#but still UGH be better!!! know your audience!!!

[gilverrwrites]

The Tim Drake sex pollen fic is so fucking good!!!!!

it makes me think of a similar scenario with the other Bats...

like maybe this time you're the one who's affected and Bruce is there to watch you and encouraging you to touch yourself because he knows it'll help. But you're like "No way, I'm not doing that with you right here!!" and he's like "I can turn around." and you're like "You won't be watching me through the cameras? 🤨" because you both know he'll insist on keeping an eye on you, not even for horny reasons at first, just to make sure you're ok.

But then you get more desperate and eventually give in and start touching yourself even though you know Bruce can see you, but maybe that's making it even better and maybe you start begging him to touch you and UGH just. sorry it's just such a delicious scenario. <33

I actually have a re-occurring fantasy about Bruce getting infected by some kind of sex toxin/pollen that makes him go bull in a china-shop levels of feral which I’f love to share. But I’ve never considered it the other way around, anon you saucy little minx, I love this. ♥︎ Warnings: exhibitionism/voyeurism | teasing | dub-con (by the nature of sex pollen)

Undressing and allowing Bruce to see you stripped completely bare was bad enough. You couldn’t put it off any longer though, your skin felt, still feels like it’s ablaze. But as the debilitating level of pain in your gut continued to sear throughout your veins it was becoming harder and harder to resist the inevitable. What’s worse is, there was no place to hide your shame, no corner you could crawl into and relieve yourself in without giving him a show.

“I’ll only be checking on you to make sure you’re okay.” He’d told you with that booming voice, inadvertently causing a shockwave of arousal to roll through your already severely aching core. You could tell he’d tried not to, but he couldn’t resist letting those brilliant blues roam over your nude form. The tiny bit of rationale you had left told you he was just examining you from a medical standpoint; the look was purely professional. But the rest of you, every nerve, every inch of untouched fevered skin called out for him to keep looking. To open that door and devour you six ways to Sunday. The fantasy of Bruce, sturdy and brooding, losing his composure as he pins you beneath his formidable frame and drives his cock into your needy hole is what you’re lost in as you finally take the plunge and delve your fingers between your legs.

You’d thought your body was overheating, but your wet walls are scorching as you begin to fuck yourself, no longer caring about your surroundings, or the one man audience as you get lost in the relief, in the chase. You know it’s going to feel so good when you find it, you just need more. Need to feel full.

Bruce relentlessly taps his fingertips on the desk at a speed The Flash would struggle to match as he watches you. How your dark and swollen pussy swallows up your two fingers. Then a third, and a fourth and no matter how much he tries to will his body, he can’t keep from watching. Can’t stop thinking about how good your wet walls would feel as he fucks you with all his might. Can’t fight the way his dick throbs as he recognises the curve of your lips. Your cries are muted by the cell but he knows you’re calling his name.

He’s smart enough to know it’s because you’re thinking of him. Wishing it were him splitting you open and filling you up. He wishes it were him too, and that’s why he deliberately misinterprets your pleas as a cry for help. Hurrying to your cell door so he can press down on the comms link and hear your vulgar cries first-hand.

BZZT. “B-b BRUCE PLEASE.” He’s grateful he hasn’t removed his cape yet, allowing him to use it as a shield to hide how he palms his restless cock through his Kevlar tights. “pleasefuckmebrucefuckmefuckmefuckmepleasebruce.”

“Please what?” He pretends not to have overheard your quiet chanting. It’s mean, he knows it, teasing you with his presence, knowing he can’t give you what you want. But it is worth it to see the carnality of your gaze as your lids dart open. Soaking him in as you fuck your weeping cunt even harder. “What do you need?”

“I need you, Bruce.” Your voice is so low, coming from the bottom of your chest as you struggle to get your words out clearly, cracking and shaking in time your thrusts.

“Need me to what?” Your back sharply arches against the floor, your toes curling into the air in response to him. If only you were this agreeable in the field he thinks, but then again, he quite likes you in the position you’ve gotten yourself into. “Tell me exactly how you want me to help you.”

[threeawfulfruits]

Btw yall I finally took the jump and watched Elemental last night because it had despite all odds been praised pretty consistently post-release by people whose opinions I respect - and everyone was RIGHT!!!

Despite the poor marketing and the absolutely uninspired, cliche, cringy trailer, this film was freaking PRECIOUS and IMPORTANT. In the first five minutes it made more strides talking about the immigrant experience and the connected cultural prejudice than entire documentaries. The importance of representation has never been more clear in a kid-friendly film - when no one solves the issues plaguing a community because no one FROM that community exists in a place of power high enough to make them known and make a difference, those issues become standard and suffering perpetuates. Bitterness and distance increases. They did great talking about privilege and culturally hostile infrastructure, and how socioeconomic differences affect how people see and experience and move through the world. How there doesn’t have to be malice for real, lasting harm to be done, just ignorance and oversight.

Language barriers. Cultural and religious differences. Different goals and structures of support within families. The small-town solidarity of ethnic communities within large cities. The role of nostalgia. Talent and creativity and how that is nurtured based on priorities and the privileges we are born with/without. Generational trauma. Tokenism and fetishization. The universality of prejudice from every direction. MICROAGGRESSIONS.

And the characters!!! We love an emotionally stunted woman who has zero CSR skills - Ember is a disaster in a really uncommon way. I love it. And Wade is the sweetest lil puddle of empathy I’ve ever seen!!! My emotionally constipated ass felt some of his lines like a literal stab through the chest, he’s so sincere and compassionate at every turn and it’s both alarming and disarming. Talk about a soft boi who is also WHOLESOME and OBSERVANT. Wow. (Also I’ve been obsessed with Mamoudou Athie since I first saw him in Unicorn Store a few years ago - Black Box, Oh Jerome No, Archive 81, he’s SO good - and so is his VOICE ACTING!!! Whoa my dude)

[harrysfolklore]

spill your guts or fill your guts

all i have to say is, i miss this man so much

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

When Harry told you that the Late Late Show asked him to do the 'Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts' segment with you as the guest, you didn't think twice before accepting the invitation.

However, as you sat in front of a table full of plates with bizarre and disgusting food, your boyfriend in front of you ready to ask you uncomfortable questions and cameras rolling catching your every reaction, you started to regret considering it in the first place.

"How are you feeling about this?" Harry asked when the cheers and applause died down, giving you his million dollar smile that made everyone drool over him.

"I can't believe I agreed to do this." You said shaking your head as you adjusted your top, giving a nervous smile to the audience.

Harry turned his head to the camera before speaking, "This is our first time, playing the game I mean," he smirked for a second, making the audience cheer and shake your head again, "And the last time we will do it also, right love?" and the blush didn't fail to appear in your cheeks at the pet name, because no matter how long you and Harry had been together, he could still make you blush like the first time.

"Right, indeed," you nodded your head, "Let's take a look at the food we have on the table."

"Okay so, we have Bug Trifle," Harry said and the audience instantly let out a collective sound of disgust, "Yeah ew," he mimicked making you laugh and he smiled slightly because your nerves were slowly fading away, "Jellyfish," the audience groaned again and Harry couldn't help himself before he mimicked them one more time "Yeah, ugh!" you laughed again as he continued naming the food for the game, that consisted in giant water scorpion, 1,000 year old eggnog, cow blood and pork tongue jelly, cod sperm, salmon smoothie and bull penis. 

"So I'll ask the first question, the producers have not shown us these ahead of time, and before I choose the food you'll have to eat I want to say something," Harry paused to look at the camera for a minute before turning to you again, "I love you babe, I consider myself a good boyfriend, and I hope I'm still a good boyfriend after this," the audience erupted in cheers and howls, and the blush rushed into your cheeks again, "That being said, let's start with the 1,000 year old eggnog."

"Nooo!" you couldn't help but squeal when the food was placed in front of you, "You know I love you too but you might end up taking the couch tonight!" Harry chuckled and the audience laughed along with him, "Is the cinnamon supposed to make this any better?" you grabbed the cinnamon stick making a disgusted face at the drink.

"Give it a sniff." Harry spread his arms as it was the most obvious thing.

"Why?" you asked but sniffed the drink anyway, "Oh my god! That's disgusting!" Harry laughed and you felt the urge to throw up without even tasting it yet.

"Come on love, It's gonna be fine," Harry sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes with affection, "Ready?" 

"No! But let's get this over with."

"Okay," Harry said as he grabbed the card to read the first question, and when he let out a devilish laugh you knew you were in for a ride, "You are great friends with the girls from BlackPink, you have been on tour together and released multiple collaborations, rank the members Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo and Rosé."

He finished the question and the audience erupted in screams and cheers, it was no secret that you and the BlackPink girls were the best of friends and they were dying to hear your answer.

You grabbed the cup and moved it close to your face scrunching your nose at the smell, "Hold on, I think I can answer it," Harry raised his brow and tilted his head at you before you continued, "I mean, I love all of them so much, and this doesn't mean I love any of them any less, It's just based on how close-"

"Drink the eggnog." Harry interrupted your rant making the audience laugh.

"Noooo!" you protested, refusing to drink the beverage, "Okay, it would be like, Jennie, Rosé, Jisoo and Lisa."

You said quickly and instantly covered your face in embarrassment, even thought the girls would understand that it's all part of the game.

"Whoo!" Harry said laughing and putting an amused face, "That was controversial, love."

"Oh shut up, It's your turn."

"Alright, now you choose something for me that I would have to eat." 

"I'll do the sperm." you said turning the table to place the food in front of him.

"Okay."

"Here you go."

"Okay." he said again and the crowd laughed for a minute.

"Just so all you know, this is exactly how an argument between us looks like, me yelling like a maniac and him just saying okay," the audience laughed again and Harry just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright," you said before clearing your throat and grabbing the card with his question, "Oh I'm dying to know this," your smirked before continuing, "Which songs on your One Direction albums are about me?"

Harry instantly covered his eyes and started laughing at the question, over the years fans have speculated about songs by the band were about you, since Harry confirmed he had a crush on you ever since you were on tour together.

With the crowd cheering and your expectantly look on him, Harry grabbed the napkin that was on the table to put it on his neck and try to cut the cod sperm, "Sooo, I would say track number-"

"No! Answer it or eat it!" you interrupted him and he had no other choice but to grab a piece with the fork that instantly made him make a disgusted face.

"Just don't look at it."

"Oh yeah, that fixes everything. Just don't look at it!" Harry sassed at you, "What we doing?" he looked at the camera almost in disbelief.

"This was your idea! Now go," and with a final look at you, he put the cod sperm on his mouth and started chewing it, looking directly at the camera as he did it.

"Just swallow it, why do you keep chewing on it."

"To spit or to swallow, that is the question," and the crowd broke down in laughs again at his cheekiness as he spit the cod sperm on the bucket beside him, "Really carries an aftertaste, fancy a kiss, love?" he tried to stand up and you stopped him immediately.

 "Nope! No kissing until we wash our mouths properly!"

"Okay so, I'll give you the salmon smoothie now."

And if Harry wasn't your boyfriend that you loved him so much and you weren't on live television, you swore you could murder him on the spot for giving you the food that you hated the most.

"Why are you doing this to me? You know I hate salmon."

"Come on love, I'm putting you up for a challenge," you rolled your eyes and he smiled before grabbing the card with your question, "Okay, you were part of Versace's newest campaign alongside some of the most popular supermodels in the world, who was the most unlikable out of all of them?"

"I have the answer. I can't say it, though," and without further notice, you grabbed the glass and took a big gulp of the salmon smoothie, feeling disgusted when the flavor hit your tongue and grabbing a glass of water to erase the aftertaste.

"Watching you drink that made me feel sick." Harry handed you his napkin and you wiped your mouth as you looked around the table to choose the next food for him.

"Okay, I'll give you the bug trifle," you grabbed the card with the question, "We have been dating for three years now, do you see yourself dating me for another three years?" 

"That's easy, yes," he shrugged and the audience went nuts at his confession, and your cheeks were blushing again as your heart melted.

"You're such a sap, and on national television too!" you teased him and he srugged again.

"I'm just a boy who's in love, can you blame me?" The crowd awed and you rolled your eyes as you encouraged him to give you your next food.

"I think we're going to go with bull penis," he cheekily smiled for a moment, "Yeah, bull penis. You ready?"

"No, but you could go."

"It's just bull penis," he said as he grabbed the next card, and when he read what was on it he instantly let out a mischievous laugh that made you nervous about what was coming, "Okay, who is the most surprising celeb to ever slide into your DMs?"

"Who is he?" Harry yelled after a few minutes of silence from you and you laughed at his antics, "That's information I must know, babe."

"I feel like I can say it, right?"

"You're telling me who was it off camera anyway, so?"

"Shut up!" you paused for a moment to think about if you should whether or not reveal that the most surprising celebrity that tried to hit on you via Instagram was no other than Liam Payne, your boyfriend's former bandmate, even tho he knew that you and Harry were happily in a relationship and you couldn't be less interested.

 "I think I'm eating the penis," deciding to be a nice person and not embarrass him on national television, you said and grabbed a piece of it to put in your mouth, "Oh my god! That was disgusting."

You grabbed the bucket beside you and threw the piece in as Harry laughed.

"Just so we're clear, however was that bloke, I hope you know she's taken, by me." Harry shrugged and gave the camera an innocent look.

"For your last question I'm giving you... the scorpion thing," you read his question and it was your turn to give him a devilish look, "Between Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn rank their solo-"

And before you could even finish the question, Harry already had the giant scorpion on his mouth, making you, the audience on set and his thousands of fans watching at home scream and laugh.

He spat on the bucket after chewing for a minute, took a big gulp of water and wiped his mouth before turning to the camera to wrap up the segment.

"That was 'Spill your guts or fill your guts', we'll be right back with more of the Late Late Show!"

[mourninglamby]

god it's so nice to see your takes on things genuinely

As flawed as it is, i think dsmp is still an incredibly interesting and unique narrative about abuse, how it affects different people, and how it's spread and normalised. It's not a satisfying or clean narrative by any means, but i still think that it approaches its themes in a way that's fundamentally different than any other form of media and it's still worth it to spend time analysing it.

i don't know if the fact that actual abusers worked on it has anything to do with it (i would hazard a guess and say yes, but i digress), but oftentimes it genuinely feels like a look into the internal machinations of abusers, and i think it can make people more aware of the warning signs. and good analysis is the #1 way to actually bring that lesson to the surface, since the story wasn't written with that moral in mind but just stumbled onto it.

so, thank you for giving this smpand its story the time of day, i think that it's genuinely something that's worth doing and it's nice to see someone put themselves out there like you do (since i know how a lot of fans are), have a lovely day!

Ugh this is all worded soooo perfectly. This story is truly the most unique look into abuse and it never even used to word …….forgive the long tangent I’m about to go on but it’s important!! I know there is a bigger conversation to be had, particularly about the meta and the way Tommy played ctommy/how he interacted with the adults on the server, which greatly influenced the delivery of the abuse plotline. Tom Simons played Ctommy epistemologically, so the characters’ knowledge, for the most part, extended only as far as his did. Which created a devastating story ! Especially concerning cwilbur!

I wanna actually talk abt how the word “abuse” was never used, despite it permeating thru the entire narrative. This was on purpose of course. Tommy The Guy was 16. His outlook on abuse and the nuances of it likely weren’t developed enough for him to ever really understand what was happening to his character until it was too late. And in that vein, Clayton Ray Huff and william gold also didn’t think harder about the harm they caused not just Tommy, but everyone else they hurt irl. And I’ll never forget Tommy’s cry for justice before that HORRIBLE ending, saying in his twitch chat that “cdream drove ctommy to suicide!” Or when he told his chat they were Also being manipulated by c!dream, after his first prison visit. It’s so complicated and so difficult to talk about, but it’s absolutely necessary when the story itself never really…. Understood the topic it was portraying. The level of abuse apologism and victim blaming present in this fanbase had such an awful effect on me and my friends, and again, that was intentional. Send the audience they curated to silence any conversation that might allude to blaring red flags. BUT! I’m in a better headspace to discuss the intricacies of its harm and how it failed, and simultaneously investigate how it managed to be so Real.

