#I will take no constructive criticism at this time

[passengerprincessblog]

“A Little Attention” ~ Lando Norris x reader short

WARNING: smut, NSFW, lowkey fluff

Summary: Y/N is totally focused on her project, but Lando isn’t having it—he aches for her attention, willing to do anything to pull her away from the endless photos and glitter. When he wraps his arms around her and presses a soft kiss to her neck, all her resolve begins to melt.

I hear the door creak open, followed by a familiar groan echoing through the apartment. Lando’s home. Without looking up, I smirk, focusing on the photo in my hand, carefully cutting it to fit perfectly into the page.

I hear his heavy footsteps padding across the hardwood floors as he walks toward the kitchen table where I’m hunched over, sorting through piles of photos, glitter, and little scraps of decorative paper. The moment he stops right next to me, his shadow looms over my project. I know he’s watching, but I keep my attention fixed on the paper, trying not to laugh.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice casual, as if I haven’t noticed his obvious attempt to make his presence known.

“Oh yeah… totally,” he says, dripping with sarcasm.

I can feel his stare burning into me, but I don’t take the bait, pretending to be fully absorbed in my best friend’s scrapbook. This only seems to fuel his irritation.

“You know…” he says, his tone laced with the tiniest bit of irritation, “you could… maybe fix that piece there.”

I finally glance up, raising an eyebrow as I see him pointing to a tiny, tattered corner on one of the photos. I smile, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Good eye,” I say sincerely, like I’m actually considering his feedback.

He huffs, louder this time, clearly annoyed that his “constructive criticism” has only been met with politeness. I hold back a laugh as I glue down the next piece.

“Put the photo down, Y/N…” he whines, drawing out each word like a little kid. “My whole body hurts, and here you are… ignoring your boyfriend.”

With an exaggerated sigh, I set down the scissors and turn to face him, my expression one of pure confusion. “Lando, baby, I have to finish this tonight. You know that.”

But he’s not having it. He lets out another exaggerated groan, stepping closer and leaning down to wrap his arms around me from behind. His face is dangerously close to my neck, and I can feel his warm breath on my skin.

“Please, take care of your baby…” he says in that adorable pleading voice, the one he knows I’m weak to. He punctuates it with a soft kiss on my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Lando…” I try to sound annoyed, but my resolve is already cracking. “Come on, I’m so close to finishing.”

“No,” he murmurs against my skin, “I’m taking this away…” He reaches down, gently tugging the piece of paper out of my hand and placing it aside, like he’s grounding me from my project.

“Lando!” I protest, but he’s already smirking, tugging me up from my chair and into his arms. I can’t help but laugh as he presses his forehead to mine, a playful glint in his eye.

“Yes,” he says, his voice low and teasing. His cheeks are flushed, and there’s that mischievous smile tugging at his lips. Before I can argue again, he pulls me closer, his hand finding the back of my neck as he leans down to kiss me.

I melt into him, finally surrendering, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting him steal my attention – just like he wanted. His hands slide to my waist, pulling me even closer, and suddenly, I can’t remember what I was even working on.

I let out a soft gasp as Lando drags me into the bedroom, his hands already working to undress me. "Lando..." I breathe, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes. His own gaze is intense, filled with a desperate need for me.

"I need you, baby," he growls, pushing me down onto the bed. His fingers make quick work of my clothes, tugging them off and tossing them aside carelessly. I'm left bare beneath him, my skin already flushed with desire.

"Please..." I whimper, reaching for him. He answers by pressing his lips to mine in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth possessively. I moan into the kiss, arching up against him, craving his touch.

His hands roam over my body, caressing every curve and dip. When his fingers find my aching center, I cry out, bucking my hips into his touch. "So wet for me already," he praises, sliding a finger inside me. I clench around him, desperate for more.

He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out, curling them just right to make me see stars. "Lando, please..." I beg, my hands fisting in the sheets. He answers by leaning down, capturing one of my nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to ride the line between pleasure and pain.

"You feel so good," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "I can't wait anymore, I need to be inside you." With his fingers still buried deep, he reaches down, freeing his aching cock from the confines of his pants.

He positions himself at my entrance, teasing me with the head of his dick. I'm practically vibrating with need, desperate to feel him inside me. With a single thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, filling me completely.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he moans, starting up a steady rhythm. Each snap of his hips drives me higher, the pleasure building inside me. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, harder.

Our bodies move together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment. With each thrust, I can feel my legs twitch.

His fingers find my clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. "That's it, baby, let me make you feel good," he coos, his voice dripping with adoration. "You're so perfect, so responsive. I love watching you come undone for me."

I can only moan in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. His cock pistoning in and out of me, hitting all the right spots, combined with the relentless stimulation of my clit, is almost too much to bear. "Lando, I... I can't..." I whimper, my body tensing as I teeter on the edge.

"You can and you will," he commands, his grip on my hips tightening. "Come for me, baby. Let go. I've got you." His words, combined with the intensity of his thrusts, send me flying over the edge.

My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my inner walls clamping down around his cock. "Yes, just like that," he groans, continuing to thrust through my climax, prolonging the intense waves of pleasure. "So beautiful when you let go."

I'm boneless beneath him, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. But he's not done with me yet. He flips me over onto my stomach, pulling my hips up as he enters me from behind. "I love you so much," he murmurs, peppering my back with soft kisses, a stark contrast to the roughness of his thrusts.

His hands roam over my body, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples. "You're mine," he growls possessively, his hips snapping harder, faster. "All mine."

I can only nod, too lost in the sensation to form words. He's everywhere, surrounding me, consuming me. I've never felt so owned, so cherished.

"Again," he demands, his fingers finding my clit once more. "Come for me again, baby." His words, combined with the relentless stimulation, send me hurtling towards another peak.

This time, when I fall, it's with a scream of his name.

My body spasms with another intense orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing over me as Lando's skilled fingers work my clit through the aftershocks. "Lando!" I cry out, shocked at how easily he can bring me to the brink.

"That's it, baby, let it all out," he praises, his voice rough with his own impending release. "You're so responsive, so perfect."

Each thrust of his hips grows more erratic, more desperate. I can feel him throbbing inside me, ready to explode.

The added stimulation sends me flying once more, my inner walls clenching around him like a vice. "Fuck, I'm gonna..." he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. With one final snap of his hips, he buries himself deep, his cock pulsing as he fills me with his hot cum.

We collapse together onto the bed, both panting and spent. He rolls us onto our sides, still buried deep inside me, unwilling to separate our joined bodies. "That was incredible," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to my shoulder. "You're amazing."

I can only nod, too blissed out to form words. I've never experienced anything like that before, never been able to cum so easily, so intensely. And the fact that he came too, filling me with his essence, makes it all the more special.

We lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow, our bodies entwined. When he finally slips out of me, I feel a twinge of loss, but the warmth of his embrace more than makes up for it.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too," I reply, tangling my fingers in his hair. "More than anything."

————————————

Forgive me for anything that doesn’t make sense or typos. I didn’t get to review this well.

Please like and follow! It means a lot!

[mollysunder]

You know as funny as it was to see Ekko give Jayce a hard time about the hexgates's failsafe being built into Zaun, it was a bit jarring for Heimerdinger to be there and Ekko not say anything to him. Yes, Jayce built the hexgates, but Heimerdinger made it clear that he would oversee and advise on all developments. This design was approved by him, and Ekko has nothing to say?

I can see an argument be made that Ekko's more critical of Jayce because Jayce is still on the Council, but Heimerdinger was still there for the construction. Jayce is also leaving the council, he hasn't been to any of the recent war council meetings, he's practically in the same position politically as Heimerdinger. Yet Ekko's ire is reserved for Jayce.

Slightly unrelated, but the reveal also implies that Viktor knew about this as well, and was a part of it. Maybe any concerns Viktor voiced carried little weight because he was a Zaunite, but that implies Heimerdinger didn't take zviktor seriously. And that also means Viktor didn't warn any communities in Zaun that might be affected, since the failsafe connected to air and water filtration.

[yowumi]

Hotshot surgeon Gojo x Medical Student Reader Ft. Hotshot Surgeon Suguru [ modern au ] TW. Pregnancy & Love Triangle

shotgun wedding CH. 02 | Diagnosis

summary. Satoru Gojo, The states #1 Neurosurgeon, known for his wealthy clan. He was known for his success, parties, and his willingness to fuck anybody and everybody in a 10 mile radius. Unfortunately, one unlucky night, you make the wise decision to do what any hard working young medical student would do when faced with a sexy doctor…you sleep with him in which changes your life forever.

.

.

.

warnings. Accidental pregnancy, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), love triangle, roommates (they all live together), arranged marriage, satoru is a bit of a meanie, plot twists, angst, smut, you only end up with one.

A/N. this is my first time writing a fanfic, although i’ve always wanted to! i’m always open to take constructive criticism or any tips to make my writing better! I hope you guys enjoy and definitely lemme know if you have any suggestions, read well luv <3

keep up! // ch. 1 // ch. 2 // ch. 3 (coming soon)

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

getting used to Satoru’s house wasn’t easy, for all the woman dreaming to be feet away from him at all times should think again.

one of the major problems was the noise. he must have some type of superhuman strength on his dick or something because whenever he was home, he was using it like there was no tomorrow.

from the room over you could hear the moans from the room across the hall, soft chants almost religious screaming ‘Satoru’ and lewd comments you wish you had forgotten.

on top of that, he hated wearing clothes around the house. his poor maid is probably traumatized from the things she has seen because he is allergic to clothes when he’s at home, constantly walking around shirtless or in his boxers.

just the second day in, the creek of his door was open and you caught a glimpse of his bare ass just out in the open.

never in your life did you think a man’s ass would look edible…

although, not even Hercules himself could get that information out of you.

Suguru on the other hand was a great house mate, constantly cleaning up behind you, offering to cook for you and do your laundry.

he didn’t make noise and wouldn’t bring woman home, although he definitely used to considering satoru’s life concerning comments on how suguru has changed his habits of being a man whore since you’ve moved in.

“I wouldn’t want to cause noise for the woman, she doesn’t need more extra stress, she already has to deal with you as the baby father, satoru” he grins at his cheeky remark as satoru pouts.

one thing you couldn’t complain about though was how spacious and comfortable everything was in the house. it was no secret satoru was rich and came from money but seeing his wealth in person almost felt overwhelming.

you wake up to vomiting once again, the whole stress of the situation now has been a bit overwhelming and you can’t deny pregnancy is taking a toll on you.

your maid is holding back your hair as you vomit straight into the toilet, perhaps maybe it was from all that thinking of satoru.

“Ms. Y/n L/N, Mr. Geto has suggested you stay home from work until you feel better” she says while patting a hand on your back comfortingly.

“I should be fine, it’s nothing i can’t handle and besides, i’m in a hospital so if push comes to shove, i’m in the same building as the two of them, although i doubt anything horrible would happen. it’s nothing more than pregnancy sickness” you say reassuring her seeing the worry across her face.

you give her a comforting smile and she seems to relax just a bit.

“hey, you’ve worked her for quite some time right?” you ask

she replies with a nod, “yes ma’am”

“well…i have some concerns, i don’t know satoru or geto too well before all of this and i would like to know your thoughts on them, they are obviously playing a huge role in my life now that i’m carrying satorus child and staying here, i would just like another persons opinion on who they really are.”

she pauses for a second almost surprised you would ask her that question out of all people but to be fair, you didn’t have much options to choose from, it was either her or megumi.

[ megumi would have said to run for the hills ]

“well, i was hired by satoru when he was just barely an adult so i would have known him for about a decade by now, but my personal opinion is that he really does mean well, he’s a good person and has a big heart, he can be a handful but he means well deep down, to be fair, he is letting you stay in his house rent free-“ she catches herself in what she’s saying and she lets out a gasp,

“oh i’m so sorry miss! i didn’t mean to offend you or anything-“ she starts apologizing frantically as she bows down in apology.

you giggle at her motions and stop her from bowing “haha it’s okay, i suppose you do have a point”

she blushes at your understanding of her behavior, “when i first moved her, i didn’t have much money and made my living off of being a maid, i’ve dealt with many house owners but satoru is by far the most generous. he has helped me pay for my child’s schooling and has helped me more times i could count, i don’t know what kind of father he will be or person he will be towards you but i know he will try his best at whatever it is you need him to be…for you and your child.” she says giving you a light hearted smile, you can tell she truly means what she says.

“and suguru…?” you almost forgot, you almost feel embarrassed asking about him. after all, you didn’t really need to know about him but you were still interested…just as any other person who lives with someone new would be…right?

“oh yes, suguru! he’s a very kind man, he has lived here for about 5 years with satoru, the two seem to get along very well. he’s a generous man and very friendly although it’s hard to see his interior..” she says

“interior?” you ask now curious.

what did that mean?

“well…it’s almost like an empty smile, it’s warm and gentle and it makes you feel welcome but something about him almost feels unreal, like it’s a mask he uses to perhaps hide how really feels. even when him and satoru argue, he seems to keep his good attitude but it makes you wonder what’s really going on, you know?” she is now seeing the worry in your face as she says this and continues,

“oh but i’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about, he is a generous man and very helpful, he seems to care about you a lot nonetheless! his intentions seem very pure and kind hearted, i was just stating that he seems like he has more depth underneath his smile” she says patting your hand in comfort and you smile.

you appreciate her advice towards the boys, it almost helps you have a better understanding of the two.

*knock knock

you hear a deep voice echoing behind the door, “mind if i come in”

satoru.

your maid turns towards you looking for your approval and you nod as she opens the door for satoru to come in and he sees you on the bathroom floor.

“is everything alright in here? don’t tell me you’ve thrown up again?” he asks walking closer to bend down to speak to you.

“it’s just morning sickness, i’ll be fine” you say as your maid passes you a glass of water from your nightstand.

“hmmm” is the sound satoru makes as he thinks to himself, “you’re taking the day off today, i’ll let shoko know for you, i’ve gotta go in anyways to sign some stuff anyways” he says making a groaning noise at the mention of signing papers all day.

