#I guess there are some people with email jobs who actually think the email is useful

[elainemorisi]

one of these days there'll be a scolding anti-gpt post that doesn't begin with "emails" and then maybe I'll reblog it. because man, I agree with the scold, but "smarmy bullshit you don't respect" is like, the solidly reasonable normal-person use case. gpt the shit out of a cover letter[ first draft], who are we even kidding

[reidmania]

inbetween | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list

summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.

warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.

an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!

part one, part two, part three

‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’

<>

The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.

You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.

Sent from dr.spencerreid@gmail.com at 5:30pm

Hi.

I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.

We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.

I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.

I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.

I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.

Heres my number, 023387677

Love, Spencer.

Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.

You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.

You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.

You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.

“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’

Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.

Until you, until now.

He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.

He also checked his email a lot.

“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.

“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.

“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.

He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.

“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.

Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.

He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.

His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.

“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.

“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.

You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.

You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.

“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.

“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.

“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.

You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.

You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.

“But I am” You muttered.

“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.

“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.

“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.

You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.

“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.

“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.

And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.

When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.

Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.

Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.

He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.

He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.

There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.

Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.

The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.

He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.

Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.

You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.

What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.

You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.

“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.

your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.

you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.

“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.

Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.

When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.

Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.

“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.

Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.

He was in love.

He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.

“Hi” He whispered back.

You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.

You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.

You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.

“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.

“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.

The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.

“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.

“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.

His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.

Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.

He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.

You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.

“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.

This, right here, him, right now.

It was everything and more.

[acorviart]

Europe VAT laws not changing any time soon, recent. If understand FAQ well, mean shipping to Europe impossible for several years minimum?

That's correct, I won't be shipping to the EU for the foreseeable future due to some import packaging regulations that either have already been implemented or are planning to be implemented in the future.

Note that this is for EU countries only—I can ship to all other non-EU countries like Switzerland, except for the UK due to the UK's own convoluted VAT system.

The only workaround I can offer for EU folks is that you can have a friend or family that lives in a non-EU country place an order to deliver to their address, and then they are able to ship that order to you marked as a gift. Not an option for everyone, I know.

Longer explanation under the readmore for those curious:

As it stands now, each EU country has its own system and fees that I can't keep up with (for example, France would cost me 80 euros per year), I'd need to individually register and report to each country, some require reporting and tracking of what sources of packaging I use, I believe? It's all very complicated, and it makes my head spin just trying to figure out what the requirements actually are, so that's why I stopped shipping to the EU entirely out of an abundance of caution. I also just don't get enough sales to the EU to justify the headache, I'd probably actually lose money paying all the fees. Actually, while I was looking up details while writing this post, apparently there's a new PPWR that's going to replace the old EU Packaging Directive? This is why I can't handle this (ಥ﹏ಥ)

As for why this doesn't seem to be affecting all companies—corporations can obviously afford their own professionals whose entire job is to handle this stuff, and the requirements are also different for large vs small volumes. Meanwhile, a lot of other small or 1-person businesses straight up don't know about these requirements, because it's not like there's a memo passed around about updates to international shipping law. It's also even more confusing because some packages are slipping by without any issue, probably in part due to how the regulations are still new and still being implemented, so I assume it's kind of a mess.

I know of a few people who are willingly taking the risk and shipping to the EU anyway and have had no consequences (for now at least), but I'm not risking the fines ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now for the UK, their VAT system doesn't have anything to do with packaging, but what it does require is similar registration with the government, and I'm required to collect and pay the VAT myself. No thanks!

TLDR; laws hard. laws also expensive. too stupid to figure out and too fearful of fines. no ship to countries

fun story: someone also once emailed me this long diatribe about how they think I'm shit at research and that I'm just making all this up (specifically just to screw with europeans or something, I guess?), so I sent them a few links to the literal official government websites where I got my info (like that UK one), and they never responded. lol

[cobraaah]

Pairing• [Nauseaxe_404 ♡ Reader]

A/N• This took way longer than I wanted. Hopefully, it's not too long for you guys. It's not the best since I haven't written anything, let alone smut in a long time. Also not proofread. . Way too long. Also I dunno how to do warnings so be prepared I guess.

Warnings• Smut 18+, intentional injury, manipulation, slight blood?, axe usage ( not hurting reader), P in V, cunnilingus

Word count• 8k

Superstar

Desperate. Desperate for money of course! Recently you've been low on money, having bad impulsive buying habits on randome junk you didn't need. "A way to gain fast money!" Popped up on your laptop screen. Scrolling on suspicious and unsecured websites had its downsides. A grumbled sigh left you as you tried to click the ad off your screen. It didn't leave, it was like some sort of weird virus. . or something like that, you wernt the smartest tool in the shed when it came to computers. Your curiosity came over you, you did need some quick cash. Your morals went out the window, discarding the fact that you could get so many viruses, maybe even kidnapped! Your finger hovered hesitantly over the pad on your laptop. Deciding to get it over with quick, you click, closing your eyes for some reason, expecting a million more pop ups to show up, maybe a random guy breaking into your home to take you away. . but no. Your E-Mail opened up instead. Your eyes squint at the screen reading the new E-Mail that was sent to you. To you, it was all non important, besides a few key details, they read; "simple and does not require any particular skills or talents." , "50,000 dollars cash in total. Half will be sent to you in a few days, the other half will be at the job site." You paused for a second, re-reading the last part. Your eyes widen as your mouth gaped with a surprised grin. "Fifty K?!" You scanned the email over again, trying to convince yourself this isn't real, fortunately, it was. Deciding to actually read the email now the description talked about having to be a mediator, having to remove some tendents from a hotel of sorts. Seeing as they said it's simple and you don't need any special skills, this seemed as a easy way for you to earn some money. Red flags should've been popping up in your head but your lust and desperation for money took over. Quickly, you typed a E-Mail back accepting the offer, clicking send you sat back with a sigh. Now all you had to do was wait for half the money to be sent to you and-. "Wait a second.." You mumbled to yourself. With another quick re reading of the E-Mail they did say they were going to send half the money. . but how? "I never gave them my address or like. . anything?" With a sigh, you closed your laptop assuming that these ominous people from this sketchy ad had all your information already from your relentless visits to sketchy websites doing god knows what on them.

A few days have gone by since you've sent that e-mail accepting the suspicious job offer that you didn't even know was real to be honest. Currently looking up at the ceiling contemplating everything you've done at this point, we're you really that gullible? Thinking that someone would actually give you a-. . A loud crashing noise can be heard outside your room, heavy footsteps can be heard getting more faint until nothing. Frozen through the whole ordeal, you sit up after just laying there for who knows how long. Your eyes dart over to your door completely unsure about this whole thing, did someone really just break into your house? What if they were still inside?! A shiver runs through your body, goosebumps form on your arms at the thought. Getting up, you shuffle your way to your door cautiously incase the intruder was still there. With a creak of the door, your eyes dart everywhere not noticing anything out of place. Walking out of the hallway you notice a suitcase placed infront of your front door. "What the fuck.." Eyes squinting suspiciously at the case infront of you. Looking behind your shoulder before you crouch down and open the suitcase up.

Stacked upon stacks of hundred dollar bills are loaded in the case. Your mouth open slighty in disbelief at the sight, was this the twenty-five thousand?? Who ever your client is, they know where you live. Too overwhelmed by the amount of cash infront of you and the thought of some random from the internet knowing where you live, AND them actively breaking into your house, you shut the case. Staring surprised at it, you pick it up and walk back into your room carefully setting the briefcase next to your dresser. You get settled back into your bed opening your laptop having it rest on your lap. Just before opening up the web browser a pop up flashes on your screen, it has some address with the text underneath it reading "Arrive by 6 AM this monday, no backing out now." Oh. . oh. A small frown forms on your face at how threatening that last part was. Weighing the option of dipping with the twenty-five thousand dollars or suffer the consequences your client would serve to you if you didn't listen. . . you took the ladder. You take a screenshot of the address, saving it to your laptop for later. The pop up disappears a few moments later leaving you to the browser.

Scrolling on Dumblr, looking through random blogs, reading fanfics, the usual. Just as your finishing reading a blog the notification inbox pings. . . and pings repeatedly. "Jesus christ.." You mumbled under your breath. 'Swear to god, if this is the same guy-' Tapping on the inbox button you're welcomed by spammed comments by this guy named Nauseaxe_808. Now you would've been fine by this if it wasn't the same guy you've blocked hundreds of times for, number one being a creep, leaving obsessive comments. . and that's it. This guy just creeps you the hell out, everytime you block him he comes back with a new account with the same name but just different numbers added at the end, it started as Nauseaxe_404 to Nauseaxe_808.

At this point you've thought of just deleting your account since no one interacts with your blogs besides this weirdo. BUT thinking that if you did delete your account this sicko would win in his sick game. Of course at some point you started to feel bad for the guy, he seemed like a good person at some points when he wasn't leaving comments like, "I know where you live Superstar!", "Please notice me, I'm your BIGGEST fan!" Just super obsessive stuff. Did it make you feel wanted. . . yes. Should it? no. Are you delusional? maybe. Finger grazing over the mouse pad on the laptop, with a click on this guys profile and another click on the block button a sense of relief washes over you, but so does some regret creep up on you. All this guy wants is your attention and you keep on blocking him, maybe you should respond to him once. . . just once so you don't feel guilty about ignoring this guy, you'll just wait until the next time he makes a new account to respond with a simple 'Thanks.' and maybe he'll leave you alone, maybe just one response will make him stop. Is that a smart move to make against this online stalker? Not really, but common sense wasn't really that common to you anyways. You close the laptop with a sigh deciding today was eventful enough for you, too overwhelming in fact. Setting the laptop on the floor you get settled in your bed, deciding to get some sleep. Sleep quickly takes over, not realizing how exhausted you were. . .

Monday comes quicker than expected, unfortunately. Having to wake up way earlier than expected to go to this random ass location in the middle or the woods. Great! Sarcasticly you think to yourself as you follow the GPS on your phone, a small scowl appears on your face, rethinking your decisions. You dressed somewhat formal for this job, after all they are paying you fifty thousand dollars to be a mediator so you better belive it you're not gonna look homeless today. But having to wake up at five in the morning so you could make it on time didn't motive you that much to put that much effort in yourself. You did the basic for yourself and hoped that was good enough for this client of yours. The soft growl of your stomach interrupts your thoughts. You completely forgot to eat something before leaving due to being so nervous for this ominous, potentially dangerous job. Butterflies twisted your stomach like parasites as the destination neared closer, you felt like you were gonna throw up. You power through it though and turn on some music to calm your nerves and get your mind soothed. The sky still shone with the bright moon still out, the sun still sleeping. . . just like what you should be doing right now. You shake your head dismissing any negative thoughts about this job, you were gonna do fine. . right..? A soft groan leaves you as your mind keeps wondering and complaining about how stupid and unsafe this was for you to be doing.

Pushing away those thoughts, the cars headlights shine on a old looking hotel of sorts. Parking the car nearby you step out, the cold very early morning air hiting your skin almost like a warning, making the nerves on your body be on high alert once more. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you walk twords the hotel. Stepping on the wooden front steps, you're greeted with a briefcase and a walkie talkie placed near the front door. Bending down you open up the briefcase, marveling at how much money there's in it. . just like last time. Abruptly the walkie next to it chimes in, "Thank you for accepting this job offer! Now that you've accepted the full amount of cash, you can now begin the job." the walkie buzzes off as the guy stops talking. You're exciment was short lived as you realized you did have a job to do afterall, debts to pay, things to buy, and of course bills. You stand up with a stretch grabbing the radio and the briefcase. You put the case in the back of your car and walk back to the hotel, you feel unease, your body telling you this isn't a good idea, red flags should've be popping up in your head. But you're clouded with your need for money you trudge on and open up the front door, a loud creak resonates through the deathly quiet, empty lobby. As soon as you step inside the door quickly slams behind you leaving you in the dark for a quick second before the dim lights turn on. Two doors on either side of you and one big door in the middle presumably leading to the rest of the hotel. Each door has a different colour red, blue, yellow and finally purple.

The walkie talkie comes back to life, "Congratulations for making it this far, in all honestly youve made it farther than three quarters of our business partners from before. You seem reliable and more. . .entertaining. .," the voice goes quiet before buzzing back to life, "Anyways! Welcome to my hotel, just a small caution for your job today as a mediator, you'll be working with. .with monsters? Not really that important, anyways start with the red door!" The walkie quickly shuts off without anymore information about the 'monsters'. "W. . Wait?!" Your finger pressed the button on the side of the walkie, "What do you mean 'monsters'?" You question wide eyed into the walkie. . . you recive no response after a minute. You silently curse to yourself as you slowly approch the red labeled door that reads '001' in gold letters. You side eye the barricaded door and windows, realization finally sets in. You can't leave until you're finished with this job. With your attention back on the door you grip the handle and open it, quickly stepping inside.

The door slams behind you making you jump forward a bit, startled again by another door slamming behind you. You squint at the door suspiciously as you turn back around looking around. You step forward into the middle of the room, "Uhhmm. . . Hello?" You say hopefully loud enough for the resident to hear. Before you're able to take in the surroundings something hard hits the back of your head making your vision go black and fall unconscious, the last thing you're able to feel or even hear is "I've got you my. . Superstar," as you feel a pair of hands grab you a little too tight, keeping you from falling face first onto the floor.

A soft buzzing fills your mind as you slowly gain consciousness again. A soft groan escapes your throat as you sit up from the floor, your head hurts like hell. It appears you're in the same spot before you blacked out, it suprises you that youre still alive. As your vision gets unfuzzy there's a tall figure looming over you just. . . staring. "Uhm. . Hello..?" Your voice came out mumbled and quiet as you started back at the supposed monster infront of you, you can't make out what his face looks like due to his hood casting a dark shadow over his face and the red bandana covering the lower part of his face only making one of his eyes visible. In all honestly he doesn't really look like a monster besides his much taller height, but nothing else is distinguishable about him to classify him as a monster.

"I can't belive we can finally meet. . .-" Heavy breathing can be heard coming from him, almost could be distinguished as panting. "-Face to face..," His eyes squint, under that bandana he most likely has a sinister unsettling grin on his face. Just at the thought makes you cringe, internally of course, scared to make any negative reaction could have percussions. You finally register what he said after a moment, your mind trying to catch up with everything, adrenaline spiked a little out of fear, "Do I know. . you?" Your eyes squint suspiciously at the man infront of you, legs moving on their own, you stand up, leaning against the door behind you. The height difference didn't change at all, he was still much. . . much taller than you. Standing at roughly about two meters tall, your eyes widen in shock at the size difference between you both. 'What the hell was this guy?', 'Is he actually a monster?' , 'ARE MONSTERS EVEN REAL?'. Multiple thoughts swarmed your head like bees, are you going crazy? Shaking your head you averted your attention back to the guy infront of you. . He's still staring with his ecstatic squinted eyes, great.

"Of course you know me Superstar, I'm your biggest fan," You froze, goosebumps automatically formed on your skin as you heard that nickname. 'Superstar', could this really be the guy from Dumblr. . .? The air in the room seemed to get thick, making it hard for you to breath. Your hands get sweaty, a shudder runs through your spine. This 'thing' was your stalker. With heightened sense you realize that he's holding an axe. 'Holy fuck he's gonna kill me, I'm dead... im dead... im dead'. Those two words repeat in your head, frozen in fear. With your eyes fixated on the axe he begins to speak again. "Sorry for knocking you out, I thought you were one of those 'pests' who try to break into my room! It's become a habit for me to automatically attack anyone who enters. Good thing i realized it was 'you', my Superstar! Or else you woulve gotten. . . seriously injured." He cocks his head to the side, confused on your spaced out, deer caught in headlights facial expression, not realizing youre staring at the axe.

Responding in a meekly way, "I... It's okay.," Being super freaked out by the fact he could've killed you if he didn't recognized you sent a shock through you. A sudden laugh breaks you out of your trance as your eyes dart back to his face, you realize he's laughing. "PHAHAHAHA!" Being the awkward person you are, nervous and emotionally broken already, in fear he might attack you again, you awkwardly laugh along. "Hah... hahaha.." Your laughs come out more quietly than you wanted them, but he doesn't seem to care. But seriously, you have questions, you need to figure out how to cooperate with this monster and convince him to leave the hotel, afterall you do have a job to do.

Bringing up the courage to yourself to speak as he finally stops laughing, his squinted eyes turning back to their normal predatory gaze. "Are you by chance Nauseaxe_404...?" Raising an eyebrow already knowing the answer, but wanting confirm your suspicions. You see his eyes squint happily with admiration. "Yes! You don't know how long I've waited to finally talk to you, I've tried messaging you on Dumblr but you kept on blocking me.." His voice trailed off slightly, making you feel unease. Both his hands grip on the axe tightend as his breath became labored again. "You. . . You didn't block me on purpose. . hah . . Right?" His red eye glared at you with a subtle twitch, was he really that naive? Did he not realize he was a total creep when leaving those comments on your blogs? "Uh. . Of course not! It's probally some weird Dumblr glitch.." You don't sound sure at all, or even confident, but it was good enough for Nause. His grip on the axe loosened until only he eas holding onto it with one hand, and his shoulders slacked. He blinked and his eye went back to normal as he stood up semi straight again, still a bit hunched over.

"Heheh yeah. I guess it was, haha..," He paused, rubbing his neck. "Well then, what brings you here my Superstar?" He questioned, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, you weren't quite sure how to read him, he was unpredictable. "You need to like. . . leave?" You tried putting it in simple terms in hopes he won't lash out on you. You start feeling unnerved and decide to glance around, all this direct eye contact with him is making you more nervous. Taking in the view around you, you see presumably stapled or tacked printed out pages of writings of some blog? Not just a normal blog, fanfics. . . Holy crap. This guy has been printing off every single one of your posts and sticking them to his walls. He really IS your biggest fan. . . in more appropriate terms 'He really IS a stalker, creep, weirdo, a loser with no life!', gulping at the thought, thankfully your attention is directed back to Nause as he starts speaking again.

"Why 'would' I want to leave?! I have no idea how I got here in the first place. . . but I still have no intentions on leaving." His voice trails off with the hint of festering agitation. Small huffing can be heard from him again, he grips his axe infront of him. You accidently worked him up again, seemed like that was somehow a touchy question, flip. Mentally cursing to yourself you connect the few braincells in your head that haven't fried yet and come up with a excellent plan on how to deal with this freak.

"H. . How about I write a uhm..-" You paused, are you really gonna make the proposition of writing a fanfic for him in exchange for his leave. Yeah. "-If I write you a 'fanfic'. . or something since you seem to enjoy them. . . a lot..," Mumbled as your eyes glance back to the walls full of printed out pictures of your blogs. "If I do that will you please leave this hotel?" Silently pleading, praying, hoping to the man in the sky that he'll accept this offer so you can hurry up and finish this job. His body begins to shake with. . you don't even know at the moment. His eye curves with excitement you presume. "Really? Just for me right? No one else?!" Before you're able to respond he continues, "Could you maybe write them here? Or at least one? I have a old typewriter just incase for this one specific moment I fantasized about fivehundredseventytwothousandeighhundrednintyhundrendedquadrillion times!" You should be surprised but at this point you just want to be done.

"Sure... Sure yeah.." You mumbled with squinted eyes, hoping he wasn't going to make you stay here forever writing endless stories for him. You follow him into a room that has a desk with a laptop and a wooden chair. . . That must be uncomfortable for him, sitting at this desk for how many hours a day, stalking your blog with the shitty hotel wifi, life must suck for this dude no wonder why he's like this. Shaking your head at that absurd intruding thought you eye the chair, is that really what you're gonna have to sit on? Walking over, you sit down. Nause grabs the type writer from a box in the corner of the room, he pushes the laptop to the side and replaces it with the typewriter. He looms behind you, waiting for you to start typing. "Anything. . specific you want me to write?" Quickly you begin to regret the decision of giving him the option to choose what you write. "What about one about me and. . ." You can quite literally feel his breath huffing down on you, his grip on the old chair makes a soft cracking noise at how tight he's holding onto it. "Y. . yeah! Of course!" You quickly say not wanting to hear what else he has to say..., also scared he's gonna hurt you on accident from how worked up he got. Your attention goes back on the type writer, fingers tap against the keys writing whatever comes to your mind.

