#First Hawaiian Bank
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𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!
nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader
the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.
7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome
a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3
The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.
The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.
“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"
Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.
Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.
You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"
He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"
"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”
“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”
Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”
“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”
“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.
As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”
You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”
“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.
You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”
Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”
“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.
“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.
“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”
“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”
Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.
“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”
He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”
You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”
“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.
The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.
Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”
“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.
He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”
“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.
You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”
“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”
You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”
“Took you that long to notice?”
You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.
With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.
A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)
“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”
All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.
“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.
Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”
Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.
“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.
Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”
A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”
From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”
Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”
“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.
And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.
Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”
“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.
You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”
“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”
“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.
You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”
“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”
San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”
Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.
San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?
“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.
His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”
Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”
San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”
For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”
“And why not? He's a nice dude.”
“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”
San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”
“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.
He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.
San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”
Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”
“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”
“So you want me to be a parasite?”
San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”
“Parasitism, it is!”
As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.
Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.
You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)
When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.
When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.
You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.
Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”
Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”
Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.
You blinked. What in the world…?
Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”
“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”
Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”
Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.
Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”
“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.
“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”
“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.
Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”
You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.
His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”
“Jung,” you mused back.
“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”
Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”
He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.
Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”
Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’
You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.
Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.
“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?
When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.
Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”
His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”
You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.
From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.
“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)
A snort from Hyunjin.
Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”
By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.
Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a paradise about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.
At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”
You nodded. “Sounds good.”
As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’
“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.
From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”
When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.
It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—
A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.
You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.
But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—
You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.
Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.
“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)
Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.
“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.
He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”
You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.
“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”
You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”
He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”
“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”
Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”
A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.
As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.
But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.
“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.
He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”
For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”
“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.
Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.
The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.
Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.
Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”
“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”
“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.
“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.
Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”
You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”
“Do I get something in return?”
“I don't know, your jacket?”
He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”
“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.
The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”
You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”
“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.
“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.
Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”
It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.
Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.
Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.
Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.
“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.
One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.
Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"
“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”
Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.
Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.
You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”
“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?
Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.
“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”
“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”
“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.
His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”
Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”
“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.
Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.
Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.
There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”
Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.
“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”
“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—
San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”
“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)
San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.
Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.
You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.
“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.
Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”
“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”
You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”
The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”
“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.
A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”
You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”
He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.
You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”
“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.
You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.
Your car doors slammed in tandem.
“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.
The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.
There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)
Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.
You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.
A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.
You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”
“Uh oh,” you joked.
He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”
Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.
Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.
“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”
“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.
“You're not wrong.”
Your head tilted to the side. “So?”
“So?”
You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.
Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”
“Huh?”
“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.
Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.
At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”
You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”
“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”
“Jung. Jung, wait—”
“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”
“Wooyoung.”
He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.
Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”
“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.
“Hey!”
He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”
You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.
“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”
He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”
In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”
“I like you—I do.”
“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”
In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.
Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”
“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.
You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”
“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”
“What's that?”
“I think I like being your lover boy.”
You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”
Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”
Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”
“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”
How could you refuse?
He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.
When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.
“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.
God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.
When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.
“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.
He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”
“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.
a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @atzhouse @kflixnet
#kflixnet#atzhouse#ateez x reader#jung wooyoung x reader#wooyoung x reader#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#ateez drabbles#jung wooyoung imagines#jung wooyoung fluff#jung wooyoung scenarios#jung wooyoung oneshots#jung wooyoung drabbles#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung oneshot#wooyoung scenarios
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Naomi Shihab Nye, “First Hawaiian Bank.” Red Suitcase
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Dear Trader Joe’s: You’re Fired
You know, I was really fond of your Trader Joe’s stores when I first shopped there. Lots of great stuff! Usually reasonable prices! Cool shirts! Generally happy workers!
But now the shine is off the rose. Some of your stuff is still great, sure, but most of it I can find elsewhere. Many of your prices are above what I’d pay elsewhere. The shirts are still decent, but nothing like the sea of Hawaiian-themed prints of the aughts.
That’s not enough to make me stop shopping at your stores.
Your employees are not so happy any more and are trying to unionize. They’ve encouraged shoppers like me to keep coming to your stores because they are invested in keeping the business going. That could keep me coming to the store.
In response, you have tried telling your employees that you’re still a great place to work. Their reply? “Nah, if you were we wouldn’t need to unionize.”
That’s not enough to make me stop working at your stores either, because your workers asked. Support the workers!
But now, in your attempts to stop your labor force from unionizing, you’re trying to undermine the National Labor Relations Act and the National Labor Relations Board in court, trying to get them declared unconstitutional.
Unions help raise all workers wages. The more unions and union employees are out there, the more the wages go up for both union and non-union employees.
You are actively trying to undermine the wages of not just your employees, but also many of your customers, myself included — just so you can sock another seven to eight figures in your bank account every year.
So, in short: it’s not me, it’s you. You’re trying to hurt me, my family and my community. That is more than enough to make me stop shopping at your stores, and plenty enough to make me want you to leave my community.
You’re fired, Trader Joe’s. Good luck finding another sucker to shop in your stores.
Oh, and Amazon and Muskrat? I haven’t forgotten you. Your walking papers are in process.
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A bunch of incorrect quotes just cuz I'm bored and these are funny. I might have went over board and no I'm not sorry.
Jon: I am an expert at identifying birds.
Gerry: Okay, what about those ones flying over there?
Jon: Yeah, they're all birds.
Gerry: What’s up with you?
Jon: What do you mean?
Gerry: You’ve been nice and helpful and considerate all day. What’s your game?
Gerry: *makes Mike a cup of tea but puts salt in it*
Mike: *sips tea*
Gerry:
Mike: *finishes tea*
Gerry: Didn't it taste bad?
Mike: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all.
Gerry, tearing up: Oh, okay.
Tim, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day?
Gerry: …
Gerry: What’s in the box?
Tim: What woul-
Gerry: Tim, what’s in the box?
Tim: I think you know.
Jon: What did you two do?
Mike:
Tim:
Jon: You’re not in trouble, I just need to know if I have to lie to the police again or not.
Gerry: Why would I flip my shit about that?
Tim: Because you flip your shit about everything.
Gerry: Well, will you look at this. Here is my shit, and yet it remains unflipped. Just sitting there on the skillet, getting burned on one side. It’s a miracle.
Jon: Mike, we're hungry!
Gerry: Mike! What's for dinner?
Tim: We're hungry, Mike!
Mike, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*
Tim, tearing up the room: Where are they?
Tim, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?
Tim: Somebody moved my M&M's, and now I am going to start killing.
Jon: If you water water, it grows.
Mike: ...What.
Tim: They've got a point.
Jon: What are you two arguing about this time?
Mike: They’re always using common phrases incorrectly!
Gerry: Cry me a table, Mike.
Jon: *Locks Mike in the car.* Act like a child, get treated like a child.
Mike: What? Isn't it illegal to leave a child locked in a car?
Jon: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.
Mike, used to Jon being dumb: Sure...
Jon: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.
Mike: Okay?
Jon: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.
Mike:
Jon: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-
Mike: Jesus, that one is a little-
Gerry, interested: No, no, Jon, keep going.
Tim: Gerry? What are you doing here?
Gerry, wearing a hawaiian shirt, sunglasses and holding a gatorade: My best.
Jon, texting Tim: I’m a theif.
Tim: Thief.
Jon: Theif.
Tim: I before E except after C.
Jon: Thceif.
Tim: NO.
Mike, slamming pots and pans together to the rhythm of "Give it to me, I'm worth it": I didn't get no sleep cause a' y'all! Y'all never gonna sleep cause a' me!
Jon: Sometimes I get so caught up on being gay that I forget I’m actually bi.
*at a zoo*
Daisy: What are they in for?
Not Sasha: Daisy, this isn't prison.
Daisy: So they can leave?
Not Sasha: No, but-
Daisy, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.
Daisy: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what I meant.
Kevin, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you.
Not Sasha, who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please.
Kevin: Coming right up.
Daisy: As you know I keep a list of all my friends in order of how likely they are to betray me.
Mike: Where am I on the list?
Daisy: Well I can’t tell you that because then you’ll quickly move up or down depending on your reaction.
Daisy: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying.
Not Sasha: And?
Daisy: And you are.
Kevin: A banker? Me?
Melanie: Yes, Kevin.
Kevin: But I don’t know anything about running a bank!
Melanie: Good. No preconceived ideas.
Kevin: I’ve robbed banks!
Melanie: Capital! Just reverse your thinking. The money should be on the inside.
Tim: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.
Mike, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.
Gerry: Awww, why don't you like cats, Daisy? They're just snuggly buddies! They have toe beans! They make a little blep! What's not to love??
Daisy: I don't know Gerry, I just prefer to be conscious instead of dead on the floor.
Gerry:
Daisy: I'm ALLERGIC.
Tim: Made you all playlists!
Tim: Gerry, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul.
Tim: Kevin, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.
Tim: And Melanie has the ABBA Gold album.
Not Sasha, excitedly: Heeyy!!
Daisy: Hey, someone's excited.
Melanie, deadpan: Yeah, and it's making me sick.
Daisy: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Martin and Jon's convo?
Gerry: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.
Tim: I'm in the washing machine.
Mike: I'm in the closet.
Gerry: We accept you Mike. <3
Mike: No I'm literally in the closet.
Gerry: Love is love. <3
Kevin: Who hurt you?
Not Sasha: *snorting* What, do you want a list?
Kevin: ...Yes, actually.
Melanie: This can’t get any worse. Can it?
Tim: Sure it can - just give me a minute.
Helen: Hey, Sasha, where are you going?
Sasha: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell.
Sasha: But right now I’m going to McDonald’s.
Gerry: Mike said its my turn with the brain cell.
Sasha: Square up.
Kevin: Sometimes I like to place my hands on someone’s cheeks, look into their eyes...
Kevin: ...And violently jerk their head until it snaps.
Basira: ...That took an unexpected turn.
Melanie: So did their neck.
Sasha: If I say yes am I joining a cult?
Jon: Possibly.
Sasha: I’m in.
Martin: I think this might be a bad idea...
Tim: Don't start thinking on me now!
Melanie: Basira, I know you love Helen. I mean, we all do, they’re a very nice person and I respect them immensely.
Melanie: But I think they might be a fucking idiot.
Basira: *cooking*
Melanie: *kicks down door*
Melanie: *grabs knife from Basira's hand*
Melanie: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR?
Basira:
Basira: What.
Martin: They're trying to tell you they want to cook.
Sasha: Kevin and I were crossing the street, and this man drove by and honked at us.
Michael: What did you do?
Sasha: They chased him to the next red light, and reached into his window, and-
Kevin: *walking in* Who wants a steering wheel?
#daycare au#the magnus nightvale daycare au#chaos#the magnus archives#gerard keay#jonathan sims#michael distortion#not sasha#welcome to nightvale#incorrect quotes#sasha james#mike crew#melanie king#basira hussain#martin blackwood#daisy tonner#kevin wtnv#they're all dumbasses your honor
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Thanksgiving | Sub Rosa (Prequel) | Bradley Bradshaw x Kazansky!Reader
Synopsis: The thanksgiving that Bradley and Reader met and got together <3
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (pls make good decisions), oral (f receiving), sneaking around
…
“Yes, you do have to go, Thanksgiving is a time to be with family.” Your Father answered, grabbing his keys from the counter and shooting you a stern look. You waited for him to turn his back before you rolled your eyes at him.
You were back home for four days over the course of Thanksgiving break, and your parents had been ridiculously busy for the entirety of it. You had spent the past two days bored out of your mind in your childhood bedroom. And today, on Thanksgiving, you weren’t even doing normal family celebrations.
Your parents were dragging you halfway up the coast to have dinner with an old friend of your father. Admiral Tom Kazansky had hundreds of friends — this one you had met many times throughout your life. Pete Mitchell was constantly popping up. He would disappear for years at a time of different deployments but always show back up eventually.
You sighed softly, dragging your feet as you followed your parents out to the SUV. You were the youngest of four children, completing the final year of your aerospace engineering degree.
You had two older sisters, both of whom worked at private investment banks in New York, and an older brother who was almost done with med school. Success was a very sensitive topic in your household.
The issue was that your three siblings were all very close in age, all in their thirties now, whilst you had been born eleven years later. Your mother still insisted that you weren’t an accident. Your siblings begged to differ. Subsequently, you had always been treated very differently to them.
You sat in the very back of your father’s SUV, slipping your earphones in your ears and staring out of the window as your family drove the thirty miles to Pete’s house.
Pete had been in Top Gun with your father back in the 80s, your father spoke about their stories often but you had only met him a handful of times. He had only moved back down to San Diego recently.
He had a house near the beach with his new girlfriend and her daughter. He was hosting thanksgiving for the first time ever, apparently, since before this he had always lived quite a bachelor lifestyle.
You weren’t expecting to have much fun at all.
Your siblings were there before you. They were closer with Pete, he was the godfather of your two older sisters. Still, you obediently followed your siblings into the house and smiled politely through the introductions.
“So this is Penny’s daughter, Amelia,” Pete put his hand out and rested it against the girl’s shoulder. “And Rooster is around here somewhere.”
You furrowed your eyebrows for just a moment, wondering what kind of horrible parent named their child that, before realising it was absolutely a call sign. Your father hadn’t warned you that Maverick had a son in the Navy.
You wondered how you hadn’t ever met him. However, on cue, a tall man stepped into the living room, a beer in his hand.
“Bradshaw.” Your father smiled first, stepping forward and shaking the young pilot’s hand.
You looked him over. Taller than your father, sandy brown hair, tanned skin, broad shoulders. He was wearing a Hawaiian button up and denim shorts in the middle of November. He was older than you.
How had you never known that Pete had a son that was older than you? — Why hadn’t Pete ever brought him to visit?
“Good to see you, kid,” Your father truly did seem pleased to see him. “How did I not know you were back in the States?”
“Only here for two weeks, Sir,” It was once he started to speak that you noticed the pornstache across his upper lip. You unconsciously scrunched your nose, wondering how women fell for that crap. “Just on leave.”
He turned his head toward you, unashamedly looking you over behind your father’s back, then looking sweetly back at his superior like you hadn’t just seen him.
“Have you ever met my youngest?” I’ve asked, stepping out of the way and putting his hand on your shoulder. The young pilot smiled down at you, giving his head a soft shake and extending his hand toward you.
You looked down at the extended palm as you slid yours into it, noticing how his hand dwarfed yours.
“Rooster.” He announced, squeezing his hand around yours and giving it a small shake.
“Y/N.” You answered quietly, dropping both hands back down to your sides.
“She’s my little angel,” Ice explained, smiling at you. You watched Rooster bring his beer up to his lips and taking a sip, eyes never leaving yours. “She’s finishing up her time at Stanford this year. Remind me where it was you went, Bradshaw?”
You scrunched your brows slightly at him, his lip quirking in response. He finally tore his eyes for you and looked back at your father, continuing their conversation.