“yeah yeah i get it dad” you say rolling your eyes as you get up off the floor, satoru offers out his hand so you can use it to help you stand.

“will you be okay for the rest of the day, should i bring you anything back? do you need ibuprofen or something”

“some gummy bears would be nice” you say and he shoots you finger guns as he makes his way towards the gun

“you’ve got it” he says as he makes his way out with a light wave goodbye as he walks out.

a small alarm beeped from your maids watch as she seemed startled by the noise, “oh that’s lunch, i will be back here in the afternoon, if you need anything Mr. Suguru should be home soon, i suggest some rest for now” she says as she sees her way out.

this gave you time to rest up today before going back to work where you’ll have to work up the courage to tell nobara, yuji and megumi about the news.

you’ve been dodging their messages, there was probably about 200 messages from nobara and yuji themselves meanwhile there was no text or anything from megumi.

maybe he was pissed about the whole gojo thing?

after a long needed nap you wake up and the sun is already going down, no sign of gojo or suguru as the house seemed unusually quiet.

you make your way towards the kitchen and scramble for a pot to make yourself dinner on, although it seemed impossible considering satoru had a million cabinets.

you groan as your finding no sight of the pans growing frustrated before a large arm comes up behind you reaching up at one of the top cabinets that you hadn’t even acknowledged until now revealing tons of pans.

you look up and see suguru put on his signature smile as he pushes his long black bangs behind his ear, the rest being held in a bun.

“oh” you say as you look towards the pans like an idiot.

“this what you were looking for?” he says with an amused grin,

you nod and put your head down in embarrassment,

“well go on, get what you need” he leans back with arms against him as he is eager to watch you grab the pan

you then realize how high it was, that dick.

you step on your tippy toes hoping he wouldn’t notice your struggle as he lets out a soft chuckle behind you as you’ve now retorted to climbing the counters.

“you need some help over there?”

“shut up…yes”

he lets out a laugh as he brings the pan down from the cabinet.

“so that dumbass knocked you up, hm? how are you feeling about that?” he asks in a playful tone although the concern was still there.

“oh you mean how much of an honor it is to carry THE satoru gojo’s child is? just amazing, brilliant” you say sarcastically.

before you knew it time flew by in an instant talking to suguru, you guys talked about work, life and satoru.

it was dark out and you both were comfortably sat across from each other of the couch that laid in the middle of the living room, the dim light lit down on the both of you, it felt homely almost.

you and suguru were mid conversation when you heard the chaos coming from the opening front door with a loud drunk satoru with a blonde wrapped around his arm, satoru not paying attention to him nearly leaning his whole body weight on her as they walked in.

they both must have came from some sort of party because they were both dressed in fancy clothing, their outfits had to be worth someone’s house.

satoru stumbles across the kitchen searching for the alcohol in one of the cabinets, “hey suguru, where did we leave that whiskey we got back at that one party shoko threw a few years back”, he stutters over his words.

“left top cabinet above the oven, but go easy on it”

“why? you feeling greedy suguru” satoru says in a teasing tone as he finds his way back towards the woman he walked in with

“perhaps, but shoko said that’s some strong stuff, you get all bratty when your hungover darling” he remarks back at him.

satoru let’s out a laugh

your eyes turn towards the woman he’s s with in which you come eye to eye with as she’s already staring at you, she seems almost disgusted and you feel a sense of intimidation.

you weren’t jealous or anything but it was no secret that you clearly didn’t belong, they were both dressed nicely and suguru’s house clothes themself are well kept meanwhile you look like a mess

you didn’t bother to care since suguru was the only person here but being around satoru just felt…

humiliating.

you’re interrupted by your thoughts when it’s almost as if suguru reads the uncomfortable situation and places a soft comfort hand to your back, rubbing it slowly

you’re brought back by satoru’s voice once again, “hey suguru, wanna join me with this one���

it was like you weren’t even there.

the woman carrying his child and he hasn’t looked at you once let alone acknowledge that you were even in the same room as him.

the woman next to him laughs and gives suguru bedroom eyes, you look towards him to see that his eyes were staring down at his cup with a hint of annoyance as if he was embarrassed by the way satoru is acting as of now

he places a firm hand now still on your back.

“nah. she ain’t my type” he takes a sip of his coffee now grabbing the side of your waist gently, protective like

you see satoru let out a frown before noticing suguru’s hand placement, staring directly at you now.

the first time he has the whole night.

“ahhh i see. hey there” he greets you with a wave,

a wave? why the hell is he greeting you as if he hasn’t seen you before, as if you don’t live in his house, carrying his baby.

satoru continues, “is this one of your girls? damn you must’ve messed her up real bad, she looks a little beat. you alright sweetheart?” he teases but leans down to look at you examining your face.

you look down, not answering him

suguru notices your upset expression and squeezes your hand softly before standing up to look at satoru

“Satoru, why don’t you show your companion the guest house, i’m sure she would find it much more amusing” he says as he starts to lead satoru out of the house

“haha i get it, want some alone time with the lady, i wouldn’t go to hard on her, she already looks worn”

satoru says nothing as he walks them to the door before satoru turns around towards you again, “oh right, where are my manners, nice to meet ya darling”

and he left.

suguru comes back you, now kneeling in front of you

“are you okay, y/n?” he asks looking up at you for any sign of anger or tears

you nod, “yeah, think i’m ready to sleep, night” you say as you get up to walk towards your room without looking back at suguru

that night, as you lay in bed with tears staining your pillows, you wonder how you ended up here.

could you have had a child the right way? with someone you love?

why did the father have to be satoru gojo.

06:25

beep beep

the alarm goes off on your phone, not bothering to scroll down at the concerned messages sent from nobara and yuji.

still nothing from gumi.

today would be the day you would have to face them, still having no clue what to tell them exactly

the morning was quiet, not bothering to talk to anyone as you make your way out in your own vehicle as you go to work.

you are faced with yuji when you walk in, noticing your face he lets out a smile and big wave motioning for you to come his way

“hey yuji” you say as you walk up to him

“hey l/n, where the hell have you been, kugisaki has been like losing her marbles and has been taking her insanity out on me! she hits so hard” he frowns at the thought

you laugh, “sorry i’ve just been really busy lately and it’s a long story but i’ll make sure to explain to all of you when i find the time to sit down and talk with all of you today, that way she doesn’t end up shaving you in your sleep”

yujis eyes widen playfully holding a shushing finger to your mouth, “shhh! you never know when she’s listening, don’t give her ideas!” he says looking around paranoid

you’ve got to admit, you missed hanging out with the gang again, it reminded you that you were still young and distracted you from the fact that you would become a mother soon.

you made small talk with yuji as he caught you up with how things were at the hospital and with the gang,

“how is megumi? has he said anything?” you ask

“surprisingly not, i thought he would’ve made some comment by now about how you ran away to per-sue a life of becoming homeless and popping pills from the stress finally breaking you but he has been unusually quiet!”

“oh, uh-“ you were interrupted by being tapped on the shoulder behind you as you turn around being met face to face with familiar white hair,

asshole.

“hello Mr. Itadori, would you mind if i borrowed Ms. L/N from you?” he gives yuji his signature persuading smile and yuji nods

“yeah sure, my break is about over anyways but nice talking to you y/n- I MEAN UH MS. L/N!!!!” he says as he waves you off and walks away,

you turn your attention to satoru and without a word he grabs your hand to pull you

“where are we going? the hell do you want Gojo!” you ask annoyed

he pulls you aside to an empty closet and locks the door behind him with a key he had in his pants,

“what the fuck satoru? why did you lock us in here?!” you grow angry at his lack of communication.

the anger doesn’t last long because moments later you are faced with the white haired man on his knees now hugging your hips,

“i’m sorry y/n, i’m so sorry. suguru told me what happened last night and i was hammered and wasn’t thinking at all and i’m so fucking sorry, i promise i wont be bringing any of my ‘friends’ to the house anymore.” he says as he catches his breathe, leaning against your stomach leaving a small kiss on your stomach that held his baby.

“i don’t care if you bring your fuck buddies to the house, you’re a grown man, that isn’t my problem” you say not looking at him as you keep your hands to your side,

you were trying your best to keep your composure, satoru has a habit of getting exactly what he wants so his affection wasn’t gonna work on you.

“then why wont you look at me? i know we aren’t together or anything but i mean you’re carrying my child so the least i can do is respect you, and the drinking thing isn’t a thing that happens a lot i swear…i’ve just been a little stressed and worked up because this is all new…”

the way he acted wasn’t okay but you did understand this was a lot, it’s a lot on you too so you couldn’t really blame him for having a drink, you would too if you could.

“It’s okay, satoru” you say helping him get up from his knees so he can stand again and you help him fix his composure and he looks at you with a smile

the smile that could always make you forget how much of a dick head he can be sometimes.

but he meant this one.

his walkie talkie goes off as he hears his co worker stating that he’s needed in for last minute surgery

“gotta go” he says as he gives you a soft pat on the head

“be careful, if you need anything you can come to my office” and he rushes off.

work was pretty slow today, most of the patients had very minor injuries thankfully, it’s nearly the end of your shift before you get a last minute patient

“hey listen y/n, i know this is so last minute to ask but can you stay a little late today and take this last patient, i’ve got an emergency back at home, good news though! you’ll be working with kugisaki, i know how close you two are” shoko says as she smiles, “thanks again”

nobara stares at you and waits for shoko to leave,

“y/n where have you been, i’ve been texting you like a million times, i thought something serious happened to you”

“I know, i’m sorry just- i need to tell you something, i was going to wait til everyone is all together but i’ll just say it now” you say and this catches nobara’s attention as she looks at you with worry

“spill the tea, what is it?” she asks

“i’m pregnant..”

nobara pauses and you think she’s upset before her jaw nearly drops to the floor

“WHAAAAAAATTTTT???? BY WHO? OH MY GOD DID YOU HOOK UP WITH ONE OF THE MEN AT THE EVENT??? OH MY GOD I BET IT WAS SUGURU” she says invested as she begs to hear more details dying to know who the father is

“i would rather not say who but that’s why i haven’t been answering you guys texts, it’s just been a lot to take in lately” you say

and she finds her composure and hugs you

“don’t worry about it girl, i just wish you would have talked to me sooner, i wish we could’ve helped you” she says

you smile and let her know it’s okay before you make your way to meet your next patient,

you read over the information listed in your check board about the patient, the patient was minority injured in a car crash but needs to be checked for concussion

this shouldn’t take long

you look up to meet eyes with the woman from last night that was around satoru’s arm.

nobara now takes the clipboard, writing things down as she watches you examine the woman

“oh so you’re that one girl who looked sick last night with suguru, wow never would’ve guessed you would work in a place like this” she cockily laughs and nobara looks up at you with a slight hint of confusion and excitement at the mention of you being with suguru last night

“don’t know, you probably have me mixed up with someone else.” you say trying to stop this conversation before nobara gets any ideas.

“oh no i never forget a face. you know…” she scoots in closer to try and get under your skin, “i’ve never seen you around before and trust me i’m over there a lot”

you can tell she’s lying but you don’t really care enough to correct her.

“listen, i saw the way you were looking at satoru all lost puppy like and shit and i know you want him and all but me and him are kinda a thing and know each other really well and he was telling me last night about how he can’t wait til i get all swell with his kids and birth his baby, so you should probably pregnancy test me, you never know!” she says

it’s obvious she’s trying to get a reaction out of you and nobara is obviously catching on to a hint of annoyance from you but she knows not to push on or ask more, especially from a bitch like the woman sitting in front of you.

nobara figures it’s better to ask you yourself than some delusional woman who probably has a concussion.

“Ms. L/N I think we should discuss these papers, we will be just a moment, you just sit tight!” she gives the woman a fake smile before leaving the room with you

she grabs your arm and pulls you to the side,

“what am i hearing about! oh my god..geto??!!…ughhhh hes such a sweetheart! and doctor save a hoe? oh my god what about all this? you never told me you moved in girl!”

“keep your voice down nobara” and nobara giggles,

“so it’s true then!” she might as well start jumping from excitement, “oh my god this is like the stuff you see in movies, i’m high key jealous of you rn!” she says as she pokes your arm and you roll your eyes playfully at her

“yeah yeah whatever, what about the woman’s results?”

“oh yeah, she doesn’t have a concussion although she may be a tad bit delusional” she says and you both laugh

“could you walk her out? yuji has been waiting in the parking lot for like an hour complaining”

“yeah, no problem” you say

you both go your separate ways as you are now walking the woman to the entrance as she blabbers on about the details of satoru gojo, as if you cared to know more about the famous satoru gojo. not like you were carrying his child or anything

you both make your way to the checkout desk when you see satoru walk towards you both in his formal work attire rather than the scrubs he was wearing earlier, hes wearing black shoes and dress pants with a blue button up shirt, leaving the top buttons undone

the classic sexy doctor get up

the woman next to you waves at him trying to get his attention and he formally waved at her as he would any patient

“hey Mr. Gojo, last night was amazingggg!” she draws her words out and satoru looks confused and nods and waves her off wishing her a nice day

did he not remember her?

“Y/n, when does your shift end? we should ride home together, suguru and i came together but he left early so do you mind?” he asks turning his attention fully towards you

you see the woman give off a small scoff of jealousy as she marches away

“my shift ends now and yeah sure” you say bluntly

as you both walk silently to the car. watching his tall shadow trail behind you, your curiosity gets the best of you.

“did you uh get her pregnant” you stop in your tracks,

he stops to stand in front of you and gives you a look of confusion, “huh? uh i got you pregnant if that’s what you mean but you know that already obviously so..” he lets out a nervous laugh,

“no uh i mean the girl just now, like um did you uh…finish inside of her…?” you don’t know why you felt so nervous asking about this, was it really your place to ask if he got another woman pregnant? “she said y’all are a thing and you were talking to her about how you can’t wait for her belly to get swell and for her to birth your baby? did you get her pregnant?” you continue, not being able to hold eye contact with him

“oh uh i had no clue who that girl is, must have been a one time thing, pretty sure i just picked her up from a bar, but uh no i didn’t finish inside, pulled out..” he sounds nervous and a little embarrassed.

you nod somehow relieved, maybe you just didn’t wanna live with her, you thought to yourself

“okay…good then, uh let’s go home”

“mhm” he hums

he follows you like a dog as you grab your things and he takes them out of your hand to hold. the car ride home is silent and he places a gentle hand on your stomach softly pinching your hips, you feel a little awkward at first before you let yourself embarrass his touch. you can feel satoru’s eyes on you as you doze off, leaving satoru watching you with a hint of a soft smile across his lips.