"Can you make it long....? Like at the minimum one hundred pages maybe?" Your fingers freeze on the keys. "one. . ONE HUNDRED?!" Your eyes widen as you tilt your head up to look at him, his gaze is still unrelenting as ever. "Yes! Since I'm getting a 'real', authentic work of art from you personally. . . I need it to be long.. It needs to take me more than one sitting to read it! PAHAHAHAHA." Who the hell does the guy think he is. "Sure. ." You're cooked, you've only manged to write stories with at the maximum two thousand words, and now you have to achieve like what. . fifty thousand words? Hopefully- "Can you start writing? Sorry to press but you've been looking up at me for a minute now. .NOT that I don't mind. . . pahahahahahaha," Your head slowly tilts back down defeated, no way in hell you can write this much in one sitting, and having to do it sitting on this uncomfortable ass chair and someone watching every word you type. Deciding to lock in with that grindset mindset you begin typing, fingers grazing over the keys as you tap away. With Nause not injecting in every second you're able to actually write.

You've managed to successfully write a solid ten pages. You slump forward dejected. How the actual fuck are you going to finish this. Already ran out of ideas and your ass starting to hurt from the wooden chair. You shift with a soft groan, having completely forgotten about the monster looming right behind you. You jump forward, startled at the sudden voice behind you, tilting your head to see him. "How's it going Superstar? Is the chair treating you well enough PHAHAHAHA." The nerve on this guy. You give him a deadpanned stare before turning your head to face the type writer again. "It's great. Thank you very much..," Sarcasm laced your voice, a small laugh can be heard behind you then in a swift movement Nause picks you up and places you on his lap as he sits down on the chair that 'might' be a little too small for him. Your body tenses up in his grasp as his hands lay comfortably around your waist, keeping you in place. Small huffing can be heard behind you. "You can relax Superstar, I won't be hurting you...yet. phahahahahahahah. . . hah.."

How ominous! You slowly begin typing again, trying to calm your breathing or just yourself in general. But it seems like Nause isn't letting you get anywhere near finishing that damn story. He keeps on poking and prodding you with injections on what you should put in the story. "How about you make me a love interest? Make it where me and you.." His labored breathing starts up again, his grip on you tightening but he doesn't seem to care at your attempts for him to stop. "Y. . Yeah! Okay!" You quickly verbally agree to this idea instead of nodding to his other ones since this one seems to twist something inside him. Gross. His grip slowly loosens as you quickly begin writing again about him and you doing more intimate things like couples would do, but nothing too drastic.

Nause gets more comfortable as your fingers press against the keys, it seems like the noise lulls him to some extent. Was this part of one of his fantasies he's had with you? You start to feel kinda bad for the dude, he's way too obsessed with you. . a nobody. How could someone like this find you alluring? You cautiously lean back into him, oddly finding comfort in this situation. You hear his heavy breathing audibly hitch at the sudden adjustment. His arms snake around your waist completely, entraping you for good now. Not that you were complaining, it felt nice.. and comforting, in a more underlying sickening way. You shouldn't be comfortable around this guy, he's your stalker after all, in all reality did you even know anything about him besides his crippling obsession over you? No, no you didnt, you should be pushing him away but the fear, the fear of him hurting you made you stay in his lap. In the back of your mind you knew how wrong this was, how wrong it was for you to find a small twing of comfort with this sadistic monster. Maybe your desperation, the feeling of finally feeling wanted in your life, finding someone who actually wanted to be by you?

These thoughts made you feel revolted. You were actually feeling disgusted with yourself right now. A sickening feeling wrapped into your stomach, why were you trying to find some light in this situation? Was it to try and manipulate yourself into thinking that you're fine with all of. . this? You've never met anyone like this before. Never seen a person so obsessed. . devoted with you, you didn't want this, not at all. This guy is dangerous, he's unstable, and extremely unpredictable. You 'shouldnt' want this, but knowing that it's wrong only makes you crave it more. When you’re not used to attention, anything feels romantic. The way his arms are wrapped around your body as you try to focus on writing the story infront of you make you feel completed in a way. Nauses chipper voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Can you start to write the more heated stuff now? Just like in your old posts? Can you write about how you and I. ." He begins to list off in very detailed scenarios between you both. You sit there and listen to him talking non stop, you don't even think he took a break to breath. As he continues to rant about multiple of his fantasies that you should write about his grip on you gets tighter. . . and tighter to the point where it feels like he's going to break your ribs.

You yelp. Pathetically, you try to pry his hands off of you but it doesn't work. Realization sets in that he doesn't realize his death grip he has on you. You tilt your head to see him and his gaze is glossed over as he continues to ramble on about his weird fantasies. You look around the room and see that his axe is near the door, too far away to grab.You slowly lose hope, is this how you die, by the hands of your obessor? A cracking noise is what makes him stop. Your breathing chokes as you feel a sudden shot of pain near your chest. 'Did. . did he just break my rib..?' "S..SUPERSTAR? Superstar are you okay?" His voice is laced with faux worry, but you're too out of it to realize, your eyes are glued to where you felt the pain. Multiple thoughts rush through head about the pain, what were you even going to do? Nause picking you up is what breaks you out of the trance. "I think I broke your rib! PHAHAHA." Your eyebrows furrow at his laughing. He didn't seem to feel any remorse or guilt for hurting you. . . you should've known. You're a fool to have thought you felt secure next to him.

The sudden shift in surroundings jolts you out of the haze of pain and fear, as Nause carries you into a different room. The air feels heavier here, suffused with a sense of foreboding that sends shivers down your spine. The mattress beneath you feels cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth you once sought in his twisted embrace.As your gaze wanders around the room, you are met with a display of walls adorned with an array of photographs capturing moments of your life, each one a piece of your personal history frozen in time. Surrounding you are intimate details about your existence, laid bare for Nause to see, creating a tapestry of memories and revelations that paint a vivid portrait of your identity, your life. You can't help but feel like a trapped bird, ensnared in a web woven by a predator whose intentions grow darker with each passing moment.

Nause reappeared after a brief moment, holding a small, sleek black container in his hands. As he places it beside you, his tall figure looms over, casting a shadow that seems to engulf the room. "Superstar, may I have a look at where it hurts?" he asks, his one visible eye gazing at you with an innocent curiosity. Feeling a mix of apprehension, you nod hesitantly mumbling unsure "S. . Sure," propping yourself up with your elbows. Slowly, you lift your shirt, revealing the area where your ribs are already bruising. Nause opens the container, revealing its contents - soft gauze and a cold ice pack, promising relief from the pain that gnaws at you. He begins to slowly wrap the ice pack with gauze around the side where your rib was broken, the coldness makes your body shudder and goosebumps form on your skin. His movements are carefully slow, as if he's doing it on purpose. As you finally begin to come down from your shock of how much pain you were in, soft labored breathing can be heard next to you. You wonder how long he's been like that, was him bandaging you up really making him act up. . again?

With a nervous gaze, you watch as his hands slowly guide the gauze just under chest, his eyes were trained on your exposed flesh. You cringe slighty as you notice, is that what was really bothering him? Seeing half your torso exposed? "Did you know this was one of my scenarios I've thought of before?!" Nauses somehow chipper voice rings through the quiet room. Holy fuck, he broke your rib on purpose. This revolution makes your body shudder with disgust? Anger? You couldn't really tell at the moment. "Oh. . Oh really. ." You mumbled out under your breat, distaste laced your . Nause finishes up bandaging you up and sets the container on the floor next to the bed. You quickly pull your shirt down with the energy you have left. You lay back down on the dingy bed now just feeling how tired. . exhausted you were. A sigh leaves you as your hands rub against your face, leaving them there for a second before letting then fall to your sides.

Frustration boiled inside you. This job was suppost to be quick and easy, you wernt prepared for this, for 'any' of this. This was most likely some sort of trap from your client. He set you up for failure. "Superstar, you should really get some rest. You still need to finish writing my one hundred pages story!" Your tired eyes glanced over to him, his towering frame made you feel small, pathetic. "Yeah. . goodnight.." You managed to muster out, turning around so your back faced him. Pulling the blanket up to your face, nuzzling into it. Sleep quickly came over to you. Should it worry you that he's watching you sleep? Yeah, and should you be on guard? Probally, but you've lost hope. You never really had a chance in the first place, did you?

A soft groan left your throat as you woke up, the pain from your broken rib quickly reminding you where you were. Rolling over on your back with a yawn you almost choke on your breath as you see Nause still standing over the bed. . watching you. "Were you there. . . all night?" You question him with a raised brow, you were seriously concernedfor this guy. "Of course! I had to make sure my Superstar was safe!" Of course, what more did you expect from him. You hiss out in pain as you sit up. "Can I get like an advil or something?" Your hand holds the spot where the now semi cold ice pack sits, you don't bother telling him about the temperature of it, you don't want to risk him overwhelming himself again and hurting you. . again. He seems to pause for a second, letting out an unsure noise. "I don't really have anything like that here. .The only reason I got that ice pack and stuff for you was from one of my neighbors. ." Sheepishly he rubbed the back of his neck his eye twitched with agitation, you wondered about why he couldn't just go over next door and ask for some pain meds but you didn't wanna pester him about it, he didn't seem to have the best relationship with the other residents here.

"BUT! To take your mind off of the pain you can continue writing!" Oh right, you still had to write about fifty more pages for his psychotic fanfic about you both. With the typewriter on standby he carefully sets it in your lap, to your suprise it wasn't as heavy as you thought it would be. Leaning back on the adjusted pillows behind you, you began writing. Deciding to cheap your way out, you typed every word with doubled letters to make the pages fill out quicker. After awhile, you were able to make the pages filled out faster than normal, but you quickly ran out of ideas. "Do you 'really' need a hundred pages? Im running out of ideas. Can't these perfectly crafted fifty pages be go-," Nause quickly cuts you off. "NO! I NEED those one hundred pages. I need. . . hah. ." His voice trails off as his breathing starts to get harder. In a swift motion he yanks his axe out, his grip tight on the handle, his eyes clouded with god knows what as he glares at you.

"Y. . Yeah! Of courseee..." You quickly agree scared of the axe welding monster infront of you. His grip slowly falters as his breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments. "PAHAHAHA. . HAH.. I know how to help you!" Your expression quickly dropped, what could he mean by that? He could do litteraly anything to 'help' you, what he thinks could be 'help' could be the complete opposite to you. Multiple ideas infected your head, multiple terrible ideas, you were terrified on what he was about to do. "Since you need inspiration how about I help get your little mind in gear again!" His hand pulled down his bandana showing his sinister grin that laced his face, his sharp teeth gleamed in the dimly lit bedroom. "PHAHAHA!" He began to hysterically laugh again as he crawled onto the bed with you, on top of you. "W. . wha . ." The words you want to get out in protest, to question what he's about to do, they get stuck in your throat from fear. All you can do is stare up at him petrified with wide eyes, mouth agap.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this. .!" His eye gleamed down at you happily, in his sick twisted mind this way his way of helping you. After a moment of him just looking at you and you not giving a response, his head tilted to the side in confusion. His expression turned to one of a kicked puppy, his once toothy grin frowned. "What's the matter? Why arnt you excited? Isn't this what you've wanted?" He questioned looking confused, and a little heart broken. "I've read all your stories and one of them sounds just like this! A tall, handsome, good looking monster with an axe gets with you. I already know that the story was about me, the description matches. So. . . isn't this what you want?" You freeze, did you actually write something like that? You don't remember at all, you begin to doubt his truthfulness and think he made that up on the spot just to try and manipulate you. But, another thought did cloud your mind. When in your whole life are you going to get another chance to fuck a monster? You start to see the appeal of him, his grey skin, sinister gaze, size difference, and the fact he could kill you? A whole package deal to be honest.

"I. . I guess." Reluctantly you agree, if there's a chance you're going to die, you'll die happy. You wince under his gaze, his eyes squint happily once more as his toothy grin appears again. "Great! Even if you said no I was going to anyways!" He admits nonchalantly, what did you expect, of course he would. "Now let's get those creative gears in your head flowing with endless ideas!" His voiced changed into a slutry tone as his gaze clouded with undying lust. With his head lowered and his face just inches from yours, you can see a long, black tongue slithering out of his mouth. A soft gasp leaves your mouth at the sight, at the opportunity Nause connects his mouth with yours. His tongue snaked into your mouth, causing you to let out a choked gasp. He then left you with a sated moan as his tongue roamed around in your mouth. His hands creeped under your shirt, his rough fingers pawed at the exposed flesh of your sides, seemingly trying to ground himself.

As his knee forcefully inserted itself between your thighs rubbing against you, it felt divine. A choked whimper left your lips at the feeling, you don't even remember the last time someone was this intimate with you, it was making you feel light headed. . . No it wasn't because of that, it was the fact that Nause wasn't budging when you needed air, now. Your eyes shot open as your hands relentlessly pushed and pathetically punched against his chest, he was unmoving. With your vision starting to blur you resorted to your last idea, your hand moved down to his crotch and roughly squzzed. A low moan left his mouth as he pulled back from you panting heavily. "PHAHAHAHA. Superstar. . hah.," He stares down at your hand, licking his lips before reaching down and grabbing it. His large hand wrapped around your wrist pushing your hand harder onto him.

A low satisfied groan leaves him as he ruts against your hand. "N. .Nause..," You spoke barley above a whisper, your eyes were glued to the scene infront of you, his large clothed cock rubbing against your hand. Fuck, there's no way that was fitting inside you in anyway. "Superstar. ." His eyes never left your face. "I. . wait a second, how did it go again.." He mumbled more to himself as he took his hand off of yours and searched his pockets. After a moment he took a piece of carefully folded paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, his eyes scanned the page. "Nause. . . what is that." You could already assume it was one of your fictive stories. "It's one of my favorite pieces by you! I just forgot how it went. . bear with me for a moment Superstar. . .!" His voice trailed off twords the end as he concentrates on re freshing his memory up on supposedly what he wants to do. "Aha! Now get ready for a once in a life time experience. . . PAHAHAHAHA." He shoves the paper back into his pocket, his predatory gaze looks down at your lower abdomen. His fingers quickly did work of your pants tugging them off and discarding them on the floor.

His breathing begins to get labored again and if pupils could have heart eyes that's what he would have right now. "Finally. .!" He gets situated inbetween your thighs, now laying on his stomach, his head resting on the inner of your thigh and his callused fingers lazily tracing along the already damp clothed slit of your entrance. In a swift sudden motion he pulls his axe out from his back, holding onto the butt of the axe he slowly cuts off your underwear. Your body freezes as you stare down at him with wide, scared, yet desperate eyes. Maybe him using the axe turned you on, just a little bit. His axe hovered over the bare skin of your thighs, he seemed lost in a trance as he traced light lines above your skin.

"N. .Nause?!" Catiously you warned him with a slight waver in your tone, scared he was actually going to cut you. "PAHAHAHAHA. . . HAH.. Sorry." He haphazardly tosses the axe off the side of the bed, a thud resonates in the room from the heavy axe. "Now where were we!?" He stares at you briefly before redirecting it down to your exposed cunt. His fingers traced along your folds, letting his fingers get drenched in your slick. With his mouth hovering over your clit, he experimentally takes a long lick on it. You squirm at the feeling, thighs instinctively wanting to close, his free hand holds onto one of your thighs making sure you're spread open for him. His two fingers quickly pump in and out of you as his tongue circles and softly sucks on your clit. The obscene squeltch of your pussy sends a blush across your face, with his relentless bullying of his fingers in you, curling up into every time he pushed them in. Your hips jerked as you felt the familiar feeling of your high building up in your stomach.

Soft pants filled the room as you neared your peak, your hands gripped onto Nauses head pushing him more into you, the feeling of his tongue swirling around on you became too much. A soft moan left your mouth as you clenched around his fingers, coating them with your cum. The low groan that left Nause vibrated against you, causing your hips to jerk slighty due to the stimulation. "PAHAHA. Did I do good Superstar?" He asked teasingly while sucking hard on your clit. "Mmphh.." Is all you manage to reply from the overstimulation. Nause leans back after a moment, allowing you to catch your breath. "Now let's get to the real show! HAH. ." His unerving grin never leaving his face as he undoes the clasp of his grayish belt, quickly yanking his pants down discarding them on the floor.

You're now able to see his clothed member strained against the confines of his briefs, there's a wet spot near his tip from how much pre cum he's leaking. Your eyes widen at just how big he is again realizing that there's no way he's gonna be able to fit all of that in you. "Feeling nervous? PAHAHAHA. You look so cute when you're scared. . hehe..!" His hands grab at your shirt ripping it off of you, then unclasping your bra leaving you completely nude underneath him. His hands find there way to your chest and paw at your breast's, taking in the nip inbetween his fingers and tweening it. The noises filling in the room are your soft whines and whimpers and Nauses concerning hard breathing. "Nause. ." You mewl out impatiently. "Sorry! They're just so soft..HAH..heh.." He pinches them once more before pulling off his briefs. With him now exposed he grabbed the back of your thighs hastily, pushing them up to your chest.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this!" With his neurotic gaze set on yours he roughly pushes himself inside, pained whimpers filled the room as tears filled the corners of your eyes. The sudden intrusion with no warning did not prepare you at all. He's only able to stuff about half of himself inside you due to his size. You guess due to him being freakishly tall with a huge build he was bound to have a big cock. "So small.." He mutters with a groan into your neck. "All mine. ." He pulls out and slowly ruts back in clumsy, your gummy walls desperately try to adjust to his size. With each thrust, his movements get harsher, more needy, all consuming. With his face nuzzled into your neck, you feel something slick slither around your neck before a quick shot of pain envelopes on your shoulder.

Nause bites rather harshly, letting his teeth sink in just enough to draw blood. His tongue laps up the blood eagerly, you can feel his dick throb inside you as he gets closer to his release. His hand moves down and his rough thumb sloppily rubs circles on your clit, a choked moan leaves you at the overwhelming sensations. You thought he would be talking this whole time but he seems too caught up in the feeling to care. With his thrusts getting more sloppy and the pleasure building up in your stomach becoming too much, you clench around Nauses cock, closing your eyes at the feeling letting out a moan as you ride out your climax. Shortly after Nause rocks his hips into a few more times before shoving himself back in roughly. You shudder at the feeling of him filling you up, harsh breaths fill your ears as he's gripping onto you like you'll leave.

He stays on top of you, holding onto you as his cock slowly softens inside of you. He pulls out, laying beside you, his arms hugging you from behind, face comfortably nuzzled in your hair, taking in the scent. The feeling is comforting, as you hear his breathing soften behind you sleep begins to lull you. You sleep comfortably in Nauses arms, the dread of having to write those pages and the task of removing Nause from this room leaves your mind as sleep over takes you. The pain of your rib being forgotten, that was going to be a pain when you woke up.

[idlerin]

love sick — 08. we can be friends

romance 101; ideal partner #9 — someone i feel safe around

email from yesterday evening

you didn’t want to think terushima was a bad person, exactly.

semi and atsumu would look at you judgingly if you ever said that out loud in front of them, but it was the truth. terushima lacked self-awareness, he was a do or die person, which meant he acted before he thought. which wasn’t good at all, for him or anyone else he decided to bother, and he needed serious correcting, but that should’ve been the job of the people who raised him. he was the textbook definition of man-child.

“babe!” terushima exclaimed, looking genuinely happy to see you. looking over his shoulder, his dyed blonde hair reminds you of atsumu in this moment, who you spot laughing maniacally with jai—clearly too occupied to notice your little situation.

you decide to accept your fate and look up at terushima, “oh, hi,” you greet back awkwardly. you were restless, gaze focusing on your peripheral vision and hoping to spot the person you were looking for so you could grab him and go back to his team.

“I knew i’d find you here,” terushima grinned, proud of himself, “you’re not usually at places like these but i figured since you’re dating that suna dude you’d be here, and i was right!”

“ah yeah,” you nodded, stepping back to hopefully avoid the conversation entirely, “nice running into you—” not, “but i was actually on my way to look for—,” you were cut off before you could say rin.