“Amelia, why don’t you take Y/N go and hang out in the den?”
Your lips parted at your mother’s suggestion. She could not seriously be banishing you to hang out with the fourteen year old.
Feeling eyes on you, you glanced back to find Rooster smirking at you over his beer, amused. You shot him a look, then looked apologetically towards Amelia — who looked about as excited about being banished as you did.
“At least it gets us out of helping.” Amelia mumbled as she stepped past you and motioned for you to follow her through to the den. You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, nodding your head a little.
You dropped down onto the couch and pulled out your phone. Making conversation with Amelia wasn’t the easiest, she was busily typing away on her phone - probably texting about how ridiculous it was that she was exiled to the den with someone she had never met.
The two of you made polite conversation every now and again, mostly paying attention to your phones, over an episode of The Office. This went on for the next forty minutes.
Amelia barely glanced up from her phone at the sound of someone entering the room, until she clocked that it was Rooster.
“Dinner almost ready?” She pushed herself up a little from her slumped position on the couch. You unconsciously did the same, fixing your hair a little.
Rooster leaned against the entryway, nodding and pushing one hand into the front pocket of his denim shorts, “Like thirty minutes. How’s it going in here?”
“We’re bored.” Amelia answered for you both.
Rooster looked over at you and smiled, nodding his head in slight agreement, “I see that.” You saw the face that Amelia made. She was just as confused as you about what the hell he was doing.
Rooster stepped into the room and dropped down onto the couch between the two of you, folding his arms over his chest and looking toward the TV.
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Pete with something?” Amelia asked, raising her eyebrows at him. Rooster shot you an amused look, then turned his head towards her, “Aren’t you supposed to not be texting Austin anymore?”
She hid her phone from him swiftly, which just made him laugh.
“So Stanford, huh?” He turned his head toward you and raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’m finishing next summer.”
“So you’re what? Twenty-two?” Rooster asked. You scrunched your brows at him. Then shrugged. “Almost.” You answered. You couldn't gauge his reaction to that, his face calm and stoic.
“What’s your major?”
Amelia pushed herself up from the couch and left the room with her phone to her ear, leaving the two of you on the couch. When Rooster turned his head to look at you again, he seemed almost inappropriately close.
“I’m in engineering.” You answered quietly. Not that that was a problem considering your proximity.
Rooster hummed in agreement, “Your dad was telling me all about it. He’s super proud of you.” You nodded a little, passing your phone between your hands somewhat awkwardly as you tried to come up with something to say to him.
"So, um... you've been on a deployment?" You stared down at your hands shyly as you spoke, feeling his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face.
"Past seven months," Rooster nodded his head, taking advantage of your distraction to look you over. "Got a month to go once I'm back."
"I'm surprised you got leave agreed so close to the end of your deployment - and on Thanksgiving too." You admitted. You had grown up with a father in the Navy, you knew how often those guys missed the important days.
"He won't admit it, but I think Ice pulled some strings so that Mav could have me here." Rooster answered, smiling slightly. You smiled in response, knowing that your father absolutely would have done that if Mav had asked him.
"So Pete isn't your dad?" You realised.
"No, he flew with my dad." Rooster answered, fiddling with the gold chain that rested over the top of his white t-shirt. You knew better than to ask more. Plenty of Navy kids hadn't been as fortunate as you. You knew immediately what Rooster had lost.
"I was thinking it was weird that the two of you didn't look alike." You opted for gentle humour rather than getting him to delve into his trauma an hour into meeting him. His eyes met yours and it was immediately clear that he appreciated that choice. He smiled.
"No kidding. Mav wishes." He joked, watching your reaction. You scrunched your nose and looked Rooster over. His smile grew slightly, pleased with your response.
You swallowed. Seven months of deployment. It had been seven months since you had sex last — you wondered if it was the same for him.
"Y/N, mom wants you to help with drinks." Your older sister barely ducked her head through the doorframe before she was turning away again with her phone pressed to her ear.
You offered Rooster a polite smile and excused yourself. Rooster nodded and moved his legs for you to pass him, his eyes on you as you left the room.
"Sweetheart, just be a dear and fill this for me and make sure everyone's got a drink, okay?" Your mother stroked your hair with one hand as she passed a glass jug into your hands with the other. She smiled, pinching your cheek and turning on her heel to go and socialise in the sitting room.
You waited until she was a decent distance away before narrowing your eyes at her begrudgingly.
“So does Daddy know about your tattoo?”
You turned on your heel, spinning to face the culprit of the horribly inappropriate comment. The owner of the voice was standing closer than you had anticipated, the glass jug in your hand hitting his torso and falling to the ground with a loud crash as it shattered to pieces.
Everyone in the living room turned their heads to look at the two of you. Your cheeks flushed, looking up at the man before you to find he was grinning.
You didn’t even know how he had seen it. It was tiny and you had been successfully hiding it for the past eighteen months.
“You alright, princess?” Your father asked, brows furrowed with slight concern. Rooster put some distance between you. You swallowed, trying not to look as frazzled as you felt, “Yeah, daddy. Sorry. Just bumped into him.”
The two of you knelt at the same time to begin cleaning your mess.
“What’s your problem?” You whispered angrily as he picked up the bigger shards of glass with his bare hands.
“I was just teasing you, didn’t think you’d jump so much,” Rooster still sounded disgustingly amused by the whole situation. His eyes flickered back up to you, “It’s a cute tattoo.”
Your cheeks burned as you narrowed your eyes at him, “Are you hitting on me right now?”
Bradley’s lips quirked, “I might be.” He watched in delight as you avoided meeting his gaze.
“My dad would kill you.” You answered in a whispered tone. Rooster glanced towards your father and Maverick laughing together by the window, then looked back at you.
“What, you tell your dad about every date you go on?” Rooster answered teasingly.
"Is that what we're going to do? - date?"
Rooster's lips quirked up into an amused smirk. He gave his broad shoulders an innocent shrug, like he couldn't fathom what exactly you could be alluding to.
He watched you try to hold back your smile, shaking his head slightly, "You tell me, sweetie." You scrunched your nose at the pet name. You hadn't ever liked being called that. But, from him, it kind of made your heart flutter.
"You two okay? - Do you need a broom?" You jolted at the sound of Penny's voice, sucking in a sharp breath. Rooster smiled sweetly up at her and rose to his feet,
"I know where to find it."
His eyes met yours and made you suddenly extremely aware you were still on your knees. You hurried to your feet, glass crunching under the sole of your shoe. Penny looked between the two of you, smiling politely but clearly weirded out by whatever was happening before her.
Rooster turned away, setting off to go find that broom.
"I, uh - sorry, about the jug." You pushed your hands into the front pockets of your jeans, cheeks still burning. Penny smiled and shook her head at you,
"Don't worry about it, accidents happen."
There was a small moment of silence between you. Penny glanced into the living room, observing Maverick and Iceman reminiscing over their glory days.
"You know, my father was an Admiral too, when I met Pete." She announced, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the kitchen counter. You swallowed. "My poor father lost his mind when he found out Pete and I had been seeing each other."
You gave her a small nod, watching Rooster return to the room. "My dad doesn't have to worry, I think guys in the Navy are usually tools." You smiled, pretending not to see Rooster chuckle softly.
Penny seemed to find that an acceptable answer. You let her get you a drink, you followed her into the living room and joined her in a conversation with one of your older sisters. You lost track of Rooster for the next forty minutes.
Then, your mother tasked you with going to find ice from the garage.
You stepped out into the hall, turning your head toward the movement in your peripheral. Rooster closed the door to the downstairs bathroom behind him.
You hesitated for a moment, biting your lip. Then, you thought about the last six months. How bored you had been. How shitty the guys your friends brought over were. You could do a lot worse than a fighter pilot.
Glancing around, you confirmed that the coast was clear and hurried down the hall. Your hand trembled as you turned the handle and ducked inside.
Rooster turned his head, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you over his shoulder, washing his hands in the sink. His lips curved upward into a grin. He watched as you pressed your back to the door and locked it.
"Hi." You spoke, suddenly sheepish now that you were standing face to face. He pressed his tongue to his cheek, turning and leaning against the counter, "Hi."
Your hand lingered on the lock as you looked him over.
He rested his palms on the countertop on either side of him. You watched him tilt his head and unashamedly rake his brown eyes over your figure. You took the first step, crossing the bathroom to him.
Testing the waters, Rooster reached out and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you forward against his body. You craned your neck to look up at him, pausing for just a moment. In a surge of confidence, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, grabbing the back of his neck.
Rooster welcomed the kiss, capturing your lips, the tips of his fingertips skimming just slightly under the soft white fabric of the cute little cropped sweater you were wearing.
He pulled you closer against his body, holding you against him. You felt each ridge of his muscular chest through the fabric of his thin t-shirt as he moved.
You pushed against him more, sliding your fingers up into the short sandy hair at the nape of his neck. His hands slid down from your hips to grab at your ass over the thick material of your jeans. His kisses became dizzying, your breaths were short and fast as he finally pulled back.
His eyes flickered across your features, taking you in entirely. He adored the soft flush across your skin. He nudged your jaw back with the bridge of his nose, lips working methodically along the column of your throat, his moustache scratching at your skin and making you shiver.
You slid both palms along the length of his torso, pushing your hands under the material and skimming them along his toned chest, "Holy shit." You didn't even realise you had said it until he was laughing against your collarbone.
"I'll take that as a compliment?" Rooster's tone was half-uncertain, but entirely amused. He cupped your jaw with his hand, swiping his thumb across your swollen lip. You searched for the words to explain yourself, your lips hanging open for a few seconds before you found some.
"Sorry - the guys I've been with are usually smaller."
The two of you looked at each other as you said the words, Rooster's grin just growing even more. You couldn't help but laugh, resting your forehead against his chest and shaking your head, "I didn't mean-"
His tongue darted out and wet his lips, eyes dark as he stroked his thumb across your cheek, "Stop talking."
You nodded hurriedly, completely at his will as he pushed himself away from the counter and turned the two of you, lifting you onto the countertop, slotting himself between your legs.
You tugged at his shirt, catching your breath as he pulled back to tug it over his head and drop it to the floor. He was all tanned skin and sharp lines. Your lips parted.
You had been expecting muscles, but he looked like something out of a magazine.
Rooster interrupted your staring, making the most of your parted lips as he moved forwards and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You snaked your hands around his tanned shoulders, humming against him as he hiked your legs around his waist.
He pulled back, eyebrows furrowed, “This — this isn’t… you’ve had sex before, right?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Yes.”
“Sorry,” He let out a breath, lifting your chin and kissing you softly, “Just — Don’t know how I would’ve felt about taking your virginity in a bathroom.”
“Well, you’re like four years too late for that, so just fuck me already.”
His eyes widened, lips quirking excitedly.
“Where’d that filthy mouth come from, baby?” He teased, tugging your hips closer to the edge of the counter. You whined, pushing yourself forward and kissing him hard.
Rooster took the hint, shoving at your sweater until you complied and lifted your arms for him to push it over your head. A groan slipped his lips as he grabbed at your breasts over your bra.
“You’re fucking incredible.” He murmured, lips grazing yours hungrily. You were impressed at how easily he dealt with your bra, pinching the clasp and slipping it off of your shoulders. The guys you were with usually fumbled with the clasp for at least a few seconds before figuring it out.
You were reminded suddenly of his age and experience. His lips snapped you out of your thoughts before you could get too caught up in it all. They worked down your throat, along your chest. His fingers grazed over one pebbled nipple, his mouth capturing the other.
You moaned softly, leaning back on your palms, letting your head fall back. His mouth continued down along your navel, popping open the button of your jeans. You lifted your hips for him to tug them down your legs, hitting the floor along with your shirts.
Your eyes shot open at his willingness to go down on you, he was already on his knees, parting your legs for him, whispering a soft, gruff goddamn against the skin of your thigh.
You whined softly as his lips left filthy, open-mouthed kisses across the lengths of your thighs, your pelvis, everywhere except where you wanted him the most.
Then, he pressed his tongue against your core over the thin material of the lace between your legs, dragging his tongue across the material toward your clit and back again, making you shudder. You slid a hand up into his sandy curls, letting your head fall back against the mirrored wall behind you.
Rooster's hand nudged your panties to the side, pressing his tongue against your bare core this time, flattening the muscle and dragging it firmly along your pussy. You tried to quieten yourself, an almost strangled whisper escaping your lips as his nose pressed to your pelvis, his tongue teasing at your entrance.
"Rooster, ohmyfuckinggod." You curled your fingers in his hair, tugging at his roots, eliciting a groan from him. He stopped for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours like you had interrupted him from something important,
"Baby, you gotta be quiet," He murmured, kissing your hipbones, raking his fingertips along your thighs. "You can do that, right, honey?"
You nodded dizzily.
"Attagirl." He winked at you and your head spun, sighing contentedly and leaning back against the mirror as he buried his face between your legs once more.
He tugged you to the edge of the countertop, giving himself better access. You jolted as his tongue worked over your clit, whispering a soft fuck into the air. Rooster pressed his ring and middle finger into you together, making you hiss at the sudden stretch.
Rooster's other hand squeezed your hip whilst he sucked gently at your clit, working you open with his fingers. You pushed your hips against him eagerly, gasping as he gripped your hips tighter and held you between him and the countertop.
"Fuck, I-I can't be quiet." You tried to squeeze your thighs together, whimpering as Rooster grabbed one of your legs and pushed it up to your chest, out of his way. He glanced up at you, groaning gently as he pulled back to kiss your thigh, grazing it with his teeth and leaving behind a purple-ish mark.
"You can, baby," He murmured tentatively, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers simply at the tone of his voice, "You're almost there."
Your fingers tugged at his roots, your body trembling as he brought you ever closer to your orgasm. You had spent your whole life hearing about the trouble that was a Naval Aviator - hearing tales of their wild antics and the broken hearts that they left behind. But god, you'd let him step all over your heart if he kept on making you cum like this.
You bit down on your lip, knuckles whitening around the countertop as you came. A soft whimper slipped your lips, silenced as he rose to his feet and grabbed you into a kiss that was all hunger.
"You really know what you're doing, huh?" You panted, feeling him grin and let out a breathy chuckle as his lips moved against your jaw. His hips rocked forward against yours, making your eyes widen as you felt him hard and straining through the fabric of his shorts.
Rooster's eyes fell to watch as you pushed his waistband down, both of you catching yourself hesitate once your eyes landed on it.
"Holy shit," You breathed, lips parted as you met his gaze. He took your hand and wrapped it around the base of his cock, swallowing hard and wetting his lips with his tongue.
"You're a big girl, you got it." He teased, mocking what you had told him earlier.
You swiped your thumb over the tip, gathering pre-cum on the digit and smoothing it along his length, your other hand on the back of his neck, keeping him close.
Rooster glanced between you and your hand working delicately around his length, pressing his tongue to his cheek as he admired the way your lips parted in concentration.