As for the story being written by a handful of actual abusers … well……. It’s no wonder it ended like a punch to the throat. Absolute horse shit spun from the mouths of men who know what they are, and want to keep being that way. Wilbur thinks he can just Leave for a while and everything would go back to normal. Dream thought he could Start Over so that no ACTUAL consequences would ever reach him. They learn NOTHING because they don’t believe they have to. It’s sick. But it’s always necessary to remember when analyzing the train wreck of an ending both men concocted. Dsmp failed as damage control because they played abusers in that story too. And abusers don’t think they’ve done anything wrong. Completely incapable of introspection.

Okay I’ve talked enough lmfao but . I’m rly thankful I get to receive anons like this … I do not think I’m the smartest person by a long shot and seeing other people articulate these thoughts and introduce me to new things has been very healing and validating. It’s much better than the ppl who would flat out deny it or harass me lol.

[bloodweep]

HIHI! DO YOU WRITE FLUFF? YOURE LIKE ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS ON TUMBLR SO I WANTED TO ASK🤭 IF YOU DO, I WAS JUST THINKING ABT BROZONE (OR JUST JD) WITH A READER WHO ALSO MAKES MUSIC? YOU CAN HAVE THE HCS TURN OUT HOWEVER YOU WANT I JUST HAD THAT GENERAL IDEA🙏🏽🙏🏽

OKFG PLEASE IM NOT THAT GOOD

And yes I do 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 it makes me so happy and giggly like the bitch I am jfjfhfhfhfh

YOU KNOW MY HEART IS GONNA GO TO JD FIRST I WANT HIM IN EVERY WAY I CAN

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

JOHN DORY:

‗ ❍ I love him so much but I just know he would be a bit of an asshole at first, far better than before, don’t get me wrong! But he will still ask what you’re going and provide “tips” to make it better, but will be quickly silenced if you glared at him

‗ ❍ he is literally the definition of “oh I hate that man, I hate that man! But oh cara mia how I love him”

‗ ❍ after a while he would be silent and just listen to you, he would highly enjoy your music btw

‗ ❍ would get stuck in his head constantly where he is humming it wherever he is, bobbing his head to the beat

‗ ❍ would so just hold you close, arm around your shoulders watching you write away, nuzzling into your hair

‗ ❍ would beg to have a duet with you, no lie, will literally beg on all fours to have one

‗ ❍ UGH ITS STUPID BUT HE WOULD SO GRAB TOU AROUNF THE HIPS AND PULL YOU ALONG THE ROOM TO DANCE

‗ ❍ he would hold you so tight and kiss along your head while he sways with you and sings

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Bruce:

‗ ❍ he would be so fun to write songs with, so attentive, leaned back and just listening

‗ ❍ wouldn’t say anything until you were finished and asked for tips

‗ ❍ “play it again” he would say just so he can hear your voice again and listen to the melody

‗ ❍ he would do this a few times before you caught on and playfully punched his knee

‗ ❍ he would just laugh and shake his head “nothing needs to be changed it’s wonderful ”

‗ ❍ he would so sing the songs you make while surfing too

‗ ❍ he’s your number one biggest fan, will fight anyone to get that position

‗ ❍ he will be the loudest person in the audience and dancing in the crowd

‗ ❍ sings it for his kids any song you create

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Clay:

‗ ❍ he’s such a little nerd, would be vibing to anything so hard

‗ ❍ he will fight whoever even if it’s his own brothers to be the number one fan

‗ ❍ he would so teach you how to dance to whatever you’re writing

‗ ❍ his hands holding your hips to help you move better

‗ ❍ begs to hear you sing all the time because he likes it so so much

‗ ❍ makes up all your choreography for you, and isn’t upset if you desire to change it

‗ ❍ he would so so beg to dance with you on stage at least once (he’s a lair all the time he wants to dance with you forever)

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Floyd:

‗ ❍ He would be so happy to see you write and create music

‗ ❍ he would relax back and listen with such a peaceful smile on his face

‗ ❍ he would so love to do duets with you too

‗ ❍ they would be so soft and gentle; you’re very mindful of what happened to him and don’t want to push him to hurt himself - even if he says he’s fine and can handle whatever

‗ ❍ holds your hands while you practice with him, showing you his full attention and encouraging you whenever you stumble or feel like you can’t get something right

‗ ❍ UGH his smile will be so fucking soft and gentle as he looks at you

‗ ❍ when he watches you from the crowd he is just smiling and dancing slightly the whole time

‗ ❍ UGH tells you how proud he is of you all the time, and you deserve all the fans and happiness

‗ ❍ if he ever preforms with his brothers he definitely invites you in and puts you right next to him - holding your hand tightly the whole time

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

‗ ❍ GOSH that stupid look he gives when he really loves someone??? That look the whole time

‗ ❍ fully understands if you don’t feel comfortable singing with him or in front of him just yet

‗ ❍ or even if you just want to do it on stage only

‗ ❍ if you feel self conscious about a song he will preform it with you and his brothers so you feel better

‗ ❍ never ever tells you to change it because there’s no such thing as “perfect” and a song is what is felt from within - things no such thing to be perfect

‗ ❍ every time you do sing in front of him he will drop everything he’s doing and listening to you

‗ ❍ he’s so giddy to hear you sing but doesn’t go over the top to stress you out

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Im sorry it’s so short I struggle with sfw for some reason because fluff makes me so giddy and excited and I feel gushy

[phi4mars]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a velvet x fem reader where the reader is a solo artist and is number one and her and velvet are super competitive with eachother? if possible could you also have the reader and velvet be exes that had a pretty nasty breakup and they flirt a lot and is obvious that they still have feelings for eachother? if not that's ok thank you so much !!

yess ofc omg, sorry guys if i reply to requests awhile after you send them in, i blame this on time zones 😒.

this is probably going to be so bad so i warn, i will get better hopefully i just need to learn how to get back into my fanfic roots.

anyways thankyou for your request!! i really appreciate it!!

misunderstood

꧁………….꧂

a few months ago every social network exclaimed the news of y/n becoming the top artist by passing velvet and veneer. the media suspected this would affect the relationship between y/n and the female artist velvet. and oh boy it did.

after this event the rivalry between the two increased significantly, leading velvet to suspect y/n of using her for fame and thinking their whole relationship was a plan for her to become number 1. an argument broke out which led the two artists to go their separate ways. this wasn’t a thing y/n or velvet wanted even though it seemed like it. emotions lead their actions.

now in the present time y/n and velvet would still get questioned in their interviews about each other, some questions are about the breakup and some are just personal questions like “was she a good kisser”. when these questions get asked both of them turn into a flustered mess. it was obvious feelings were still there.

it was now the night where y/n would get her award for being top artist. velvet and veneer would be attending which made y/n a bit anxious.

“what if she hates me and won’t talk to me?” y/n asked her assistant as they were backstage in the dressing room getting ready.

“y/n i’m sure if you talk to her and explain that this wasn’t to hurt her and it was all so unexpected she will understand” her assistant replied shooting her a smile.

“ugh this is so hard, i just want her to still like me” y/n whined as her assistant made the final adjustments to her outfit.

“go out there and be a star” was the last thing y/n heard before being pushed on stage.

the audience roared as y/n walked out, her eyes landed on the person who was meant to give her the award. velvet. her heart skipped a beat as she stood next to her ex. the pair locked eyes awkwardly. velvet then carefully put the award in y/n’s hands not breaking eye contact. the tension between them was unsettling. they both were stiff but red faced.

“thankyou” y/n mouthed to velvet who returned an eye roll.

“thankyou so much, i couldn’t have done it without all you guys and i am so grateful for everyone who has led me here tonight.” y/n exclaimed smiling. velvet eyed her then left the stage.

after y/n left the stage a party was being held. y/n was making her way to the bar then suddenly felt a cold hand grab her wrist.

“oh hi again” she awkwardly said as she looked at velvet.

“congratulations” velvet said sharply while looking intensely at the girl.

“thank you” y/n replied as she pushed back a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

velvet turned to leave but y/n quickly stopped her.

“velvet, look i know you hate me but i’m really sorry i didn’t know this would happen and i feel so bad and please forgive me i never-“ she got interrupted with and two hands grabbing her face and pulling her in, the kiss lasted a few seconds then velvet pulled away.

“i should be the one that’s sorry, i took everything so personally, i miss you so much and i regret everything” she told y/n.

“i miss you too” y/n replied as they intertwined their hands and walked to the bar together. the famous couple had made up and probably made out after.

꧁………….꧂

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Radioactive Apocalypse

The constant upset and warring provinces have prepared the world for the worst. Before the blowout, many thought it wise to pay for a bunker for the oncoming atomic apocalypse. Most of the population couldn’t afford to do so, let alone believe that it would be needed. 

They’d be wrong.

Whether you are one of the unsuspecting public or a passive believer, average day life doesn’t have you safely tucked in a bunker when the initial alarms go off. You are smooshed against others in a large crowd all watching and listening in awe. But the moment one person screams it's all over. The crowd twists and turns pulling you in no specific direction. As the final alarms ring out an arm pulls you through the chaotic crowd and into a bunker full of others reeling at the recent events. So here you find that you are trapped safely in the stifling and well-furnished  Atomic Bunker. 

“Who pulled me in here?”

“Does it matter! You survived the initial blast, didn’t you? Ungrateful twat.”

“No need to be hostile, little brother. It's natural to be vexed after watching the world end. Right in front of you.”

“Oh, all those poor souls!”

“My lady, your handkerchief.”

“My baby! My baby! I didn’t grab them! Oh, my poor baby!”

“There there, we’re all very shaken up—”

“B-b-b-but y-y-y-your still smiling—.”

“We are all dealing with the pain in different ways. But let's all take a breather and relax.”

“You don’t sound all that upset to me either.”

“I can say the same thing to you, but I guess you’re just happy to be off the streets, right?’

“Oi!”

Hearing the cacophony of such a colorful cast distracts from the initial fear. Their voices remind you that you're not suffering like the rest of those unfortunate people. They allow you to cry with an audience of fellow mourners and those who can keep calm easily. Before you can let the silence set in, they pull you back with their bickering. It's always either one or two of them that is always voicing their concerns. There’s always a voice of reason, something you’re grateful for as you desperately search for a distraction. 

“Everyone! I believe introductions are in order! I am the middle child of the Penz household as well as the main manager of the bunker.”

With a blonde head of hair and a funky sense of style, his smile persists. Uvil Penz is an interesting guy as you’ll come to find. Aside from smiling during the ongoing onslaught of atomic warfare he always has a way of looking on the bright side for better or worse. 

“Oh, my baby!” 

“Now please miss dry your tears, there are plenty of toys down here to distract yourself with.”

His optimism is surely unique as you can’t quite place where it may stem from. On one hand, you could see it as an unemotional response with an attempt to soothe. But you’ll see him laugh genuinely or offer insight into a person’s emotions. On the other hand, it may come from a sly condescending perspective. It fits right along with his brothers’ behavior. But the way he works to compliment you often, attempting to keep your spirits high, or how he’ll make a request for your favorite foods to be scavenged makes you think otherwise. 

“(Y/n)?”

“Huh? Uh yeah?”

“Did ya know: you’re gorgeous even with those tear streaks on your face.”

“What?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I think you really needed to hear that now.”

Or maybe that’s just you because you have a hard time believing Uvil trying to be soothing when he’s smiling widely after making someone cry. But it's hard to be decisive about liking or disliking the blonde as he could very well be the one who grabbed your wrist and pulled you in. On top of that, he allows everyone to stay even as opportunity knocks on the bunker door. As long as you don’t mind his ever-present smile and disconnected sympathy life will be great.

“I, Uvil Penz welcome you to the Penz bunker. Now little brother, go on. Introduce yourself.”

“Eugh! Get off me! Ugh, my name’s William and I know this bunker better than anyone else. So better learn to respect me!” 

He’s certainly not like his brother. At least not on the surface. With black short hair and a disgusted sneer constantly on his face. He doesn’t bother comforting anyone at least not in the typical way. Any advice or comfort is said through gritted teeth or with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Look, if yer gonna keep crying do it in one of the soundproof rooms. You're bothering those of us who want to think!”

Not to mention he’s the first to point out your insecurities or make fun of you for grieving at all. Don’t worry you’re not the only one, he goes just as hard if not harder on everyone else. Making sure everyone is well aware that the whole group knows of their problems. Usually snickering or outright laughing at whoever he’s decided to victimize. At one point, everyone will be annoyed with him. As much as he loves to boast about it he is the only one who knows how to maintain the bunker. 

“Gosh, you are such a pain in the–”

“Don’t forget who knows how to start up the generator…so unless you want to enjoy life without lights, you’ll put your fists down.”

“Ugh! Fine.”

“Thank you…meathead.”

“YOU LITTLE-”

Despite his arrogance, his snarky jabs, and the weirdly endearing way he seeks you out the atomic apocalypse wouldn’t be the same without him. For as annoying and degrading as he may be, he’s still willing to share his switch with you when you’re feeling particularly bored. Making sure you can’t see his face when he pokes the controller against your cheek. 

“Come on. You’re bored aren’t you?”

“You…want me to play with you?”

“Well duh! So…are you?”

“I-I’d love to!”

Not to mention he knows the cheat codes to all the games in the arcade room. And if you do him small favors he’ll share his limited edition ramen with you. Now he may ask for your undergarments or your toothbrush but that’s nothing in the endless days spent in the bunker. After all, it's better than the atomic aftermath out there and according to the only Penz willing to go out there, you wouldn’t last a day.

“Well, my introduction’s done. Marc!”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sup everyone. I’m Marco.”

The eldest of the Penz brothers is concerningly nonchalant from the very beginning of your stay in the bunker. With his girlfriend on his arm and an easy-going attitude, he doesn’t really bother to comfort anyone other than her. Except maybe you. 

“Hey didn’t take you for a late-night snacker. You okay?”

“I’m—fine, excuse me.”

“Whoa whoa, lil’ bunny. Don’t run away just yet, the wolf has questions.”

“Please just–I’ll go back to the room.”

“Nah-ah sit bunny.”

“But you took the only chair.”

“Right here, bunny. We’ve got all night.”

Supposedly, he was quite the womanizer before he got with his current girlfriend. Will makes a point to mention it anytime anyone you is found flustered or flattered by his attention. Even so, he doesn’t let that stop him from caging you against the bunker walls to ask for something. Or teasing you when he retrieves something from outside the bunker. 

“Come on just grab it.”

“Why are you holding it there? Just hand it to me normally!”

“So rude. I don’t feel like complying with a fussy bunny who doesn’t use their words.”

“Ugh! Fine. Please just hand it to me normally.”

“Ha no.”

“WHY NOT?!”

“It’s perfectly fine just grab it, babe. I don’t mind if you touch me along the way.”

For all his teasing and carefree behavior, he’s a good scavenger. Able and willing to brave the atomic wasteland when the bunker needs supplies. He’s strong and prepared to take on any unruly travelers who come by or intervene during scavenger hunts. 

He’s not all that opinionated when it comes to debates in the bunker. More excited to grab a snack and watch the chaos unfold. Smiling lightly as things get heated and tensions rise. In that way, he’s like an idle NPC but the second his boundaries are crossed then you have to deal with the rare and angry Will. 

“C-calm down Will…y-your not going to k-kill him right?”

“He’s the one who thought inviting our bunker-mates to play in that wasteland was a good idea.”

“Honey, it’s okay! (Y/n) didn’t actually go, right? So it’s okay, right Fin?”

“Yes, my lady is correct.”

It’s just better for everyone that no one gets on his bad side. And that everyone doesn’t mess with the things that make him happy: His peace, his girlfriend's peace, and your peace the happiness of specific bunker mates.

“Oh yeah, this my girl.”

“Um hello everyone. My name is Aria, Aria Mensloth. Marco was the one who brought me here.”

“Lucky you, I bet he’s the only one willing.”

“...Oh uhm yes I am quite grateful. I hope we can all get along.”

Aria is the sheltered blue-haired girlfriend of the eldest Penz brother. Opposites attract because, despite his immense uncaring personality, she’s generally more caring. Trying to check up on everyone she can even if her privileged life brings more misunderstandings than intended. 

“You seem upset, is it perhaps because you skipped breakfast this morning?”

“Uh no.”

