#I GO INSANE ABOUT SAI WHY DID THEY JUST DO THAT!!!!!!!!

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?

The sheets didn't smell like Max anymore. Colette had changed them over a week ago.

She ran her hand over the empty space next to her, the sheets cool to the touch. Empty. Alone. 

Colette wished Max was there. That she could simply turn around and he would be there. But he wasn't. 

Bébé took that moment to kick her bladder and she sighed as she pushed herself to sit up. 

The sun was lower on the sky an she knew that she must have napped at least a few hours. "Bathroom and then we can see what we'll have for dinner," she suggested to the baby.

She got an answering kick in response that made her snort. 

After taking care of her business, she made her way to the kitchen, feeling a rumbling in her stomach.

To her surprise, Colette wasn’t alone in their apartment. "You do know that I am adult, right?" she asked her mother and her oldest brother drily as waddled into the kitchen. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, probably busy with his actual job. "I can be left alone. Chances are I'll just go back to watching reruns of Real Housewives this evening," she said drily.

Neither of them laughed at this. She looked up from opening the fridge to see their...very serious expression. Colette paused, a cold feeling of dread worming its way into her stomach. Something was wrong, she could tell by their expressions. "What?" she asked, closing the refrigerator door.

Was something wrong with Max? With Cha?

She had never outright believed in the whole idea of twin telepathy or anything like that...but Charles and her had this...thing. If something was really wrong with each other...they could feel it.

And she couldn’t feel anything…not like that, not right now.  

"Did...did something happen to Max?" Colette asked shakily, almost afraid of the answer. Her mind instantly went to the worst-case scenario. "Is he...okay?"

Her mother and brother traded a glance, which did nothing to calm her nerves. "Max is fine," her mother promised her. "Why don't you sit down, Choupinette?" This also wasn't calming her.

"Enzo?" Colette asked, her voice shaky.

"Nobody is hurt or dying," Lorenzo promised her quickly. "It's...complicated."

Colette nodded, lowering herself into a seat at the kitchen island. Her heart was still racing, palms a bit sweaty.

"Complicated how?" she asked, her voice a bit hoarse.

"I would like to preface this by saying that Arthur didn't...think this through," Lorenzo said with a grimace.

Colette's eyes widened in disbelief. "Arthur...what did he do?" she asked immediately. 

"He may have posted that post you made on your stories in his," Lorenzo said carefully.

Colette's jaw dropped open in shock. "He...he WHAT?!" she nearly shrieked, hands gripping the edge of the table.

What? How could her brother do this? How could he...

That ill-thought out post she had made...with a Taylor Swift lyric that she had thought was cute...to her less than 200 followers that all knew about her and Max anyway…

What? How could her brother do this? How could he...

Colette's hands were shaking now as she tried to process what her brother had done. "Are you serious?" she finally managed to whisper.

And now it was  out there. For EVERYBODY TO SEE. Everybody. Everybody could see her post about Max. Everybody could see her saying that Max came straight home to her.

They had spent 15 years keeping their relationship a secret. And now...now there they were.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm the panic that was welling up inside of her. "Oh god...oh god," she muttered, her mind racing.

"People are going to see that. Max's fans are going to see that," she whispered, her stomach clenching. "Oh god, they're going to see it and figure things out."

Her mother reached out, placing a calming hand on her arm. "It's okay, Choupinette," she said gently. "It's going to be okay."

Colette shook her head. "No, it's not," she said, her voice shaky. "How could Arthur do this? He knows...he knows that I didn't want anybody to know," she whispered, tears biting in her eyes. She wasn't even sure what to do. She wasn't even sure what to think.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, worry, frustration...and anger. So much anger at her brother, for not thinking, for not asking first, for not considering the consequences.

"How could he just... do this?" she said again, her voice cracking.

Lorenzo tried to come closer, but she held up a hand to stop him. She didn't want his touch, not right now. "Arthur should have asked me before doing something like this," she said, her voice shaking. "He knows...he knows that Max and I...we keep our relationship private."

"I...I need some space right now," she choked out, pushing her chair back and standing up. She had to get out of here, get some air.

She left the kitchen, leaving her family behind.

She found herself in the living room, collapsing onto the couch, her hands covering her face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She couldn't believe what her brother had done. 

And now...now it was out there. Their secret, Max's secret, their life...everything.

She tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down, but she couldn't. She was angry, hurt, scared…

Their relationship...it had always been a safe space to Colette. 

Somewhere where she could just be herself. With Max, she felt loved and safe and quite frankly, spoiled rotten by his attention. She didn't need to think about what she said, she could just be comfortable. And nobody had an inside look into that relationship that she didn't want to. They had admitted it to people over the years, to friends and colleagues and family members. But to the public they had never been connected beyond Colette being the twin sister of one of Max's biggest rivals. 

She had liked her anonymity. Had liked that nobody paid her a second look on the street. That nobody even thought twice about her.

Her role could just be Charles and Arthur's supportive sister. Nothing more, nothing less. Max knew that she loved him, that she supported him in the privacy of their relationship. It wasn't something she needed anybody else to know.

But now it was out there.

Colette buried her head in her hands, letting out a soft sob. It was out there, and it couldn't be taken back. No amount of damage control, no amount of apology was going to take those words back.

She could already see the headlines in her head: “Max Verstappen’s secret girlfriend”

It was so much worse than she had expected. The idea of being exposed like this...it made her want to crawl under a rock and hide for the rest of her life.

Colette didn't want to deal with the media circus, the gossip, the speculation. She didn't want to deal with any of it.

She didn't want her life to be dissected. She didn't want everything to be picked apart.

But that's what was going to happen. The vultures were going to descend, the media was going to hound her, her inbox would be filled with requests for comment and statements.

She was going to be the topic of everyone's conversation, speculation, and judgment.

She wanted to cry, scream, and throw something simultaneously.

She didn't ask for this, she wasn't built for this.

She wanted her anonymity, her simple life, her relationship to be private. That's all she had ever wanted...was that too much to ask for?

But now it was all in jeopardy, because her brother wasn't able to keep his mouth shut. She knew that he hadn't done it to hurt her...he had just been a idiot without a brain. But that didn't make the situation any easier for her.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to gather her thoughts.

But now it was gone. The secret was out, and there was no turning back. She was going to be under the microscope, every move she made, every word she spoke, every expression on her face would be analyzed and scrutinized.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Colette leaned back against the couch, feeling the weight of the situation crashing down on her. 

She had always known that Max's life would come with a certain amount of spotlight and media attention, but she had never expected to be dragged into it.

She had always been in the shadows, quietly supporting him from behind the scenes, but now she was being thrust into the bright light of the media spotlight. And she couldn't help but cry her eyes out about it.

She let the tears flow, feeling the sobs rack her body. It was too much, all too much. She was exposed, vulnerable, and raw. And she had no idea how to handle it.

"Choupinette," her mother said softly, sitting down besides her.

Colette barely registered her mother's presence, too consumed by her own despair. But she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, gentle and comforting.

She buried her face in her mother's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her mother just held her, stroking her hair and whispering soothing words of comfort. "It's going to be okay," she promised. "I promise, it's going to be okay."

"Maybe it won't even be so bad," her mother tried to comfort her. "It will blow over. You do love Max and he loves you."

"It was going to get out sometime," Lorenzo said quietly. "It was question of when not if, Colette. It was a miracle that you were able to keep it quiet for so long."

This only made Colette cry harder.

She hadn't wanted anybody to know. She had wanted privacy. She had wanted…

She had wanted it to just be her and Max, living their life together, without any outside interference.

She knew it was foolish to think that it could last forever, but a small part of her had hoped.

Now it was going to be ruined. And it was all because of her stupid brother and his impulsive behavior.

She didn't want the attention. She didn't want the speculation, the questions, the accusations.

All she wanted was Max.

She wanted him, his warmth, his soft reassurances, his quiet love. She wanted him with her and just to curl up in his arms. Where she could forget everything else and just be.

But she couldn't do that. The truth was out there now, and there was no way to erase it.

She was Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, the public knew, and there was nowhere she could hide from it.

And that thought terrified her more than anything else. She didn't know how to handle the public eye, the media interest, the gossip. It was like a massive wave that was about to crush her, and she had no life raft to hold onto.

She leaned closer into her mother, feeling like a child again. The sobs continued to rack her body, and all she could do was hold onto her mother's comforting embrace.

She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to handle this.

***

This was the last fucking news Max wanted to hear before qualifying. The absolute last.

He loved the Leclercs. He did. He loved Colette’s family like his own. And he loved her brothers like his own. 

But this was making him absolutely furious with Arthur. 

And he would have liked to destroy his driver’s room in a fit of rage, but he wasn’t going to do that. He was not going to let his emotions get the best of him. 

Not when he understood where Arthur was coming from. Even when he hated the way he had gone about it. 

Max had half a mind to simply throw the towel. To give up. What did it matter anymore? He had won his 4th World Championship title…Red Bull wasn’t in the running for the constructor’s championship anymore…that was between Ferrari and McLaren… so did it matter? 

Wouldn’t he be more useful at Colette’s side? 

But he knew that if he asked her…he knew what her answer would be. 

She wouldn’t stand for it. 

She knew that he wouldn’t forgive himself for this. He wanted to win. It was in his DNA. It wasn’t in him to leave things unfinished. 

She would tell him to do it. To finish that race. And then to come straight home to her. 

But it was hard, especially when he knew that the media was going to be all over this. The vultures were going to be circling, waiting for any slip up, any moment of weakness. 

It wasn't like he cared if his and Colette's relationship became public. He was content with screaming it from every rooftop. He would happily post his beautiful girlfriend on his Instagram daily. He was more than willing to take her to some charity gala and kiss her in the view of every camera that was there...but he knew how important it had always been for Colette.

And now she was exposed, without warning and without even knowing. 

Max wanted to find her brother and wring his neck for this. How could he be so careless, so thoughtless?

He knew how important Colette's privacy was to her, how much she valued it. And now it was gone. Just like that.

Colette wanted to keep a low profile. She was more than happy to be the always supportive sister to her brothers, to cheer them on from the sidelines...and she herself was happy to work in her mother's hair salon, and dabble at playing the piano and violin…and content to simply be.

He had always loved that about her…how happy she could be with the most simple of things. 

Colette didn’t enjoy the spotlight, she preferred the shadows. And now she had been thrown into the whirlwind of media attention.

He knew that she wasn’t going to handle this well. 

And he was seriously considering throwing the towel. 

To say fuck it all and go back to Monaco. 

His father didn’t want to hear a single thing about it.

Jos had never really approved of Max's relationship with Colette. He thought it made him weak, he thought Max needed to focus on racing, not on some girl… but Max had been stubborn.

Colette was everything to him. Colette’s place in his life was not something they were going to argue about it. It was set in stone. 

 And so, through the years his father had realised that Colette was there to stay. 

And he may even had started to respect her place in Max’s life, realised that her presence calmed him and focused him in a way nothing else did…Realised that Colette was good for Max. 

And even for his relationship with his father. 

Nowadays…they got along better than they ever had and quite frankly they had Colette to thank for that. She had softened his father with her calm, gentle and yet incredibly stubborn nature, unwilling to take any of his bullshit and willing to call him out on it, constantly.

Still, Max wanted to get to Colette. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that everything was going to be okay eventually. He wanted to place a hand on her swollen belly and feel bébé rumble underneath her skin…wanted to see that everything was alright with her and their baby. 

“You have a job to do,” his father said drily. “Colette isn’t alone. She has her family with her.”

Max didn't answer, just clenched his jaw.

He knew his father was right, he had a job to do, a race to focus on. But the thought of leaving Colette to deal with that by herself…it didn't sit well with him.

“She’s pregnant,” he hissed. “You want me to care about a race while my pregnant girlfriend is an ocean away, distraught, because our relationship just became public knowledge?!” Max asked sharply.

His father scowled.

“She has her brothers and her mother with her,” he repeated sternly. “I’m sure they can calm her down and make sure she’s taken care of in your absence. But the team needs you to focus on the race. Besides…It ha​​s been a long time coming…”

He knew he had a job to do. He had a race to focus on, a team that was depending on him to be at the top of his game. It was his job to win, no matter what was going on at home.

“Fine,” he gritted out, turning around to leave the room. “I’ll focus on the damn race.”

He took a deep breath, trying to push all thoughts of Colette out of his mind. He needed to focus. He needed to push aside his emotions and put his game face on.

He was a professional and he had a job to do.

He could deal with driving.  He could deal with managing a respectable 5th place on the grid in Qualifying…he couldn’t deal with the press afterwards.

He was surrounded by reporters, camera flashes and microphones. They were all firing question after question at him, shoving the microphones closer and closer to his face.

"Max, is it true that you and Colette Leclerc are in a relationship?"

Max clenched his jaw, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. He didn’t want to give them any ammunition, anything they could use to try and dig deeper into his personal life. But he knew he couldn’t ignore the question either.

“I don’t see how my relationship status is relevant to the race,” he snapped back. “I’m here to talk about the race, not my personal life.”

They happily ignored that: “What’s Charles’ reaction to your relationship?”

Max clenched his jaw again, the anger starting to boil over. He hated this, the way they felt like they had the right to just poke and prod at his life like it was some kind of spectacle for them to enjoy.

“I’m not discussing my personal life,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “I’m here to talk about the race.”

But the reporters weren’t interested in the race. They were only interested in the juicy gossip of Max Verstappen dating Colette Leclerc.

More microphones were shoved in his face, more questions were asked, each one more invasive than the last.

“How serious is your relationship with Colette?”

“Are you engaged?”

“What did you think about what she posted on Instagram?“

“I think that Colette’s Instagram account is private for a reason,” he said tightly.

The reporters fell silent for a moment, surprised by the harsh tone. Max knew he was skating on thin ice, but he didn’t care. He was angry, frustrated and upset. He wanted nothing more than to find a quiet corner to just brood and worry about Colette in peace.

“I think that George overreacted about something that was posted on a private Instagram profile that has less than 200 followers. ” Max bit out. “There is a difference between posting something for your friends and family to see and complaining about this to the press when George knew it would be put all over the media.”

The reporters were stunned into silence at his outburst.

Max knew he had crossed a line. He knew he shouldn’t be snapping at them like that, but he couldn’t help it. He was so frustrated and upset, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew he had to reel it in before he said something he would regret even more. “I have already lost all respect for George Russell before, but he has crossed a line when he dragged this into the public sphere,” he said flatly.

The reporters' eyes widened, surprised by the ferocity of his words.

Max knew he was being harsh, but he didn’t care. He was furious, enraged. How dare Russell expose their private life like that? 

Max took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. But it was hard. The anger was like a living thing inside him, seething and burning. He wanted to storm over to the Mercedes garage and punch Russell in the face, to wipe that smirk off his face for good. But he knew he couldn’t. 

So he stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to keep the anger at bay. Trying to ignore the way the reporters were looking at him with greedy, excited eyes.

He knew they wanted him to explode, to lash out. They wanted him to go off the rails and say something even more incriminating. Something they could use to make more headlines. But Max couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t let them get a rise out of him. So he stood there, trying his best to remain calm and collected.

But it was hard. So goddamn hard.

He could feel the tension in his body, feel the anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He wanted to do something, to take action and make the situation right. But he didn’t know what he could do, how he could make it right.

He didn’t know how he could fix the mess that had been made, how he could turn back time and undo the damage that had been done.

"Do you have any questions about the race tomorrow? Because otherwise I am done," he asked.

The reporters stood there for a moment, frozen in shock. Then, a few of them started to ask questions about the upcoming race, but Max could tell that their hearts weren’t in it. They were too distracted by his outburst, too eager to keep prodding at the sensitive issue of his relationship with Colette.

The reporters looked at each other for a moment, unsure whether to press him further or not. Max could see the wheels turning in their heads, could see them trying to decide whether they would press the issue or let it go.

Eventually, the more sensible reporters began to ask questions about the race, steering the conversation away from the minefield of his personal life.

[arc-misadventures]

Friends AU:

It's been 6 months since jaune join the ace ops and ironwood has been giving jaune more responsibility after seeing the work his done and even gaining the trust of the poeple

His even been opening up to winter and she's happy to see jaune smile

Wait, What Happened?

Jaune's finger ran across his breastplate, he remember distinctly where precisely, Tryian had stabbed him with his stinger, and yet he couldn't find so much as a scratch on his armour from his stinger.

: Looking for something, Jaune?

Jaune looked over to see, Winter walking across the locker room towards him.

Jaune: Hello, Winter. I'm just checking my armour.

Winter walked over , and stood next to, Jaune running her hand along his chest piece feeling the smooth mental under her gloved fingers.

Jaune: I'm impressed; Atlas's armour's are quite skilled. If it wasn't for the fact that it was me who got stabbed, I dare say I was never stabbed in the first place.