"Fuck," Rooster clocked suddenly, tearing open the drawer to your left. He searched the three drawers along the length of the counter before you even realised what he was looking for.
You guided his cock between your legs, dipping the tip between your folds and letting him feel the excitement he had built. Rooster's eyes flickered back to you, bewildered.
"I'm on birth control." You murmured, grinding your hips forward against him, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. Rooster's fingers curled tight around your hips, a muscle in his jaw ticking at the revelation.
"God," He groaned, rutting his hips forward just a little, the tip of his cock stretching you slightly, "What an angel." He teased.
Your cheeks burned but you were too far gone to care, crashing your lips desperately against his and kissing him feverishly. He sank further into you, his tongue caressing yours, groaning softly against you.
You winced, digging your fingernails into the nape of his neck, resting your forehead against his shoulder.
"You alright, honey?" His voice more gruff as his lips grazed your earlobe. You nodded against him, sucking in a deep breath as you adjusted to his size. "You're doing so good."
You nodded, hiking your knees up around his waist, kissing a scar on his shoulder, trailing your fingertips along his bare chest. You were surprised at how tender he was. You had had an actual boyfriend who hadn't ever been this considerate before, and here was this one-night-stand in progress being a true gentleman.
You let Rooster know once you were more comfortable, kissing eagerly at the length of his neck. He drove his hips forward, drawing a sweet moan from your lips as you arched your chest up against his.
He bucked his hips forward, feeling your walls clench at the sudden movement. You clung to him, fingers digging into his back as he found a steady pace, holding your hips tight.
“You feel so fucking good.” He muttered, dragging his teeth across your earlobe, making you shiver against him. You made an incoherent noise of vague agreement, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he fucked impossibly deeper into you.
You fell back, barely catching yourself on your palms as he tugged you tighter against him. Rooster’s hands slid from your hips along your torso, scooping you into his arms and cradling you against him, his hand on the back of your neck as he continued his pace.
His soft groans in your ear were driving you crazy. You didn’t even notice you were making noise, too caught up in the intensity of his cock filling you up so perfectly, until Rooster’s palm pressed over your mouth.
“You sound so fucking sweet,” He murmured, pressing his lips to your temple with care as he continued to pound into you, “But not here. Don’t want anyone else to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
You placed your hand over his, peeling his palm back from your lips and tucking two of his fingers away into half a fist. He swallowed hard, watching as you guided his index and middle fingers between your lips.
His hips stuttered as you wrapped your lips around his digits, your tongue swirling around them.
“Fuck me.” Rooster shivered, thrusting sharply into you and making you moan around his fingers. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”
You sucked at his fingers, whimpering quietly around them as he filled you over and over. His other hand slid between your legs, finding your clit and working delicate patterns over it, eliciting another desperate moan from your lips.
That was when he really started fucking. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your waist, snapping his hips forward and driving himself into you. Doing your best to shut up like he had asked, you grazed your teeth across his shoulder, biting down gently against his tanned skin.
Rooster groaned against your ear, kissing your throat feverishly. You pushed your legs further apart for him, Rooster’s soft grunts right in your ear were driving you wild.
The tip of his cock brushed impossibly deeper into you, making you whimper as your head fell back. A small yelp sounded much more significant in the almost silent bathroom. You barely noticed the feeling of your head hitting the mirror.
“You okay?” Rooster panted, nudging your chin with his shoulder and meeting your gaze. Your lips parted as you got to look him over. His skin flushed, cheeks a pink contrast to the golden skin everywhere else, his eyes soft and concerned.
You nodded hurriedly, pushing yourself forward and kissing him. His body covered yours, tongue moving against yours, hand working skilfully against your clit as he made you cum again.
He groaned against your lips as your pussy contracted around his cock, squeezing him in the best way. Only, after seven months of abstinence, his stamina wasn’t what he had been.
“Fuck,” You gasped as he pulled out abruptly, lips parting as you watched his fist pump along the length of his cock. You parted your legs for him, shifting closer and leaning back so that your stomach was an open target for him.
He painted your stomach, sliding his free hand up into your hair and nudging you forward against his mouth. He left you with a kiss, then rested his forehead against your shoulder, looking down at the mess he had made.
His eyes were practically gleaming as he looked back up to you, lips quirking up into a smirk.
“Can I see you again?” He breathed, fingers caressing the back of your scalp delicately. You smiled a little, cheeks heating and you furrowed your eyebrows at him,
“You don’t owe me a second date, you know. It’s okay for this to be a one time thing.”
Rooster shook his head and pressed his lips to your temple, “Honey, I’m going to be thinking about that for the next four weeks. Just let me take you out once I’m back.”
You smiled and pushed at his chest, “If you fuck me like that then you can take me wherever you want.”
Rooster chuckled, tucking himself back into his shorts, letting out a heavy breath as he turned to grab some tissue. He shook his head and met your eyes fondly as he cleaned you up, “Your dad doesn’t know you at all, does he?”
You pushed yourself down from the counter and grabbed your bra, shrugging your shoulders, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“So, you’ll give me your number?” Rooster watched you dress as he cleaned himself up. You watched his smooth down his hair in the mirror. “And when I’m back, I’ll take you on a real date?”
You nodded as you grabbed your jeans, passing him your phone from the back pocket and leaving him to type in his number as you dressed, “Sure.”
Rooster handed you your sweater and texted himself from your phone, sliding the phone back into the back pocket of your jeans.
He brushed down the back of your hair, smiling softly as you checked that you were back to your usual angelic self in the mirror.
“Wait,” You turned to him, eyebrows furrowed, “What’s your actual name?”
Rooster laughed, taking his lip between his teeth as it occurred to him he had just slept with a girl who didn’t even know his real name.
“Bradley.”
You scrunched your nose disapprovingly, making him laugh softly again.
“You can call me Rooster if you like.”
“Was planning on it.” You teased, grinning at him and turning to leave the bathroom without another word. You stopped into the garage, finding the ice and returning to your mother.
“You were gone for a long time!” Your mother noted, helping you distribute the ice. You shrugged your shoulders,
“Couldn’t find it at first.”
Your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You slipped it out of its confines and smiled as you read the notification.
Thanks for being such an angel for me, R
You looked up, finding him now sipping at a beer in the living room, grinning as your father doubled over in fits of laughter beside him.
He glanced across at you, shooting you a quick wink and then returning to his conversation.
…
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𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄. + 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍
masterlist. / taglist. / any request?
synopsis. Y/n and Joseph becoming more up close in personal with the media, the actress even caught in London spending time with each other.
pairing. joseph quinn x reader
word count. 1.3k
genre and warnings. actor!reader, black coded, pure fluff, established relationship, paparazzi, social media au, pet names (lovely, honey), hawaiian pizza. | — I forgot to write the comments for this one. series masterlist.
Y/n cozies up to boyfriend Joseph Quinn while visiting him in London.
The Stranger Things costars are still going strong as Y/n was spotted visiting London to spend some quality time with her boo thang.
The pictures spread all over social media after they were spotted out and about in London, always managing to keep their fans fluttering with their stunning (and overall just freaking adorable) matching sets, interview moments, and even paparazzi pictures.
Fans were left drooling as Y/n styled her signature auburn brown hair in a low ponytail to the back, letting a few strands fall close to her face.
The actress showed off her style while wearing a neon green and black graphic crop top with the iconic singer Aaliyah printed on the front and black leather low rise pants.
For jewelry, the actress accessorized with a layered golden chain made up of several golden rings.
A pair of green and black Nikes with mismatched shoelaces completed her outfit.
Her even more iconic makeup was familiar as she opted for her usual two-toned lined lip look paired with a shimmering gloss, sharp dark eyeliner, brushed natural looking eyebrows, and just the right amount of highlighter.
In an interview with Vogue, Quinn previously spoke about his relationship with Y/n and his strong desire to keep their personal life away from the media during an interview: "As much as we really love our fans and the support that they show us, sometimes the attention can get a bit unhealthy. The last thing anyone would want would be their relationship involving just them being constantly broadcast to the world."
The Stranger Things actor continued. “This isn't my story. It's our story. And we'll talk about what it is when we're ready to talk about it together.”
Read more
JOSEPH QUINN AND Y/N L/N FEATURE ON AGREE TO DISAGREE
Ahead of the highly anticipated season four for Netflix’s Grammy nominated: Stranger Things release, LADbible pitted Joseph Quinn and Y/n L/n against each other for a special episode of its original format ‘Agree to Disagree’.
In the episode, the duo argue over some of the internet’s biggest debates, discussing how Joseph is the fans favorite new character. Produced by LADstudios, the episode has been a huge hit on LADbible channels, totalling over 7.3 million views across its YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat, and still climbing. The episode has also been picked up by multiple global news outlets including GRM, Metro, The Independent and many more.
The episode can be watched in full on LADbible TV’s award-winning YouTube channel, recently named Best Original Web Channel at The Broadcast Digital Awards.
Take a watch here.
The title intro of the show plays out with Y/n and Joseph captured in a freeze frame as the couple both give off different vibes.
The white man was dressed in his usual business casual fit, but this time in a printed button down with the same pattern as Y/n's top and dark trousers paired with a golden belt buckle.
Like always, Y/n’s outfit was the first thing that drew in the viewer's attention. This time her hair was styled in auburn brown box braids pulled into two buns, one on each side of her head as some braids left out in the back swung over her shoulder.
She wore an Ashley Banks-inspired outfit that accentuated all of her curves.
The low-cut long-sleeve top showed just a modest amount of cleavage, enough for the draping layer of golden necklaces to slot themselves between the curves of her breasts.
Tucked above her shirt were the printed bell bottom pants paired with thick black platform heels.
The set was in a lounge room of some fancy hotel. A single table sat in front of the camera’s setup, "knowing you, you're probably gonna agree with everything I do." Y/n chortled from her spot, sitting with her back against the chair legs spread wide, man spreading comfortably.
Joseph scratched his face in protest. "Well... okay, hun, I'd like to think that's a good thing though, is it not?" He could not help but to smile, giving into defeat that he was in fact very smitten with the woman across from him.
Pineapple on pizza is delicious.
The couple moved practically in sync, moving their glass cup full of water across the table to the strongly agreed side, Y/n smiling at Joseph at the agreement.
"On our first date, she made me try Hawaiian pizza for the first time, so I think my answer is very biased." Joseph chided, sitting up against the chair, "Just get a pretty lady to feed you any type of pizza and I promise you’ll like it."
"Well hold on, I didn't force you to eat it, you just ordered the same thing as me." She recalled pointing her finger in his general direction.
"Yeah, but that was because I wanted to, like, have the same things in common as you." Joseph curled his shoulders up as he chuckled, almost blushing from the memory of when he had developed his crush on you.
American football is better than soccer.
Y/n’s eyes scanned that table, but she tapped the back of her hand against the glass to the disagree side, Joseph making a show of him setting down the cup to strongly disagree with some water spilling from the rim.
"I don’t really care for either, but watching soccer is just so much more fun than watching football for me." She explained to the camera. Joseph was patient in letting her speak with a contented smile placed on his lips (he could already see the simp memes on twitter now).
"I like both. I just don't get why it's called football. You’re not even allowed to use your feet." Joseph explained with his hands like it was the most serious question ever.
"Wait, but don’t they use their feet for the…kicky thing?" Her tone softened as Y/n squinted, genuineness riddling her features before Joseph could bow his head and snicker at her choice of wording.
"Do you mean the kickoff, lovely?" he inquired, exhaling.
"Alright, you knew what the hell I meant." Y/n waved off as even the crew laughed at the exchange.
American food is better than British food.
Joseph grimaced, not even waiting for the countdown before sliding his cup over to strongly disagree. Y/n hummed loudly before sliding her cup to agree.
"I don’t because y’all could have really good food, but name it the most rancid thing ever to make me think that it's bad." She continued to explain as Joseph belted out a laugh, his head tipping back. "Like who the hell wakes up one day and goes, you know what, I want some of that spotted dick?"
"Yeah, I suppose that could be the turning point for a lot of people."
London is the best city in the world.
It was like a stare down between the couple, with Joseph not holding back his teasing smirk as he held eye contact while placing the cup to strongly agree.
"London is very beautiful, don’t get me wrong," Y/n started, enticing a playful gasp from Joseph. "But it’s definitely not at the top for me."
"You’d think since I'd paid for her plane ticket here so many times, she’d love it a bit more."
Eddie Munson is the best new character in season four.
"Well, that would be a bit mean if I answered—oh okay," Joseph pitched as Y/n was quick to slide her cup over to disagree, the couple doubling down in laughter at both of their sudden reactions.
"Look, I love you, but since day one I've been a die-hard Argyle fan." It was true, the actress was the first one to welcome Eduardo from the main cast with open arms.
The duo and their characters became iconic even from the two scenes they were in together towards the end of the season. Y/n and Eduardo just hit it off as friends before anyone else from the newer cast.
"Eduardo fan girl over here." Joseph pointed out
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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#joesph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#black reader#stranger things x reader#actor!au#actor au
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Eye On You: Wonho❤️🔥
A/n: anyone ever sit back and think about how rich Wonho would be if he had an OnlyFan's account? Just me? 🌚 aw ok well....here you go🥴. I wrote this in like an hour so...
3.75k words
You never imagined you'd be the type to subscribe to one of these websites.
Hell, you barely liked forking over that $9.99 a month for Netflix and a small part of your soul died at the sight of that reoccurring charge on your bank statements.
But this felt different.
It was midday and you were alone in your room, writhing in bed as your body's reluctance to go to sleep frustrates you.
It wasn't as if you needed a nap but sleep was the only thing that could distract you from the insatiable ache between your legs.
So after scrolling on social media for a little bit, seeing enough of a particularly fine man's face and body on your timeline led you to fish out your debit card and open your laptop.
The cursor idles over the pixelated rectangle for what felt like minutes.
You've already created the account and input your payment information.
All you had to do was hit subscribe and an uncensored world of Wonho would be unveiled for your and 120,863 people's eyes only.
When you'd first seen him, you were amazed by the exaggerated definition of his muscles and undeniably handsome face.
Every Instagram post was either him fully clothed and candid, smiling or looking away as if he weren't aware of a picture being taken.
Or he was naked.
Ok, maybe not full-on ass-naked but he might as well have been.
Plump and pert glutes.
Thick muscled thighs.
Massive pecs that could easily fit in a d cupped bra.
Buttered Hawaiian roll-looking abs.
And then there was his....lower half.
No matter what he wore, there was never a reason NOT to look down at the sizable print that bulged in the most provocative way in even jeans or dress pants.
Him wearing a size smaller than his normal fit, no underwear, and sitting wide-legged in every picture didn't help either.
Don't even bother asking anyone what color his hair or his shoes are.
You damn sure didn't know.
All you knew was that when you realized this specimen had a Stream4You account, similar to OnlyFans, it only took a shameful 8 minutes for you to decide to subscribe.