“Oh well, for me this is a bigger change from the usual three-course breakfast I’m used to.”

“Okay…”

“Do you not know what that is like?”

She has the best intentions but she’s still learning. Too bad for her the ones in this bunker she is familiar with don’t bother correcting her or informing her unless directly asked. Her boyfriend would sooner chuckle and play with her hair than fill in the blanks. Her butler refuses to say much else than what is needed. So guess who she decides to attach herself to? You, of course. You're the most normal lovely bunker mate around and you don’t immediately insult her when she seeks to shadow you as you navigate your life in the bunker. 

“Ah, so you pick your own clothes out. How fascinating!” 

“Uhm Aria don’t you do the same?”

“Oh no, my butler picks everything out for me. It’s always been that way.”

“Oh…Would you want to try picking out your own clothes, sometime?”

“For myself? Oh no, I’m far too inexperienced….but maybe I could help pick out your outfits!”

“Wait–”

“Does that sound like a good idea, Butler Fin? Can we do it?”

“I see no problem with that my lady.”

“Oh good!”

As Will’s girlfriend, she’s an important person to keep happy. Wouldn’t want to deny her, especially when her beloved boyfriend is working so hard for the rest of the bunker. Not to mention her butler with an ominous gaze who is more than willing to exact her every wish. No matter how invasive it is to your privacy. You’ll have to be careful with your words. Wouldn’t want to make her cry...right?

“Aria, don’t.”

“Ari! Call me Ari!” 

“Ari sorry okay! I just don’t want to bathe with you, so please get off.”

“Y-you’re not trying to leave me, are you?! Didn’t Uvil tell us not to waste any supplies!? So please let me join!”

For as pushy as Aria can be, calling her out on her behavior or offering to tattle on her to her boyfriend usually gets her off your back. But where she lacks persistence, her butler makes up for it. 

“Hello everyone, I am the Mensloth Butler Finster. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Finster or Fin, is like any depiction of a dutiful butler come to life. Even with the threat of the atomic apocalypse, he’s still maintaining his mistress throughout. He doesn’t talk much outside of responding to Aria and occasionally the Penz brothers. 

“...”

“Look butler-man, if you’re goin’ to make breakfast why not feed us all?”

“...”

“Butler Fin.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Can you make breakfast for Will, (Y/n), and me?”

“Yes, of course, my lady.”

“Wow….really?!”

You’ll find when he’s alone he can speak without addressing his mistress only when he wants to. But he seems to enjoy your company, especially during the night cycle when Aria is fast asleep. He smiles openly with you, cracking jokes about the day he appeared numb to before. 

“Well, it seems as though you were right about them. Fighting with each other like chickens in a coop.”

“Right? I thought I’d be the only one who noticed.”

“Please your observations are hardly wrong, it helps that we can talk like this with each other. Helps us remember how to communicate. I really appreciate that you’re willing to.”

“Oh uh, no problem I like talking to you too..”

“No, thank you (Y/n). I doubt I could hold any level of sanity if it weren’t for you.”

When push comes to shove, he is capable of holding his own in a debate. His actions can be interpreted as that of a selfless and devoted butler. But it can also be read as that of someone with their own agenda—something practically impossible to decipher by his behavior alone.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for (Y/n) to leave the bunker, either.”

“Y-your actually s-s-speaking? On your own?”

“Well, I bet it’s only because he wants his master lady to not cry like a baby!”

“Was that your intention, Finnster?”

“...My lady, is my top priority at all times.”

It’s a nice illusion though, that he’d be a somewhat normal character, considering he’s often the only one whom you can hold a normal conversation with, without walking away thinking he’s obsessed with you. But his actions do. Oftentimes, watching his behavior without his explanation would make anyone worry.

“Excuse me?”

“I just wanted to ask about you pushing Aria that one time. Why would you do that?”

“Push? Push?! Oh no you’ve got it all wrong, I was attempting to support her back as we looked at the sewer. She did lose her footing but as you saw Marco and I caught her all the same.”

“Oh okay sorry, for misjudging.”

“It’s fine, though I’d be quick to forgive if you joined in some baking with me.”

Always good at conversation, and always willing to help, Butler Finn is a friend to confide in. Someone to talk to about the odd behaviors and conversations you've had with others. One of the other ones you can talk to about this would be your resident walking encyclopedia. 

“H-h-h-hi e-e-everyone I’m S-S-Simpson G-G-g-gron, Will b-b-brought me here.”

He’s like a stereotype incarnated, listing off all sorts of facts you would have never found yourself dedicated to remembering. With a stutter at the beginning of every sentence, Simpson refuses any sort of leadership, very similar to Will’s approach. Rather than having a bonafide position to argue when debates happen he prefers to chime in with what he knows for sure. 

“Look, the sooner we head out. The sooner we can all actually eat something real.”

“But you realize what the risk of leaving may mean, right?”

“The world burned away! Yeah, I got it.”

“A-a-a-actucally I think Uvil sir is r-r-referring to radiation posioning.”

“What?!” 

“The atomic b-b-b-bomb is not only the bringer of destruction, b-b-b-but a disease bringer.”

When he’s not bringing up important information he’s hanging around Will, stuttering a lot less and talking technically with one another. While Will is prickly, he’s able to properly articulate what he knows while also hurting your feelings. Simpson on the other hand…just can’t. It’s something you’ll try working with him on but once he gets going he just can’t stop.

“Okay let’s try this—why should I consider learning code?”

“Well…i-i-it’ll help y-y-y-you understand the programs you use the m-m-m–m-m-most?”

“Good. Now how so?”

“Well..learningtheintricaciesofcodingwillnotonlyallowyoutomanipulateyourownprograms–”

“Okay—now hold on–”

“Butintheendlearningthecodecsnotonlyallowanyonetoknowthesourcesofthewebsitesthatfunctionwithai–”

“Hey-wait!”

“IsitnotwisetolearnwhattheoneswhowillsurvivethistragedyworkthroughyoureyeslookasenchantingaseverAnywaythereallanguagetheyworkwithnowisbinarycodebutthatshouldn’tbe.”

“And there he goes.”

The real advantage of this though is his ability to return the favor of listening to his rambles. He happily listens to yours and comes with questions you’d only find yourself answering in an imaginary interview. But the adoring indigo-green gaze behind those iconic square glasses makes it impossible not to appreciate him. Not to mention, he and Will are the only two who religiously compete with you in the arcade room.

“Ack–that move is illegal!”

“Actually it's quite the opposite, really. This is the rule within the actual manual of the game’s lore–”

“Yeah, (Y/n) don’t be a crybaby you didn’t do your studying.”

“But you hid all the gaming manuals from me!” 

“Well, you are the one who bet something unspecified of yours. It would be unwise not to sabotage you.”

“Ack-! To be admitting it so openly!”

“No use lying about our tactics now that we are guaranteed a win.”

As the most obvious voice of reason, it isn’t a bad idea to be in his good graces. It also makes it harder to believe your own observations when you listen to his. Able to look at the bigger picture while you only have your snapshot or so he says. 

“But doesn’t this kind of product, have dire consequences for eating past the expiration date? And wasn’t there some craze about the aphrodisiac effects it has?”

“That’s a widely spread misconception, the craze was actually about the dopamine rush from the expired product.”

“Really? I’m pretty sure I remember the fanfics celebrating the stuff.”

“You are mistaken!”

“Uh okay.”

So if there’s anyone to rely on it’d be him. He may not be able to care for you as well as some of the others in the bunker. Or be as concerned as others but he’s trying his best. Of course, others may not even heed any of his efforts. Then again some of them hold themselves very highly. 

“Oh, my baby!”

“Miss are you okay to talk or–”

“My name’s Henrietta Spitz! What’s your name?”

“Uhm (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)! Oh (Y/n) I’m so sad!” 

Henrietta is probably one of the oddest characters in the bunker. Known as the distraught young mother who was dragged in by one of the…good samaritans within the bunker. If you aren’t swallowed by grief you’ll be swallowed by hers because she doesn’t let anyone forget what she’s gone through. 

“Wahhh~(Y/n) can I sleep with you?!”

“Uhm why would you need to?”

“I used to sleep with my baby at night. It’d just help me loads if your warm soft body next to mine.”

“Just like your…baby?”

“Yes, just like them~!”

But when she’s not wailing into your chest about her lost child, she’ll start up with a new…grieving routine. One that revolves around you drinking her milk…right from the tap that is. You want to argue with her–put a stop to this weird practice that she seems deadset that you be the only participant. But she cries aaalllll the time. If she isn’t set on fussing over you or forcing you to ‘help’ her grieving she whines and screams bothering everyone in the bunker. So you’ll take one for the team…right?

“I-I have milk for everyone!”

“ We have rations Miss so it's not an issue.”

“B-b-but we might run out! It’ll stop coming if it’s not drunken up!”

“Then perhaps the breast pump you had in your bag would be helpful.”

“B–b-but to keep this up I need to have a hungry mouth on there. It just won’t be the same.”

On top of that, her fleeting sadness for her child seems to conveniently leave her countenance the second it’s too inconvenient. It’s not all that obvious at first, easily being written off as her healing grief. But when she uses it for her own agenda so obviously it’s a little hard to take her seriously.

“STOP CLINGING TO (Y/N)!”

“Nooo! I want them to spend time with me!”

“It isn’t healthy to keep them locked up in your room like this. And (Y/n) you want to leave, don’t you? Finally, get to stretch your legs?”

“Yeah, I–”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I-I-I-My baby!?”

“What?”

“If you leave, the thoughts of my baby will come back and I just can’t bear it. (Y/n) please!”

Some will argue that what she’s doing is projecting her idea of her baby onto you. That she’s stuck in a psychosis that revolves around the one who she feels is meek enough to baby. But a grieving mother who would be projecting wouldn't do what she does. Everyone grieves differently but it’s the nature of her advancements that might lead anyone to suspect she’s not as motherly as she seems.

“Oh~(Y/n)~!”

“Yes?”

“Did you know something else my baby did?”

“Uhm what?”

“They’d let me wash them all over. And give kisses to me–”

“Okay.”

“On the mouth with an open mouth!”

“Okay? And?!”

It raises some concerning questions and speculations about her story. And how she was able to make it inside the bunker when everyone separately admits they did no such thing as lead her in. Or how she often mixes up the name of the child she seems so stuck on grieving. 

At the end of the day, she’s friendly to you…and maybe only you. She’s quick with her own insults the second anyone goes to question her or make their suspicions known. That and she seems to wryly refer to some hidden piece of information that keeps everyone from encroaching on her behavior. 

With all that being said. She’s definitely not one to forget for her attention to you, barely rivaled by the self-appointed scavenger and protector of you+ the bunker.

“I’m Grant and that’s all you need to know for now. I’ve got questions.”

“Ask a way, Grant.”

“Why do you even have this big of a bunker?”

“Is it so bad that we thought of comfort before the world’s end?”

“...I don’t buy it.”

If there was someone you’d expect to be the main character of some dystopian novel it’d be him. Cynical, confident, and muscled like no other, he becomes the bunker’s prime protector. Despite openly not trusting the Penz brothers he is the first to demand they do something when problems arise. While he’ll sooner croak than admit he relies on them, he does often light the fire for action from the prickly trio. 

“So what are you going to do about this?”

“Hm? Are you acknowledging me as the leader now?”

“No, but if everyone else has already I’d rather not rock the boat.”

“How benevolent of you!”

“Grrr.”

Hotheaded but not impulsive Grant becomes a significant facet of the group. Especially since the bunker needs more supplies. Brave and bold enough he’s willing to dawn the Hazmat suit and venture into the rumored wasteland that remains. It helps that he goes out of his way to help you settle and find your stance as the world goes through change.

“Hey. Here's some of the stuff I brought back. From the address you gave me.”

“Grant! This is-! I’m so surprised it even survived!”

“There wasn’t too much left but it was small enough and I thought it would survive the cleaning process.”

“Grant, really thank you!”

“...I-it’s no problem, you’re just lucky the blast didn’t damage it all too much.”

You’ll find he’s a compassionate guy at heart hardened by some terrible past he occasionally alludes to. But that harsh exterior tends to make up most of his image. Which can often lead to the group having…misconceptions about his personality.

“For a stupid delinquent that guy’s awful complex.”

“Speak for yourself! He keeps trying to tell me what to do!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! He said the time I spend hanging out with (Y/n) is unhealthy! What a nosy brat, criticizing my grieving process.”

“...Whatever."

The animosity for certain members of the bunker would become all too clear for you as the days pass. Such behavior is natural for those trapped in the same tight quarters. The same tight quarters that you can’t seem to leave; forced to watch these characters destroy themselves as they fight over something you.+ 

“Oh, guess it's my turn my name’s–”

“We’re happy you're here (Y/n).”

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” 

“Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“We are all happy to meet you, (Y/n)!”

“Pft, suck-ups. Welcome, I guess.”

“I-I-I-I-I hope w-w-we can be close.”

“Oh (Y/n), you remind me so much of my lost little love! C’mere!”

“Hey Guys! Give them space!” 

The coming months will certainly be almost as chaotic as the world’s declining state. With your new family den of lions, surely there’s a sliver of a chance that you’ll thrive in the radioactive apocalypse. 

It’s best you start documenting your adventure now….

[blippymilk]

Veneer x Fem! Dancer Reader

(I’m going to make a headcannon version of this and it will be gender neutral)

(Please feel free to replace the female pronouns if needed. I’m mostly going to stick to gender neutral fics, but because I’m so familiar as a dancer as a female, I’m making this a female reader fic.)

“Enjoy the show!” the ticket booth attendedent lady smiling at Veneer, as she handed him the tickets.

“Thank you.” He returned the smile as he walked through the black double doors into a room about as big as a theater. Your boyfriend had purchased two tickets to the dance competition your studio was going to be competing in today, one for himself, the other for his sister Velvet. “Ugh! Do I have to be here?” Velvet exclaimed, throwing her arms around in a over dramatic manner.

“No, you don’t that’s why I’m thankful that you tagged along sis.” Veneer said, now frantically looking for you. He came a bit early in order to see you. There were about 30 other people, stage managers, and a few dancers running around. He looked for you in your costume because he specifically remembered what it looked like when you tried it on.

Veneer pulled out his phone to text you and began typing, only being put to an immediate halt when you came, throwing yourself at him. “Venee!!” You giggled as he immediately caught you in his arms, his smile even wider than before. You were in his warm embrace as your tutu smooshed across his body.

“Heyyy (name).” Veneer stretched out this sentence like he usually does when he greets you. He gave you big kiss and you returned it. Velvet’s loud groan was the only reason you knew she was there to begin with. He put you down and observed your outfit, twirling you around once with his hand. “Where’s your costume babe?” he asked. “Oh, this is the group dance costume. We’re doing ballet this time, hence my tutu. But the one you saw me in was my solo costume.” You replied as veneer nodded, still focusing on your outfit.

(Choose one or make up your own)

“Your still slaying the look though babe.” Veneer said spinning you around once more as you giggled. You were used to having such a sassy boyfriend, which sometimes confused others but who cares, it’s Veneer. Velvet grumbled again and this time you paid attention to her. “Hey Velvet.” You said as she nodded her head in response. Velvet really did have a soft spot for you when it came to her brothers happiness, but dance competitions aren’t really her thing. Especially when she’s not one of the performers. It’s just hard for her to let anyone that’s not her enjoy the spotlight, so you were just thankful that she showed up.

Veneer began to speak again before being interrupted by a loud shriek then sent a shock through his body, nothing he wasn’t used to though being the brother of Velvet. “That sounds like my coach, I better go.” You said before turning around to run back, being stopped by Veneer grabbing you by you wrist. “What your not gonna give me a goodbye kiss?” Veneer said jokingly, but you could tell he was so dead serious. Rolling your eyes playfully you turned back and grabbed Veneer by the chin and pulling him into a kiss. Almost biting your lip in surprise, Veener melted into the kiss. If it weren’t for Velvet sighing loudly (and I mean loudly) you two might’ve went on for hours.