Jaune finished speaking as he put on his armour, and fastened its straps. After, Jaune checked the snugness of his armour, he grabbed a small black box, and pulled out a silver falcon badge, and placed it on his left coat collar. Winter watched as, Jaune put the badge on, eyeing it with extreme suspicion.

Winter: What... What is that?

Jaune: Hmm, oh this?

Jaune turned to look at, Winter as he pointed to the silver falcon badge.

Winter: Yes, that...!

Jaune: Yeah, I got this from, Robyn Hill.

Winter: Robyn Hill gave you that...?

Jaune: Yeah.

Winter: And, why did she give you this... thing...?

Jaune: Uhh...? It's a token of affection...

Winter: A token of what now...?

Jaune: I-It was a thank you! I saved her from, Tyrian, she gave me this as a gift!

Winter: Then why are you calling it a, 'token of affection...?!"

Jaune: W-W-Well, I'm a knight... a k-knight in shining white armour, and I saved the maiden from a monster... S-so she gave me this badge as a 'token of affection!'

Winter: So, you two were just playing on your knightly stereotype...?

Winter was walking ever closer to, Jaune leading to be place his back against the locker as her ice cold gaze stared him down.

Jaune: Y-Yes...?

Winter gave him a look before grabbing his sash, and tightening it, Before using it to pull him closer to her.

Winter: Then this is my token of affection. That I gave to my knight. Remember that!

Jaune: O-O-Okay!

Winter: Good... I'll see you in the meeting room, Jaune.

Jaune: O-Okay...

Winter then let go of, Jaune and started walking away, a noticeable sway in her hips as she left. Jaune slowly slide down the locker doors until his butt slumped on the ground as he exhaled a deep breath as he calmed his nerves.

Jaune: Bloody hell...

: Well, that was something?

Jaune: What?

: Who knew that, Winter could be so jealous. But, for you, Jaune, I can understand why~!

Jaune: Ohhh... shut it, Pyrrha...

Pyrrha: Ah-hahaha~!

~~~

Ironwood: Ahh, Specialist Arc. Glad you could make it.

Jaune: Sorry, I'm late, Sir.

Ironwood: It's alright, Mr. Arc. It makes sense that you are a little groggy since it hasn't even been a day since you were in the hospital.

Yang: Wait, Jaune was in the hospital?

Ruby: What was he in for?

Ironwood: Honestly, Mr. Arc, I'm tempted to order you to some, R and R. The last reports I read did say your you're still fighting off the last of the poison in your body.

Nora: Jaune was poisoned?!

Blake: How did that happen?!

Jaune: Only if you do the same, Sir.

Ironwood: That's not happening.

A small chortle of laughter echoed through the meeting hall, but it stopped as, General Ironwood started the briefing.

Ironwood: Now, two days ago we were alerted to the fact that, Tyrian Callows was in, Mantle...

The presentation started, showing a photo of, Tyrian's insane expression,

Qrow: Ugh, not that deranged fucker...

Ren: This isn't going to be good.

Ironwood: Luckily, thanks to, Specialist Arc's recent actions, we will not need to worry about him causing any chaos.

The next photo of the presentation displayed a photo showing another picture of, Tyrian his mouth, and eyes closed, and a purple ring ran along his neck as it was bent at an odd angle.

Qrow: He's dead?!

Ruby: Jaune killed him?!

Weiss: The hell...?!

Ironwood: And, because of, Specialist Arc actions we've were able to acquire several useful items of information's...

The presentation changed to show a photo, and a diagnostic of, Tyrian's prosthetic tail.

Nora: He got a new tail?

Ruby: Well yeah, he had too after I cut it off.

Nora: Oh yeah, I forgot about that.

Weiss: You did what?!

Ironwood: Thanks to the efforts of the, Atlas Corp of Engineers as well as help from, Dr. Polendina we were able to find a... stylistic signature.

Nora: What's that?

Penny: A set of distinctive stylistic choices, be they patterns, methods, or overall designs that renders someone work identifiable from a glance.

Nora: Wha?

Ironwood: This 'signature' was identified to be from someone we thought dead. This man here...

The slide turned to show a photo of a lanky, scarecrow of a man in a white lab coat.

Ironwood: This man is, Arthur Watts, we assumed he died ten years ago in a lab explosion. Since we never found the body, we can now assume that he faked his death. Now, Arthur Watts is highly skilled with cybernetics, and biomechanics. He is not a skilled fighter, but he makes up with his skills in computers. So, while you are out in the field, keep an eye out for, Watts. Watts, and anyone else you may see with him. Any questions?

Several hands among the, Specialist rose up, Ironwood nodded his head in silent pride of his, Specialist incitive to ask questions about their missions.

Ironwood: Clover?

Clover: Since we've identified this man, and we know his specialties. what counter massagers are we implementing to counter him?

Ironwood: We've been beefing up the cybersecurity, and fire walls around, Atlas to prevent him from exploiting our systems.

Jaune: Are you also upgrading the cybersecurity for, Mantle, Sir?

Ironwood: Yes, after the implantations of the fortifications are done, we need to beef up the severally unreliable security systems in, Mantle.

Jaune: Good. May, I ask another question, Sir?

Ironwood: Of course.

Jaune: During the, Fall, the, Atlas's Knights turned on us. Do you think that this, Arthur Watts fellow had anything to do with that?

Ironwood: Hmmm... That is a good question... It is likely theory that it was him who hacked our, Knights during the, Fall. I best order that the, Knight be given an upgrade as well. Excellent observation, Specialist Arc.

Jaune: Thank you, Sir.

Harriet: Wait, if this man hacked, and hijacked our, Knights... Then what's the chance of him doing the same to, Penny? I mean... she may look human, but she is an android.

Silence enveloped the room as everyone turned to look at, Penny as she nervous looked about. Ruby took her hand as she tried to reassure her friend at the sudden realization that she could be hack, and turned to attack her friends.

Ironwood: Hmm... Penny?

Penny: Y-Y-Yes, Sir?

Ironwood: Call your father, I wish to have a meeting with him at his lab, and I will require your presence as well for this meeting. We have... much to discuss about.

Penny: Yes, Sir...

Ironwood: Now, then... Specialist Arc?

Jaune: Yes, Sir?

Ironwood: Based on the fact, Tyrian tried to attack, Robyn Hill, it is evident she has become a target. I want you to go down to, Mantle, and inform her of the situation. Since you saved her from, Tyrian she will no doubt trust you.

Yang: Wait, Jaune saved, Robyn Hill?

Nora: When did that happen?!

Penny: The same day he killed, Tyrian Tallows.

Weiss: When did that happen?

Penny: Three days ago.

RWBYNR: What?!

Nora: Did you know this, Penny?

Penny: Yes, I was there when we extracted, Tyrian's dead body.

Ruby: Why didn't you tell us any of this?!

Penny: ...

Penny: Error...

RWBYNR: WHAT?!

The Specialists, as well as, General Ironwood all stared at the members of, Team RWBY as well as, Penny, Nora, and Ren. waiting for them to stop their impromptu conversation.

Ruby: Eh-hehe... Sorry...

The group finished staring at them before returning to face, General Ironwood, and his presentation.

Jaune: Understood. How much information am I allowed to share with her, Sir?

Ironwood: Only what she needs to know, Specialist.

Jaune: Understood.

Ironwood: Now then, go down to, Mantle, and inform her of what is happening.

Jaune: Yes, Sir! Permission to leave, Sir?

Ironwood: Permission granted.

Jaune got up, and grabbed, Crocea Mors, attaching it to his waist as he made to leave, but was stopped as, Winter made an impromptu request.

Winter: Sir! Permission to accompany, Specialist Arc.

Ironwood: Denied.

Winter: May I ask why, Sir?

Ironwood: You are needed here for information about, Tyrian's prosthetic tail.

Winter: But, shouldn't, Specialist Arc be accompanied by his fellow, Specialist's? After all, it hasn't been a day yet since he was discharged from the hospital.

Ironwood: No, Specialist Arc, has proved himself more than capable of handling himself with, Tyrian; He should be fine.

Winter: But, shouldn't he have someone with him when it comes to dealing with that bitch...?! I mean, Robyn Hill?

Vine: Did she just call, Robyn Hill a, 'bitch?'

Elm: I-Is she jealous...?

Harriet: Wait, does that mean, Winter likes...?!

Clover: Oh, he's totally going to have to explain that to me later.

Marrow: Wait... what's going on?

Ironwood: No, your reputation as my second, and as, Jacques Schnee's daughter will no doubt sour her willingness to discuss anything with you present.

Winter: Shit!

Ironwood: You're dismissed, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Uhh... Yes, Sir.

Winter soon took her seat, her arms crossed as she silently grumbled to herself. But, as she grumbled to herself, Harriet leaned over to ask her the important question that was on everyone's mind.

Harriet: So... You, and Jaune~?

Winter: Fuck off!

Harriet: Okay?!

All the while this was happening, Weiss was a few rows behind her sister losing her mind at the sudden realization.

Weiss: Winter... likes, Jaune?!

Yang: Looks like he did steal your sister away...

Weiss: What the fuck?!

Ruby: Guys the meetings over, we need to ask, Jaune what happened before he leaves!

Yang: Oh, shit you're right!

Nora: Let's go! He's got a lot of questions to answer us!

Weiss: Many questions!

~~~

Ruby: Jaune wait!

Jaune was walking towards the landing pads, and was about to reach one of the bullheads when his named was called out from behind him. When he turned around he saw seven individuals he wasn't looking forward to see. A tired sigh escaped his lips, as he stood before them with his hand resting on his swords pommel.

Jaune: Can I help you?

Ruby: You were in the hospital?!

Blake: You killed, Tyrian?!

Ren: They said you were poisoned, were you poisoned because of, Tyrian's stinger?

Nora: Why didn't you tell us any of this?!

Weiss: Did you fuck my sister?!

Jaune was going to answer their string of questions, but was stopped when, Weiss asked her very deliberate, 'important' question. In fact, her question derailed everyone's train of thought. They all shared a stare at, Weiss who looked back at them all in indignation.

Weiss: What?

Jaune just shook his head, before answering everyone's question, deciding to answer, Weiss's first. She looked like she was about to blow a gasket if he didn't answer her first.

Jaune: Okay, Weiss... Winter, and I... Well... we're not in a relationship... there is something there... but... we're... yeah...

Yang: You have no idea what's going on between the two of you, do you?

Jaune: I have as much as an idea as, Winter does. I mean, I like her, she likes me... She kissed me when I was in the hospital. Other than...?!

Weiss: YOU KISSED HER?!

A flash of steel flew through the air as, Weiss drew her rapier, and pointed it at, Jaune's face. He stared at the tip of the blade, resting mere inches from his face. Jaune watched as, Weiss, was being restrained by, Yang, and Ruby. While, Jaune just nonchalantly pushed the blade away from his face with his finger.

Jaune: Weiss, if you want to know anything about this... situation, then ask, Winter. I'm still not sure what to do with her, and... yeah...

Weiss: Fine... but, if I heard you did anything to my sister, I will gut you like a fish!

Jaune: Noted...

Weiss then sheathed her blade, but was still staring daggers at, Jaune.

Jaune: Haa... Okay...

Jaune: I went to the walls of, Mantle to check on the progress of the fortifications. I learned that members of the, Happy Huntresses caused a small disruption at the wall. I learned about a rally that, Robyn Hill was holding, so I went down to ask her what happened.

Jaune: It turns out that only a few of her followers went down to the wall, they were simply demanding why it was taking so long, Luckily members of the, Happy Huntresses dispersed the crowds. After, Robyn Hill explained this to me, I decided to stick around so nothing happened. Good thing that I did...

Jaune: While I was watching the crowd at the rally I noticed a suspicious individual making their way to the stage. I moved to cut them off, and low, and behold it's, Tyrian.

Jaune: So, we fought, I was mostly stalling for time for help to arrive, and to buy time for the civilians to get out. Robyn stayed behind to help me fight, Tyrian. I learned that, Robyn was, Tyrian's target, so to make sure he didn't kill her I threw my sword at him. This left me exposed, and then he jumped me, stabbed my in the shoulder with his shoulder. He then pinned, Robyn down, and was about to kill her. When I then got up, and snapped his neck, killing him. Then fainted, no doubt from a combination of, Tyrian's poison, and an adrenaline rush. Then I woke up in the hospital a day later. Annnnd, that's it.

As, Jaune finished speaking everyone stopped, and stared at, Jaune in stunned amazement. Several of them, Yang, and Blake wanted to call bullshit, but since had, Tyrian's dead body in a morgue somewhere, it was pretty difficult to deny it.

Yang: Okay... that's a lot to take in...

Ren: All of that happened in a day... half a day at that?!

Jaune: A little less than that, but yeah, pretty much.

Blake: You got stabbed by, Tyrian's stinger, and got poisoned?

Jaune: Yeah, his prosthetic stinger was strong enough to pierce my armour. Not to mention his semblance made a hole in my aura to pierce through it. So, I got poisoned. Least I killed, Tyrian, and saved, Robyn Hill.

Nora: Jaune... W-Why didn't you tell us any of this happened?

Jaune could hear the sorrow, and the pain upon, Nora's face. He looked at her, and gave a tired sigh. But, as he thought of his answer, an interesting question came to mind.

Jaune: I was in a coma for over a day, and when I woke up I was going through medical tests to check for poison in my veins. But, if you want to be upset with anyone for not telling you I was in the hospital, they you should ask her, and ask why she didn't tell anyone I was in the hospital.

Jaune looked past, Nora, and looked towards, Penny who walked back in shock.

Penny: M-Me? Why me?

Jaune: You were there when the, Specialists took me to the hospital, and you were there with me, and General Ironwood when I was giving him a debriefing at the hospital. Why didn't you tell them anything about happened?

Penny: Well I...?

Jaune: Now that I think about it... You've been asked multiple times to contact, and find me, and you didn't, couldn't. You were supposed to invite people to my birthday, but you didn't invited anyone. You forgot about me during the game of hide 'an go seek. And, you've lost my contact data several times when you wanted to talk to me. Penny, do you hate me?

Penny: No, I don't hate you. Hiccup!

Everyone froze as they all turned to look at, Penny as a stunning realization slowly came in.

Yang: She hiccupped...?

Weiss: She's lying, why is she lying...?

Jaune: Do you hate me, Penny?

Penny: No, I'm don't. Hiccup!

Jaune: What did I do to make you hate me, Penny?

Penny: Nothing. I don't... Hiccup! I don't hate you. Hiccup!

Jaune: You know hiccupping is your tell, Penny. We all know you're lying. Why are you lying?

Penny: I'm not! Hiccup!

Jaune felt like, Penny was hiding something, not from him, no she was hiding something from herself. And, whatever it was involved him, but how was the question.

Jaune: You're not angry at me for something I did?

Penny: No, no I'm not!

Nora: She didn't hiccup?

Ren: But, why is she hiccupping?

Jaune: You're not angry at me for something I did... Then... Are angry at me because of something someone else did to you?

Penny: No. Hiccup!

Ruby: Why is she angry at him for something someone else did to her?

Yang: Good question...

Jaune: You're angry at me because of something someone else did to you. Yet, you're taking out your anger on me, and not the other person. You're using me as a proxy because you can't let that person know that you hate them...

Penny: N-No I'm not! Hiccup!

Jaune: Not because you don't want them to know you hate them, but because you can't hate them because... because they're dead...

A silence hung in the air as the realization struck them. Penny didn't hate, Jaune because it was, Jaune. She hated him because he was close to someone who hurt, Penny, and Jaune was the only person she could hurt in retribution.

But, this hate had been shoved away by, Penny's subconscious mind. Deep away that she could no longer remember what, or who it was she hated. But, the memory was not shoved deep enough that she didn't remember the raw emotions of this hate. No, she remembered the pain, the sorrow, and her hatred of the one who wronged her.

As, Jaune's mind struggled to put the pieces together he came to a sudden, and startling realization. The fact that there was only one person who had wrong, Penny, and was close to, Jaune that she could direct her hatred towards him.

Jaune: Pyrrha... You're angry at me, because, Pyrrha, my partner, killed you. And, because she's is dead, you cannot direct that hatred towards her, so you've been subconsciously directing it towards me. So, the reason you've been forgetting about me... Is because you've been substituting me for, Pyrrha, and you don't remember that you hate, Pyrrha. So you forget me?

Jaune smiled as he came to this stunning realization. It was a mad, and an absolutely bonkers idea. But, the worst part about, Jaune's mad theory was that it made sense, too much sense. And, they all knew that it was exactly what, Penny was subconsciously thinking when she started hiccupping like a storm.