The membership fee wasn't bad.
About as much as your Netflix subscription and you were sure to be much more entertained by this than the thousands of shows and movies you'd scrolled through.
Plus you could cancel any time so...
You click to enter the website and your eyes widen at the array of pornographic thumbnails from past streams.
"My gawd.." you gawk as you scrolled.
Well-lit 4K snaps of Wonho on his black leather couch.
Some of him alone, gripping his thick print in different colored boxer briefs.
Some of him with a woman in various sexual positions.
Doggy style with nothing but their naked torsos and legs in the frame.
Missionary with Wonho's massive upper body looming over a woman much smaller than him, their pelvis' pressed together.
Another with a view of the bare back of a woman kneeling in front of the couch and between Wonho's spread legs, his hand resting on the back of her head with his tipped back in ecstasy.
All of them different races and body types.
All of the gorgeous.
A pang of jealousy struck in your chest as well as deep within your clenching walls.
What an experience it would be to get fucked by such a magnificent man. You didn't even have to watch him in action to know he could fuck.
It was all in his aura.
You sigh, leaning back with your laptop resting on your tummy, scrolling down his profile with a pout.
Suddenly a notification bell pings in the corner of the screen, followed by a drop-down banner letting you know that Wonho was about to start a live stream in 5 minutes.
It's a shame how fast you clicked the link that led you to the waiting room which consisted of a black screen with a countdown, a sidebar with his past live streams in the queue, and a frenzy of comments popping off in a chat on the other side.
You immediately found the 'Turn off chat' option in settings because you didn't want anything distracting you from the main event.
After an agonizingly slow five minutes passed, the black screen shifts to an unexpected view of who you knew to be Wonho's glistening chest and sculpted abs.
He's leaning over the tripod, adjusting the angle from what it sounded like.
A second later, his beautiful face fills the screen.
"Hi guys...." he croons, smiling innocently in that way that reduced his eyes to slits and lit up his entire face.
His voice is deep and soothing, something you'd probably want to hear up close or in your ear first thing in the morning.
Wonho furrows his brow and tucks the soft pink tip of his tongue at the corner of his mouth as he goes back to fiddling with the camera.
"Bare with me a second everyone...I got a new tripod and I'm still figuring it out. This angle is not...ah..there we go." He huffs in triumph as he rights the camera in the way he intended.
He then kneels in front of his infamous leather seat. Not to be confused with his equally infamous black leather couch.
Wearing nothing but some black Adidas shorts and a smile, Wonho seats himself comfortably on the floor in front of the camera. He leans forward, squinting at it for a second before smiling and waving again.
"Can you see me ok? It's in focus?" He asks and you snort at the irony of him speaking so casually considering what he was setting the audience up for.
"Looks like I am. Anyway... Hi again. It's Wonho, your favorite. I hope everyone here is enjoying their day so far. I um....really have no plan for today's stream. I just got back from the gym and showered so I'm at home for the rest of the day. What are you all up to?"
Again, he was speaking to his audience as if they were coworkers or neighbors he say occasionally on his way in or out of his home.
It was...cute. Unexpected but cute.
Your brow crinkles in amusement.
Wonho smirks softly as he stared at what you assumed to be the comments, which were no doubt coming in by the thousands per second. His eyes squinted again as he read them, his smirk persistent at what his paying audience had to say.
For a second you toyed with the thought of him asking you about your day with s genuine interest. He'd be looking at you the way he was looking at the camera now with expectant eyes and parted lips, hanging on to your every word.
" 'Just got off work.' Cool. 'Just had dinner..' Already? It's dinner time where you're at? I haven't even had lunch yet..'Hi, baby' Hi...' You're handsome' No you're handsome, whoever you are.." he chuckles cutely as he went through more similar comments before leaning back on his knees.
He lifts his arms and runs his hands through his hair, flexing his biceps and triceps unintentionally with the movement.
He then stands to extend his body in a stretch that gave you a godly eyeful of his body. Abs contract and quads flex as he stretched and your gaze falls to the plushy-looking hill that gathered at his crotch area.
He's not even trying.
After satisfying his muscles, Wonho exhales heavily and plops into the waiting seat behind him.
It groans under his weight and you could only imagine the things that chair had to endure being owned by this man.
On and off camera.
"Glad to hear all is well with you all. Thanks for tapping in." He says, resting his head in the nest of his interlocked fingers.
"As I said...I didn't really have a plan. I took a shower and had this urge to jack off but I didn't want to do it alone...."
Your ears perked up at the favorable turn of events and you reflexively push the laptop up to your chest.
"Oh..do tell," you mutter as if he could hear you.
"...So I figured I'd just get comfortable and do that while I chat with you guys until I cum. Or perhaps until you cum. Whichever comes first..." he jokes with a little chuckle.
His corny pun and little laugh alone should be considered a sin. How could a man so burley and huge be so cute at a time like this?
Wonho remains leaned back comfortably in his shorts that hung loosely from his tree trunk thighs, his hooded gaze fixed on the camera.
He lifts one of his hands from the back of his head to rub through his silky black hair again, mimicking the way you wish you could do the very same thing.
Beside him, an iPhone lays face down on the leather armrest and he picks it up, swiping his thumb over the screen a few times before focusing on reading the stream's comments from his own device.
Then he flashes that damned panty-dropping grin.
" ''Good plan' I know right? 'Deal.' 'Sign me up Coach. 'Cum first Daddy. I need frosting for my toaster strudel'...Wow. Nasty. And beautiful. You might have just inspired some future content with that one..." he says in response.
" 'Nice Tits.' Thanks. I work pretty hard on them so glad to hear it. 'Show us your dick please' Well since you're so polite.." he grunts.
Without wasting another second, Wonho lifts his hips to push down his shorts and underwear. They shimmy over his legs and drop out of view, leaving him shamelessly nude for the camera.
"There. That better?" He teases with a light-hearted chuckle.
As he continued to respond to comments, some funny and others nasty, your eyes fixated on the culprit of all of those damned likes on his Instagram posts.
Wonho's dick.
It sits lazily between his attractive man spread, not even erect yet but still impressive.
The fact that he's clean-shaven only allows you to appreciate his full size as you tapped the fullscreen icon in the corner.
Now filling your monitor, Wonho's muscular body and thick manhood captivate you entirely.
You'd never see a man so beautiful in your entire life and maybe it was your hormones leading you to exaggerate but...
"Shit..." you exhale, marveling at his size.
For a moment you wondered why he had so many subscribers. Beyond his good looks and entertaining content, you didn't think 120K for one guy doing normal amateur porn made much sense.
Until he took off his underwear.
Wonho's dick is gorgeous. Similar to his skin tone if he were blushing with a fat mushroom tip that looked like it had been kissed by lips stained pink.
Thick and surprisingly long to be flaccid. He reaches down to cup himself, ringing his shaft between his thumb and two fingers while his ring and pinky fingers rested over his balls.
Which looked heavy and smooth to the touch.
The thought has you nearly drooling on sight
Wonho slowly begins to stroke himself, the velvety smooth skin moving over his veiny shaft.
He readjusts his seating and spreads those massive thighs more for the camera, scooting forward so that the audience has a perfect view of all he was selling.
With his other hand, he holds his phone to read the comments. He smiles at whatever madness you imagined to be occurring in the live chat.
If you weren't already touching yourself, you might have been able to post a comment or two.
At some point the laptop materialized beside you on the bed, giving you the freedom to shuck off your underwear and caress your sensitive folds.
The pads of your fingers pass over your clit and you gasp, repeating the action in a rhythm mimicking Wonho's.
Slow and steady.
Teasing yourself just enough to arouse you more.
It's not long before Wonho's once drooping member is ramrod straight and standing up at its full length.
He's a grower and a shower.
My gawd.
Wonho pauses to reach for something on the floor and sits back up with a glistening glob of liquid from a dispenser off-camera. He drops the phone to clap the substance between his palms, warming the lube before reaching back between his legs.
His large hand encircles the shaft, twirling his wrist slightly on the upstroke that's now much smoother with the help of the lubrication.
Now his dick shined as if it were encased in glass, showing everything in greater detail. He jerks himself with the original hand, using the other to cup and tug his balls gently.
"Ah..shit.." he exhales.
His tongue runs over his top lip as he continued stroking, his chest moving with each breath.
Yours shuddered beneath your shirt as you rubbed over your clit in slow and teasing circles, but the wetter you become, the more stimulating your touch is.
A soft moan parts your lips and you spread your legs wider as if you were on full display for this beautiful man and not the other way around.
Wonho gets lost in his touch for a moment, not shying away from rubbing his perineum as he worked over his dick.
His head tips back and his eyes fell shut for a moment and you wondered what he saw when he did.
What did he think about when he touched himself? It's not like he didn't have a massive collection of savory images to recall from his past experiences.
You wondered what memories turned him on the most...
After a while of the same pace and some of the sexiest soft moans you'd ever heard come from a man, Wonho lifts his head and opens his eyes to gaze straight into the camera.
There was something different in his eyes now.
Long gone was the cute and funny guy with punny jokes.
There was now what you could only describe as a demon. The brown of his irises seemed black now and they hid halfway beneath his eyelids in a sultry stare that makes you clench around nothing with a pathetic whimper to follow.
"What the..." you pause, feeling as taken aback by his expression as you were by your body's reaction to it.
A little smirk lifts at the corner of the demon's lips before he releases his ballsack. He does a quick wipe over his thigh to rid his palm of excess lube before picking up his phone again.
Wonho goes back to reading the comments, leaning over to rest his elbow on the armrest as he stroked his dick slowly.
His brows go up at something he read but he doesn't respond out loud, only sparing the camera a knowing look briefly with a sly smirk.
He then goes on to read more, his thumb strumming over the screen.
He laughs at something someone said and pauses to switch up his tactic for a moment, focusing just on the tip of his dick and stroking over it with a shuddered sigh.
This makes his eyes roll back and he curses under his breath.
By now, your clit was so hard and swollen that your legs twitched every time your fingers passed over it. Occasionally you'd slide them inside to stroke the ache away that grew from deep.
But you could only manage that for so long before feeling like you were about to cum.
And you know once you did that, it would all be over.
Wonho looks back at his phone and smirks.
" 'Stroke faster' Yeah? That's what you wanna see?" He asks breathily, his eyes never leaving his phone.
He then adheres to the request, most likely accompanied by a cash donation.
The tacky sounds of the lube slicking the motion of his hand kicked up as he jerked himself faster.
It must have felt really good because his smirk melts into him scraping his teeth over his plump bottom lip.
"Ah fuck...mhmm.." he moans, exhaling sharply through his nose.
You match his energy, strumming two fingers over your needy clit, hips rolling and back arching.
You moan louder now, panting as the heat collecting at your apex mounts.
You were close and so was Wonho.
You could tell from the way he'd abandoned the phone to go back to sitting upright, the other hand groping his balls and rubbing under them. His dominant hand was doing what it did best, pushing him closer and closer with every upward stroke.
He cursed and moaned just as freely as you did and you only bit down on them so that you'd be able to hear him over yourself.
Not that it was an easy task.
Hearing him moan.
Watching his hips canting and his abs contracting.
Spotting the shine of pre cum dribbling from the hole at the center of his rock-hard tip...
You wanted him. You wanted him so fucking bad that it sparked tears in your eyes knowing it wasn't him fucking into right now.
Wonho's eyes lift and lock onto the camera as it had done a few times before and for a moment it felt as if he were actually looking at you.
Through you.
Straight to your soul.
"You're about to cum aren't you?" He asks and you hiccup amidst your moan in reaction.
You lift your head from your pillow and blink away the blurriness to inspect your screen.
"Yeah...Im talking to you. I've got my eye on you...I've had it on you this whole time.." he rasps, now stroking his dick as if her priming a weapon ready to fire at any moment.
His mouth goes slack for a second and his eyes roll back a little, but he resists the urge to look away from the camera.
From you...
"Oh fuck..I wish I was there. I bet you feel so good..fuck I bet you look so sexy right now. Are you touching yourself for me? Hmm?" He continues, this octave lifting to a gentle coaxing tone that has no will to resist responding to.
"Yes." You whimper, rubbing and swirling over your bud with the sole intention of getting yourself off.
"Good....keep going. And don't you fucking stop until you cum, you understand me?" He commands with a lifted brow.
"Yes..yes. Oh god..." you cry out, tearing your eyes away from the screen to shut them.
"Yes, baby! Like that...just like that...Im about to..." Wonho grunts and you open your eyes just in time to watch the thick spout of pearl shoot from his tip. Some of it hits his chest, drizzling over his sternum as he kept milking his dick for more. It was like it would never stop.
Your mouth hung open in a silent cry as you give in to the impending explosion as it sizzled down your spine.
Your breath hitches and your fingers pause over your clit at the memory of his intense gaze and throaty moan of release, and it's enough to send you hurdling over the edge and into a heart-stuttering orgasm.
Your climax hits you like shockwaves, making your muscles tense and relax as it passed over your body.
Hooded and lust-drunk, Wonho exhales finally and slows his strokes to rid himself of any remaining drops of cum he had left before sagging against the coach.
"Fuck...that was good...shit..." he pants, talking more to the ceiling than to his audience.
You lay limp in your bed, staring dazedly at your laptop with your now exhausted hand resting over your pussy.
That was good. Better than you'd expected for sure. You felt that same liberating tingly sensation all over that you always felt after an intense orgasm.
But this felt different.
Even though this was what he did for a living and thousands of people watched him exactly as you had...
And even though you knew there was no way in hell that this man could see you when he looked into his camera...
In your own little bubble of horny delusion, he was looking at you.
And that is perhaps what makes him so popular. The way he connects with his audience. The way he just doesn't set up a camera and act as if no one is watching him. He engages and puts on a show well worth the $10.99 a month.
Knowing and feeling that made this monthly subscription feel less like an expense and more like an investment.
Wonho's hand still rested around his dick, which was still stiff in his grasp but not as erect as it was seconds ago.
He sighs and leans up from the back of the couch, the sound of his sweaty back pealing from the leather surface making him cringe.
"Alright guys...that was fun but looks like Im gonna have to take another shower.." he huffs humorously.
You watched him in silence as he reached off-camera for a small washcloth he must have prepared beforehand.
Wonho cleans himself casually, wiping his cum from his chest and abs as if he spilled food on his shirt or something, and it makes you smile weakly.
He then wipes his hands thoroughly before tossing the washcloth aside. The cushions squeak beneath his bare ass cheeks as he scooted forward, lifting briefly to detach the device mounted by the tripod.
Now carried in the hand he just used to jerk himself off, Wonho held his audience and lifted them so that he was looking up at the camera in selfie mode.
"I hope you enjoyed our time together. I know it was quick but I didn't want to interrupt your day for too long. I have a lot of cool content planned for the month so stay tuned. Subscribe to get notifications and become a platinum member for exclusive videos. Until next time. Come back and see me. Bye..." he winks and gives the camera a quick wave before the screen goes black again.