“your boyfriend?” terushima smirked, it was weird in a way as if he knew something you didn’t, “saw him outside with some chick, I told you babe, he’s no good.”

your mouth hung in slight, you don’t recall suna saying he was seeing someone. in fact, the reason he started this with you was because he was trying to get away from people fawning over him. that didn’t make any sense, so it was probably just someone suna knew and terushima was taking it the wrong way. you guessed that was probably why suna took so long, he could’ve at least texted you.

you shake away the thought and focus on terushima obviously trying very hard to bad-mouth rin, brows furrowing, “that’s probably just his friend.”

“they didn’t look friendly,” terushima clicked his tongue, “i’m telling you, he’s being a bad boyfriend.”

“i’d rather talk to rin about it,” you offered him a small smile, you watched as his expression turned sour.

“why can’t you just believe me?” he practically whines.

your smile becomes strained, “i think i’ll just go and look for rin now,” you try to sidestep him but terushima grabs your wrist.

“talk to me more for a bit,” terushima says, gaze heavily focused on you “he’s still busy out there.” “i told you,” tone hardening, eyeing your wrist he held onto tightly, “i’d rather check on him and ask now,” you attempt to tug your wrist away from his grip.

in the middle of successfully doing so, you bump into someone. you were about to apologize but then this person spoke over you, “i was looking for you, sweets,” your eyes widened for a bit realizing it was the person you’d been looking for, of course he decided to show up now, you think how cliché and typical it was.

you look up at him, his jaw set just as he wraps an arm around your waist, “who’s this?” it took a second before realizing he was talking about terushima who was still in front of you both.

“i’m terushima, [name]’s friend,” terushima nods at him, answering for himself and giving suna a big fake smile.

“does she know that?” suna mumbles, something only you heard, making your lips twitch. his hand on your waist pulling you closer towards him.

“what?” terushima asked before shaking his head, “whatever man, if you don’t mind, she and i were talking.”

“i mind,” suna says, looking bored of this already, “we’re going.”

terushima looked dumbfounded, clearly not used to suna’s straightforwardness. terushima couldn’t utter another word before suna was already pushing you forward and away from him.

suna leans down, whispering in your ear, “thought you had no crazy ex?”

“i don’t,” you sigh, troubled, “he just… bothers me.”

suna didn’t take that very well, “and you don’t do anything?” he looked down at your wrist pointedly.

“it’s fine,” you say instead, smiling to placate him, “thank you, though.”

suna bites his inner cheek, ultimately deciding to leave the topic online, “i didn’t get to get your water, i was…” he was looking for the right word, “preoccupied.”

“terushima told me he saw you with someone outside,” you confess, looking at him to see any signs of anything, suna was still really hard to read, “he was saying it as if you were ‘cheating’ on me,” you whispered this part, “it would be bad if he tattled, but i don’t think he will.”

“how are you so sure?” suna doesn’t deny what terushima saw.

“he’s trying to make it up to me somewhat,” you offer that same old small smile of yours, “he wouldn’t intentionally do something that might damage my reputation or something after he uh did it before.”

“alright,” suna chooses not to question you further about terushima which you were thankful for, “can we leave now?”

“it hasn’t been an hour yet,” you check your phone, it’s only been around forty minutes.

“do you want to stay for longer?” suna moves you away from a drunk person passing by, still holding your waist.

“not really,” you say, it didn’t seem like suna was in the mood to be here too and you think you’ve won over his teammates already and showed off your relationship enough.

“we can go and get some yakitori, it’ll make up for your water,” suna offers, to your surprise. you thought he’d just want to drop you off and be alone.

“sure,” you agree, albeit still a little confused with the way he’s been acting all night.

suna nodded before leading you back to his teammates, saying your goodbyes. they didn’t question you leaving early, maybe suna has a habit of doing that? you explicitly tell atsumu to not injure himself going home. suna interrupted saying that bad weeds never die so you didn’t have to worry. it didn’t take long before the both of you were back in his car.

“i wasn’t ‘cheating’ by the way,” suna says after he settles in, starting the engine.

you arrange your bag on your lap nicely, “i didn’t think you were, rinnie bear.”

suna shakes his head, “at least you know i’m loyal.”

“what can i say? i know how to choose them right,” you shrug, grinning. this, this was easy, pretending like everything was completely fine. you were worried about his mood, the mystery person he talked to for twenty or so minutes, and him in general but you had no right to force your questions on him.

you haven’t known suna for long but you guessed he wouldn’t take it kindly if you asked about things that were none of your business. you didn’t know what was happening to suna, but you’d wait for him to reach out to you first. these past several days have made you kind of friends, after all.

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

[name] forced her friends to be on locket and airbuds with her.

sakusa was also decidedly not at the party because he was catching up on some papers (good excuse to not go).

atsumu doesn’t really drink frequently (just when he knows there’s no important tournaments upcoming bc he’s locked in on volley)

you can send your love stories or woes at letterwithlove.name@gmail.com and receive a reply :)

how to send a letter?

email letterwithlove.name@gmail.com and receive a reply from [name]

you can choose to have your email featured in the story or not and will still receive a reply! — for those who wish to have their emails featured simply leave the subject as is — for those who DO NOT wish to have their emails featured put the subject in [brackets like this]

if you ever choose to have your email thread featured, i will change your gmail for privacy in actual posting! you can choose the name to sign off with :3

this is in no way a professional thing, it's for fun so you guys can send in a made up story or something based on real life stuff but i will always respond seriously as “reader” and the best way i can :)

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — partially doing the email thing bc its getting hard to think of scenarios PLEEK JEDOEKDJ i mean i still can… i base them off irl or books ANYWAYS ill try to grind as many chaps as i can before school starts (keyword: try) bc like i am brewing smth up also also will close the taglist soon!!

taglist is OPEN ! + (1/3) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep

if i can not tag you, please change your mention settings to “everyone” thank you!

[theabigailthorn]

Hi, I don't know if this has been asked a lot but I'd like to know how you deal with the transfobia without getting really sad constantly? I have come to the conclusion that I'm trans but struggle with the fear of transfobia to the point I'm thinking I shouldn't actually transition or even dress the way that would make me comfortable because the fear of being seen as trans is making me unconfortable anyways.

It does still upset me greatly sometimes, like when it happens in person or when it comes from people who wield actual power, or if the transphobia comes in the form of denying me something I need, like healthcare.

But when it's just anonymous people on the internet sending me hate, I guess I've learned from experience that their ability to affect my life is actually quite minimal. Like, "Oh no, @CarolBunchOfNumbers thinks my face looks manly? Well, I have a job I love and friends who support me so, who cares what she thinks!" (To be clear, I'm both lucky and privileged in that regard!)

Also, I've been on the Internet for 11 years - I've dealt with WAY worse than the average TERF. During the B**k A***l saga I had people trawling through my old videos looking for things my abuser said to me to repeat back, I had people signing my email address up to weight loss subscriptions to trigger my eating disorder, I've been libelled - like actually criminally libelled and accused of the worst sorts of crimes people can commit - so many times. And @CarolBunchOfNumbers thinks she can upset me with some thought-terminating-cliché about chromosomes or some shit? Please. My haters are of a higher class than Carol can even conceive of.

[janeyseymour]

Hey so I was wondering if you could do a fic about a Melissa X daughter reader where we start working at the school and nobody catches on that we are Melissa’s daughter and the keep putting the pieces together until they finally get it. Maybe something like where Janine and Jacob go to Melissa’s house for cooking lessons and we are just like there and that’s how they find out. Or alternative idea where we are Melissa’s daughter and we start dating someone from Abbott like Ava or Janine and how that would play out. Sorry that’s a lot. Thanks

Relatively Related

written in the midst of the week before spring break and hoping that it isn't absolute trash :)

WC: ~2.5k

Growing up with Melissa Schemmenti for a mother, you saw what it was like being a teacher. You grew up hearing the horror stories that came with being a teacher in a center city school in Philadelphia, and you knew the horrors of growing up in a different part of Philly and going to that neighborhood school. While she didn’t much mind what you did with your life, she had always thought you would be a good teacher. And when you decided to go to college for education at West Chester University, she knew Abbott would take you in a heartbeat. It didn’t even matter that you were her daughter and she was quite the accredited teacher- West Chester’s name had enough to secure you a job anywhere in Philly that you wanted. You had vehemently denied working at her home away from home for quite some time, and yet here you were, with a bit of nudging from your mother, interviewing to become the new third grade teacher at Abbott Elementary. 

“C’mon, hun,” she had sighed over dinner a few weeks ago. “I think if you would give it a shot, you would like it… I know Abbott ain’t no suburban school, but it’s a hell of a lot better than some of the places you’ve applied.”

“I just don’t want people thinking I got the job because you’re my mom,” you tell her truthfully through a mouthful of ziti.

“Y/N, if you wanted the job, I could get it for you without an interview.”

“Isn’t that essentially what would happen if I applied and checked off that I have family within the district?”you challenge as you raise a brow.

She rolls her eyes. “You act like they actually look at resumes. Please, they’ll take pretty much anyone who has a pulse and a certification… how you think I got stuck with Darlene as a part of my team?”

“I guess.”

“And besides, you have your father’s last name… how are they gonna know you’re my daughter if you don’t have my last name?”

You have to admit, she’s right. So you send in your resume. And two days later, you receive an email saying that they’d like to see you for an interview. 

Your interview is practically a joke, and you’re offered a job on the spot. That night, Melissa and her work wife Barbara take you out for dinner.

“To Abbott’s newest member of the team,” Barbara makes a toast to you. “May it take you far in life.”

That was three years ago, and since then a lot has changed. A new principal has come in, there’s been a massive turnover in teachers, and you find yourself as a first grade teacher now. The only thing that hasn’t changed? The only one who knows you’re true identity at the school besides you and your mother is that Melissa Schemmenti is your mother. 

This year, a few new teachers start: Jacob Hill as the eighth grade social studies teacher, and Janine Teagues as the other second grade teacher.

And as much as your mother loves to rip on new coworkers of yours, you find yourself quite drawn to both of them. Sure, they’re a little nosey and love to hear all of the new gossip and find all of the deep secrets that are hidden in the walls of this old bomb shelter turned elementary school, but you like them. They haven’t found you out, not that you or Melissa really care, but it’s quite nice to have that little bubble around the two of you. 

They’ve come close though. Like the time that it came about that you share a name with Melissa’s daughter- who at this point they’re starting to believe doesn’t exist with the lack of pictures or stories.

“I’m telling you, I have a daughter,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she taps away at her phone. “I’m texting her right now.”

That is true- she is indeed texting you. Sure, she’s just texting you to tell you that you need to pick up lentils on the way home, but she isn’t lying to them.

“Show us.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, but she shows the two of them your conversation. “See? I’m just telling her she needs to pick up lentils if she wants me to make dinner tonight.”

Jacob’s brow raises as he catches the name at the top of the screen. “That’s odd… your daughter shares the same name with Y/N!”

“Well that would make sense,” your mother sighs, and you know she’s about to just out the two of you.

“It’s not like my name’s uncommon,” you jump in quietly. “I mean… really. Y/N. Not the most unique name in the world.”

Barbara raises a brow in your direction, and you give her a pleading look. “She’s right,” is all your mother’s work wife says. 

That seems to stop the conversation for now, but the adrenaline rushing through your bones doesn’t quit until you safely pull into your driveway that day- lentils in hand.

“I’m home, Ma,” you call as you open the front door. Her head pokes out from the kitchen. “And yes I got the lentils.”

“Good,” is all she says before heading back into the kitchen. You follow in her direction and set them next to her before picking up the glass of wine she’s already poured for you and sipping on it.

“Aye,” she clicks her tongue. “No hello? No ‘how was your day?’”

“I saw your forty minutes ago,” you snort.

“An’ a lot coulda happened in forty minutes,” she replies. When you raise your brow at her, she sighs. “Okay, so in that forty minutes I drove home, changed into my lounge clothes, and started dinner… but I was also thinkin’-”

“That’s dangerous,” you quip. At the look she gives you, you raise your hands in surrender. You might be a grown woman, but Melissa Schemmenti was still your mother. 

“I was thinkin’… you reacted kinda weird when I went to say that you were my daughter.”

You shrug. “I just don’t see why it’s anyone’s business but ours.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that, hun,” she says as she stirs in the lentils.

“Jus’ don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m some sorta nepo baby,” you sigh. “I got this job on my own, an’ I don’t need shit from the Abbott crew.”

“They ain’t gonna give you shit, ‘specially once they know you’re mine, and I know a guy,” she laughs,

“Little do they know, half the time, I’m your guy,” you tease her.

“Well, if that’s what it is, that’s fine. I won’t say nothin’.”

“Thanks Ma,” you smile as you kiss her cheek. “I got some grading to do, so if you have anything that needs graded, just put it next to my stack.”

As time goes on, the group starts to catch on a bit more… like:

The fact that you’re just as good a cook as your mother. You’re always bringing in new things in your Tupperware containers- that just so happen to match Melissa’s… because they came from the same house. You quickly cover that one up with a roll of your eyes and a, “So we both shop at Marshalls, the containers ain’t that special.”

Or when you manage to get pink eye from one of your kids, and Janine notices that you have the same emerald eyes as your mother. “Green eyes aren’t as rare as you think, Janine,” you huff as you grab your lunch from the fridge before leaving for the day.

There’s the instance where you’re getting fiercely protective of your students as one of the teachers from Addington makes their way over to flaunt the fact that they have more resources down the street, and you fold your arms over your chest and square up with the woman in true Schemmenti fashion. That time, Gregory takes notice, but he’s new at this point, and you just roll your eyes as you storm away down to your mother’s room to rant. 

But no one ever really finds out. Not until…

“Kid, I’m having some people over for dinner tonight,” your mother tells you. “You joining?”

“Nah, I have some grading and prepping to get done tonight if I can,” you say. “But can you save me a bowl?”

“For a price,” she smirks.

“Hand me your spelling tests I know you’ve been stalling on grading,” you chuckle. She just points to her bag, and you go and pull them out before heading up to your room. “Have fun with your friends tonight. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, you little shit,” she calls back lovingly.

You’ve spent hours grading papers, and now you’re pouring over your lesson plans for the next week. You realize that you should probably do a craft that has to do with the upcoming holidays, and you find a few cute ones online. You know that you and your mother have a plethora of crafting supplies in the basement- you just don’t know what of. So, you start to make your way down the steps when you hear two very familiar voices: Jacob’s and Janine’s.

Knowing though that if you don’t go and look in the basement now, you never will and will just end up buying all new supplies and adding to the ridiculous amount of pipe cleaners and glitter glue you have stashed away.

You make your way through the kitchen. The three of them seem to be deep in a cooking lesson while also snacking on a few of the things your mother had already whipped up and don’t have a clue you’re walking through.

“You need any crafting supplies while I head down and see what we have?” you casually ask your mother as you pass.

You stop to watch as your two coworkers’ heads whip around in a near comical unison, mouths dropped in shock.

“Y/N?”

“Hey,” you give a half-committed wave. 

“What are you doing here?” Janine asks.

You furrow a brow and fold your arms over your chest. “I live here?”

“You live with Melissa?” Jacob gasps.

“Yeah? She’s my mom?”

“She’s your-“ Janine points a finger at you before turning around and looking at Melissa. “You’re her-”

“I told you guys I had a daughter, that she wasn’t fake,” your mom smirks. “You believe me now?”

“How did we never know?!” Jacob admonishes.

“Well, for starters: I don’t have the Schemmenti last name. Secondly, who’s business is it to know who my mother is?” you quip. “You know how private the Schemmenti family can be.”

They both look beyond shocked. “Well, why don’t you join us?”

“I really do have to go check for pipe cleaners and paper plates, and I know how to cook,” you laugh. “But I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

You head down the steps, and you hear your mother call, “The big jawns!”

“That’s what I figured, Ma!”

“What the hell?” Jacob whips around to your mother, and you laugh because you know she’s about to get grilled on the fact that you were indeed her ‘secret’ daughter.

You find what you need before heading back up the steps and for your room. “Have a good night y’all!”

The next morning, you’re sitting in the lounge sipping your coffee and sulking over the fact that you forgot your lunch on the counter this morning. Luckily for you, your mother brings it with her when she sees that you left it on the counter. She slips it into the staff fridge before sending you a text that it’s there. She preps her coffee and settles in next to you to grade a few more papers before everyone else stars trickling in to watch the news.

“Uh, hello?” Jacob questions when he walks in and everyone else is here now too. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” you and your mother ask at the same time.

“You two!” He gestures wildly between the two of you. “That you guys are related!”

“You two are related?” Gregory asks with a brow lifted.

“Uh, yeah!” Janine tells him.

“How do you know?”

“She told us last night when she called Melissa ‘Ma’!”

“Why didn’t any of us know this?” Jacob continues on.

“Know what?” Ava asks as she comes waltzing into the lounge to grab a coffee.

“That Melissa is Y/N’s mother!”

“I knew,” Barb states with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, damn! I was starting to think Melissa being a milf was just a rumor. I am happy to find out that it is entirely the truth,” the principal grins. “Greg, grab me a tea bag so I can sip on this tea!”

“There isn’t any tea, Ava,” you roll your eyes. “Yes, Melissa is my mom, but it really ain’t that big a deal.”

“Oh, it definitely is! Why were you so secretive about it?! Hmm?” Jacob asks as he sits next to you.

You shimmy away from him just slightly with a huff. “Because nobody needs to know a Schemmenti’s business except a Schemmenti. And, I didn’t want nobody thinking I got this job because of who I’m related to.”

“Y/N, please. You’re good at what you do, hun! You could get this job without the Schemmenti name, and you did!” Your mother cuts in and jostles you slightly.

“I also didn’t want to hear you-“ you look to Ava. “-calling my mother a milf more than I already do.”

“She is! And now that I see the two of you next to each other, I definitely see where your future is heading too!”

“Ava!” You, your mother, and the rest of the group scold.

The principal just shrugs. “Jus’ sayin’ the truth. Bye, y’all.”

Once she’s gone, you’re bombarded with questions. What’s it like having Melissa for a mother? Is your father really as bad as your mother makes him out to be? What was it like growing up? If you saw the horrors of Abbott, why did you work here? What were you like as a child?

“Enough,” you finally groan. “This is why I didn’t want people knowin’. I may be Melissa’s daughter, but-”

“Isn’t it weird calling your mom by her first name?” Jacob cuts you off.

“I’ve been yelling her first name since I was fourteen and realized she didn’t always respond to Mom or Ma, but always Melissa,” you reveal. “Now: she may be my mom, but I’m still a damn good teacher who got this position on my own volition. And y’all better stop asking these questions, or I know a guy.”

“And I’m the guy,” you mother states proudly, a proud grin on her face.

“No you ain’t. Uncle Vin is my guy.”

“While we’re at it,” Melissa sighs. “Stop asking me to get weed from my guy and just ask Y/N instead. She’s my guy for that.”

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to the other : socmed / penpal au

pairing: leon kennedy x reader, ada wong & reader (but with flirting >:)

synopsis: from one admirer to the other, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their email address! However, much like the name... the person you're writing to tends to be the person you actually admire... surely that's not the case for Leon?!

or, in which Leon, a rising model, is truly not immune to the Ada brainrot even as a model and stays up til 3 reading an ongoing 200k fic of Ada x reader written by none other than... you.

and you? best friends with said model, actually. how else do you write so well?

featuring: reader as poachedeggs // leon as rookiecookie // ada as adadadadadad

tweets:

letters:

To scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did. As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, hopefully we can find another middle ground other than Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, ada wong. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me? I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Tell me more about yourself, maybe?

signing off, Christmas

notice: this is a gauge post! if enough people are interested I'll actually plan it! promise. also, ooc warning ofc I just think it'd be fucking hilarious if leon owned a stan twt

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…” 

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head. 

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…” 

You raised your eyebrows before answering. 

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.” 

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there. 

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder. 

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?” 

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?” 

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.” 

You scoffed. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.” 

“You’re a menace.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?” 

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?” 

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.” 

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?” 

“Bring me food?” You frowned. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.” 

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed. 

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.” 

“And you want to see me?” 

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…” 

“Office aide.” 

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…” 

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…” 

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.” 

Joel laughed. 

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.” 

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh. 

