#No one told me discussing these kind of things with someone different as me could be so cool
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mintyys-blog · 2 days ago
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VIRGINITY— biker! bucky barnes
WARNING: insecurities, alcohol, drinking, SMUT, loss of virginity.
MINORS DNI
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You sat at the corner of the bar, swirling your drink absently, trying to ignore the buzz of conversations around you. Your friends were deep in yet another discussion about their sexual escapades, laughter and teasing filling the air. You faked a smile, nodding along, but inside, you were crumbling.
You had never been in a serious relationship, never been with someone you trusted enough to cross that line. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but you had never felt ready, and now—well, now you were stuck. The jokes, the playful teasing, the way your friends acted as though it was something everyone should have already done by your age—it made you feel small. Embarrassed.
You had never told anyone the truth: you were an adult virgin. It felt ridiculous, given your age. And every time you tried to navigate the topic, you felt a burning shame creep up your chest. You weren’t even sure why it bothered you so much—it wasn’t that sex was all that important, but it felt like you had missed some unspoken milestone.
You took another sip of your drink, eyes flickering across the bar. Your gaze landed on him. Bucky Barnes. The biker. The man everyone talked about. Dangerous. Captivating. He had a way about him that made the air around him feel charged, like you were stepping into a thunderstorm whenever he walked into a room.
You had never spoken to him before, but something about tonight made you feel… brave. Your heart pounded in your chest as you debated, the idea pushing against the walls of your mind. Could you really do it?
With a deep breath, you stood up, your legs feeling a little unsteady as you walked across the room toward him. He was sitting at the far corner, his leather jacket glinting under the dim lights, eyes scanning the room. When he looked up and saw you approaching, there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
“Well, look what we have here,” Bucky said, his deep voice smooth, like velvet wrapped around steel. He studied you for a moment, then smirked, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Didn’t expect you to come over, sweetheart.”
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling much smaller in front of him. “I need your help,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, but steady.
He leaned back in his seat, studying you with a raised eyebrow. “Help? With what?”
The words rushed out before you could second-guess them. “I want you to take my virginity.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in judgment, but in curiosity. There was a heavy pause, the noise of the bar fading into the background.
“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice low.
You swallowed hard, then nodded, trying to maintain eye contact despite the embarrassment rising in your chest. “Yes. I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t bother me. I just… I need it to be done. To move on.”
He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto yours, the amusement in his expression fading. There was something different there now, something more thoughtful, as if he was weighing your words carefully. “You know it’s not as simple as just… doing it. You can’t just erase that kind of thing with one night. It’s not a transaction.”
You felt a pang of guilt, but your resolve held strong. “I’m not looking for anything more than that. I just want to get rid of the shame. I want to stop feeling like a freak.”
There was another long pause. Bucky studied you intently, and for a moment, you thought he might turn you away, that he would scoff and walk off. But instead, he let out a low breath and leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Why me?” he asked quietly. “You don’t even know me.”
You shrugged, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I don’t know, but you’re the only one I can think of who could actually do it. I know you’re… experienced. You’re not looking for anything more. And I don’t want it to be some awkward, emotional thing with someone I’m close to.”
Bucky’s lips twitched upward at the edges, but there was still something unreadable in his eyes. “You really think I’m the right person for this?”
You nodded. “I do. I don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be.”
He was quiet for a moment, looking at you as though he was seeing you for the first time. Then, his voice dropped, low and almost teasing. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”
You didn’t know how to respond. The tension between you both was thick, and for a split second, you thought maybe you had made a mistake, maybe you had pushed it too far. But then he said, “Alright. But this doesn’t happen the way you’re thinking. I’m not just going to rush in and get it over with. You’re asking me for something important, whether you realize it or not. We do it slow, on my terms. You understand?”
You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. “Yeah. I understand.”
Bucky gave you a long, measured look, then stood up, motioning for you to follow him. “Come with me. But if we’re doing this, I need you to know that there’s no turning back once you step into my world. And I’m not talking about just the physical side. You got it?”
You nodded, your heart racing as you followed him outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. There was a motorcycle waiting for you—his bike—and as he started it up, the rumble of the engine filled the air.
Bucky didn’t say much during the ride, but the tension was palpable. The promise of what was to come felt heavy between you, but you also felt a strange sense of calm. It wasn’t just about the sex—it was about taking control of something that had always felt out of reach.
And maybe, just maybe, it was about learning who you were in the process.
When you reached his place, a quiet, almost eerie feeling settled over you. The place was secluded, the kind of place people didn’t just stumble into. You weren’t sure what to expect, but you knew one thing for sure—it was going to be a night unlike any other.
As he led you inside, he gave you a look, almost soft now, and the edge of his smirk faded for a moment. “You sure about this?”
This time, you didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
And as the door closed behind you, you knew things were about to change forever.
Bucky led you through the dimly lit hallway, the soft click of his boots on the wooden floor echoing in the quiet. His place was sparse but cozy—leather furniture, soft lighting, and the faint scent of motor oil and wood. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, a promise of what was to come, and your heart pounded harder with every step.
He turned to face you, his eyes piercing, the intensity of his gaze making you feel both nervous and oddly safe. There was something commanding in the way he moved, like everything in his world had its place and purpose. You were about to become a part of that world, at least for tonight.
“You still sure about this?” he asked again, his voice low but steady. There was a softness there now, a care that you hadn’t expected.
You nodded, your throat dry. “Yes.”
For a moment, neither of you moved, and the silence stretched between you like a taut wire. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible shift, Bucky reached for you. He didn’t rush; his hands were gentle as he cupped your face, thumb grazing over your cheek. His touch was soft, but it held a weight, as though he was giving you space to back out if you wanted to.
But you didn’t want to. Not anymore.
His lips brushed yours once, a tender, fleeting touch that left a spark of warmth behind. “We’re doing this slow, remember,” he murmured against your mouth. “No rush.”
You barely had time to respond before his lips found yours again, this time with more pressure, more intention. His kiss was slow and deliberate, like he was testing the waters, gauging how far you were willing to go. You felt the heat build between you, a pull you couldn’t ignore. His hands slid to your shoulders, guiding you backward toward the couch. He kept the kiss slow, letting you set the pace, his tongue sweeping gently against yours as if coaxing you into the moment.
You let yourself relax into the kiss, allowing yourself to be swept up in it, the world outside fading into nothing. When his hands moved down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him explore, your breath hitching as his touch grew more confident. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this—this slow, tender approach that felt both overwhelming and comforting at the same time.
When he broke the kiss, his eyes met yours, dark with intensity but also something softer, more thoughtful. “You’re doing good,” he said quietly, a half-smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You sure you’re not regretting it yet?”
You shook your head, unable to find words, but the look in your eyes answered him. Bucky seemed to understand, the corner of his lips curling up in approval.
He moved to stand, giving you a moment to catch your breath. His eyes scanned your face, then flicked to the rest of your body. He didn’t say anything, just moved with purpose, pulling off his jacket and tossing it aside. The muscles in his arms flexed as he reached for the buttons of his shirt, and for a moment, you couldn’t tear your gaze away. He was everything you had imagined—and more.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured as he pulled his shirt off, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “I’m not going to force you to do anything.”
You nodded, your chest tight. It wasn’t that you were scared of him—quite the opposite. It was more that you weren’t used to feeling this exposed, this vulnerable. But you also knew you wanted to move forward, to feel something real, to finally shed the skin of your past insecurities.
When he returned to you, his hands traced the lines of your shirt, his fingers brushing the fabric as he slowly pulled it over your head. His eyes never left yours, as though he was waiting for any sign that you wanted to stop. But you didn’t. You wanted this. Wanted him to show you what it felt like to be with someone who didn’t judge, who didn’t rush, who was patient with your fears.
His hands moved to your back, unclipping your bra with practiced ease. You tensed for a moment, but when his warm palms touched your skin, you melted into him. Bucky kissed the side of your neck, his lips warm against your skin, his breath hot as he whispered, “You’re doing amazing. Just breathe.”
He guided you to sit on the edge of the couch, his fingers brushing through your hair as he gently pulled you toward him. “You trust me?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours.
“Yeah,” you whispered, voice barely audible.
He smiled at that, the first truly soft smile you’d seen from him. It was a rare thing, but it made your heart skip a beat.
His hands were slow and deliberate, moving with care as he undid your jeans, pulling them down your legs. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He didn’t rush, didn’t make you feel like you were just another conquest. He was patient with you, letting you feel every touch, every caress as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
When he stood up, you followed his lead, and for a long, quiet moment, the two of you simply stood there, eyes locked in a silent understanding. Then, slowly, Bucky reached for the waistband of his jeans, pulling them down with deliberate slowness, as though he was making sure you were ready, that you weren’t overwhelmed.
When he was finally fully undressed, he stood before you, the air heavy with anticipation, but still so much gentleness between you both. “Are you ready?” he asked softly, his voice a low rasp that sent a thrill through your body.
You nodded, the nervousness bubbling inside you but being overshadowed by a quiet excitement. It wasn’t about the physicality anymore. It was about this moment, about trusting him, about taking this step for yourself.
“I’m ready,” you whispered back.
And with that, Bucky moved closer, his hands finding yours, guiding you through each step of the way, until the moment came that would change everything.