Penny: That's not...! Hiccup! That's...! Hiccup! I don't...! Hiccup! Pyrrha, didn't...! Hiccup! I-I-I-I...! Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!

Ruby: Penny? Penny, Penny, Penny!

Ruby, and Weiss rushed forward and, caught, Penny she was stumbling about in a fit of hiccups.

Weiss: She's having a panic attack!

Jaune: Ren, use your semblance!

Ren: On it!

Ren reached over, and placed his hand on, Penny's shoulder as a black wave flooded over, Penny as he breathing calmed down, and became more steadied. As they were all watching these things, Jaune gave them a look before walking back to the bullhead.

Ruby: J-Jaune?! Where are you going?

Jaune: I'm sorry, but I have a job to do. I don't have the time, or the training to deal with, Penny's hidden trauma. And, since I seem to be part of the cause of her trauma, I think it'd be for the best that I leave.

Jaune walked onto the bullhead and grabbed the handle bars on top.

Jaune: I'll leave this... situation to you. Till later then.

As the bullhead started to lift away, Jaune spared one last glance at the group as they all comforted their friend. Jaune couldn't help but feel envious that they showed such compassion to their friend.

But, it anger him, because they never showed such compassion to him. Never.

~~~

Jaune was walking down the auditorium as civilians walked around resetting things, some stopped him, and thanks them for saving them, Jaune just told them to thinking nothing of it, he was just doing his job.

But, as, Jaune moved closer, he looked up, and saw, Robyn, and some of her fellow, Happy Huntresses upon the stage. When, Robyn saw him, a wide smile erupted across her face as she came down to greet him.

Robyn: Jaune! You're here!

Jaune: Miss Hill, It is a pleasure to see you are doing well.

Jaune held out his hand as, Robyn came closer to him. Robyn looked at his hand for a moment before remembering to adopt her mask as, Ironwood's political enemy, thus, Specialist Jaune Arc's enemy.

A small smile still spread across her face as she shook, Jaune's hand before adopting a neutral mask once more.

Robyn: It is a pleasure to see you as well, Specialist Arc. How are you doing? I heard you were in the hospital for a while dealing with that scorpion faunas's poison.

Robyn knew fully well what happened to him at the hospital. She went there, and kissed... Checked up on him! No doubt this was just all a political game for the audience to enjoy.

Jaune: Luckily I was able to get to the hospital quickly, and was administered antivenom. I was unconscious for about a day as my body fought it, but bar being a little groggy I am fine. I'm on light duty while I fight threw the last of the poison.

Robyn: I see...

Jaune: Tell me, Miss Hill, how are you doing? Dealing with a near death experience from a psychotic faunas who wanted you dead because your platform wasn't pro-faunas enough must have been pretty straining.

Robyn quirked an eye brow at, Jaune's statement. She quickly caught on to the story he was trying to spread so the citizens present could better understand why, Robyn was attacked by, Tyrian Callows.

Robyn: Ahh yes... Well, you try, and give people something to make their lives easier, yet they still want the world...

Jaune: Did you expect someone like the late, Jacques Schnee to be happy with a just one slice of the cake?

Robyn: No he wouldn't. The greedy bastard would want the whole bakery.

The duo of a politician, and a Specialist as well as several of the people surrounding them shared a laugh. There are many things that divided the people of, Atlas, and Mantle, but shitting on, Jacques Schnee was something that would unite them all.

Jaune: Now then, I need to have a word with you, Miss Hill. It has to do with your recent attack. Alone.

Robyn: Very well. Will you come with me?

Jaune: Lead the way, Miss Hill.

~~~

Robyn, had taken, Jaune on a walk to the head quarters of the, Happy Huntresses. Wasn't much of a place really, just a abandoned warehouse with beddings, and what not put into it to make it live able.

Jaune: And, this is your 'secret base?' It's nice... A little spartan for my liking.

Robyn: You don't like it?

Jaune: Nope. It's has about as much life, and personality as your wanted posters do.

Robyn: Wanted posters? HAS, General Ironwood made wanted posters for...?

Jaune: Your political posters.

Robyn: My campaign posters? What are you...?

Robyn turned to look at one of her campaign posters. She gazed at the strong, and proud visage as it presented in her in a...

Robyn: Oh shit... It does look like a wanted poster...

Robyn's body slumped over as she realized the blunder she had just made. Jaune walked by her, patting her should in a comforting gesture.

Jaune: Don't worry, you're worth at least, ten thousand lien.

Robyn: T-Ten thousand?! I'm at least worth fifteen thousand!

Jaune: Yeah, keep dreaming big, Robyn. Keep dreaming.

Robyn: Ass...

Jaune: Haha.

Jaune then walked past, Robyn as he rubbed his head with his hand letting loose a tired, and pained groan.

Robyn: Are you okay?

Robyn walked over to, Jaune, and place her hand on his shoulder.

Jaune: I'm fine... just a little dizzy. Poison is still being purged from my system.

Jaune shook his head as a deep breath left his lungs.

Jaune: Okay, let's get down to business...

Jaune: Your would be assassin, as I mentioned before, his name was, Tyrian Callows. He was sent here to kill you in order to destabilize the relationship between, Atlas, and Mantle.

Robyn: I suppose that line about me not being pro-faunas enough for his liking was for the common folk?

Jaune: A lie yes, but a believable one nonetheless. The White Fang may have been weakened in the rest of, Remnant, but based on the reports I've read there is still a sizeable force here in, Mantle.

Robyn: Really? I thought after what happened at, Beacon, and at Haven Academy they would have been disbanded.

Jaune: Technically they did, that is if you can call a rebranding a disbanding.

Robyn: They rebranded?

Jaune: Yep, the Atlas faction of the, White Fang is now calling themselves the, Ice Fangs.

Robyn: Ice Fang? Not a bad name...

Jaune: Better than the 'Happy Huntresses.' Who came up with that dumb name?

Robyn: Hey!

Robyn lightly punched, Jaune's arm as he laughed at her expense. The smile on her face was radiant as she laughed with him. But, her smile slowly fell as serious face crossed her face.

Robyn: Will he be the last, or the first among many that seeks to take my life?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: It's hard to tell... They might come after you again, so I suggest you keep your guard up. But, they might not come after you; General Ironwood is their main target, there's no doubt about that. Tyrian may have just been exploring, Mantle, learned that you were holding a rally, and that you happened to be there. You could have just been nothing more than a target of opportunity.

Robyn: That's somewhat comforting...

Robyn: You promise you'll save me, from these... shadows in the dark?

Jaune: I swore that I would, Robyn. Arc's don't break their word.

Robyn walked over to, Jaune and gently grabbed his collar as she looked at him.

Robyn: You know... It really is nice to have a knight in shinning armour watching over me...

As she was playing with his collar, she noticed he was wearing the badge she gave him.

Robyn: You're wearing the badge I gave you! It's crooked, may I...?

Jaune: Go ahead. I just put it on today. I think it got moved around when, Winter interrogated me about it.

Robyn froze as she was readjusting the badge.

Robyn: She did what...?

Jaune: Yeah, she saw it, and I explained it how I got it, and why I called it a token of affection, she lost it when I said that...

Robyn: Lost it...?

Jaune: Yeah. She gave me this sash when I join the, Specialist as a present. Then after she learned about the badge you gave me being a token of affection, me being a knight and all of that. She decided that this sash was her token of affection, to her knight. It was really scary actually...

Robyn: A token of affection...? Winter's token of affection... for you...?

Jaune: Yeah... her token of affection for her knight. That's what she said.

Robyn: 'Her' knight...? Jaune...?

Jaune: Y-Yes, Robyn...?

Jaune felt a chill run up his spine, a chill that only intensified as she stared at him with those cool lilac eyes of hers. She gripped the collars of his coat in her hands as she gave him a cold smile.

Robyn: Jaune~! Please tell me what your relationship with, Winter Schnee is~?

Jaune: S-S-She's my superior officer! Nothing more!

Robyn: It's red!

Jaune: What?! You're using your semblance on me, not cool, Robyn!

Robyn: Tell me the truth, Jaune!

Jaune: Okay okay okay! I have a crush on her, she somehow has a crush on me of all people! She's given me a token of affection! That's it!

Robyn: Its red again!

Jaune: Okay, okay! We've kissed, that's it!

Robyn: When did you two kiss?!

Jaune: At the hospital! B-Before you kissed me!

Robyn: What?! She kissed you before me, dammit! Alright then, Jaune... you tell, Specialist Winter Schnee this! We are at war!

Jaune: War? What are you talking abou... MMPH?!

Robyn pulled, Jaune in by the collar for a hungry, and thirsty kiss. As the kiss ended, she bit his lips, dragging her teeth across his lips as she pulled away, as she let out a deep, hungry gasp of air, as she stared at him with hearts in her eyes.

Robyn: We're at war, for you~!

Jaune: F-F-For me...?!

Robyn: For you~!