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office. 

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time. 

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table. 

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue. 

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it. 

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all. 

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other. 

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him. 

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.” 

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?” 

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did. 

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said. 

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it. 

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…” 

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.” 

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.” 

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands. 

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate. 

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?” 

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.” 

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…” 

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.” 

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…” 

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.” 

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off. 

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.” 

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes. 

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.” 

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…” 

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned. 

He scoffed. 

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.” 

“How long have you been working there?” You asked. 

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…” 

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.” 

“Do you like doing that?” You asked. 

“Not really.” 

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?” 

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him. 

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale. 

“Hey!” 

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.” 

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.” 

“So do it,” you shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?” 

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.” 

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.” 

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher. 

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?” 

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.” 

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh. 

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers. 

“I know.” 

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said. 

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…” 

“Brad.” 

You glared at him. 

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.” 

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…” 

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…” 

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?” 

Joel waved you off. 

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…” 

 “Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did. 

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?” 

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.” 

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?” 

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.” 

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned. 

“What?” 

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.” 

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?” 

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!” 

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch. 

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?” 

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?” 

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.” 

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type. 

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.” 

You ushered them both into the hall. 

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours. 

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…” 

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students. 

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…” 

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…” 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…” 

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.” 

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…” 

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…” 

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.” 

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.” 

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.” 

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care. 

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the  extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face. 

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again. 

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end. 

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write. 

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could. 

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point. 

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied. 

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl… 

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.” 

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once. 

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page. 

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…” 

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.” 

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts. 

You answered on the second ring. 

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation. 

Joel laughed. 

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.” 

You laughed back. 

“What’s up?” 

“Been thinking,” he began. 

“You?” You said. “Really?” 

“Shut up.”

You giggled. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.” 

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!” 

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…” 

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out. 

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?” 

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…” 

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now. 

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?” 

“End of next year,” you sighed. 

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…” 

“Finalize my divorce,” you said. 

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…” 

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked. 

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.” 

You were quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.” 

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him. 

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CHICAGO FIRE.

A/N: do people still read for this show? Not what I originally planned for my final piece for my feb. fluffs but when you binge watch reality tv (Love is Blind) you can’t help but to redirect some place else right? Rip to that Kelly piece!!! Also this allows me to be all descriptive with a synopsis intertwined! + I’m only at the beginning of season 5 of Chicago Fire so I know I have a long way to go although I know some spoilers here and there…

In short: Chicago Fire meets Love is Blind.

S/N: this is lengthy!! So if you have the time to read this and interact, thank you! Also I apologize for joe’s being the shortest of the bunch—at least I think it is since there’s not nearly enough content of him up here. I didn’t want to hit the mark with writing this which I’ve surprisingly only done once on this site. I wanted to do hermann as a potential older contestant? Don’t know if that’s the right term but again didn’t want to over do it so maybe another time! Enjoy 😬

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[MATT CASEY.]

He originally had no interest signing up for this show despite some producers reaching out to him via emails + phone calls and kinda harassing him in person about it! but after careful thought and consideration, he went through with it. He’s not really into people giving their opinions about how he operates so being viewed by the world was another weird feeling regardless of his politician era!

Matt decides to be open after meeting some of the guys who share their perspectives and seeing some familiar faces that he didn’t expect to also be here.

He’s not really nervous, deciding to just go with the flow and actually takes it serious despite talking through a wall.

Matt Casey is a man who is willing and ready to settle down and that’s his goal. He’s not sure if this place or set up will bring that but he knows he has nothing to lose.

Most of his dates go well, they’re honest, driven—for the most part and somewhat humorous and he’s able to quickly narrow it down to picking you.

He’s as sure about you as you are with him. Conversations feel comfortable for Matt, your voice quickly putting him at ease although you joke that you’ll probably sound like shit once you look back on the footage. And he gives you butterflies whenever he says your name in greeting.

You’re the only ones choosing to continue going on dates with each other immediately and nobody else. They say when you know you just know right?

Matt shares his dating history but it doesn’t scare you away like he almost began to worry about. You share your history as well and nothing the both of you say in the pods is alarming for each other… besides the fact that he’s a firefighter.

Sure it’s an admirable profession and you assume he’s in good health but it also scares you a bit at the fact that you could be a widow one day because of his job.

Politics is unfortunately brought up too but you both don’t dive too much into it thankfully. You both know where you stand and he tells you that his time as a politician was a mess and not really his lane which you don’t doubt. NEVER would have guessed it tbh.

Conversations are always meaningful and you both don’t hesitate to share your values and future goals with each other.

You’re open and there’s no secrets: including family.

He’s the first to propose out of the men and you’re in tears since you wanted this for a long time. You say yes and are a bundle of nerves the rest of the night until you’re face to face.

The attraction is just as strong as it is in the pods and as for the appearance you only assumed he was a dark blonde—that’s about it.

Matt can’t stop staring at you and you have to remind him that he has to propose in person, which makes him blink harshly with a shake of his head, laughing to himself, patting his pockets until he finds the box.

It’s a halo teal sapphire oval engagement ring and it’s perfect.

You can’t help but to initiate the kiss and Matt wipes the faux sweat off his forehead after, happy that you took the initiative before gaining confidence to go forth with the next kiss. You note that he likes to hold the space of your back (a lot) while staring into your eyes along with you locking your arms around his shoulders.

The giddy feeling is mutual when you get back to the headquarters, sharing the deets to your temporary roommates/cast mates turned friends.

The pre honeymoon phase lets you physically be in tune with each other. You take note of each others routine. Matt is the early riser but you have to remind him that he’s on vacation and can stay in bed longer with you although it’s always instilled in him to be up early.

He likes sleeping with limbs tangled and being the big spoon, hand in the valley of your chest which you hold just underneath your chin while you sleep. He’s always on coffee and breakfast duty since you may sleep later but not too late.

He won’t make the bed if you’re the last one out of it but if you’re in the shower (badly singing) that’s not stopping him from plopping right back on it hands folded behind his head and ready to doze back off.

You catch him but he says, “what? I was just resting my eyes,” such a dad answer already! you both give each other a blank stare before he snorts first, making you laugh right with him before pecking his lips.

He’ll color coordinate with you but can’t say it’ll be a common thing unless you’re going to events together or it happens on accident.

He checks in on you whether in the hotel room when it gets quiet or when you go down to meet everyone else before falling into separate conversations.

I don’t believe there would be any doubts between you two if you share similar goals and ofc not all things can be peachy!!!although everyone stamps their approval on your relationship. Not that either of you cared much tbh but you appreciate it regardless!

It’s when you ask about who’s the first person he’ll call to tell about your engagement that takes a bit of a turn. He doesn’t say it’s his mom but probably his niece who will obviously do the job of telling his sister which you kinda find cute but encourage him that talking to his mother and sister is important if you’re going to be in his life.

You’re aware of the disconnect that Matt has with his family but if you have kids you’d want your kids to know their father’s side of the family as well.

“What’s there to know? I already told you everything.”

“Matt.”

“…I’ll figure it out. Right now I just want to enjoy my person to be.”

“Nice save.”

“Right?” He winks, pulling you on top of him.

You don’t wait until your wedding night to have sex—unless you’re a traditional person then by all means he’ll respect your wishes although you make it very difficult and you know it. That doesn’t mean you can’t do other things!

He does end up calling his sister first and she thinks it’s a joke before Matt’s showing your face on screen. The casey’s are usually direct people but she’s polite in greeting you and can’t help to let out a few wtf’s and, “are you on something? Maybe politics rotted your brain with you deciding to go be involved in a cult?” when the screen is brought back to Matt.

You’re laughing at the look on Matt’s face because you’re sure you’ll get the same reaction from your family.

Diving back into what a regular lifestyle would be with Matt is an adjustment. He’s gone a lot as a lieutenant and you manage to see each other in the early mornings and late evenings. You’ll have your own job so you try not to let it bother you too much but coming home to a empty house allows you to debrief from a stressful day (which you don’t handle well, maybe you’re a crier when you get easily frustrated) but you still check in with a call or text to see how it’s going with your fiancé.

You agree to have date nights at least twice a month since having dinner together is tricky. Matt forgets sometimes :( but always makes up for it!

Matt’s great with his hands whether with construction (he’ll always fix something in the house or anything you purchase that arrives broken!) , firefighting, golf (which you find to be a complete snooze fest but you’ll tag along if Matt’s alone just to whip the golf cart around the course mainly but Matt’s fails to take your father/uncle/brother’s advice about letting you drive—earning you to get banned from the course. The owners are quite fond of Matt and didn’t have the heart to ban him but you? Had to stay out!) or let’s just say it, sex! Loves holding your hips to guide you just right, wrists above your head, or simply just holding your hands while he’s on top.

He learns you’re not the best driver—being heavy on the pedal (a few unpaid speeding tickets under your belt, just two or three tops!) but at least you excel at gymnastics and tennis?

I don’t see there being any or much drama with any other cast mates since you know how to solely focus on each other and communicate even if it’s something simple/minor.

Eventually Mrs. Casey will come around to meet you and you see where Matt gets his intense eye contact from. It runs in the family since you also got it from his sister but you handle it well. She has no issue drilling you to the point Matt has to tell his mom to back off since she doesn’t get the best mother of the year award.

See…there’s that bluntness you have to take in and hope you don’t get whiplash. You have to remind Matt to relax himself since he did say that he forgave his mother but sometimes the harshness still came out from all of them.

Picking your dress is what makes this more real for you, more than the ring and you know this is fast. The fastest you’ve ever gone in a relationship but when you think of marriage you think of someone like Matt so any worries you may feel seem to wash away—not completely but enough!

And they come right on back walking down the aisle, all eyes on you. Matt is so handsome, waiting at the end for you, carefully taking your hand in his and whispering how stunning you look.

When it comes to the vows is when Matt gets nervous that he refers back to his cheat sheet and you find that adorable along with him getting choked up at some parts telling you his promises. “…You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment, getting the chance to be someone’s forever. Being beside you for the rest of time is all that I could have hoped for. You’re my walking dream and I can’t believe I had to go on tv just to find someone like you! Guess this worked out in our favor and I promise to love you and those other crappy shows you force me to watch for as long as I can. Which will be a long looooong time, by the way.”

There he goes making those butterflies flutter in your belly while also making you smile so wide that he can’t help but to match.

You go next and the words flow as you stare into his eyes, holding his stare while placing one hand on his chest. Your words are just as loving and Matt knows you’re genuine, you never not once shown him that you weren’t.

You both agree to get married with a dip of a kiss, a promise of love to infinity and that love is blind.

BONUS: definitely love slow dancing together and hand holding a lot + hand kisses, a honeymoon doesn’t happen right away—maybe a year later in Australia ;), you both purchase a house together after two years—a fixer upper 😒 that Matt has to convince you to get but it is the house style you’ve always wanted plus you were great at bargaining so you got it cheaper than the asking price, you’ll adopt a dog after six months of marriage since you babysat pouch one weekend and truly believed it was your destiny to be a dog parent first—no you didn’t discuss it with Matt deciding just to surprise him one day at home—you can only imagine how that went, and I get girl dad from Matt so I envision two girls + a boy…which was unexpected since you weren’t really trying the last time but argue amongst yourselves!

[BRIAN “OTIS” ZVONECEK.]

My baby! I want nothing but the best for you!!! Shut up, Don’t ruin it guys.

He’s down for the show and is the one to reach out to the producers after joe brings it to otis’ attention. He signs them BOTH up and joe is confused on why?? But Otis claims he won’t do this on his own and would never ask his actual brothers to do this with him because they’ll give him shit for it and knows joe would truly have his back. Joe gets soft hearted at this tbh and would never argue against that and they both surprisingly get picked!

Otis is excited but nervous all in one. Could his forever significant other truly be here in this building? Otis just really wanted somebody to love s/o JB! and for them to actually love him back. Why was that so much to ask for?

He feels like he screws up majority of his dates and expresses this to joe and the other guys they make friends with. They’re encouraging, pushing Otis to keep going although he’s honestly ready to go home but the last date makes him glad he stuck it out.

He meets someone who is just a little bit nerdy like him but he still takes the cake. He’s into sci fi while you’re into fantasy but you find a bond in that. You also inform him that you have terrible eyesight with grandmacore glasses and dryly blame it on your actual blind mother. She wasn’t born blind but a tragic accident left her that way. It takes a minute for Otis to catch onto your dry humor but finds he likes it.

Which leads to him asking about your profession guessing a comedian but you snort and say you’re actually an assistant writer/artist for a well known graphic novel company. Otis doesn’t need to hear anymore, half heartedly joking about marrying you right now!

You don’t call him by his nickname at all which Brian appreciates. Quickly learning about his last name and culture you test it out with your own name giving your first and middle name and Brian agrees that he likes the sound of it already.

Big note taker out of the two of you! He doesn’t want to forget anything while you tend to have a great memory with shitty eyes. You can actually blame it on too many nights growing up playing video games on the computer.

He makes it known that his Russian isn’t the best but he gets by and even teaches you a few words and sentences that it becomes a thing in greeting.

The gift giving to each other is so sweet as you have a sip and paint date, Brian gifts you a Zhostovo tray that has lots of detail that you appreciate since you once had a hand painted serving tray that belonged to your late grandfather, which broke recently while you took care of your mostly bed ridden mother.

He also lets you borrow his famous helmet and fills it full of wild flowers + peonies and you’re laughing about it joking, “I’ll have to wear this when we meet.”

“Would you, really?” “As long as you promise to help fix my hair afterwards.”

He didn’t expect you to do that but he’s in for a shock.

Part of him begins to worry the quicker he falls for you, wondering if you’re dating other people + even asks the other guys because one thing about Brian? He’s gonna search for the tea and get answers no matter who likes it or not! and you do speak on it before he brings it up that there’s one other person you’re talking to but it seems one sided, meaning they’re more into you than you of them and that you recently just broke it off which allows Brian to let out a big sigh of relief.

From hobbies to having heart to hearts, Brian is ready to make his final decision and wants to pick you if you’ll have him. You like to make him sweat just a little bit, taking your time answering and finally let up with a, “hell yeah zvonecek, thought you’d never ask!”

“Yeah well I was starting to regret asking since you took forever and a day!” “I was building suspense.” “And here I thought you were into fantasy!” You laugh and speak your farewells soon after, ready to meet each other the next day.

The led up to the big reveal is nerve wrecking but when those doors open the both of you are wide eyed although you have your back to the doors with the helmet on. Brian runs to you and you have to remind yourself to move your feet, spinning around as you meet him past the middle.

He shakes his head at you smiling at the fact that you actually did this, and surprised that those printed large framed glasses were able to fit under it too, gently pulling the helmet from your head to place on the floor so that he can also get a good look at you. Hair a mess and all!

“Look at my husband!” You grin after he slams his body into yours in a tight embrace.

He’s a shaky mess but you don’t mind holding him upright, holding his face in place as you study every inch. “I thought your spirit was beautiful before but you even have the face to match.” He’s rolling his eyes at you but he can’t help but to let a smile slip out himself. You’re making his heart thud like crazy and he says he needs to sit before he actually collapses.

“Wow, is this real life?” Brian finds himself asking multiple times as he rests a hand on your thigh and you nod and kiss him to show him it’s the real deal.

“Me and you baby,” becomes your thing and he has to keep chasing your lips because he can’t get enough of them.

You caress his face a lot and he remembers that physical touch is your love language. You didn’t lie about that! But he enjoys your touch and you playing with his facial hair that he left out. He gave nothing about his appearance away and you were okay with that. You were pretty patient and liked the element of surprise! You’ve always been creative so you tried to picture it all and even drew some ideas in your sketchbook.

“Oh right! The ring! This is crazy, I’m sorry.” Brian has to pry his eyes away from you as he searched his pockets and realizes that he either forgot it or dropped it somewhere.

Which you help him look for just for it to be in his back pants pocket, you had to be the one to pull it out with him bending over searching a potted plant. “Hey! We didn’t even have a date face to face yet and you’re already grabbing my ass?”

“It’s our ass now, genius. And I’ve found it, you’re welcome.” You hold it up in between you and Brian rubs his face in embarrassment but you’re smirking at him.

He’s down on his knee and imagines this is how it would probably always be with you. He’s down bad for you already, hands shaking again as he reveals a goregous ring. It’s a modern take on a three princess-cut grown diamonds. They are encircled by a halo of baguette and round accents and from its side it appears as floating diamonds which is breath taking.

“My man has fabulous taste!”

He exhales relieved, “You like it?”

“ Shut up and kiss me.” You demand and Brian doesn’t hesitate. Here’s a little secret, you can’t get enough of his lips either.

When it’s time for the pre-honeymoon, you don’t keep your hands off each other. If you want to wait until marriage, he will. If you don’t? It’s fair game. He eats well ;) he’s passionate and attentive, you can be a little on a rough side—don’t let the grandma glasses fool you but you always have a safe word and have Brian tell you what he wants and what’s too much if you push the envelope too far. Words of affirmation in bed definitely sets him off and you love it just as much. You love to take care of each other.

He doesn’t understand how active you can be before and still have the energy to be up at the crack of ass ready to prepare breakfast and eat. You are a bit of a routine person but if it has to be altered it doesn’t bother you much. You don’t take yourself too seriously which brian likes.

You will force him to do mediation with you on the mornings of your pre-honeymoon and affirmations to say in the mirror—which is weird at first but once he gets the hang of it and believes it you leave him alone to do it on his own. You open him up to new things and just to be himself. And he opens you up to be more in tune to your own feelings and not just everyone else’s.

Meeting Joe is just what Brian wanted and you reveal you and Joe went on one date together in the pods but he wasn’t the one who had more interest in you it was another guy. And Brian is a scoffing mess once he sees him again, “that walking protein shake? Really?!” Whaaat? I friendzoned him didn’t I? I only want you, Kartoshka.” You peck his cheek and nip his ear, leaving him a blushing mess and joe is wide eyed in disgust. “What did they just call you? Get a grip man.” “Shut up, joe.”

There could be a little drama with the meathead who is in disbelief that you would pick Brian over him and tries to show off despite being with the person he picked to marry. But it’s obvious he’s not attracted to them and is belittling to them. You set them straight in front of everybody and thankfully the girl calls it quits with him.

Brian finds it hot that you’ll stand ten toes down for him just like he will for you. And that stamps more approval from joe that you’ll make it as a couple, gaining a big hug from him which you return.

When you return home, his baba is already there and he comes clean since he actually wanted to wait until you were both settled that he’ll start reaching out to some family although you already made calls to your besties as soon as you got off the flight. Brian felt pride at the thought of someone being excited to tell their loved ones about him.

He felt incredibly lucky to be loved by you and hoped you felt the same so he didn’t B.S. to his baba about you. You didn’t understand much of their conversation but the woman yanked you into her arms. Your eyes went wide at her strength but a thumbs up from Brian over her shoulder meant all was okay.

Brian talked highly of his baba so ofc you wanted to make a great impression more with her than anything. She was the one who always believed in brian while he experienced tough love from his mom and big brothers so you couldn’t lie and say that her opinion mattered less when it mattered the most!

You were both nervous meeting each others family and friends, although you found comfort in joe and his fiancée already being friendly with them but the both of you were relived once it was all over.

It was mainly 50/50 on both sides who were in shock that this was happening and had more concerns than questions—which was the same thing in both of your eyes when each side stated this but you both understood that your loved ones had the right to be skeptical.

You were positive that Brian’s mother didn’t care for you or really approve, his brother’s attitudes felt condescending but they said they would be there whether to support or to see this fail was their own business but at the end of dinner they seemed to ease up some leaving the hounding to be done by their mother instead.

Your mother on the other hand was a simple woman. She felt along Brian’s face and smiled saying to you, “he gets points for being a cutie. If you love his heart and he’s good to you, then I’ll be more than happy to call him my son in law.”

Which definitely lifted your spirits!

A home routine for the both of you wasn’t traditional considering that Brian had joe for a roommate and his fiancée decided to move in with them and baba was in town again. Brian had a bunk bed with one twin sized on top and then a full on the bottom so there was that! He planned to get rid of it, worried that you were judging him but you just threw your hands up in the air silently saying you were keeping your thoughts to yourself.