Bucky’s presence was a steady weight against you, his touch warm and calming as his hands brushed over your skin. The silence between you both was filled with anticipation, but it wasn’t suffocating. It was more like a quiet promise—an unspoken understanding that you were both in this together, that nothing would be rushed or forced.
He paused for a moment, just before the final step, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. His thumb brushed your cheek gently, the touch soft against the nerves that had started to surface again.
“You’re sure?” he asked again, his voice low but steady.
You nodded, your breath shallow. “I’m sure.”
Bucky seemed to absorb your words, and for a moment, the world outside of this small, intimate space disappeared. There was only the two of you, this moment, this step you were about to take together. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then moved slowly to kiss your lips again, a slow, comforting kiss that reminded you that this wasn’t about just the physical act. It was about the trust, the vulnerability, the space you were both sharing.
His hands moved slowly now, pulling you in closer, positioning you with a care that made your heart flutter. The way he touched you was deliberate, soft, as though every movement was designed to make you feel safe. Even now, at the brink of what you had been so afraid of, he was gentle, never once pushing you beyond what you could handle.
Bucky’s voice was a low murmur as he spoke. “We go slow. No need to rush, sweetheart.”
You nodded again, feeling the slight flutter of nerves in your stomach, but also a sense of calm. His steady presence, his confidence, made you feel like you could trust him completely. This wasn’t just about breaking down walls; it was about building something more—something that took time.
As you lay in bed, Bucky’s eyes locked onto yours, filled with a deep affection and desire. He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity, and he was determined to make it perfect for you.
“And you’re absolutely sure about this, doll?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. Bucky smiled softly and leaned in to kiss you. His lips were gentle, but full of passion, and you felt yourself melting into his touch.
As he kissed you, Bucky’s hands began to explore your body. He touched you softly, tracing the curves of your waist and hips. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers brushed against your skin.
Bucky pulled back from the kiss and looked at you with adoring eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I want to make this perfect for you.”
He began to undress you slowly, taking his time to savor every moment. As each piece of clothing came off, Bucky’s eyes lit up with excitement. He praised every inch of your body, telling you how beautiful and desirable you were.
When you were finally naked, Bucky took a step back to admire you. His eyes roamed over your body, drinking in the sight of your curves and soft skin. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as he gazed at you with such intensity.
But instead of making you feel self-conscious, Bucky’s gaze made you feel empowered. He made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
Bucky stepped closer to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the pillows. He followed after you, his body hovering above yours as he began to kiss your neck and shoulders.
As he kissed you, Bucky’s lips left gentle hickeys on your skin. You felt a surge of pleasure at the sensation and couldn’t help but moan softly.
Bucky smiled against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “I love hearing you make those noises,” he whispered.
He continued to kiss and nibble on your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys on your neck and shoulders. You felt like you were on fire, your body burning with desire.
Finally, Bucky pulled back and looked at you with burning eyes. “Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
You nodded, eagerly anticipating what was about to happen. Bucky smiled softly and positioned himself between your legs. He took his time, slowly entering you with gentleness and care.
As he moved inside you, Bucky made sure to go at a pace that was comfortable for both of you. He whispered praises in your ear, telling you how beautiful and strong you were.
The pain was minimal, but Bucky made sure to check in with you to make sure everything was okay. When you nodded that it was fine, he continued to move inside you with slow, sweet thrusts.
As you moved together, Bucky left more hickeys on your skin, making you shiver with pleasure. The combination of the gentle sex and the soft bites on your skin sent waves of ecstasy through your body.
With careful precision, Bucky guided you through the moments, letting you feel each step, each touch, without overwhelming you. His lips found the curve of your neck, his kisses gentle as his hands continued to explore. The air between you was charged, and yet the gentleness of his approach created a calm rhythm, a steady beat that you could follow.
Time seemed to slow, and with each passing second, the unease that had once gripped you slowly melted away, replaced by a quiet eagerness. You weren’t just giving away a piece of yourself; you were claiming it. Taking ownership of your desires, your vulnerability, and what it meant to truly feel something.
Bucky’s gaze met yours once more, his face a mask of focus, but his eyes softened with understanding. “You’re doing good. I’m not going anywhere.”
The words, simple as they were, sent a wave of warmth through you, and you finally allowed yourself to fully surrender to the moment. You trusted him—trusted that he wasn’t just doing this for his own pleasure, but because he understood the weight of what you were asking. And when the moment came, when you felt the delicate shift, the change, you didn’t flinch.
Instead, you breathed through it, feeling the newness, the unfamiliarity. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t painful either. The slow burn of the moment, the tenderness of it, created a sense of closeness that went beyond just physical connection. It was about trust. About respect. About knowing that this wasn’t just an experience—it was part of something bigger.
As the moments passed, Bucky’s movements were soft, rhythmic, giving you time to adjust, time to feel. He was patient, never rushing, his focus entirely on you. His hands moved over your body with reverence, as though each touch was a way of telling you that you were worth the time, that you were worth this.
The silence between you two was filled only with the sound of soft breaths, the occasional murmur of his voice, and the quiet beat of your heart. There was no pressure, no rush. Just the simple act of two people sharing a moment, exploring, learning, and connecting in a way you hadn’t thought possible.
It was everything you needed it to be. It wasn’t some grand, movie-like moment; it was real, raw, and intimate. It was exactly what you had hoped for when you first came to him, and it was more than you had ever expected.
After what felt like an eternity, Bucky came inside you, his body shuddering with pleasure. As you both caught your breath, you looked up at Bucky, your eyes filled with love and gratitude.
When it was over, and the tension slowly began to ease from your bodies, Bucky held you close, pulling you into his arms with a comforting gentleness. He didn’t say anything at first, simply held you, letting the quiet stretch between you two.
You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as your own gradually slowed. There was no awkwardness, no sense of rushing to get out of the moment. Just peace. A deep, calming peace.
Bucky’s voice, soft and reassuring, broke the silence. “You okay?”
You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
He kissed the top of your head, a gesture that held more meaning than you could put into words. “Good. You don’t have to be anything you’re not. You’re not a freak. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
The words settled deep inside you, soothing the last remnants of doubt and fear that had once held you captive. You had done it. Not just the act itself, but the bravery it took to ask for what you wanted, to step into the unknown and trust someone with your vulnerability.
The silence stretched between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a quiet sense of understanding, a peacefulness that had settled in the room, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you were carrying around the weight of your past insecurities.
Bucky didn’t rush to fill the silence with words. Instead, he just held you, the warmth of his body grounding you. You could feel his heart beating steadily beneath your ear, his presence steady and calming. You felt safe. Something you hadn’t realized you’d been craving for so long.
His hand gently traced circles on your back, the light touch a contrast to the intensity of the night. It was grounding, like a quiet reassurance that things had changed, that this moment was real, not just a fleeting memory.
You were still tangled up in his arms when you finally found the courage to speak again. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice a whisper, almost unsure if you were still in some kind of dream. “I didn’t know what to expect, but this… this was different.”
Bucky’s response came almost immediately, a soft chuckle vibrating through his chest. “Different, huh?” He leaned back slightly, just enough for you to see the faintest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “What were you expecting?”
You bit your lip, feeling a blush creep up your neck at the memory of your initial request. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “Something more… rushed, maybe. Less… gentle.”
He raised an eyebrow, the teasing smile still there, but his eyes were soft. “You think I’d rush something like that? Not my style, sweetheart. But I get it. You wanted to make it simple, get it over with. But it’s not that simple. Not with you. Not with something like this.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t just about the physical part. It was about the way he respected you, the way he seemed to see you—not just a woman to be used, but someone deserving of kindness and care. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation or to tick something off his list. He was doing it because, in some strange way, he wanted to.
“You’re not… like the others,” you murmured, feeling vulnerable again, but in a different way. A way that felt freeing.
Bucky’s expression softened, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “I try not to be,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’m not gonna lie to you—there’s no way to change the past. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna treat you like some number, some ‘thing to get over.’ You deserved more than that. And I could tell you needed it to be real, not just some story you’ve been told by people who don’t even get it.”
His words wrapped around you like a blanket, warm and comforting. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear them, how much you needed to feel like this moment was about more than just crossing an item off your internal checklist. It was about real connection. And as much as you’d convinced yourself you were doing this to shed the weight of your past, you had also given yourself the chance to experience what real intimacy could feel like.
“You’ve got this whole thing figured out, huh?” you asked softly, resting your head back on his chest, your fingers tracing random patterns on his skin.
“Not at all,” he admitted with a small laugh. “But I do know that when you take the time to listen, it’s a lot easier to get things right. You wanted this to be different—and it was.”
You smiled at his words, feeling a quiet sense of relief settle over you. You had spent so much of your life worrying about being “behind,” about not being where others seemed to be. But in that moment, in Bucky’s arms, you realized it didn’t matter. There was no race. No timeline you had to follow. You were on your own path, and for once, it felt okay to simply be where you were.
“How do you always know what to say?” you asked, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
Bucky’s smile was warm, but there was a hint of something deeper behind his eyes. “I don’t. I just try to be real. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes, you’ve just gotta let people be who they are.”
You thought about that for a moment, then looked up at him. “That’s probably the best advice I’ve heard in a while.”