“Thanks Velvet, sorry about that.” You chuckled pulling away. “Yea thanks a lot Velvs.” Veneer said wiping his mouth (unintentionally) with almost a hint of sarcasm behind it. Velvet gave him quick stern look before he fixed the frown on his face. “Alright guys, hopefully I’ll see you in the audience.” “You know you will.” Veneer said finger gunning you. “And thanks again for coming Velvet.” You smiled at her. “Yea yea, no problem.” She replied sternly, but her eyes had softened as she gave a little smile.

More people started to come in so the twins grabbed an up and close seat. Velvet was occupied scrolling through her phone while Veneer was just anxious the whole time. His leg bouncing up and down, waiting and praying that you would do the best you could. He even found a pen in his pocket and started clicking like crazy. “VENEER!” Velvet said after literally point two seconds. “Sorry sis I’m just really nervous.” Veneer dropped the pen immediately. “Lord have mercy, the show hasn’t even started yet.” She rolled her eyes so hard you could see it from the stage if you were standing in it.

So when the competition finally did start you can imagine how anxious Veneer was, and how pissed Velvet was. Veneer kept looking through the program paper to see when your group dance was on. “Two more…two more…” at this point he was just excited and Velvet didn’t feel like bashing him for it, this time.

When your group dance was finally on he once again, frantically searched for you. After a few seconds he spotted you and the rest of the world just seemed to fade away. His eyes were on you and you only. He can feel himself falling in love with you all over again. The rest of the girls weren’t even there, if someone had asked he might’ve said it was a solo. He thinks knows you’re the best dancer on that stage. You stand out to him so much, and he thinks your above the rest of the girls. He thinks your too overlooked by your coaches. You could be the feature in the dance and he still would think you don’t have enough recognition.

Once your dance was over he was upset to see you leave the stage. But he remembered your solo was coming up and he regained hope. Then lost it again when he realized that the competition had to get done with the group dance category.

Veneer had watched, and slouched, and waited patiently through the group dance category until the competition manager announced the solo division. Veneer sat up in his seat because he knew you were one of the first to perform. He waited and waited until the announcers called the name of your dance. You gracefully walked out onto the stage in the costume Veneer had seen you in a while back. He thought you were gorgeous.

(You can choose one of these or come up with your own. Also the style of dance is up to you)

And when you started dancing once again, it was just you. His sister wasn’t there, the audience wasn’t there, the judges wern’t there. It was just you and the music. There was a moment in the dance he could’ve sworn you looked over at him and smiled brightly (which you probably did) which put this lovesick look on Veneer’s face. He watched as you turned and leaped (sorry for those that chose hip hop 😭). He could almost name a few of those moves. Even though Veneer could dance he never knew the names of certain moves, so he tried learned them so he could connect with you more. ‘Calypso…pas de chat…a la seconde turns…’ he was almost a pro.

He had been so focused and connected that before he knew it, your solo was over. He made sure to give you a standing ovation clapping loud and shouting your name. Velvet rolled her eyes but made sure to clap just as loud. And a few other people joined in with Veneer.

Soon the results rolled around and Veneer was as anxious as ever. All the teams were sitting out on the stage. He really wanted you to win your solo. He cared about the group dance but not as much as your specific solo. At this competition they announced solos first so Veneer was on cloud nine. When they got to your age division he noticed you tense up a bit. He waited for your eyes to lock with his and he gave you a ‘Don’t worry I know you’ll win this’ look with just his eyes. You smiled a bit and went back to focusing on the judges.

“Third runner up…(____).” The judge called as the girl went to claim her award. You and Veeners legs were bouncing as there were only two more places left and no sign of your name. “Second place goes to…(____)” Now you knew you had either blew it or knocked it out of the park. You waited for them to announce first place as some of the girls held your hand. “First place overall goes to…” Veneer was would’ve exploded if the judge took any longer, “(Name!)” the announcer called as you pumped your fist in the air and went to collect your prize. Veneer almost jumped out of his seat. He was louder than the whole theater combined.

The announcer asked you the name of your studio, as Veneer whooped and hollered. You looked back at him and smiled and you even saw Velvet smiling at you as well.

Your group ended up getting second in the teen group division, but you were still so happy that you had won.

When the competition was over you ran to Veneer with the big trophy in your hand, as he held his arms open to embrace you. “Try not to knock me out with it!” Veneer yelled right before you got to him, and for the record you almost did. “You did so good! You definitely deserved that win more than anyone else here, I don’t care.” He said causing you to laugh. “I don’t know, it was really hard competition today.” You replied. “Well you deserved it.” He said dragging out the last word, that meant he was about to get lovey dovey.

“Yeah that was good (name). Now let’s go now or I’ll never get you two in the car.” She said walking off. Was she a little aggressive? Yes. Was she wrong? No.

[lemotmo]

I cropped the question for you on this one. But ugh the answer 💗

Q. What other canon plots do you hate, if you don't mind sharing? Also you've mentioned people who haven't watched the series in its entirety not really having valid opinions. You don't really think that do you? Their opinion on the current show should be just as valid. An opinion is an opinion. Everyone is allowed to view things differently.

A. Hi anon. It's a show that has run for 7 seasons, there's been several plots I haven't loved. In terms of plots I hate though, the easy go to one is the sperm donor plot (which I'm guessing you haven't seen). It had the potential to be interesting, but they just ended up doing nothing with it. And picking Buck specifically to be the donor definitely needed context the show just didn't bother providing. Buck is way too emotionally wired to father a child and then just never care to see or hear about that child again. I also absolutely hated the couple he donated to. I hated them. I thought the whole fight club thing with Eddie was not great. Technically with the way Eddie is wired it did make sense for him to a point, and again had potential, but again, it just kind of stopped with no real resolution or point in the end. Buck's lawsuit is a widely hated storyline by many, but I kind of understood what they were going for, only because Buck can be singularly sighted at times. But I still tend to skip over it in my rewatches. I don't care for the parental redemption arcs because sometimes parents just suck, and their adult children have the right to live their lives telling people their parents sucked. Buck and Eddie's parents sucked. They sucked in different ways, but they both definitely sucked. Lastly as far as hated plots go, the entire back half of season 7(episodes 7-10) belongs in a fire pit of hell never to be seen again. I won't watch any of it ever again. I rebuke it entirely. It was abysmal.

Now, I know this is not going to be the answer you were hoping for, but anyone whose knowledge of the show consists solely of 7 episodes from one season absolutely does not have a valid opinion of the characters or the show. We would be here days if I did this character by character so for the sake of time I'm going to relegate this answer to Buck, you know the half of your ship you all care the least about, but the half the audience and the show cares the most about. You never met and don't understand the reference Buck 1.0, or Buck 2.0 for that matter. You don't know clipboard Buck, or that it's canon that Eddie is the only human alive who finds that Buck endearing. You don't know who Daniel is, or how he ties into Buck's complete lack of self worth. You don't know who Carla is or how Buck met her or who she now is to Eddie and Christopher. You don't know why Buck doesn't associate with the name Evan, and why it's actually gross that Tommy refuses to call him Buck. You don't know why Buck had to wear a protective sleeve on his leg during the pickup basketball game. You don't know the significance of 3 minutes and 17 seconds. You don't know that Buck basically spent the better part of three years without a couch. You don't know that during the tsunami while trying to protect whatever was left of Christopher's innocence he started a game of I spy so Christopher would look up instead of down at the water and the bodies floating by. You don't know who taught Buck how to cook. You don't know he tended bar and worked on a ranch at one point before going to the fire academy. You don't know that Bobby fired him. This is nowhere near everything but I'm guessing you get the point. If you don't want to watch the entire series don't. No one is going to force you. But we all know the reason you won't watch it is because learning who Buck truly is would no longer allow you the ability to mold him entirely out of your Tommy headcanons. He's not a damsel in distress. He's not weak or incapable of speaking for himself or saving himself. He doesn't need Tommy to survive day to day. You don't want his canon history, fine, but it absolutely makes your opinion of him worthless.

Phew, well I feel like this is kind of a great conclusion to the posts I have been answering all night about hated plots and why some people can't seem to accept that BT isn't endgame.

It's because of this! Once again, thank you anon OP for your almost devastating eloquence. I wish I had even half of your writing talent.

Thank you once again Nonny for dropping this in my askbox.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Chapter 24

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

slight nsfw, minors dni

And so this case came to a close—

Time continued to pass until my month as Fairytale Keeper was up…

Ale: Woof.

Kate: Huh, Ale?! Didn’t you go back home?

While I blinked at Ale, who jumped into my arms, Ellis came running after.

Ellis: Roger’s father just came by. He asked us to look after him for a while again.

Roger: He’s doing his own thing again. But it’s more fun when it’s lively around here, isn’t it Kate?

Kate: Yes. Come here, Ale!

Ale: Arf arf.

It looked like Ale would be spending more time in Crown Castle.

--

Roger: …There’s a typo here. Also, the case would be easier to follow if you wrote it in chronological order.

Kate: Ugh…Can you please go easy on me?

Roger was proofreading my report…

--

Roger: Now then…

Ellis: What are we toasting?

Jude: Just say somethin’ that works.

Kate: Eh, me? Then, um… To another uneventful day. Cheers!

We went out to drink with Jude and the others…

The time left flew by.

But it was enough time to make some memories—At last, my month was up.

Yes, today was the last day…

And the day to reveal to Roger what I had been planning.

--

All members of Crown, minus Roger, and I gathered in the audience chamber.

(Roger still hasn’t mentioned what his final trial is)

(I’m almost certain he’s going to make me do the impossible and then let me go…)

And say something like “don’t do something stupid like putting up with someone with a shortened lifespan like myself.”

(That’s why I—)

While I reaffirmed the thoughts hidden in my heart, Roger entered the audience chamber.

Roger: What’s with suddenly summoning everyone here?

Victor: We’re all here now. Then let's hold a ceremony for Kate’s continuation as Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: …O_O

(This is what I decided on, Roger)

I cracked a smile at his surprised expression.

Victor: Kate, not only did you keep Crown’s secret for a whole month as promised, you have also become an essential part of us. I’d like to express my most sincere gratitude. Thank you. The other day, she had come to me to discuss her continuation as Fairytale Keeper. If there are no mistakes in the proposal, then sign this letter of agreement to continue as Fairytale Keeper.

I stepped forward and signed the letter of agreement, set the pen down, and walked up to Roger who looked at me in surprise.

Kate: I intend to continue being a Fairytale Keeper and record Crown’s evil. More importantly, I want to continue helping you fulfill your ambitions. You probably thought we’d be parting ways today. I can’t be leave you anymore!

Roger: …O_O

Roger’s eyes widened even more…

Roger: Leave? What’re you talking about?

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You sure you’re not misunderstanding something here?

(Misunderstanding?? Eh, but!)

Kate: But you!

I heard someone clear his throat and turned to see William wearing his usual refined smile.

William: Roger, Kate. Do keep in mind that we’re in the presence of Her Majesty. Save your lover’s quarrel for another place.

As I bowed my head in a hurry, Ellis and Liam clapped…

Ellis: Anyway, congrats on your continuation as Fairytale Keeper, Kate.

Liam: I don’t know what’s going on, but if it means I can keep being with Kate, then I’m happy with it.

Harrison: I’m still curious about what Kate’s misunderstanding with Roger is. I’m confused.

Jude: I actually agree for once. Ya took up our time and now there’s a misunderstandin’. Are ya stupid?

Alfons: We’ll find out soon enough. In any case, we’ll have to deal with them making out in the castle. Ahh, so troublesome!

Elbert: Kate…I look forward to working with you more.

Victor: It seems everyone’s welcoming Kate’s continued role as Fairytale Keeper. I’m counting on you. Watch the light and darkness with your clear eyes together with Crown.

Kate: Victor, and everyone else…Thank you. 

William: Now then, let’s have a moment of peace before our next condemnation. We should hold a dinner party for Kate. Come. Our beautiful robin who’s chosen to live in the dark—

William slowly reached out toward me, and as his fingertips were about to touch mine…

Roger: I know you lot like her, but we need to have a talk first.

Roger took my hand, fixed his gaze on me, and then threw me over his shoulder—

Kate: Hey, Roger?!

Roger: Sorry, but I’m taking this one.

And so the two disappeared behind the door.

Victor: William, you provoked Roger on purpose, didn’t you? You naughty boy.

William: We have robin with us. I’m allowed this much of a blessing.

--

He set me down on his bed and was in front of me before I even had a chance to sit up.

Roger: —So, what’s your aim? Since it looks like you’re conspiring with Victor.

(It doesn’t sound like Roger’s happy with my decision to stay as Fairytale Keeper…)

Kate: …I was eavesdropping earlier. Jude said that you’ve been shortening your lifespan by testing on yourself.

Roger: I see. I thought it was weird how you didn’t come back right away.

Roger let out a deep sigh.

Roger: I’m not always listening out for things, so I didn’t notice.

Kate: …I’m sorry for eavesdropping and then pretending I didn’t know anything. I thought you were going to use your final trial as a chance to keep me away.

(If that happened, then I’d be at a loss)

That’s why I thought I had to find a way to stay by Roger’s side before it happened.

Roger: It’d suck to be with a man who’s lifespan’s been cut short. So you thought it’d be a farewell?

I nodded slowly.

Kate: …Is it not?

Roger sighed again.

Roger: Everything you heard was true. But what I had planned for your final trial was the exact opposite of whatever you deluded yourself into thinking.

(Huh?)

Roger: Since I’m the eldest son of the Barel family, this is the account where the property and assets are saved, and this is the deed to the Barel family’s land. And this—

I started panicking as he pulled one unexpected thing out of his pocket after another.

Kate: Eh, uh, wait. What are you…

Roger went to get something out of his desk drawer, leaving me on the bed, confused.

Roger: Here, this is the most important thing.

He draped a lab coat over my shoulders.

(The embroidery on the lab coat…it’s my name)

As I traced the embroidery, a large hand rested on my head.

Roger: I definitely can’t say that I’ll live long. Because of that, I’m giving you everything that’s mine. More importantly, you’ll never be bored when we’re together. I’ll love you thoroughly. Kate. Be my lover, or don’t. If you choose to, then kiss me.

Kate: Roger, is this…?

When I looked into his eyes for confirmation, he nodded.

Roger: This is the final trial I had in mind.

Kate: …

The moment he said that, I almost stopped breathing.

(He couldn’t have prepared the deed and other stuff in a day)

(Meaning Roger never intended on letting me go…)

Realizing that I had misunderstood everything, my cheeks heated up.

Kate: …Wha

Roger: …Wha?

Kate: W-what is this…You should’ve said something sooner…

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. You’re the one that came up with some wild delusion. You’re still too naive. Do I look like the nice sort of guy that’d pull back for another?

You don’t.

You’re nice, but not. +4 +4

I forgot you were like this.

Kate: You’re nice, but not. You’re an egoist that can be either.

Roger: You like that, don’t you?

This man that was like poison, was the greatest egoist. He was a villain who made whatever he wanted his.

(In the end, I was so stupid for forgetting that)

Roger: I’ve thought about it like most people would. If there was a way to let you go. But when you came to save me in jail and gave me that pep talk, I was convinced. …Yeah, can’t let this one go. I wanted to make her own life mine. Besides, I’ve already told you. “I will never betray you without a reason. Never.”

(Ah…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Kate, I’ve taken a liking to you so I’ll promise you this. I will never betray you without a reason. Never.

~~ End flashback ~~

The hand that was on my head slowly pulled me in.

Roger: I won’t betray your love. Let’s be together, Kate. I can’t promise that I won’t make you sad. However—You can’t be satisfied by anyone else but me, can you?

Roger gently touched his forehead to mine and gave me a wicked smile.

(T-t-this…)

(This man~~!)

(But, the moment I fell for a selfish man like him, I lost!)

I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed Roger on the lips.

Kate: Roger, please make me your lover.

Roger: Likewise.

Roger kissed me back, but it didn’t end there. His kisses went lower, down my neck and chest.

Kate: Roger…?

Roger: I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Let’s do something that feels good that we haven’t done in a while.

Now that we were lovers, I didn’t have a reason to reject him.

(I wonder if Roger and I will finally do that tonight…)

As I listened to my heart pound, my body suddenly relaxed.

Roger: I’d be a waste if we went straight to the main course. Let’s savor this thoroughly.

I felt my heart beat faster as my breath hitched. But then—

Roger: Whoops, I got an appointment with Jude. See ya, Kate.