.

.

.

A/N. this took forever to write but im excited on writing the next chapter, which will hopefully be done by thanksgiving, i hope you enjoyed luvs <3

let me know if you want to be on the tag list for this series!

tag list: @jeannieboys @maskedpacific @muimuiwisteria

[jimmybutlrr]

Mystery Girl

Pairing: Professor -Terry Richmond x Brown-Skinned Women

Warnings : 18+. Romance, Mature Content (Cursing, and Smut) One-Shot, "Getting Slut Out"

Summary: He's that easy, that his draws dropped a few hours after meeting.

A/N: You voted and you shall receive. As always constructive Criticism is welcome and feedback *No Part 2*

“SURPRISE” everyone said. 

Terry clutches his heart feeling happy that his family showed up and out for him. 

“Thank y'all,” Terry said. After going around the party greeting every family member and friends. Terry can be found talking to Mike and the rest of his friend group. “We have to the club, maybe the strip club” Mike said, throwing all the options out there, “calm down, I just came back after being in the military for a few years” Terry said knowing his cousin is not going to take no for an answer. “You're right, we could go to the bar and use your military discount” Mike said, making the men laugh. 

Terry sighs, thinking about the options, laid out in front of him. “Alright, we can go to the bar but only for a few hours because I want to bury these memories”. Terry said in despain, thinking about his time in the military. “I’m going to make those memories disappear” That’s what Mike said a few hours ago, now being too drunk to entertain Terry. 

As Terry sits at the bar talking to the bartender as he has nothing better to do. During the time he spent talking to her, he found out that she had graduated university with a bachelors of social science, has a chihuahua, is collecting another degree  and works at the bar to be able to pay off her classes and debt.  “I really enjoy this talk with you but It’s the end of my shift and I have to switch out now, See you later Handsome .

" The bartender says winking at Terry and leaves before Terry can have a chance to get her number. Drinking the rest of his drink, he looks around for Mike and the boys, seeing them on the dance floor and he walks towards them. Tapping one of his friends on the shoulder, he lets them know that he has to leave and to watch out for Mike. “I have to go, but make sure you guys  make it home safe, alright”. The man nodds to Terry’s words, turning around to continue to dance with the bad gyal in front of him.  

Making his way through the club, throwing a few excuses here and there. He gets to the exit of the club and starts searching for his car when he sees the bartender on the phone, arguing with the uber as he’s not understanding where to go or what she’s saying. Terry walks up to her grabbing her attention, “Hi, I was just walking to my car, when I  saw you upset and I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright, as it’s dark out” Terry said concerned for safety. “I’m alright , it’s just the uber, they're starting to piss me off”. She said upset, “If It makes you feel better, you look sexy when you’re mad” Terry said walking  even closer to her, she blushes feeling flattered, by his compliment. 

“Thank you handsome, you don’t look too bad yourself” She smiles, staring into his eyes, biting her lip, noticing the height difference between them.  “I’m about about to go home, do you need a ride” Terry said breaking the silence, “I would love that” She said putting her head down, Terry wanting to charm her some more, takes to fingers and picks up her head “Don’t put your head down around me”  he demands staring into her eyes some more, feeling a bit chilly as he has no jacket, he put his arm around her neck and starts walking towards his car.

Thinking back to how they met, It really doesn’t explain how she ended up on his bed with her face planted into the sheets, gripping for dear life. “Don’t cum, Don’t cum” Terry demanded “No ppllleeaassee, let.. .me .. .cum, ppllleeeaasse” moans as her stomach starts hurting her. “It hurts, pleassee”. Terry nodds “Alright let it out, when i could to 3 alright” Terry said, lifting up her hand to start slapping her cheeks “ One “Slap” Two “Slap” Three” Terry said feeling her tighten around his dick, feeling like 2 orgasm isn’t enough. 

He starts fucking her through her orgasm, not caring that she’s trying to push his stomach way from her “Please, it too much,plleeaassee” She moans feeling tired. Terry stops, slapping her ass one good time before turning her around. He takes her legs putting them next to her head giving her a small kiss before he starts to bottom her pussy out”OOOMMYY Gooooodddd”. Tears start falling from her eyes, all while her ears start ringing and her body starts twitching. 

Making her reach up to push his body,” Why you running” Terry said, grabbing her hands and choking her. Looking down, Terry smirks, seeing drools fall from her mouth, the whites of her eyes and her delayed speech, trying her hardest to speak English or at least speak at all, it was cute. Terry’s thrust starts rough and slopier, revealing that his nut is getting closer and closer. “Come on, Nut deep inside me, daddy please” She said hoping to be filled. Terry obeys letting of a string of curses while he nuts deep inside her, not caring about the missing condom

Letting go of her body, he falls next to her, both too tired to get up. They fall asleep bare and sheetless.  A few weeks later, Terry wakes up and starts rubbing his eyes. Walking to his bathroom he starts getting ready for his first day being a substitute teacher for a college course that his connections helped him get. He gets to work, taking out the lesson plan from the previous teacher, the students start piling in one by one. Scanning everybody's faces for remembrance, he sees her. Shocked that she turned out to be his student, while also coming to the conclusion that she is equally as shocked as she is seated staring at him with the same eyes that were rolling back, just a few weeks before. When it hits him, He never got her name.

Tags -

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackgurlnhermoods

@easybrezzy @planetblaque

@urfavblackbimbo @jenlovey

@avoidthings @kimuzostar

@skvrpion @theereina

@megamindsecretlair @theereina

@melaninpov @mscarter213

[lieslab]

So different from the crowd

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: An evening in the park goes quiet after you reveal your inner struggles.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.1K

Trigger warning: Self-hatred and identity issues.

A/N: I hope this comes across to the people who need it most right now. I'm feeling emotional, so consider this a love letter from me to you. You're going to do great things, I know you will <3

_ _ _

No matter how much time passed, it always still seemed to sting. There’s always different kinds of rejection in life. Sometimes simple words can easily be brushed off, but other times, they dig into sensitive flesh. Words worm their way into your brain and they follow the blood flow until they reach your heart. 

People try to learn how to take constructive criticism, but with a heart full of stitches and oozing holes, sometimes it feels impossible. Would it ever feel right? When would words start slipping off you like a water resistant coating instead of silencing you? Your hopes. Your dreams. Your identity. Why did it have to be so hard? 

For some, their identity is as simple as slipping on a t-shirt. It fits perfectly and it doesn’t feel wrong. The wool doesn’t irritate the skin. The cotton isn’t too tight. There’s never any questioning because the skin on their body fits properly. 

For some people, it will never feel right. The color of their skin, the way their bodies are formed, whoever they choose to love, it will always feel off; a tag scratching against the back of their neck, even if they try to cut it off. 

Will self-love ever win? Will it ever fill the aching void deep inside and settle the unrest? Will it finally feel as easy as breathing? When would it be your turn to experience the joyous feeling of loving yourself? 

“Wee! Look at me! Look at me!” 

You glanced over at the sound of a voice. Across the way, Minho was kicking himself higher and higher into a golden sunset sky. The diminishing sunlight caused his eyes to sparkle. He grinned when your eyes met his. 

His smile was infectious, so you felt your own start to grow on your face. “What are you doing?” You called out to him. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m swinging! Look how high I am?” A giggle spilled from his mouth. “I’m gonna go straight to the moon!” 

It was silly to be a grown adult and act so childish. Luckily for you, you liked silly. Minho and you had been close friends forever. He finished recording earlier in the evening and asked if you’d like to hang out. How were you supposed to reject the offer? 

The clouds smeared the skies with dark yellows. A gray-blue was swallowing the clouds whole across the way. Fleeting birds passed and swooped down along the ground. They were attempting to find the last bits of food before the fading sunlight disappeared. 

Minho’s legs pumped back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. Again and again and again. He constantly propelled himself higher and higher. You watched with a smile. 

Between the swings and creaks of the rusted swing set, Minho turned into a boy again. Youth filled his face and his laughter rang out louder. How many times must he have done the same thing as a kid? Back when swing sets felt like rocket ships and slides were space launchers. Quick adrenaline bursts at recess left him breathless and giddy for another chance to go higher or faster. 

Childhood was so fragile for some and strengthening for others. After all, it was the paved way into your teenage years. Your teen years dipped into adulthood and that’s why you were the way you were. 

“Come join me!” 

You shook your head. 

“Come on!” 

“I’m not interested. I don’t remember the last time I was on a swing set. Besides, the connecting chains are so rusted and what if I-” 

And then he was flying. The swing pulled back and swooshed forth, but he didn’t second guess the high speed. He shifted his hands and propelled himself off the rubber bottom. 

You gasped and jerked upright from the wooden picnic table you were at. The moment his feet dragged along the sienna mulch, you were up in an instant. You rushed over with wide eyes. “Hey, are you okay? You shouldn’t have done that! What if you would have gotten injured?” 

He said it with a mischievous smile. “You worry too much. Come on!” There wasn’t time to respond as he looped his hand through yours. 

He jerked you through the mulch until the two of you reached a blue-based mary-go-round. He gave you a gentle shove and stepped up to the side of it. When you hesitated, he patted the cool metal base. 

You climbed forward and sat down. Lowering your body onto it, you grabbed one of the white railings and let out a soft sigh. “Just don’t make it go too fast, okay? You know I get nauseous easily.” 

“I know, I know. I haven’t forgotten about it, so just try to relax.” He curled a foot around the nearest white mound and placed his other foot in the bed of mulch. He kicked off and the two of you began to slowly spin in a circle. 

“So what’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s written all over your face.” 

A creaking sound filled the air. The old spinning mechanisms beneath the machine hadn’t been used in quite a while. This specific playground was hidden away at the end of a dead end street. 

It wasn’t filled with lively children. It was so small and there weren't many kids in the area. A bigger and well maintained park lied in the heart of the town. Instead of maintaining this park, it just slowly seemed to rot away. 

Old paint peeled and was never repainted. The slide had a long worn spot along the metal where people used to slide down over and over again. The once playful laughter of kids had been replaced by a haunted stillness. 

The rocking animals were covered in a layer of heavy grime and rust. Over the years, the weather poured and snowed. Temperatures skyrocketed and then they froze again. Without maintenance and proper upkeep, the smiling bunny rabbit, and what looked to be a dinosaur, had been left to fend for themselves. 

“So what’s it really?” Minho tried again. 

It’s the one thing that you had bittersweet feelings about. No matter what you felt, he always picked up on it if it was a negative feeling. As if he was personally skimming through the thoughts in your brain and reading them word-for-word. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re not in the right body?” 

All that was left was the squeakiness of the merry-go round. His foot had picked up as you spun in a slow circle. He glanced off to the side and slowly blinked. The words were echoing in his head as he attempted to put a response together. 

“I suppose that I do feel like that sometimes, yeah. I’ll question different parts of myself, but at the end of the day, I’m me and I think that’s pretty cool.” 

You scoffed and shook your head. “Pretty cool? Yeah, well, it’s not pretty fucking cool when you don’t have half the population simping over your good looks.” 

“I hit a nerve, huh?” 

You shook your head and shoved your leg out to stop the spin. Instead, Minho kicked wildly at the ground. You yelped and clutched the pole you clung to while your body jerked back by the force of gravity. 

“Don’t go. I was half-kidding, but I was also serious. The great thing about life is that a person can change. We can fix our features and we can change our clothes. If we don’t like our hair color, we ca-” 

“And what about the color of our skin? What about the people we’re sexually attracted to? What if I feel like I’m in the wrong body with the wrong parts? If I’m just a puzzle and all the pieces are scrambled? What then?” 

“I’d say fuck the people who ever made you feel that way because you shouldn’t have to worry about things like that. Those are things that you shouldn’t have to change to please people.” 

“I just want to be accepted,” you finally whispered softly. 

The creaking began to fade away as the two of you came to a slow stop. The sun was disappearing quicker and quicker. Darkness was creeping from above, but it couldn’t hide the pools of sadness in your eyes. 

It didn’t stop the way your body curled in around itself. The flicker of the past and present colliding. Your young self pushing through the reflection of you and searching for that same praise and validation that you always had. You craved validation like a kid craved a proud parent. 

You’d go to the ends of the earth for someone, as long as it meant being recognized. At the end of the day, it was all you ever wanted. You wanted to be seen. You wanted to be heard. You wanted someone to reach out and clutch onto you and say it back. 

“I exist. I’m alive. I’m here and I’m breathing. Despite the hate, despite the disappointment, despite it all, I’m still here. I’m fighting, I’m trying, and I’m surviving.” 

The world wasn’t always kind to those with differences. How could it be? To be different was to be bizarre. An outcast. A freak. A weirdo. It terrified people to be different. 

“What if I’ll never be good enough?” You finally uttered weakly. “What if I’m just what people say I am?” 

“But what if you're not? What if you’re someone with an amazing heart? What if you’re someone who heals people in ways you don’t understand? What if you radiate sunshine and you don’t even realize it because the rain clouds are blocking your vision?” 

You hated how much hope you found in a single person because it felt like the world was screaming at you. You were being swallowed and thrown into a vortex with nowhere to scream. 

Rumors ran wild on social media. Society always seemed to throw you into a molded stereotype, even if you didn’t quite fit. You were stretched to be someone you weren’t. Squashed down just to be another statistic in a textbook. 

“You know…” he leaned back against the metal pole. The coolness sat among his spine and straightened his posture. “Sometimes there’s not enough people out there that speak up. Sometimes they’re anxious and other times, they’re just scared in general.” 

“But sometimes,” he continued, “some people admire others from afar. Things aren’t always so black and white. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you're not. You might feel like you have to, but you don’t.” 