You alternated spending weekends with each other. You lived on the outskirts of town where the historical houses were, inheriting an old Victorian from your late artist of a grandfather where you resided with your sickly mother. You had a caretaker who became family so you didn’t have to feel guilty when you would spend weekends at Brian’s.

He loved chatting with your mom when it was his turn to stay at yours. There was wittiness behind that shell of quietness and she loved having tea tasting with Brian in the garden.

He’s a talker so any time he isn’t talking would be when he’s pissed, when he’s sleeping, or when he’s deep into a book trying to process everything before he’s yelling at the pages.

The both of you like lounging on the couch, feet in his lap while he’s into a novel and you’re sketching.

Pillowtalk is absolutely a thing in this soon to be marriage! Early mornings are a common thing for Brian so he sets his alarm just ten minutes before he has to be up for work to talk to you about the most randomness things because he likes picking your brain.

You get familiar with firehouse 51, meeting Brian’s chosen family and even bringing your mother along just to say hi and always sensing when Brian just needs to see you or hear your voice + hanging with your mom is always a plus. She’s a pretty cool lady too!

And baba also likes her!

Brian would be the type to want to know what kind of dress you’re going for so he can create mental images himself but you won’t budge! He even peeks through one of your random sketches to see if you drew about it or have a vision board buried somewhere to give him an idea. He’s not patient when it comes to the wedding and can’t wait to marry you.

He’s never been so secure in his life!

He’s a sweating mess on the day of the wedding and goes into a dry heave but he’s thankful that his family is there to bring him through it. It means a lot to have everyone there, even his actual brothers!

You on the other hand? Like to dance your worries away tbfh. When you’re nervous you like to throw darts or break out into a mini dance routine that starts off with a moonwalk every damn time—which Brian caught once or twice. “What the hell was that and why have I never known you could move like that?!”

Long story short your alcoholic deadbeat dad was a tap dancer and even started you out at the age of 3. You picked up things pretty damn fast but found you were more passionate with other forms of art although dance was obviously still there.

And your mother was an ice skater before her accident brought on other health issues, so yeah you could move on your feet which was another thing Brian could add to the list of things he loved about you.

So you may have broke out into a routine in your dressing headquarters once you were alone in spanx before getting into your wedding dress. Then? You were good to go.

Brian was glad that you didn’t spare any details about your attire besides the fact that you were wearing a dress. Vintage was kind of your thing and you took your mother’s dress that she brought from goodwill years ago transforming it into just what you sketched. That’s right, sketched with the help of your designer best friend.

“I’m speechless babe,” Brian breathed as he scanned over the details of you in front of him, “I don’t know how you expect me to give my vows when you look like that.”

You smile sweetly at him, head titling to the side, “just wait until you get me out of it.” Winking at him.

He puts his head down, rubbing at his brow, face pink and warns you through clenched teeth, “remember we’re in church, in front of a priest…” which earns laughter from everyone.

You give your vows first because you surprisingly can’t wait to claim your love to Brian and you seem so at ease speaking about him while he’s melting from the lights and nerves! It’s natural for you and maybe it has to do with you being a writer but he wants to hold onto every word that you say for a lifetime.

When it’s his turn he’s a stuttering mess and the comforting squeeze from joe and the caress of your fingers underneath his chin makes him stand up tall. “…I never thought that I would ever find a love like this before. A curveball that knocks you off your feet but you find that you’re okay because it’s the most loving yet dorky person behind it that sends it your way. I am so grateful that you chose me to spend forever with and I hope that—wait—and I know that I can be just the right guy for you. I am so ready to do everything and more with you, including getting old and saggy together. I’ll even give you first dibs on plucking my first strand of gray hair out but I know you probably won’t because you’re so ready for change and seeing what the world has to offer. And I’m ready to offer you love, devotion, and a huge chunk of that world. I’ll always look foreword to saying I do with you right beside me.”

You’re kissing him before the priest gives the final say, which you suddenly remember pulling away and laughing, “sorry, we’re supposed to wait for you to tell us to do that. But I couldn’t resist, this is my forever person! So hurry up and get on with it so we can go round two.”

“Forgive them…and they say I’m the impatient one.” Brian jokes while the priest is shaking their head at you two before moving on with the ceremony and the both of you are a smiling mess, forehead to forehead, excited to put your lips to good use again with the answer of: love being blind.

BONUS: honeymooning in the states was okay with the both of you. You had time to see the rest of the world and Brian was a bit indecisive about where to go so you both closed one eye and threw a dart each at the map landing on Massachusetts of all places! Another round later and your destination was Salem. The both of you brought back weird but cool trinkets to decorate at a later date once you found a reasonably priced home. It takes time and Brian is more than willing to move elsewhere from joe and his vocal fiancée! If you get what I’m saying! He was fine with them keeping the apartment 100% while he was ready to build more life with you. He wanted your mom to move in with you two but there was no chance in hell that she was leaving the Victorian behind…so visits were a common thing at your remodeled (Brian was sick of old houses that didn’t feel updated so he was ecstatic finding this updated listing!) typical Chicago style four bedroom home that was built in 1883, Brian did his podcasts a lot in the cozy large basement and you even joined in sometimes since he always deemed you as his number one fav guest!

halloween? The both of you went off with the costumes with you on makeup duty (that Brian hated sitting hours for because his ass ached okay but always loved the end results and the decor), you’ll go to conventions together since you had the hook up thanks to your job, you’ll help out at Molly’s when they’re swarmed with customers—although you weren’t a drinker but knew how to make a mean firestarter, you’re both cat people until Brian ends up allergic and the hairless cats creep him out so the idea of having pets kinda went out the window, and I also picture him with a kid or two but he’s heavily nervous based on hereditary facts + being a good dad but you both don’t have to have it all figured out yet being worried is enough evidence that he will be 🥹

[KELLY SEVERIDE.]

Listen…Kelly didn’t want to be the guy that did this just to meet more women or anything like that but he thought it would be fun and had time off that he needed to take so why the hell not?

He didn’t expect to be around these many guys and their egos, including his own but here he was!

Casual dating was right up his alley so that’s how he kept it at the start. He knew at some part of his life he may want to settle down but he never had a grand example of what that would look like honestly.

Which is why he wouldn’t be so screwed up if things didn’t work out here…so he hoped.

He wasn’t heartless like some may believe!

Majority of the dates seem to go by fast but he knows how to keep conversations going so it only makes sense along with his imagination going wild trying to picture each person he’s talking to although it really shouldn’t matter but it does to a certain point for him…

One voice in particular sounds familiar and part of him feels like he can’t shake it but he continues talking to her although she seems to skip around some of her background.

However Kelly isn’t all that interested in family backgrounds but feels like talking about anything else like: what do the weekends look like for you? Tell me about your first crush. Most spontaneous place you had sex or made out at. Are you a beach or mountain person? Corny things like that.

He’s made the mistake of mentioning his position as a firefighter and immediately picked up on the tone of those that found more interest in that than anything else he had to say…which got old fast and made him start mentally crossing them off.

He kept talking to the familiar voice and then there was you, the complete opposite to everything he spoke of. When he asked you these questions and you brought up that you already knew that he was a firefighter since the others wouldn’t shut up about it and that you weren’t interested in sliding down his pole made him choke on his beverage in laughter.

“What if I told you that I grow cannabis for a living?” “I’d say…how’s that working out for you?” “Then I’d say idk because my phony friend took over and although it’s supposed to be recreational I really can’t get past the smell so whatever! I’m actually a forensic analyst and we can move on past the basics.” “Well…if it makes you feel better, I smoke cigars.” “It doesn’t.” Kelly laughs with a shrug, “okay then.”

You’re surprised that Kelly wants to go on another date after your first encounter and you very honest about it. “Give yourself some credit. I see something in you that can be worth it.” Kelly doesn’t hold back. “Oh please. What’re you really here for?” “What do you mean?” “Why’d you come on the show for? solely entertainment? “i came here because I was told I don’t get out enough.” “Is there some truth to that?” “When you work as hard as do, yes. You know how it is.” “Sure I do but I also know how to have the right balance.” “I can smell the Vegas on you.”

You keep Kelly laughing and find it odd that you have him somewhat figured out and he’s still trying to get a read on you.

Sooner than later you open up to him—which isn’t something that you do really but it’s something about talking with Kelly that feels different than with all the others. You didn’t pay much attention to the other girls who felt a way about you and the other girl that still got to go on dates with Kelly. It really wasn’t that big of a deal and you didn’t see the point in having envy towards anything. Things that are meant to be will be don’t they say?

The next time you meet the both of you talk about any and everything and it doesn’t feel forced. Just a natural convo between two strangers trying to figure out if they could be each others one. “Hey, are we friends now?” Kelly asks after he ends up telling you about his old friend Shay. You sigh and dramatically say, “if you say so but you can’t tell anyone.” “You are brutal,” he’s laughing again wiping the corners of his eyes, “thanks for letting me talk. I haven’t spoken about her in awhile.” “Ah don’t mention it. Most people say my shoulder is comfy which I don’t understand since they’re broad thanks to many years of being on the swim team.” “Oh shit okay! Were you any good?” “I had no choice but to be. Didn’t know how to swim so my dad made me learn to become a swimmer…which is why I said I’m more of a mountain person rather than a beach or whatever you enjoy doing more. A lake! That’s right, you’re a lake guy.”

Then there’s the subject about fathers and that’s a lengthy one! You didn’t intend to get so personal but it seemed like this Kelly guy brought it out of you—considering you’re friends now or whatever. You only tell each other one thing physically about each other but it’s only because you both let it slip. You’re aware he’s got blue eyes and he’s aware that you have a sleeve tattoo with one of them being a moose.

“Why a moose?” “Why blue eyes?” Kelly rolls his eyes, “stop being annoying.” “Fine. It’s my favorite animal and I’ve got two but the big one, that moose is in a tux smoking a pipe.” “…I can’t even picture that but I love it if you like it.” “Well maybe one day you’ll get to see it.”

Which makes Kelly raise his brows. He wasn’t expecting that but he recovers fast before that date ends shortly after. And he has no problem sharing this info with the guys he’s closest to back at the headquarters.

He becomes conflicted when he has another date before he learns it’s Brittany who’s been using her middle name instead of her first. Now he’s irritated because he felt like she should have just been honest from the jump and not play around.

Brittany’s apologetic and Kelly can’t help but to ask how she’s been and how things were resolved with her family. She says they’re in family therapy now but she moved out to Thomasville, GA. She can’t lie and say that she’s not curious about how things are going with you and Kelly but she makes it clear to Kelly that you don’t share much of what goes on in your dates + felt like your attitude sucks.

“Why? Because she told you to probably mind your business?” Kelly asks.

Kelly doesn’t like how it seems like Brittany begins to speculate or almost bad mouth you since she doesn’t know you like he does. She can sense this may go left so she tries to clean it up saying that you’re not as open as everyone else but atp Kelly doesn’t care about the info given and she also says that you’re nowhere near ready to be married to him.

He ends the date early and lets the producers have it but the producers warn him and Brittany not to say anything else about the matter to anyone. Kelly doesn’t owe them shit, telling you exactly that Brittany is his ex wife from an impulse marriage in Vegas and he hasn’t seen her in years or knew she would even be here.

You’re listening, not saying much and Kelly feels his heart rate spike thinking that you’ve left but you’re laughing now. “It all makes sense on why she was being so nosy. I think she’s curious about a round two with you.”

“Nah, not gonna happen.” “She didn’t know you would be here either.” “I told her my name first and she lied using her middle name instead. So she had to connect the dots at some point.” “You’re right but you felt something before and recently to keep pursuing her so you can’t just brush it off now since she and the producers lied.” “…why does it feel like you’re trying to push me out?” “I’m not.” “Yes you are!” “Kelly…I’m just saying I’m not here to deprive you of anything. Her being brought back into your life again might mean something.” “Like what?” He snaps, “that I go back to old habits?” You’re not sure what that means but you shrug, “I don’t know but you’re both here and you should figure it out.” “Is there someone else?” You pause because you weren’t expecting that, “no, Kelly. There’s not. It’s just you. I’ll talk to you later.”

He’s upset about this but he’s got a few more days to get it together. He really slows down and talks to Brittany most of the time before his final date with you then he has to make his big decision. It’s somewhat tense between you two and quiet but you don’t ask any questions about Brittany because why would you want to spend your time talking about another woman?

Once you get past that tension and you’re both bringing laughter out of each other, Kelly knows you’re the person he wants to talk to the most at the end of the day and he knows the decision he’ll be making tomorrow.

When he proposes the next day it’s along the lines of, “I know what this feeling is and i know I’d be a complete dumbass if I let you slip away. You’re exactly what I need to get through just a day so I can only imagine what life would be like with you in it all the time. Will you marry me?”

And when you’re face to face, the both of you have shit eating grins on your faces and can’t help but to laugh. “We’re doing this huh?” “Only if you want to.” He bumps your shoulder as you sit beside each other, knees touching and him running his fingertips over the ink on your arm.

“I think I have to see what I’m working with first.” “Meaning what?” “Plant one on me, duh.” “Oh! Is that what you want?” He’s teasing. “I mean…a big part of how you kiss me is on the list: if I should spend until the end of time with you.” “Did I ever tell you that you’re something else?” He’s grabbing the sides of your neck and you’re running your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Eh, I’m used to it already.”

He likes the way your nose crinkles when you’re being your usual sarcastic self and he’s staring at you with a glimmer in his bright blues before he’s diving right to you.

You hate to admit it but the man knows what he’s doing with his lips + tongue and he knows that you’re enjoying it based on your body language. “Did I pass?” You’re playfully glaring at him, trying to slow your breathing + taking note of the gap in his smile and say, “give me the ring, damnit.”

It’s a 1 carat emerald diamond with French diamonds (he explained to you) that extend half of the way around the band. They say everyone thinks about what their ring would look like but you also never thought you’d find love again after being cheated on multiple times. It was evident that Kelly put thought into this ring and into you.

So you grip his cheeks and kiss him again before wrapping him into your arms, feeling the tears in your throat. Kelly rubs your back whispering, “I’ll do my best to make you happy.” “No need to worry, you’re doing great so far.” And you’re laughing again and enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

The Pre-Moon added to the energy of being a fiancé and fiancée. You’re wearing Kelly’s cap backwards and this is marked as Kelly’s fav outfit on you yet. You in the warm weather is the perfect view in Kelly’s eyes as you settle into your hotel.

He’ll definitely pull you into the shower with him since he doesn’t have to shower alone now. You caught on pretty quickly, enjoying the makeout session and wondering hands but you don’t take it further than that, just sticking to teasing on the first night.

He’s the partner that likes to sleep with the tv on although it doesn’t make sense to you. He’ll be taking care of the electric bill if he keeps this up outside of the show! Lots of pillow fights, “catch this!” and WWE moments that lead to more makeout sessions. Leave it up to Kelly and he’ll never leave this room. He likes walking around shirtless a lot trying to get you riled up but if he hasn’t noticed you’re a tough cookie.

It’s when he goes out onto the balcony ass naked shouting good morning to the villa, you’re yanking him right back into the room while he’s laughing. “Is there a problem?” “Yes! Why are you sharing our business to the rest of the villa?” “Our?” Kelly questions with a smirk while you keep your eyes only on him. He’s stalking towards you now after you created space between you two. “That’s what I said. Now put some clothes on!” “Is that really what you want?” “Are you planning on going skinny dipping at the pool?” He thinks about it letting a wide smile greet his face. Shaking your head you say, “never mind!”

Neck kisses and nose kisses are a thing between you two. The attraction is magnetic and 1000000000% there but you don’t officially do the deed until you’re back in Chicago on a houseboat he brought and is renovating to resell.

You wake up in complete bliss, his arm tucked underneath your jaw and fingers touching your shoulder which he kisses the back of. You’re staring at your ring, crooked smile on your lips as he’s peppering the side of your face in good morning kisses.

“I didn’t get to show off my lingerie.” You pout recollecting how the events of the night happened on impulse—but a good impulse nonetheless.

“You could model it for me now.” Kelly suggested, “or…we can shower together and get ready for the day. Meet everyone at 51.”

“You didn’t even tell them yet.”

“I told Matt and Dawson—Gabby.” He informs.

“Then I can meet them but want to wait on everybody else.”

“Okay,” he’s ready to get up but you’re pulling him back, “let’s stay in bed just a little bit longer. It’s still early.”

He can’t cook for shit and his stove isn’t repaired yet so a trip for bagels, coffee, and tea for you was a pit stop before heading over to Matt and Gabby’s where you meet little Louie as well. You and gabby understand each other’s humor and like that you’re honest about knowing how crazy this marriage thing may seem but the focus was on the present that leads up to marriage. You would put in the work if kelly does and so far it’s been great but honeymoon phases can wear off…

You have your own place and didn’t like staying on a houseboat by yourself, so a weekly routine did include you staying back at your own place while Kelly would spend many nights at the station which you stayed away from until it’s brought to your attention that Brittany shows up to the station based on a text she “accidentally” sent you. “Look who I picked up to have lunch with”

Here comes the drama the producers were looking for! It was an off guard photo she took at a table they were sitting at for lunch and you didn’t give her the satisfaction of replying. You would just wait until Kelly showed up for breakfast…hours later. He sent a good night text that same night and you left him on read which he tried not to think too much about.

Finding your front door unlocked was alarming and this was his first time being at your place, which was pretty nice. He calls out to you but he can smell the food so he quickly turns to his right to find you in your kitchen.

“Hey,” he starts, making his way over to you to peck your cheek before rubbing his hands together at the food spread and taking a seat at the island counter, “…what’s up?”

“How was your day yesterday?” You start, stirring the contents in your tea cup.

Kelly’s diving into his food and shrugs, “t’lright. Busy as usual. Missed your call on your lunch break and then reached back out to you once my shift was over. Figured you probably fell asleep right before.”

“How was lunch with Britt?” You casually ask sipping at your tea mug.

Kelly stops chewing, bright eyes flicking back to yours.

“And don’t hit me with the ‘what’re you talking about?’ She sent me a photo on purpose although she tried to lie about it.”

“…it wasn’t planned.” Kelly starts.

“No?”

“No, why would I willingly go out to lunch with her if I said all that I needed to back in the pods?”

“You tell me, Kelly.”

Kelly tightens his stare, “Stop. Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything but trying to carry a conversation with my fiancé. Questioning why he’s hanging out with his ex wife…that’s all.”

“We weren’t hanging out! I just told you that. It wasn’t planned. I went to go pick up lunch for the squad and she so happened to be there having lunch by herself and she invited me over. I sat down and then we talked. I was only there for five maybe ten minutes sitting.”

“That’s five to ten minutes too long for not having anything else to say.”

Kelly lifts his shoulders, “I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“You should have told me instead of her trying to gain some sort of one up on me saying that she picked you up when she actually didn’t. Which is weird as hell by the way.”

“I can’t control what anybody does but I do agree, I should have mentioned it last night although nothing happened but you didn’t answer any of my texts.” “Don’t try and flip this on me.” “I’m not! This just feels like you’re trying to start with me over nothing.” “Is it really nothing though?” “I’m not your loser of an ex okay and I’ll never be that. I know how that feels and I won’t steer you wrong. I love you, okay? If you have any doubt, just put your trust in that ring.”

As he mentions this it feels like the engagement ring burns against your skin but you’re staring at Kelly, taking his words and knowing they have weight to them. Blinking you step back, “I have to get to work, enjoy breakfast. And don’t forget to lock up on your way out.” Is all you say before sliding a key his way.

And he watches you leave while he rubs his face is frustration, pushing the plate away from him and no longer having an appetite.

The both of you are hard workers and push your personal business to the side as you enter your work places. However that doesn’t mean in the free time that you don’t think about each other. This was your first disagreement…if you want to call it that but your feelings for each other were strong and demanded to be felt.

You didn’t see Brittany as a threat at all, finally deciding to send back a text letting her know that whatever she’s trying to get at has clearly passed her by and that there is no need for her and kelly to continue any contact. If she didn’t respect that then there would be hell to pay :)

Thankfully she gets the message, saying that she’s already on the next flight back to Georgia and Kelly is at yours first since you’re the one with a late night. He’s made himself comfortable on the couch, watching sports, and you don’t head to the kitchen that has take out on the table, you head right to where your man is on the left side of the house. You plop beside him and he side eyed you, turning the tv down before turning his head to you.