He shrugged, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ll figure it out. You’ve got more strength than you realize.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead, you just nodded, feeling a quiet sense of understanding between you two. The kind of understanding that didn’t require words, but only time spent together, the kind that built a bridge over the differences between you.
As the night wore on, Bucky stayed close, his presence grounding and steady. There was no rush to leave, no hurry to move on to the next thing. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could just… breathe.
You weren’t sure what the future held, but in this moment, with Bucky beside you, you felt a quiet peace that you hadn’t known you were missing. Whatever happened next, you knew this was a step forward. Not just in breaking down walls or getting rid of the shame you carried, but in understanding yourself a little bit more.
And for once, it felt like that was enough.
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halo-chainsaw · 27 days ago
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Shut up i'm talking patreon only 7$!!!!!
The patreon podcast is out, and I have just finished listening to it!
I decided to write down some notes for those who are interested but do not have the patreon. It's a long one, but I picked out what I thought would be important + silly moments here n there
Podcast is recorded the morning of Dream's video (I'm sorry but not to Tommyinnit)
Tommy called his mom about the situation first, discussing about how it was awful (pre reddit post)
Harry wrote the "you can call me anything but do not call me poor" LOL
Tommy didn't watch the dream stream but read a synopsis, and he said that was enough
He's spoken to Dream privately several times (starting 2023), all his friends told him that dream was taking advantage of him, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt
He has told dream to change how he acts, and dream has refused. Has had conversations like this multiple times.
Told dream in a conversation he was no longer speaking to him and was no longer talking to him after he talked to his mom. Was previously ignoring him but blocked him outright.
After his dream v quackity sketch dream sent him awful and mean messages.
Jack and Tommy are pissed off about people saying to "resolve it privately". They have tried multiple times to solve things privately, but Dream will take things public.
Jack had a 2 hour long call with dream on jack's DADS BIRTHDAY??? and it was about why he didn't like dream, and about dream's allegations.
the "Jack mentions Dream" account bothers Jack since its a bunch of indirect things, and him responding to messages rather than him just bringing Dream up.
Dream says Jack spreads rumors about him.
Jack does not think dream is a p*dophile, but he finds the situation(s) he was in wildly inappropriate.
Dream showed everyone his evidence against the grooming allegations in the DreamSMP discord. Jack said he told Dream it weirded him out, because either way, he was still messaging a fan, and it pissed Dream off.
Jack flat out calls Dream "stupid".
He's very pissed about the "unfaithful" rumor, and he's very vocal about it for a minute.
Jack reiterates the editor story with the 50 quid
They point out how the Dream ignores the George and Caiti situation, along with clipping Tubbo out of context.
"I can't believe he thought he could win by just lying. Especially when you've got a reputation of lying." -Jack (paraphrased/two different sentences put together)
Tommy says the video were for him, not everyone else. Makes a jab about Dream unable to use media literacy.
Tommy says Dream knows what he's talking about when he refers to misogyny. That there's so much more behind the scenes, that it's miserable.
Tommy says he doesn't want to do any of this anymore, that it's pointless. He says Youtube doesn't make him happy, that he doesn't fit in, and he wants to be done. He will still be posting to Youtube because he loves making videos, but he doesn't want to be part of the Youtube sphere/culture. He wants to be a proper comedian.
"I might as well go down sayin' what I fuckin' mean." -Tommy
brings up the "putting others down", Tommy reiterates how he's been very kind/warm to everyone, but if someone famous is being an asshole he's gonna make a joke about it. "That's what I've done with Logan, done to you, and what I'm going to continue to do."
Tommy calls him one of the most self indulgent and exhausting people he's ever met.
Brings up Dream calling him the internet police, he says that he's just sick of the bullshit. "When I see it, say it."
Tommy reiterates he can't do this much longer, that it's all pointless. Dream is just doing what he's been doing for years. He is not proud of dream and he doesn't respect him. Tells him straight to "Fuck off".
Tommy would talk to Jack, unsure if what was happening with Dream was odd/bad or not. He's a little relieved that it's in the public eye now.
Jack talks about how everyone on the server is talking against him, that no one is defending him. They've all known he's awful.
Tommy says he felt close to Dream, so he struggled with seeing the bad actions he had done. He felt skewed/manipulated.
Tommy tells a story about back when he was 14, he would annoy people in Hypixel by lobby spamming. One day he heads into a streamer's chat that he looked up to and said hello. the streamer, who was about 20 at the time, tore into him, calling him the R slur and many other horrible things. He said he felt heartbroken and shaken up. "Shit like this just happens along the way, and it's miserable, but like- for me, I just keep remindin' myself "this isn't the first time I've done this"."
Jack tried to make his disassociation as public as possible, he had told Dream to his face (during the allegations) in the DreamSMP discord that he did not want to be associated with him anymore.
Talks about how people still group DreamSMP members with Dream, and how they think every member is bad due to Dream's actions, and he's tired of it.
He doesn't like how public everything is, but he's glad people can finally see that they don't like Dream.
Tommy, from now on, is telling everyone how he feels. He's going to be blatant. (if that's what i understood from a comment he made)
Jack is still shocked that Dream chose that moment of all things to jump in. They have made comments here and there but Dream never said anything.
Jack talks about a part in his stream where he says something along the lines of "I'd understand this type of outburst if we had been bullying im for weeks and weeks. But we haven't been. Nor would that make it okay." And then someone on twitter said "Jack just admitted that they'd been bullying Dream non stop for weeks and he's proud of it!!!!" Jack says he can't believe people's ability to misinterpret.
Tommy saw Tubbo dissecting Dream's stream for 7 hours and knew that was the point it was becoming ridiculous.
Jack blatantly calls out how Dream uses manipulation tactics in how he speaks to the public. Tommy calls it painful for him to watch because it's what Dream had done to him and others in private.
Jack goes back to Dream's stream, talking about their phone call together, about how it was disingenuous and weird to bring up publicly. He says there are things he can't talk about publicly that formed his opinion.
"I just think he's like an impossibly self-indulgent, selfish man, who thinks everyone's on his own time." -Tommy
Jack thought Dream was purposefully being negligent in the way he would speak, and while he still is, he is seeing that a lot of it also comes from Dream not being able to pick up on social cues and norms. Though, he also reiterates that it doesn't excuse his awful behavior.
"I don't get how he can't listen to anyone else." -Tommy
Both of them have talked to Dream multiple times about how he acts and he never listens. Not even just them, they say "We all have really tried", which implies more members of the SMP or other personal friends.
"He doesn't seem to feel very much empathy for the pain he's caused, and if I was in his shoes- I don't know where his guilt is." -Tommy
They talk about his inability to apologize and how they can't understand it. Tommy gets a little heated. Dream has given them empty apologies and goes to do the same things again. They talk about how he doubles down over and over until no one sides with him, that's when he apologizes.
Jack calls Dream dismissive, and how its obvious that he doesn't care.
Tommy implores the audience to not imagine these dramas as Youtubers doing it, but to imagine their friends doing these things. Youtubers are not above others, there's no difference. The only difference is responsibility.
Jack points out how it's odd that they decide to post these things. It shows that they just double down on their awful actions.
Tommy ends by saying he doesn't want to continue this, but if there are things that need to be said then they will be, but on the Patreon.
Jack says he is done as well, that he's done with all his serious points, but he will be making jokes here and there. He won't be joking about rumors, but things that actually happened.
"Anyway, back to writing!" "Guys, let's all get back to coding."
696 notes · View notes
propertyofwicked · 9 months ago
Text
WAS IT REAL? - LN
lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?
based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧
warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)
the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3
masterlist the playlist
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✧ tell me was it real...
...or was it just pretend? ✧
“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”
“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”
“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”
“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.
lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.
since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.
“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”
“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.
y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.
“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.
“that’s never good,” she joked.
“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”
“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.
“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”
“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.
“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.
“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”
“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.
“ok.”
“ok?”
“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”
✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...
....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧
the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.
so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.
“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.
and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.
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their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.
“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”
“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.
“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.
“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.
“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.
and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.
lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.
“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.
y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.
im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.
lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.
she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.
“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.
“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.
there was no camera. they were totally alone.
✧ colours of the sky in your eyes
...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧
lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.
y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.
which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.
and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.
the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.
“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”
lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.
“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.
“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”
“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.
“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”
“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.
“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.
the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.
“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.
“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”
“gross.”
“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.
“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.
he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?
y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.
so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.
lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.
“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.
“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”
“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.
“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.
“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.
“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word
y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.
the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.
or not.
lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.
he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.
“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.
“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.
“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“what does that mean?”
“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”
“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”
“well no but-”
“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.
he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.
but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.
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he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.
she was gone, and it was all his fault.
✧ i know that you're perfect for me
…tell me that you're sorry
…won't you please just take my heart again ✧
it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.
“you did what?” max shouted in shock.
“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.
“you’re stupid.”
“i know.”
“in what world was that ever going to end well?”
“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.
“im so stupid,” max replied.
“how are you the stupid one here?”
“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”
lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.
“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.
“but she’s doing ok, right?”
“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.
“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.
“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”
“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”
“i know, sorry.”
“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”
y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.
she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.
y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.
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-
y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.
“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.
“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.
she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.
“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.
“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.
“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”
oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.
“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”
“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.
lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?
“he-”
“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.
“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.
“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.
“she doesn’t want to see you.”