His foot swung out again. Slowly, he shifted and he pushed himself backwards with the force. “This life can be a blessing or a curse, it’s up to you to handle however things are thrown at you.” 

Your eyes found the ground. He noticed it instantly, but he didn’t let up. “I hope one day you find the peace you need to find within yourself. I know I’m not a hundred people, but I know we’re friends and you value my opinion. No matter what you struggle with, I’m happy that you’re you.” 

He pushed a bit faster and a loud creak sounded. At that moment, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered as he spoke. You drank his words like a special elixir because you needed them more than ever. 

Life could be hard and people could be cruel. Self-doubt could slither in like a snake and have you choking for air before you knew it. It meant so much coming from someone like him. 

“I like you more than other people.” 

“Why can’t you just say ‘I love you’ like a normal person?” You tried to keep it together, but your voice cracked. It gave away just how vulnerable and lost you were feeling. 

“Love?” His face scrunched up. “Bleh. I don’t have time for that. I don’t think love is anywhere in my vocabulary.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Yeah, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He shoved his foot hard across the ground. A handful of mulch fluttered in different directions and you screeched. He grinned and launched himself up onto his feet. He kicked again and again and again. You spun faster and faster, it felt like flying. 

That childish happiness was back. Around and around you went and where you ended up, nobody knew. How you landed was up to you. Your laughter tangled together beneath the yellowed streetlights. 

The abandoned playground finally felt the familiar warmth of innocence and laughter once more. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

[anpanman95]

so I just read a post from @everythingiloveblog and—first of all go check it out it has incredible insights and constructive criticism— I feel OP has made an incredible point which brings me to something that bothers me from episode 10:

Okay. I understand Jack and Joke have a…very unusual relationship. I know they’ve been through hell and back, together and apart, and their bond is stronger than ever.

And, ever since the beginning, they show us a dynamic that doesn’t promise to be all “lovey-dovey” or cute or anything like that.

That’s fine. We’re all here for it. Every relationship is different, and actors Yin and War have made it clear Jack and Joke’s dynamic was going to be different.

But, and this is a big, big but, there are things I do not agree with, and I’ll start by casting light on this moment right here where they say “I love you” for the first time.

Emphasis on the first time.

That was not a first time “I love you”. That’s not how you say I love you for the first time to your lover with whom you’ve been through hell and back.

I mean yes, they’ve shown it plenty, but still. This moment was, and I’m very sorry if I ruffle some feathers, to me, very bro-coded (there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just not very engaging for me)

And as much as I love their dynamic, as much as I love their characters, it felt incredibly underwhelming and lacking of a tenderness I was desperately craving after such a long slow burn. I know I may be coming from a more “romantic” point of view, but what’s wrong with a little romance?

I really would have loved them to be a bit sweeter, or more tender about it.

Another thing is the closing scene at the hospital; sure, Joke later tells Jack he was the one who betrayed, but Jack didn’t know that right away, and the first thing he saw was the man he loves in shambles, bawling his eyes out, visibly in need to be held, and he didn’t take him into his arms nor made any move to get at least physically closer to him.

That put me off, if I’m being honest. Aren’t they supposed to be in love and care for one another? Jack did say “I’ll only focus on you” and, yeah, he’s angry and confused about Save and worried about his daughter but it would have been very human of him to at least seek and give comfort to the person he loves.

They do have their moments, their chemistry is top tier, and that’s undeniable. But there are certain little actions that would be very realistic for them to partake in, and it leaves me a tad unsatisfied when they don’t.

Of course, I’m still eating this up, I’ll take anything. Yin and War did an incredible job with this show, and this is just a bit of criticism, done in my most humble, respectful opinion.

Thanks for reading! I know some will not agree and that’s fine! Let’s just all be respectful about it! ✨🫶🏽

(post from OP)

[fanficsbysteve]

The Best for the Both of Them

This will be my first foray into writing fanfiction in a long long time so please be kind. Constructive Criticism is always welcome. Hate Mail is not. I also haven't used Tumblr in awhile so if anyone has any suggestions on how I can make my posts better or easier for you all to read, please let me know.

Rated: PG? WC: 4863

___________________________________________________________

 “I’ll see you around Buck”, Tommy stood for a second before he walked to the door and out of Evan’s loft. His mind was reeling from what he just did. Evan had been the best thing to ever happen to him, and he had just ended it. Did he do the right thing? He kept walking eventually coming to his truck. He got in and looked up at the windows to Evan’s loft. He saw his now ex-boyfriend standing there looking out at him.

                “This is the best thing for both of us,” he told himself as he started the truck up and drove off towards his house, “It was never meant to last anyways. I’m his first not his last” he just kept telling himself that as a means of justifying it to himself. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes as he drove towards his house. He didn’t want to do that. Evan was the sweetest and most caring person he had ever known. But he couldn’t handle the heartbreak if he decided that Tommy wasn’t enough for him. Yes that was an incredibly Biphobic mentality to have, and he knew it, but your brain is never logical when it comes to your emotions and your potential for heartbreak.

                He pulled into his driveway and turned off his truck. Sitting in his truck he let the tears start to roll down his cheeks. Sobs racked his body as he just let out all the sadness that he was feeling over what he had done. He desperately wanted to take out his phone and call Evan and say he was sorry. Say he didn’t mean it. Beg him for forgiveness. But he knew he couldn’t do that. No this was how it had to be.

                After about 10 minutes of the ugliest crying, he had ever done in his life, he composed himself, got out of his truck and head inside his house. It was going to be a long night, and he knew it. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                Tommy took a couple days off work so he could just get all his crying out. His work best friend, Jessica, had come by a couple times during that time to check in on him and see how he was doing. She reported to him that he always looked like shit and that he needed to pull himself together. She really didn’t get it though did she. She had been with her husband for as long as he knew her.

                After the third day, Tommy again pulled himself together and compartmentalize all his emotions like he had grown accustomed to all those many years ago. Looking around his house he found so many things that reminded him of Evan. Some of his clothes that he had left behind after a night over, a toothbrush, some different knickknacks that he bought for Tommy to keep in his apartment to remind him. Sighing, Tommy picked up a box and started to place all of Evan’s items into it. He kept the pictures. And a hoodie. He may have broken up with Evan, but he didn’t want to forget about him completely. He was a big part of his life for the past 6 months. Everything else went into this box.

                He spent the better part of a day trying to decide the best way to get these items back to Evan. He didn’t feel ready to see Evan again so going to the loft to drop them off was probably not in the cards. Maybe Eddie or Chim could get them to him. Though not sure if that was going to be easy either. They were both closer to Evan than they were to him. Wouldn’t hurt to try anyways.

                Tommy took out his phone and shot a quick text message off to Eddie. He didn’t expect anything back right away, but little did he know, “You fucked up bud” was all he got back at first.

“Don’t you think I thought this through,” he responded back.

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck up” Eddie wrote back.

“I have a bunch of Evan’s stuff that he left at my place that needs to get back to him,” Tommy wrote quickly, “And I don’t think either of us wants to see each other right now.”

“I spent the past 3 days with a very drunk Evan pining over you hard,” Eddie replied, “You have no idea how badly this is affecting him.”

“He doesn’t know how this is affecting me either,” Tommy sent back, “Can I leave his stuff with you, and you give it to him?”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Eddie wrote back, “But I think the two of you need to talk this out. Sometime before my liver gives out.”

                Tommy sighed and took the box to his Truck, meaning to head towards Eddie’s house. At least Eddie was still talking to him, which was a good sign. He hadn’t fucked things up with the entire 118 at least. He drove about an hour to get to Eddie’s house. Seeing Evan’s Jeep parked out front, Tommy drove right past the front of Eddie’s house and parked a ways up the street so that he wouldn’t be noticed. God, he needed to mature up, but he really didn’t want to see Evan right now. He had just gotten himself to stop crying and he knew that if he saw him it would start the tears up again.

                Tommy slowly walked up towards Eddie’s house, navigating like some weird stalker up the sidewalk and deposited the box outside the door to Eddie’s house. He snapped a quick picture of the box and Eddie’s door and hurried down the walkway, sending a picture of the box to Eddie with a quick message of “I can’t see him yet. The box is outside your door.”

                Tommy drove back to his place, hyperventilating a little bit over what could have happened. He needed to stay strong. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                It had been a month since he ended things with Evan. Work kept him busy so that was beneficial for him. He could throw himself into work and forget everything. He did tend to avoid using the mouth static because it reminded him of Evan. His captain was probably very appreciative of that.

                Tommy had taken to using Tinder to see if he could get someone to date again. He did miss the companionship that Evan gave. Someone to hold at night. Problem was that he was trying to pick a fish from the sea that was Gay LA. The amount of people that just wanted to have sex with him far outweighed the people looking for a nice date.

                He did find the rare gentlemen not looking for a quick fuck which was nice. Tommy wasn’t ready to dip his toes back into THAT market just yet. Besides if he wanted that he would have been on Grindr, not Tinder. Men were just horndogs no matter where they were.

                Tommy swiped right on a handsome man that he saw and got the “Match” signal, so he started messaging this person. He was 5’6, fit, brown hair, blue eyes, worked as a nurse at one of the local hospitals. Tommy decided to go on a date with this guy. Have a nice dinner and a movie. That was his typical first date. Had it been that before Evan and will continue to be that after. He just needed to figure out a restaurant.

                The night of the date came, and Tommy met this new guy at the restaurant. His name was Bryant, and he was closer to Tommy’s age than Evan had been. He wouldn’t admit it in person, but he felt a little bad when he and Evan were together since there was such a large age gap.

                Bryant had chosen a nice Vietnamese restaurant to meet up at, and Tommy would be picking the movie. They ordered their dishes after sitting and waited. Tommy looked around the room a bit, taking in his surroundings. It was a nice place, he thought, and then a thought he didn’t want to have came up ‘Evan would really like this. He likes to try all kinds of new food.’

                He had to stop himself. He was drifting off into thinking of Evan and that wouldn’t have ended well. Bryant was talking and Tommy hadn’t heard a thing he said in his revelry. God he was the worst person to go on a date with right now. His thoughts constantly running back to Evan like some kind of sick masochist. No, he wouldn’t let that man keep such a vice grip on his heart. This was the best of the both of them.

***

                It had been 6 months since he had broken up with Evan. He had managed to match with about 10 very nice gentlemen in that time, and failed to go on a second date with about 6 of them. Why was he so bad at this? It was never this bad with Evan. Not even remotely. They always got along and always had things to talk about.

                Sitting down at the coffee shop, a handsome Latin man sitting across from him, Tommy sipped at his drink while half listening to the man talking about his life. He was interested, really he was. He just couldn’t make his mind focus. It kept going back to thoughts of Evan.

                The bell above the door rang as someone came in again. They were sitting near to the door, so Tommy had a bird’s eye view of the people walking in. And what he saw made his heart clench in his chest. Walking in through that doorway was Evan. He was there with a very beautiful blonde woman. God, he looked amazing still. Hopefully he didn’t see Tommy.

                Quickly looking away, Tommy hoped against all hope that Evan didn’t notice him. He didn’t want to create a scene or end things badly on this date. His date seemed to notice as he asked what was going on?

                “Ex-boyfriend just walked in,” Tommy replied. His breathing had slightly deepened after Evan walked into the shop, so he suggested that they take their drinks and go for a walk.

                He couldn’t be in the same room with Evan. It was too hard to see him. He did look happy though. Walking out of the coffee shop, his date heading out before him, he glanced back hoping, while also not hoping, to catch a glimpse of Evan again. Looking right at him, his blue eyes trying to hide a sadness that he could match was Evan. God how he missed that man. He turned back around and left the coffee shop, not wanting to feel the pain that his heart was currently feeling. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                It had been three days since Tommy saw Evan at the coffee shop. Things had fizzled out again with the latest in a long line of dates he had gone on. Honestly, it was getting a little depressing for him. But he kept on trying. Maybe one day someone will click with him.

                His phone buzzed and he absently picked it up without looking to see who the message was from and opened it. His heart skipped a beat when he looked at it. It was from Evan and just said one word “Hey”.

                Tommy was freaking out a bit. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had taken a break and wanted Evan to experience his life now. He would have done the same had he been the first for a gay man. It wasn’t fair to tie someone down into a relationship if they hadn’t fully experienced life to its fullest.

                “Hey,” Tommy replied back, “Saw you at the coffee shop a few days ago. You look good”

                Tommy stared at the screen at the Typing bubble showed up on his phone. It was agonizing waiting to hear back. One minute. Two minutes. Was he writing the next great American novel over there?

                “It was nice to see you as well,” was the reply. Eight words? It took him that long to write eight words? The typing bubble showed up again, “Can we meet up? I have some things I need to talk to you about.”

                Tommy stared at his phone. Could he do this? It had been 6 months. Surely things had settled between them enough that they could have a cordial meet up right? “I could do that. Do you know a place?”

                “Let’s get pizza for old times sake,” Evan replied. Tommy felt his heart beat a little harder in his chest, “You know the place. Did you want me to pick you up or meet you there?”

                Tommy stared at the phone. While he would have loved to go there together, he knew that he couldn’t. Not easily anyways. 6 months they had been apart but every thought in his mind was about Evan. He had never had a relationship with anyone, quite like the one he had with Evan. There was something about it, “I can meet you there. 8 pm? Know a day?”

                “Can we meet tonight?” Tommy’s heart fluttered in his chest. Did he dare accept?

                While his brain was overthinking every situation that could come of this, his heart took control of his hands and he typed back, “That can work. I’ll see you there.”

                “See you there,” was the reply. Tommy put his phone down and let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding. This could go so many ways. Picking up his phone again and looking at the time, Tommy had about 3 hours to get ready. The Pizza place that Buck wanted to go to wasn’t too far from where Tommy lived. Maybe a 30 minute drive. It gave him time to look his best. They may be broken up, but Tommy definitely didn’t want Evan to see him look a mess.

                He went about getting ready and he felt his heart fill with joy a little bit. He also started to have second thoughts on the breakup. Was this the best for the both of them?