You tell Kelly exactly what you told Brittany before apologizing about being somewhat accusatory but not about how this made you feel. He’s aware of the hurt you faced prior and know it’s a big deal giving your heart to him. He promises that he’s not going to break your heart and you promise that you’re learning to be more trusting.

Every other weekend when Kelly’s not working on the boat you head out to his lake house, liking the views but not the idea of fishing—but it’s baby steps with you.

It’s the little things that the both of you are getting the hang of. Kelly’s hasn’t been in a long lasting committed relationship since his first engagement but he knows he likes being with you doing the things you like to do and having new experiences on what he likes to do with you. It’s all about sharing and Kelly jokes that you’re not the best sharer.

Meeting each others families at a little get together at your place also puts each other into perspective besides word of mouth to each other. Everyone that the both of you socialize with agrees to be at the wedding (even Mr. Severide who asks Kelly off to the side if he’s really serious about you but it’s not like he’s taking advice from him!) which you actually pushed to the back of your mind although it’s coming up pretty damn fast!

Very protective over each other even when speaking of one another, lots of squeezes you’ll give each other in passing: he’ll squeeze your shoulders when you’re hunched over your laptop looking over something for work when you should be off-reminding you to relax, squeeze your hips and move you aside so he can get by, you both like to rub each other’s back when you’re hugging, if he’s sleeping with his back to you, you’ll use his bare back at your pillow, he’ll throw you over his shoulder the minute you start bickering with him over something, you can ask him something as simple as what type of food to eat based on two options and he’ll say something annoying like, “both,” with a shrug and you’re ready to playfully choke or slap him on the back of his shoulder.

He loves his mustangs and you love your broncos. The both of you will swap cars for a day or two just because or you’ll grab the wrong key—he thinks you do it on purpose. He basically lives at your place now and it’s the norm for you two.

What may not be normal is that feeling in your stomach the sooner the date to your wedding approaches. Kelly always tells you that you can talk to him, that the both of you should be able to talk to each other if something is bothering you so you have a conversation three days before the wedding.

“Do you think we’re ready to be married?”you ask one morning in the bath while Kelly is shaving his face.

“Is anyone?” He says staring at you in the mirror, “If the relationship is real I think most just let the nerves get the best of them and may look for a way out. You don’t think we’re ready?”

“I mean…we’re still trying to learn each other.” “True but you’re scared to take that jump aren’t you?” “Yes.” “Okay,” he goes silent for a moment, “is there anything I can do that will change your mind?” “About getting married in three days? I don’t think so. Are you ready to get married?” “At the start in the pods I wasn’t sure but talking to you made me feel hopeful again I guess. I haven’t really thought too much about it recently but I liked seeing you wear the ring and it was like we were just living without the label. Now that it’s coming up…I might be unsure again because I’m getting in my head about it…but I’m positive you’d make a great wife.” “…Maybe.” You had your doubts about that title just like Kelly. “No, you will. And it may not be in three days, weeks, or months— “or years,” you interrupt.

Kelly exhales with a roll of his eyes, “but you will and I personally want to keep getting to know you.” “Good, glad we agree on that.” He’s stepping to you now and squats down beside the tub, reaching for your cheek to place a kiss on your lips, “just making sure you’re prepared to piss a lot of people off. I assume this means no big show at the altar?” “You would love to do that wouldn’t you?” Kelly grins, “only to the producers, not our family or friends because those producers kinda deserve it especially since I heard them making bets on us.” “We don’t owe them a damn thing.” “Yeah, you’re right. Just thought I’d pass it along and see what you think. So…still my fiancée for now?” He tests and you nod your head, “cool, what do you want to do today?”

And you smile in the fresh morning and Kelly admires just how pretty you are when you have your mind made up. There was still love written in your eyes the longer the both of you had eye contact as you say, “I’ve always wanted to go to Belize.” “Yeah?” Kelly quirks up his brows, “think you can get a bag packed in thirty minutes before the camera crew get here?” “I love a challenge, Kels.” You’re standing up now and Kelly wraps his arms around you, lifting you from the tub, “so do I.” He says into your neck before setting you down on your feet and slapping you on your bare backside to get going.

You’d like to state that you’re not very impulsive but jumping on a flight with a man you agreed to marry after a few weeks of talking behind a wall but chose to ditch the wedding speaks volumes! The both of you are nowhere to be found (Kelly makes sure to call Boden about his minor absence after a day in Belize) but you both know at some point you’ll have to return to reality, for now being with each other without the constant worry about what will happen next is the most freeing feeling you both received.

For the audience: Is love blind for this couple?

[JOE CRUZ.]

Otis was lucky Joe loved him like a bro, otherwise he wasn’t sure he would really try out for this sort of thing…although he knew it would be nice to be in love.

Especially if it turns out to be genuine.

He gets excited being in the pods and actually liked going on dates and felt like he can be quite the romantic if he puts in the effort. However he knew he couldn’t dive right in and had a balancing method that worked out in his favor since most of his dates seemed to hit off but still lacked something.

There was one that was questionable and a little weird that he had to dip out on but for the rest of the ladies he could say he had a solid time.

There’s three contenders that he’s socializing with and one of them steps out of the experience with joe because she felt like her connection was stronger elsewhere. Joe appreciated that honesty and wished her well before continuing with the two women.

It’s still early so he doesn’t have to have it figured out now but he does take into account how he feels chatting with them. Both match his energy yet one is more…sexual than the other and ofc joe doesn’t mind it but he wants to make sure there’s more than just the physical if the plan is to get married at the end of this, so he makes note of that.

Then there’s you who makes him feel like he’s right at home, someone who feels like a friend that he can love past the platonic.

You have inside jokes, drag all those dance movies especially, “save the last dance,” (never magic Mike tho! Which makes joe scowl and roll his eyes) and joe is comfortable admitting that he’s into rom-com’s because who, “doesn’t love a good love story,” but is absolutely into action movies with a detailed storyline as well.

It just feels like you both come to terms with wanting to talk to each other every day and feel happier in doing so. So…he makes the decision on choosing only you to focus on and awkwardly tells the other woman who simply shrugs it off saying, “you’re probably old, fat, and balding in the middle anyway and you’re not as funny as you think. Your lost, asshole.”

Leaving joe wide eyed and caught off guard at being dragged. When he tells you about it you scoff saying, “she’s the one who lost with that nasty ass attitude. Don’t listen to a thing she says because we all know she doesn’t know her times tables anyway. And I think anyone would be glad to have someone like you in their corner so screw her.” “You mean that?” “Cross my heart and hope to fly.” “Thats…not the saying.” “Well who the hell hopes to die? Not I! I’m not even in my prime yet.” Joe chuckles, “that’s fair. Thank you for that.” “Of course, now dinner with Kanye or are you taking the twenty grand…?”

May let out a sigh of a, “I love you,” during your many talks and once he realizes he says it out loud he’s scrambling trying to save himself but you’re shushing him.

“I mean I am pretty fabulous so it’s about time you share those same views.” You start, “and I’m sure I love you too and what this little life will be.”

Which was all the confirmation joe needed to continue working at what this could be and that’s exactly what you both did.

He’s only nervous when he has to face you. More worried about what you’ll think about him physically after that previous dumping brought up his baldness unknowingly and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about you as well but the heart always knows what it wants.

“You’re gorgeous, honey.” He says as you’re caressing his head then his cheek and he’s holding on your waist. You wink and say, “as are you and we got the heart to match so sounds like a win don’t you think?”

You both give each other a nice spin hyping each other up before joe’s down on his knee to propose with an engagement ring.

A 2 Carat Pear Diamond that’s twisted along the band with more diamonds on its side.

“Ohhh, impeccable taste Joey! This is chef’s kiss but you’re already the best gift a girl can ask for and I can’t wait to be your one and only.” Joe’s all heart eyes as he’s getting to his feet to connect your lips.

And you’re both letting out a sigh like this is where you’re meant to be.

The pre-moon is even better. Superior weather and views + being with the man you can see the future with. You’re quite aware of joe being big hearted and it doesn’t disappear. Breakfast in bed, he pays attention and gives his input on fits when you ask for it—even when being self conscious he’ll still compliment you reminding you of your worth, making requests of saying ‘I love you,’ morning, night, and even when/if you’re getting on each other nerves. He knows he’s a blanket hog since he gets cold easily but thanks to the hotel sheets being tucked in so tight he can’t pull the covers too much but promises he’ll do better when you get back home, you help him shave the back of his head, and he’ll help you with your eye drops since you flinch too much doing them yourself.

You’ll spend a lot of time snacking and lounging on the balcony + night time swimming and sunbathing. “I don’t need that,” he says to the sunscreen and you give him a look before he’s sighing taking the cream from you, “you’ll have to get my back,” “always boo,” you state knowing that joe will learn to not argue with a esthetician.

Meeting Otis already feels like you know him since joe talks quite a bit about him. And it’s just as easy talking to Otis as it is talking to Joe and he deff gives baby brother energy so you know there will be no issue looking at him as such. The party goes by smoothly and you catch joe staring at you from across the tiki bar and shoot him a funny face before carrying on although you do feel giddy knowing that his eyes are only on you.

You’re both tipsy and love drunk when you get back to the hotel so it’s no surprise that you both end up underneath the covers. Joe kisses like he’s got all the time in the world and takes his time even further exploring your body and even once he’s in between your legs. He has no problem telling you how you make him feel in your ear and you both learn just how vocal you equally can be.

The next morning is just as loving but Joe’s hangover is not although he claims he didn’t have that many drinks. You on the other hand have a high tolerance and provide just the best hangover juice to cure it while massaging his head with peppermint oil, along with a cucumber facial he tries to eat, and beginning to take care of Joe’s marked up back. He hisses as you rub aloe on his back, “hey! A warning would have been nice you know?” “Well at least you know now,” you grin pecking one of the scratches while Joe scoffs at you over his shoulder before placing a kiss on your forehead.

Lots of forehead kisses and hugs from behind. Lots of rants from him that you nod along to and although it may seem like you’re not paying attention you’re actually a great listener although you space out sometimes. When you get back to Chicago this doesn’t change once he gets back to work and he’s talking about his day. You do have great commentary and know which conversations require that same commentary thrown in while he’s going off or when to wait until he’s done.

“So…how was your day?” He’ll say after awhile, seeming to finally take a breath, knowing both of your fields of work were way different. He assumed you had more peace of mind but there were some clients that liked to show their ass and when you first started with your cousin not only did they try to get over but so did your clients so you had to bring out a different side to you and stood on that.

Which meant renting out a new space and separating from your paternal cousin who was holding you back. Once you did that it seemed like everything in your life started to work out, including joe.

You were saving up to get your own place, growing tired of living in the downstairs space which was like an apartment of your aunt and uncle’s who raised you. You never really had to live on your own although many judged you about it being in your adulthood but you were thankful that you don’t have that experience of being forced out like many friends did. You paid your way once you knew how to manage your money. Joe was more than welcoming you into his space but you kept questioning if Otis was okay with that…

If you’re a black reader (or POC or wearer) and use wigs as a protective style/preference, you can almost guarantee that Joe will steal a black wig cap for his head at work since his caps might not be clean and he’s sure 51 wouldn’t notice. But you did!

Sunday dinners are a thing at your aunt and uncle’s which is something Joe wants to incorporate in your own home life. Having dinner with family is so important (even eating with everyone at 51, joe holds dear to his heart) and likes that it isn’t tense like it would be with his dad and Leon. He helps your aunt with the dishes while your uncle chats with him and you’re working on plating the dessert.

They’re asking the tough questions he’s prepared for. Where you’ll see this relationship going in the next five years after marriage? Would marriage still be on the table if you choose to keep seeing each other and not go through with it? How you’ll handle disagreements? How many kids if the lord is willing/ how you’ll raise them and in what faith? How you’ll plan to support each other in life?

You don’t interact with Joe’s father since he doesn’t either. One day you were sure he would tell him but his tío is aware of his choice, which is concerning at first but tells Joe that he hears the sincerity in his voice. You do have a hour long conversation with Leon who gives his stamp of approval, calling you, “sis,” already which makes you grin knowing that his spirit is just as infectious miles apart. He’s direct in questioning your love for his big bro and you give just the right answers.

House 51 is welcoming, more brief, and humorous. The usual standard questions: what do you do for work? Hobbies? Why on earth would you pick Joe to marry? Lightheartedness which is more easy to deal with than the seriousness of your aunt + uncle and Leon.

The tour of the firehouse is eye-opening along with the few stories joe tells you about. You know when to give squad 3 shit back whenever you pop in and the older men become family too with lots of texting in a group chat without joe—which he’s confused on why but accepts it after some time knowing it’s no ill intent but definitely side eyes severide if he feels like he’s getting too close to you for his liking but ultimately knows you have no interest in anybody but him.

Leaves out that he had a minor dating history with sylvie and is awkward when you two meet. Otis finds this amusing and slyvie is confused on why Joe is being weird but says nothing more than that. You eventually find out that the two use to date + how it ended + they’re still friends and you shrug, “okay…do you want to see any of my exes to make yourself feel better?” Joe’s giving you wide eyes and spits out, “that’s only going to give me high blood pressure, so no thanks.” You burst out laughing against his chest, “then let’s finish our show.”

You don’t mind having times where you don’t do much but you also like a balance of doing more than just simple. Joe takes those hints and tries to come up with ideas here and there in his free time and if you’re not feeling it you’ll come to some sort of compromise.

Things feel natural between you two like you’ve been in each others lives for a decade already. Was that enough to carry you through marriage?

You feel pretty in your dress and not nervous which makes those in your corner eye each other. You usually always keep your composure but most expected you to be a little nervous but you weren’t. You knew what you had waiting for you out there and it felt right. The conversation you had with Joe the night before last also made you content with your decision.

The compliments were flowing as you stood in front of each other with soft smiles. The ceremony felt as fast as this proposal and you had the honors of going first, “…I met a guy with a heart of gold and wants to see the best in everyone. The one who constantly makes me feel like it’s okay to accept love past a friendship and see a lifetime worth of memories in his eyes. I love how we are together, show up for each other, and that I am the only woman in your heart. Marriage is the biggest leap on top of this proposal and I’d be honored to be your wife. To show you just how much love I can give in return….”

It’s Joe’s turn, “…I usually don’t have the best judgement when it comes to love but you’ve shown me that anything is possible. That I made the right choice and can push to do whatever my heart desires and I’m positive that’s you. You’re so uplifting even with your sense of humor and I think that’s the best thing I can ask for. Someone always having my back but also knowing when to tell me that I don’t need to give everything away if people aren’t ready to accept it. I knew I could love you not only in the pods and yeah I wear my heart on my sleeve a lot but I won’t be ashamed of that. You never make me feel ashamed of that. This is the most insane experience that I was forced into which I can thank my boy, Otis for! but it brought me to you and I can’t be mad at that. I love us and I’ll love us even more with time. We have a bond that is meant to last so I know we’ll still make in due time…”

Which is why you chose to hold onto your engagement longer because that felt right. You both moved to your own drum but Patience felt like key in this relationship. You didn’t want to break up but just grow and it made the most sense although many were clueless at this being the route you both took including the producers.

You still had an engagement party at firehouse 51 since the producers didn’t want to include the reception since you both didn’t go forth with a marriage. “You’re probably gonna regret that when the real marriage happens buddy. They pay for all that crap.” Otis whispers over champagne and joe groans before he remembers, “well I’m sure her uncle will help out since he was in the CIA or something…I hope.”

Before long you’re both on the dance floor, happy with where you both stand in the now and what’s later to come.

ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ. ಇ.

FEB. FLUFF FIN.

[ofmdrecaps]

07/03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Ruibo Qian; Dominic Burgess; Samba Schutte; Logie Awards; AdoptOurCrew; Auxillery Wardrobe Zine; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlight Cont'd; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

New month, new blog! Thanks everyone, as you probably can tell there's a new blog for the recaps! I'm doing this to allow for some more silly shenanigans to happen on my main, but also keep the recaps available and more easily accessible to those who want them! For the first few weeks I'll be reblogging them from main, but then will eventually move to just here so as not to overwhelm anyone following. Thanks so much for reading! I love doing these and I was actually surprised how many people followed! I didn't realize so many people were reading, so tysm that warms my heart and made my day!

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys will be join Baron Vaughn and Rory Scovel on AfterMidnight with Taylor Tomlinson on July 8th, 3 PM PST in Los Angelos, CA! Are you in the area? You can request tickets on their website!

Source: 1iota's Instagram

Next up-- Peacock has posted an exclusive clip of the upcoming The Hungry Games: Alaska's Big Bear Challenge-- starring the voice of our very own Rhys Darby!

== Taika Waititi ==

Awesome new promo for Time Bandits! I'm gonna keep reminding you because I'm actually super psyched for this. July 24th on Apple TV!

Source: Matt_Grace_Photography

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie out with the LA Sparks! <3 Also, did you know Leslie will be voicing a character in the New Hulu series Hit Monkey? I didn't know! New seasons starts July 15th!

Source: LA Sparks IG / JoshuaGordon

== Ruibo Qian ==

Our Pirate Queen is going to be taking on the role of Ms. Sherlock Holmes in Ms.Holmes & Ms.Watson in APT 2B at the Old Globe Theatre in San Deigo CA! You can buy tickets for July 27th, opening day -- or any of the showings here!

Source: OldGlobeTheatre Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic is gracing us once again with cat pics. I love it <3

Source: Dominic Burgess' Twitter

== Samba Schutte ==

More pictures with Samba at Dancing with Fire LA with the cast / crew of Advanced Chemistry!

Source: alecmoore219's Instagram

== Logie Award Nominations ==

REMINDER! Our beloved Mads, aka Eddie Redcliffe in Deadloch, aka The Baddest MF in Tasmania, has been nominated for a 2024 Logie for Best Lead Actress! So was Kate Box, her costar, and Deadloch was nominated for Best Scripted Comedy Program!

-- and guess what? It's done by vote! If you feel so inclined, please take a moment to go and vote for our dear Archie/Deadloch (or Dulcie whomever you'd like)! https://vote.tvweeklogies.com.au/ Note: You do need to use your email to submit, just FYI!

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Looks like something exciting will be coming soon from @adoptourcrew! I think I might have an idea what it may be related to...

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine ==

There's a new non-profit charity zine starting up-- in honor of our beloved Captain Stede and OFMD!

"From his flamboyant coats to his sword-slashed shirts, we want to celebrate EVERY way that Stede and fashion come together! Whether this be a canon look you're fond of, his job as a luxury fashion designer in an AU, or Stede in a style of clothing you personally love (or lack of clothing… pinups anyone?!) we encourage contributors to make this prompt their own. This zine will be a digital-only PDF and will consist of a SFW edition and a NSFW edition featuring fanart and fanfic. All proceeds for the zine will go to Care for Gaza."

Want to learn more? You can visit their carrd.co below for scheduling and FAQ's!

Info & FAQ: https://auxiliarywardrobezine.carrd.co

Artist & Writer Signups will start July 6, 2024!

Follow them on Instagram and Twitter!

Source: The Auxiliary Wardrobe: A Stede Bonnet Zine

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlights ==

Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week may be over, but that doesn't mean the spotlights have to end! Tonight we have the fantastic @hameko1019! I absolutely adore her style and use of color! You can check her work out on Hameko1019's Twitter! Thank you again to @garlicsoupweek for the wonderful prompts!

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Bonus

Source: Hameko1019's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast card by our fantastic @melvisik is Jordan Feldman who "was listed as 'Heavily Made-Up Man' in The Best Revenge is Dressing Well."

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Well lovelies, you've made it half way through another week. Only half more to go-- for those of you in the UK, good luck at the elections! For those in the US, tomorrow is July 4th, and while I know there are mixed feelings this year in the US, please remember to take some time to relax and enjoy a day off if you have it.

