his cries. 

I glanced up through my eyelashes and watched as he reached his climax, finishing into my mouth. I shut my eyes, swallowing what I could as Daniel’s hold on my neck loosened completely and his hand fell while he relaxed. 

“God, you are good Miss (y/ln). Fuck,” He groaned, fixing his clothes and redressing. I paused and patted his thigh gently, while I turned and spit the rest of his cum into the wastebin beneath his desk. Daniel watched as I casually stood and wiped at my mouth, rubbing off what remained of my lipstick. “Too much for you, darling?” He said, making me roll my eyes. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the chair’s armrests. My lips grazed Daniel’s tauntingly as I let my tongue glide over his bottom lip. “Is there anything else you require of me, Mr. Cleaver?” I asked with the best demure voice I could manage. 

Daniel groaned again, seemingly close to giving into me. “(y/n), darling…” He whispered, holding my face gently. “I thought I told you the innocent act isn’t your thing. Besides, as badly as I need to bend you over and fuck you on this desk, George’s next round is going to start soon and I’m confident that you don’t want him to find us like that.”

I stood and let him stand from his chair. “How do you know the security guard’s patrolling routine so well?” 

Daniel grinned. “My sweet, (y/n), why do you think?”

I didn’t give him an answer. Instead I scoffed at him and fixed the collar of my dress, crossing the room to pick up my belongings. “Oh, now I’ve earned the silent treatment have I?” Daniel leaned against his desk, watching me put on my scarf and coat. I failed to hide a smile when I watched him attempt to seem as though he wasn’t crying my name a moment ago. I crossed the room again, back over to Daniel and extended my hand wordlessly. He rolled his eyes and sighed, carefully removing the watch on his wrist. 

He lowered it into my palm and I nodded. “Thank y-,”

“On second thought,” Daniel began, cutting me off and pulling my watch away again. “I think I’ll hold onto it a little bit longer. Just until tomorrow evening, that alright, (y/ln)?”

My cheeks went warm while I watched him put the watch into his pocket and put on his own coat. I huffed, admittedly like a child, and crossed my arms. “Oh, was I not good enough?” I asked, a little too loudly. He shook his head. 

“Oh no, darling, you were wonderful. Too good for me to let this little game end right now. What do you say to … The Ritz? Tomorrow evening?” Daniel took his own things and walked to the door of his office. “I do owe you after all. I fear I’ve robbed you of a lovely night of drinks with our colleagues.”

I followed him out of the room and over to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. “I'd say I've never been,” I confessed. “You do know you can ask me out to dinner without holding my wristwatch hostage, right?”

Daniel shrugged, sliding his arm around my waist as we watched the numbers of the floors descend. “Sure, but this is just more fun,” He leaned down, his lips grazing against my ear as he whispered, making my chest tighten. “It’s like getting back at you for those revealing outfits you’ve been wearing here - especially that little miniskirt you have.” I shivered as his fingers made gentle circles on my waist. 

He lifted his head, and stood up straight just in time for the doors to open again. George was indeed on his second round of the empty building, having left the other security guard at the front desk. We waved goodbye and were met with a cold wind beyond the front doors of Pemberley Press, the flurries mentioned on the news this morning already making their appearance. I paused to button up my coat, as Daniel examined my Timex watch yet again. 

“You know, (y/ln), I really do think this watch suits me nearly as well as it suits you.” He said, putting it back into the pocket of his trousers. I rolled my eyes and faced him. “Oh sure. Perhaps once we’re all done here you can get one of your OWN.” I heard Daniel’s laugh echoing behind me as I walked away from him. As I reached my car, I got inside and started it up wondering how on earth I was going to explain this situation to Frankie when I called him on the phone at my apartment.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

I hope you all enjoyed!! Potentially scheming a Part II at some point, but please let me know what you think!