Before I could chase after the warmth, the door shut…

Kate: ……What?

I was left all alone in the room, confused.

…However, there was a meaning to this baffling neglect.

It was to make me commit this pleasure to memory—in other words, training me.

--

Kate: Nn..haa…so deep, I can’t.

Roger: If you don’t like it, we’ll stop here.

Kate: …Eh?

Despite tormenting my core so much, he slipped his fingers out too soon…

--

Kate: Mnn, Roger, there…feels so good…more…haaaa.

Roger: Nope, that’s enough for today.

Kate: What do you mean that’s enough…?

Roger: We’re in the middle of a serious lesson on anatomy. We’ll study here later.

Roger was the one that touched me first, but he came up with an excuse to stop, leaving me aching…

Roger kept denying me every time.

--

…And tonight was no exception.

Roger: Haha, you get so wet, so fast.

Of course I did, because Roger kept denying me release. My body became sensitive to even the slightest bit of stimulation.

Roger: …What do you wanna do, Kate? Wanna go all the way tonight?

[pippytmi]

spy!au + meet messy + you never saw me ? If not that's fine, I just thought it would be cool. :)

spy!au + meet messy + you never saw me 

“So on a scale of 1-10, how much do we hate the fiancée?”

A wry laugh escapes before Kara can even try to quell it, and she briefly removes the unlit cigarette from her mouth to muse, “You know, I've heard a saying that goes ‘never judge a book by its cover.’ Fascinating stuff, I might have to send it to you.”

“Ugh. Journalists—so idealistic.” But Nia is grinning as she snags the barstool at Kara's right. “Where is the elusive Lena Luthor anyway? Do we finally get to meet her?”

Kara shrugs. “Beats me,” she says. “Last I heard, she was running late.”

“Late to her own engagement party? Finally, someone I can get along with,” Nia says. Before Kara can even get a word in, Nia's attention is immediately stolen by the bartender coming over. “Hey M’gann, can I get an amaretto sour?”

“Sure thing,” M’gann says absentmindedly, her gaze otherwise zeroing in firmly on Kara. “Danvers, you better not smoke in my bar.”

“I won't,” Kara swears, raising both hands in a show of innocence, and M'gann rolls her eyes.

“Journalists,” she echoes Nia's earlier sentiment, but with an entirely exasperated deeper meaning. “I'm putting Nia's drink on your tab.”

“Well in that case…” Nia twists around, already waving her hand as if to beckon someone over. “Make it two, Kara's buying a drink for the bride to be. Alex! Don't—I know you can see me, come here.”

For as much as Alex stressed the importance of everyone showing up tonight, she doesn't seem very…well, happy. And while Alex is not typically one to gush, Kara had expected at least a smidgen of joy on her sister's face, not the harried expression she's currently sporting.

“What?” Alex asks, eyes them both suspiciously while fidgeting as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Um, hello to you too,” Nia says. “Clearly, you need this. Where's your soon-to-be better half?”

Alex accepts the drink when Nia presses it in her hand but frowns, however slight, at the question. “She's—on her way,” she says, pausing to take a sip from her glass before her gaze falls on her sister. “Oh, gross, Kara. Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t!” Kara pouts, feeling like a broken record. “Can’t I be edgy and have a cigarette to look cool?”

“That’s the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Nia says, delighted, while Alex just groans.

“Come on, Kara, not tonight. Just be normal for once in your life,” Alex sighs, already distractedly glancing back to the front door like she is willing her fiancée to just walk through any second.

“You guys don’t understand the intricacies of being a method actor,” Kara argues, waving her cigarette in the air to make her point. (And also, because it is kind of awkward to keep it in her mouth without doing anything with it, not that she’ll admit that). But it’s clear she only has half the audience she had a second ago; Alex is half a world away the second her phone starts to ring.

“I’ll be back,” Alex says, handing off her glass to Nia who is more than happy to finish it.

Kara dejectedly puts the cigarette back in her mouth. “I just realized something.”

“What?”

“I don’t actually know how to smoke. What if someone expects me to, like, smoke with them?”

Nia presses a fingertip to her chin and  ponders the question seriously. “Either you're screwed, or they will just think you're a dork. The reaction will depend on the person, really.”

Kara's shoulders slump. “So I won't be cool?”

“Journalists generally aren't cool,” Nia unhelpfully offers. “But I'm sure you could make it work for you. You'd be like…one of those grizzly story-seeking sleuth journalists.”

Kara groans, thumping her forehead on the bartop. “That seems more like a private investigator thing,” she says. “Darn it. I'm going to have to start from scratch.”

“I'm all in favor of quitting method acting for one night,” M'gann chimes in, still eyeing Kara's cigarette distastefully. “Now do you need a refill or are you going to fall asleep here?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kara says, lifting her head in order to sheepishly push her emptied club soda over. “Pour me a double.”

That joke never lands—M'gann just rolls her eyes and refills the glass, wiping her hands off before moving down to another patron. Nia scoots her stool closer to Kara once she's gone to reassuringly say,

“I like the pretentious cigarette. It makes you look like a hipster…they’re coming back into fashion, you know. Just like leg warmers.”

Kara wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think anyone really liked leg warmers.”

“That’s how I know you were unfashionable in high school,” Nia says. Then, apparently already bored with the topic at hand, she turns around in search of their former company. “Hey, where did Alex go? I haven’t even bought her a round of shots yet!”

“That’s a good question,” Kara says thoughtfully. “Maybe Lena showed up?” But when she swivels her chair to aid Nia’s search, she can't spot her sister either; considering Al’s Bar is a hole in the wall with not many patrons, that can only mean Alex has stepped out. “I'll go find her.”

All things considered, the night is pleasant—when Kara emerges without her jacket, the air isn't quite cool enough to make her go back in to retrieve it. She walks around the corner to the alley where everyone goes to smoke, but Alex isn’t there. Alex is also not in the 7-11 across the street, nor is she two doors down at the diner. (Kara orders a donut to go just to be 100% sure Alex won’t emerge from somewhere inside, of course, like a diligent sister).

Eventually, her pointless search leads her right back to Al’s. Nia has apparently had enough alcohol to drag Kelly to dance; Winn and James have begun a spirited game of pool; Querl has commandeered the jukebox and is studiously adding 80’s dance music to the queue. Alex, however, is still notably missing.

With a groan, Kara collapses at the bar again. “Can I get a water, M’gann?”

“You got it,” M’gann says, filling a fresh glass from the tap. She moves on immediately after to another customer, and Kara’s question about whether M’gann has seen Alex dies before it even forms. Kara sighs, takes a much-needed sip of her water, and resolves to just melt into her stool when all of a sudden she hears:

“Is this seat taken?”

It should be noted that, in the past, Kara has encountered situations far worse than this one. Moments where her life was in danger, even. She likes to think she has mastered the ability to remain unfazed in the face of the worst surprises at this point of her career.

But then again…she’s never actually met her sister’s fiancée before. And in a truly horrific turn of events, Kara ends up spit-taking all over her shoes.

“Oh crap, I am so sorry,” Kara says, making a mad grab for napkins off the bar and crouching down to pat at Lena’s heels. “Are you—okay, can I get, er, anything—” She doesn't even know how to apologize at this point, so tongue-tied she is just about to offer her own shoes off her feet.

Lena Luthor doesn't answer right away. She takes a delicate step down, and her hand covers Kara's in order to make her pause. When Kara musters the nerve to cautiously meet her eye, Lena gives her a small smile.

“It's fine.” Lena looks much more <i>vivid</i> than the photographs. Everything about her is sharp; the angles of her jaw, the eyeliner she wears, the intensity of her green eyes when they're trained on Kara. Even her voice edges on the sharper side, not quite cold but almost. “Kara, right? I recognize you from Alex's pictures.”

Kara barely remembers to nod. “Yes, I…recognize you too,” she says. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Lena draws her hand away immediately after, and Kara hastily rises up in order to put some space between them.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Kara asks quickly. “M'gann makes a great…sour.” She cannot for the life of her remember what it is that Nia ordered, and from the strange look on Lena’s face, she has 100% gotten the name wrong. “I don’t really drink.”

Somehow, that awkward confession makes Lena’s face twist, like she is trying not to smile. “Alex mentioned you’re sober,” she says. “I hope it’s alright, that she did.”

“No, yeah, it’s not a secret,” Kara says, but in her mind she’s thinking Alex and Lena talk about her? About what? Hopefully not embarrassing stuff. Shoot, knowing Alex, it’s 100% embarrassing stuff. “And I wouldn’t expect you to have any secrets with Alex either way, so.”

“Right.” Lena takes a careful seat besides Kara, her expression since gone entirely blank. She orders a scotch, Kara sticks to water, and they immediately maintain an awkward silence that M'gann raises a judgmental eyebrow at Kara for.

Kara clears her throat, desperate for any attempt of making nice she can muster. “So have you seen Alex?” she says.

“Today?” Lena has her glass raised to her lips, but she doesn't drink. “Not yet.”

“Oh. Well, I'm sure she's around here somewhere,” Kara says, and tries not to find it weird that Lena and Alex did not see each other at all today despite apparently living together.

This time Lena takes a long, thoughtful sip of her drink, and she turns her head to regard Kara silently. “Kara,” she says, as if testing the name all-too-carefully, practiced and halting like she wants to call Kara literally anything else. “Would it be a fair assessment to assume you don't like me?”

Kara’s grip on her glass falters in a single blink-or-miss-it second before she manages to control her surprise. “What?” she says weakly. “I know we don’t know each other, but, if Alex likes you of course I like you.” Flustered, she backtracks to say, “I mean Alex loves you. Obviously.”

Lena doesn’t put Kara out of her misery. At least, not right away. No, she just smooths out the imaginary wrinkles of her form-fitting dress that she has chosen to wear to this dive bar, drums her fingertips against the sticky wood of the bar counter, and gazes pensively beyond her company in a way that can only be described as lost. Then,

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant to be an accusation,” Lena says. “What I meant is, I'm sure you must despise the idea of me.” An attempt at a smile crosses Lena’s lips, but it’s a sad one. “Today was mostly about putting your mind at ease over any misconceptions you might have.”

“Well, I’ve only known about you for like a week, but I can honestly say I have zero thoughts about you,” Kara says quickly. Then frowns. “Wait. That was supposed to sound reassuring. Can I start over?”

The engagement ring on Lena’s finger shimmers even in the poor lighting, and she rests her cheek against her palm, gazing at Kara with a curious, half-amused kind of look in her eyes. “The floor’s yours.”

“I’m not the kind of person who assumes the worst about other people,” Kara says, reaching for her water again, if only to tip it towards Lena reassuringly before taking a quick sip. “And if you make Alex happy, then I can only assume you’re a good person. Also, you might be a saint to even put up with her.”

Lena’s mouth twists into a proper smile, however small. “The way you two talk about each other is so…” She shakes her head as if she can’t quite finish that thought. “You two are clearly very close.”

“Unfortunately, yeah, I'm stuck with her,” Kara quips, and that at least feels normal—talking about Alex is a safe topic. Even if she hasn’t bothered to come back to her own engagement party. “Do you have any siblings?”

“A brother.” Any semblance of a smile vanishes entirely at that, and Lena hastily finishes the remainder of her drink.

Kara gets the feeling she has said something horribly wrong. “And are you two also…close?” she finishes her train of thought awkwardly, even if she already knows the answer.

“No.” The stony way Lena clenches her jaw suggests that Kara isn't winning any brownie points, here, and she has to bite her tongue to stop from pushing on. “Excuse me, can I get another?” Lena beckons M’gann over when she has a second, and M’gann gives Kara another questioning look but doesn’t say anything to her directly.

“I’m sorry,” Kara feels the need to say. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oddly enough, I believe you,” Lena muses. “You did mention your sister has hardly talked about me.”

“I'm sure she would've,” Kara tries to reassure her. “I just don't see her too much nowadays, with my work.”

“Mm. You’re a journalist, right?” Lena asks, and there is something in her gaze that makes Kara feel hot under the collar. “Or was it a kindergarten teacher? I know you and your sister have an affinity for switching careers.” Something about the calculated way she pauses to take a sip of her drink, gaze expectant over the rim, causes Kara's heart to plummet into her stomach.

Kara, in turn, promptly chokes on air. “What? You—you know? About—” She stops. “I’m not sure Alex was allowed to tell you that.”

“Not even if we're going to get married?” Slowly, Lena begins to smile. It's a real smile, one Kara hadn't realized Lena was capable of until now. “Your sister might be the most by-the-book person I've ever met. Unfortunately for her, I was able to connect the dots about you myself.”

“Ah.” Kara drums her fingertips against the bar counter, feels her cheeks warm slightly with embarrassment.

Lena places a hand on Kara's forearm—a warm, gentle heat Kara can feel through the thin sleeve of her T-shirt. “That was no fault of yours,” she says reassuringly. “She slipped up talking about your job. It was fairly easy to connect the dots.”

Somehow, that does nothing to dissolve the dread slowly building up in Kara’s chest. Alex never slips up. Kara is the resident Danvers sister fuck up (Alex’s words exactly), and all at once Alex’s disappearance tonight becomes decidedly unsettling.

“When did she tell you about my job?” Kara blurts out. “Do you remember?”

“Yesterday, I think,” Lena says, and she regards Kara questioningly. “She was telling me about everyone who was going to be here today and what your friends do for work. Why?”

“Was she working? Looking at her computer or her phone or anything?”

“Yes, that’s all she ever does.” But it’s odd, the way Lena says it, like she’s not bothered in the slightest.

It could be nothing. It probably is nothing. But Kara still scans the bar with a renewed vigor in search of that familiar scowl that she cannot find. “She was just here,” Kara mutters aloud. “She wouldn’t have left without telling someone.”

“Alex?” Lena watches Kara carefully, no doubt trying to decide what to say. “Has she not told you if she’s running late?”

“No, she was here already,” Kara says. “I don’t think she would have—” She shakes her head to herself, cursing inwardly. She can’t assume that Alex has been dragged away for a work reason. Maybe it has something to do with Alex getting cold feet. Either way, telling her sister’s fiancée that the woman she’s supposed to marry has abandoned her engagement party doesn’t seem like it would do Alex any favors. “I’m sure she’s just in the bathroom or something. Uh, I’m going to just…” She pulls out her cigarette in a poor cover and says, “Go outside, for a smoke break, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Lena says. Then, “Would it be alright if I joined you?”

If Nia knew that Kara’s stupid cigarette would have led to this moment, she would laugh her ass off. Repeatedly. Kara supposes it’s a small mercy that Nia is still dancing with Kelly, so she is spared of any and all jokes at her expense.

It’s not until they’re outside that Kara sheepishly confesses: “So full disclosure…I don’t actually smoke.”

Lena doesn't look particularly surprised at the fact. “It's an odd thing to lie about,” she says, and tilts her head, surveying Kara with a sharp look. “Oh,” she says afterward. “I’m sorry. Clearly, you lied to get away from me, and here I am following you around.”

Kara swallows. Hard. “It’s not that,” she says, even though it kind of is. 

“It's okay.” Another touch, this time gently to Kara’s shoulder. Lena has a strange, half-wistful look on her face. “Take your break. I’ll go inside…I should introduce myself to Alex’s friends and keep it convincing.”

That is such a peculiar way to phrase an otherwise normal statement, and Kara feels her brow furrow subconsciously. “What?”

But Lena has turned away by the time Kara even forms the word, and Kara watches, bewildered, as Lena takes two steps forward before immediately whirling back around. There is no other way to describe it, but—Lena has gone sickly pale in the moonlight, as if she’s seen a ghost. Before Kara can ask what’s wrong, Lena has hurriedly bridged the gap between them and grasped Kara’s face with cold, shaking hands.

“Can you turn around?” Lena asks quietly.

Kara does, but she knows her cheeks have gone hot and red by now, so unaccustomed to both the proximity and the specific person before her. “Lena, what’s—”

“I have something very urgent to ask you, and please don’t overthink it,” Lena rushes to say.

“Okay.” Kara tries not to fidget; she has had a gun held to her head several times before and yet, this is the most overwhelmed she has felt in years.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Kara blinks. “What?”

“Please,” Lena adds on, as if that makes the question any saner.