You're doing so very well friends. There is SO much going on in the world, so much going on in the fandom, so much going on in your lives. But you are still kicking, and I'm so very proud of you for that. If you need to take a break-- do it. Give yourself some grace and get some rest, the world will still be there in a few days. If you've already done that and you're taking some time to yourself-- great job-- you deserve it. Remember that we will still be here, and we will still love you when you get back. Ed and Stede? Still in love when you get back. They're off terrorising some poor patron of their Inn with stories of being gut stabbed, or forcing them to watch a puppet show they came up with.

You're kicking ass at whatever struggles you are dealing with right now-- give yourself time to celebrate the fact you're surviving them. Rest well lovelies, see you soon <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is these two goof balls singing. Someone help me find Taika singing Queen, cause then we'll have some gif smushes <3 Tonight's gifs courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset and @eddie-redcliffe!!

[hairstevington]

flowers and ink (part 1)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve and Robin work at a flower shop together. One day, the pair decides to get matching tattoos at the place across the street. You can probably guess who their artist turns out to be. (requested by @thereindeerlady)

part two, part three, part four part five part six part seven part eight final part link to Ao3

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: This is just cute fluff, nothing too serious, modern day AU, Tattoo Artist!Eddie, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, also I threw Bob Newby into the mix because I love him

A/N: I'm wrapping up the semester and am finally tackling my request list! Thank you for reading! :)

Robin applied to Flowers for All because a really pretty girl worked there and Robin needed a reason to go in and talk to her. 

She was hired, then the pretty girl promptly quit. Also, she was straight and engaged to a man. That was a huge bummer.

Still, the job stuck, and since they were down an employee…

“No,” Steve said when she brought it up.

“Please?” Robin begged. “Come on, you hate your job and it’s been forever since we worked together. It would be just like old times and -”

“Robin, we never used to get anything done when we worked together. We were terrible employees.”

That was true, but it did not deter Robin from her master plan. 

“Okay, well so far the only other applicant is the seventeen year old son of the owner who thinks the shop is actually a marijuana dispensary, and there’s no way I’m gonna work with that little twerp -”

“He didn’t take himself from the running when he found out you just sell literal flowers?” Steve asked, amused.

“I think he’s going to set up his own business in the back, honestly,” Robin sighed. “Please, I promise I’ll do everything and you can just hang out and -”

“Okay,” Steve said. 

“Wait, what?” 

Robin wasn’t anticipating he’d agree to it so quickly.

“I said okay. Sure. Fine. Where’s the application?” Steve took his phone from his pocket to find the Flowers for All website. He clicked on the “apply now” button and scrolled through the questions. 

There were basically no requirements. He just had to put in his name (Steve), education (high school), and any experience he’d had with flowers (none), and then boom, submitted. 

He got an email the next day to come in for an interview. Robin was assigned to be the interviewer.

He got the job. 

-

Eddie started as an apprentice for Ink About It when he was fresh out of high school. It was run by this dorky middle-aged man named Bob, who didn’t have any tattoos and initially seemed mismatched for the profession. Still, Bob was supportive and kind, and he let Eddie grow and thrive in the tattoo shop. He also happened to be amazing at working with clients and was a decent artist. Go figure. 

“Hey, Eds?” Bob asked as he tapped his knuckles on the door. Eddie was on his break, snacking on some chips while watching YouTube on his phone. 

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking of inviting Joyce’s son here sometime so he could see the place. He’s this great artist, and I think he’d love to meet you and see how we work here.”

“How old is he?” Eddie asked, his eyes still fixed to the screen. 

“He’s seventeen. Just about to graduate high school, can you believe it?”

Eddie didn’t really pay attention when Bob talked about his family. He probably should have listened more, but the man was just so dorky. 

“Okay,” Eddie agreed. He didn’t really want some kid in the shop snooping around, but it wasn’t really his decision. 

“Okay, great,” Bob replied with a smile. When he didn’t leave the room, Eddie knew he had more to say. He shut his phone off and turned to face his boss. “You see, uh. Will’s been having some trouble lately. Bullies and all that. He just came out, you know? And he’s a great kid. He’s so great, and some people at school are just - well, they’re bullies.”

Eddie didn’t really know where Bob was going with this. 

“That sucks,” Eddie acknowledged. “I remember when I came out, people said all kinds of shit - I mean, uh, stuff. Sorry.”

“That’s kinda why I’m telling you about it,” Bob said, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “I think Will could really use someone on his side right now. Someone who really understands, you know?”

Ah. Eddie got it now.��

“Someone who’s gay,” he deduced. Bob knew that Eddie was gay, and he never cared or said anything about it, which was great. While he didn’t really want to be some motivational story about overcoming adversity in a hetero-normative society, he knew that Bob didn’t ask for much, and talking to a struggling kid seemed easy enough. “Okay, yeah. I’ll talk to him, if you want.”

“Great,” Bob said, breaking out into a smile. “You’re gonna love him. He’s a huge fan of that Dungeons and Dragons game, just like you.”

“Shit, really?” Eddie replied. “I mean - shoot. Sorry.”

“I never told you to stop cursing in front of me, Eddie,” Bob chuckled. “I know I may seem naïve and innocent, but I got into all kinds of trouble in my youth. You’re free to be whoever you want to be here, as long as you’re nice.”

He was just so wholesome it hurt. Eddie imagined the trouble Bob was referring to being something along the lines of sneaking a beer into a movie theater. It would probably break his heart to know some of the things Eddie had gotten into before he’d started working at this place. Maybe Wayne already told him, and he had just never said anything. Eddie certainly wasn’t gonna bring it up. 

“Hey Bob,” Eddie said. “Why did you start this job in the first place? Aren’t you this huge tech wizard?” Bob smiled warmly.

“Sure was. Bob the Brain, they used to call me. I still love a good puzzle, but life takes you to all kinds of places you don’t expect to go.”

“Yeah, but that seems like a pretty big career change,” Eddie continued. 

“Well, did you know this building used to be a RadioShack?” Bob asked. Eddie shook his head. “It was, and I used to work there. After it closed down, some artists tried to make it a tattoo parlor, but had no idea where to start. I stepped in as manager and they did the tattooing. I rebranded it, changed the name, and have been running it ever since. The rest of the story you’ve been around for.”

Bob was a great guy and a wonderful manager. He motivated Eddie to get his life together, and things had really leveled out for him just by having a stable job he enjoyed.

After their conversation, Eddie’s break was over, so he went back to work. He continued a design for a client who’d come in wanting a quarter sleeve, and then at 4pm he was scheduled to tattoo a bird on a guy’s shoulder blade. 

Overall, it was a normal day.

-

Robin knew every single plant and flower in the shop. She knew their names, their seasons, how to take care of them, and what they meant. 

She just happened to be really bad at keeping track of watering schedules, and tended to kill anything she touched. 

“Maybe I should work at a pet store,” Robin sighed, discouraged that the gardenias that had just come in had already wilted.

“What? Robin, why would you do that to the poor animals?” Steve replied, horrified. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” she snapped back. “Animals can tell me when they’re hungry.”

She looked sad, and Steve hated when she looked sad. 

“Aww, Robbie,” he said, jumping off the counter to put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I can help. If you tell me what to do, I can do it.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. 

“Nope,” he responded confidently. “But they’re already dying, so it’s worth a shot, right?”

Steve actually turned out to be a natural at taking care of plants. He tended to be very good at looking after people, so it shouldn’t have been that surprising, but what was most shocking was how much he enjoyed it. Robin caught him talking to the flowers quite a bit. It was adorable. 

Ink About It was right across the street from Flowers for All. Steve and Robin stared at it every single shift through the front window. Neither of them remember who started the bit where they’d come up with weird matching tattoos they’d get with each other, but it became a staple every time they worked together. 

“Salt and pepper,” Robin greeted him as he walked in one day. 

“You’re pepper?”

“Obviously,” she responded with a smirk. They continued working, but it was a slow day. The ideas got progressively unhinged as the hours went by. 

“What about…” Robin wondered, her chin resting on her hand as she sat at the register. “You get my face and I get yours.” Steve chuckled. 

“Or we both get Harry Styles’ face.”

“Yes!” Robin’s face lit up as she laughed. “What about something flower themed?”

“Like what? A flower and a pot?” Steve proposed.

“Sure, you can be the pot,” she remarked. 

“What? Why am I the pot?”

“Because you smoke pot and I don’t,” she explained. Steve shook his head and scoffed. 

“Weak reason, Buckley, but fine. You’re the flower.” She smirked, pleased with herself, but then Steve added - “The flower is dead, though. For obvious reasons.”

“Steve!” She yelled, laughing. “Harsh, but fair.”

Their shift ended, but instead of going home, they went to the bar next door. They continued the bit until they were tipsy, and ended up arguing over who would be Bert and who would be Ernie. It got kind of heated. 

“Whatever!” Robin huffed, throwing her arms up. “It doesn’t matter, because you know I hate puppets. We’re not getting Bert and Ernie tattoos.”

“You’re acting like we’re actually going to do this,” Steve said as he sipped his beer. 

“I mean, if we find something we like, why not?”

“Why not?” Steve echoed. At first, he was going to give her all the reasons he could think of why they shouldn’t get tattoos together, but then he realized he didn’t have any reasons. “Uh, I guess you’re right. Okay, so no Bert and Ernie. What about Frog and Toad?”

“Are you just going through all the queer-coded best friends in children’s media, Steve?”

“Basically, yeah,” he replied, smirking. “Fuck, I’m Toad aren’t I?”

“I’m glad you said it and not me,” Robin replied. They sat in silence for a moment, coming to the same conclusion. 

“Uhh, so maybe that’s - Like, maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Steve said. “Am I just buzzed, or -”

“No, I’m right there with you,” Robin responded. Of course she was, she always was. 

Before they knew it, they were stumbling towards Ink About It.

-

Eddie had just wrapped up his final appointment and was quietly working on other designs. Bob had left for the day, and sometimes Eddie stayed late just because it was a quiet place to be. 

It became less of a quiet place to work when two tipsy idiots stumbled in. 

“Hello!” The man greeted Eddie. “We would like tattoos, please!”

“Okay?” Eddie replied, confused. 

“He wants Toad and I want Frog. You know, from Frog and Toad are Friends?” The woman said. “Can you do that?” Eddie eyed them both and did his best to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“I can do whatever, pretty much,” Eddie replied. “Except, uh - I mean, do either of you have tattoos?” The pair shook their heads. “Do you know where you want them?”

“We didn’t get that far,” the man responded, prompting both of them to giggle.

“Right, okay,” Eddie said. “So, since you’ve clearly been drinking and this is your first tattoo, I’m gonna say it’s a no-go. Think about it, and come back tomorrow if you’re still interested.”

This kind of thing happened every so often, so Eddie was used to it. People never came back. They always came to their senses once they sobered up, and Eddie would never see them again. He figured it would be the same for these two. 

It wasn’t. They showed up again the next day. 

-

“We’ve thought about it!” The woman said as she walked into the shop. She dug into her bag and pulled out a picture. “This is what we want. Inside of the ankle.”

“Wow,” Eddie said as he looked at what they’d chosen, impressed. “I really didn’t expect you’d wanna go through with this.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” the man argued. “It’s an amazing idea.”

“Yeah,” the woman agreed. “And work’s been slow, and we’re bored, and this is not even close to the wildest thing we’ve done together.”

Eddie didn’t find spontaneous tattoos to be that wild in the first place. He was covered in them, and most of them were on-the-fly. Once you have a few, it gets easier and easier to add more. 

“Right,” Eddie said, wondering what the other wild things they’d done together were. He wondered if it was some sort of innuendo, like they were the kind of couple that secretly went to BDSM clubs or something like that. “Well, lucky for you, it's slow here today, too. Shall we?"

Eddie had them fill out paperwork while he got the stencil ready. He had adjusted their reference picture a little bit just to add his own flair, and after they approved it they were basically ready to go. It turned out their names were Steve and Robin. 

Eddie thought that Steve was kind of a stupid name, and didn’t match the pretty boy associated with it whatsoever. 

They didn’t even seem that nervous, which was baffling. Eddie figured there must be more to them than he had originally assumed. They were also a lot less annoying when they were sober. 

“So, who’s first?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the chair. 

“I’ll go,” Steve answered, raising his hand. Eddie put the stencil on his ankle and got final approval before they got started. 

“You ready?” Eddie asked, holding the tattoo needle in his hand. He waited for Steve to back out, but he nodded instead. “Okay. It’s gonna sting a little.”

“I have a pretty high pain tolerance,” Steve replied. Eddie tried to hide the smirk on his face. He’d heard that line before, many times. 

Eddie put the needle to the skin, and Steve didn’t so much as blink. Huh. Well, okay then.

Tattooing someone naturally involves a lack of personal space. It never bothered Eddie, because he tended to not think about personal space at any given moment, but some clients were a bit more hesitant than others. Ankle tats were thankfully not as intense as a rib or hip placements, but it did mean Eddie had to have a stranger’s foot close to his face, which wasn’t amazing. 

He wasn’t a foot guy. The man attached to the foot, however…

Eddie couldn’t help it. Steve was gorgeous. He also was charismatic, which was a quality that Eddie always appreciated and was attracted to. Steve chatted with Eddie during the whole 45 minutes he was being tattooed, and even made Eddie laugh a couple times.

Robin started to show her anxiety the moment it was her turn. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Steve reminded her. 

“Uh, of course I do!” she retorted. “This was my idea. You think I’m just going to let you have a loan toad on your ankle?” Steve and Eddie laughed. 

“I don’t mind. It came out pretty badass, thanks to Eddie.” Eddie smirked at the compliment. 

“If you can do it, I can do it. Come on, Eddie, let’s do this.”

She was shaking a little at first, so Steve pulled up a chair and held her hand. He asked her to start naming all the flowers they sold, and she did so rapidly. Eddie hadn’t heard of a lot of the plants she’d listed, and the list was unending. Ten minutes in, she eased into the process, and the rest went by without a hitch. 

Steve and Robin were really cute together. Eddie wasn't sure how long they'd been dating, but he wished them the best.

Steve left a sizable tip - like, an absurdly high tip - and then they were off. 

This time, Eddie was sure that would be the last he’d see of them. 

It wasn’t. 

(part 2)

__________________________

@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth

@mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @Dang_Dirty_Demons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @clumsiluni @hollysimone @swimmingbirdrunningrock @witchofhawkins @steddiegarbage @suddenlyinlove @ricekristytreaty @eddielives1986

[musical-shit-show]

dancing is a dangerous game

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) from Prompt List 1 and #15 (“would you ever consider going on a date with me?”) from Prompt List 2 requested by @animetattoochick

Warnings: mentions of drinking, strong language, suggestive dialogue, anxiety, mutual pining

Word Count: 2,305

Author's Note: We’re back baby! Thank you so much to @animetattoochick for this request and so sorry for the delay. I’m working through my other requests now and have more time this coming month to catch up. And very fitting since it’s spooky season and I have some more BJ requests in the pipeline ;) As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you’d like to submit a request! Happy reading!

“Do you want to go? I feel like it’s getting a bit crowded in here and the door’s right there—”

“Are you drunk?” Dewey asked incredulously, “We just got here!”

You groaned, wishing you were more drunk than you were. Dewey had a natural charm that allowed him to get away with way too much, including convincing you to go out. This time, it was a birthday party for one of Ned’s friends, and the degrees of separation barely warranted you being there.

The party was in the back room of the Roadhouse, and you nodded at some familiar faces as you still tried to formulate an escape plan. You weren’t the biggest partier, and would much rather be hanging out with your best friend on his couch.

You didn’t know when you first became friends with Dewey. You occasionally moonlighted as a substitute teacher, and after a few instances of bumping into Ned, he introduced you to his girlfriend, Patty, and Dewey.

The rest was history.

And although he was one of the only people you could truly rely on, you still found yourself cursing him for pushing you out of your comfort zone.

“Come on, I thought you liked the Roadhouse,” he egged, noticing your arms crossed over your chest in protest, “And they’re actually taking requests tonight! Maybe they’ll play some of that pop bullshit you like.”

Your mouth fell open slightly, then lilted upwards in an indignant smile. Dewey was also a master of getting under your skin.

“Excuse me, Finn,” you responded, “Just because you listen to metal and classic rock 24/7 doesn’t make your music taste any more superior to mine.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” he joked, pressing the bottle of beer he was nursing to his lips.

You scanned the room, and relaxed your shoulders as you noticed some familiar faces. Dewey was always the more adventurous one, the one who lit up a room. You didn’t mind fading into the background.

“I’ll uh, go find Patty,” you said, and Dewey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really thought you’d put up more of a fight, “I’ll stay. For now. If you buy me a drink.”

He flashed a toothy smile, glad he could keep you around for a little while longer. “A fair trade. I’ll get right on it.” He gave a small salute, causing you to break into a grin of your own.

You made your way over to the other side of the bar to greet Patty, who was furrowing her brow at her phone. Never a good sign with her.

“Hey!”

“Hey, sorry, just finishing up this email,” she droned, rolling her eyes.

“Work?” She nodded wordlessly, and after a few silent moments, she locked her phone with a click and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…” she affirmed, rubbing her temples. You sat down at a stool next to her.

“Hey, well, at least it’s done, right?”

“Right, and I don’t have to think about the mayor’s schedule for another 48 hours, so I’m gonna get wasted,” you laughed at her directness as Ned sat on the other side of her, “You in?”

“Oh, uh, maybe?” you were still on the fence about staying too late, and the thought of a hangover did not sound enticing. “Dewey’s grabbing me a drink now, so—”

“Ugh, Dewey,” Patty said, earning an eye roll from Ned. You guessed he wasn’t thrilled about his best friend and girlfriend constantly warring, “When are you two going to hook up already, anyways?”

Your felt your face get hot with blush at the question. You and Dewey? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind. Not for a while, that is.

“What?”

“Oh my god, you’ve already hooked up, haven’t you?” she said, pulling you closer. You could feel sweat forming on the back of your neck, “Tell me everything.”

“Patty—”

“Ned, I swear to god—”

“No!” you said over their bickering, “I mean, sorry, no. Dewey and I, we’re not, I mean, we’re just friends.”

Patty looked at Ned, who quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly you felt very out of the loop.

“Does he know that?” she asked, a devious smirk spread across her face. You loved Patty, but sometimes her gossiping was beyond dangerous.

Before you could answer, Dewey arrived, a drink in each hand. “Jack and Coke, per usual,” he smiled, handing you the glass. You grabbed it, and immediately took a long swig.

“Whoa, killer, slow your roll,” he laughed. Patty and Ned both shifted on their stools. Dewey eyed the three of you suspiciously, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

“Don’t worry about it, Dew,” Ned replied. For all of his nervous tendencies, he was pretty good at deflecting, “Wanna play some pool?”

You breathed a small sigh of relief as the two men headed towards the billiards tables, leaving you to finish off your drink and work quickly to order another.

***

“Why do you think me and Dewey hooked up?” you asked Patty, several hours and drinks later. Though you hadn’t crossed the threshold into full drunkenness, you were just tipsy enough to gain some courage.

She sighed, twirling the straw in her gin and tonic. “Because, my love, I see the way he looks at you,” she said, not an ounce of irony or sarcasm in her voice, “And don’t act like you don’t spend every waking moment together—”

“Because we’re friends!” you shot back defensively, “I mean, I’ve never even…I didn’t think he’d like me that way.”

Patty quirked an eyebrow. “Well, do you like him that way?”

A pit formed in your stomach almost instantly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The alcohol in your veins was making you particularly honest.

“I guess, I don’t know…yes. I think. It’s complicated, okay?” you finally spat out, your voice hushed in fear that someone else would hear you, “He’s my best friend, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have so…I never did anything about it.”

For once, she shot you an empathetic look. Her and Dewey were reluctant roommates on the best of days, but even she was heartened by your babbling. “Well, no time but the present,” she said with a smirk.

Patty grabbed your shoulders to turn you ninety degrees, and you saw Dewey standing next to Ned, also a few beers in and clearly having a good time. You gulped, a slower pop song blaring in your ears as the weathered disco ball spun languidly.

“Move along now,” Patty taunted in your ear, “Ned and I have a little bet going about you two.”

“What?!”

“Just for fun,” she said, giving you a little nudge forward, “we have to entertain ourselves somehow, don’t we?”