“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”
“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.
that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.
“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.
“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.
it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.
“hey zak,” he started.
“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.
“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.
“im good.”
“what are you doing today?”
“just going over some things with the team.”
“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”
“war-”
“where’s she staying?”
“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.
“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.
z → mission complete.
o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?
z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him
of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.
his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.
“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”
“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.
“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.
“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.
“oscar’s here.”
“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.
lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.
“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.
“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”
“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.
“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.
“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”
“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.
“so why are you here now?”
“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.
the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?
“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.
“feel,” she said bluntly.
“huh?”
“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”
“then why won’t you let me in?”
“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”
“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”
lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.
“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.
“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.
“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.
“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.
“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.
“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”
“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.
“there’s a lot to make up for.”
“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.
lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.
“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.
“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.
“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”
1K notes · View notes
ofswordsandpens · 1 year ago
Text
actually I do want to talk about Sally Jackson a tad more because one criticism I've been hearing about her book counterpart more recently is "book Sally is one-dimensional: the perfect mother with no flaws" and that just has me biting my cheek because one part of her book counterpart that I always thought was ripe with discussion and didn't make it to the show is that Sally states that it was selfish of her to keep Percy close. It's one of the last things she says to him before she's "killed" by the minotaur.
And there's so much that we don't know about Sally because we view her from Percy's eyes. From his perspective we know that she's exceedingly kind, she never raises her voice to him or even Gabe, and she endured a horrible and abusive relationship to protect her son from monsters (of a different kind).
But there are things we can piece together from the text: Sally has known about CHB for a long time, apparently since before Percy was even born because Poseidon told her he wanted to send Percy there; she was told that it was a mistake for her to keep Percy close - who told her that, we're not sure, she only uses the phrase they; she's been in contact with Grover through out the school year; she knows that she can't cross the camp boundary line, which means either Grover or someone else (Chiron? Poseidon?) told her that, and that she understood that there was place that Percy would be safe from monsters.
And all of these little details are so interesting because it does make you wonder just how much she did or didn't know. Was her self assessment right? Was it selfish of her to keep Percy close?
On one hand, she kept him close because she loved him, alongside the fear that if she sent him to camp, she would be saying goodbye for good -- so is it even fair to call the act of keeping him close selfish? Or perhaps, much like Chiron, she assumed keeping Percy in the dark would be safer?
But on the other hand, Percy had been attracting monsters all his childhood, she understood camp was a safe place from monsters, and she had apparently been told explicitly that it was a mistake for her to keep him close.
And then adding in the factors of: Percy is her only family in the entire world, she's been suffering with Gabe for years, sacrificing so much in order to keep Percy safe when he's at home... but even that has a touch of sad irony because when we meet Percy in tlt, its at point when he's not really home at all -- he's been regularly sent off to boarding schools, so much so that he's internalized it as his own short-coming.
And all of this isn't to say "Omg Sally is actually horrible" or to assert definitely that she is selfish... but more to speak to the fact that in the books, she's not an all-perfect 2-dimensional mother. And her self-assessment of selfishness is something that is really interesting to explore and debate given the implications of what she apparently did (or did not) know about the godly world. I feel there's even an argument to be made that Sally being "selfish" could be a reflection of Percy's fatal flaw.
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mavigator · 1 year ago
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i talked about it a little bit already but i have things to say about it. for context, i was born with amniotic band syndrome. the amniotic band wrapped around my left wrist in utero and stunted the growth of my hand. i was born with about half a palm, four nubs for fingers, and a twisted half of a thumb. i can open and close my thumb and pinkie joint like a claw.
yesterday at work i had a shift in the room with 5-10 year old kids. i had my left hand hidden in my sleeve (a bad habit of mine). a kid asked if he could see my hand, and even though internally i was debating running into traffic, i said “sure you can” and showed him my hands. he stared for a moment, looking disturbed, and then said “i don’t want to look at that anymore”. that hurt to hear, but i understand that kids are new to the world and he probably didn’t mean it out of malice. i put my hand away again, told him that it was okay, and that i was just born that way.
he then went on to talk about how he knows a kid with a similar hand to mine and called it “ugly”. i told him that wasn’t a very kind thing to say and that he wouldn’t feel good if someone said that to him, and he replied that no one would say that to him—because he has “normal hands”, and he’s glad he does because otherwise he’d be “ugly”. i tried to talk with him for a bit about how everybody is born differently, but he just started talking about a girl he knows with a “messed up face” and pulled on his face to make it look droopy. i went on some more about how it wasn’t very kind to talk about people that way, but the conversation moved on to something else.
i’ve told my supervisors about it and they’re going to have a talk with his mom. what i wanted to say is this: i’m genuinely not upset with the kid. kids are young and naturally curious, and he clearly simply hasn’t been taught about disabled people and kind ways to speak to/about others. which is why i am upset with his parent(s). i know he’s encountered visibly deformed/disabled people before (he said so himself!), yet his parent(s) clearly haven’t had any kind of discussion with him about proper language and behavior. i knew from birth that some people were just different than others, but my parents still made a point to assert to be kind to and accepting of others. i wonder if adults in his life are the type of people to hush him and usher him away when he points out someone in a wheelchair. that kind of thing doesn’t teach politeness. it tells children that disabled people are an Other than can’t be acknowledged or spoken about; which, to a child, means disability must be something bad.
i’m lucky enough that this was a relatively mild incident, and that i’m a grownup with thicker skin. i’m worried about the other kids he mentioned to me. has he been talking to them this way? when i was a kid, i had other kids scream, cry, and run away at the sight of my hand. or follow me around pointing at me and laughing at me. or tell me i couldn’t do something because i was ugly or incapable or whatever. one time a girl at an arcade climbed to the top of the skeeball machine, pointed at me, and screamed at me to put my hand away and wouldn’t stop crying until she couldn’t see me anymore. another time, a kid saw my hand, screamed at the top of her lungs, and ran into my friend’s arms, crying hysterically about how i was scaring her. that second incident made me cry so hard i threw up when i got home. i can kind of laugh it off now, but having people react to me that way as a child is something i’m still getting over. why do you think i have a habit of keeping my hand in my sleeve? it just irritates me to see children that have clearly not been taught basic manners and kindness—their parents Clearly missed something pretty important .
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blackypanther9 · 11 months ago
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Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader
A/N: I decided to do this Oneshot/Headcanon for both, alive!Alastor x daughter!Reader and Demon!Alastor x Daughter!Reader. Enjoy ! (Picture belongs to rightful owner !)
TAGLIST!: @meg-giry1  @wen01203
WARNING!: mentions of the S word, name calling, insults, mentions of cheating, Vox and the other Vees get bullied in public AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!
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Human!Dad!Alastor x Human!Daughter!Reader:
When you start to talk about new Gossip:
Alastor was cooking Dinner as suddenly you bashed open the door, scaring the living daylights out of your Father. He quickly looked at you and made a face to scold you.
“Mon ange (My Angel), are you planning to give your dear ol’ Father a heart attack ?”
You ignored his scolding and gave him a big grin with a twinkle in your eyes. Alastor got intrigued.
“You will NEVER believe what I’ve heard, Papa ! That is some interesting tea indeed !”, you announced happily.
Your Father cocked his head to the side in curiosity, his smile not leaving, but it shrunk in curiosity and confusion.
“Oh ? What happened, Cher ?”
You entered the kitchen fully, pulled out a chair, sat down and looked at him.
“You do know Felicia Monrue, right ? You reported about her last week in your Broadcast, because she got caught drunk, even though there was no giggle water (Alcohol) allowed and she had to pay a hefty debt as punishment.”
“Ah...yes, I do remember her indeed. Hoho ! Such a gal getting caught.”, Alastor laughed out in humor, “Couldn’t even hold her own liquor, hahaha !”
You nodded eagerly.
“Well guess what !”
“What is it, mon petit (Little one) ?”
You looked around the house, as if anyone was listening in, then bounced and gave him a big mischievous smirk.
“Rumors have it, that she was spotted a few times with different men on her arm. She brought them home and someone heard lewd noises, while one of her neighbors swore they saw her and the different men in her bedroom, doing the forbidden act ! Can you believe it ?!”
Alastor took a sip of water, which he promptly spat out in shock, as you said that. He stared at you, then looked at his glass of water, then at the food he was cooking, then back to you and back at his drink.
“Am I sure that I am drinking water right now ?”, he muttered in shock.
“You are, Papa ! Stop being so silly !”, you replied laughing.
He looked at you again.
“You aren’t talking nonsense, right, Dear ? That poor Lady surely could never do such a scandalous thing.”
You shook your head.
“I really heard it, from more than one person too ! It already goes around like wildfire, Papa ! One even said that they have a picture of it ! If this gets out into the newspaper, her clothes store will shut down forever !”
Your Father shook his head and looked at his food, sighing in disappointment.
“Such a fine Dame and no class... Didn’t her parents teach her any manners ? How scandalous !”
You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a grin.
“Maybe it is just a faux, Papa, but it would be entertaining if it was true ! Don’t you agree ?”
“It sure would be, Cher. Anything else you heard rumors about, hmm ?”, your Father asked you amused.
“Oh ! There are new rumors about the Bayou Killer too.”
“Oh, do let me know ! I’d LOVE to hear their theories !”, your Father said enthusiastically.