Jaune: Uh oh...

~~~

Jaune entered the locker room for the, Specialist. He hadn't done much today, mostly talking with people, but good gods he felt exhausted.

As he entered the room, he saw, Winter at her locker. She turned, and smile when she heard him enter.

Jaune: Hey, Winter.

Winter: Oh, hello... Jaune...?

Jaune: Something wrong, Winter?

Winter walked over to, Jaune grabbing his cheeks as she looked at his face.

Winter: Is that lipstick on your face?

Jaune: Oh shit! I forgot to... Ahhh?!

Winter fiercely grabbed, Jaune by his collar, a common theme of the day so it seemed.

Winter: Who kissed you?!

Considering this was the third time he had been roughly grabbed by his collars by a feisty. Huntress, Jaune decided it was best to just answer her, less he gets killed, but a jealous woman.

Jaune: Robyn, Robyn Hill did it! S-She likes me, just like you do!

Winter: SHE WHAT?!

Jaune: A-And, she kissed me as her declaration of war to you!

Winter: A declaration of war? For what?

Jaune: M-Me...

Winter: Okay... then the next time you see her, Jaune, tell her this!

Jaune: Tell her wha... MPHH?!

For the second time today, Jaune had been pulled in by the collar for a fierce kiss. Instead of teeth biting his lips, Jaune felt, Winter's tongue invade his mouth leaving a trail of saliva as she broke the kiss.

Winter: I accept~!

Winter lightly tapped his cheeks as she left, leaving a stunned, and very confused, Jaune behind. He panted heavily as he whipped his lips clean of the make up, and saliva from, Winter's tongue. With nothing but, one thought upon his mind.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Well, I'm fucked...

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: kissing, fake dating, very long.)

Katie McCabe x Reader:

Title: New Flame

- It’s a gray Thursday afternoon, and the café is unusually quiet. Your favorite table by the window is free, so you settle in, grateful for the peaceful atmosphere. A steaming cup of tea sits beside your open notebook as you jot down thoughts about the book you’re reading, the bustle of the world outside fading into the background.

You’ve always loved this place—the way the soft hum of conversation blends with the hiss of the espresso machine, the faint scent of cinnamon that lingers in the air. It’s your sanctuary, the one place where you can exist undisturbed.

That’s why you barely glance up when the door swings open, and a sharp gust of wind accompanies a new customer inside. But then you hear her.

“Christ, it’s freezing out there. Do you not believe in heating, or what?”

The voice is loud, distinct, and unmistakably Irish. You glance up, and your heart stutters for a beat.

Katie McCabe.

Even if you weren’t a football fan—and you’re not, really—you’d recognize her anywhere. Her image is everywhere: Arsenal star, Ireland’s national treasure, and a lightning rod for attention both on and off the pitch. With her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail and her piercing green eyes scanning the room, she commands attention effortlessly.

You quickly look back down at your notebook, praying she won’t notice you.

Fate, of course, has other plans.

“Hey, you.”

The words are casual but direct, cutting through the quiet hum of the café. You don’t realize she’s speaking to you until her shadow falls over your table.

You glance up, bewildered. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Katie grins, and it’s the kind of grin that suggests she’s up to something. “Mind if I sit?”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulls out the chair across from you and drops into it, looking entirely at ease.

You blink at her, thoroughly confused. “Um… can I help you?”

“Actually, yeah.” She leans forward, propping her elbows on the table. “I’ve got a bit of a situation, and I think you might be able to help me out.”

You stare at her, still trying to process the fact that Katie McCabe, of all people, is sitting at your table, acting like you’re old friends. “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

She tilts her head, studying you with an intensity that makes you squirm. “Nah, I don’t think so. You’re perfect.”

“For what?”

Katie sits back, crossing her arms and smirking like she’s about to deliver the punchline of a joke. “To be my girlfriend.”

- For a long moment, all you can do is stare at her. “I’m sorry… what?”

“My girlfriend,” she repeats, as if this is the most logical thing in the world. “Well, fake girlfriend. Just for a bit.”

You laugh, certain you’ve misheard her. “Okay, seriously—what is this about? Did someone put you up to this?”

Katie sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I know it sounds mad, but hear me out. There’s this charity gala next weekend, and my ex is going to be there. With her new girlfriend. Who just so happens to play for Chelsea.”

“And…?” you prompt, still thoroughly confused.

“And I can’t show up alone,” Katie says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how smug they’ll be? No way I’m letting them get one over on me.”

You shake your head, still struggling to wrap your mind around what’s happening. “So your solution is to drag a random stranger into this?”

“Not random,” Katie says, her grin returning. “I’ve seen you in here before. You seem… normal. Quiet. Not the type to run to the tabloids.”

“That’s your criteria? Normal and quiet?”

She shrugs. “Also, you’re cute. That helps.”

Your face heats at the casual compliment, but you refuse to let her distract you. “Katie, I don’t even know you.”

“And I don’t know you,” she counters. “That’s the beauty of it. No one will suspect a thing.”

You stare at her, incredulous. “This is insane.”

“Probably,” she admits. “But I’m desperate. Come on, it’s just one night. I’ll pay you if you want. Whatever it takes.”

Her green eyes are locked on yours, and for a moment, you see a flicker of vulnerability beneath her confident exterior. She really does seem desperate.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “This is ridiculous. Why me?”

“Because I’m out of options,” Katie says simply. “And you… you seem like someone I can trust.”

The weight of her words surprises you. Against your better judgment, you find yourself considering her proposal.

“One night?” you ask cautiously.

Katie nods. “One night. That’s it. And I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You hesitate, every instinct telling you to say no. But there’s something about the way she’s looking at you—something earnest and almost endearing—that makes you pause.

“Fine,” you say finally. “But we need rules.”

Katie grins, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied expression. “Rules. Got it. Lay ’em on me.”

Katie’s grin widens as if she’s just scored the winning goal in a cup final. You, on the other hand, feel the weight of your decision settle in—a strange mix of regret and curiosity.

You take a steadying breath and look her in the eye. “First of all, this isn’t a free-for-all. There have to be rules.”

“Fair enough,” Katie says, leaning forward, her chin resting on her hand. “Go on, then. What are the rules?”

You tap your pen against your notebook, thinking. “Rule one: no surprises. If we’re going to do this, I need to know everything beforehand—where we’re going, who’ll be there, what we’re supposed to do. No springing things on me last minute.”

Katie raises an eyebrow but nods. “Fine. No surprises. What else?”

“Rule two: no physical affection unless absolutely necessary.”

Her grin turns mischievous. “Define ‘necessary.’”

You glare at her. “You know what I mean. No kissing, no hand-holding, nothing unless it’s to keep up the act.”

Katie laughs, clearly amused by your flustered tone. “Alright, alright. No unnecessary touching. Got it. Anything else?”

“Rule three…” You pause, unsure how to phrase it. “We keep it professional. No personal stuff. This is a one-time thing, and I don’t want it complicating my life.”

For a moment, Katie’s expression softens. She studies you with a curious tilt of her head, as though trying to figure out what kind of person would say yes to this ridiculous plan. Then she nods.

“Deal,” she says. “Three rules. No surprises, no touching, no personal stuff. Easy.”

You fold your arms. “Good. Now it’s your turn to tell me why this is so important. I need to know what I’m walking into.”

Katie sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Alright, here’s the short version. The gala is a big deal in the football world—sponsors, press, all that. My ex, Ruesha, will be there with her new girlfriend, Louise. Louise and I… let’s just say we don’t get along.”

Your eyebrows lift. “So this is about showing up your ex and her new partner?”

“Not exactly,” Katie says, shifting in her seat. “It’s about showing that I’m fine. That I’ve moved on. That I’m not the same hotheaded, impulsive idiot Charlotte broke up with.”

There’s something raw in her voice, a vulnerability she tries to mask with her usual bravado. It’s the first time you’ve seen a crack in her confident façade.

“Alright,” you say softly. “I get it. But if I’m doing this, you need to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“No games. No trying to use me to make anyone jealous or prove a point. If we’re doing this, it’s strictly for appearances.”

Katie meets your gaze, and for a moment, the playful spark in her eyes fades. She nods, her tone serious. “I promise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Okay. So… what happens now?”

Katie’s grin returns, this time with a hint of relief. “Now? We prep. I’ll text you the details, and we’ll work out a plan. Don’t worry—I’ll make this as painless as possible.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you mutter.

Katie laughs as she stands, tossing a few bills onto the table. “Thanks for this. You’re saving my ass, you know.”

Before you can respond, she’s out the door, leaving you with a sinking feeling that your quiet life is about to get a lot more complicated.

- Over the next few days, Katie is true to her word-mostly. She texts you the details of the gala: date, time, dress code, and a brief rundown of the attendees. What she doesn’t do, however, is give you much space to breathe.

Her texts are relentless, filled with questions about your life (“What do you do for fun? Need to make our story believable”), comments on your style (“Do you even own anything fancy?”), and more than a few unsolicited jokes.

Katie: Are you sure you’re not a Chelsea fan in disguise?

You: I don’t even watch football.

Katie: Good. Can’t trust a Chelsea fan.

By the time the day of the gala arrives, you’ve exchanged so many messages with her that you feel like you know her—or at least the larger-than-life version she projects.

That’s how you find yourself standing outside the boutique Katie insisted on meeting you at, clutching your coat and wondering how on earth you got here.

The door swings open, and Katie steps out, her sharp features lighting up when she spots you.

“There you are,” she says, striding toward you. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

“Work?” you echo, following her inside.

She smirks. “You didn’t think I’d let you show up in jeans and a hoodie, did you?”

Inside, the boutique is all sleek lines and shimmering fabrics, a world away from your usual haunts. Katie gestures to a rack of gowns with a dramatic flourish.

“Pick something,” she says. “And don’t worry—I’m paying.”

You hesitate, glancing at the price tags. “Katie, this is too much—”

“Trust me, it’s not,” she interrupts. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

Her confidence is infectious, and despite your protests, you let her help you choose an outfit. It’s strange, seeing this side of her—playful, encouraging, almost charming.

By the time you’re dressed and ready, you catch Katie staring at you in the mirror.

“What?” you ask, self-conscious.

She grins, her voice softer than usual. “You look perfect.”

- The car ride to the gala is quieter than you expected. Katie sits beside you, fidgeting with the cuffs of her tailored suit, her usual bravado noticeably muted. You glance at her, trying to decide if this is the same Katie McCabe who confidently strolled into your life days ago and turned it upside down.

“You alright?” you ask, breaking the silence.

She looks at you, startled, before forcing a smirk. “Me? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re fidgeting,” you point out.

Katie immediately stills, shoving her hands into her lap. “I’m not fidgeting. Just… warming up, you know? Big game mentality.”

You snort. “This isn’t a game.”

“Isn’t it, though?” she says, her grin returning. “It’s all about strategy. Confidence. Timing. Same rules apply.”

You shake your head, but her words stick with you. As the car pulls up to the venue—a sprawling estate lit up like something out of a fairy tale—you suddenly feel the weight of what you’ve agreed to.

The driver opens the door, and Katie steps out first, extending a hand to you. For a moment, you hesitate. Then you take it, her grip steadying you as you step onto the red carpet.

“Ready?” she murmurs, her voice low enough that only you can hear.

“No,” you admit, your heart racing as cameras flash in the distance.

Katie squeezes your hand, her smirk softening into something more reassuring. “Don’t worry. Just stick with me.”

The ballroom is even more intimidating than the exterior. Chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over a sea of impeccably dressed guests, their laughter and conversation blending into a hum of sophistication. Katie leads you through the crowd with the ease of someone who belongs, her hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

You catch a few people staring—some curious, others outright surprised. It doesn’t take long for someone to approach.

“Katie!”

A tall woman in a sleek black dress strides over, her smile polished and sharp. You don’t need to be told who she is; the tension in Katie’s shoulders gives it away.

“Ruesha,” Katie says, her tone neutral but her smile strained.

The woman’s gaze flicks to you, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “And who’s this?”

Before you can respond, Katie slips an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “This is my girlfriend,” she says smoothly. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. Isn’t that right, love?”

The word catches you off guard, but you recover quickly, nodding. “That’s right.”

Ruesha’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of something—annoyance, maybe?—in her eyes. “How… lovely. I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

Katie shrugs, her expression deceptively casual. “I like to keep my private life private these days.”

Before Rushea can respond, another voice cuts in.

“Ruesha aren’t you going to introduce us?”

You turn to see a strikingly beautiful woman join the group. She’s tall and athletic, her confident demeanor radiating the same energy as Katie’s—but colder, more calculating. Louise, you realize.

“Louise, this is Katie and…” Ruesha hesitates, clearly having forgotten your name.

“Y/N,” Katie supplies smoothly, her arm tightening around you.

“Y/N,” Ruesha repeats, her tone almost apologetic. “This is Louise.”

Louise extends a hand, her smile as sharp as the rest of her. “Pleasure to meet you.”

You shake her hand, acutely aware of the tension crackling between her and Katie. “Likewise.”

“So,” Louise says, turning to Katie. “Didn’t think I’d see you here. You always hated these events.”

Katie’s smile doesn’t waver. “Things change.”

The conversation feels like a battlefield, every word carefully chosen and loaded with subtext. You do your best to play along, nodding and smiling in the right places, but it’s clear that Katie is the one holding the line.

Finally, Ruesha and Louise excuse themselves, leaving you and Katie alone again.

“Well,” you say, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “That was… intense.”

Katie laughs, but it’s more bitter than amused. “Welcome to my world.”

- The rest of the evening passes in a blur of introductions and polite conversation. Katie is charming and confident, slipping effortlessly into her role as the doting girlfriend. You find yourself admiring how natural she makes it seem—like this really is her world, and you’re just lucky to be part of it.

But as the night wears on, you notice the cracks. The way her smile falters when she thinks no one is looking. The way her hand grips her glass a little too tightly whenever Charlotte or Louise is nearby.

It’s not until much later, when the crowd begins to thin and the band starts playing slower songs, that Katie finally lets her guard down.

“Come on,” she says, tugging you toward the dance floor.

You hesitate. “Katie, I don’t dance—”

“Neither do I,” she says, cutting you off. “But we’ve got appearances to keep up, remember?”

Before you can argue, she pulls you into her arms, her hands settling lightly on your waist. You place your hands on her shoulders, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat as she pulls you closer.

The music is soft and slow, the kind of song that leaves no room for distance. You glance up at her, surprised to find her looking back at you with an expression you can’t quite read.

“You’re good at this,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Katie chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Fake it till you make it, right?”

You tilt your head, studying her. “Is that what you’re doing? Faking it?”

For a moment, she doesn’t answer. Then she looks away, her jaw tightening. “What else is there?”

Her words catch you off guard, the vulnerability in them cutting through the practiced confidence she wears like armor. Before you can respond, she shakes her head and forces a smile.

“Forget it,” she says. “Let’s just get through tonight.”

But as the song ends and the crowd applauds, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Katie McCabe than meets the eye—and that maybe, just maybe, this fake relationship isn’t as simple as you thought.

- The car ride back is a stark contrast to the ride there. Katie is quiet, staring out the window with her hands clasped in her lap. You sit beside her, the weight of the evening pressing down on you like a heavy coat.

It’s not until you’re halfway back to your apartment that she finally speaks.

“Thanks for tonight,” she says, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You glance at her, surprised. “You’re welcome.”

Katie doesn’t elaborate, and the silence stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and questions you’re too afraid to ask.

When the car pulls up to your building, she steps out first, holding the door for you. You hesitate on the sidewalk, unsure what to say.

“So… I guess that’s it?” you ask, your voice uncertain.

Katie looks at you, her expression unreadable. For a moment, you think she’s going to say something important. Then she flashes you one of her signature grins, the kind that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah. That’s it.”

You nod, feeling a strange pang of disappointment as you turn to go.

“Y/N.”

Her voice stops you in your tracks. You turn back to see her standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.

“If you ever need a favor… or just want to grab a coffee or something… you know where to find me.”

You blink at her, surprised. “Are you asking to be friends?”

Katie laughs, the sound lighter this time. “Maybe. Is that so bad?”

You smile despite yourself. “No, it’s not bad. I’ll think about it.”

She grins. “Fair enough. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Katie.”

You don’t expect to hear from Katie again, but a few days later, your phone buzzes with a text.

Katie: How’s the quiet life? Miss me yet?

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling.

You: Hardly. I’m enjoying the peace, thanks.

Katie: Liar. Meet me at the café later. My treat.

Against your better judgment, you agree.

When you walk into the café, Katie is already there, leaning back in her chair with a cup of coffee in hand. She looks up when you approach, her grin widening.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hey,” you say, sliding into the seat across from her. “What’s this about?”

She shrugs. “Just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re not scarred for life after the gala.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I survived. Barely.”

Katie smirks. “You did great, by the way. Couldn’t have pulled it off without you.”

“Glad I could help,” you say, sipping your tea. “But seriously, why are you here? I thought this was a one-time thing.”

Katie hesitates, her grin faltering. “I don’t know. Guess I just… liked hanging out with you.”

Her admission catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond.

“Well,” you say finally, “I liked hanging out with you too. Even if you did drag me into your ridiculous plan.”

Katie laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah, sorry about that. But admit it—it wasn’t all bad.”

You smile. “No, it wasn’t.”

For the next hour, the two of you talk like old friends, the conversation flowing easily despite your differences. You’re surprised by how comfortable you feel around her, how quickly the walls you’ve built start to crumble.

When you finally leave the café, you realize something strange: you’re actually looking forward to seeing her again.

- Over the next few weeks, your life begins to shift in ways you never expected. Katie texts you almost daily, her messages ranging from sarcastic quips to genuine questions about your day. She invites you to watch her matches, introduces you to her teammates, and even convinces you to kick a ball around with her at the park one evening.

At first, you tell yourself it’s just friendship. But as the days turn into weeks, you can’t ignore the growing tension between you—the way her smile lingers a little too long, the way your heart skips a beat whenever she leans in close.

You remind yourself of the rules you set, the lines you swore you wouldn’t cross. But Katie McCabe has a way of breaking down barriers, and no matter how hard you try to resist, you find yourself drawn to her.

One evening, after a particularly close Arsenal match, she shows up at your door, a six-pack of beer in hand.

“Thought you might want to celebrate,” she says, her grin mischievous.

“You won,” you point out, stepping aside to let her in.

“Exactly,” she says, plopping down on your couch like she’s been there a hundred times before.

As the night wears on, the conversation grows deeper, the playful banter giving way to something more serious.

“You’re different, you know,” Katie says suddenly, her gaze fixed on you.

You blink at her, surprised. “Different how?”

She shrugs, her expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Just… different. In a good way.”