You walked away from her, and before you had time to think, you heard yourself asking “Wanna dance?” to Dewey, who looked genuinely surprised by your proposition. Ned snuck off without a word, leaving the two of you alone.

A small smirk played on Dewey’s face as the two of you stepped towards the dance floor; there were several other couples dancing near you, and despite your liquid courage, you were praying you wouldn’t be the center of attention.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as you placed your arms around his neck. It wasn’t like you and Dewey had never danced with each other before; he always had a way of dragging you to the dance floor when one of his favorite classics was played.

But now, you were acutely aware of the way his hands rested on your hips, and how your breath smelled like vodka, and the thin veil of sweat that was making his usually unruly hair stick to his forehead.

“Oh, come on,” he teased, his eyes flickering to your stance, “I think we can do better than the ‘leave room for Jesus’ bullshit, don’t you?” You laughed, realizing how far you were standing from him. It was as if you had been transported back to your 8th grade school dance.

Dewey grabbed one of your hands and laced his fingers with your own. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as he pulled your body flush to his, while his other palm gripped your waist tightly.

“That’s better,” he smiled, giving you another once over. Clearly the booze had made him more daring as well. You grinned back, doing your best to hide your newfound nerves.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, I’m just having a good night,” he shrugged, the two of you swaying in sync as the song continued, “You should try it sometime.”

Your mouth fell open slightly at his jab, “Hey, I’m the one who asked you to dance, remember?” you fired back, “Or are you drunker than I thought?” He shook his head in denial. “Quick,” you mocked, removing your hand from his and flashing three digits, “How many fingers am I holding up?” Dewey barked a laugh, gently grabbing your hand again. You smiled nervously at the gesture, your heart beating faster in your chest.

“Why did you ask me, by the way?” his voice uncharacteristically soft, “Not that I mind, but you know I’m used to more headbanging while I dance.”

You smiled, glancing over at Patty and Ned. They were watching you intently, drinks in hand. Of course.

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together,” you tried to say nonchalantly, “Or more accurately, that we’ll sleep together. Or, have slept together. I don’t know—”

“Breathe,” Dewey stopped you, “It was Patty, wasn’t it?” You nodded sheepishly, and he shook his head in disbelief, “I swear that woman knows exactly how to drive me insane…I told her nothing is going on between us.” You couldn’t help but notice that his voice had a slight tinge of sadness.

Now was your chance. You said a silent prayer that your nerves wouldn’t get the best of you.

“I mean…it’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?” you probed, doing your best to not shift your eye contact away from Dewey’s brown ones, “We do spend a ton of time together…honestly thinking about it, I kinda get why everyone thinks we’ve…”

Dewey’s eyes widened in mild surprise as you trailed off, the implication clearly hanging in the air. He never would’ve thought he’d be the cautious one when it came to this topic.

“Yeah, sure,” he conceded, “But wouldn’t that, ya know…change things?”

He always had feelings for you, but he didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. You were too important to him, and an amazing friend, so he had silently resigned himself to hold those feelings close to his chest.

You swallowed your fear and shoved it down your throat. “Of course,” you became acutely aware of your palms growing sweatier by the second and hoped he didn’t notice, “But is it bad that I don’t care? Maybe we could give it a try. It could be good. Really good, even.”

“Goddamn, what has gotten into you tonight?” he threw your own question back at you as you felt your face getting flush.

“Maybe I don’t want to be a wuss anymore,” you smiled, “You should take notes, Finn.” He barked a laugh at your teasing.

Your stomach flipped as a completely new expression came over Dewey’s face. Well, at least completely new to you; who knows how he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention.

But you could tell from the way he eyed you that something finally shifted. “So,” he said coyly, “Since I’m a gentleman, I’m just going to make sure I do this the right way: Would you ever consider going on a date with me?”

Before you could answer, he spun you around and dipped you playfully, a giggle bubbling out of you as the song came to a close.

“Duh, you idiot,” you laughed, heart swelling in your chest now that the pent-up feelings you held onto for years were finally released. How could you have missed what was right in front of you for so long? You were almost embarrassed that Patty had to spell it out for you.

“Or maybe we could skip the date and go back to your place instead?” Dewey couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow suggestively. He certainly didn’t wait to start the blatant flirting, and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Still, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Why, so you can avoid Patty for the rest of the night?”

“…Maybe.”

“No.”

“Can you blame me? She’s a nightmare.”

“She’s fine, Dew,” you said as you both walked away from the dance floor, “And you have to admit, she clocked us pretty well.”

“I am not drunk enough to pay that woman a compliment,” he retorted, crossing his arms across his chest. You knew he was only partially kidding but still laughed anyways, “And she wasn’t right about everything. We haven’t hooked up. Again, we can definitely change that—”

“Don’t make me punch you, Finn,” you threatened, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You couldn’t believe how easily you both slipped into casual flirting; then again, you wondered if you had always been doing it without even realizing.

It was clear everyone else noticed, not that it mattered anymore.

“Kidding,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “Kind of.”

“How about this,” you proposed, reaching the bar again. Luckily none of your friends were around to grill you just yet, “You buy me another drink, we dance some more, and see where the night takes us?”

Dewey’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal.”

*****

Thanks for reading! Like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed :)

[bananacorn-limeade]

1961's The WORLD of ICE and FIRE

I'm going to do it. I'm going to self-indulge!

The Roger Corman ASOIAF production post is mostly just a novelty, but since I'm me, I have a lot of FEELINGS and OPINIONS about this cast. Naturally.

Anyway. Here's how well I think the actors in my post would play their roles, from worst to best.

#19, Worst: John Ashley as Robb Stark

You know how Ben Affleck has a face that knows about emails? John Ashley has a face that knows about sock hops. Woefully miscast.

#18: Tor Johnson as Gregor Clegane

God love the big guy, but I've only ever seen him make this face. Also, despite his repertoire of roles suggesting otherwise on paper, he just doesn't seem like a mean guy.

#17: John Agar as Jaime Lannister

Another terrible choice. The only reason he's not ranked as worst is because his soulless performance would make viewers interpret Jaime as an absolutely irredeemable sociopath, which at least would be... uh, interesting, I guess.

#16 Robert Reed as Renly Baratheon

Renly, but only if he was the most boring Baratheon. Go ahead, try to picture Reed eating a peach. You can't.

#15 Dawn Bender as Arya Stark

Aw, she'd try. But I feel like her attempts at Arya's fire would mostly come off as petulance.

#14 Richard Carlson as Ned Stark

Sorry, what? I fell asleep for a minute there.

#13 June Kenney as Daenerys Targaryen

Kenney would try her level best, but you know Corman would do a terrible job incorporating her storyline with the main plot, so she wouldn't have much to do except lounge around on mildly offensive orientalist sets and talk to her force-perspective dragon puppets. (Stop-motion you say? What, you think American International is made of money?)

#12 Dolores Faith as Sansa Stark

Again, no knock to Faith, but as with Daenerys, I think a 1961 production would flatten Sansa's character away to nothing. She'd get to pine and wear some nice dresses.

#11 Anthony Dexter as Petyr Baelish

This guy can play oily like nobody's business (check him out in 1962's Married Too Young), but 5D-chess-level deviousness might be beyond him.

#10 Michael Dunn as Tyrion Lannister

Full disclosure: I'm plopping him in the middle because I've never seen him in anything! The only little person I've personally seen in Corman's movies is Billy Barty (playing an actual, literal imp), and Dunn was someone I found who was said to play much meatier roles. In general, I think the depth of Tyrion's character would seriously challenge 1960s casting directors who were used to casting little people in jokey roles or as something less than human. One of many problems they'd have with the source material, no doubt.

#9 Lon Cheney Jr. as Sandor Clegane

Here's another actor who would do the best with what he was given - which would be an essentially empty role. This Sandor would be a beast used only for jump scares, with too much rubber over his face to ever show an emotion.

#8 Glen Langan as Stannis Baratheon

Langan would be serious, but dull, with lots of droning sermonizing. In other words, perfect. Still boring though.

#7 Basil Rathbone as Tywin Lannister

Who better to play a role totally owned by Charles Dance than an actor who's even Charles Dancier? The only reason I'm not ranking this legend higher is because I do think he'd kind of sleepwalk through this role, especially at this stage in his career.

#6 Raymond Burr as Robert Baratheon

The future Mr. Perry Mason was damn good at playing hard-drinking, prowly, "beastly" men. See him in this fabulous trailer for 1951's Bride of the Gorilla (spoiler: Burr is the gorilla). Of course, for this production, he'd be about 10 years on from that virile role, but that's perfectly on brand for Bobby B.

#5 Michael Landon as Jon Snow

Landon's tortured James Dean era would be a great fit for angsty goth teen Jon, though he might have trouble keeping his feelings as hidden as Jon does.

#4 Allison Hayes as Melisandre

Should she be ranked this high? Eh, maybe not, but this woman is a goddamn B-movie bombshell goddess. Her Red Woman would be a little less mysterious, sure, but her perfectly arched eyebrows and bullet bra would do R'hllor proud all the same.

#3 Marie Windsor as Catelyn Stark

They didn't call her Queen of the B's for nothing. Windsor always did great with roles that call for strength and verve. She'd be a fantastic Cat, and - dare I dream it - an even better Lady Stoneheart.

#2 Jack Nicholson as Theon Greyjoy

Now this would be fun. If baby Jack Nicholson had half the presence and charisma he would show in later movies, his Theon would be legendary.

#1 Coleen Gray as Cersei Lannister

If I can get Tumblr to understand one thing, it's how much Coleen Gray would absolutely eat in the role of Cersei. She's beautiful. She's a schemer. She's a helpless victim. She's back for revenge. I challenge anyone to watch her insane, murderous, fierce, gorgeous, duplicitous performance in 1960's otherwise pretty terrible The Leech Woman and not come to the same conclusion. I'm serious. There would be no survivors. 👑

[hornyhermitry]

Professional translations & public witch hunts

For starters: If you think "TL;DR, who cares, I ain't reading all that" and are incapable of processing words for a prolonged amount of time beyond 240 character clickbait, you are not entitled to an opinion on translation to begin with.

I will take sufficient time for this one.

General:

In recent weeks I've repeatedly had the misfortune of coming across public harassment and incited hate mobs towards Jujutsu Kaisen's manga translator.

There's hordes of anti-social harassers pushing for someone to get fired from a professional job - in which he works because he is equipped with the necessary qualifications - purely due to disliking occasional translation choices in a comic.

This behavior has reached levels of exaggeration and reality disconnect, it'd be funny if it wasn't so sad due to a real person's livelihood being attacked.

This is not normal and tolerable behavior. It is equal to drumming up a hate mob in front of a café and threatening some employee inside, throwing rocks at the window and demanding for a barista to get fired because you didn't like the coffee beans they chose, or sure, maybe because they put actual sugar instead of sweetener into your coffee.

This is not a normal and acceptable way to behave.

If you think it is, there is something deeply wrong with your perception of society and what's respectful conduct towards another human being. When you encounter another person, you act respectfully at the very least. Kind, ideally.

Feel free to imagine yourself at work, making a mistake and thousands of people starting to call, email, shitpost online and harass you over it, dragging you publicly, shouting on the parking lot for you to be fired. Please reflect on yourself.

Now:

This dude does comic translations.

He did not authorize biochemical weapons in a war. He did not pass a law to deport all migrants and close the borders. He did not accidentally kill someone during a surgery. He did not hack & rob the annual employee bonus' account.

He wrote a word you don't like in a comic.

Planet Earth to Werry hater: Please come back down to reality and dial it back a few notches. This is a non-issue. Whether he makes mistakes or not, this level of hate and harassment is ENTIRELY out of pocket.

Moving on to translations.

Translations/criticizing translations:

Opinions on translations are like assholes - everyone got one. But that doesn't mean you need to pull them out in public. And especially not that you have to shit into random people's lives with them.

I've been reading manga and playing games in private for 27 years. I speak 4 Western languages and A2.2 Japanese. I've been working in the international entertainment industry with a focus on Asian to Western markets for over a decade, including Chinese, Japanese & Korean.

A lot of my time at work is filled with liaising between East and West, internally as well as externally. In my career, I've spent a lot of years supporting and later on consulting on localization.

I know what it is like to be a fan, and I am fully aware of the work reality behind translation.

I'm also intricately aware of the difficulties one faces when interpreting (!) from a source language as abstract and contextual as Japanese to a spelled out language such as English, French, Spanish, German, etc.

You cannot do a 1:1 translation. The nature of these languages is so different, you have to decide on one of many ways to translate something. And oftentimes, the content is so vague with so few indicators, the only thing you can do is guess and hope for the best - unless you happen to hit a rare jackpot of a person who has a guide with additional info and is able to provide this within the short deadline you are left with.

Even the most basic words already illustrate this difference.

Look at the example of

元気ですか / げんきですか = Genki desu ka

Genki is an adjective, "desu ka" is a question particle similar to "is it".

Genki already has many similar variants in meaning: "lively; full of spirit; energetic; vigorous; vital; spirited"

It is commonly translated as "How are you?" but that is not what it literally means.

Since "Genki desu ka?" is commonly used after the initial greeting when meeting someone, "How are you" is the closest equivalent to it in EN, due to it's function and usual placement within a dialogue.

The literal translation would be "Energetic is it?", or "Lively is it?"

That is obviously is no proper English.

Adjusting for grammar, it could be changed to "Are you lively?" - but the "you" is already a "fictional addition" to the sentence, as the original JP has no adress like this.

And asking someone if they are "lively" is also out of place. So more changes are needed.

Further adjusted for "natural sounding" would be "Are you doing good?" which now has 2 additional made up words, to transfer the question from JP to EN - "you" and "good".

This sentence does not necessarily have to mean "Are you good/How are you?". If I tell you my aunt Emma sends her regards, and you reply "Ah. Genki desu ka?" the translation would be "Oh. How is (Emma) doing?/Is Emma doing good?" JP's grammar works without these precise indicators who is talking about whom and is highly contextual whereas - Western languages need those.

Concluding, depending on who is talking to one another, who was mentioned on a page before, etc. a simple "Genki desu ka?" can be anything from "How are you?" to "Is (Panda) doing good?".

There is no literal 1:1 translation possible. The languages are too different.

The reality of translation is unclear source material open to multiple interpretations, once you settle on an interpretation having another dozen options to decide on for the specific wording, then having to adjust that to character and spacing limitations and doing all that with little turnover time.

On top of that, official translations work with styleguides and glossaries.

There could e.g. be a kind of character bible with notes about all characters and their peculiar ways of talking and what character traits those convey and an instruction to use approach XYZ to convey that.

"Speaks in a very poetic way, very roundabout and meandering" which could e.g. lead to overhauling the literal translation to add "personality" based on that.

Going by "(O) genki desu ka?" suddenly "How are you?"for the "poetic trait" becomes "How has life been treating you?"

Again - at the end overhauled again to make room for character limits and such, so maybe it becomes "How fare you?"

This change could have been added not because this particular line offers the exact context, but it is rooted in a style instruction to work with a certain speech pattern/type for a character - since the JP indicators at another spot might not offer satisfactory EN translations, so you have to add the "personality" elsewhere.

Translations of ongoing works utilize glossaries and you cannot use new terms if there is already a term established and submitted. Else it would be a mess of e.g. Cursed Energy in Chapter 2, Jinxed Force in Chapter 25, Hex Flow in Chapter 112, Curse Power in Chapter 156, Hex Energy in Chapter 287, etc.

Even if some months or years in you think another translation would be better suited, you are obliged to keep consistency with previous mentions and cannot just change these.

This also means if you take over translation work started by someone else, you have to work with their groundwork and established rules and terms and cannot change them.

Official translations commonly aim to make a foreign work accessible to local readers. If there is a bunch of teenage characters going to school, they should be relatable to local teenagers. As a result, regional and current slang might be added to make it sound more natural whereas the JP might just have "informal" indicators but less variance in vocabulary. The goal of a translation is to make a work accessible to a whole new language audience, hence the focus lies on making it readable without a prior 8 year degree in cultural studies. Things get simplified or changed for that reason.

Usually translators for a work consult with each other what the difficulties translating are, what possible options are, and what each language will run with. These considerations take a lot of time.

Having fans work out occurences deviating from the OG and explaining the specifics behind is it AMAZING community content and something for the people passionate about a story and about learning more about a culture. But it's not needed for the average joe buying a comic at a gas station.

This kind of deep dive is fandom! Enjoy and share and get excited! Enrich each others lives and understanding of a story! It's one of the best things there is.

Finally, a translation has to be timely & approved. There are multiple people involved in this.

It is not on poor John alone to make all decisions as he fancies and send it straight to print after going rogue, but he works within the guidelines & constraints this jobs brings with it. It's his name on the page but there are a lot more people involved in the final result.

Publicly claiming things like a translator "brutally butchers" a story or "is incapable of doing a job" because in a sea of solid translations of a very vague source language, every few chapters there's a specific word deep fandom who spends all their free-time on this particular story would have translated differently, is wildly inappropriate.

Interpreting differently is not doing a wrong job.

People on social media love attention and shitstorms. You get one narcissist with a following pointing out a debatable translation in a snarky smartass way and everyone wants a piece of the smartass cake.

What I struggle with is how people who don't speak a second language & often barely speak their own language with literacy above elementary school, feel entitled to an opinion here. What makes you an expert on cross-cultural art interpretation? What makes you think your opinion holds any weight here? Oh you read a Tweet by s/o else? *clap*

What makes you think you have the right to go after another person's job for no reason other than spite and some internet gotcha over a comic?

If you really value the creation of near perfect translations that much, be the change you want to see in the world.

Learn another language. Get that degree. Get that job in animanga and do your best.

Or for a start, send a polite mail about your concerns to VIZ instead of starting a personal witch hunt for some guy doing his job.

[cheesenames]

20 Questions for Writers - I was tagged by @batrachised and then took forever to actually do this, oops.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

18, but some of them are anonymous so officially it's 16

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

65,647

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars (a shocking confession to make on my Star Wars sideblog) and Jane Austen

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The one where Anne de Bourgh is the Regency It Girl who everyone's desperate to marry

The one where I lost steam and will never finish it and kind of just ignore that it exists <333

The one where Mary Bennet is a serial killer

The one where a bunch of normal office workers and medical experts exchange increasingly concerned emails about the Vader suit

The one where Bail Organa accidentally starts a rumor he had an affair with Darth Vader

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, and I always overthink it and worry I'm annoying whoever I'm responding to

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't know if this would really be considered angst, but the "Mary Bennet serial killer" fic I wrote ends with the implication that she's going to kill again lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is hard to quantify, but Bail Organa's accidental affair reveal does distract everyone too much to blow up his planet, so I guess that one

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, I'm unanimously loved but I sometimes get people telling me I should have done something differently

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, but I write innuendos if I think they're funny. I've got one fic that's just "how many double entendres can I fit in 850 words?" and it's incredibly immature but I'm told it amused people

10. Do you write crossovers?

Officially no, unofficially I've had a concept marinating in my brain for like three years and simply haven't bothered to do it because I got distracted by Star Wars

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I don't know about it yet!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I started translating one of my own fics, and then I never finished it. It's really difficult!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes and it was a DELIGHT. It felt like it transformed the entire process to be only the fun parts (bouncing ideas around) and none of the difficult parts—just like yayyyyyyy I'm having fun and then suddenly you look up and realize you've hit 10,000 words

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Yodpatine

15. What's a WIP that you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have been working for a while on a Padmé + handmaidens fic that's mostly just me projecting about "how do you move on when your lookalike dies?" and I would like it to become a coherent story I can share someday but I am not optimistic about its prospects

16. What are your writing strengths?

Being silly

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Being serious

18. Thoughts on writing in another language in a fic?

Please stop using google translate for this, I find it so jarring when a character starts speaking a comedically poorly translated version of a language I actually know. In my own writing, I would much prefer to use the "'Words words words,' said Character in Language" construction, even if it's a language I speak

19. First fandom you wrote for?

sigh. I think it was Sherlock

20. Favorite fic you've written?

anyway I think the one where Palpatine lost his job and ended up becoming roommates with Anakin and Obi-Wan was fun, so we'll say that one

tagging: @no-where-new-hero @animazi @ozvezdja