***

                Tommy walked up to the entrance to the restaurant at just before 8 pm. He was trying not to hyperventilate about what was about to happen. He stopped at the door and stood for a second, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he walked in.

                He could see Evan sitting at a table off to the right of the entrance. Tommy had a little bit of a chuckle. His brain was not thinking in perfect thoughts right now, but he just loved the idea of him picking a table slightly to the right of centre when the last happy conversation they had was about the Kinsey Scale and how Tommy was a solid 6.

                He walked over and sat in the chair across from Evan, “Hey” he said. It was his general greeting for everyone.

                “Hey,” Evan looked up to him, a light of what looked like happiness hiding in his eyes, “Thank you for coming”

                “I didn’t have anything planned for tonight,” Tommy smiled but his eyes just kept taking in this man sitting in front of him. God he was beautiful, “Your text caught me by surprise though. Can’t say I was expecting it, but it was a nice surprise.”

                “Yeah, well when I saw you at the coffee shop, I knew I had to reach out,” Evan smiled and looked down at his hands, “It just took me 3 days to send that first message. I kept psyching myself out and telling myself not to and that you hated me and that you didn’t want to hear from me”

                “I could never hate you Ev…Buck,” Tommy quickly changed the name he called him. He had been thinking of his as Evan for so long that he had forgotten that friends call him Buck, “I was the one who broke it off with you. If anything, you should be hating me.”

                Tommy saw Evan deflate a bit when he changed the name he called him. But what was he supposed to do? They were broken up. And as much as Tommy wished it, they weren’t going to get back together. Tommy had messed that up already with what he said when they broke up. The best he could hope for is salvage and become friends and just watch from the outside and be supportive while Evan found someone new.

                “I could never hate you either Tommy,” He whispered. He was still looking down. Tommy reached across the table and gently put a couple fingers underneath Evans chin and lifted his head so they could look each other in the eye. Tommy was a little shocked to see the barest hint of what could only be tears in Evans eyes.

                Tommy coughed quickly, “Anyways should we order something? I want to hear all about your life since the last time we saw each other.”

                Tommy picked up his menu and used it to hide his face a bit. The tears and look of sadness on Evan’s face was going to get to him if he didn’t compose himself. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

                They eventually ordered a pizza to share and some drinks, “So the woman I saw you at the coffee shop was very pretty. Did things go well?”

                Evan was a little taken aback by that statement, “You think she’s pretty? I thought you were a 6 on the Kinsey Scale?”

                “Just because I can notice when someone is attractive doesn’t mean that I want to immediately have sex with them,” Tommy chuckled. That broke the downer mood that had been soaking the two of them since the moment he sat down. Evan chuckled as well, “Society has its standards of beauty in men, women, and anyone in between. These are drilled into us from an early age. You ask a straight man who the most attractive man to them is, and I can almost guarantee you that they will give you one of the Chrises or one of the Ryan’s”

                Evan smiled at that, “Chrises and Ryan’s?” This man was clueless sometimes. Tommy smiled at him. This man could find a substack about some 200 year old cowboy but he knew nothing about the Kinsey Scale or the Chrises and Ryans.

                “Well first you have the easy ones, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, and Chris Pratt. They have all been in Marvel movies, so everyone knows about them. Then you toss in Chris Pine, and you have the Chrises. Chris Pine is the odd one out as he hasn’t been in Marvel, and he has what some people call an Odd Attractiveness. The other Chrises are conventionally attractive,” Tommy took a sip of his drink before he continued, “Then you have the Ryan’s. Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling. Both very attractive men in their own rights and both very famous for various different reasons.”

                “I never thought of it that way,” Evan replied, “I always thought that just because you were straight or gay you didn’t really notice the other gender.”

                “Well, you have much to learn my Baby Bi,” Tommy chuckled, “You didn’t answer my question though. How did things go with the blonde at the coffee shop? Don’t think you can change the subject by claiming your naivety in things around the LGBT+ world.”

                Evan smiled and it melted Tommy’s heart, it was good to see him like this, “It went OK. We aren’t planning anything else though. Seeing you at the shop put me in a bit of a mood.”

                “I’m sorry about that,” Tommy replied, “She looked like she was your type. Well, I think. I don’t really know your type when it comes to women.”

                “I don’t really have a type when it comes to anyone really,” Evan explained, “I just find certain people attractive and decide then and there if I want to date them. She was pretty but not what I was looking for I guess.”

                “Well, that sucks,” Tommy replied, “I haven’t had much luck either. Nothing clicks I guess.”

                “Its hard to find something like what we had,” Evan replied. He sounded sad again. Tommy didn’t know how to make him happy again right now, so he just took a bite of his pizza on his plate.

                They ate in silence, Tommy sneaking glances at Evan, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He thinks he got caught at least once and quickly started looking off into the restaurant, trying to hide what he was doing. This was truly one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. He was a fool for letting this go.

                After they finished their pizza, it was time for dessert. Evan ordered a tiramisu, and Tommy ordered his usual Spumoni. What could he say, it was his favorite. And when you know you like something, you always go back to it.

                While Tommy was thinking to himself, he caught sight of a spoon reaching across the table and taking a piece out of his dessert, “Hey!”

                Evan smiled as he placed the frozen dessert into his mouth. Tommy smiled a little. Picking up his spoon, Tommy reached across and took a scoop of Evans dessert. He got an indignant little squeak from Evan over that as he raised it to his mouth, “All’s fair in love and war Evan.”

                Tommy watched as Evan’s smile grew wider as he heard his name spoken out loud. Tommy didn’t realize that it was going to happen. He smiled a bit before taking the bite of Buck’s dessert.

                They back and forth stole each other’s desserts until there was nothing left on the plate, and they were giggling like two school boys who had seen something naughty, “I miss this,” Evan said with a sigh, “I miss you.”

                Tommy stopped giggling and looked directly at Evan. Had he heard what he thought he heard?

                “I miss seeing you come home after work, covered in soot. I miss standing in the kitchen cooking us dinner, you coming up behind me just to hold me. I miss waking up in your arms,” Evan continued, “I miss us.”

                “Evan,” Tommy tried to get him to stop. This was hurting him too much, but Evan lifted up a hand.

                “Let me finish,” Evan continued to talk, “We came here to talk about life so let me finish and then you can have your say,” He put his hand down and took a breath, “Over the past 6 months I admit that I did try dating new people. Men, women, I think I went out with a non-binary person once as well. And each and every one of those ended the same. Me alone in my loft. They always ended up the same because of one thing. They weren’t you. None of them were you. It took me a while to fully understand what happened between us.

                Tommy stared at Evan as he spoke. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he tried to stop them, but they just started to fall down his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted this. He just wanted to talk to Evan again. To be a part of his life again.

                “I realize now that I wanted the future with the idea I had of you. I wanted the idea I had of you move in with me in my Loft, which lets face it, was a ridiculous thing to say at the time,” Tommy noticed that Evan was essentially talking to his hands as they wrung a napkin in his hands, “And it took me talking to Maddie, Eddie, Josh, and basically everyone in the 118 to realize what I did to you. And to understand why you did what you did. You were scared. You were scared of being hurt and I understand that now. You didn’t want to be hurt so you hurt yourself and me in the process.”

                The tears were steadily going down Tommy’s cheeks at this point. He wasn’t a super emotional person. He worked in a life or death job. He saw people die all the time. He could compartmentalize everything. But right now, he was failing at that.

                “I tried to hate you at the start of it,” Evan still hadn’t looked up. Why wouldn’t he look at Tommy, “I tried really hard. But I couldn’t. You had just broken my heart, and I couldn’t hate you. It wasn’t until a month in when I was visiting Maddie at work, and the wise gay sage that is Josh was there and he gave me some words of wisdom, ‘You jumped ahead too far. You are currently seeing a future with who you think Tommy is. Not who Tommy actually is. And until you figure out which one you want to have a future with, you need to sit back and think about what it is you truly want. Do you want the idea of Tommy that you have? This unattainable statuesque Greek God of a man. Or do you want Tommy, the man who was engaged to a woman for 2 years, who had to survive the military at the height of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Tommy who is scarred beyond what you can see. And when you decide which, it is that you want, well the universe will bring you what you need.’ And then he just made a dramatic exit from the room.”

                Tommy chuckled a little while the tears kept flowing. He kept looking towards Evan, “Now I know that it was you who broke things off with me, in a not very classy fashion by the way,” Evan finally looked up from the napkin he had basically shredded into tiny pieces during his speech, “But I wanted to see if maybe, you wanted to try again? Try being together? It took me awhile to realize that I wanted the Tommy with all the scars that I never got a chance to learn about. The visible and invisible ones. You don’t need to answer right away. I can give you time to think about it. But I know that it is you that I want. You that I need in my life. You that I see a future with.”

                Tommy stood up, his eyes blurry at this point, walked around the table towards Evan, leaned down, placed his hand gently on Evan’s chin, and kissed him with as much love and passion as he could muster. He didn’t want this to stop. He couldn’t let this stop. Of course he wanted Evan back.

                The kiss ended and they were both breathless. The noise of the restaurant hadn’t died down so hopefully nobody was staring at their very obvious display, “Should I take that as a yes?” Evan was breathless and Tommy was as well. He nodded his head vigorously.

                Evan’s smile became the widest that Tommy had ever seen. He didn’t know how to take that. Evan grabbed him and pulled him in close, nuzzling his head into the crook of Tommy’s neck, “We should probably pay the bill and go I guess,” Tommy said eventually, enjoying holding Evan again. It had been too long, and he missed the gentle breathing.

                Tommy reluctantly let Evan go so they could pay their bill and head out, “House or Loft?” Evan asked as they walked out the door.

                “Huh?” Tommy was confused.

                “House or loft? If you think I’m going to spend tonight alone, you have another thing coming. So will we spend the night at the house or loft?” Evan explained.

                Tommy smiled, realizing that this was all his again. This perfect man, with his substacks, his belief in curses and his random spirals into insanity. This was all his again. Walking towards his truck, Tommy smiled and said, “House,” before getting in, “Though we’ll need to stop by your loft to grab some items for you for the morning after.”

                Tommy watched as Evan smiled. That smile always made him melt. Before he had met Evan, he was reserved. He had slowly started to come out of his shell a bit. To be more of the man that Evan had seen he could be. He still had worked to do before he was that person. But with Evan by his side, maybe he could be that person. Maybe the idea of Tommy that Evan had in the past could be the Tommy he gets in the future. Only time would tell at least.

Sitting on the drivers side of his truck, Evan on the passengers side, Tommy shifted his truck into gear and backed out of his parking stall. He felt a hand over top of his on the gear shift and smiled. This. This was what was best for the both of them.

***

And that's the end of that. Thank you all for reading. I wrote this because S8xE06 really irked me so I wanted to fix it somehow. Let me know what you think.

[weirdsht]

How are you, beautiful?. How about your life?. If it doesn't bother you, can I make a request Cale Henituse x isekai reader?.. Where does the reader not want to interfere with the story even though the reader loves this story but the reader is more important and chooses a peaceful life.. However, the reader often ran into Cale and his group made the reader always run away (just helping silently) because the reader didn't sign for it...Cale started to suspect because they met often.Reader often rejected Cale's offers 😂😂..Comedy and chaos

Leave Me Alone! - LoTCF & Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, transmigrated reader, cursing at the end

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

“Ugh… what time is it..? Wait am I late for my classes!?”

You jolted up and rushed to feel for your phone, only to not get a hold of it making your heart drop.

Frantic, you rummage through the bedsheets, hoping you will soon find your beloved device. However, instead of your phone, you instead notice how you don’t seem to be in your room.

As you finally look around your surroundings you can see that you’re in a completely different place. Everything around you looked extra luxurious, you were almost blinded by how shiny everything was. Aside from that, unknown tools are also neatly scattered around the room. You don’t recognise them, but they look like magical tools that one would see in a fantasy anime or manhwa.

Creek.

“Oh my! The young master is awake! I shall fetch the healer!”

Before you could think about where you were and what happened to you, a woman wearing a traditional maid uniform opened the door. She seems to be in shock to see you awake. And so, she disappeared as fast as she came.

Not even a minute later, she came back to the room you were residing in. On her tow seems to be a healer. Once they settled in, the healer immediately got to work to check your body. As they do you wonder how you would be able to play this off. It doesn’t look like you’re in your world anymore, nor does it look like you have a way to go back.

“Miss, who are you? Where am I?”

The amnesia route it is.

“Who am I?”

The maid looks like she’s about to cry and have a heart attack at the same time. You feel bad, you really do, but it’s not like you can pretend to know information when you don’t even know where you got transmigrated. 

“Everything else is okay now except for their memory. The cause is most likely from the impact they sustained during the accident. We don’t know when those old memories will resurface. In fact, we can’t be sure if they ever will. My only advice is to not force them to remember anything as it could do more harm than good.”

With that, the healer excused himself to go to his next appointment leaving you with the maid.

Looking at the maid made you wonder if you’re in a historical manhwa and that you’re a child of a wealthy noble. Maybe you’re in one of those cliche tropes where you transmigrated as the villain and need to try to take down all the death flags waving.

“What are we going to do now young master? First, you lost your parents and now you lost your memories…”

The maid sobbed for a few more minutes before gathering herself and finally explaining your predicament.

Apparently, the only part you got right was the wealthy part. Your name is still [Name] [Lastname] surprisingly enough and you’re a magician’s child. Unlike other magicians who are neck-deep into their research, your parents focused more on commerce. The result of their efforts is the wealth your family has now, the [Lastname] family are as wealthy as nobles because of various magical tools they invent and sell.

“Of course, we are not as wealthy as the Henituse family or any of the duchies in the kingdom.”

Well, that’s a given since the Henituse is on a different level.

…wait Henituse? Like Cale Henituse? From the holy trinity of web novels? Lout of the Count’s Family?

And so that was how you confirmed that you have been transmigrated in your beloved manhwa/web novel as a no-name extra that isn’t even mentioned once.

The life of a wealthy, orphaned amnesiac seems to be good to you. You have everything at your disposal as there are servants at your every beck and call. Income is also a no-brainer as your body seems to remember mana and how it works. Creating and modifying magical tools and potions come to you easily.