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you can’t find the words to respond.

“Katie…” you start, but she cuts you off, her grin returning.

“Don’t worry,” she says, raising her beer in a mock toast. “I’m not about to confess my undying love or anything. Just… wanted you to know.”

You laugh, but her words stick with you long after she leaves.

- It happens on a quiet night, one of those evenings where neither of you plans anything but somehow end up together anyway. Katie shows up unannounced—again—this time with a pizza and a bottle of wine.

“Figured you wouldn’t say no to free food,” she says with her trademark grin, already letting herself in.

You roll your eyes but don’t stop her. “Do you ever ask before barging into people’s lives?”

“Not when I know the answer’s yes,” she quips, plopping onto your couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table.

You sit beside her, the familiar routine settling in as you eat, drink, and talk. The conversation flows effortlessly, jumping from football to books to the absurdity of life.

Somewhere between the second slice of pizza and the third glass of wine, the mood shifts. The laughter fades into a comfortable silence, and you realize just how close you’re sitting—your legs brushing, your shoulders almost touching.

Katie turns to you, her expression softer than usual. “You know,” she says, her voice low, “this is nice.”

“What is?” you ask, your pulse quickening.

“This.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you. “Hanging out. Not pretending, not putting on a show. Just… being.”

You swallow hard, her words stirring something deep inside you. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “It is.”

For a moment, neither of you moves. The air feels charged, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. Then, without thinking, you speak.

“Katie, why did you really ask me to do this? The gala, the fake dating—why me?”

She hesitates, her eyes searching yours. “Because you’re different,” she says finally. “You’re honest. You don’t care about the football, or the fame, or any of the other crap people usually care about. You see me. Just me.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning in.

So is she.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as though both of you are afraid to break the spell. Then Katie’s hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and the world tilts on its axis.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours.

“Wow,” she murmurs, her lips quirking into a small, stunned smile.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your mind racing.

Katie pulls back slightly, her expression turning serious. “Are you okay?”

You nod, your fingers still clutching the front of her shirt. “I think so. Are you?”

She chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Better than okay.”

The warmth in her gaze sends your heart into overdrive, but reality crashes down a moment later.

“Katie,” you say hesitantly, “this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Her smile falters, but she doesn’t let go. “I know. But…” She pauses, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What if it’s supposed to?”

- After that night, everything changes.

Katie doesn’t pull away. If anything, she becomes even more present in your life—texting you good morning, showing up at your place unannounced, dragging you out to watch sunsets or explore the city.

You try to resist, to remind yourself that this was never meant to be real. But the lines have blurred so completely that you don’t know where the act ends and the truth begins.

And the truth is, you’re falling for her.

It’s in the little things—how she remembers your favorite coffee order, how she always makes you laugh when you’re having a bad day, how she looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.

But it’s also in the bigger moments. Like the time she invites you to a team dinner and introduces you to her teammates as “my person.” Or the night she tells you about her childhood, her struggles, her fears—the parts of herself she keeps hidden from the world.

Every day, you fall a little harder. And every day, you wonder how long this can last before it all comes crashing down.

- It happens during another gala, this time for a charity event. Katie insists on bringing you again, despite your protests.

“You’re my lucky charm,” she says with a grin, her hand warm against yours.

The evening is perfect—until you see Charlotte and Louise across the room.

Katie stiffens beside you, her smile tightening. “Great,” she mutters. “Here we go again.”

You squeeze her hand. “Ignore them. You don’t need to prove anything to her—or anyone else.”

She looks at you, her eyes softening. “Thanks, love.”

The word sends a jolt through you, and you realize with startling clarity that you want her to mean it.

As the night goes on, you find yourself watching her, captivated by the way she moves through the crowd with effortless charm. You can’t help but wonder if she feels the same way—if this has become real for her too.

When the event ends and you’re back in the car, Katie turns to you, her expression uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Y/N,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to know… is this still just pretend for you?”

Your breath catches, her question hanging in the air like a challenge.

“No,” you admit, your voice trembling. “It hasn’t been for a while.”

Relief floods her features, and she reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours.

“Good,” she says softly. “Because it’s not pretend for me either.”

- The shift in your relationship is subtle at first, like the first hints of spring after a long winter. Katie still texts you incessantly, still shows up at your door unannounced, but now there’s a softness to her—a quiet vulnerability that wasn’t there before.

You’re hesitant to define what’s happening between you, afraid that putting a label on it will ruin the fragile thing you’ve built. But Katie seems unbothered by the ambiguity.

One evening, as you’re sprawled out on your couch, her head resting in your lap while some random movie plays in the background, she looks up at you and says, “You overthink too much, you know that?”

You pause mid-stroke, your fingers tangled in her hair. “I do not.”

Katie raises an eyebrow, her smirk playful. “You do. I can practically see the gears turning.”

You sigh, your hand dropping to your side. “Can you blame me? This… whatever this is—it’s complicated.”

Katie sits up, her expression serious now. “It doesn’t have to be.”

You stare at her, your heart pounding. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I like you, Y/N. More than like you. And I think you feel the same way. So why are we making it harder than it needs to be?”

Her words hit you like a freight train, the raw honesty in her gaze leaving you breathless.

“I…” You hesitate, the weight of your emotions threatening to crush you. “I do feel the same way. But what if this doesn’t work out? What if—”

Katie cuts you off with a kiss, her hands framing your face as she pulls you in. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed, but there’s something different about this one—something that feels permanent, like a promise.

When she pulls away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “Stop overthinking,” she murmurs. “Just be with me.”

And for the first time, you let yourself believe that it might be that simple.

- The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Katie is unapologetically affectionate, holding your hand in public, kissing your cheek when she thinks no one is looking, and calling you “love” in a way that makes your heart skip a beat every time.

Her teammates notice the change immediately.

“Well, look who’s gone soft,” one of them teases during a team dinner, nudging Katie with a grin.

Katie doesn’t even try to deny it. “What can I say? I’ve got good taste.”

You laugh, your cheeks burning as you try to wave off the attention. But secretly, you love it—the way she’s so unabashedly proud to be with you.

Of course, not everything is perfect. The press catches wind of your relationship, and suddenly, your private life is splashed across tabloids and gossip columns.

“Katie McCabe’s New Flame: Who Is She?”

You try not to let it get to you, but the constant scrutiny is overwhelming. Katie does her best to shield you from it, but even she can’t control the media.

One night, after yet another article speculating about your relationship, you finally snap.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” you say, pacing your living room while Katie watches from the couch. “I didn’t ask to have my life dissected by strangers.”

“I know,” Katie says quietly. “And I’m sorry. I wish I could make it go away.”

You stop, turning to face her. “Why does it matter so much to them? Why can’t we just be normal?”

Katie stands, crossing the room to take your hands in hers. “Because nothing about us is normal, Y/N. And that’s okay. I don’t care what they say or what they think. All I care about is you.”

Her words are a balm to your frayed nerves, and you let her pull you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you like a shield.

“I’m scared, Katie,” you admit, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

“I know,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

- The first real test of your relationship comes when Katie’s team suffers a devastating loss in a high-stakes match.

She shuts down completely, her usual confidence replaced by a storm of frustration and self-doubt. She doesn’t text, doesn’t call, and when you show up at her apartment unannounced, she barely even looks at you.

“Katie,” you say gently, sitting beside her on the couch. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she mutters, staring at the TV.

You reach for her hand, but she pulls away, her jaw tight. “I just need to be alone right now.”

The words sting, but you nod, standing to leave. “Okay. But I’m here when you’re ready.”

It’s two days before she finally calls.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice heavy with guilt. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

“It’s okay,” you say, relief flooding through you. “But you don’t have to go through this alone, Katie. Let me be there for you.”

She’s quiet for a moment before she whispers, “I’m not used to letting people in.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you let me in once. You can do it again.”

Her silence speaks volumes, and when she finally comes over that evening, she doesn’t say much. But she doesn’t need to. The way she holds you, the way she looks at you—it’s enough.

- The days after Katie’s apology are marked by a cautious rhythm. You both fall back into your routines, but there’s a new layer to your relationship—one that’s fragile and demands more care.

Katie starts opening up in small ways. She shares little details about her day, mentions how her coach has been riding the team harder since the loss, and admits how the pressure is starting to feel unbearable.

“I hate losing,” she confesses one night as you sit on the floor of your living room, sharing a bottle of wine. “But what I hate even more is letting people down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” you say firmly, reaching for her hand. “Football is a team sport. It’s not all on you.”

Katie looks at you, her eyes filled with something raw and unspoken. “It feels like it is sometimes.”

You squeeze her hand. “You’re not alone in this. You’ve got your team, your family… and you’ve got me.”

Her lips quirk into a small, grateful smile, and she leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

- As Katie’s team prepares for another high-profile match, the media frenzy around your relationship intensifies. Paparazzi follow you to the grocery store, articles dissect every outing, and social media buzzes with speculation.

Katie brushes it off, but you can see the toll it’s taking on her.

“It’s just noise,” she says one evening as you scroll through another invasive article. “They’ll move on eventually.”

But you’re not so sure. Your personal life is now public property, and the constant attention makes you feel exposed in ways you never expected.

The breaking point comes when a particularly nasty headline accuses you of being a distraction to Katie’s career.

“She’s better off without her,” the article declares, accompanied by a photo of the two of you walking hand in hand.

Katie finds you staring at the article, your face pale.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her tone laced with concern.

You shove your phone toward her, your voice trembling. “This. They’re saying I’m ruining your career.”

Katie skims the article, her jaw tightening. “This is bullshit,” she says sharply. “You’re not ruining anything. If anything, you’re the reason I’m still sane.”

“But what if they’re right?” you whisper. “What if I’m hurting you without even realizing it?”

Katie sets the phone down and takes your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. “Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t let them get in your head. You’re not a distraction—you’re my anchor. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Her words bring tears to your eyes, and you nod, letting her pull you into a tight hug.

- In the weeks that follow, you and Katie work to establish a new normal. She arranges for better security to protect your privacy, and you agree to limit your public appearances together to avoid fueling the media fire.

But behind closed doors, your relationship thrives.

Katie starts taking you to her matches, sneaking you into the players’ section so you can cheer her on without drawing attention. You learn the ins and outs of football, surprising even yourself with how invested you become.

And in return, Katie makes an effort to understand your world. She reads your favorite books, asks questions about your work, and even tries her hand at cooking one night—though the results are disastrous.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you tease as you survey the charred remains of what was supposed to be dinner.

Katie groans, burying her face in her hands. “Remind me never to set foot in a kitchen again.”

You laugh, pulling her into a hug. “Deal. But you’re doing the dishes.”

- The turning point in your relationship comes during Katie’s next big match—a game that could make or break her team’s season.

You sit in the stands, your heart pounding as you watch her on the field. She’s a force of nature, her every move calculated and precise. But as the game drags on, the opposing team scores, and you see the frustration etched across her face.

When the final whistle blows, Katie’s team has lost, and the stadium is heavy with disappointment. You make your way to the locker rooms, unsure if she’ll even want to see you.

But when she emerges, her expression tired but determined, she spots you immediately.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft.

“Hey,” you reply, stepping closer. “You played great.”

She shakes her head. “Not good enough.”

You hesitate, then reach for her hand. “Katie, you’re allowed to be upset. But don’t forget how much you’ve already accomplished. You’re incredible, and one match doesn’t change that.”

Her eyes soften, and she pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “Thanks, love,” she murmurs. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back, meaning every word.

- The loss is a blow to Katie’s confidence, but it also sparks something in her—a determination to prove herself. She throws herself into training, spending extra hours on the field and analyzing game footage late into the night.

At first, you worry she’s pushing herself too hard, but she reassures you.

“I need this,” she says one evening, her voice steady. “I need to know I gave it everything.”

You support her in every way you can, packing her lunches, sneaking notes of encouragement into her bag, and even attending more matches despite the paparazzi. Slowly, the cracks in her confidence begin to mend.

Katie’s hard work pays off in her next match, where she dominates the field and leads her team to a decisive victory. The stadium erupts in cheers, and you can’t help but feel a surge of pride as she looks up at you in the stands, a triumphant grin on her face.

Afterward, she finds you waiting for her outside the locker room. Before you can say a word, she sweeps you into her arms, spinning you around.

“You’re amazing,” you say breathlessly, laughing as she sets you down.

Katie smirks. “I know. But hearing it from you makes it better.”

- As Katie’s career continues to soar, so does the scrutiny around your relationship. But instead of letting it break you, you and Katie learn to face it together.

You stop reading the tabloids, and Katie makes a point to shield you from the worst of it. “It’s just noise,” she reminds you. “What matters is us.”

And she proves it every day. Whether it’s through small gestures—like leaving flowers on your desk—or grand declarations, like when she dedicates a game-winning goal to you, Katie makes it clear that you’re her priority.

One evening, as you sit on the balcony of her apartment, watching the city lights twinkle below, she turns to you with a serious expression.

“Y/N,” she begins, her voice uncharacteristically nervous, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “No. But I want you to know that I’m all in. Whatever happens—whether I win or lose, whether the media loves or hates us—I’m not going anywhere. And I hope you feel the same.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you nod. “Of course I do. You’re stuck with me, Katie McCabe.”

“Good,” she says, her grin returning. “Because I wasn’t giving you a choice.”

- The years that follow are a mix of highs and lows, victories and setbacks, but through it all, your love for each other only grows stronger.

Katie continues to dominate on the field, earning accolades and respect from fans and teammates alike. And you carve out a life for yourself that feels fulfilling and balanced, even amidst the chaos of being with someone in the spotlight.

There are challenges, of course. Arguments over schedules, moments of doubt, and the occasional media frenzy. But you learn to navigate them together, always coming back to the foundation of trust and love you’ve built.

One evening, as you sit together on your couch, Katie leans over and kisses your temple.

“You know,” she says softly, “I never thought I’d find someone like you.”

You smile, resting your head on her shoulder. “Someone who puts up with your terrible cooking and late-night football rants?”

She laughs, her arm wrapping around you. “No. Someone who makes me better. Someone who makes all of this—everything—worth it.”

Tears prick your eyes as you look up at her. “I feel the same way.”

And in that moment, you know that whatever the future holds, you’ll face it together.

Because love, real love, isn’t about perfection. It’s about finding someone who makes the imperfections worthwhile. And with Katie, you’ve found exactly that.

(Woah, this was a long one.)

[negrowhat]

Fave Love Scenes of 2024

Still working on the handful of end of year prompts @babyangelsky 's 2024 wrap up. I have one more to do after this one! It's been fun and the more I do these wrap ups the more I see that I really, really didn't watch as many series this year as I thought I did and quite a few didn't keep my attention after they ended the way I thought they would. My attention span is already short and I found it challenging to recall some of these from my challenged memory.

AlanJeff's Final Love Scene from Pit Babe. Oh it left me OBSESSED! It's highkey the scene that turned me into a full-on AlanJeff girlie. It was gentle and passionate and slow and a bit lazy; very in the moment since Alan had just woken up. Loved when Jeff kissed Alan's forehead while Alan kissed his chest. Loved the close-up of their faces pressed together, they looked like a painting. It was a perfect love scene. I need AlanJeff back ASAP.

PhayaTharn Special Ep Love Scene from The Sign. I was going to say the pink scene (lordt knows I love it)...but I feel like we never talked enough about the one from the special ep and I'm sure it's because of how late the special ep was released internationally. Anyways Tharn really thought he was about to leave that bedroom un-fucked on Phaya's watch??? Naw. Hell Naw! He really had that man up against the door. And of course Tharn likes it because he's dreamt about Phaya pressing him up against hard surfaces. And choking, Tharn has dreamt about that too and Phaya knows what his man likes. Tharn looks so pretty even though it's clear he's a bit annoyed I'm sure he enjoyed the dickdown first thing in the AM. BillyBabe are gorgeous together.

Go Young and Young Su Makeup Sex from Love in the Big City. It's toxic. It's hott. It's relatable. It's well shot and well executed. Absolutely love how feral they became in that scene. Big fan of the manhandling and lifting. I doubt that was the first time Young Su had done that with Go Young. I'm sure it was Young Su's 'Go To' to calm Young down. Sometimes some fire dick will make you temporarily calm down and forget your boyfriend is a hot ass mess...more of a hot mess than you are which is actually crazy to think about.

All of OabPlawan's Love Scenes from Love No Long Beans. Because it would be a crime for me to have a favorite. SailubPon are featured twice on this list because they truly have some insane physical chemistry and their love scenes are up there with BossNoeul for me. I love that OabPlawan rarely had love scenes in bed, just getting down and dirty whenever and wherever they felt like it. It really showed how they just went with it when it hit them. It showed that despite their secrecy, they wouldn't be confined to a bed. Oab seemed to be a huge fan of lifting and bending Plawan over stationary surfaces. I approve of their unapologetic and inappropriate uses of counters.

Horny Miyata Being Mad At Iwanaga from Love is Better the Second Time Around. It was such a great love scene. Iwanaga was very much excited to be intimate with someone he held so dearly. Someone he loved. And though Miyata was a very willing participant he couldn't stop thinking about how good at The Sex Iwanaga was because it reminded him that Iwanaga was this intimate with other men. Why did it bother him? Because he felt like Iwanaga had moved on while he was stuck in the past, unable to give himself to anyone else; equating sex to love.

WayuJao's Love Scene from Two Worlds. We got ONE WayuJao love scene and it was amazing. The two of them in that dark ass abandoned house with the soft glow of candlelight. Jao was looking so incredibly nervous. Wagyu Beef was being very careful because Jao was hurt. I love that they kissed each other all over. The scene was intimate, slow, and passionate. Also who was expecting to see that much ass? Also, also Jao was doing a lot of movement with his punctured leg. I do wish we had more time with them in the series because I loved them together.