And just like that, the stream was over.
I miss him. I miss his random IG posts of his bawdy. I miss his smile. I miss his laugh. I miss his dorky shimmy when he’s shy or embarrassed or happy over his food. I miss his daily vlives (dammit Vlive why’d you have to go!!? *waves fist)
*sigh* anywho..🌚 I think im gonna do more onlyfans wonho stuff
#monsta x smut#wonho smut#wonho#changkyun#jooheon#kihyun#hyungwon#shownu#minhyuk#hyunwoo#changkyun smut
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Running Out of Time (Maggie Sawyer x Danver!Reader)
Main Masterlist
Anonymous asked:
hi
if you still write for maggie sawyer, would write a fic about the episode Alex gets kidnapped but it's r instead of Alex
thanks
"You don't have to hurt anyone," a police officer says into her phone. A line of police cars is lined up outside a bank. "No one is making you do this. You're choosing to do this. You and your friend chose to go into that bank. You chose to take those people hostage. But you know what? You can choose to put your guns down. You can choose to let those people go. You can choose not to hurt anyone."
"Look up!" a man yells. "Up in the sky!"
There is a sound of glass smashing and the crowd behind Detective Maggie Sawyer.
"Hey, not even Pretty Boy Floyd got to meet Supergirl," Kara Danvers says, hauling two of the goons out of the bank. "It'll be a fun story to tell your roommates in jail!"
Maggie walks up to Kara, tucking her phone into her back pocket. "Supergirl . . ." Maggie says and Kara rests her hands on her hips, exhaling sharply. "I almost had him . . . "
"And I got you over the finish line!" Kara says brightly. "And just in time for dinner. I'll see you later."
. . .
The smoke alarm beeps and (Y/n) Danvers waves a towel around. "Thanks," her older sister says, handing the delivery man a twenty.
"(Y/n), the first time I tried to microwave macaroni and cheese," Mon-El says, "they had to evacuate three city blocks."
(Y/n) glances amusedly at her older sister's boyfriend.
"That's an exaggeration, but Ihave seen less terrifying nuclearing explosions.
"Well, I like pizza better than paella anyway," Maggie says, opening a box of pepperoni, glancing affectionately at (Y/n).
"Yes, me too," (Y/n) agrees.
Kara opens a box of Hawaiian pizza. "I love ham and pineapple!"
"Thank you. It totally shouldn't work, but it totally does," Mon-El agrees with Kara. "How's my girlfriend, guys, huh?"
Kara chuckles. "What?"
"Bank robbers, zero," Mon-El talks through a mouthful of pizza. "Supergirl, two. What do you even need cops for in this city?" he chuckles.
A dangerous look lights in Maggie's eyes, and Alex and her girlfriend Lena exchange a glance.
"He's from a different planet," (Y/n) says, resting a hand on Maggie's knee. "He doesn't even know what he's saying."
"No, he's right," Maggie says, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why bother trying to talk a guy down when Supergirl can just swoop right in and force him down?" she looks over at Kara. "Seventeen hours of 'What do you want, how can I help you?' good old-fashioned hostage negotiation wasted."
"You're not upset that I caught the bad guys and got everyone out safely, are you?" Kara chuckles, pushing her glasses back up onto her face. No, Kara didn't have to wear her glasses, everyone - even Lena knew because Alex did not want to start her relationship off with the Luthor on a lie.
"I would've gotten them to free the hostages," Maggie says.
"Maybe," Kara shrugs. "But they're in jail now, where they can't hurt anyone. That's all that matters."
Lena glances over at (Y/n), whose eyes had widened slightly.
"Unless they use the Supergirl defense," Maggie says, leaning forward.
"The what?" Kara asks.
"It's a think some criminals use to get their charges dropped," Lena offers.
Maggie nods. "It's a perfect storm for a defense attorney. Excessiveforce, evidence contaminated by debris, vigilante justice . . ." Maggie trails off, meeting Kara's gaze.
"'Vigilante justice?'" Kara echoes. "I stand for hope, and help, and compassion! I did what I had to do to get those people out of there."
"I think what Maggie's trying to say is that what you do is amazing when we're up against . . ." (Y/n) begins.
"A giant purple monster or a half-cyborg murderer, sure," Maggie interupts, and (Y/n)'s hand falls to Maggie's knee again. "But, most of the time, police work requires a more delicate touch."
"Delicate?" Kara echoes again.
"Yeah," Maggie replies. "You broke one guy's arm and you gave another one a concussion. And that was after you knocked in the roof of a National City landmark." (Y/n) stops trying to interrupt when Maggie scoffs, "And now, it has a big, Supergirl-sized hole in it."
"A thousand things could've happened from the time of your call to the hostages walking out," Kara says, glaring at Maggie from across the table. "Maybe, yeah, sure, I broke some walls, but I got everyone out of there safely, and that is a win."
"Well, you should've asked. But you never look before you leap," Maggie replies, a tight frown spreading across her lips.
"Because I can fly," Kara replies, leaning back in her chair.
"Okay," Maggie scoffs again, looking away. Maggie meets Lena's gaze, and Lena flashes her what seems to be a sisterly glare.
Mon-El clears his throat. "Well, as being something of a superhero myself, I can say that sometimes it's better to punch, than, than to talk."
(Y/n) lets out an inaudible groan, pressing her hand to her forehead, trying to quell her quickly growing headache.
"Sometimes," Kara throws her napkin on her empty plate, "talking is more hurtful than punching. Obviously, I've upset you, Maggie. I'm gonna go."
"No, Kara, don't do that . . ." (Y/n) says, Kara having stood up from the table.
"No, it's fine." Kara says, pushing (Y/n)'s comment aside. "Than/k you. Thanks for dinner."
(Y/n) gets up from the table to follow Kara, Mon-El in front of (Y/n).
"We're gonna go," Alex says, she and Lena also getting up from the table. Alex gives her youngest sister a hug before she and Lena Luthor leave (Y/n) and Maggie's apartment.
(Y/n) turns to face Maggie. "I know you're upset about earlier, but I really . . . " she pauses. "I just really want you and Kara to get along."
"Kara and I get along great," Maggie says, meeting (Y/n)'s tired gaze. "It's Supergirl that I sometimes have trouble with."
"Okay, just keep trying," (Y/n) takes a step forward. "Okay?"
"Okay, for you," Maggie replies. "Wait, where are you going?" she asks as (Y/n) strides towards the door.
"To catch up with Kara and tell her to try too," (Y/n) throws on her jacket. "But she's just as stubborn as you." (Y/n)'s (E/c) eyes gleam with affection for a moment.
. . .
"Kara. Hi," Maggie walks up to Kara at Catco.
"Maggie," Kara nods. "Is everything okay?" she asks, the two walking towards Kara's desk.
"Yeah, I was just looking for (Y/n)," Maggie replies, "wondering if she checked in with you."
"Didn't you crash at her place last night?" Kara asks Maggie.
"I did," Maggie replies, "but she left to catch up with you after you left. What, she didn't stay with you?"
"She never caught up with me," Kara answers, turning to look at Maggie with a concerned look on her face. "Maybe she went to the DEO?"
Maggie shakes her head, "Alex said she didn't check in last night or report this morning."
"Huh . . ." Kara's eyebrows knit and her phone rings. "Ah. Mystery solved," Kara shows Maggie her phone, which had (Y/n) as the caller ID. "(Y/n)?" Kara answers the phone.
"Hello, Kara Danvers," a man, definitely not (Y/n), answers.
"Who is this?" Kara asks, stopping in her tracks.
"Well, the real question is, who are you?" the man replies. "Everyone around you thinks you're just a mild-mannered reporter. But I know the truth."
"What do you want?" Kara questions.
"I have your sister," the man replies.
"You're lying," Kara says, terror spiking in her.
"I'm not," Kara's phone vibrates and she pulls her phone from her ear. Maggie comes to stand at Kara's shoulder. The two look down to see the image of the body of a motionless figure lying on the floor of what seems to be a glass box.
"A man named Peter Thompson is serving a life sentence in Albatross Bay Supermax. You will free him within the next thirty-six hours or your precious baby sister will die. And I know you can, because I know . . . You're Supergirl."
. . .
(Y/n) blinks dazedly, weakly raising her head.
Noticing her surroundings, (Y/n) pushes herself to her feet.
"Hello?" she calls.
Electricity buzzes around her, and (Y/n) presses her head to the glass of her enclosure, breathing heavily.
"I knew I recognized you from the elevator," she croaks. "I know who you are. The people that I work with, they will find me." (Y/n) glares up into the camera at the corner of the cell. "And when they do, you will be in a world of hurt." (Y/n) totters slightly on weak legs. "So, I am giving you one chance. Free me, now."
Fear spikes in (Y/n) when she looks around the container. Three of the walls and the floor are made of cinder blocks, the ceiling of a chain-length fence, and the front wall made of glass.
. . .
"So, this person who says they've kidnapped (Y/n)," J'oon says, everyone gathered in the main debriefing room of the DEO, "what did he say on the call."
"H-he said he would kill (Y/n)," Kara says, pacing back and forth in front of the round table, "if I didn't break PeterThompson out of Albatross Bay."
Maggie and Alex are leaning heavily against the table. Lena and Winn Schott are standing off to the side, talking in whispers.
"He said he knows Kara Danvers is Supergirl," Kara goes on, and Lena and Winn stop their conversation, their widened eyes falling on Kara. "He's targeting (Y/n) because she's my sister," Kara goes on.
"But why (Y/n)?" Alex questions, straightening herself. "He could've also chosen me. Why go for her?"
"I don't know," Kara replies, shaking her head.
"This might be stating the obvious here, but why don't we just spring Peter Thompson and bring (Y/n) home?" Mon-El questions.
"The DEO does not negotiate with terrorists," J'oon replies.
"But this is (Y/n)," Mon-El faces J'oon.
"If we do this once, we'll open the floodgates," J'oon argues, a pained look in his eyes. "Every bad guy will know Supergirl can be controlled."
"And even if we do what he wants, it doesn't guarantee he'll release her," Maggie says. It was the first time she'd spoken since she'd learned (Y/n) had been kidnapped. "She's his insurance."
"All right, people,let's get to work!" J'oon booms, and everyone scrambles around. He walks over to Winn, who had sat down at his computer. "Winn, any luck with Alex's subdermal tracker?" he questions.
"No," Winn shakes his head, "it's been offline since ten'o'clock last night." Winn shakes his head, furiously typing on his keyboard. Whoever took her must have found some way to power it down."
"Where are we triangulating the signal from the phone calls?" J'oon asks Lena.
"We're nowhere," Lena plops down into a spare computer. "The caller used four different arrays to scramble the signal." Her accent had thickened with her worry for the youngest Danvers.
"You guys listen, we gotta move," Winn turns around to address all the agents.
"All right, let's start with what we know," Alex says, rising from her chair.
J'oon nods, "If this guy knows you're Supergirl, we just that to our advantage."
"That's gotta be a short list," Mon-El says. "Who knows your secret?" he questions.
"Jeremiah, Eliza, Clark, Alex, Lois, Lucy, the DEO, James . . ." Kara trails off, trying to think of a few more. "Lillian Luthor," she glances unsteadily at Lena, but Lena meets her gaze steadily.
"Does Peter Thompson have ties with Cadmus?" Lena asks, coming to stand around the table.
"No, I already checked," Winn replies. "There's nothing."
"Then you're asking the wrong question," Maggie supplies, and the others look at her. "We don't know where (Y/n) was taken, we don't have a crime scene, we don't have any physical evidence. They've clearly been planning this for a while. Whoever took (Y/n) is a ghost who doesn't want to be found."
Kara's head rests in her hands. "Then what's the right question?" she questions.
"Who is Peter Thompson and what does he mean to our ghost?" Maggie says, and the others nod.
. . .
Maggie, Alex, Kara and J'oon walk into the prison.
"Mr. Thompson," J'oon flashes his FBI badge. "Hank Henshaw and Alex Danvers, FBI. This is Detective Sawyer from NCPD, and Ms. Danvers from CatCo Magazine."
"The feds, a pig, and a journo," Thompson says, looking between the three. "To what do I owe this confusing pleasure?" he asks.
Maggie throws a manilla folder on the table between Thompson and J'oon. "Your jacket's a thrilling read. Three home invasions, two DUIs, two counts of felony murder."
"You all didn't come down here just to flatter me, did you?" Thompson asks, meeting Maggie's brown eyes. Maggie takes a breath, "This morning, we got a call from an anonymous source, asking that you be released from prison."
"Someone wants me out of jail?" Thompson laughs. "Not used to that. People usually want to keep me behind bars."
"A life sentence can't be all that easy," Alex says, "being in here all by yourself."
"You ever keep in contact with anyone on the outside?" J'oon questions.
"Just last week," Thompson replies, "Mr. JC Penney sent me a letter. He said there was a sale on galoshes." Kara's eyes burn and she steps forward as Thompson continues. "It's just that I don't have anywhere to wear them."
Kara slams her fist onto the metal table, startling Maggie a little. "Enough!" she orders. "My sister's been kidnapped, and her life is on the line until we find out who wants you out of prison."
"Ms. Danvers ..." J'oon says warningly.
"So save us the sarcasm! Who is it? Who has her?"
"Calm down," Alex says, her voice equally as warning as J'oon's and she places a hand on her sister's arm.
"Who has my sister?" Kara yells, ignoring Alex and J'oon.
"I don't know," Thompson says, meeting Kara's furious gaze.
"You're lying," Kara says angrily, her eyes narrowing.
"He's not," J'oon says. "We're done here."
The officer pulls Thompson to his feet and leads the fugitive out of the interrogation room.
"Why'd you let him go?" Kara asks J'oon.
"Because I read his mind," the Martian answers. "He's telling the truth." J'oon gets up from the table.
"Losing control is not gonna help us find (Y/n) faster," Maggie tells the superhero. "It's only going to get her killed."
Kara stares at Maggie for a moment, and then her phone rings. "Winn," she says, sounding almost defeated.
"Hey, we got something," Lena's voice comes from the speaker.
"What?" Kara asks.
"I scanned the visitor logs for Peter Thompson," Winn's voice comes from the speaker this time, "over the past three years. They're pretty sparse, except for one name that keeps popping up."
"Who?" Kara asks.
"Doesn't matter, it's a fake name," Winn replies. "I pulled some security footage and, baby, I ran that facial recognition software. Thompson has a son."
"But we checked, he doesn't have any relations," Kara replies.
"Well, apparently, there's a lot of family drama," Winn says. "Thompson's name isn't even on the kid's birth certificate. And I only figured this out after I cross-checked the name with the court transcripts. The kid spoke at Thompson's sentencing, and his name is . . . Rick Malverne. He has a house an hour outside the city."
"Malverne. Why does that sound so familiar?" Kara says aloud and Alex stares at her sister.