“Some speculate now that it is a butcher and others that it is a doctor ! How ridiculous is that ?!”, you said laughing.
For a second the kitchen was silent and then Alastor broke out into laughter and he shook his head.
“A-a WHAT now ?! Hahahaha !”
Alastor laughed so hard that he wiped a tear away from his right eye. You looked at your Father in amusement.
“Stupid, isn’t it ? They really think you are a Doctor or even a Butcher ! I mean...you kind of are a Butcher, but at the same time, you are not !”
Alastor snorted in amusement and continued to cook Dinner, while you told him all the Gossip you heard and he discussed it all with you, happy to listen to anything you heard.
When Alastor starts to talk about new Gossip:
You were just returning from a quick shopping spree with some groceries as you saw your Father with a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a few bags from you and you both started to fill the kitchen cabinets and fridge with your catches that you got from the stores.
You knew that glint in your Father’s eyes. He heard something scandalous and amusing. You couldn’t wait.
As soon as you both finished, you entered the Living room and sat down on the couch, your Father sat down in the armchair.
“Alright, Dad, spill the tea. What rumors have you heard, hmm ?”, you pressed.
Alastor looked at you with one of his hugest smiles and started to chuckle.
“Do you remember Gwen Kosiak from my workplace, who quit his job not long ago ?”, your Father asked you.
“Yes. Why ?”
“Well my dear child, he was married and they seemed happy. Suddenly they divorced out of nowhere. Rumors have it that he cheated on his wife with the housemaid !”
You covered your mouth in shock.
“No way !”, you gasped out.
“Yes indeedy !”
You started to let out a chuckle.
“I would have never expected that from Gwen.”
“Me neither, Cher ! Me neither !”
You both chuckled and as it calmed down, your Father smirked.
“There has also been the rumor going around that the dress shop, you love to visit so frequently, is going bankrupt, because the owner of the store refuses to pay the rent !”
You stared at your Father gob smacked.
“Seriously ?”
All your Father did was nod.
“Indeedy !”
You leaned back in shock, then your face saddened.
“A real shame, guess I should look for a new favorite dress store then.”, you muttered.
“You definitely should, Cher !”, Alastor encouraged.
You could see that he wasn’t finished yet, so you waited for him to start the next section of discussion to gossip about.
“Also, Mrs. Tiana gave birth to her and her husband’s offspring ! The spawn looks nothing like them ! Hahaha !”
“You don’t think that she was going behind her husband’s back, do you ?”
“I think she was, Cher !”
“My, how scandalous ! Was it truly that bad ?”
“The child didn’t have their skin color, nor their hair color ! The child’s skin color was almost like mine and the hair was ginger ! Both of them were white and one had blond hair while the other had black hair. They both said that none in their Family tree had a different skin color, nor ginger hair ! So it just can’t be his offspring.”
You covered your mouth in shock.
“I never would have thought of Mrs. Tiana as a harlot.”, you muttered.
“None of us did, mon Cher ! Yet, here we are !”
The two of you continued to gossip and talk about rumors for a while. Alastor was always happy to listen, theorize with you and to talk about everything. He was almost like a woman, chattering about all the scoundrels that were talked about and you LOVED your Dad for that. He was practically both to you. A Mother and a Father. You never lacked anything.
In Hell:
When you start gossip:
Your Father was just about to wrap up his Broadcast in Hell, as you stormed inside. He looked at you startled, his Deer ears standing on high alert. As soon as he saw you, he rolled his eyes gently, scolding himself in his thoughts, that he got scared of you.
“Father, guess what !”, you announced happily.
Oh, he knew by that voice that you heard some gossip. He turned to you, leaving his broadcast on for now.
“What is it, Cher ?”, he asked.
“I heard some interesting tea about the Vees ! Wanna hear it ?!”
He perked up and looked at you highly interested. He snapped another chair into existence next to him and gestured for you to sit down. You did so eagerly.
“Now, what was that, Cher ?”, he asked, interested.
You were bouncing up and down on your chair.
“So, apparently Valentino and Vox are in a on and off relationship, just to screw each other, when Valentino’s harlots are too busy ! How desperate is that, Papa ?! Hahaha !”
Alastor, who sipped his black coffee, spat it back out and coughed into his sleeve from shock. Then he chuckled.
“That sounds pathetically desperate ! Hahaha ! I never thought that Vox would sink even lower than he already did !”, your Father laughed out.
“I didn’t know that Valentino was so depraved and pathetically desperate that he even fucks his own harlots ! Hahaha ! That just shows how unwanted he is !”, you laughed out.
“True, true, my Dear !”
“Oh, oh ! And have you heard that the Demon, Velvet dated, broke up with her ?!”
“Applesauce, mon petit !”, he yelled in fake shock.
“It’s true, Papa ! They apparently were dining in a restaurant and suddenly the man said that he is dumping her ass, then left the restaurant without paying too ! She left it, looking like a mess ! I bet the other two Vees had to coddle her to make it better ! HA ! How fucking pathetic for an Overlord !”
Alastor laughed loudly at that and petted your head, affectionately.
“Also, Vox tried to copy your Radio Station to make Radio Broadcasts himself, to grow bigger ! Can you believe how desperate that flat faced idiot is ?! Hahaha !”
“Is that so, Cher ?”, Alastor said partly amused, partly triggered.
“He tried to hide it from you too ! Sadly someone from his team snitched ! Hahahaha !”, you confirmed with laughter.
“Hmmm. Interesting indeed, Cher !”
“Also, some guests in Valentino’s porn clubs said that the hygiene in the bathrooms, of all the clubs, are so nasty that no one even wants to take a dump there ! Hahaha ! That insect is destroying his own image !”, you cackled out.
Alastor laughed at that.
“Well, what did you expect from a moth, Cher ? That they are clean ?”
“You would think his business and his employees means something to him, but it seems it wants to go broke soon enough !”
Alastor just chuckled and already planned how to teach Vox a lesson, for trying to take over Radio, HIS specialty.
The Broadcast went 30 minutes longer, discussing and gossiping about the Vees mostly.
After they finished their Broadcast, they saw that all of Pentagram City had a blackout. Welp, they fried Vox then with the other two Vees.
When Alastor starts gossip:
You both visited Rosie, just to catch up a bit and that was where everything went down. From a small pleasant exchange of how you all three have been, it turned into gossiping.
“My Dear, you have to be pulling our legs.”, Alastor accused Rosie in disbelief.
“I am not, Al ! I promise ya ! He really tried to eat her !”, Rosie insisted.
You just laughed and ate another finger that Rosie offered. You rarely did eat her treats that she offered, but today you were fine with it. Rosie knew about your picky diet swings, so she never felt insulted.
“What about you, Dear ? Any interesting gossip ?”, Rosie asked you.
“Oh quite some interesting ones, indeed !”, you replied.
“Oh do spill the tea, Dearie !”, Rosie said in excitement.
“Well, I heard that Zestial had three Sons and they are all down here. They say that Zestial hid them from everyone, because they are not very strong and he is ashamed of them.”
“Oh my...”, Rosie said in shock and intrigue.
Alastor was in slight shock and very interested in it.
“I will ask Zest about it tomorrow. After all we are supposed to meet up at Carmilla’s tomorrow. He is always there.”, you told her.
“Oh please do ask him ! I would love to know if these rumors are true !”
Then she turned to Alastor.
“And you, my friend ? What did you catch ?”
Alastor chuckled.
“A lot of people are starting to question Queen Lilith’s absence. Many say that she made a Deal with the Holy Gates. Others say that she got exterminated.”
“Hah ! As if anyone could kill our Queen ! She would NEVER agree to make a Deal with the Angels either ! How silly !”
Alastor chuckled and nodded, agreeing with Rosie, while you just shook your head in amusement.
“Also, it was rumored that Overlord Missi Zilla was seen with a lowlife Sinner, getting a bit steamy in an alley way.”
“No way !”, Rosie and you yelled.
“Yes, yes, indeedy !”, Alastor insisted.
Rosie leaned back.
“Oh my stars...”, she muttered.
“Who do you think it was ?”, you asked the two other Overlords.
“All I have heard was that the Demon Sinner was a bull. There was nothing else.”, Alastor chimed in.
“As if Missi would stoop that low.”, you scoffed.
“You never know, my Dear !”
And the gossip with Rosie and Alastor would continue for a long while, while you chimed in and shared your own gossip. You saw Rosie like a Mother figure and your Father didn’t mind it a bit. He was glad you liked Rosie.
You three Overlords would gossip for hours.
Alastor is a HUGE fan of gossip. You never know what interesting information you will hear, after all.
He would gossip with you, his beloved Daughter, like women would gossip amongst each other.
He would try and see if you were pulling his leg or not, but most of the times you were serious.
As soon as he got interesting gossip, he would immediately sit down with you and share, loving to bond with you over simple gossip.
He would always share a few laughs with you here and there.
He loves it when you have gossip/information about his enemies/victims. Somehow you just KNEW where and how to get the interesting tea ! He couldn’t be prouder !
He would never shut you down if you wanted to gossip with him. He would always listen and throw in his input/opinion on the matters discussed.
He is the perfect person to gossip with and so are you and Rosie.
I hope I hit the mark with this ! ^^'
(Words: 2 605)
Masterlist HERE !