HuaiBao Hands Scene from Meet You At the Blossom. Perfection, so much so that it was my banner for a long ass time. Xiaobao had a way of making Huai'en feel shy, possessive, and insane all at once. I just found the love scene to be incredibly sweet and romantic. The hand kiss floored me along with their gentle smiles. The way Huai'en was running his hand down Xiaobao's thigh. The way he lightly raised Xiaobao's wrists above his head and how that turned into clasped fingers???? Pure art. Also I just loved Xiaobao's gold bangles in that scene.

GreatTyme's First Time in Great's Dying Brain from 4 Minutes. Oh it was so incredibly awkward. Great out of breath and laughing while Tyme kinda hovers over him. WHEN HE KISSED HIS FOREHEAD! Their kisses were sweet. I love how we got a lil awkward conversation in the silence while they tried to undress and figure things out. LOVED, LOVED, LOVED the close-up shots of Great's thigh tattoos and that hand pulling Tyme in closer. Great's Cartier bracelet!!! The way they were smiling and panting in each others faces; kissing and laughing. I also loved the golden light around them. It definitely had the ambiance of a dream.

GreatTyme's Actual First Time from 4 Minutes. It was fun. The open mouth kisses excellent. The way Great couldn't even wait until they got inside to go down on Tyme. And I cheered when Tyme pulled him back up for a kiss right after. Let's talk about Tyme eating Great out on the pool table and the way he was kissing all over the back of his neck! Let's talk about him biting that man's ass cheek. When Great put the condom on Tyme and lubed him up???? Oh that was hott!. Loved watching Great ride Tyme. Tyme's hands gripping and caressing Great's neck and chest and that overhead shot so we could see the gorgeous thigh tattoos again! Yea 10/10. IDK why Tyme was looking like he was annoyed because he was having a good time, the best time. I know sex with Great was the best he ever had.

Jack and Joke's First Time from Jack & Joker. Yea when they started off with Jack shoving Joke up against that wall through the clothes on the hangers? He hit the wall so hard I thought they were fighting and I thought Jack had put Joke through the wall. I love the way they kept shoving each other over so they could be on top. I love that they were both so out of breath the whole time. I loved the messy kisses, the choking, and chin grabbing. Loved the way they had to compromise or they would've been flipping each other over the rest of the series. I just know they left hella bruises and scratches all over each other. Those boys were hungry and feral.

ArashiRei's First Time from Love in the Air Koi. The way Arashi's giant ass had Rei pressed up against that wall, face buried in his neck and shoving his hands under his shirt? Rei looked so overwhelmed he really couldn't even respond, thought he was gon pass out. When Arashi lays Rei down and they kiss and Arashi starts licking Rei's lips?????????? We even got a brief shot of Arashi going down on Rei and I love the view we got of Arashi's back when he was pumping into Rei. Also Rei's moaning gave a porno vibe just a bit which I did enjoy.

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Order Up, Chaos Served

A Levi x reader fanfic (for LeviWeek 2024)

Crossposted from AO3

You get to go on a blind date with none other than Levi Ackerman. There's just one catch: you have to make it an epic disaster.

tags: modern AU, romcom vibes but make it thirsty, fluff and humor cw: contains some swearing | word count: 3.5k

A/n: for day 6 of LeviWeek, I used the prompts "blind date" and "role-play". You'll have to decide for yourself whether this qualifies for the "dystopia" prompt, lol. (It's a modern setting AU where Annie's dad is a rich CEO).

(Levi x reader Masterlist)

"So, what did you want to talk about?" You asked, fiddling with the teabag tag hanging from your cup.

"It's happening again," Annie said gravely. She was sitting opposite you, unsmiling.

"Damn. Another blind date?"

Annie nodded, her hands clenching into fists on the table. "Like, I know he doesn't approve of Armin. As if his daily offhanded comments about him being a wimp weren't enough. But now he's gone over to pretending that Armin doesn't even exist."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's like he's enlisted every eligible bachelor in this damn country to make my life a living hell. Says that I need a 'real man' by my side if I am to take over the company. I can't take it anymore."

You scoffed. "Like you aren't perfectly capable of leading the company by yourself. Why should your choice in a partner have anything to do with it?"

"Exactly. He's driving me insane. I swear, if I have to sit through even just one more blind date, I'm gonna explode. Don't know what I'll do to him then, but one thing's for sure, it won't be pretty. "

You gave her a sympathetic look.

Annie met your gaze with a sly smile. "That's where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're gonna go on that blind date for me."

"What?" You almost spit out your tea. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Multiple reasons. For one, you'd prevent and all-out war with my old man. You wouldn't want me to end up disowned, now would you?" She gave you an innocent look.

"Two. It's free food. I know you can't resist that."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that easily bought."

"We'll see about that." Annie waggled her brows. "It's at that exclusive sushi place even A-list celebrities can't get into without connections."

"Fuck it, I'm in."

Annie grinned. "I knew you'd come around eventually. But there's a small catch – you'll have to pretend to be me."

Oh no.

"And you'll have to make sure the date's a total disaster."

Oh no, no, no.

"So bad, in fact, that my reputation will be in ruins and no eligible bachelor will ever look my way again." She gave you an angelic smile.

"Think you could do that for me?"

– –

And that was the story of how you'd ended up here, in front of a high-end restaurant, wearing clothes that cost more than your car and all of your other possessions combined. You even wore a wig to look more like Annie. All in the name of friendship. (And free sushi.)

That sushi better be good.

You stepped inside, where an elegantly dressed hostess greeted you with a perfectly practiced smile and a courteous bow of her head.

"Welcome, do you have a reservation?"

Hell yeah. You put on a polite smile. "Yes. It should be in the name of 'Ackerman'?"

That was the name of your date for the evening, a certain Levi Ackerman, apparently a nouveau-riche-type of businessman who qualified as a real man in the eyes of Annie's father. He was supposedly a few years older than you. Not that it really mattered with the plans that you had in store for him.

The hostess nodded pleasantly and motioned towards the dining area. "If you would follow me, please."

You stalked after her in your high heels, feeling a little out of your depth.

"Eyes on the prize," you muttered under your breath. If nothing else, you would stuff your face tonight.

But as you passed the tables, eyeing the exquisitely arranged dishes, your dreams of a feast were crushed instantly – the portions were tiny.

"Here it is," the hostess said, leading you past a delicate, ornamental paper divider to your table in the quietest corner of the restaurant. Mr. Ackerman was already there – not surprising, since you were almost half an hour late, the first part of your plan to leave the worst impression possible. His back was turned to you, so the only thing you could see was his dark undercut.

The hostess was the first to reach the table, pulling out your chair with a subtle, practiced gesture. "Yello!" You exclaimed loudly as you dropped into the seat, slouching with your elbows on the table. The man in front of you looked up with a frown. Your mouth fell open: The guy was hot. Somehow, Annie had failed to mention that not-so-little detail to you. You could already feel your cheeks start to burn, but you had to go through with the plan.

"Hi. I'm Annie Leonhart," you said in a fake, high-pitched voice, thrusting out your hand. "But my friends call me Leo – like the lion. RAWR!" You transformed your hand into a claw before he could take it, brandishing it under his nose.

Needless to say, he didn't look very impressed.

"I'm Levi," he said in an unflinching monotone. Damn, even his voice was hot.

You let out a shrill laugh. "How funny. I had a hamster with that name once."

Levi looked at you for moment, his expression flat. "Good to know. I hope your hamster had better manners than you do."

You nodded earnestly. "He was the most well-behaved hamster. Such a good boy."

Then you turned your gaze downward, squeezing your eyes shut to force out a few tears.

"Rest in peace, little one," you said, sniffling.

When you looked back up, his eyes were narrowed at you. You should probably tone it down a bit, or this date would be over before you even got to the entrées.

"Sorry, I get nervous at these things," you explained.

He gave you a curt nod.

Before you could say anything else, the waiter approached.

"Good evening. My name is Ryotaro, and I'll be taking care of you tonight."

He gave you a slight bow, before carefully setting down the menus in front of you.

"May I recommend our omakase for tonight? It is a selection of our chef's finest sushi, prepared with fresh, seasonal ingredients. Or, if you prefer, you may choose from our à la carte options."

"We'll do à la carte," you said immediately, not giving Levi any opportunity to get a word in.

"Certainly," Ryotaro said. "Please take your time. I'll return in a few moments to take your order."

Levi leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. You could feel his eyes on you, scrutinizing you, like they were probing your innermost thoughts. You swallowed and looked away from his face, trying to avoid his gaze. His sleeves were riding up a bit, revealing the veins protruding from his well-toned forearms. It wasn't fair. How was everything about this man so goddamn hot? Get a grip, you told yourself. You cracked your knuckles and reached for the menu. This was what you were here for. The food. Not the man. Even if he was delicious. Probably.

You tried not to gasp at the prices as you scanned the menu. It wasn't like you had to pay for any of this. In fact, this was your pay.

You glanced at Levi over the edge of your menu. He, too, was quietly reading what the restaurant had to offer.

You cleared your throat. "A lot of seafood, isn't it?"

"It's a sushi restaurant." He didn't look up from his menu.

"Tough crowd," you said. The room fell silent again.

You took a gulp of the water provided on the table, but your mouth was still dry like a desert. This was even harder than you had anticipated. The man didn't give you anything to work with.

When Ryotaro came back to the table, you breathed a sigh of relief.

Levi ordered first. "I'll start with the Shishito Peppers with Miso Glaze. For the main dish, I'll have the sushi and sashimi platter, chef's selection. As for drinks, I will get a green tea."

"Certainly, sir." Ryotaro turned to you. "And what may it be for the lady?"

"I'll get the Daiginjo sake. A whole bottle, please." There was no way you'd get through this evening sober.

"As you wish. I can bring you a tokkuri, a carafe."

"That will do nicely," you said sweetly. "As for the food… I'll have everything."

Ryotaro blinked at you. "E-Everything?"

"Yes, everything." You looked at him with a dead serious expression. "For the entrées, I'll have the Tuna Tartare with Yuzu and Avocado, the Shishito Peppers with Miso Glaze, the Chawanmushi, the Seared Toro Carpaccio, and the Agedashi Tofu, please. I hope you won't make me recount the main dishes, too."

"Certainly not," Ryotaro said politely, having caught himself again. "Will it be the full portions, or may it be a bit of everything?"

"Full portions," you said, not missing a beat.

"Absolutely. Would you like to order all of our side dishes, as well?"

"Yes, that would be most darling."

"Certainly," Ryotaro said in a measured tone, betraying nothing. What an absolute professional.

He bowed slightly, then quietly stepped back, leaving the table.

Levi took a sip of his water, seemingly unbothered by your excessive ordering. You gave him an incredulous look. He put down the water, placing it on the table with a soft thud.

"You're really going all out, aren't you?" he said dryly.

"Of course. I'm here for the food."

He raised an eyebrow at you. It was a good look on him. (Everything was a good look on him.)

"Just for the food," you reiterated. It physically hurt you to say it.

"Is that so," he said, impassive.

"Yes. Daddy wants me to go on dates to find a real man. But I'm not into real men." You made a dramatic pause. "I prefer them two-dimensional, you know? Like from an anime. They're just so much cooler." You held your breath as you waited for Levi's reaction.

He didn't even flinch. "Of course they are cooler. They're not real."

"They are real for me!" You protested, adding a bit of a whiny undertone.

That earned you an eye roll.Yes! You were getting there.

"I'm sure they are very real... in your head. Good luck finding a two-dimensional guy that you can get dinner with, let alone hold a conversation."

You scoffed. "It's not like you are that great at holding a conversation. You're not the most talkative guy."

He gave you a deadpan look. "Good. I should be your type then."

Damn, that was smooth. You could feel your face heating up at his words.

"I'll have you know that the anime guys in my head are great conversationalists. I have a very vivid imagination, you know?"

"You'd need it, since you'd essentially be both sides of the relationship. Rather one-dimensional, actually."

He had a point. But of course, you couldn't let him know that. You let out a dramatic sigh. "Still more exciting than any real men I've encountered so far."

"Maybe you met the wrong ones."

"All of them corporate lackeys, like you. I'm sure you don't really want to be here, either. You're just trying to further your agenda, get a foot in the door of daddy's company. At least I'm being honest about what I want." You flipped your hair back for additional theatrics.

Levi tilted his head, his cool eyes fixed on you with newly-found interest.

"So that's what you think this is. Explains a lot."

You met his gaze, challenging him. "Am I wrong?"

"About me playing some corporate game? Yes. While it's true that I'm here because I owed Leonhart a favor, I'm not trying to get anything out of this. Nor am I planning on doing any further business with him, for that matter. This is separate."

"Right," you said with thinly-veiled sarcasm.

Before he could get a chance to respond, Ryotaro was back at your table, having wheeled in your entrées and drinks on a serving cart. He transferred your drinks to the table, setting down a ceramic carafe for you. You watched him pour you a glass and immediately grabbed it when he was done, downing it in one swift motion. He refilled it without batting an eyelid.

"The Shishito Peppers for you, sir," he said, placing the dish in front of Levi.

"And which one may you prefer to eat first?" He asked, turning to you.

"Whatever you recommend. I'm going to eat them all anyway. Just put as many as will fit on the table," you replied with a smile. The food was beautifully arranged, each dish looking like dainty little artworks with their delicate garnishing and vibrant colors. It made your mouth water in anticipation.

"Certainly," Ryotaro said, moving some of the dishes to your table. "I'd recommend the Tuna Tartare for a light and refreshing start. You could proceed with the Shishito Peppers for some mild heat, then move on to the heartier dishes. Would this be to your liking?"

"You bet," you said enthusiastically. This elicited a faint smile from Ryotaro, a nice change from his usual stiff demeanor. He didn't know it yet, but he would get a huge tip tonight for putting up with your antics. Annie had given you her gold card, and you intended to make good use of it.

As soon as he had left your table, you took out your phone and snapped pictures of every single dish. Levi gave you a look.

"You planning to frame those?" He sounded slightly amused.

This wasn't a good direction. You needed to double down on the weirdness.

"Almost. These are for my diary," you said with a serious nod, like this was perfectly normal. "Right, of course I'll need a snapshot of you, too."

You pointed the camera at him and took a photo without asking for his permission, perfectly capturing his frown.

You put on a pout. "You didn't even smile. What will daddy think? He might think you're not having any fun."

"Oh, I'm having fun alright," Levi muttered under his breath.

You snickered. This was more like it. He seemed a bit resigned, already. You just had to work him a little bit more. After the entrées, of course.

As you took your first bite, your eyes lit up with pure and utter delight, the exquisitely tender tuna melting in your mouth, harmonizing perfectly with the acidity of the yuzu. You couldn't stop a huge grin from spreading over your face. This was definitely worth the cost, even if it meant making a complete fool of yourself.

Levi watched you, and for a second, a ghost of a smile passed over his lips.

"You really are just here for the food, aren't you," he noted wryly.

"You know it!" You exclaimed in between bites. You savored every last one of them, closing your eyes to bliss out without any distractions.

"Tch. You look like you're about to propose to the chef."

You opened your eyes to grin at him. "That's a fantastic idea! I totally should."

"A shame that he's three-dimensional, though," he quipped in that monotone of his, which shouldn't be allowed to sound this damn good, but it somehow did. You actually laughed out loud at this – your real laugh – but you didn't even notice.

You shrugged. "Everyone should be allowed one flaw."

He did the eyebrow-raise again. It made your heart beat faster. "Are you implying that I have more than one?"

"We already established this. You're not the best at carrying a conversation."

"I think I'm carrying this one just fine."

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day." You smirked.

"Tch. You're being quite a rude brat right now."

Your smirk grew wider. "Everyone should be allowed one flaw, remember?"

Levi snorted. There was a slight quirk to the corners of his mouth, a bit higher on one side, like his smile would be lopsided if only he'd allow it to fully form.

His eyes were locked with yours. Your heart was thumping in your chest.

Ryotaro's polite voice cut through the tension between you. "Is everything to your liking?"

You gave him a dazed look, like you'd just woken up from a dream.

"Yes," you said softly, almost inaudibly.

"It's good," Levi said, his face blank.

That made you snap out of it. "Good? Just good? It's phenomenal! Heavenly!" You gesticulated wildly with your hands to underline your words.

"I'm glad," Ryotaro said, sounding genuinely pleased. "May I take your empty dishes?"

"Sure."

You had finished most of the entrées already. The portions really were criminally tiny.

Ryotaro served you the remaining ones from the cart, then wheeled it away.

The silence that followed was charged, somehow. Different from before. You knew you should probably do something ridiculous, outrageous, something to tarnish the good name of the Leonharts, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Surprisingly, Levi was the one to break the silence.

"So you're an ill-mannered brat who prefers anime men over real ones. Any more flaws I should know about?"

"Of course not. I'm perfect," you said, doing the dramatic hair flip again.

There was a ripping sound, and suddenly your head felt much lighter. Something fell to the ground with a weak flop. You stared at it in horror. It was a mop of blonde hair – the wig had fallen right off.

Shit. "I-I can explain," you stammered. "I have severe dandruff, and I didn't want it to fall on my black dress. That's why I wanted to cover my hair, but it's rude to wear hats in restaurants, so I opted for a wig, and –"

"You can stop the charades. I know you're not Annie Leonhart," Levi cut you off. "I checked her photo beforehand, and you look nothing like her."

You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate. "Damn, it was the nose, wasn't it?"

"Yep."

"Fuck. So we've both been playing pretend this entire time? Why didn't you say anything sooner?" You searched his eyes for some sort of clue, but came up short.

"I wanted to find out what your intentions are. See how far you would take this."

"And what did your little investigation uncover?"

"That you're really into food. "

You flashed him a sheepish smile. "Dang, I guess I'm easier to read than I thought. That's all you gathered, Mr. Detective?"

"Well, you also have quite the comedic talent. You might want to consider a career in that field."

You chuckled softly. "Glad I could at least provide some entertainment for the evening."

Levi nodded. "I still have some questions though."

"I can imagine."

"I'd like to know the story behind all this. But I'd understand if you'd rather keep your privacy."

"It's fine," you said with a wave of your hand. "You deserve some answers. Actually, I'm Annie's best friend. She already has a boyfriend, but her father doesn't approve of him and wants to set her up with someone he prefers. You know, the classic story." You rolled your eyes. "Well, Annie was fed up with the constant blind dates and wanted to put an end to them once and for all. That's where I came in. She kinda roped me into this with the promise of free food…" You awkwardly ran a hand through your hair.

He huffed out a laugh. "You really did this only for the food? Should've asked for more."

"I know, right? But anyway, the idea was to ruin her reputation, make sure no eligible bachelor would be caught dead within a mile's radius from her... Guess that didn't go quite as planned."

Levi shook his head. "If you wanted someone to badmouth her, you picked the wrong person."

"So I gathered. You're not exactly the rumor spreading type. Not chatty enough."

"Right. Not as conversational as the cool anime dudes in your head," he deadpanned.

"Shut up." You grinned. "You know I only did this to fuck with you."

"Didn't work."

"Not even just a little bit?" You asked. "A teeny tiny little bit?"

He shook his head.

"Not even a micro bit? A nano bit?" You leaned in, giving him big doe eyes.

"Fine, I'll give you that. You got off to a strong start."