In the midst of everything you still manage to find time to support your favourite characters from behind the scenes. You don’t have any plans on stepping into the limelight but you also can’t help but meddle a little since you hold those characters belovedly in your heart.

‘If Cale Henituse can’t stay still and live as a wealthy slacker then I shall do it for him!’

That was supposed to be the plan.

“Good day I am Ron and I am a servant of young master Cale Henituse.”

So why is this goddamn assassin interrupting your tea time at your favourite cafe!?

“Ah, the new hero of the kingdom. What could such a person need with a humble person like myself?”

You blatantly put your guard up, showing the cunning man you won’t give in to his whims.

“A prodigy such as yourself can hardly be called humble. But on that note, our young master would like to avail your services.”

…what now?

“I’m sorry Mister Ron but I do not do commissions. I work to provide for the masses, free from the constraint of an employer even if it’s a temporary one.”

You composed yourself and pushed down the urge to throw a fit right then and there. But Ron didn’t seem to notice your efforts as he slid a bag of gold coins across the table. He probably thinks you’d do the job at the right price.

“Money won't change anything. I have enough to sustain me for a lifetime. Now please excuse me as I only wish to lounge around.”

With that, you stood up and left the cafe.

The days following that weren’t easy. Everywhere you go, you seem to bump into one of Cale’s people. It has gotten to a point where you have to pause your meddling endeavours because they almost caught you a couple of times.

But since when has fate been on anyone’s side in LoTCF?

“I’m Choi Han from the Henituse family I am here on behalf of Cale-nim.”

“I’m Hans visiting on behalf of young master Cale.”

“I am the priestess Cage, I am visiting with Marquis Taylor Stan to conduct business.”

“Can you help this poor soul named Bob?”

“Hello, I’m Cale Henituse. I’m sure you’ve met the people I sent to your house.”

Cale Henituse is more persistent than you thought. He wouldn’t stop no matter how much you try to refuse his antics. It even came to a point where he had to visit you himself.

But still, even if you love his character deeply… there’s no way you would let yourself be caught up in his whims.

It’ll be the end of your peaceful life once that happens.

“Young master [Name] the prince, his Highness Alberu Crossman has ordered your presence in his castle.”

“That fu–”

“Did you say something, young master?”

“Ah no… you must’ve heard wrong.”

You plastered a smile on your face as the maid handed you the summon letter. The maid excused herself after handing you the letter to give you privacy. 

Just before you could open the letter you could hear some rustling from the window. You cautiously approached it as the noise seemed to be deliberate. Once you got on the windowsill you noticed a piece of folded paper neatly tucked in.

Goodluck 

“That fucking piece of shit! Favourite character my ass!”

[maceysbookclub]

4 types of criticism

So my Criticism vs Bullying post went well, I thought I would Expand on it a bit.

There are 4 types of criticism. Positive constructive, Negative constructive, Positive Destructive, and Negative Destructive.

Positive Constructive is what we all want to hear. "I love this so much, this character is written so well. I like when they do x or y." The unfortunate thing is we don't get enough affirmations when we do something well and this is the rarest form of criticism. You will only experience this when you have an audience who really like your work.

Negative Constructive is the bread and butter of criticism. You need to be told what doesn't work so you can improve. "I didn't like this because this character did x and that's not believable." You should love this, even though it might hurt to admit your faults. Do not fight against this criticism, people are trying to help you.

Positive Destructive, the worst enemy of the beginner. You probably got this without knowing it. You ask a friend or family or loved ones to look at your work. Then a few weeks later, ask them what they think. "Oh, I liked it, keep going." Like great input, what did you like? Did you even read it? Was there anything you didn't like? I need help. They mean well, but don't want to discourage you with criticism. Unfortunately this comes off as uncaring, but the reality is they weren't interested, or they didn't have time to spare. Don't blame them, they have lives where you aren't the center of their world. They want to help, but you are asking the wrong person. Just accept the compliment and keep looking for a better test subject.

Negative Destructive is just frustrating. It gives you little to work with and offers no insight. "I hated this character." At least you got that they didn't like something, now you need to figure out what they didn't like about the character. This is probably the most common form of criticism and it usually isn't meant to be mean, but the critic doesn't know what they didn't like or how to communicate it.

Criticism can be harsh, but the people who care most about your work are the ones giving it. Think of the people who pile on to big things like star wars. They like it, so they want to make it clear that they don't like the changes. They want the end result to be good, and if you fight against them, you are actively hurting your audience. This is a big issue in the games industry right now, where developers refuse to take criticism and are attacking the players who care most about the games. They are making the players out to be the bad guy when all they want is to help and be involved in something they care about.

Not all criticism is correct, but it is worth listening to. You get to hear who the people are who want to support you. Just because you disagree doesn't mean they don't have value to share.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Hiii pretties! Welcome to my blog!! Please keep things positive and stay slutty my friends!!!

~If you have any requests, please feel free to leave it in my inbox!!!~

Masterlist: The Watcher (Part One, Part Two, ...)

you can read the rest if you wanna like know more about me n shit ig

Hello!! I'm Kay, or K, kat, whatever you wanna call me. I'm literally just a girl. I am a freakkkk. I do be a bit of a stoner y'all, and I usually am high when I write, so if I make a mistake, I'm blaming that. I'm from the United States (unfortunately) and I only speak English. This is a safe place; I am always here if anyone wants to talk. I do not discriminate; I do not spread hate. I do not and will not tolerate hate or unkind behavior towards me or others here on my blog. Like seriously guys I have bad anxiety, so please be nice and don't make it harder for me.

This is pretty much solely for Outer Banks, Rafe Cameron to be more specific. But, feel free to talk to me about other things!

Other things I'm interested in/passionate about: Taylor Swift, veterinary medicine, Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, The Walking Dead, 13 Reasons Why, Supernatural, Jurassic Park/World, Harry Potter, The Maze Runner, The Hunger Games, comedy movies (Seth Rogen & James Franco). I love cold weather, books, and cats. Music is life and I listen to a little bit of everything so feel free to send songs.

I AM a student, so just keep in mind that I may be inactive because I’m in CLASS or doing work; because I will prioritize that over tumblr (well, i try). Other times I’m inactive because I am sleeping, or because I’m busy with LIFE. I am not tied to my tumblr and blog. I’ve had only positive experiences here so far, but I know that fanfic writers are often mistreated by readers, but guys we are all just people.

If you want me to hurry up and publish new work, don't tell me that, just interact with my blog and compliment my writing and that will motivate me more than anything else ever could. Also ASK AND REQUEST PLEASEEE!! I really enjoy and appreciate new ideas and feedback from other people's brains. I also appreciate constructive criticism. Don't be mean about it, but if you dislike or disagree with something, tell me politely. I like hearing feedback and am always working on improving my writing.

Seriously y'all, please please PLEASE do NOT be hateful. Do that on your own time, not here. I will not tolerate unnecessary attitude and hate. I believe in forgiveness, and I know that mistakes and misunderstandings happen. I will treat anyone and everyone with kindness and respect unless I have reason not to (really hoping I don't).

Who do I write for? I only write for Rafe Cameron. However, I'm not opposed to writing a little or sharing thoughts about other Outer Banks Characters!

What do I write? I will write literally almost anything. There’s no such thing as too much for me, so request away please. ------ As for darker topics, I will write them. Actually, a large portion of my work will include darker topics/themes/kinks, etc. I will write sensitive subjects too. But just because I live for that shit, doesn't mean everyone else does so I'll do my best to include warnings on all my work for any content that might potentially be triggering for others.

(Small warning: mentions of my mental struggles and self-destructive habits) I've always struggled mentally. I've always felt as though the way my brain works is different from everyone else; like something is wrong with me. But after many many years, I now have a better understanding of myself and how my brain works. Not to dump this on y'all, I swear I have a point, but I have diagnosed depression, anxiety, and ADHD. These things are all a big challenge I face in my day-to-day life and are often the leading cause of why I may take longer to write and publish things. I may take breaks, so don't worry if I'm not active, I will be back at some point. And I'll try my best to update you guys on when I'm gonna be less active or vice versa. Another way my mental health effects my writing is because when I write, a lot of the time my personal experiences or feelings will end up incorporated within my work, since well, it's all coming from my brain. I mostly write for myself to express my thoughts and feelings, having others read and actually enjoy my work is just an added bonus. But personally, I have struggled with self-harm for about one third of my life. I often get ideas for new works revolving around this theme and may publish things about it eventually. Themes such as mental illnesses, self-harm, abuse, insecurities, EDs, suicidal thoughts, unhealthy relationships (obv), toxic household, etc. will have a reoccurring appearance throughout my works. So just be prepared, I guess.

And like I said before, if anyone needs to talk, I am ALWAYS here and I am a very good listener.

Everyone is more than welcome to message me or leave anything in my inbox. Whether it's to chat, request something, ask something, literally whatever is welcome!! (Except hate I don't fw that)

Thank you for visiting my blog, I hope you enjoy! As always, be kind and stay slutty!

[newbatmanfan19]

Heyyyy so this is a draft of a draft of a chapter for a fic I’m writing. I did my best to make it work as a one-shot but some context for those who want it: It’s an AU focused on Helena Bertinelli. In this fic, she is the biological child of Bruce and Selina, but was given up for adoption by Selina, Bruce does not know about this kid (in Selina’s defense, she didn’t know where he was at the time.) Helena’s adopted father is not particularly fond of her so he sent her away to Saint Mary’s School for Troubled Girls, which turned out to be doing dealings with the Joker. Joker knows who Helena is (people talk in Gotham) so he kidnapped her and told her who her bio-parents were. She was eventually rescued by Batman and Robin!Jason and returned home… only to be sent to Healing Trails Academy six months later. Soooo Helena burns the place down and takes a little girl named Christina with her… hopefully you see my vision for this.

Christina is basically an OC but technically very loosely based on the Italian reporter featured in the Huntress comics. Helena is also basically an OC in terms of personality but I try to infuse as many canon elements as possible. That being said, I am going for accuracy in my portrayal of the rest of the characters (well, fanon accuracy for some, selective canon accuracy for others) I’d love some feedback/constructive criticism or even just general suggestions if anyones interested! This is my first batfam fic and I have spent almost two years getting to know these characters to prepare to write this but there are so many characters to learn :=[

CW: mentions of child abuse (I think that’s all)

…

Meeting Catwoman

Helena hadn’t meant to go following in her biological mothers footsteps quite so closely, but when the need arose, she wasn’t sure what else to do. If it had just been her, maybe she could get by on petty thievery and her wits, but it wasn’t just her. She had Christina to provide for and try to raise, even if Helena was only three years her senior. At only thirteen, it wasn’t like she could go out and get a job. No one Helena thought was worth working for would give one to her. She wasn’t particularly fond of having to resort to crime, but at least she was working for herself and not some skeezy crime lord.

It started simple, nabbing a wallet off an unsuspecting business man or snatching whatever was sticking out of a senile old lady’s grocery bags. Helena quickly found she had inherited her mothers talent for pick-pocketing, and she couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her to do so, as much as she wanted to hate every second of it.

Then, things escalated. She started breaking into some of the nicer houses in Gotham to grab jewels and trinkets, and from there…

Well, she started stepping on Catwoman’s claws.

It was fully intentional, Helena could admit that to herself. She wanted the Cat’s attention. As long as she kept up the jewel heists, it was only a matter of time before she ran into her mother. Helena just hadn’t anticipated it happening quite so quickly. She only just got her suit together, courtesy of Christina.

The moment she got her hands on the absolutely enormous diamond sitting on a nice, velvety pillow, she felt a presence behind her.

“Now, just what do you plan on doing with that after you steal it?”

Helena froze. Even with her back turned, she knew exactly who was speaking to her. After all the scheming she did just to get her mother in the same room as her, she hadn’t quite planned on what to do when she actually got face-to-face with the woman.

She recovered, grabbing the diamond and slipping it into one of the many hiding places Christina had sewn into Helena’s suit. She was certainly crafty with a sewing machine, that one. Then, Helena turned to face her mother, for the very first time in her whole life.

Catwoman was a sight to behold, Helena decided. She practically oozed confidence and charisma, even just standing there. Hands on her hips, staring expectantly at the young girl in front of her. Helena noted that her suit was remarkably similar to Selina’s, an intentional choice by Christina, no doubt. She was glad they were in the masks, Helena knew from her mild stalking of her parents that she was the spitting image of Selina, one look at her unmasked face and the Cat would know.

“Sell it?” Helena hadn’t intended for her response to come out as a question, but to be fair she never really planned on doing anything with it. She would have probably ended up returning it eventually.

The jewels she stole from houses were a dime a dozen. Expensive, but nothing precious, easily taken by the pawn shop owners who didn’t ask questions. Even if they did, she could come up with a story. But this diamond was sitting in a museum under several layers of (really, easily cracked) security for a reason. It was recognizable, she’d need to do dealings with some shady people in order to get rid of it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.

“Oh yeah? Who to?” Catwoman’s smirk grew even wider, if that was possible.

“None of your business.”

Catwoman sighed at that. She looked Helena up and down, crossing her arms in front of her as she eyed the girl, and for a moment Helena worried she was going to try to do something like fight her for it. She didn’t.

Instead, she held out her hand, palm facing up. “Come on, hand it over. What else are you going to do with it?”

Helena scoffed, like she actually thought she would give up that easily.

“Finders keepers. I got here first.”

“What are you anyway? Robin’s new arch nemesis or something?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Helena complained rather flatly. “I’m nobody's nothing. I’m just… a stray.”

“I can see that. Kids with parents don’t go running around committing grand larceny.” She sounded smug, so smug. What did she have to be so smug about?

I have parents. One of them is standing right in front of me.

Helena swallowed her protests and leveled a glare at the Cat instead. Catwoman narrowed her eyes at her and if Helena wondered if she was sizing her up before, she was sure of it now.

“You got someplace to go, kid?”