And maybe it’s the desperation in Lena’s voice, in her eyes, in the way she keeps on trembling, but Kara recognizes someone in danger. She doesn’t understand what on Earth is going on, but she slowly nods, and trusts that if Alex kicks her ass later it will be for a good cause.

(Kara is not, however, prepared for Lena to immediately kiss her like she’s starving, hands still tight against Kara’s cheeks, dragging Kara so close that Kara is essentially caging her against the wall). 

It feels like forever, but not in a bad way. Kara hasn't kissed someone in so long that she feels clumsy, almost like she is outside of her own skin, hands falling against the gravel of the bar’s outside walls in order to stop herself from grabbing at the inviting curves of Lena’s waist.

When Lena gently pushes her away, Kara hastily steps back, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands to keep from doing something dangerous (like reaching back in). Lena looks as if she's calmed down enough at least; she blushes when she meets Kara’s eyes, glancing down at the floor for a brief moment.

“Thank you,” Lena says. “God, if I was recognized out here of all places Alex would have lost it.”

“Recognized?” Kara echoes. She follows the way Lena jerks her head to the right, where the shadow of a man is disappearing into the alleyway. “I…don't follow.”

“That man used to work for my brother,” Lena sighs. “I don’t know if he would have remembered my face, but better safe than sorry.”

Kara opens her mouth, pauses, and then shuts it when she realizes she has no clue what to say. Her phone buzzes in an all-too-welcome distraction, but her blood runs cold when she sees it’s from Alex.

SENTINEL:

Can you tell everyone the party’s cancelled? Lena’s sick. Also let the cat back in before the night’s over.

“Shit,” Kara involuntarily curses when she sees that familiar code phrase. Suddenly everything makes sense: the secrecy, the mysterious brother, the fact that Lena cannot be recognized in the streets outside of a dive bar used as a front for the average spy (or average drunk that security allows in for the cover). “Lena, are you in witness protection?”

Lena squints at Kara like she is the one dropping a bombshell. “Yes? Did you not know that?”

“No! What the—why would Alex bring you here?!” Kara frantically texts her insane sister back.

SUPERGIRL:

Is there a curfew?

SENTINEL:

The sooner the better. I’m at Dad’s house right now or else I would do it myself.

That next coded message makes Kara exhale, finally, to at least know Alex is safe. Something big must have happened if she is dragging Kara into this without so much as a briefing, sure, but Kara also knows that Alex would not have trusted her with anything less.

“Lena,” Kara says, “can I ask you something urgent now?” She pauses when she immediately remembers the firm pressure of Lena’s lips, and quickly adds, “It doesn’t involve kissing.”

“Fair enough,” Lena says, enough amusement coloring her tone that Kara briefly flushes all over again.

“Can you trust me to get you home tonight?” Kara doesn’t wait for an answer before she goes on: “I know you don’t know me. But you know Alex. And I swear on my life, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for Alex, and by extension that means there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Lena nods along with every word slowly. “You take your job very seriously.”

“I do,” Kara says firmly. (And, hopefully, comfortingly).

“Then I trust you, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “If that’s even your real name.”

And for a brief moment, Kara’s not a spy fighting a clock on a mission she knows nothing about; she is, instead, a normal person who is capable of seeing the humor of her almost-sister-in-law who definitely knows more than she has clearance for.

“It is,” Kara says—even deigns to smile before she can quell it. “By choice.”

“That sounds like there’s a story somewhere.”

“I’ll tell you all about it sometime,” Kara promises. “Maybe even tonight, if in exchange you tell me your real name.”

“Unfortunately, Lena Luthor is my real name,” Lena says. “Alex said it was fine to tell her friends, so, this party was her idea. She even came up with the marriage idea so when my last name is changed, no one will care.”

The cogs finally start turning in Kara’s head far slower than she cares to admit. “Hold on. So you and Alex aren’t actually engaged?”

Again, Lena stares at Kara like she’s grown two heads in the last thirty seconds. “No. You seriously didn’t know? I thought you were just being weird, Alex says you get really into your method-acting stuff.”

“No.” Strangely, the first thing Kara feels is relief; she doesn’t have to actually tell her sister that she kissed her future wife. The second thing is, quite reasonably, alarm. “Okay I don’t know what the hell is going on with your case, but you mentioned someone who used to work for your brother, right? How bad is the threat?”

Lena hesitates. “It’s…kind of a long story.”

“So really bad,” Kara fills in the blanks. “Crap. We need to go.” She quickly shrugs off her jacket and presses it into Lena’s hands. “Put this on. There are no cameras in this area, but we’re going to hit some when we get to the parking lot.” 

“Is everything okay?” Lena asks, though she hurriedly does as Kara says.

“I’m sure it is,” Kara tries to assure her. “But it’s just a precaution until we can reunite you with Alex and confirm.”

Lena doesn’t seem like she believes Kara entirely—or at least, the way her expression remains a fraction confused definitely indicates as much. But at the very least, she does not argue, though she does make a point to ask, “Where is Alex?”

“She just got tied up at work.” Kara leads the way to the parking lot, careful to hover at Lena’s side on the off chance any threat might  materialize. “I don’t know where your current safe house is or if it’s been compromised, so I’m going to take you somewhere else. Is that okay?”

“Not like I have any choice,” Lena says wearily. “So am I not allowed to know when everything’s gone to shit? Or will everyone just keep telling me it’s okay when it’s not?”

Kara swings open the passenger side of James’s car (he’ll forgive her for this later) and waits for Lena to sit down. Lena doesn’t. “It’s—complicated,” she says.

“How so?” Lena crosses her arms and still does not move. Kara is still holding onto the car door, inadvertently standing too close; she feels strangely helpless when Lena looks right at her with eyes dark and determined.

“Full disclosure,” Kara reluctantly admits, “I…have no clue what’s going on with your case. I’ve been in the dark and Alex can't exactly  share the details through a text, so, the truth is I have no idea if everything has gone to shit. I know that is the very last thing you want to hear since I’m supposed to be protecting you, but—”

“Actually,” Lena says, and her look has softened, “that makes me trust you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I appreciate that you will tell me upfront you don't know,” Lena says. She sways slightly closer, enough that Kara stiffens, but it's only to duck into the car after all.

Kara shuts the door only after a very brief pause. This should not be as hard as it feels. For a week she has been associating the idea of Lena Luthor as her sister’s fiancée and it’s tough to wrap her head around the fact that the opposite is true.

(And it has absolutely nothing to do with how attractive Lena is. Or that kiss. For the record.)

The dashboard of James’s car reads 7:19 PM; his radio is playing a news station; the gas tank is half full. Kara makes note of everything and decides she will drive as far as she possibly can before it hits empty.

Lena is quiet, at first. And while there is nothing special about the bumper-to-bumper traffic or the hazy street lights or the clouded night sky, Lena keeps her gaze trained outwards, head resting against the tinted window.

But then, “My brother killed twenty people.”

Kara grips onto the wheel and tries not to outwardly react. She has, of course, always had a terrible poker face. “Oh.”

“It gets worse,” Lena says uneasily. “I designed the technology he used to kill them.”

There is no possible response Kara can imagine which might be appropriate. In the end she settles for: “That actually doesn’t seem like a long story after all.”

“I assumed Alex would have told you that, at least.” Lena begins to drum a pattern with her fingertips against the center console. “Do you think the worst of me now?”

“I guess that depends,” Kara says slowly, “on whether you designed that technology for the purpose of killing people.”

Lena gives a curt, kind of disbelieving half-laugh, half-scoff. “They were nanobots,” she says. “I was trying to use them to cure cancer. But my brother…well, he didn’t see half the potential I did.”

Kara casts a quick glance at Lena, finds her staring straight ahead with a stony expression on her face. “Lena,” she says gently, “that doesn’t sound like it was at all your fault.”

“Everyone tells me that.” More rhythmic drumming, each beat more hesitant than the last. “I don’t know when I’ll start to believe it.”

When she was a kid, Kara had been thrown into the foster system with little more than heartache and a wish to find the cousin she never would. She had never felt so helpless—so unsure—and something about Lena’s guilt right now brings her right back to that moment. Like she’s just a little kid, knees pulled up to her chest, waiting for a sign that would never come.

“It’ll be hard,” Kara says softly. It has begun to drizzle rain, and she mindlessly sets the wipers, watching them flick back and forth as they wait for the light to turn green. “But it will get easier. I promise.” 

“Odd thing to promise,” Lena notes, but Kara can feel her gaze burning against the side of her head, and Lena sounds…lighter, somehow. “Can I change the station?”

“Sure.” James will hate it, but Kara doesn’t mind. Lena chooses a jazz station that frequently breaks with static, and it’s by far the most peaceful hour-long drive Kara has had in a while. 

They pull up to the safe house when the clock reads 8:34 PM and the rain has petered out; the air feels damp and thick with residual humidity, but otherwise, the tranquility of the quiet gives Kara a good feeling. Lena has fallen asleep in the passenger’s side, and Kara softly nudges her awake.

“Here,” Kara says, handing her James’s emergency bag once they make their way up the house steps. “This should have a change of clothes. They’ll be too big, but better than your dress at least…if you’re hungry there will be granola bars in the pantry. We can’t risk ordering anything else right now, unfortunately.” She digs into her pocket for the batch of safe house keys she has on all times and locates the right one, pressing it surely into Lena’s hand. “Until we know for sure if I’ll be briefed on your case or not, just…assume you’re going to be moved tomorrow. Also, you never saw me. Like, officially.”

Lena wipes at her eyes with her palm, absentmindedly smearing her mascara. “You’re going to leave me here?” she says, hugging James’s bag to her chest.

“No, of course not. I’m going to be sitting in the car, out here,” Kara says. “I just mean like in general, you know, if I don’t end up getting briefed on your case it would be all kinds of not-allowed to be talking to you. So if anyone asks…”

“Ah,” Lena says, “right. I’ll just make up a cover story for my cover story.”

“Yeah, you know, we need to protect the bureaucracies and all that,” Kara says. “If I'm even using that word the right way.”

“And you're supposed to be a journalist?” Lena smiles ever-so-slightly. “Good thing you're decent at your day job.”

“Only decent?” Kara feels her own mouth twitch with the promise of her own smile. 

“I'd give you five stars on Yelp,” Lena says confidently, and Kara laughs, unable to stop herself from full-on grinning.

“Well if you need anything,” Kara says, and gestures over her shoulder to the car. “You know where I'll be.”

“Thank you.” Lena places a hand over Kara’s wrist, and just squeezes there briefly, her hand slightly cold but her touch overwhelmingly gentle. “Um. Would it be—would it be allowed to ask if you can stay with me inside, instead? I don't really want to be…alone.”

“That would make plausible deniability much harder to fake,” Kara tries to protest, but Lena is biting her lip and looking at Kara underneath mascara-smudged lashes and really, there is no other option but to cave. “…but I guess I could break a rule or two. Or twenty-seven.”

Lena smiles fully this time with obvious relief. “And here I thought I'd have to work harder to corrupt you.”

Kara pushes her glasses up her nose and says, “I’m a little concerned you were planning to corrupt me, but I mean. It’s one night.” She follows Lena inside when she opens the door, surveys the untouched room with a quick, satisfied glance. “Just as long as you don’t get me into trouble.”

“I’ll try my best not to,” Lena says, making a beeline for the couch to inspect James’s emergency bag; she pulls out an oversized T-shirt with an exhausted sigh. “Can you unzip me?” Already she’s pulling her hair off her shoulders, exposing the graceful slope of her neck, and Kara almost forgets to lock the door behind her.

“Y-yeah,” she stammers out, once again fiddling with the glasses that she doesn’t need, and she knows it right then and there: Lena Luthor will undoubtedly get her in trouble. And judging by the way Lena gazes so shyly at Kara over her shoulder, she knows it.

(But, well. In the grand scheme of things, Kara figures a little trouble never hurt anyone).

[fritoley]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts 6x02 - Love, War, and Mushrooms

Previous Episode // Masterlist // Next Episode

Join the Taglist

Spoilers under the cut

CLAUDIA’S IN THE INTRO THIS TIME???

Omg wait what does that mean

AARAVOS GRABBED HER FIGURINE

Like he did in s4 when he was using viren

CORVUS WHOOOO

GAHH

They’re so gay for each other lmao

“Karim’s threats are no longer empty with General Miyana’s might behind them.”

Ok but did no one stop to think that miyana MIGHT be a little biased considering she’s karin’s literal girlfriend—

Like I would’ve kept a closer eye on her

“Based on these claw markings, she was unsteady…”

I forgot how good of a tracker Corvus is it’s nice to really see him in action

Soren grabbing Corvus’s shoulder lol

NOT THE WAY CORVUS FULL ON PULLED SOREN’S HAND OFF HIM LMAOOO—

Corvus being so done with Soren’s shit yet still humoring him is so cute

OOH you can see Karim in the reflection of the crown I love that

G U R L WHAT ARE YOU DOING—

I’m sorry the way Gren was waving that cape around trying to put out the fire is so funny—

“You think it’s edible?”

“No, and please don’t find out.”

Their banter ugh—

Soren is literally a golden retriever it’s so wild

“Why are we stopping? Do you not like my summer camp song?”

We NEED a short story of Soren at camp that would be soooo funny

I still love how Ezran and Zym can telepathically communicate it’s adorable

I hope they explain that later

Oop more mushrooms—

I swear Soren and Corvus argue like an old married couple lol

NOT THE PIGGYBACK RIDE LMAOOOOOOOO

“If I ever start to doubt you, I’ll know I am truly lost.”

See Amaya and Janai are such good examples of girlbosses who are still madly in love, want to get married, etc. it’s soooo cute

I’m not gonna get into it too much cuz i don’t like talking about politics on social media but you can still be a woman with a career and still want a to get married, still want a family and whatnot and even though amaya and janai aren’t a “traditional couple” it’s still a good example as far as feminism goes

Like this is how your portray a power couple this is the correct way right here

Notice the difference between the responses in Janai’s and Karim’s audiences. Janai’s people cheer for her because they see her as more than a queen. They see her as more than just a leader; they see her as a friend or even a sister. 

Karim’s people bow in respect, but they only acknowledge him as a commander. That kind of “respect” always fades.

“He’s got me. A good man with a big heart.”

They’re so just—

GAHH—

*dies of cuteness*

“Your brother Ezran needs you.”

Considering zubeia was the one  who ordered Harrow’s and Ezran’s deaths in s1, she prolly had the most development, except we as an audience see the least of it.

“It’s time to set a wedding.”

FINALLY WHOOO

We’re FINALLY doing this

Oh callum and rayla i forgot about them

WAIT WHAT—

WHY IS THERE AN X OVER DUREN???

Aaaaalllllright it’s really picking up now. It’s good to know zubeia’s alright, and i’m excited to see how this whole thing with janai and karim carries out. Soren and Corvus are SOOO CUTE they need to kiss already. ALSO how DARE they leave off on callum with his little key of aaravos or whatever it’s called and him MAPPING THE COORDINATES of the lines on the floor??? They better explain that i swear imma be mad if they don’t—

[cutiecorner]

Can We Fix It?

fic • caregiver J'onn J'onzz, regressor John Stewart

still on my John kick. Might write more for these two!

John was feeling under the weather. He hated to admit it, but he was. He was stubborn when it came to taking breaks from hero work - but this flu had progressed to the point he could barely stand. He laid face down on his bed, groaning through the tight pain in his stomach. His groan melted into a whine as his stomach rolled. Ugh, not this again, he found himself thinking. This flu would not make him regress, he promised himself that. Though, when he reached for the water bottle on his night stand, it spilled. He hated messes. This day just went from bad to worse. 

He took a deep breath and prepared himself to roll out of bed, preferably into a standing position. That didn’t happen though, as when he rolled over he rolled clean off the bed, into the puddle of water. John’s face twisted into a pout and he hit the ground with his fist. Ugh! Now he was all wet too? How was he gonna change his shirt if he couldn’t even get up? It was all too much. He hit the ground more and more. His mom’s voice rang through his head, John Marshall Stewart, you better fix your attitude. He stopped his flailing. His mom. He wanted his mom so bad, and the way he was acting? His mom would probably be disappointed. He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the tears from an imaginary audience. He hated regression. Hate, hate, hated it!