"He went to high school with us," Alex snaps her fingers.
. . .
Kara lands outside a house and busts down the door. "(Y/n)! (Y/n)!" she yells as she runs through the house.
Sticking her head in one of the rooms, Kara sees a set of computer screens with (Y/n) projected on them.
"(Y/n). (Y/n)!" Kara says softly, walking up the screens. "(Y/n)!"
"She can't hear you, Kara," comes a voice and Kara turns around to see a blonde man standing in the doorway.
"Rick?" Kara asks in disbelief.
"Jeez, I haven't seen you since graduation," is Rick's reply. "You look great."
Kara's eyes blaze and she grabs Rick, lifting him off the ground. "Where's my sister?" she demands.
"You break my father out of prison yet?" Rick asks, his teeth clenched.
"You know I can't do that," Kara murmurs.
"Can't or won't?" Rick questions.
Kara throws Rick back into a wall with a grunt.
"Tell me where she is," Kara growls.
That's not how this works," Rick answers. "Now, why don't you try and play nice, Kara?" he asks. "You were always the nice one."
Kara sighs, a hardened look on her face.
"Just let me talk to her," Kara breathes, looking over her shoulder at her sister on the monitors.
"Well, if that gets you to play ball, then I'm happy to help," Rick says, sliding around Kara to type on the keyboard.
The monitor chimes.
"(Y/n)!" Kara croaks. "(Y/n)!"
"Kara, is that you?" (Y/n) calls. "Rick Malverne from Midvale, he kidnapped me!" (Y/n) places her hand on the glass, facing the camera.
"I know," Kara replies. "I'm with him right now. Are you okay? Where are you?"
"My tracker. Can you use my tracker?" (Y/n) asks, and Kara can hear the frantic tone of her sister's voice.
"It's not working. We don't know -" Rick cuts Kara off.
"Okay, that's enough of a reunion, I think," Rick says.
"No, wait," Kara says.
Rick sighs, "It's simple. She's told you she's okay. And now we trade my father for (Y/n)."
"Your father is a murderer," Kara retorts.
"Manslaughter-er," Rick corrects.
"Tell me where she is," Kara demands again.
"Tick, tock. Tick, tock."
Kara's eyes burn red from her building heat-vision and Rick leans closer, "oh, wow, it's even cooler up close. You hurt me, you'll never find her. And she'll die. Slowly."
. . .
"He looks normal," Winn says, watching as two DEO agents lead Rick Malverne into the interrogation room.
"He was nice in school," Kara says, crossing her arms.
"He used to carry (Y/n)'s bookbag," Alex agrees. Lena raises an eyebrow and Alex shrugs.
"Why is he doing this to her?" Kara wonders aloud.
"I tried reading his mind, but he seems to be blocking me somehow," J'oon says.
"Let me in there," Maggie turns to J'oon. "I can talk to him."
J'oon considers Maggie for a moment before he nods. "All right."
. . .
Maggie sits down in a chair across from Malverne, Kara and Alex framed in the doorway.
"Detective Sawyer," Malverne considers Maggie, leaning forward slightly. "And they say there's never a cop around when you need one."
"So you know me?" Maggie crosses her arms.
"Of course," Malverne smiles, leaning back in his chair. "I took a whole year planning this. Watching (Y/n). Preparing. I know everything.
"How did you know I was Supergirl?" Kara asks, crossing her arms.
"The day at the beach," Malverne replies, meeting Kara's eyes. "Before you started wearing glasses.
"Hey, Rick," a young Alex greets a young Rick Malverne, Kara and (Y/n) standing behind her. (Y/n) was gently explaining things to Kara in a low voice.
"A bunch of us are heading to Swan Beach after school," Rick says, resturing towards the direction of the nearby beach. "You and (Y/n) wanna come?" Rick smiles over at the two year younger (Y/n).
"Back then," Rick says, pulling Kara and Alex from the memory, "I had no idea that (Y/n) would end up playing for the other team, so to speak."
"You're new sister is kinda weird," Rick says, gesturing to a young Kara who was looking up at the sky with wide, amazed eyes. A young (Y/n) rests her hand on Kara's shoulder, looking amused.
"Then there was a crash," Malverne goes on.
Kara charges to a car, pulling a woman and a baby from the burning wreckage.
The rest of the kids run up the hill to see a young woman hugging Kara with one arm and cradling her baby with the other.
"And her older sister walked away without a scratch. People at school said it was adrenaline, but, uh . . . "
"But you didn't believe that," Maggie finishes, meeting Malverne's gaze steadily.
"I saw Kara Danvers do something amazing," Malverne glances over at Kara. "And it stayed with me. I knew Kara was living in National City, and then Supergirl showed up in National City . . ." he chuckles. "I put two and two together. I knew it was you."
"What happened to you?" Alex asks, leaning forward. "I remember when (Y/n) and Alex had the chicken pox, and I was eating lunch by myself. You came and sat with me.
Rick chuckles. "I was fourteen. And I didn't have the nice house or the perfect family you three had." Maggie stands up from her seat.
"You think we had it easy?" Kara asks, unfolding her arms. "You have no idea what either of my sisters sacrificed for me. Or what I was going through!"
Malverne straightens in his seat, fixing his eyes on Kara. "Why, because you had to hide your superpowers? I was hiding bruises! Do you know what it's like to have your mother tell you you're garbage every single night? A belt whenever you had the wrong opinion? And then I found a lifeline. A dad my mom kept from me. And he saved me from her and he moved away from Midvale. And even though he was already struggling, he always made sure there was food on the table and he got me enough money to go to college. And then three years ago, the state took him from me."
"Your father killed two people," Maggie says, leaning against a wall, her arms crossed. "He confessed."
"They had it coming," Malverne replies, leaning back in his seat. "And now I'm gonna rescue him just like he rescued me. Alex shifts uncomfortably, leaving the room without another word. "I can't believe we're still talking about me! You have twenty-four hours and eleven minutes." Kara stiffens as Rick continues, "Come on, Kara, show us some of that rah-rah Midvale Junior High Spirit." Malverne is yelling now. "Free my dad! Or your sister dies."
Kara growls, zooms over, flips the table, and pins Malverne to the wall.
"Oh, you use half this much gusto in springing my dad, you'll have your sister back for game night."
"Kara! We're done here!" Maggie's voice cracks.
Kara lets go of Malverne and the man drops to the ground. "Hey. You know what'll be fun?" he asks. Maggie frowns, an eyebrow raising as she steps back from the man. "Finding out which of the three of you loves her more. "Honestly, I wouldn't know where to place my bet," he sneers and Maggie swallows thickly.
Kara frowns at the man and after a minute, the three women go to leave the room, Maggie pausing for a second.
"Go Stallions," Malverne grins.
Both Kara and Maggie leave the room. "I'm giving him one more minute, then I'm going back in there," Kara says.
"No," Maggie replies.
Alex straightens from where she'd slumped against the doorframe.
"Let him sweat it a little. We got what we wanted," Maggie reasons.
"What?" Kara questions, looking down into Maggie's eyes. "All we know i show he knows my identity."
"We know that Rick's pinned his whole sense of self-worth on Peter Thompson," Maggie says. "Thompson is the key to getting (Y/n) back."
Kara's angry eyes seems to extinguish as she considers Maggie's words.
. . .
An hour or so later, Maggie leads Peter Thompson into Malverne's interrogation room.
"Ricky," Thompson says, walking towards his son.
"Dad," Malverne gets up from his seat.
Thompson pauses before moving to hug his son. "All that time inspiration, I imagined a day when . . . I could talk to you without a pane of glass between us."
"The DEO moved heaven and Earth to free this man," Maggie says. "We did what you wanted. Now, tell us where (Y/n) is."
"No. No, not until my father and I are far from here," Malverne says.
"You think we're stupid?" Maggie questions. "I showed you mine. Your turn."
"So you can toss us in Gitmo?" Thompson asks. "Not gonna happen."
Maggie shakes her head in disbelief.
"Maybe he gives you a piece. A little token of goodwill," Thompson adds. "You gotta give them something, Ricky. That's how it works. Just tell them where she is." Thompson narrows his eyes at his son.
"Well, you really nailed his essence, I'll give you that," Malverne says.
"What?" Maggie asks, stepping forward, her arms crossing.
"I mean, that thing . . ." Malverne says, studying his father's face. "He couldn't decide whether to hug me or not. That's vintage Dad." Malverne sits back down in his metal chair.
"What are you talking about?" Thompson asks, walking up to stand beside the table.
"My father would never be playing these games. He'd be wanting to get the hell away from here and making sure that he never went back to prison," his expression is one of anger. "I've been planning this for a year. Do you really think I didn't prepare for you," Malverne pauses, looking up at Thompson, "Martian?"
Thompson walks over to Maggie and shifts back into himself.
"You're down to twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes," Malverne says as he gazes a Maggie and J'oon. "And counting."
Maggie closes her eyes, pressing her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose.
. . .
(Y/n) looks around her containment module. Her eyes narrow as she looks up at the camera.
(Y/n) pulls off her jacket and belt. She climbs up, pulling the camera off the wall.
"Okay," she breathes, having taken apart the camera.
(Y/n) bites down on the end of her belt, snaps a card from her wallet, and pulling down the shoulder of her shirt. She whimpers as she digs the sharp end of the card into her shoulder. (Y/n)'s teeth bare down on the belt, her chest heaving as she finally pulls her tracker from out of her shoulder.
(Y/n) spits out the belt, her chest heaving. "That sucked," (Y/n) grumbles, blinking back her tears. She connects her tracker to the camera after pulling out a few wires.
. . .
"I just got a software update request from one of our trackers," an agent says, peering at the computer screen. "System's not recognizing the IP address."
"She's a little genius!" Winn says. Winn runs down the hall. "Guys! We found (Y/n). I found her."
Kara - who is standing with Mon-El, Alex, and Lena - turns to face Winn. "You did?" Kara asks frantically.
"We got a ping from her subdermal tracker," Winn explains. "She's not far!"
Kara runs over to the door where she finds Maggie sitting at the table across from Malverne.
"Maggie. Winn found (Y/n)," Kara says, and Maggie turns to look at Kara. Alex is framed in the doorway, her eyes wide with hope.
"What? How?" Maggie asks, getting up from her chair.
"I guess you underestimated my sister," Kara says, glaring at Malverne. "Let's go," Kara turns and marches towards the door.
Maggie pauses, turning to study Malverne.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Malverne says, his gaze flicking between the Danvers' sisters and Maggie.
"You're delusional," Kara turns to face Malverne. "The second we get back here with (Y/n), you're going to prison with your dad."
Malverne shrugs, looking at the table in front of him. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Kara strides the room, but Alex and Maggie study Malverne.
Maggie and Alex runs out of the room. "Watch him," Maggie tells the guard as she runs past him after Kara. "Hey, stop," Maggie tells Kara. "Malverne still thinks he's in control," she tells her.
Kara turns, looking highly annoyed with Maggie at this point.
"He's not acting like someone who just lost," Alex adds. "He didn't even flinch. It's like he expected this."
"No, no, no, we are not listening to that psycho," Kara says, walking closer to the two. "Every minute we wait for matters."
"I - I want to get her as badly as you do," Maggie retorts, "but we can't punch our way out of this. We've got to get this right."
"If the shoe were on the other foot, (Y/n) would already be out the door. I'm not waiting," Kara argues.
"You're not the only one who cares about her!" Maggie says, her voice rising.
"I'm going!" Kara yells over her shoulder as she strides out of the DEO, Alex running after her.
Maggie swallows thickly and looks at the ground.
. . .
Alex and Kara smash through the roof of a warehouse, and (Y/n) hears the thump on the ground. Kara lets go of Alex's arm.
(Y/n) scrambles to her feet. "Kara! Alex!" she shouts.
"(Y/n)!" both the sisters yell.
"I'm down here!"
Kara runs over, pulling a sheet of metal off the floor.
(Y/n) hears the noise and looks around hopefully, but she doesn't see anyone coming to her aid.
All Kara and Alex see is a laptop and a countdown clock. The words, NOW YOU HAVE FOUR is spray-painted onto the wall.
"Four? What . . ." Kara asks, but there is a rapid beeping from the clock and the time now reads 4:00:00.
There is a grinding noise, and water begins spraying in from one of the pipes.
The twoolders Danvers' sisters watch, terrified as their sister looks frantically around.
(Y/n) grabs her jacket from the floor and presses it to the pipe, hoping to stop the flow of the water.
. . .
Kara and Alex march through the door of the interrogation room, Kara's fists balled. Alex sets the laptop on the table, opening it and turning it towards Malverne.
"Where is she?" Kara crosses her arms.
Malverne shrugs. "I told you not to go down there . . ."
"Tell us where she is," Alex slams a fist on the table.
"I gave you thirty-six hours to break my father out of prison," Malverne relaxes in his chair. "But you didn't listen. So now, that room is gonna fill up with water in less than four hours. I think it's time you got moving."
Kara's lip quivers. "Let me talk to (Y/n)."
Rick leans forward and presses a few of the keys and there is a beep.
Kara turns the laptop around and leans down to talk to her sister through the computer.
"(Y/n)," Kara says, her voice quavering.
"Kara! Alex! I sent out a signal, I thought you were coming," (Y/n) says, the water up to her waist now.
"He re-routed the IP address. He sent us somewhere else. Do you have any idea where you are?" Alex asks, her eyes wide with worry.
"I was unconscious. I could be hours away or I could be in the city," (Y/n) replies, a frown spreading across her face. "I don't know." Despite how far (Y/n) was away from the camera, both Kara and Alex can see the fear on their little sister's face.
Rick leans forward. "(Y/n), it's Rick. I don't want to hurt you. I keep on telling your sisters that. Tell them to get my father, and this can all be over. You can come home and get dry."
"No. Alex. Kara. No," (Y/n) says, pointing at the camera. "You do not give that terrorist what he wants. You cannot let yourselves be blackmailed. You cannot open yourselves up to that, ever. Do you understand me? You're both better than me." Again, despite her words, her widened eyes display her fear and worry.
Maggie enters the room and, seeing (Y/n) on the screen, runs over. "(Y/n)!"
"Maggie!" (Y/n) calls.
"I'm right here," Maggie replies, her tone softening.
"Maggie, I need to speak to you alone," (Y/n) says, and Maggie immediately grabs the laptop and walks out of the room, cradling the laptop to her chest for a moment.
"Honey, everyone here is working hard and we're going to find you," Maggie says and her voice cracks. She sits down on the floor, her back against a wall.
"The water is rising fast and there are things that I need to say," (Y/n) says, looking up into the camera, her eyes softening as though she really was meeting her girlfriend's gaze.
"No," Maggie's voice cracks. "Don't start talking like this is the end."
"I don't want it to be, but in the case that it is . . ."