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honeypiehotchner · 19 days ago
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The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part eight
More lore! Work and life have kept me busy busy busy but trust I am still here for this fic and will be finishing it! (Also if you can't tell I started writing this fic after I first watched the Seaver episodes and thought I can write this so much better and with so much more angst)
Warnings: Rossi being Rossi, Hotch doing something he really shouldn't be doing but he thinks it's justified and maybe it is so who's to say if he's in the wrong!
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You first knew something was different about your dad when you were ten.
There were the usual, obvious things that confused you as a kid. Like when he’d go away for long stretches of time, only to return like nothing had happened and act like he was never gone at all. Or when he’d return with these extravagant gifts, as if that made up for the birthday party he missed, or the big recital. Or when you heard your parents arguing, your mom tearfully asking if there was someone else, and screaming “I don’t believe you!” when your dad insisted there was no one.
There are the less obvious things that confuse you now, things you look back on when you want to analyze his behavior. Why he traveled so far to find his victims, why he tried to live a double life, why he did any of it at all. You dip your hands into the memories day after day and each time you come up empty handed. Why did he let you get kidnapped, only to help them find you? Was he ever behind your kidnapping at all? You don’t know. You’ll never know.
Even if you could ask him, you don’t know that you would. Your mom picked you up, changed your name, and moved you away for a reason. She gave you a fresh start. She’s the reason you are where you are, and you’re not going to throw that away. 
You had no idea Rossi worked on your father’s case all those years ago. You knew the BAU had gotten involved briefly at one point, but not who. 
What are the odds and what kind of bad luck streak do you have to have to be working with one of the investigators who helped catch your father?
The ceiling offers you no answers. You left the precinct as quickly as you could, wanting to take a hot shower and crawl in bed and pretend to be asleep when Hotch or Rossi inevitably knocks on your door later.
Rossi knows. He must. Why else would he look at you like that? And if he does, how long has he known? Has he told Hotch? Would he tell Hotch, or would he keep it quiet? Does he know that part of your file is sealed? Does he know you discussed it with Strauss, keeping that part of your life sealed because it isn’t relevant, not after all the work you did to create a separate life?
You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep asking this many questions, but how are you supposed to stop? 
You’ve worked too hard to create a life completely separate from your father to let it all unravel like this. You knew it was risky going into this line of work, let alone the BAU, but with a name change and two decades worth of distance, you thought it was deep enough in the past. You thought you had buried it far enough below the surface.
You cannot afford to have it haunt you like this, to interfere with your work so badly that you flee. You have to figure this out. And you have to get yourself under control.
+++
Hotch and Rossi are, like most nights, the last two at the precinct, trying to squeeze out some final leads before calling it a night. They don’t get far, and it’s Rossi who caves, saying they should get some rest for once. Hotch is quicker than usual to agree.
“What was that about earlier? About The Strangler?” Hotch asks. “Since you worked it, do you think we have a copycat on our hands?” 
It’s a poor excuse for a subject change, and Rossi is onto him in a second.
He shakes his head. “No, we don’t.”
Hotch grabs his cup and heads for the door. “And…Y/N? She seemed shaken up.”
Rossi raises an eyebrow, changing the subject slightly. “You two seemed to be getting along today.”
Hotch lets out a laugh as they exit the precinct. “We’ll be back to our usual selves tomorrow, probably, don’t worry.”
“I hope not,” Rossi says, rounding the car to hop in the passenger side. “You’re the only people who like to hear you two bickering, you know.”
Hotch rolls his eyes, sticking the keys in the ignition. “I don’t like arguing with her. She just insists on it.”
“And you push her buttons.”
“I don’t try to.”
Rossi only smiles to himself, always happy to rile Hotch up in whatever way he can, especially when it comes to you. It’s too easy to do it.
Rossi is able to convince Hotch to head back to the hotel, but not to grab a drink at the bar.
“I think I’m just gonna head to bed,” Hotch says, pausing outside the elevator. “You should too.”
“I will,” Rossi smirks, though he turns toward the bar anyway, nodding to Hotch as he presses the up arrow for the elevator.
Rounding the corner, Rossi finds a familiar face perched on a bar stool, nursing a glass of red wine.
He watches you briefly, gauging whether you’d like to be left alone. He can’t tell. He decides to slide onto the stool next to you, waving the bartender down to order two fingers of whiskey.
You won’t look at him. You won’t look anywhere other than your wine, but you knew Rossi and Hotch had come back. You could hear Hotch’s voice from the lobby, your body tense as you prepared for them both to make their way here and see you not at all asleep like you said you’d be.
You meant to sleep. But your mind was wide awake, and before you knew it, you were dragging yourself downstairs for a glass of wine, hoping the alcohol would tire you out.
And now, apparently, the price you’ll pay is a conversation with Rossi.
Seeing as he’s here alone, you figure there’s no sense in hiding behind cryptic sentences and silence. Better to rip the band-aid off now, while no one else is around.
“How long have you known?” you ask, studying the stem of your glass instead of looking him in the eye.
The bartender sets Rossi’s whiskey down in front of him. Rossi nods to him, and hands a black card over. “Another glass of red for her, please. On me.”
You swirl the remaining swallow of wine in your glass before downing it. The bartender replaces it with a silent smile before leaving you both alone.
Rossi takes a sip of his whiskey, studying the array of liqueurs along the wall across from him. “Do you remember meeting me?”
It’s not an answer to your question and it confuses you. “Yeah? You told me ‘good luck’ with Hotch because I was late.”
“No,” Rossi shakes his head with a fond smile, turning his head to look at you. “You were young.”
You wrack your brain, trying to remember when you might’ve met him. You come up empty, but you’re not surprised that you don’t remember. Your memories are hazy at best from those times, but the few you do remember are vivid. Just none of them include David Rossi.
“It was brief,” Rossi says, taking your silence for the answer it is. “After we had found you, and we needed to talk to your mom about some of what your dad admitted to while we had him in custody while we searched for you.”
That day comes back to you in fits and starts, flashes here and there. A much younger David Rossi floats into your mind, but with no words to accompany him, except—
“Didn’t you offer me a cup of coffee?”
He laughs quietly. “I did. I was trying to lighten the mood.”
“It worked,” you say, remembering with a smile. You pause. “So you’ve known the whole time?”
He shakes his head. “I thought I recognized you the first day, but I ignored it. It wasn’t until tonight that it clicked all together. You are twenty years older, you know.”
“Hey,” you feign hurt, punching him lightly in the arm. “You too, old man.”
“Don’t remind me,” he chuckles, taking another sip of his whiskey. “Have you told Hotch?”
You practically snort into your wine glass. “God, no.” You pause to take a long sip, needing it to steel your nerves. “Only Strauss knows, because she saw my background check before I asked to have some of it sealed. My father and original name were part of what I decided to have redacted.” You take a deep breath. “My mom moved us away and changed our last names for a reason. A fresh start. A new life without being haunted by what my father did.”
Rossi nods slowly. “Well you’ve got everyone suspicious after how you acted earlier.”
You grimace. “I know.” Not your finest moment.
“Why not get it over with and tell everyone?” Rossi asks. “Or at least Hotch?”
You roll your eyes. “He’ll look at me differently.”
“Will he?” Rossi argues gently. “How do you know?”
You give Rossi a look. “Because I know him.” 
Rossi hums. He doesn’t need to say anything to prompt you to continue.
“He already hates that I’m here — as if working with him is any better — and I’m sure he’s looking for any reason he can to tell Strauss to get rid of me,” you scoff. “The last thing I need is him saying I’m unfit for the job just because I’m a little shaken up at a random mention of the man who nearly killed me and my mother.”
Rossi goes still beside you, turning his head slowly.
You sigh, finishing off your second glass of wine. “You’re telling me none of you suspected he had tried anything with my mom and me?”
Rossi shakes his head. “We were never told otherwise, and your mom—”
“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “She loved him.”
Rossi frowns at your dismissal, resting his hand on the bar, but not touching you. “No one will fault you if you need time.”
“I’ve had two decades of time, Rossi,” you cry, placing your forehead in your hand. “I thought that was long enough.”
This time, he does reach for you, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. He’s never seen you this broken up, not even when you were thirteen, after they found you, when they all expected you to be upset. You were put together back then, your brain having not had any time to process it all. Now, you’ve had the time to process, you’ve lived your life in between, and it still haunts you. Because it always will. Because these things don’t just go away, no matter how badly you want them to.
“It’ll always be hard,” Rossi says. “I’m sorry I can’t say it goes away.”
You snort, burying your face further into your hand. “I wish it would. He’s dead, I wish he’d stop following me around.”
“You couldn’t have chosen a different career?” Rossi teases, shaking your shoulder a bit before letting go.
It does make you laugh, because he’s right. “I know. What was I thinking?” Your mother tried talking you out of it, but you never listened. She eventually came around to the idea after she heard you talk about how much you loved helping people, but it always worried her somewhat.
“I have no idea,” Rossi says, smiling around his whiskey as he finishes it off. “I’m having another, would you like one?”
You shake your head, sitting up. “No, no…I should actually go to bed now, I think, but thank you. For the wine and the uh, conversation.”
“Anytime,” Rossi says, squeezing your shoulder one more time. “Get some rest.”