“John?”

A rumbling voice cut through John’s loud thoughts.

“J’onn?’ He replied.

Said martian was hovering right above him, looking worried at his spot on the floor. Everything’s fine, John thought, act casual.

“H-hey man,” John’s voice cracked. Seriously? 

“Are you alright?” J’onn asked, his voice painfully gentle, “Your tracker sent an alert that your heart rate was elevated, and I know you’re not well,”

John grimaced at the pain blooming in his back, “I’m fine. Just rolled off the bed is all.”

“Let me help you,”

Before John could protest, he was being lifted by his friend. J’onn set him back in bed, and laid the back of his hand on John’s forehead.

“Getting anything from that?” 

J’onn shrugged,“... No, but Clark did it to me when I was sick.”

They shared a laugh.

“Thanks for checking in on me, Big J,”

“Of course. It wasn’t just the sensor that sent me,”

John quirked a brow.

“Your mother wanted me to check in on you,”

John hid his face in embarrassment, mama! He grumbled.

“Think nothing of it, my friend. I’ll be staying with you to make sure you recover,”

“Oh, J’onn, you don’t have to do that.”

“Are you suggesting I disobey a direct order from Shirley Stewart?”

“Oh, yeah, you better stay.”

They laughed again.

J’onn examined John’s face closer, finding the tear stains. He reached up a hand to wipe the still-wet tracks away.

“Little one…” 

John flinched.

“Nope, nope, none of that,” John pouted. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“John, I don’t mean to assume, but if this illness is making you regress -”

“It’s not.” he huffed. J’onn retracted his hand.

“Alright, if you say so.”

John perked up at the success. Ha! He was not regressed. Even J’onn thought so.

"Will you at least let me help you out of your wet shirt?

John had already forgotten about the shirt.

"I can do it by myself, thanks,"

With great struggle (and perhaps a hand from J'onn) the shirt was discarded and replaced with a soft Howard University sweatshirt. 

“Is it okay if I put something on TV?” J'onn asked.

“Of course, I’ve got some DVDs on the shelf.”

J’onn walked over and thumbed through the shelf. A smirk crossed his face, but was quickly covered with his usual neutral expression. He popped the DVD in the player, and an animated selection screen flicked on. A familiar song started to play.

“J’onn. I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Bob the Builder? This is a kid’s show.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware. You’re the one with the DVD.”

John huffed. “Touche.”

The theme song played on. Once the episode proper began, John propped himself up to see.

“What is that?” J’onn asked, pointing at the contraption on screen.

“You’ve never seen a steam roller?”

“I don’t get out much.”

“Well, now you have,” John said, “his name is Roley.”

“Do all steam rollers have names?”

“No! Just this one!” John giggled.

…giggled?

“What are the other creatures' names?”

“They’re not really creatures, J, they’re machines,”

“Then why do they have eyes?”

“I dunno!” John was laughing now.

“Well, what are their names?”

“Okay okay… can you… can you look in that bottom drawer?”

J’onn opened the drawer, finding little plastic figures inside.

“Oh! It’s Roley!” J’onn held up the green steamroller. 

“Bring ‘em all over!”

John was sitting up in bed now, trying to curb his growing smile. J’onn spread out the toys on the bed.

“Okay so this is Scoop, he’s a backhoe loader, and Muck is a dump truck - dump trucks are my favorite - and Dizzy, a cement mixer! And Bob, obviously.”

“Bob is the only human among them? How did he come to know these sentient machines?”

John laughed, “I dunno!”

“Maybe if we watch, we’ll find out.”

“Sit here, J!” John beamed, patting the spot next to him.

“Of course, little one.”

[katiemay-025]

I Know You Well

~~~~~

~~~~~

Summary: The 3rd Quarter Quell twist has been revealed and after the initial shock wears off, you have a conversation with your lover and fellow victor where you both promise that no matter who gets reaped, there would be no volunteering. Johanna will make sure of that.

wc: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, use of y/n, violence, ptsd, swearing, Ifem!reader think that’s it.

An: I should probably make a banner for Johanna or something. Also I think I sent this head cannon to someone’s ask but I don’t remember whom I sent it to. :/