The smile on your lips grew even wider. "Yeah? You liked that? RAWR!" You gave him the lion claws again.

"Don't push it," he said, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.

"Admit it, you want to see more of it."

"No." He gave you a long look. "But I'd like to see more of the real you."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Did you just ask me on a second date? "

"I suppose I did. Figured it couldn't be any worse than this one."

"Joke's on you. We're not even at the main course. This date isn't over yet." And you had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot better.

A/n: I admit the anime guy thing might've been a bit meta xD Btw, reader absolutely brought containers in her purse to take the leftovers. Can't have the good food go to waste, lol.

It's out <3 @nironasaran

[sentientsnakeskin]

Also need to discuss the mischaracterization of Natalie Scatorccio because please look me in the eyes and tell me why people call her a bad person??? Like i get she’s verbally combative sometimes i guess but i can’t think of one time she did something bad that she didn’t genuinely apologize for afterwards. Like… seriously what. It feels like to me, narratively, she’s spent her whole life as a girl who goes through a lot of shit all the time and has unhealthy coping mechanisms, and then she gets shit from everyone around her for those same coping mechanisms. She has spent her whole life being unloved and unwanted and she still has such compassion inside of her and it’s so unreal. I mean i cannot believe the extent of her compassion, and there’s so much about her that I’ve never seen discussed, and I’m gonna talk about it. 

She was most likely going through withdrawal in the wilderness, she didn’t have access to anything and ik we saw her with a cigarette a couple times and we know she brought other contraband, but at some point she had to run out of it. She definitely had the ability to slowly let herself off of it but even that is something to take note of? Like if she did do that if means she quietly took the measures to get herself off it, to prepare for the eventuality that she wouldn’t have anything. And yet she never complained, was never a bitch about it, she even fucking gave what little she did have to Coach Ben cause she knew he needed it

Even with those that she didn’t like, most notably Lottie cause of the mysticism things and Jackie cause of the everything else, she still wasn’t near as rude as she could be? And was actually weirdly nice? She told Lottie to knock off the bullshit because she could see it going badly, and even when it came down to it and everyone started challenging her hunting skills in favor of Lottie, when Lottie needed it, she was there. She made up with Lottie, she apologized, she volunteered her tub of warm water despite also having hypothermia because Lottie needed it more. She could have been a smart aleck, but she wasn’t. She apologized. And even with Jackie, like she had every right to be pissed with Jackie because lowkey Jackie did say some shit abt her, but when it came down to it? She was good to her, she let her out of the closet at doomcoming, she never batted an eye about jackie sleeping with travis, she put aside all the petty shit, and she was the only one who ever showed any remorse for eating her. Nat hated Jackie the most out of everyone and she was the only one to have any reason to hate her, and yet Natalie Scatorccio was the one to carry her bones off to the burial site. She fucking apologized to her bones and thanked her for being the sacrifice they needed to survive, and that’s more than anyone else really did. Like bro… 

She literally always gave 110% for the survival of the group. I’m talking like, she got up at the crack of dawn every morning and went out and tried to hunt despite not getting anything ever, and got up even earlier to search for Javi with Travis despite never finding him. Like she had the same rations as everyone else just less sleep and more work like holy shit she tried?? All the time??? And then spent the time she did have at camp being the voice of reason? Defending the people that needed to be defended? Speaking up when no one else did? 

Also her attitude with Travis was just insane because you’re telling me she made an effort to understand why he was the way that he was even though he was nothing but a jerk to her, then when they got together took the time to go at a pace that was comfortable for him and reassure him of everything he ever needed to be assured of, and shelled out the effort to understand him when he started following Lottie more intensely, never batted an eye at him sleeping with Jackie in a heartbeat when he never did that with her their whole relationship, and even into their adulthood made an effort to help keep him clean and make sure he didn’t off himself while struggling with the same shit herself, even though he was clearly not good for her??? Like that’s literally insane bro 

Also, the stark difference between her behavior and everyone else’s when shit goes down is always stupidly obvious. Like especially at doomcoming? She ate the hallucinogenic mushrooms with everyone else, but she had the sense and the compassion to not only go and check on travis, she let Jackie out the closet, and then confronted everyone about trying to kill him, and stopped them. Like she could have joined in. That’s something she could have done but she didn’t, because she cares about Travis. She cares about people, in general. It’s so bizarre.

All this behavior also continues in the adult timeline. Especially later when she’s at the commune, but we see it earlier too. As mentioned, she continues to chase after Travis, keep him clean and safe. When he dies, she goes on an all consuming investigation into his death. When she finds out he really wasn’t murdered and Lottie saw him die, she spends like .2 seconds being suspicious of Lottie before she’s like okay yeah i believe you. And then despite not believing in Lottie’s like spiritual bullshit cult thing she doesn’t attempt to escape and doesn’t act near as critical of it as she obviously was. She bonded with Lisa, stuck up for her against her mom, stole her fish back in her mouth for her, and genuinely apologized for hurting her. And then she died for her! She sacrificed her life for a girl she knew maybe a week or two at most and im losing my MIND over it 

I probably missed things cause this is mostly just off the top of my head so add on anything i missed, but it’s just so insane to me how kind she was and continues to be despite everything. I just love the exploration of this character who in show is characterized as a bitch and is verbally abrasive but all of that is a cover for her being the most empathetic character ever??? Like oh my god 

[aceofheartsssss]

❤️ Deadpool 🖤 and 💛 Wolverine🖤 x Reader Scenarios

Yes, I’ve got a thing for them, how did you know? Everybody is in LOVE with Deadpool and Wolverine and I’ve seen some bubs say that they want fics and I want them too, so I made some scenariossss cuz DAMN IT, Wade and Logan are hot~ Go read my older stuff they feel abandoned :( Summary: Scenarios on how they’d act if they had a crush on you, how they’d act if y’all were a thing, yada yada, fluff, slight spiciness, etc. Let’s fucking go! ❤️💛 Warnings: Swearing, slightly spicy, and mentions of violence but y’all gon have to get used to that on my blog-

- Deadpool/Wade (I’ve loved him for years, he’s just so fineeee~)

How you’d act as friends (but you grew on him tho)

Sometimes he accidentally starts acting a little less intense and silly, and more soft around you, then he quickly snaps out of it

He keeps flirting, usual for him, but his flirting is more intense around you

He doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks you’ll reject him because of his scarred body and face (aww ☹️)

He’s always showing off and posing whenever he fights and kills around you~

He keeps trying to hug, touch, kiss and do shit like that (it’s Deadpool, c’mon man)

He literally does not shut up for one second around you

He actually blushes underneath the mask when you actually say something nice to him instead of yelling (he’s so glad you can’t see his face most of the time 👉👈)

You love to watch movies and shit with him because he makes them way more fun than they already are

He finds his own crazy, actually insane ways to spend a lot of time with you (like you don’t wanna know his complicated plots-)

He likes giving you the most random and useless things (aww)

He secretly loves it when you genuinely laugh at his shenanigans

He really knows how to stick to you so he’ll slowly grow on you like mold

How you’d act as partners (he’s stuck on like glue)

Now that he’s got full access to you, he will never stop touching you (cuddling, hand holding, hugging, poking, kissing, getting it on, etc.)

He constantly reminds you how he feels about you~

Constant compliments cuz yeah- 😭❤️

”Sweetheart,” “Babe,” “Baby,” “My love-”

He’s mostly dom but switches cuz he really enjoys being, uhh… (well, you watched the movies…)

He could and probably would kill anyone who tried to hurt you in any way possible (traumatized red man hates evil ppl 🗡️)

You best believe he’s good getting shit on, considering the experience and his super-powered… tools... (He’s really good…)

He’s the kind of guy who would literally never cheat and would quite literally be in love with you… forever (I mean it, he really is like that-)

He’d go broke trying to buy you stuff he thinks you want- 😭

You best believe that he’d do anything in his power to make sure you guys can be together as long as possible (he’d make a deal with the devil if it meant you had an extended lifespan like his)

He likes eating and chatting with you (so fun- 🌮🍔🍕)

He is the best hugger and cuddle-r with that big, strong, textured body~ (imagine omg-)

Beneath all the trauma, the killing, the humor, jokes, he really is just a big, soft, cuddly boi 👏✨

He’s just a playful guy, like you’d never get bored

-

Wolverine/Logan (as feral as an actual wolverine for him~)

How you’d act as friends (he kinda doesn’t know he likes you)

He’s nicer (slightly) to you than to anyone else and he doesn’t know why

He taunts other people (*cough* Wade-) along with you instead of against you (despite what he usually does)

He throws out an accidental compliment here and there (his eyes go wide when he realizes~ 💛)

Out of character for him, he snaps at people who mock, taunt, tease, flirt, or throw insults at you (I wonder why~)

You’ll catch him smirking or smiling before he fixes it and frowns again

He’s so touch starved but can’t say anything because of his own Wolverine-y reasons (tough boi 😔)

He’ll melt if you initiate the touches (hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, random “friendly” patting, etc.)

He finds himself hanging around you more than anyone else despite apparently hating people

How you’d act as partners (he wants you as much as possible)

He’d spent as much time with you as possible, always holding you tight

He compliments you however he can

He never wants to let you go (he’s scared of losing you because of his extended lifespan)

Get ready for the most overprotective, husband material man, who’d likely beat anyone to a pulp for you~

He’d give the nastiest death glare to anyone that’s being negative towards you (it’s so sexy tho-)

Don’t tease or taunt him… (or do 😰)

He’s always a stiff man, but around you he’s just… different

He melts at your touch, and this kitty definitely has Puss in Boots eyes (🥺)

”Love,” “Doll,” “Bub,” “Darlin’,”

He def dom all the time, y’all seen the movies-

He’s very good btw. Like a loooot- Soft but rough ngl (idk how but he is, trust-)

He’s into pain… *wink* (canon btw)

He’d treat you right like a fucking gentleman

He’s a nice cuddle-r despite the tough exterior (he’s so touchable, he’d squeeze you so tightttt)

He’s just a comforting, big, strong guy, who wouldn’t want that?

There we go, bubs. Had to get it outta my system~

Lemme know if ya liked my writing, I need the compliments/advice.

(Yessss tie them up…)

[irl-batsignal]

The Bee Movie.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Coming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Can you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive City graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick our job today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! -

That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Can anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Check it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.

Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Couple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening.

See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick.

That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Cool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Could be daisies. Don't we need those? Copy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Chemical-y. Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Candy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Coming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny!

What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Come on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. 

That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Can I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Come on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Can I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out your job and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating.

You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Cinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. -

You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Crazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads!

Pinhead. –Check out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Chung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Chung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Columbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here.

Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?

They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Call your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the right job. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - 

What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins!

I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Could you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - 

What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Can't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Cannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.

That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. – That just kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? Could you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - 

Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Captain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out!

Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Can you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Come on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - 

Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Can I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

[rockybloo]

With it nearing the end of the year, I feel like it's a good time to just have some real talk about why I create art.

At some point during in high school, during those years where you are pressured to figure out what you want to do when you grow up and what you want to major in when you go to college, I had wanted to go to art school after high school. I decided against it ultimately because I just didn't see a true appeal for me. I started to realize that I enjoyed my art so much more when I didn't have the pressure on me to create something for a fancy final product. Yeah, I could go but then I'd have to change aspects of myself I didn't really want to change but had to because that's what the world says I gotta do if I want to be a good artist.

And that's the thing I sort of hate the most about being able to create anything. You have to be good. Otherwise you are wasting your time. You aren't allowed to just make stuff for fun and for a hobby - you have to constantly be striving for improvement at a pace others have set for you. You can't just have it as a hobby. If you make art then it's expected that you make good art.

You're not allowed to be satisfied with being mediocre.

I've been actively posting my art online since I opened a Deviantart account way back in middle school. I'm 26, on my way to becoming 27. And as someone who has spent a solid decade online, I feel more certain than ever that I am a hobby artist. Having a fulltime job DEFINIATELY has helped me come to that conclusion but even before, I knew I liked to draw for fun. I don't like to stress about what I am sharing to cyberspace, I like just having this digital archive of stuff I've made and stories I've written.

I call myself a self indulgent artist because I'm incredibly selfish draw things I want and write stories I'd enjoy.

That's not to say I don't care that people enjoy my work and feel represented at times. I love it when people share how happy they feel when they see my OCs and read my stories. I'm happy I can fulfill some niches for people. Honestly, it'll always be crazy to me when I make something so damn specific that I wanna see and share it just for some other people to get excited. There are benefits to having a public digital archive your art and reactions people may have are one of them.

But ultimately I don't create to make others happy. If I did focus my art on just doing that, I promise you that my online presence and art would look DRASTICALLY different.

I share my stuff online because it's a whole lot easier to archive all my art as well as being able to share my stuff with the world and occasionally make some friends. Posting my art shows I was alive so MAYBE JUST MAYBE I will not be watered down when recalled in memories and people will always know I was insane about my OCs.

I'm pretty satisfied with be a mid artist. My finished work makes me happy, and what I care about is managing to create something of the fellas that reside in my head because seeing my OCs makes me happy...AND I'M THE ONLY SOURCE OF CONTENT FOR THEM SO I GOTTA COOK MY OWN FOOD AND EAT IT TOO--

ANYWAYS I am in no rush to level myself up. I'm 27 and human lifespans are pretty long. Even though it's slow and subtle, I have def been making improvements in my work...but mainly because there are aspects about my OCs that I occasionally realize I am struggling with and pull a "Do it for her" as I work on what I am having a hard time with. SURE they might not be improvements others would like to see but they are improvements that make me happy. And I am excited to see how my art develops over my existence on this planet.

.

.

.

...I am also excited to see if my black ass can finish any of my webcomics before I die. I KNOW I CAN DEF FINISH ONE OF 'EM I JUST DUNNO WHICH ONE IT'S GONNA BE! IT'S A RACE TO SEE WHO MAKES IT TO THE FINISH LINE BEFORE I KEEL OVER

[delulustateofmind]

OMG, your fic "This is Love, Right?" was really good. I have a feeling that Geto never truly loved Y/N, at least not as a lover, and neither did Gojo, because it seems to me that Y/N was only important to him until Geto came into the picture. After Geto's arrival, their whole dynamic changed, and Y/N ended up becoming a third wheel and broodmare in the relationship, where they hardly respect or love her as much as they do each other. I just want to know your point of view on the dynamics of their relationship and your perspective on my thoughts about them.

TW: Toxic Relationship, Abuse of Power Dynamics, Discussion of Yandere Behaviors.

Ahhh! thank you! Good question, your perspective is pretty spot on!

Okay, so... long story short, they think they love the reader.

Like, they legit believe this is what love feels like. But their version of love? It’s nowhere near healthy. It’s suffocating, built on possession and this obsessive need to have the reader rather than actually supporting or understanding them. The whole dynamic is super toxic. Satoru and Suguru on their own? They never really could click (Awful at communication). They were always missing that bridge to hold them together—and that’s where the reader comes in. But instead of just letting things naturally work, they basically force the reader into their lives, shaping them to fit their desires and deepen their bond with each other.

Suguru didn’t even think he’d love the reader at first. In the beginning, it was all part of the long game (getting Satoru to kill the higher ups or convincing him to defect). I mean, his daughters were executed just so he could crawl back into jujutsu society (thanks to the higher-ups, who basically had him "finish" the mission of the night he defected). So, at first, Suguru was just talking to Satoru, saying he couldn’t understand how he could date a non-sorcerer, blah blah blah. Then Satoru invited him into the relationship. Suguru figured, why not use this as a way to make the reader’s life hell? He couldn’t wipe out all non-sorcerers, but he could make their life miserable while getting his boyfriend back.

But then… he started to fall for them—or at least, his version of love. Over the years, though, he’s gotta remind himself at night that he does love them. His love is all about manipulation and control. He’s sneaky about it, isolating the reader emotionally and planting little seeds of guilt and doubt to make them more compliant. He’s so good at twisting things that the reader ends up questioning their own thoughts and decisions. Suguru’s "love" isn’t about genuine connection; it’s about dominance. It’s his way of keeping a piece of Satoru through the reader, not because he’s actually emotionally attached to them. Oh, he knows he can’t have kids with Satoru, so you’re spot on about the reader basically being a broodmare in his mind.

I think though once the reader pops out a few kids, he does grow to love them, especially if they produce sorcerers for him. So good luck ever trying to leave the clan estate, because when he does actually love he's literally insane (the type of insane to clip your Achilles tendon, not permanent but may affect your walking ability)

Satoru, on the other hand, does love the reader—but in this super selfish, messed-up way. Originally, they were just a rebound for him. (In part one, the reader had met Suguru before and had a tiny crush on him—it’s mentioned briefly.) When Satoru should’ve been working on himself, maybe going to therapy or dealing with his issues? Nah, he was pouring all that emotional baggage into the reader instead. His love is intensely possessive. To him, the reader isn’t their own person—they’re more like an extension of himself, someone who exists to make him feel better and meet his emotional needs.