“You too,” you give him a pointed look, eyeing the new whiskey the bartender sets down.
“I’ll sleep good after this,” he picks up the glass, raising it toward you.
You roll your eyes as you head back toward the elevator, strangely feeling lighter — and not because of the alcohol. You’ll begrudgingly admit, talking it out with Rossi helped.
But that doesn’t mean talking to Hotch about it will have the same effect.
+++
Back in his hotel room, Hotch takes a shower and crawls into bed. He tosses and turns for an hour, staring a hole into his eyelids. He gets up to take a walk around the room, hoping it’ll help. All it does is make him pause when he spots his briefcase, knowing what lies inside.
The files he asked Garcia to pull weren’t unusual. Just your background check, with one condition. To unseal whatever was hidden. 
Because he had thought it was odd for you to have parts of it sealed, let alone that Strauss agreed to let you. But it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to argue with Strauss about. 
After seeing you stop breathing entirely at the mention of The Strangler — an obscure case, one truly infamous only to Reid and his eidetic memory — Hotch is worried. That’s the only name he can think of to give the feeling swarming in his chest.
He’s worried about one of his agents, and dammit, he feels like that is a justifiable enough reason to do some digging. If it concerns the well-being of one of the agents he oversees, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try to get to the bottom of it. Even if they seem hellbent on keeping it hidden.
That’s all the convincing he needs to do for himself before he walks over and snatches his briefcase off the desk, opening it with a click. 
Your file lies right where he left it, along with Penelope’s sticky note. Her gel writing makes him pause.
Should he be reading this?
What’s his alternative, though? Asking you outright? That will only start a fight, or worse, you’ll quit on the spot. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to tell him what’s going on, and if he pushes too far, you’re both liable to say things you can’t take back.
This is better. It’s going behind your back, but it’s better. Is it really betraying your trust if it’s clear you don’t trust him? You don’t even like him, which you have made abundantly clear. 
You seemed to open up a little to him today, but that doesn’t mean tomorrow you won’t be right back to the way you were yesterday. There’s no way to know for sure.
So, Hotch stops the back and forth, and pulls the file out, flipping to the second page. Then the third. Then to what was sealed.
The words jump out at him too fast for him to understand them, his heart thundering in his ears as he reads.
Your name — the one he knows you by — is not what you were born with. Well, your first name is, but your middle and surname are changed entirely. Your original surname was Adkins.
Adkins. Like—
His eyes scan further, finding the inevitable on your birth certificate. Your father. Carson Adkins.
You were fourteen when your names changed. Fourteen when you moved to Washington state. Fourteen when your mother changed her surname, too, back to her maiden name — the one you now have. Fourteen when your life started over.
Because when you were thirteen, Carson Adkins, The Strangler, threatened to end it.
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jburrgf · 4 months ago
Text
Bags.
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“Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time. I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine. Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse, walking out the door with your bags.”
pairing: joe burrow high school! x book nerdy y/n reader.
summary: high school sweethearts, book nerdy girl, shy-misterious jock, player x nerd girl.
description: joe starts going on s/n book club, and one day they got stuck together at the classroom by mistake.
It was a truth universally acknowledged in my high school that Joe Burrow, the star quarterback, was unattainable. Joe Burrow is basically a myth. He’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time—on the football field, leading our team to state championships, and in my honors classes, where he sits quietly, blending into the background. He’s the quarterback, but he's not what people expect. He’s shy, nerdy, and mysterious.
I’ve always been invisible to Joe Burrow.
I mean, not exactly invisible—we’ve gone to the same school since we were in kindergarten, sat in the same classrooms, shared the same air—but for someone like him, I might as well have been a ghost. I always thought he had no idea who I was, just another face in the sea of people who adored him.
Still, I was ridiculously in love with him.
I had been hopelessly, head-over-heels, and completely smitten with Joe Burrow since the seventh grade. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking, or that he was the star quarterback—although those things certainly didn’t hurt. No, what had drawn me to Joe was how kind he seemed to be to everyone, how he went out of his way to help people even when he didn’t have to. There was something about the way he carried himself, a quiet humility that made him different from the other guys on the football team.
Still, none of that mattered because, as far as I was concerned, I was just another face in the crowd.
So, when I saw Joe walk into the same after-school book club that I attended every Tuesday, I was shocked. The school's book club is a quiet, nerdy escape for me after hours, and apparently for him too. At first, I thought he had wandered into the wrong room, but then I saw him sit down and pull out a copy of Great Gatsby. The fact that the quarterback was not only in the same room as me but also reading the same book threw me completely off-guard. For weeks, I couldn’t focus on anything but how to avoid making eye contact with him while somehow hoping he’d notice me.
But he didn’t.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself every single time I snuck a glance at him. He was quiet, focused, and didn’t engage much during discussions, unlike me. I always had my hand up, always contributing to the conversation, but never to him directly.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the faint scent of old paper filled the school library. I sat in my usual spot, the far corner of the room where the sunlight barely touched. My hands played absently with the spine of the novel in my lap, but my mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was on Joe Burrow.
He was late to the book club meeting again, not that it surprised me. I was used to him sliding in just as Mrs. Fowler began her rambling analysis of whatever novel we were discussing. His late arrivals had almost become routine. He’d offer a sheepish grin, mutter a quick apology, and take his seat across the table from me. Every time, my heart did that ridiculous thing—skipping a beat or two—like I wasn’t used to seeing him in the same room after months of this.
He was a mystery I couldn’t quite solve. In class, he was quiet, smart, but always reserved. In the hallways, he blended in despite the attention the football team got. And here, in book club, of all places, he sat a few feet away, focused, intense, and always... distant. It drove me crazy, even though I had no right to expect anything from him.
I sighed, glancing at the clock. Mrs. Fowler was wrapping up her talk about the The Great Gatsby, and I hadn’t heard a single word. The meeting was almost over, and there was still no sign of Joe. Maybe today he wasn’t coming at all. Maybe—
The door creaked open, and there he was, slipping inside the room as quietly as possible, his eyes scanning the room. As expected, his gaze landed on the empty seat across from me, and my pulse quickened. He muttered his usual apology, and Mrs. Fowler barely acknowledged him. I kept my eyes down, pretending to be engrossed in the pages of my book, but my mind was far from calm. I could feel his presence like a warm weight across from me.
The minutes ticked by, and the meeting ended, the rest of the club members gathering their things to leave. I lingered, as usual, taking my time. Joe remained seated too, flipping through his copy of Gatsby, even though he’d barely participated today. I stole a glance at him, hoping he wouldn’t catch me. But as fate would have it, our eyes met.
My heart jumped into my throat, and I quickly looked away, my face heating up. Get a grip, Y/N, I scolded myself. He’s just a guy. A guy who probably doesn’t even—
“Hey, Y/N,” Joe’s voice broke through my thoughts, soft and hesitant.
I blinked, turning back to him, my heart now hammering in my chest. “Oh, hey,” I managed to say, surprised he’d even spoken to me.
He gave me a small, nervous smile, like he wasn’t sure if he should have said something or not. “Did you like the book?”
I blinked again. “The book?” I repeated, feeling like an idiot. “Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s a classic, right?” Great response, I thought sarcastically.
Joe nodded, and for a second, it seemed like he might say something more, but then he fell silent, his attention shifting to the clock on the wall. “I guess we better—”
Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the sound of a door clicking shut made both of us freeze. I glanced toward the entrance of the library, my stomach dropping as the realization hit. “No way…”
Joe got up, striding over to the door and trying the handle. It didn’t budge. He pushed it again, harder this time, but nothing happened. “I think… we’re locked in,” he said, turning back to me with a bewildered look.
For a moment, I just stared at him, processing the situation. Locked in? With Joe Burrow?
I stood up, clutching my book to my chest as I walked over to the door, peering through the glass. The hallway was dark, deserted. “The janitor must have locked up,” I muttered, feeling a strange mixture of panic and disbelief. “They didn’t notice we were still in here.”
Joe let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Well, this is… unexpected.”
I glanced up at him, the reality of the situation sinking in. We were stuck. Together. For who knows how long.
“Yeah,” I breathed, my heart racing. “Unexpected.”
We sat in silence for a while, both of us too awkward to speak. Joe leaned back against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him, while I perched on the edge of a desk, nervously flipping through the pages of my book. The quiet between us was almost suffocating, and I could feel my pulse in my ears.
“Do you think they’ll notice we’re gone soon?” I asked after what felt like forever.
Joe shrugged, his eyes flicking to the window. “Maybe. But I think most people have already gone home.”
I swallowed, trying not to let the panic rise. “Great. Just… great.”
Joe chuckled again, and I glanced at him, surprised by the sound. It was soft, genuine, and I realized then how rare it was to hear him laugh. His eyes caught mine, and for a moment, the tension between us eased.
“You don’t seem like the type to panic easily,” he said, a teasing note in his voice.
I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know me very well, then.”
The silence stretched out between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts. I could feel the warmth of Joe’s presence even though we weren’t sitting close. My mind raced, but my words seemed stuck somewhere in my throat, tangled up with nerves. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he fidgeted with the cover of his book, his fingers tracing the edges like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“Um,” I started, then immediately regretted it. The sound of my own voice startled me, and I felt my cheeks heat up. “What… what about you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you join the club?”