Helena scoffed even louder that time. How ironic. The woman who gave her up for adoption was now trying to take her in off the streets. Not that she could accept the offer, one look at Helena’s unmasked face and Selina would know exactly who she was. Bruce may be oblivious, but she had the advantage of actually knowing Helena existed in the first place. And if she knew who Helena was, well, she already got rid of her once.

“Do I look like I don’t have a place to go?”

“Maybe. You’re resourceful, I’ll give you that. Took down the security system before I even got here.” Catwoman started circling Helena, this time she was examining the suit, as opposed to the girl herself. “That suit is something, but you should really get some kevlar if you want in on the business. I know a guy.” She stopped once she was back in front of Helena. “You’re what? Twelve?”

“I’m almost fifteen!”

Okay, her birthday was 11 months away, so maybe not almost, but still.

Selina was satisfied with that answer, satisfied she got some information out of Helena.

“So is that what I’m supposed to call you? Stray?” For the first time in their conversation, Selina dropped the smirk and seemed genuine, showing some respect for the little thief.

“If you would be so kind.” Helena responded, trying to muster up some of her mothers charisma in her smile.

The sound of glass breaking echoed into the hall they were standing in, followed by the voice of Robin chastising Batman.

Uh-oh.

Helena was not prepared to be seeing both of her parents that night. Nor was she prepared to be captured by one of them.

“Aaand that’s my cue. Sorry, gotta blast. As ‘mistah J’ likes to say, the Bat spoils all the fun!” Helena adopted Harley’s thick Brooklyn accent as she mocked the nickname. “But I’ll get back to you on that armor thing. In exchange–” Helena slipped the diamond out of its pocket and tossed it to Catwoman. “Thanks!”

Really, it was more of a survival tactic than a show of good faith, Batman was far less likely to follow Helena if she didn’t keep the jewel. She grappled up to a nearby vent and made her escape, she’d be back out on the street in less than a minute, and soon after that, she’d be far, far away from the scene. If Catwoman chose to inform Batman of Helena’s presence, she’d be long gone by the time she got done explaining. Though Helena thought she probably wouldn’t, she’d be too busy flirting.

Helena was happy, meeting her mother had gone about as well as she could have hoped for. Maybe Catwoman would be willing to take Stray under her wing, show her the ropes. It was the closest thing to a mother-daughter relationship Helena thought she could hope for. Fantasies of them working together on heists filled her mind as she made her way back to the abandoned theater she lived in with Christina.

Christina had proved herself as a valuable asset in more ways than one. She found the abandoned theater and suggested they live in it back when they first escaped from Healing Trails. Helena thought it was creepy, but seeing as they didn’t have any other prospects, she agreed. Christina loved it, and that’s what mattered. Plus it had the sewing machine she ended up using for Helena’s suit, so it was a win-win. Helena thanked God for the younger girls theater background. That and her unrelenting nosiness that helped greatly in digging up information on Helena’s parents.

When Helena got back to the theater, she found Christina in the green room asleep on the mattress Helena had bought with the spoils from her last break-in. After changing out of the suit and into pajamas, she tried to slip in beside her without waking her, but Christina always woke up. She still had nightmares about the academy almost every night, and she would wake up at the drop of a feather.

“How did it go?” A small, groggy voice asked.

“Good, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Go back to sleep. I’m tired.” Helena yawned as she settled in next to her pseudo-sister.

“Can I see it?” Christina shimmied around so that she was facing Helena, the light coming in from the one tiny window in the room shined on her face, showing her little blue eyes and her freckles.

“I didn’t get the diamond.”

“I thought you said it went good.” Christina pouted slightly and Helena pushed a blonde hair out of her face.

“I met my mom.” She replied simply.

Christina lit up. “Really? Did she like you?”

“I think so, but that’s only because she doesn’t know who I am. Or maybe she just thought it was funny.” That time, it was Helena’s turn to pout.

“I don’t think that’s true, you know. There’s lots of reasons people give babies up for adoption. And if she’s really Catwoman, then maybe she gave you up to keep you safe.”

Helena wanted to believe Christina, she really did. But she was too young, her explanation sounding too… hopeful.

“Stellar job, that did.” She snorted. “If that's true, then all the more reason not to tell her who I am. If she gave me up to keep me safe, then she probably wouldn’t like what I’m doing right now very much.”

“You don’t even want to give her a chance? Maybe she misses you just as much as you miss her. Maybe she already knows who you are and that’s why she liked you!” Christina’s voice was practically pleading by that point. Helena understood, she was probably hoping that they’d both be taken in by Catwoman and be a proper family, complete with an actual parent.

“Maybe.” Helena conceded. “But I want to try to get to know her first. That way, if she doesn’t want me, then at least I got to spend time with her for a little while, yanno?”

“Yeah, I get it. But you really should try. You gotta give people a chance sometimes.” Christina yawned and turned back over onto her stomach. “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Sweet dreams.”

…

I hope you liked it ☺️ — I’ve been storyboarding for almost a year at this point (my timeline is air tight goddammit.) Also I did not come up with stray but I can’t find the OG post I saw about it!! If someone knows who originally came up with that idea please let me know so I can give creds!

[rubyboobidoo]

mine | dark!sofia gigante x reader

sofia cant bear to live without you so when you threaten to leave her, she takes matters into her own hands

A/N: hi!! this is my first ever post eek - i got tired of refreshing the sofia x reader tag only to see like 4 posts 😔 if you have any requests or constructive criticism please lmk! (if you saw me post this days ago then delete it no you didn’t)

warnings: new writer, fem!reader, kidnapping, restraints, kissing, alcohol, pet names, suggestive material (17+)

the pulse of your own heart draws you from your sleep, your tired eyes met with the familiar sight of the dimly lit sitting room of the falcone mansion. you make a fruitless attempt to hoist yourself from whatever seat your on, only to be stopped by the restraints binding you hands at your back and ankles to the chair.

you can feel the warmth of the fire place just behind you, its flickering light casting shadows across the room, when a figure dressed entirely in black approached from your left. even in the darkest of rooms, you could recognise sofia.

she pulls up a chair in front of yours, elegantly crossing her legs as she sits.

tracing your jawline with her nail, "don't you remember?” she cocks her head “last night when you threatened to leave me... i couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

your mind can’t help but wander to the night in mention.

“sofia,” your lips tremble in the search for the right words “i can’t do this anymore. i can’t act like i don’t see the things you’re doing and i can’t act like they don’t bother me” with the little strength you have you turn in the direction of the door when sofia stops you, grabbing at your upper arm. you can feel her nails digging into your flesh as her gaze locks onto yours “y/n, you know i did this for us baby. i need you to understand that.”

the memories from that night seem hazy, slipping through your fingers.

she leans in close, her hot breath breaking you from your trance “so i decided we needed so alone time, just you and me.” you look up at her, tears welling in your eyes, the reality of your situation crashing down on you.

sofia straightens up, smoothing down her black silk nightgown. “oh don’t look at me like that, y/n. everything’s taken care of. now we can focus solely on us."

she smiles, but there's a coldness in her eyes "isn't that what you wanted, y/n? for me to show you how much you mean to me?”

“then why did you do those things sofia?” you practically spat.

“well we can’t have our perfect little life with monsters like my family in the way, can we?” she stands, sauntering to the fireplace and pouring herself a glass of wine from a bottle on the mantle.

“but they were your family-

“no. you are my family.” she turns to face you, eyes glinting dangerously in the firelight. "they were evil, just like my father. They deserved what they got." she takes a sip of her wine, tilting her head. "just like you deserve to be here with me, where you belong."

she sets her glass down, walking towards you with predatory grace and takes your jaw in her warm hand. it’s so strange how easily you can fall back into old habits, melting to putty in her palm.

“will you forgive me, princess?” before you can process a response you find yourself looking up at her through doe eyes, eagerly nodding.

she leans in, brushing her lips against yours in a tender kiss. suddenly, you’re overcome with need as the kiss becomes desperate. sofia’s lips move hungrily against yours. “please untie me sof, ‘wanna touch you” you plead.

she pulls away, seemingly satisfied with how easy you submit to her. she reaches behind you, unbinding you wrists before before working her way down the restraints at your ankles. as you wrap your arms around her neck, she guides you to your feet in a swift motion.

“i’m gonna take such good care of you, tesoro” she purrs, pulling you close against her “all you have to do is be mine.”

[pomegranatecrab]

Rhodey/Tony/Steve, anyone?

Steve buys an apartment with his back pay.

It’s small, but it has two bedrooms. He converts one into a studio, and he should be comforted by the peeling paint and faded colour, covered in thousands of little fallacies, so very akin to the room he shared with his mother, where he would count each mark and stain while he was in bed, struggling to breath. Instead, the memories that the walls incite are sour.

There’s nothing stopping him from moving the minimal furniture out into the hallway, and sanding back the walls by hand. The man at the store had suggested an electric one, a round device that he had politely turned down. When he strips down the walls, Steve is still at a loss. No colour feels right for the room. There’s two windows where Steve is considering putting a house plant between, yet, no inspiration strikes. A spattering of dust floats in the air, a thick smell permeating the room. Steve opens a window, and frowns when someone knocks on the door.

He’s never met the man on the other side before. Tall, dark skin and carrying himself strongly. A wry smile paints his lips.

“Steve Rogers?” He offers a hand, the other hooked in the tag of a six pack of beers. “I’m James Rhodes. Tony’s talked a lot about you.”

Steve blinks.

“Tony Stark?”

James nods, peering shamelessly past Steve and into the living room. “Still moving in?”

Steve steps aside, nodding stiffly. The beers are from a brand he doesn’t recognise, and James is dressed casually, but his rigid posture gives him away.

“Army?”

“Airforce,” James says, peeling off his shoes and leaving them neatly by the door. “No work talk, I’m off duty.” He eyes the lack of TV critically.

“Do you have any board games?”

Steve would have felt like a killjoy, if not for the gleam in James’ eye, casual and easy-going. Like a wave could crash in and he’d simply ride it to shore.

“I have a pair of dice,” Steve says.

It’s one of the only things, along with his shield, that they let him take from his own belongings. A nice wooden pair that Bucky had carved for him, right down to the uneven dots adorning each side.

“Perfect,” James says.

He steps into the connecting kitchen, running an admiring hand over the arched doorway, a coil of rich timber that reminds Steve of the sprawling houses that he’d seen in movies at the theatre.

“Have you considered removing this cupboard? It’d make good space for a breakfast nook.” He peers around the back of it, considering. “Built in, but it wouldn’t take too much rewiring. Tony and I can help you out.”

“I’ll think about it,” Steve replies, eyeing the unit critically. It would be nice to have the place feel less crowded, unique, even. It’s probably the last thing he needs, but a construction project might keep his mind occupied, at least. There were only so many times that he could think about drawing instead of picking up a pencil, and only so many laps he could take around the park.

James nods, and swipes a cup from the dish rack, rinsing it once beneath the tap before placing it in the middle of the counter. Steve watches as he takes a beer, expertly popping it open with a spoon.

“How’d you do that?”

“My sister taught me,” James says, sliding a beer over to Steve, “it’s simple physics. You just hold your hand slightly over the cap, and voilà.”

Steve tips his head, impressed.

“Now, you roll the dice,” James demonstrates, “and whatever number I get, in this case six, I have to get this cap in the glass six times in a row. If I don’t, I drink. If I do, you drink.”

“You know I can’t get drunk, right?” Steve asks.

He’s also certain he won’t miss, no matter how high he rolls.

“Yeah, but it’s friday and I can,” James replies, almost cheekily, though his face is deceptively grave.

“You can laugh,” James says after a beat, composure finally cracking.

“At funny things,” Steve retorts, relaxing, the tension held in his shoulders eased by the friendliness, the firm hold of comradely, on offer to him.

“Call me Jim, or Rhodey.”

They spend a good couple of hours playing, until Steve swallows the last of his beer, and Rhodey checks his watch.

Steve’s heart sinks. His day no longer felt droll and empty with Rhodey’s visit. It had been nice, at least, while it lasted.

“What’s your phone number?” Rhodey asks, pulling out a sleek little rectangle with a smooth surface. It alights at his touch, and Steve spots a vaguely familiar face, belatedly realising that it was Tony Stark, beaming up at the ceiling.

“I don’t have a phone.”

He had been given one when he woke up, but left it on a park bench when it hadn’t stopped incessantly ringing.

And he had no idea what a data plan was, or why he was supposed to get one.

Rhodey smiles.

“I’m sure Tony will help you out there. Here’s my address. You should stop by on Sunday. We’re having a barbecue.”

He’s out the door with another kind smile and firm handshake, leaving the faint smell of expensive cologne behind him.

—-

By the time Sunday rolls around, he still hasn’t decided on a colour for his studio, or if he really does want a breakfast nook in his kitchen.

What he has decided, after a great deal of going back and forth with himself, is that he will attend the barbecue that Rhodey invited him to. Steve refuses to think about Bucky, or his mother; dead for decades while he experiences the future. He doesn’t think of quiet dinners with his mother, or sitting in dense forests with Bucky, his small fingers expertly carving the skin from a rabbit, roasting it over the fire, a fond suspire caught in Steve’s throat as Bucky complained about boredom, wishing for Nazi’s to gut or superior officers to prank. Mostly, he remembers the smell of bodies. The nauseating amount of blood had been like drowning in a sea of pennies, a thick, overwhelming metallic smell, a horrible collision with urine and excrement.

He thinks of Bucky, who didn’t even make it to sixteen.

He pulls on his shoes, and thinks of how he had to warn Bucky about keeping his feet as dry as possible in his boots, to never assume that it was mud, or something wet in his socks. He had heard too many stories from the first war about flesh peeling off, rotting and grotesque.

Steve ignores the military uniform hanging neatly in his closet and opts for jeans and a white t-shirt, pulls the punnet of strawberries from the fridge that he was sure were going to be laughed at, before beginning the long walk to Rhodey’s residence.

Rhodey lives in an incredibly beautiful two-story house, with a sprawling property that Steve figured would cost more than he would ever see in his lifetime. There’s a small porch at the front, adorned with plants hanging from the ceiling, a mat at the door and a small, ornate table with a package of bird feed on it.