This whole thing started way before Suguru joined the picture. The reader actually almost left Satoru once, and honestly? They probably should’ve, probably would have had a better ending. But Satoru used his charm and playful personality to reel them back in, all while hiding this super manipulative streak. And yeah, he cares about them—like, when the reader ran away, this man was ready to hollow-purple the entire airport. Suguru had to step in and talk him down, suggesting they go back to the clan estate instead. But at the end of the day, Satoru’s love is still selfish. It’s all about making himself happy and avoiding his own pain, with the reader’s needs coming in second—if at all.

And just for fun, I don’t think the reader even understood what love was. That’s the thing with a lot of people who end up in toxic relationships like this—they convince themselves that this is the love they deserve. So, while the reader is being manipulated and undermined, she has to keep telling herself, “This is love.” She’s not being openly abused—she’s still allowed to go to school (a little ounce of freedom), and it’s not like they’re yelling at her or anything. Arguments would’ve been relatively calm, with Suguru usually taking the lead and doing most of the talking.

Because of all that, the reader may be confusing dependency for love. She relies on Satoru and Suguru for financial support, for safety (even if it’s a twisted kind of safety), and for emotional stability. In her mind, she’s thinking, “This is a good relationship.” That’s why it was so hard for her to leave, even when she had a real shot at it. She keeps justifying staying by focusing on the good times instead of the bad ones. It’s less about actually feeling love and more about clinging to the idea of it.

So, in summary: Do they love the reader?

Yeah… but it’s not the good kind of love. Like most toxic relationships, their love is super conditional and unhealthy. It’s not about the reader’s happiness, growth, or well-being—it’s about how the reader fits into their lives and fulfills their needs. To them, this is love, but it’s a love that lacks a lot of fundamentals like respect, freedom, and equality.

Sorry! I rambled quite a bit lol

[strayheartless]

I am of the firm belief that Squall and Cloud are little shits to each other, but in such a deadpan way that their friends never know whether they are flirting or fighting (their flirting, their just idiots)

It starts with little things: Squall poking Cloud in the side with one of his mini screwdrivers to make Cloud yelp. Cloud licking the last cookie on the plate while Aerith isn’t looking just to see Squall twitch.

You know, silly stuff! But then it devolves into tripping each other and aiming low level spells at one and other under Merlin’s dining table to see if the other will brake. It gets a little out of hand at times when one of them will just casually push the other on the edge of the crystal fissure, just to watch them shit themselves.

Yet it only ever gets a disgruntled “fuck you” face from either of them. Aerith keeps scolding them for being mean to eachother, and every time squall will say “what are you talking about? Cloud is literally the only one of you I can stand,”. It drives her insane. Partly because she can’t figure out why they keep winding each other up so violently, but also because she’s pretty sure they are dating in secret but she can’t PROVE IT!!

“Why do you bully Squall?”

“Who?”

“Squall! Leonhart? You’ve been tormenting him for weeks?! Is this the nibelhiem equivalent of pulling a girls pigtails?”

“Did you drink Merlin’s special tea again?”

“Don’t you gaslight me Cloud Strife! Are you flirting with him?!”

“Who?”

“SQUALL!!”

“Yeah?”

“IM NOT TALKING TO YOU IM TALKING TO CLOUD!”

“But you… whatever”

“Are you dating”

“Who’s dating?”

“You and squall!”

“Dating who?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Well be clearer with your questions!”

“Do you keep bullying squall because you like him?”

“Oh, sure if you want. HEY SQUALL!”

“Stop yelling asshole I’m right here!”

“Aerith thinks we’re flirting.”

“Are we?”

“YOU ARE!”

“Huh, cool”

“GOOD GODDESS I HATE YOU BOTH!”

They get endless hours of entertainment from winding her up with it. She will watch as Cloud uses his water bottle to squirt Squall in the face while their training and squint at them for literally any non-verbal hints of romance. She even drags Yuffie and Tifa into it, making them watch Squall like a hawk when he dumps a literal ton of paperwork on Clouds snoozing face, and walks away as the other flails.

Tifa was under the impression she knows Clouds love language, but even she’s confused with whatever this is.

Are they dating? Yes they are.

Are they entertaining themselves by winding eachother and their friends up? Yes, yes they are.

[sturnioloszn]

KISS ME ON NYE? - C.S

summary; while at a nye party with the triplets, you realise you have nobody to kiss at midnight, but neither does chris...

warnings; mentions of alcohol, light kissing/making-out.

a/n; ugh i feel like i've written a million oneshots based at parties lmfao, this will be the last one for a hot minute lol.

Parties weren't my usual scene. The loud music which I could feel in my bones, the crowds of sweaty and drunk people, the desperate men who would do anything to get in a girl's underwear, it all just made me feel gross. However, for the sake of my best friends and the fact that it was new years eve, I dragged myself here in hopes of a good time.

Sipping from my water bottle, I looked around and noticed Nick in the kitchen, pouring himself another alcoholic concoction. I make my way towards him, in urgent need of a conversation, because standing in the corner of a party, alone, is incredibly depressing.

"Ugh, where have you been?" I ask, approaching my friend, leaning against the marble countertops.

"Making out with that insanely hot guy," he replies, nodding his head to the giant standing in the middle of the dance floor. He stuck out like a sore thumb, but that was usually Nick's type anyway.

"How about you? What have you been up to?"

"Literally nothing. I'm bored out of my mind," I admit. I take another sip of my water as I scan my eyes over the house full of people. I notice Matt sitting on the couch with a girl on his lap. Damn, even Matt is getting some right now, and I'm not.

"So you don't have your kiss yet?" Nick questions, tasting his weird mix of alcohol that he had just created.

"Kiss? For what?" I reply, completely baffled.

"Midnight, duh. Are you not gonna have a new years eve kiss?"

"No? Do you have someone to kiss?" I ask. There's no way I'd participate in that stupid tradition. Even if i wanted to, which I do not, I don't have anyone to kiss.

"Um, yes. Mr. 6'3" is my kiss," he grins, offering me some of his creation, but I quickly decline it.

"Is Matt kissing someone?"

I don't want to be the only one not kissing someone at midnight. I'll be the first to admit that it's just a stupid trend, but I'll also admit that I suffer from severe FOMO and being the only one not kissing someone will have me wishing a black hole would open and swallow me whole.

"Probably that girl he's been hanging out with all night," he shrugs, chugging down more of his drink.

"Chris?"

"No idea, I've barely seen him, actually," he says.

"Anyway, I'm going back to my man, it's almost midnight! You better find someone quick,"

I'm left alone again, wondering what the fuck I'm supposed to do. I make my way to the living room and notice a large countdown displayed on the tv. There were two minutes before midnight. Shit.

Just as worries began to flood my head, Chris walked into the room. Our eyes meet before he lazily strolls over with a small smile on his lips.

"Where have you been?" I smile, acknowledging his relaxed presence. I guess he wasn't worried about finding someone to kiss at midnight.

"Honestly, in one of the rooms, on my phone," he chuckles. It wasn't the answer I expected, and he could tell I was taken by surprise. Chris usually loves this kind of stuff; the music, the drinks, the girls. But recently, he hasn't been as into them.

I glance at his drink of choice and notice he was holding a pepsi, not even any liquor.

"You kissing someone at midnight?"

His question made my stomach flip. I'd be completely lying if I said that I didn't have a tiny crush on Chris. I know we've been friends for years, but that's exactly why I can't let my feelings get in the way of our friendship.

But his question had me rethinking everything between us. Did he feel the same? Was he just looking for a new years eve kiss? Did it matter if it was me or any random girl?

I'm broken from my thoughts when everyone suddenly starts chanting numbers. I'm confused for a moment until I realise they were counting backwards from ten. It was ten seconds until midnight. Nine. Eight. Seven.

Shit, was I really going to do this? Six. Five. Four.

I look over to Chris, who's already looking straight at me. Three. Two.

It was now or never I guess. One.

I quickly wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face into mine, crashing our lips together. He doesn't hesitate to kiss me back, and everything feels frozen. The entire room stills, and the only thing I can comprehend was the way his lips grazed mine over and over again.

His hands rested on my lower back, pulling me closer into him. I feel the air being drawn out from my lungs, forcing me to pull away from this dream-like state.

Opening my eyes, I'm met with his dark blue ones. There's absolutely no way he didn't feel anything in that kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," he smirks, pulling me in for another kiss. This time, I open my jaw wider, letting him have full access to my mouth. I feel his tongue dip in and out, leaving the taste of his soda in my mouth. I feel my knees grow weaker, and the butterflies in my stomach stronger.

I briefly pull away from the kiss again.

"Me too," I smile against his lips, wishing I could crystalise this moment forever.

a/n; final oneshot of the yearrrrr, isn't that crazy? anywho, i'd like to just take a moment to thank everyone for all the love i've received. every reblog, every like, every comment, it all means so much to me, and I'm so insanely grateful. i can't wait for this new year, i have some exciting stuff planned, and hopefully, you're just as excited. have an amazing new year, everyone, love you all! 💙

Taglist; @idrk2292 @missmanheim @moonlightsturns @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @chrissturniolodailysluts @sturnobsessedwh0re

[bardicious]

Putting this in it's own post, but SO sick of the narrative bringing up Sam not looking for Dean in purgatory. Like, seriously, this show needs to shut the fuck up with this bs. I have very much two ways of looking at this:

Sam didn't know Dean was in Purgatory, man BLEW up, and presumably died. Sam was left ALL alone after Dean disappeared. Sam who only a few months before was on the verge of insanity, who barely recovered from his cage trauma. So Sam has a mental break down, my personal headcanon is that he made Amelia and the dog up to cope. But even if he didn't do that than he was still using Amelia and the dog to cope with his brother's death. He literally left the hunter life completely, presumably because he couldn't handle it. And I honestly think he would have died if he kept going.

Removing these scenarios, if people are so obsessed with Sam just hitting a dog and shacking up with it's vet, ignoring ALL Sam's mental issues, let's say Sam just did all of that, abandoned Dean because he so obviously didn't care about Dean, didn't even try to find him, all because they promised they wouldn't, do y'all realize how fucking out of character that is? Y'all realize how bad that writing is? It's actually insane. It's not something Sam would do in his right mind.

It's why I completely ignore fics that focus on Sam actually looking for Dean, personally I love the cage trauma inserting itself so bad that Sam has to find a way to not just shoot himself in the head. Find that kind of story fun. So we're either dealing with Sam was severely mentally ill and couldn't look for Dean, OR it's bad fucking writing. Bad writing that the showrunners could not get over. And god, it's SO aggravating.

[wyvchard]

Resignation and Firing

After several failed attempts to escape their fate via Zoraxis execution, Agent Phoenix has finally resigned.

Content Warnings: Impermanent Death, Guns, Execution, Allusions to historical events and shrines, References of violence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

... If that is the case, have I gone insane?

I don't know how long I've been in this time loop but I know it is enough to make me feel weary.

My hands were bound by a device that shielded the outside world from my telekinesis. My feet were shackled by chains that bound them from the rest of the world.

The cold metal of the gun was placed right behind me, replacing the weight of my earpiece.

"Don't step there. It feels more like a bad omen." The worried tone was soon after followed by the yank that took me away from my path. "You're walking in the same path that someone who died."

"But... he's a hero." I turned to critical eyes, looking coldly at me.

"... You're walking the last steps of an executed hero."

Bronze steps lined the last walk of the main figure who sparked a revolution, marked and paved in the concrete as we took a walk deeper into the park.

Memories of an old field trip returned in my mind, feeling the stone path through my shoes as we bathed in the noonday sun.

As we walked, listening to the life of that hero, his birth and accomplishments, we all came with the knowledge of his end.

... Just like who I know how this time loop will end when I fight it.

My steps had been marked. Deviate just a bit and gunpowder will rain from the ends of several guns.

It wasn't like before where the smoke only come from special effects. It wasn't like the time I held someone in my arms telling them in was only a loud noise. It wasn't like... everything.

The green grass of the park was replaced by the barren concrete of the facility. The friendly tour guide talking about the historical figure while leading us around: the operatives remaining silent while leading me to my death... The sun that warmed my cheeks as I ran around, harsh lights that seem to remain cold even as my cheek remained pressed onto the cold concrete.

... I'm sure that they'd have to resupply their fireworks if we had to compare it to how many times I'd been riddled by bullets.

The multiple times warmth slowly seeped out of my body, carmine staining the floor like the multitude who have met the same fate, fighting against a force stronger than any one single person can fight.

... Is the only option I have... waiting for death? Accepting it? Hope that the agency can find me before I stop?

I can only delay my execution by so much. I can only endure their beating by so much. I can only hold on for this much.

All escapre routes are cut off, leaving me caged in a cell before they finally decided to end my life hours later.

... Would it be foolishness to hope they'll find me before I get shot if I decided to play along? Does he even know?

"Are you sure you're alright?" I answered the phone while a Zoraxis operative handcuffed my other hand, disabling my telekinesis.

"... I'm fine po." I tried to control my voice as the barrel of the gun was aimed directly at my head. "It's getting late. I'm going to sleep now. See you in a couple hours, Sir."

Did I do a good job of hiding the fact I was held hostage that night?

"You're docile right now, Agent. Did something happen?"

I refuse to answer any of Zor's provocations.

I'm so tired.

Just tired.

But falling won't do a thing.

It's funny. I now get why the agency gave us the option to write a letter addressed to people in the event of our death.

... Not everyone can have time to write one. Or even get theirs to the recipients.

Will the agency even honor my final wishes? I've turned into a figurehead. And last I checked, I don't even know if we did respect his last wishes either.

I was made to stand, back towards several guns as I decided one more act of defiance.

Just like how he turned around so he didn't get executed like a 'traitor', I'll turn around so I wouldn't fall like a coward.

... And I'm so glad I did.

"Agent!"

... Reggie, you came with everyone.

Would it be alright if I sit this fight out?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@phoenix-and-found-family, @the-one-and-only-043, @ghostlystarwanderer, @jellyfishgummy

@blueorchid-95, @pandagobrr, @silverdragon889, @tillywunderwing, @stellar-collective

I got up and chose the angsty route. XD

[sideblog-side-b]

I changed my url because I was being mass reported and as I stated, heavily rely on my Tumblr and couldn't risk it being deactivated

There was no "clone" account. It was the same exact account with a different URL. Which is why your links didn't work anymore, because my url was different 🫠🫠🫠

Amd anyway my acct did get deactivated but it was BY TUMBLR. BECAUSE OF REPORTS.

I did NOT delete my own account you insanely paranoid idiot.

And if it can be googled in 5 minutes then do it. Prove it.

Because you say you made a "detailed case" about about me but thus far you've made completely unsubstantiated claims and accusations that could be better explained by the fact you have no idea how Tumblr works, have no tolerance for political opinions that don't align with your own, never spoke with anyone intelligent, and are genuinely going off nothing but vibes.

Your "proof" is the way i talk. It's my opinions. It's my wording???? That's not proof.

If you know so much about IP addresses and how easy they are to find then what's mine??? Cuz again you have NO PROOF of anything because you're going off NOTHING but vibes and your own intolerance for political differences.

Youre weirded out that I took so long to address this and now you're going to accuse some other rando of being a bot with an account cuz you're psychotic and think you're last reblog has something to do with me. It doesn't for the record. Not everything is a paranoid coincidence or proof of a conspiracy theory.

Truth is that I waited to address this, cuz again, I couldn't risk losing my account.

But it's happened. I lost it. So here I am, with nothing left to lose because I have 2 followers and no help anymore.

"Why over react?" "Why pre emptively provide proof?"

You've slandered and defamed me. I've lost my financial stability over YOU and your unsubstantiated nonsense. I think I'm under reacting if anything, but you can't understand that cuz you think everyone with different opinions than you is a Russian/maga spy.

And its not PREemptive if you have ALREADY made accusations against me. It's me defending myself. Dumbass.

Get a fucking grip, you're so paranoid you're losing touch with reality. You can't even keep a fucking timeline straight.

And be so fucking real, YOU with your childish cringe fandom blog are not so important that an actual psyop/spy would come back to try holding both you AND Tumblr accountable for your actions. Especially not POST an election where Trump already won

Besides that, he didn't even lose because of third parties!!!

Your accusations are baseless but have caused REAL harm to REAL people.

But you're so deep in paranoia you don't even fucking care, do you? You just assume your important enough for a spy/psyop to target and doctor up proof.

And again I have 2 followers. There is nobody who will be coming to my aid unless it's because YOU reblogged this post and YOUR OWN audience realized how out of touch with reality you are.

I literally live in Washington state. I'm a native. I'm on Medicaid and EBT. My name is in the fucking screenshot.

But you wanna make accusations and force me to lose my housing based on VIBES.

You're sick.

Im a native. My mom is registered with a tribe in the USA (turtle mountain band of chippewa). I will not be sharing her name as she travels across the country for native advocacy within her union and I don't want her getting the same harassment I have. That said, I do not have enough blood to be registered with the same tribe cuz she had me with a native man outside of her tribe.

I've been harassed relentlessly by user @crazyintheeast because they didn't like my opinions. They got their followers and others to mass report me in order to get my blog deleted under the assumption that I, literal native american, was a Russian psyop/spy trying to rig the election.

Why? Cuz i didn't like kamala OR Trump cuz they both sought to aid israel in its genocide.

My people know how much the USA loves genocide. We know sweet words mean nothing in the face of actions that cause harm. We know betrayal of the government.

And like the men who forced us to sign unfair treaties under threat, crazyintheeast encouraged their followers to attack me for not doing what they thought I should. They attacked me for speaking up for indigenous people and saying genocide is never an acceptable term to accept.

Im disabled so I relied heavily on Tumblr to help me pay bills since I can't work and don't qualify for SSI/SSDI due to neglect for my parents neglecting my health as a kid (so I have no medical history proving i was always sick) and for not working enough and having enough work credits to have earned SSI/SSDI as an adult (cuz i was too disabled)

Losing my blog and my followers has threatened my livelihood and ability to take care of my kid.

Speaking up for myself and for whats right in a climate of paranoia, conspiracies, and unsubstantiated rumors has threatened my real, offline life as a native american and parent.

Im sick to my stomach over this. Im stressed. I'm desperate.

And what's worse is i can't do anything except report them to @staff, who so far has done nothing since their blog and their posts about mass reporting me are STILL up despite being CLEAR cases of harassment and make this post hoping people care and will help me either get my blog back or help me raise awareness about the clear manipulations that happened this election that caused BIPOC to once again be targeted and harmed more than any other group on this site.

Please help me get the attention of staff at the very least and demand that at the very least, they be held responsible for harassment

Do Russians spies use US EBT and get ads for walmart?? Update to ways their Medicare will change?

Please reblog

[jaguarys]

Anyways why the fuck did Naruto invent a secret underground army of brainwashed child soldiers and then just never do anything with that again. Can we talk about that