"It's not!" Maggie cuts her girlfriend off. "You're a badass, Danvers. And you're gonna figure out a way to get yourself out of there or you're gonna hold on until I find you." Maggie's voice quavers.
"Maggie, listen to me, please," (Y/n) tries again.
"No," Maggie interrupts, tears welling in her eyes. "W-we just started t-this, you and me, and i-it's not g-going to end. Not today. Not for a long time. We just had our first Valentine's Day and I wanna do more with you. I-I want more firsts." (Y/n) looks up into the camera again and she doesn't worry about wiping her tears. "I want to have a first vacation. We haven't even argued about where we're gonna go yet or how to load the dishwasher. Or what to name our first dog. Do you want to get a dog? A cat? Both?" The tears are falling freely down both women's faces now.
(Y/n) smiles slightly. "Both? Let's name the dog Gertrude." Her eyes sparkle with amusement.
"See," Maggie smiles, her expression watery, "there's a lifetime of firsts that we're going to do together. So, you hold on, okay? Hold on until I get to you. Promise. Promise me!"
"I . . ." (Y/n) starts but the video cuts off.
"What?" Maggie says, typing furiously on the keyboard. "(Y/n)!" Maggie, frustrated, throws the laptop to the ground.
"What happened?" Kara runs over where Maggie is sitting.
This distraught woman stands up. "I t-told you not to rush in. Now you've made things worse."
"I did what I thought was right," Kara retorts.
Alex, Lena, Winn, and Mon-El run into the hallway.
"I should have been heard," Maggie goes on, not noticing that the others had appeared. "I should have been listened to. I'm her girlfriend."
"I'm her sister," Kara snarls in return.
"And you think that trumps me?" Maggie questions, taking a step forward. "That you know what's right for her. I . . . I got her to be herself, Kara. I-I have j-just as much to lose as you. You should've listened to me."
Maggie turns around and storms away.
. . .
There is a beep as Maggie enters Malverne's interrogation room.
Malverne straightens, studying Maggie closely.
Maggie sits down at the other side of the table, crossing her arms and resting her elbows on the table.
"Under two hours," Malverne says, leaning back in his chair. "The clock is ticking fast," he comments.
"I know," Maggie replies, leaning forward in her chair. "And if it ticks down completely, we both lose. And I don't think you want to lose."
A ghost of a smile spreads across Malverne's face, "Neither do you." Malverne pauses. "I was wrong about Kara," he says. "She's too much of a Girl Scout to do what needs to be done. I misjudged her. Alex," he shrugs, "she can't do anything with Kara in her way. I may have discounted you. You're a cop. You could just walk into that prison and break my father free if you wanted to. You care for her."
Maggie simply blinks.
"I've seen that," Malverne goes on.
"Stalking us," Maggie says, leaning forward a bit more.
"The way you look at her," Malverne says, his expression softening a little. "The way your hand touches her hand when you're walking down the street."
Maggie's eyes water and she bites her bottom lip and looks down at the tabletop.
"Love can make people do things that they don't normally do," Malverne goes on. "So please, help us bring home the people we love.
. . .
(Y/n) could no longer touch the floor of her containment module, as so much water had flooded into it.
(Y/n) holds her breath, diving to the bottom to grab her belt.
She lets out a strangled yell as she tries to close the valve with the belt.
Her chest heaving, (Y/n) resurfaces, greedily gulping in air.
Wrapping the belt around her hand, she dives down and punches at the glass, trying to get it to break.
Getting desperate, (Y/n) pulls off her cargo pants, leaving her in a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of boxers.
Resurfacing again, (Y/n) uses the space left to tie the legs of her pants and fills the other end with air.
(Y/n) puts the makeshift life-vest over her head.
. . .
"Please tell me you have something," Alex says, emotion surging over her.
"We've literally tried everything, all right?" Winn says, his hair disheveled from the continuous motion of running his hands through it. "I've checked family holdings, bank accounts, call logs from the prison . . . There's nothing."
Alex lets out a suppressed sob, resting her head in her hands.
"I'm gonna talk to Maggie and see if she's got anything else out of him.
Kara looks at the computer monitor projecting the camera looking into Malverne's room, but (Y/n) isn't there.
"Where . . . where's Maggie?" Kara asks, and Winn and Mon-El turn to look at the screen.
. . .
Maggie glances around the corner of the prison wall but stops when she hears the guard's keys jingling together. She waits until the guard walks through a set of double doors to moves. She strides up to one of the metal pipes and places a projector in front of a camera so that the guards watching the cameras wouldn't see what she is about to do.
Maggie jogs through the projection, her face set in determined lines.
She blows the lock on Peter Thompson's door. "What the hell are you doing?" Thompson asks as Maggie grabs his upper arm.
"Taking you to your son," Maggie's voice cracks.
Maggie lifts (Y/n)'s raygun and shoots two cameras as she makes her way through the prison.
"Nice gun," Thompson comments.
"It's my girlfriend's," Maggie says shortly, pushing Thompson forward.
"Maggie, you know (Y/n) wouldn't want you to do this," Kara says in her Supergirl uniform.
"All I care about is getting her back alive," Maggie says, her eyes burning. "You were right, sometimes words don't work."
"Sometimes punching doesn't either," Kara counters. "She just came from your son. She was with him all day, trying to turn him," Thompson turns to look at Maggie, "make him understand. You know what kind of words your son's been using? Words like 'rescue' and 'love.' He says he wants to rescue you, like you rescued him," Kara steps forward, her arms crossed across her chest. But if he kills (Y/n) Danvers, he'll never be rescued. He'll have to live with that for the rest of his life. And that'll be his hell," Kara's voice softens. "Now, you've done a lot of bad things in your life, but you've done one thing you can be proud of. You were a father. A good one. You were there for your son during the toughest time of his life and that's what you need to do again now. If he kills her, you will have failed at the one good thing you've done with your life. Be a father now."
A timer beeps on Maggie's phone, and fear strikes through her. "She's out of time."
"Please, is there anywhere he would have taken her?" Kara asks.
"There's one place," Thompson says.
. . .
Maggie, Alex, and Kara open the garage door of the storage facility and they run in, Maggie freezing with horror at the sight of her girlfriend in the glass chamber.
Kara speeds over and puts a fist through the glass and all the water - as well as (Y/n) - flow through the hole in the glass.
(Y/n) coughs up water as she rolls onto her side.
"Thank God," Maggie says, pulling (Y/n)'s head into her lap. "She's okay. She's alright."
Maggie lifts (Y/n) head up as she chokes on the water, coughing it up. Maggie rests her chin on (Y/n)'s head, before pressing a few kisses to the same spot. (Y/n) grabs Maggie's hand and squeezes it weakly.
"You held on," Kara says, pressing her hands to her sister's pale cheeks; Alex grabs (Y/n)'s other hand,
"I-I h-eld on," (Y/n) stammers. Then she looks up into Maggie's eyes, which are soft with affection.
Maggie cradles (Y/n) head and presses her lips to her girlfriend's forehead.
. . .
The four women return to the DEO, (Y/n) asleep in the MedBay while Maggie stares out the window, relaxed by the soft patter of the rain and her girlfriend safe.
"Hey, you," (Y/n) says hoarsely and Maggie turns, relief evident on her face. "You okay?" she rasps.
A look of disbelief spreads across Maggie's face. "Am I okay?" (Y/n) asks softly, settling down in a chair and taking (Y/n)'s hands in her own, a look of tender affection on her face. "Are you kidding? That was really clever, with the whole Navy Seal thing with your pants. What was that?" Maggie smiles and (Y/n) laughs weakly.
"Well, I knew I just had to buy a couple of seconds," (Y/n) says, and a tear trails down her cheek. "I knew you were going to come."
Maggie' gaze softens.
"You didn't let me finish before, but I, um . . ." (Y/n) pauses.
"What?" Maggie murmurs.
"I just really have to say it now," (Y/n) continues.
"(Y/n) . . ."
"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/n) says as she sits up, Maggie shooting out a hand to help. Maggie tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and turns to gaze deeply into (Y/n)'s (E/c) eyes. "Those firsts that you talked about . . ." (Y/n) says, her voice a whisper because of how close her face is to Maggie's. Maggie nods, a soft smile on her face. "I want to have them all with you." (Y/n)'s eyes get watery. "I never want to stop having firsts with you. I love you, Maggie Sawyer.
"I love you, (Y/n) Danvers," Maggie murmurs, her eyes still watery.
Word Count: 7114 words
Taglist:
@procrastinatingsapphictrash
@makegoodchoices
@fanboy7794
@imtheflash
@theofficialzivadavid
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the chariot / the hanged man / the hermit / temperance
[Image Description: Four tarot cards featuring the pcs of the home game Library of Lensa. The cards are all in simple frames and have the number of their card at the top. The first is @strangetorpedos character Nox in the chariot card. Nox is a purple tiefling with black horns and a red mullet in a white T-shirt and jeans. He’s visible through the window of a wooden door between two bookshelves. An open book rests on the ledge of the window and a streak of light twists around their raised right hand. There are stars circling their head.
The second is @creacherkeeper’s character Bo in the hanged man card. Bo is a white man with red hair lying on a beam with his hands behind his head and a worried look on his face. He wears boots, cargo pants, a gold breast plate with a rose on it, and a small glowing pendant that’s falling into the empty space behind him.
Next is my pc Nettle in the hermit card. Nettle is a white woman with white hair and glowing eyes in a green dress. She holds a ball of light in one hand and the strap of her leather satchel in the other. She has scuffs on her knees and a scrape on her arm that are also glowing.
The last is @punkbarbarian’s character Kai in the temperance card. Kai is a Japanese Hawaiian man dressed in all black with a shaved head and black bat wings. They are looking down at two mugs they are holding connected by a wisp of blue smoke. He is standing in front of a cherry blossom tree with one foot on a grassy bank and the other dipping into the edge of a lake. End ID.]
#dnd art#dungeons and dragons#d&d party#d&d 5th edition#d&d art#d&d original character#personal#my art#my art described#nettle :)#c:lensa#i love lensa party so so much#tarot tag#you want to commission me to do this for your d&d party in fact bc his was so fun#i will post nox & kai separately at some point but …. they’re all together 🥰#lensa art
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me again lmao !! okay ... so your first req WAS AMAZING ILY - anyway
we need some more of the disater twins , so how about a female reader x disaster twins (platonic) where they three of them have a sleepover at y.n's place ?
REMEMBER ILY !!!!!
(a/n: ilysm! thank you for another req and I'm glad you like the last one! i hope you like this one!)
summary: disaster twins have a sleepover at y/n's house.
pure chaos. every single minute is chaos.
the twins trying to bake/cook something only for it to randomly combust-
"what. happened."
"it was donnie's fault!
"wha-why are you trying to pin the blame on me?!"
"I LEFT FOR TWO MINUTES-"
multiple presentations/kahoot nights
donnie's about electronic dubstep over the years
leo's about lou jistu's career and all the juicy paparazzi drama
and yours was about the fnaf lore.
everyone collectively lost braincells with the fnaf kahoot.
"WAIT HE'S STILL ALIVE?!"
"YES, THIS IS COMMON KNOWLEDGE, NARDO"
"EXACTLY, HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS?"
ordering pizza is another nightmare.
"get the margarita with garlic knots and-"
"please don't get hawaiian, the pineapple's texture is always weird in my mouth."
"i should just order two pizzas' at this point-"
you ended up ordering two pizzas' that night. rip bank acc-
when you finally go to sleep, you constantly get bombarded with quotes such as these:
"what are you afraid of most, n/n?"
"leo, i'm trying to sleep-"
"mine's losing my loved ones, sense of self and horses."
"okay understandable- wait why horses?"
"they haunt me even in my dreams.."
"okayyy, what about you donnie?"
"beach balls."
when you awoke, the room looked like a battle zone along with the two pillow forts on other sides.
"be prepared to wallow in defeat, dear nardo!"
"oh, I hope you're prepared to be portal-chopped!"
it's 8am. this is your sleepover.
(wow, i had a lot of ideas for this- anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and keep the reqs coming!)
<3
#rottmnt headcanons#rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#headcanons#sleepover headcanons#rottmnt leo#rottmnt donnie#tmnt 2018#save rottmnt
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lad infinite wealth and hawaiian culture
when i first saw mentions of religion (and the name nele sounding awfully similar), i wanted to do a bit of a delve into parallels to actual real world beliefs. yes ryu ga gotoku is fictional, it’s stories are fictional, etc., fiction more often than not is influenced by the real world or other works, and the development staff seems to have done some homework regarding hawaii, as shown by elements in and outside the main story heavily referencing the history and culture. thought it would be fun to look into regardless.
i would like to preface this by saying i have not finished infinite wealth as of the time i’m writing this—i’m only at the beginning of chapter 5 so i had to dodge a lot of spoilers. this may contain inaccurate info when it comes to palekana as a (fictional) religion. this is also just based on the research i did. if anyone reading this is hawaiian and/or has a lot of knowledge about hawaiian beliefs and customs, feel free to add onto this or correct me! :)
the goddess nele—or rather, pele.
similar to how kamurocho is heavily based on kabukicho in both setting design and name, nele is what pele is referred to. the actual information the game gives about nele also reflects the mythology surrounding pele.
pele is the goddess of fire and volcanoes, sometimes being referenced or referred to as pelehonuamea or peleʻaihonua, which according to the nps are based on accounts of her movement. similar to a few fire deities in various mythologies, she represents the destruction and rejuvenation of the land.
dana mentions how palekana is focused on giving back to/caring for the land and its people and as such are very environmentally friendly, do charity work, etc. but have a strict rule, particularly when it comes to maintaining food banks, about the food being native to hawaii. some of this is definitely based in the group’s own interpretations, but some of it could also parallel traditions.
according to this hawaii-focused site, removing lava rocks off the islands or eating ‘ohelo berries along the halema‘uma‘u caldera without offering them to her/asking permission brings about bad luck due to them being sacred. as the food often sold at the markets throughout what’s explorable in infinite wealth come from different countries or have been given some american flare, eating anything non-native could be seen as disrespectful to the land it comes from, in a way rejecting the gifts that land has given its natives.
the word palekana
this further ties to the reasoning behind the native-only diet. palekana means safety, protection, and used to ward off danger.
i think this goes without saying but hawaii itself has been heavily westernized. american settlers did colonize the islands, did turn them into a collective state, did try to turn natives “american,” and did (inevitably) make it into some exotic tourist attraction. most of the hawaii known in modern day is definitely not the real hawaii. rather, most of the culture has been erased or exploited.
infinite wealth doesn’t try to hide that fact and openly mentions it, particularly with dwight, which also seems to reflect the themes presented in the series (and particularly 7 and 8) involving the oppression and erasure of those in certain positions by those in power.
save for the group’s goal to help the land, palekana’s strict rules seem to be as a way to preserve the original culture of hawaii including the land, hence the protection part of it. there seems to be no strictness when it comes to race likely due to most people living in hawaii not being native so it isn’t exactly that conservative. it’s just nature-based.
the warding off danger/safety could also be what influences palekana’s charitable work and perhaps its refusal to preach/directly influence those in their care, rather having their actions speak for themselves.