This probably would have been better as a blurb but oh well.

~~~~~

Johanna sat on the couch rolling her eyes and groaning at the sight of Katniss’ wedding gowns being presented to the audience. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table that you made and she had nothing on except a pair of fuzzy socks. “Ugh disgusting! What flock of white geese had to die for that dress?”

You chuckle at her words as you were cutting the bell pepper for dinner. “Do you mean swans, honey?”

“Absolutely not, she does not deserve swans.”

There were a total of 6 dresses to choose from and Cinna announced to the crowd that they could vote for which dress Katniss should wear. Johanna made another snide comment about making the Girl on Fire walk out in a suit of mud and call it a day. “They would definitely like that.”

“Katniss would not. I’m not too sure she’d be as comfortable as you being naked.”

Johanna cupped her own breast with a smirk. “At least I show myself off instead of being bought for it. What are they going to do? They can’t take it from me if I give it out for free.”

You tilted your head in acknowledgement of her words. It’s something you learned as a victor, watching others do the same. Finnick acted cocky as a defense mechanism. Enobaria sharpened her teeth to defend herself from the Capitol. Hell, you had done it, fiddling with your pocket saw out in the open. It was effective in scaring people away but it also gave you horrible flashbacks to your own game. What does that say about your view of the capital if you decide to willingly traumatize yourself again? Even so, after years of doing it, you’d only get flashes of the dark memory instead of a full blown panic attack. Exposure therapy at its finest.

Anyway, immediately after Cinna finishes his campaign for Katniss’ wedding dress, Snow took the podium on the raised balcony overlooking the city circle. “Why the fuck is he on our screens? As if voting for a wedding dress isn’t torturous enough.” Johanna groaned.

You put your knife down. The living room was a good 50 steps away from the kitchen counters and you placed your hands on the back of the couch watching intently. To you, the twist wouldn’t matter, you’d still have to mentor who ever the twist catered too.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Panem. This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games. When the charter of the Games was written, it dictated that every 25 years there would be a Quarter Quell… to make fresh for each new generation the memory of those killed in the rebellion against the Capitol. The Quarter Quell was reserved for the Games of special significance.”

Johanna sat up in her seat fiddling with the hilt of her axe. You noticed the slow movement of her thumb over the wooden handle before she took a breath.

“On the 25th anniversary, each district was made to vote on the tributes who should represent it. In the 50th anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, each district was required to send twice the tributes to the arena. And now on the 75th anniversary of the Rebellion, we honor our third quarter quell, as bestowed to us, by the signers of the Treaty of Treason.”

A small wooden box is carried onto the balcony by a boy dressed in white. You watch as President Snow opens the box and retrieves a yellow sealed envelope. “As a reminder that even the strongest cannot over power the Capitol, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the pool of existing victors of each district.”

The room froze, you and Johanna not daring to break the silence. Your eyes widened and you forgot to breathe. Chills traveled down your spine. Johanna reacted first gripping her axe and swinging it at the television projector with a scream, smashing it to pieces.

Your heart plunged to the ground. You were going back. Tears welled in your eyes and a lump found its way to your throat. The walls closed in around you and before it could crush you, you rushed out of the house.

Your foot caught each other on the way down the steps and you caught yourself with your hands and knees. The bushes beckoned you to them and you crawled over before dispensing the bile caught in your throat.

The fall was so fast you didn’t notice the glassy rocks that cut your knees. Only after you crawled to the log storage did you notice them. Smears of blood oozed out of your wounds and sticky red liquid coated your fingers.

Your hand began to shake.

The First Kill was never something you could get over. Her name was Olive and there was a sponsor sent to you on the 5th day, she was nearby and tried to take the gift from you. She tackled you to the ground and after a few moments of tussling in the grass, you found your saw and lodged it deep into her neck. Her blood trickled down coating your fingers as you pulled on your weapon to slice her neck. She died choking on her own blood. Your hands stained red and no matter how much you tried to scrub it off, it always remained on your hands.

Even now, as you frantically scrubbed your hands in the shed sink, it wouldn’t go away. The harder you rubbed the redder your hands got. That was how friction worked but in your state of delusion, it all looked the same.

The cascade of water stopped. As you moved your hands to the faucet, gentle hands cradled yours. A small whimper escaped your lips. You were going back. You were in the pool of existing victors. But so was Johanna. Your head snapped up spotting the younger girl focused on your reddened hands.

“Johanna.”

She let out an unamused chuckle. “I fucking trashed the house.”

“I assumed so.” You whispered. “I rubbed off the skin on my hands.”

Johanna hummed as she traced her thumb over the injury. “I know.”

You raised your arms to her to hold her face. “I need you to promise me something. Do not volunteer for me.”

She met your eyes with her own fiery ones while tilting her head. “One of us has to go in. Like hell, I’m going to let it be you.”

“I can handle myself, that’s why I’m telling you not to volunteer.”

“If you don’t volunteer then I won’t volunteer.” Johanna bargained. You went quiet pressing your lips into a thin line. Just like you knew her well enough to know she’d volunteer, she knew you well enough to know you would to. It was hypocritical so you agreed.

Johanna kept her unwavering eyes towards you. You matched her gaze until you found a soft glint in her eyes. Your shoulders relaxed as you looked a way. A deep sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, whoever gets picked for the reaping gets picked.”

“Great but we’re training for this. I am not going to have a rusty tribute as my mentee.”

~

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears and thumped against your rib cage. Your legs were wide enough for Johanna to fit between them. She stood in front of you playing with your hair as you buried your ear into her chest. Hers was almost as fast as yours but there was comfort in wrapping your arms around her.

You didn’t want to let go of Johanna. The thought of having to watch from the sidelines where you physically couldn’t protect her. The pressure in your chest felt like a bubbling volcano, stress building up before an eruption.

Usually the silence with Johanna was comfortable being able to be in the moment, in her arms. This time, the silent air was heavy. The small ticking of the clock reminded you of the looming possibility of going back to the arena.

You loved her. You made a promise not to volunteer but you had to. You had to protect her. Blight and Old Spruce came to pick you up for the reaping. When they knocked, Johanna gave you one last squeeze to your hand to comfort you. She made it a habit to hold your hands when you slipped into a memory lapse to keep you from rubbing the skin off your hands. In return you stocked and supplied the wooden logs for Johanna to split when her anger rose.

You snuck her a peck on her lips before the four of you trudged to the town square where the entirety of District 7 awaited the victors. The hot July sun did nothing to ease your worries as it heated your arms. You rocked onto your toes as the escort stepped onto the stage. It was ironic being an eligible tribute again. Seven years ago you dreaded for the slip to say your name and now seeing all the faces of District 7 on this raised platform, you prayed it was your name being called.

“Ladies First.” You stood staring out to your home. After these next moments, your life would never be the same. Either you get reaped and survive the loss of your closest friends turned enemy, Johanna is reaped and survives, you are reaped but die or Johanna is reaped but dies. The loss of it all would turn anyone insane.

Technically, you didn’t promise, you only agreed because it would get Johanna to not volunteer. So you could and you would. To your right, you could see Johanna eyeing you and you returned a glare.

“The female tribute from District 7 is...” He paused for dramatic effect and your heartbeat rose in your throat. Let it be me. Let it be me Let it be me. “Johanna Mason.” Your heart plummeted before turning your head to the escort. You weren’t going to accept this.

Before you could even open your mouth to object, you felt a sharp pain on your nose and a small pop in your neck from the force. Your head hit the ground and everything went black.

When you came to, you were on the train staring straight at Blight across from you on the table. “What the fuck happened?”

“Oh she’s back.” Spruce called. “You were out of it for about 30 minutes.”

“What do you remember?” Blight asked.

“Johanna was reaped and then it felt like my nose exploded.” You say wincing at the pain on the bridge of your nose. You groaned holding your head.

“Doc says you got a broken nose and a concussion.”

“Where’s Johanna?”

“The peacekeepers restrained her in her room.” The escort called. “She knocked you out in one go. She must’ve been so pissed that she was picked.” You shared a look with your fellow victors. The escort hadn’t been here to watch your relationship with Johanna. Both of you were great about hiding your relationship during the annual hunger games.

“So which of you got reaped?”

Blight took a deep breath. He took a swig of his alcohol laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Can’t believe they’re making me go back after 20 something years.”

“So you and I are mentors.” Spruce solemnly said patting you on the shoulder. “Should I take Johanna?” He asked keeping up with appearances. Ironically it was like the 71st Hunger Games again. Mentoring was set by priority. Old Spruce had said yes to mentoring while the others said no meaning you had no choice but to mentor Johanna. This time you could choose her.

“No. No I’ll talk to her.”

“Take things slowly okay, you took a big fall.”

“Yes dad.” You joked. Dad was nice, ‘Old Spruce’ was pushing 65. He had been your mentor during your games and continued to take care of you afterwards.

The walk to Johanna’s room was short luckily. A peacekeepers stood outside the door and you smiled at him. “Hi I’m here to talk to my mentee.” He looked at you and stepped aside. As soon as the door slid closed, you looked at Johanna. “You fucking bitch.”

She turned her attention to you from the fuzzes of green zooming past the window. A soft smile plastered on her face. “You promised you weren’t going to volunteer.”

“Technically I didn’t. I agreed so you wouldn’t volunteer. We didn’t shake on it or pinky promise or sign a contract so….”

“You were going to volunteer.”

“Yes.”

“Great I’m glad I know you well enough.”

“Decking me in the face was part of the plan?”

“Absolutely.” You stared at her unamused. “Don’t look at me like that. We both know we were going to break that promise to protect the other. Maybe you planned that all along or it was a last minute thought but I saw the look on your face. I anticipated it and knocked you out before you could.” Johanna told shrugging her shoulders as she walked towards you.

“You broke my nose.”

“It’s better than you dead.” Johanna countered. “I said I wasn’t going to let you go back in. I made that promise to myself and I kept it.”

“What do I do if I lose you? Do you think you’re the only one who loves in this relationship.”

Johanna held onto your waist. “First, avenge me. Second, none of us want the other to go in but someone is going to be forced to. I’m sorry, I’d rather it be me than you. You would be safer.”

“Safe is a relative term and when did you become such a sap?”

“Oh you know, since I started dating the best girl I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up.”

“Why don’t you make me.”

You closed the gap and let your lips meld with the younger girl. Slowly, the two of you walked towards her bed. She sat on her bed and you climbed on top of her with little room to breathe. Johnna wrapped her arms around the back of your neck to bring you in closer deepen the kiss. She flipped you over before nuzzling her face into your neck.

You held her in your arms playing with her hair. Lulling yourself to sleep. “Don’t die okay.” You whispered.

“I won’t.”

“I do hope you break your nose though.”

“Ugh get over it.”

“No! Although it was a smart countermove.”

“Thank you. I thought long and hard about it for all of 5 seconds after you first told me not to volunteer.”

“Well that’s the last time I trust you.” You joked.

“You love me.”

“I do. I know you do too.”

“Yeah, I do.” Johanna sighed. The both of you laid motionless embracing the other, enjoying the moment.

[sukunasweetheart]

Headcanons for sukuna as a volleyball player - idk if i wanted this to be set during highschool or not so i guess it'll be kinda generic or all over the place haha,, dedicated to @luvkun4 my love, who likes haikyuu and sukuna so its a perfect combo for her

warnings; NSFW, throat fucking, rough and angry sex, degradation, femme reader, youre kinda his pocket pu$$y but also his sweet gf, minor angst but with happy end -- this wouldve been a good fic but i dont have the energy for a fully written fic nowadays, im alr working on a billion rn

edit; THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LENGTHYY sorry, i wanted to add in the drama

right.. idk from where i should unpack this

we all know... sukuna would be competitive as fuck.

i know for a fact that he hates losing so much

which is what makes him such a good player tbh, the balls not gonna touch the ground as long as hes around

he’s a wing spiker, and definitely the ace (cough, totally not inspired by this gorgeous fanart)

hes so mean and arrogant but is willing to demonstrate teamwork in order to win and so theres obvious respect between him and his teammates

uraume is the manager, tho its clear that they favour sukuna the most pff

sukunas such a powerful player, no one can beat him one on one and hes so sexy when hes playing seriously

volleyball sukuna and his fuckin horse cock, u bet u wanna get wrecked by his shii

problem is, i cant find a creative way of how yall first met 

idk, probably through mutual friends, out in a big group at a restaurant ?? maybe you hooked up with him afterwards and you both caught feelings for each other

yeah something along those lines

anyway ofc seggs after matches are a regular thing haha

its almost an expectation that you come to see his games now

here comes the smut smut smut

vb sukuna would totally drag you into the unisex bathrooms so you can “help him relax” right before the game starts...

nothing like cumming down your throat to get him all warmed up

and youre such a whore for him, you can never say no bc YOU DONT WANT TOOO <3

even tho you make a fuss about the icky floor pfft, he grunts and lays a bunch of toilet paper for u to kneel on, what a gentleman

his soft groans as he lodges his thick cock into your warm mouth, and then pushing your head down to go even deeper

the pleasures just too great, the thrilling mixture of being in a public toilet right before a big match, fucking your tight throat raw

and your teary eyes, fluttering your lashes up at him with a mouthful of dick, he could laugh from how adorable you look

after hes done spurting stringy thick ropes of his seed down your esophagus hes just: “thanks babe... you sucked the nerves right outta me.”

and you know its bullshit bc hes smirking in that sarcastic way, and its a fact that sukuna doesnt know what it feels to be nervous!!!

lucky for you, he treats you better than anyone else - he wipes your mouth and kisses you before parting ways with you

likes to give you another smirk once he finds you amongst the audience

its crazy how much energy he still has after games

on the rare occasions when his team loses... oh boy

100% takes his frustration out using sex

just thinking abt the simmering anger...practically throws you onto his bed

pins your body down and slamming into you with his whole body weight

ruins you so bad, bruises and bites literally everywhere

but like... you’re into that shit

butterflies in stomach whenever the other team ends up winning

“ugh...fuckin’ squeezing me like that... you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“maybe you like it when i lose a game. what a whore.”

“sukuna...sukuna, too bi-big..”

“oh? and you’d think this cunt would be pretty used to it by now,” he responds cockily. it turns you on when he uses such vulgar language.

spills so many loads into you, youre like a cream filled donut by the end

spanks you too, handprints on your ass and all - omg imagine the strength as a vb player

the aftercare is nice, usually he brings you to the bath immediately and check you out if you need ointment applied to your skin or vice versa

but it wouldnt be surprising if he got lazy with it on some days, especially after an exhausting game, having sex on top of that is gotta be tough

also he spends a lot of time training and practicing, which adds to your loneliness

sometimes you overthink it and feel like youre just being used, but instead of communicating it, you just act more sensitively around him

and vb sukuna sucks at picking up the small cues, so he just thinks youre being unreasonable

the two of you get into a pretty heated argument which ends with you storming off one time

theres a bit of silent treatment going on, but then afterwards you start talking with him “normally” again

theres an obvious distance growing between you and him, and your attitude is colder than it used to be. sukuna thinks its something thatll pass sooner or later

but then you text him, saying that you wont be able to come and see his game

thats not right. hes had a few fights with you before, but you’ve never skipped out on coming to watch him like this, ever.

but being a prideful tsundere he is, he just replies with a “do whatever you want” before chucking his phone off to the side (which he checks later again, to see if you said anything more after that. you didnt.)

on the day of the match, hes constantly checking the crowd if youre there

its not like *glance* he cares *glance* about you coming *glance* or anything *glance*

his mates raise eyebrows and tell him to focus properly and hes never looked scarier lmao

they won in the end, but the taste of victory isnt the same

the group wants to celebrate and go to some restaurant to eat but he skips out and goes home alone

and when he opens his door to an empty and dark living room, he cant shake off the feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach

totally doesnt google search “signs of an incoming breakup”

feels worse afterwards

eats a nice and nutritious meal he cooked for himself, but it tastes kinda like cardboard

i said previously that sukuna doesnt know what feeling nervous is, but now he does, hes terrified youre gonna pull the breakup card on him, he wont know how to deal with that

he has a feeling that if he doesnt do something about this now, he will lose his chance forever

sukuna calls you but you dont pick up

he finds his way to your front door and rings the bell, and you call out from the other side asking him what he wants from you

“why didnt you pick up any of my calls? i want to talk.”

he hates how whiny he sounds.

you crack open the door ever so slightly, so only one of your eyes are visible to him

“about what?”

“about... this. about us.”

“...you’ve been crying. let me in.”

he gently pushes open your door and you stand out of the way, letting him

...and he starts with an apology. about saying mean things to you during the argument, about acting like he doesnt care when he does (he cares so much abt you that it drives him mad), pretending not to notice how upset you were

you watch him sternly, but end up bursting into tears bc youre so relieved he came out and admitted to his faults, and that theres hope for this relationship

youre bawling as he pulls you into his arms, and you confess that not going to see him and treating him coldly was the hardest thing youve ever done in your life

sukunas so relieved you still feel deeply for him, and simultaneously upset bc youre upset

you reveal that youve been feeling neglected, feeling like he only liked you for your body, and you too, apologise for not communicating that and acting sensitively instead

hes appalled, calls you an idiot but then retracts that statement and denies ever having thought in that way

the two of you snuggle up so close together in your bed, communicating and chatting and catching up for hours while he occasionally eyes the mountain of used tear-filled tissues in your room, rather concerned

for a while, he doesnt initiate sexual activity unless you specifically want it bc he wants to prove he likes spending quality time with you just as much <3

and when sex does eventually happen, he makes it very romantic and meaningful, with proper aftercare, continuously whispering “i love you,” throughout

and he shall do anything to have you keep loving him back.

some general stuff with vb sukuna:

mad tall. i wont give an exact number but anywhere between 195 - 200cm tall :>

mad horny. hes like an animal

hes such a big eater,, i mean, i see sukuna as a big eater in any au but this one in particular bc hes an athlete haha

u probably make protein shakes for him and stuff, but hes not rly on a strict diet or anything, he just eats anything and everything

has a lotta fangirls >:( but he ignores them now, after he met you >:) but before, he probably played around a lot and hooked up with some >:( he never liked any of them to stick around, tho >:) except you >:)

goes on morning runs, at like 6am and gives u a kiss on the cheek beforehand

is so fucking touchy clingy, always needs you on his lap, hands under your skirt or shirt

the last guy who tried to hit on you got a nosebleed, getting hit with a volleyball (its so funny, he changed his aim mid-spike during a practice match)

haha he was sent to the bench for that one (everyone was chuckling behind their hands)

the headband was given to him by you, bc he once complained abt having to gel his hair every morning + gel doesnt keep his hair in shape when hes sweating excessively

thats all for today <3 thanks for reading

Masterlist

tagging; @yuujispinkhair @moonchild-artemisdaughter @skunaskitten

[rottenpumpkin13]

How does an award ceremony dinner for the Firsts go horribly wrong?

The Award ceremony (from hell)

• After a year of successful military conquests, it's time for Shinra to honor its soldiers and military personnel, and the First Class trio is no exception.

• To commemorate the SOLDIER program, Shinra hosts a MANDATORY award ceremony dinner.

• Unfortunately for the First Class, this award ceremony comes with strings. Sephiroth is expected to give a speech, Genesis has a personal affair on the same night, and Lazard passed the duty of green-lighting the menu onto Angeal.

• All three of them are stressed. Sephiroth trusts his ability to write a speech just fine; it's the prospect of speaking on a stage with a hundred eyes on him that freaks him out.

• Angeal is going over the menu options and cursing Lazard for—quote—trusting his better judgment.

• Meanwhile, Genesis is feigning nonchalance. He's confident that he can attend to his personal affair and be back for the award ceremony all in one night.

• The award ceremony dinner arrives. Sephiroth and Angeal enter the ceremony hall dressed to the nines, the former with a stack of cards in his shaking hands.

Angeal: You know, if no one likes the food, I'm blaming Lazard. I don't know the first thing about fancy dinners.

Sephiroth (exasperated): I wish I had your problems. Meanwhile, I fear I'm going to throw up the minute I step foot on that stage.

Angeal: Oh, well, don't eat the shrimp.

• Sephiroth gives him a critical look.

Angeal: Oh, don't give me that look. I don't know what you're so worried about, anyway. You're Sephiroth. You could go up on that stage and talk about the consistency of chocolate milk, and everyone will still eat it up.

Sephiroth: Ugh. Have you heard anything from Genesis?

Angeal: No, and I haven't seen him since this morning.

Sephiroth: Huh, how odd. I saw him a few hours ago before he left. He was wondering if I had any spare bobby pins to lend him

Angeal: What was he up to?

Sephiroth: I don't know, but he smelled like women's perfume—*Sephiroth gags*

Angeal: Woah, you okay?

Sephiroth: It's the nerves.

• Angeal sees a waiter walk by with a tray of champagne and whisks a glass away.

Angeal: Here, have some alcohol. It'll calm you down.

• Sephiroth takes a reluctant sip, willing to try anything to calm himself down.

Sephiroth: Oh... this tastes nice!

Angeal: See? Just don't drink too mu—

• Sephiroth downs the champagne in one go and reaches for a glass of wine from a passing waiter. He downs that in one go too.

Angeal: Oh boy.

• Angeal leaves for the kitchens to make sure everything is according to plan. Meanwhile Sephiroth is too busy drowning himself in alcohol.

• By the time the award ceremony begins, the man is WASTED.

• Angeal is sitting at a table with Zack and Kunsel. Everyone's eating dinner. At the table adjacent to theirs, Heidegger, Scarlet and the rest of the board dig into their food. Angeal overhears everything.

Scarlet: My, this coq-au-vin tastes dreadful!

Heidegger: Utterly inedible!

Scarlet: The meat is clearly low quality and whoever thought pairing this with pasta is a proper barbarian.

• Angeal starts convulsing in his seat.

Zack: Ignore them, 'Geal.

Kunsel: Yeah, I think the food tastes fine.

Zack: ...

Zack: Kunsel?

Kunsel: Yes?

Zack: You haven't eaten a single bite.

• Sephiroth takes the stage with a wave of applause. He's stumbling, disheveled, and smiling like an idiot.

Sephiroth: Okay! Genuine, question. Show of hands, who pines for the sweet release on the daily? Eh? Eh?

• The audience laughs, unsure if Sephiroth is joking.

Sephiroth: I was told to prepare a speech, but I did not bother memorizing it, dunked my cue cards in the punch, and now I frankly don't give a shit anymore.

Zack (whispering to Kunsel): Is he drunk?

Kunsel: Nah.

• Back on the stage, Sephiroth tries to unscrew the microphone from the stand, struggling at first, but finally freeing it with a violent yank. He then launches the microphone stand into the crowd, where it knocks out Professor Hojo in one swift move. The audience gasps.

Kunsel: Oh he's hammered.

• Meanwhile, Angeal is quietly seething with rage as Heidegger and Scarlet continue to joke about the food.

• On the stage, Sephiroth loosens his tie.

Sephiroth: Instead of a speech, I find it much more productive to have a conversation. So here's my opinion about every single one of you. *He points at President Shinra in the crowd* Starting with you, Colonel Sanders.

• Meanwhile, Genesis rushes back into the building. He's almost grateful his costume makes him unrecognizable, he'd be utterly humiliated if people knew that the Genesis Rhapsodos was late.

• He pulls up the hem of his dress as he steps into the elevator, adjusting his corset with one final huff. He made it. Good. Now he can—

• Genesis pales as he looks to his left. Leaning against the elevator mirror is Rufus Shinra, looking utterly enchanted.

Rufus: Good evening.

Genesis: ...Hi?

Rufus: I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you. What's your name?

• Genesis is both relieved that he doesn't recognize him and a little stunned.

Genesis: Uh...Gen...ee, Genny! I'm Genny, nice to meet you.

Rufus: What an enchanting young woman. Are you unaccompanied? Going to the award ceremony, perhaps?

Genesis: *panicking* Yes.

Rufus: What a coincidence. I was heading over there myself. You wouldn't mind keeping me company, would you?

• The elevator door opens just in time.

Genesis: Oh, look at the time! I gotta go!

• He runs out, leaving Rufus swooning in the elevator.

Rufus: I have found the future Mrs. Shinra. *he runs after him*

• Meanwhile, Sephiroth is giving the speech of the century.

Sephiroth: Oh! Here's a joke, why did the chicken cross the road? Any guesses? Anyone? TO GO SEE HER MOTHER BECAUSE CHICKENS HAVE MOTHERS. *He points at palmer* STOP EATING THAT CHICKEN WING, PALMER.

• Palmer, terrified, drops his chicken wing.

• Meanwhile, Angeal is slowly rocking back and forth as he listens to Heidegger and Scarlet's critique.

Heidegger: Ha! As if that chicken was edible.

Scarlet: So dry, right?

• Angeal slams his fist down on the table and stands up.

Angeal: THAT'S IT. DON'T LIKE IT? DON'T EAT IT! STARVE!

Heidegger: Don't yell at me, Hewley! If you have a problem with me, come over here and let's settle it like men.

• Angeal grabs a handful of pasta and launches it at Heidegger. This makes Heidegger grab a handful of mashed potatoes and throw it back at Angeal.

• Zack takes the golden opportunity to leap up on the table and yell "FOOD FIGHT!"

• It takes .2 seconds for the entirety of the Third Class to comply, turning the award ceremony into a juvenile chaos. Meanwhile, Sephiroth is still going at it while people throw food at each other

Sephiroth: —which is why I think that if you think human experimentation is ethical, DON'T HAVE CHILDREN! ABSTAIN FROM INTERCOURSE! WRAP YOUR WEANER!

• Meanwhile, Genesis comes rushing into the ceremony hall. He doesn't even care about the food fight, he's too busy trying to get away from Rufus. So he ducks under the first table he sees.

Genesis: Ah, greetings.

Angeal: WHY ARE YOU A WOMAN?

Zack: Wow, Angeal, that's a little sexist.

Kunsel: Yeah, be nice to the lady.

Genesis: It's me. Genesis.

Angeal: Explain, Gen.

Genesis: Look, the why's and how's of my fabulous look are irrelevant right now! We have a problem!

Angeal: Tell me about it. Sephiroth is drunkenly airing out his woes and I just saw president Shinra get hit with an entire platter of shrimp.

Kunsel: Thanks to Zack.

Zack: Hey, it was Angeal who started it!

Angeal: And it was you who instigated it!

Genesis: Guys! Rufus is in love with me because he thinks I'm a girl! I lied to him in the elevator because I was under pressure! Do you have any idea how much trouble I'm gonna be in when he finds out!?

Zack: So you bagged a billionaire and you're complaining?

Genesis: ZACK!

Zack: Fine, fine. Give me your key card and wait here. I'll go get your guy clothes and you can change.

Genesis: Thank you.

Angeal: In the meantime, Kunsel, come help me drag Sephiroth from the stage.

• They emerge from under the table to find Tseng and Reno trying to wrestle the microphone away from Sephiroth.

Reno: Let go, man! You've had enough!

Tseng: I agree, Sephiroth. How about we go get you into bed? Hm?

Reno: Yeah, and then—AYE! HE'S BITING ME HE'S BITING ME HE'S—

• Tseng panics and punches Sephiroth in the face, knocking him out instantly. Angeal and Kunsel watch on in horror.

Kunsel: Uhh...I guess that means we don't have to do anything?

Angeal: We run.

• They take off amidst the chaos.

• Zack returns a few minutes later with a tuxedo and makeup wipes. He slips under the table and helps Genesis get dressed.

• When they emerge, they're dodging flying wads of food and rushing towards the exit. That is until they bump into Rufus Shinra.

Rufus: Ah, Gentlemen, have you perhaps seen this tall, gorgeous ginger in a red dress? Her name was Genny and she smelled like—*sniff sniff*

• Rufus pauses, sniffing the air. Genesis starts receding, trying to hide behind Zack. It's no use, Rufus recognizes the scent instantly. Fury blazes in his eyes as he looks at Genesis.

Rufus: Y O U.

Genesis: ZACK RUN!

• Genesis and Zack take off screaming as Rufus chases them.

• Moral of the story: Don't abuse alcohol, don't lose your temper, and don't let your boss's son fall in love with the gender-bent version of you.