He knocks on the door, and is surprised when it’s opened almost instantly.

Rhodey grins at him, wiping his hands on a yellow apron.

“Steve! Glad you could make it. Are those for the barbecue? Perfect, they’ll go perfectly with the charcuterie board.”

Relieved, Steve hands off the strawberries, peeling off his shoes and placing them in the neat little shelf by the door, already filled with a variety of joggers, leather shoes and a strange pair with holes throughout them.

The air smells like steak, sausages and something spicy.

Rhodey leads him briskly through a wide hallway with gleaming wooden floors into a large kitchen, where Tony Stark stands, arms akimbo.

“I thought flambéing would be easier than it looked,” Tony says, with a winning smile.

It’s not the wet, dormant smile of a greedy businessman; his blue eyes are warm, and he’s rolled his sleeves to his elbows, a faint flush working his way up to his neck. He looks very normal.

“Just do us all a favour and stick to chopping, a severed finger would be better than cleaning the gunk in that pan,” Rhodey replies.

Tony shrugs, and turns to face Steve properly.

“Hi, Steve. Nice to properly meet you,” Tony says, offering a hand.

His palm is calloused and warm, with long, bony fingers that his mother would say are perfect for the piano.

“I hear you’re in the midst of a construction project.” Tony opens the punnet of strawberries, and opens a cupboard beneath the bench, pulling out a beautiful wooden board, covered in rich oils that paint the surface into a bubbling ocean. Rhodey passes him a package of brie and a small knife, which all get neatly organised on the board.

“Maybe,” Steve says, scratching at the back of his neck.

There’s a cool breeze trailing in from the deck, the huge doors thrown open, curtains flapping gently.

A British voice, possibly belonging to the pale set of legs lounging half out of sight on a chaise longue, rings out.

“Master Anthony! I’m sure somewhere along the way I drilled some manners into that head of yours.”

“Are you sure?” Tony says, whisking the small platter out the door. “I don’t recall.”

Steve follows, assured by Rhodey’s benign smile as he inches around the barbeque. Rhodey lifts the lid, smoke escaping the confines and filling the air, and pokes at the sausages sizzling away alongside a row of vegetables.

“I enjoy my days off, but I don’t enjoy watching your abysmal attempt at cooking,” the older gentleman says, arranging his feet on a small table.

“Jarvis,” Rhodey replies, “stop flirting.”

Jarvis sniffs.

“Anthony, I wasn’t joking about your manners.”

Tony claps a hand over his shoulder, grinning. “Jarvis, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jarvis. He’s known me since I was in diapers.”

“You were just as stubborn about those as you are about bread,” Jarvis demurred.

“I’m not a snob for not eating white bread,” Tony defends immediately, handing a cracker piled with olives, tomatoes and cheese over to Steve.

The cheese had an interesting layer of crust, a creamy, white texture underneath.

“Are too,” Rhodey says, “you couldn’t see the looks of disgust sent my way when I dared to grill cheese on white bread.”

“There’s a perfect way to make grilled cheese, Rhodey,” Tony says, “it’s a sacred art.”

Steve’s lips twitch, and Tony grins widely at him, nodding towards the cracker.

“That’s brie. It’s okay if you don’t like it, it can be a bit rich.”

He eats it in one bite, the rich flavours exploding across his tongue immediately. Steve had been used to stale, thin waifs for crackers, and in the army, hardtack, eaten in the dark to remain ignorant about the presence of weevils. These crackers were crumbly, with hints of thyme and garlic, and complimented the tangy tomato and olives, the interesting taste of the brie eluding his palate until the last minute.

“I don’t mind it,” Steve says.

“Have you had a chance to try any other new food, Steve?” Rhodey asks, smiling charmingly, one hand pressing warmly against the small of Tony’s back as he shuffles past, offering another loaded cracker to Jarvis, before holding the other to Rhodey’s lips.

“Not really.” Steve scratches his head, darting his eyes between the three of them, no judgement in their eyes, merely curiosity. “I don’t really know where to start.”

Tony clicks his fingers. “We can remedy that, Steve. Can’t have you going to any old Cantonese restaurant. I know a place. Tiny, no signage, just a window filled with roasted duck. Best you’ll get in the city.”

Rhodey wipes his hands on his apron, a dab of oil on his lip from the olives, wiped daintily off by Tony’s gentle finger. He sucks the remnants off, and turns to gaze at Steve inquiringly.

“It’s a date, right?”

Rhodey nods, before Steve can even open his mouth.

“We’ll pick you up Wednesday night. That work for you?”

Steve, who so far had a grand total of zero friends in the future, nods reluctantly. It sounded better than sitting alone, firmly telling himself he doesn’t need company, or someone to write letters to, or listen to music with, or go to a baseball game with.

“I’ll be there,” Steve says, forcing what he hopes is a personable smile on his face.

Tony and Rhodey angle identical grins at him, exchanging a silent, pleased glance.

Steve blames the blazing sun for the prick of heat that spreads rapidly down his neck.

[cosmererambles]

So...People have been asking for my Kelsier Essay.

I'll publish it in several posts that are qued apart.

Kelsier Essay

This is not a formal, academic essay. It’s a loose one but I feel it drives home the point well enough and brings forth good evidence.

 I hope the dear reader will forgive my use of a proper noun as I write this essay; it removes somewhat of a formal aspect from its words but I must admit, it does come from a personal place of my heart. While this essay is meant to be persuasive, it’s also meant to be constructive and to drive a point home that I have been musing on for quite a while. This essay has major spoilers for the entirety of the Cosmere. If you haven’t read all of Mistborn, SH, and all of SL, please refrain from reading this.

In the endless expanses of the Cosmere, there are hundreds of characters whom many hold dear and just as many whom people hate. You could say this is due to the brilliance of the author, who, despite his busy schedules and near constant time spent behind a keyboard, finds time to sign sheets and answer questions. Why is signing sheets and answering questions relevant to beloved and reviled characters? Read on.

Brandon Sanderson answers hundreds of questions, many of which are inane, innocuous, or silly. Some are deeper, others delve into the basis behind some of his choices while writing. Still others pertain to characters. We get to the meat of it. This particular character is known, through the writing, as a brutal man, who let nothing stand in the way of his goal, who, while cleaving the noble class of his society in twain, uplifted the peasants and upended the thousand-year reign of his deity and ruler. Yes, we’re talking of Kelsier, the Survivor of Hathsin, hero of the Final Empire, and a character that leaves many people puzzled.

Reddit forums are frequented by questions about him. r/Mistborn and r/Cosmere alike have had their fair share of debates, and there was one thing I noticed in many of these: they take the words of Sanderson very, very seriously. Why shouldn’t they? He’s the author, is he not? Back in 2013, Sanderson had a Q&A session where someone asked him who his most disturbing character was. The WoB is as follows:

I_are_pant

1.Which of your protagonist characters do you dislike the most as a person? Taking in account that you know all of their inner secrets and motivations. 2. On the flip side, which of your antagonists do you connect with the most? The Lord Ruler seems an obvious choice as he was misunderstood by everyone for so long. But still, I’m curious.

Brandon Sanderson  This is a tough one, as while I’m writing, I HAVE to like everyone. However, the most disturbing of them is probably Kelsier. He’s a psychopath—meaning the actual, technical term. Lack of empathy, egotism, lack of fear. If his life had gone differently, he could have been a very, very evil dude.

 This Word of Brandon has had a decided effect on the fandom, namely in the fact that critical thought surrounding Kelsier, his motives, his struggles, and his successes, has all but been erased. He has been branded a psychopath, and there is nothing anyone can say against it.

The word “psychopath” is a very negatively charged word. To preface things, I want to be clear that this essay is going to refer to “psychopathy” as Antisocial-Personality Disorder. The term psychopath is very old, and largely refers to individuals with this particular disorder. The traditional definition of psychopath is someone who both lacks a conscience and lacks empathy.

Through this essay, I plan to painstakingly showcase that Kelsier fits neither the outdated term nor the criteria for the actual disorder, through canon book citations. I will break down each diagnostic criteria for Antisocial Personality Disorder (Henceforth shortened to ASPD) and Kelsier’s character traits at large. I wish to not only prove Brandon wrong (It is a very old WoB and I doubt very much he still believes this.) but to prove to the fandom at large that Kelsier is a good man. A flawed man, but a good man. I will also note specific character traits that I feel are of note in discussing him, his motives, and his current ideologies.

(Please note that there are plenty of individuals with ASPD that are not bad people. Your actions make you bad, not your mental health. I will be using terms such as “bad” and “wrong”, but this is in regards to a fictional character, NOT a real life human being.)

Antisocial Personality Disorder is a disorder characterized by the DSM-V as a Cluster-B personality disorder. It shares its family with Narcissistic, Borderline, and Histrionic disorders, and is characterized by a “continuing disregard and violation of the rights of others, occurring since the age of fifteen. To be diagnosed with ASPD, you must show a pattern of three or more of the following characteristics:

·         Failure to Conform with Laws and Social Norms

·         Deceitfulness (Repeated lying or conning of others for personal profit or pleasure.

·         Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead.

·         Irritability or Aggressiveness (Repeated physical fights or assaults.)

·         Reckless disregard for the safety of others.

·         Consistent irresponsibility. (Failure to keep a job or honor financial obligations.)

·         Lack of remorse.

Psychopathy is a term that was coined before this disorder was identified and refers specifically to a person lacking in both empathy and a conscience. The term is still widely used today, along with the term Sociopath, often interchangeably. For this essay, I’ll be largely relying on the psychiatric standards set in the DSM-V.

[doublel27]

Respectfully, because I feel the criticism of wealth is important: Home did do that. Multiple times.

One of the key parts of healing most of the ghost’s wounds was uncovering how they died and healing their hurts. Giving respect to the construction worker who died. Finding out the truth about the wig and punishing the manager. Fulfilling the rider’s last delivery to the woman he loved. And with each round, Home’s demeanor became more respectful and less callous. The contrast of the very fake mediums for the construction worker to Home and Peach sitting very quietly as they deliver the crispy pork house from the rider to make sure his message of love and community was received.

But they didn’t stop just with the dead.

They didn’t sell the magician’s house. They made sure he was able to stay in his home where he was happy with his daughter, regardless of him not having the money. Home and Kan put that house into a trust for him, so he never had to leave.

Home saved Chef’s restaurant for Peach to eventually take over because that’s what Chef would have wanted and is likely to have been her plan had things not gone the way they did. Part of what Home owed to Peach is the three years of misunderstanding and missed opportunities that largely stem from the hit and run. He makes up for this through the uncovering of the truth of Chef’s death, the chef’s table and eventually opening their own restaurant. It’s also why he encouraged Peach to go to Chaing Mai even if he didn’t want him to go.

When confronted with the development, Jan’s betrayal, and the broken promises to Kan’s community, Home spent the entire back 1/3 of the story trying to fix that and nearly got murdered by his family twice for it. They hunted down the contract that proved his family had fucked over the community, twice, as well as uncovered his aunt’s crimes, Uncle Somkid’s crimes and Lawyer Yai’s crimes. And in the end they did change the tenancy laws of the development to get the community back in there. They had an entire montage of it.

Ultimately, the curse was their greed and their isolationist ways. Every member of that family, including Home at the beginning, was more focused on themselves than being in actual community with each other. His aunt was full of greed, even killing her maid and binding her in chains, evoking literal slave imagery, to fulfill her aims. She stole and bribed “for the family” but it was really for her own pockets. Uncle Somkid was so focused on the money he couldn’t see what his father was actually saying or see any of the love and joy his father found in him. I think it’s very telling the only child we see Gramps gift things to without being given something first is Somkid. And he gifts something Somkid values, a place to save money. Gramps isn’t innocent here. He was so focused with the ways he felt it important to connect and how he found joy in his relationship with Somkid, that he missed that Somkid wasn’t getting any of his messages of love. Ultimately the family was so isolated and self-centered they didn’t actually see each other. They were not in community and actively worked against community, including the one Home built with his friends. They undervalued it so much, Somkid and Yai underestimate our ghost hunting crew.

Home’s journey was to learn something the wealthy often ignore: the value and purpose of being in community with others. It’s in building his relationships with Peach, Pangpang and Kan that he learns to give without taking. He risks his life in order to bring justice in the face of his family’s crimes. He takes the deserved vitriol of Kan’s community without any complaint or argument and promises them to repair the harm, and does in the end. When the family points out this will be their undoing, Home welcomes the change. He doesn’t stop Peach from moving to Chaing Mai even if he wants to, because Peach’s dreams are more important to him. It is no surprise that the people they helped in earlier episodes were brought back to support taking down Uncle Somkid and on the board in their new restaurant. They participate in community.

It may not have been in all the ways that people wanted or not centered in the way that people might have liked. And I think that’s fair. We don’t explicitly know what he does with the money, aside from a few anecdotes as well as starting a business with Peach to help people find peace in their grief. The questions about is it enough or is there more he could have done are also important.

I also think it’s necessary to examine why there are so many stories that center the wealthy and their journey, because Home uncovering the meaning of his name made him the main character who had the most to learn and grow from (peach’s journey was mostly resolved in the first half). And I think objecting to that is fair, but that’s also how the story is written. And if you don’t like the story centering a wealthy character who needs to learn how to be in community with others, you shouldn’t watch.

I feel like Jack and Joker is doing a really interesting job of telling a very different side of this story right now that has wealthy characters learning to be in community but also centers the struggles of poor people who are being exploited.

But to say Home did not work to repair the wounds his family made through greed, or give back financially I feel is not textually accurate.

Why is the curse on the rich people never that they made shitty choices and chose to hurt people with their money and use of resources and always that they hate each other too much and don't give enough money to other rich people?

I mean, I suppose the curse is that frankly the grandfather sucked at being a parent and making his child feel loved but that's a shitty curse and it's not even the real curse. Sigh.

The real curse is that these shows are so determined to make the rich boys pitiful that they forget to do the part of the story where they give back to the places they hurt or help the people their money keeps hurting because if they admit the money is what's hurting people then you have to face what that means for the wealthy as well as the poor.

[gayferrari]

this is Pierre/Esteban