#might make a follow up post depending on if anything more is added throughout the game#shantien rambles#like a dragon infinite wealth#infinite wealth#infinite wealth spoilers#rgg
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WIP Wednesday
A little fluff from Hope Is Home and the Heart Is Free, the epilogue to All Dreams Were Worth Keeping (the one where NMJ [and the other two to a certain extent] has to come to grips with his grief over losing his father while navigating fatherhood himself). Right now Nie Mingjue has recently accepted the fact that the best thing to do with Lao Nie's old clothes is to incorporate them into his own wardrobe.
--//--
“I look just like him already even without all this,” Nie Mingjue says to the room at large. Meng Yao is sitting on the floor pulling things out from under the bed one at a time and he doesn’t look up from where he’s attempting to carefully extract a bundle of loose papers as he replies.
“Yes, I’ve noticed. Huaisang showed me some old photos from his mother’s scrapbooks; he was handsome, though I can very un-objectively assert that you’re much sexier.”
Nie Mingjue snorts at that and lets the amusement distract him long enough to shrug out of his own t-shirt and into the one in his hands. It’s plain, utterly indistinguishable from one of his own except for the fact that the fabric is downy soft and worn thin, the texture of it a far cry from the thicker weave of his own (likely much more expensive) clothes. He picks up the next thing he spots to go with it and shrugs into a stiff button-down, the Hawaiian print in shades of blue and green not nearly as obtrusive as some of the other pieces he distinctly remembers Lao Nie wearing regularly, laughing and larger than life either at the kitchen island or out in the back yard where they used to have a massive gas-powered grill for summer evenings.
Meng Yao looks up at him when he goes still again and Nie Mingjue watches his husband clamp an utterly blank mask over whatever it is he’s thinking – he hasn’t done that in so long that Nie Mingjue’s first instinct is to get defensive, but he forces himself to breathe through it instead of getting irritated.
“What’s that face for?”
“I’m not making a face.”
“Exactly.”
Meng Yao’s resolve visibly wavers for a moment before he covers his eyes with one hand and sighs. “You were wearing something almost identical to that the first time we hooked up, that’s all.”
Nie Mingjue blinks at that and glances down at himself, picking up the hem of the Hawaiian shirt between thumb and forefinger to study it and try to remember if he owns something like it. He’s never bought a Hawaiian shirt that he’s aware of, but there’s no doubt at all that Meng Yao’s memory is infinitely better than his so there’s very little chance that he’s wrong.
Still, that small hint of doubt pushes him to double check, “Are you sure?” which rightfully earns him a little pouting glare for daring to question Meng Yao’s ability to recall just about anything.
“Yes, and I distinctly remember spending most of the day wishing you didn’t look so good in what I would generously call ‘dad clothes’ even back then, and I’m feeling particularly vindicated in my assessment now that we’ve started this project. You already dress like an old man, I’m just glad we can save money on buying you a whole new wardrobe to facilitate that.”
“A-Yao if you have a thing for dads you can just say so-”
“Oh we are absolutely not having this conversation right now. Go back to your sorting, I’m busy.”
Nie Mingjue laughs at the blush in the apples of his husband’s cheeks, but he generously doesn’t press him on it, hopefully to bank a little good will for when he will inevitably irritate him again later. With Meng Yao unwilling to help him stall any longer, Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in and turns to face the mirror in the wardrobe, long enough to capture most of his tall frame.
#the untamed fanfic#WIP Wednesday#Nie Mingjue#Meng Yao#Nieyao#3zun#All Dreams Were Worth Keeping#Hope Is Home and the Heart Is Free#fluff
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Hmmm about HawaiiDelilah Twitter person…don’t native Hawaiians have a passive aggressive (or heavy disdain) towards the us government? Since you know….the government overthrown their monarchy and they can’t find their first king due to fear of the us government stealing it at the time.
Also aren’t Hawaiian frustrated with the ship jones act, ugh the law that particularly fucked over Hawaiian trade systems hence why shit is so expensive there.
I know their blue as a Smurf, but I don’t really see them bootlicking Biden when he done shit for several days prior. And that 700 dollars per person after giving Ukraine billion of dollars.
I would say so many curse words and slurs towards Biden that would make a sailor blush.
Gonna start near the end and then possibly bounce around, the $700 sounds a lot less insulting when you realize those went to everyone in the burn zone and were meant to be a 'we know you've lost everything, which includes your clean pants, food, medications, personal hygiene products, ect. so here's this money go get what you need to keep you going for a bit till we can start assessing the damage and figuring out how best to distribute aid.
My house burned down when I was in kindergarten, nobody but the pets were home, dogs were in the back yard, cats weren't so lucky, everything was gone.
Crashed at the house of family from our church, that also happened to be the family doctor (weird) with the clothes on our backs.
So the next day the 4 humans and 2 dogs had to get some clean clothes, thankfully my dad made enough money so that part wasn't a issue but if it had been then someone handing my folks $300 each would have been the world and while not enough to hold until insurance started paying out, it would be a start.
I was kinda livid about the $700 thing till I looked into it, but like I said it went to everyone so the guy with 12 million in the bank got it and the guy with 12 bucks in his pocket got it, it's rapid relief and buys time to assess the needs. I think it's one of the lessons learned from the Katrina response, not enough money to blow on frivolous things but still enough to keep you going.
All that said given the date on that tweet, the person making it wouldn't know all of that yet I don't think.
______________
As for the rest, ya afaik you're pretty spot on about the native attitude to the federal government, I don't know anything about the ship jones act so I can't comment there.
I did look up their history of voting and who wins and pretty much the only time a republican pops up it's because they're the president.
I think BrooklynDad gets like $20,000 or $50,000 to make his tweets, some of what he posts is likely his actual thoughts but he's also a paid shill same with LakotaMan and several others, high odds HawaiiDelilah is one of those too.
______________
This probably wasn't the response you were looking for, but I think it's good to have some context so we aren't wasting our breath yelling about nothingburgers so hopefully it still works for you.
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Wellness Wednesday:
Sittin', Waitin', Wishin'
Last week I made a proclamation that I was planning vacations - as well - for a long time now - I've been meaning to reward myself for maintaining my goals, weight, and exercise regimen, but it feels like I keep hitting road bumps financially.
Part of my overall Wellness Journey was to set myself up financially as well, but with life events, home remodeling, student loans payments coming back, car issues... I dont feel comfortable - by comfortable I mean I don't feel deserving of little social rewards such as going to the movies, traveling, or shopping because the toll on my bank account is increasingly detrimental.
I can't even imagine celebrating the holidays with gifts.
I have two more movies in mind that I have full intentions of seeing in the theatres - after that I'll probably call it for the year.
I will also need to plan further on how to budget my income towards groceries - start meal prepping - this one kind of blows because I already cut out take-out/dining-out, but most of my meals are individually packaged meals - quasi feels like I am losing my last bits of humanity and dignity... Effing First World Problems, amirite?
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30th CHECK-IN:
Current Goals:
Lose 52 lbs
Completed as of 4/12/2023
New Goal: Maintain or Continue on The Weight Loss Path
Avoid "Junk Food"
Minimize Take-Out / Fast Food Consumption
Short Term:
Vegetarian-ish Diet: Completed
End Date: 4/09/2023 - 46 Days Total
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Meal Tracker:
THURSDAY
Lunch:
Honey BBQ StarKist Tuna with Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant
(1) Johnsonville Beef Brat on a Hawaiian Bun
(2) Scoops of Broccoli Cheddar Pasta Salad
Snack:
(1) Medium Bowl of Valley Top Popcorn
(2) Individual Bags of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix
Supper:
Thai Chili StarKist Tuna with Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant
(2) Johnsonville Beef Brat on a Hawaiian Bun
(1) Glass of Rootbeer Flavored Milk
FRIDAY
Lunch:
Deli Style StarKist Tuna with Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant
(2) Hotdogs on Hawaiian Buns
Snack:
Large Bowl of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn
(1) Glass of Rootbeer Flavored Milk
Supper:
Large Plate of Kahiki Orange Chicken with InnovAsian Vegetable Rice
(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk
SATURDAY
Lunch:
Large Plate of Leftover Kahiki Orange Chicken with InnovAsian Vegetable Rice
(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk
Snack:
Large Bowl of Valley Top Popcorn
Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds
4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix
4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Flavored Pistachios Glazed Mix
Supper:
(3) Seasoned NY Strip Steaks (1.84 Lbs Total)
(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk
SUNDAY
Lunch:
American Style Pasta Salad with Chicken
Snack:
Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds
(2) Bags of Orville Redenbacher Ultimate Butter Popcorn
(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk
Supper:
Spinach Dijon Salad
(2) Small Oranges
MONDAY
Lunch:
Santa Fe Style Salad with Chicken
Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds
Snack:
Bag of Orville Redenbacher Ultimate Butter Popcorn
(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk
Supper:
Chef Salad
(1) Small Orange
TUESDAY
Lunch:
Bowl of Cesaer Salad with Croutons
Snack:
Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds
Supper:
Bowl of Leftover Cesaer Salad with Croutons
(1) Small Orange
(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk
WEDNESDAY
Lunch:
Bowl of Leftover Cesaer Salad with Croutons
(2) Hotdogs on Hawaiian Buns
Snack:
Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds
4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix
4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Flavored Pistachios Glazed Mix
Supper:
Crunchy Chicken Sandwich
- Swiss Cheese
- BuffaRanch Sauce
Crunchy Chicken Burrito
- Loaded Nacho Dip
(3) Pieces of Crispy Chicken Tenders
- Honey BBQ Sauce
- Ranch
(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk
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Workouts:
THURSDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]
FRIDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]
SATURDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]
SUNDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]
MONDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]
TUESDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [5 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 set of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]
WEDNESDAY
(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]
(100) Glute Bridges[4 sets of 25]
(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]
(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 Sets of 50]
(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]
(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]
(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]
.
.
WEIGHT TRACKER:
Starting Weight (Noon, 1/01/2023): XXX.X lbs
Weight at Last Check-In, 7/19/2023: +0.2 lbs
Weight As of Noon, 7/26/2023: -0.4 lbs
Total Weight Loss: -78.4 lbs
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.
Closing Thoughts:
The Good:
I've read some pretty good comics/trades recently. The small escape it provides me has been refreshing.
The Bad:
Stiff muscles all around.
The Ugly:
Increased apathy towards things like work, socializing, and general life.
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KE AUPUNI UPDATE - APRIL 2023
The Issue of Nationality
As soon as the fake annexation was executed in 1898, the traitors who sold out the Hawaiian Kingdom to the U.S., launched a rigorous denationalization campaign to erase any vestige of Hawaiian nationality and identity with the Hawaiian Kingdom. After three generations of relentless indoctrination, virtually all Hawaiians believed Hawaii was a “state” of America and that they (we) were all Americans.
It wasn’t until the 1970s that some began to see the United States’ claim to the Hawaiian Islands was fraudulent and began to challenge U.S. citizenship.
Why is this important?
When Hawaii is restored as a sovereign independent nation, Who will be its people? Who gets to make decisions and operate the nation? And for what purposes and for whose benefit? As an independent country, Hawaii needs its own people—its nationals—to be in charge.
What is a “Hawaiian National”?
A Hawaiian National (a.k.a. Hawaiian subject) is a person who considers the Kingdom of the Hawaiian Islands to be his or her home country. It is based not on ethnicity, but on one’s aloha ʻāina, love and loyalty to Hawaiʻi.
What’s the down side?
• The United States and the “Fake State” refuse to accept the Hawaiian Kingdom still exists, so treat Hawaiian Nationals in the Hawaiian Islands as illegal aliens... and often worse.
• This makes it difficult and even risky for Hawaiian Nationals to carry on many everyday activities such as driving automobiles, using banking services, obtaining employment, obtaining housing, traveling by air, paying taxes, etc.
• Until “the huli” (the flip) comes, Hawaiian nationals run the risk of discrimination, harassment, intimidation, coercion, prosecution, and jail by the U.S. and the “Fake State”.
What’s the up side?
• The U.S. occupation will end soon. Although the U.S. suppression of Hawaiian Nationals has been going on for over a hundred years, the injustices and abuses are being exposed and vigorously challenged.
• The more people claim and transition to their identity as Hawaiian Nationals, the more visible and tangible our nation becomes to our people and the world, the quicker the occupation will end.
Why should one become a Hawaiian National?
• To ‘come home’ and place your allegiance with the country to which you belong;
• To make the Hawaiian Kingdom visible as a nation with actual people;
• To participate in the reactivation and restoration of the Hawaiian Kingdom;
• To participate in re-building our nation.
Start asking yourself these questions: What is your nationality? Is it Hawaiian or American? To which country do you wish to belong? Start setting your sights and ordering your lives accordingly, so when the opportunity arrives, youʻll be ready to make the move to come home.
“Love of country is deep-seated in the breast of every Hawaiian, whatever his station.” — Queen Liliʻuokalani
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Ua mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono. The sovereignty of the land is perpetuated in righteousness.
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For the latest news and developments about our progress at the United Nations in both New York and Geneva, tune in to Free Hawaii News at
6 PM the first Friday of each month on ʻŌlelo Television, Channel 53.
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"And remember, for the latest updates and information about the Hawaiian Kingdom check out the twice-a-month Ke Aupuni Updates published online on Facebook and other social media."
PLEASE KŌKUA…
Your kōkua, large or small, is vital to this effort...
To contribute, go to:
• GoFundMe – CAMPAIGN TO FREE HAWAII
• PayPal – use account email: [email protected]
• Other – To contribute in other ways (airline miles, travel vouchers, volunteer services, etc...) email us at: [email protected]
“FREE HAWAII” T-SHIRTS - etc.
Check out the great FREE HAWAII products you can purchase at...
http://www.robkajiwara.com/store/c8/free_hawaii_products
All proceeds are used to help the cause. MAHALO!
Malama Pono,
Leon Siu
Hawaiian National
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Hardison, inventing bank robber's demands: Now look, they have a list of demands. First off they want 12 large pizzas, one cheese, one Hawaiian extra pineapple, 2 pepperoni black olives, 2 meat lovers. Seriously, nobody's writing this down? Seriously? One Triple-Shot Half-Caff Moca Latte. Three of the latest copies of Hall & Oates CD. I know right, exciting stuff, I didn't know they were still coming out with a new one either. Um, we're gonna need some steaks people and a grill. Okay they need your overalls, I don't know why. We need some Kibbles 'n Bits. We need a Etch-A-Sketch, someone likes to squiggle. Possibly could we get some stuffed bears... Are we good? Let's go people.
#alec hardison appreciation#leverage#leverage quote#alec hardison#the bankshot job#leverage screencaps
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