Joe shifted a little, glancing at me briefly before his gaze darted back to the floor. He shrugged, his shoulders rising in that quiet, unsure way that made him seem far less like the confident quarterback everyone assumed he was.
“I guess… I just like books,” he muttered, his voice soft. “It’s easier than… you know, everything else.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant. “Yeah. It’s kind of nice to disappear into a story sometimes. I get the feeling. Nobody know me."
Joe gave a small nod, still not quite meeting my eyes. There was a vulnerability in the way he held himself that surprised me. Here was Joe Burrow—the guy everyone talked about, the quarterback who led our school’s football team to victory—and yet, in this quiet room, he seemed almost… unsure. Just like me.
The room felt smaller suddenly, like the space between us wasn’t as wide as it had been moments ago. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught in my throat, tangled up with my nerves. I wasn’t used to talking to Joe, and now that we were alone, I found myself hyper-aware of every small movement he made, every glance he sent in my direction.
After what felt like an eternity, Joe cleared his throat, the sound quiet but startling in the stillness. “I’ve… always noticed you,” he said suddenly, his voice barely audible.
My heart stopped. I blinked, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. “What?” The word slipped out before I could stop it.
Joe’s face flushed a deep red, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. “I—I mean, not in a weird way,” he stammered, his words rushed and awkward. “Just… you’re always there, you know? In class. In book club. And, uh, you’re really smart. I just… noticed.”
I stared at him, completely at a loss for words. Joe Burrow— Joe Burrow —had noticed me? My heart raced, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I was too stunned, too flustered.
Joe shifted uncomfortably, clearly regretting his confession. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean to—”
“No!” I blurted out, louder than I intended. I winced at the sound of my own voice, feeling my face grow even hotter. “I mean, it’s not weird. I just… I didn’t know.”
Joe’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. There was something raw and uncertain in his gaze, something that made my stomach flip in a way I didn’t fully understand. He looked just as nervous as I felt, and somehow, that made it easier to breathe.
“I didn’t think you’d ever notice me,” I admitted quietly, my voice shaky but honest.
Joe’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. “No, that’s… I mean, how could I not? You’re…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words. “You’re kind of amazing.”
My heart stopped again. Amazing? Me?
I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t used to compliments—especially not from Joe Burrow. I could barely manage to look at him without feeling like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. So instead of speaking, I just offered a small, shy smile, hoping it was enough to show him I appreciated what he said.
The silence between us stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It felt like we’d crossed some invisible line, like something had shifted between us. Neither of us knew what to do with that shift, but neither of us seemed to want to break it, either.
After what felt like forever, Joe glanced toward the door, then back at me. “Do you think… we’ll be stuck here for a while?”
I shrugged, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me despite the situation. “Maybe. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Joe nodded, but instead of looking anxious like he had before, he just leaned back against the wall, his posture relaxing a little. I could feel the tension in my own shoulders easing too, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t mind the idea of being stuck in this room. Not with Joe.
“I’ve always thought you were too smart for me,” he confessed, avoiding eye contact as he ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t know how to talk to you. And then, everyone expects me to be this... athlete. Like that’s all I’m good for.”
I was speechless for a second. How could someone like Joe, someone so confident on the field, be so unsure of himself off it? That quiet moment between us, surrounded by old paperbacks and classroom desks, felt like something out of a story I’d read before. And suddenly, all the reasons I’d convinced myself he wouldn’t ever notice me melted away.
“You don’t seem like the typical quarterback,” I said before I could stop myself.
Joe raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “What does that mean?”
I blushed, realizing how that sounded. “I just mean… you’re here. In book club. That’s not exactly where you’d expect the star athlete to be.”
He laughed, the sound soft and self-deprecating. “Yeah, I guess not. But I’ve always liked reading. It’s just… different from what everyone expects.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant. We sat in companionable silence after that, the quiet no longer feeling so heavy.
As the minutes ticked by, the air between us softened, and the weight of our earlier awkwardness started to lift. Joe’s posture became more relaxed, and for the first time, I felt like we weren’t just two strangers stuck in the same room. We were two people who, despite everything, had more in common than I ever realized.
“So,” Joe started again, his voice low but steady, “if you like reading so much, do you have a favorite book?”
I bit my lip, considering his question. It seemed like a simple one, but the answer was anything but. There were so many stories I loved for so many different reasons. “It’s hard to pick just one,” I admitted. “But I guess, if I had to choose… maybe *Jane Eyre*.”
Joe’s eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his head slightly. “*Jane Eyre*? Really?”
I nodded, feeling a little self-conscious but also oddly proud. “Yeah. I mean, it’s more than just a romance. It’s about finding yourself and standing up for what you deserve, even when the world expects you to settle.”
Joe’s lips quirked up into a soft smile, and for a moment, I wondered if he was laughing at me. But then, he nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. It’s... about being strong, right? Even when things don’t go your way.”
“Exactly.” I smiled, surprised that he seemed to understand. “I guess I always admired Jane for that. She never let anyone make her feel small.”
Joe’s smile faded just a little, his eyes dropping to the floor again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I get that more than you’d think.”
His words hung in the air between us, and I felt my chest tighten. I wanted to ask what he meant, but the look on his face told me it wasn’t something he’d share easily. He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck again—a nervous habit I was beginning to notice. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer than before.
“People always assume things about me,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the floor. “Like, because I’m the quarterback, I have it all figured out. But… most of the time, I don’t. I feel like everyone’s watching, expecting me to be someone I’m not.”
I stared at him, feeling a sudden pang of sympathy. I had never considered what it might be like to be Joe Burrow. To have all that pressure on your shoulders, to be constantly seen but never really known. “That sounds… hard,” I said quietly.
Joe nodded, his expression still serious. “It is. But… then there are moments like this.” He glanced up at me, his eyes meeting mine, and my breath caught in my throat. “Where it feels like maybe… I don’t have to pretend.”
For a second, neither of us said anything. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and the room suddenly felt a lot smaller. Joe’s eyes stayed locked on mine, and I could see the vulnerability there, the quiet need for something real—something he didn’t have to fake.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” I whispered.
Joe’s gaze softened, and the tension between us thickened, but not in the awkward way it had before. This was different. There was something unsaid in the air, something I wasn’t sure either of us was brave enough to address. But it was there, lingering in the space between us, waiting for one of us to make the next move.
Joe shifted again, pushing off the wall and taking a small step toward me. My heart pounded louder in my ears as he came closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and suddenly, all the air seemed to disappear from the room.
“So, what book are you reading lately?” I asked.
His eyes met mine then, blue and steady. “Oh, um... just some science fiction stuff. I’m not as into the classics like you seem to be.”
I blushed. “How do you know what I read?”
Joe smiled, a little shyly, looking down at his hands. “I pay attention more than you think.” He stopped for a moment and got back talking again. “I’ve liked you for a long time. But I never thought you’d be interested in me. I mean, you’re... you. And I’m just... well, I’m just the guy who throws a football.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Joe Burrow—*the* Joe Burrow—liked me? All this time?
“I—I don’t even know what to say,” I stammered, still reeling from the shock.
He glanced up at me then, his blue eyes more vulnerable than I’d ever seen them. “You don’t have to say anything. I just... I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time, but I was too nervous. I didn’t think I was good enough for you.”
I shook my head, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “Joe, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember.”
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The room felt impossibly small, like the world outside had shrunk away and all that existed was the two of us.
“I never asked you out because I thought you were too smart for me. You always know what you want and you’re so intellectual and funny, and smart, and beautiful…” Joe admitted softly, his gaze still locked on mine. “I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like me.”
I couldn’t believe it. All this time, I had thought he was out of my league, that he didn’t even know I existed. And yet, here he was, confessing that he felt the same insecurities about me.
“I always thought you didn’t even notice me,” I whispered.
He smiled then, a small, soft smile that made my heart ache in the best way. “I noticed.”
My breath caught, and suddenly, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. Joe took another step closer, so close now that I could feel the warmth of his body against mine. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up to my eyes.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that Joe Burrow was standing inches away from me, looking at me like he wanted to close the distance between us.
He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my skin. My heart raced, and for a moment, I thought—this is it. I thought he was going to kiss me.
But just as the space between us seemed to disappear, the sound of keys jingling echoed from the hallway. The door creaked open, and the janitor appeared, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw us.
“Oh!” he said, startled. “Didn’t realize anyone was still in here. You two okay?”
Joe stepped back quickly, his face flushing red. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as well, the moment shattered in an instant. “Uh, yeah,” Joe muttered, running a hand through his hair nervously. “We’re good. Just… stuck.”
The janitor chuckled, oblivious to the tension in the room as he held the door open for us. “Well, you’re free to go now.”
I glanced at Joe, my heart still racing from the almost-moment we’d shared. His eyes met mine briefly before he looked away, his face still red. Neither of us spoke as we gathered our things and made our way to the door.
But as we stepped into the hallway, Joe’s hand brushed against mine, just for a second. It was brief, but enough to send a jolt of electricity through me.
“Y/N,” Joe said softly, his voice hesitant, “about what I was going to say before…”
I looked up at him, my heart still racing. “Yeah?”
He swallowed, his eyes flicking away for a moment before returning to mine. “Would you, um… maybe want to go to the spring dance with me? If you’re not, you know, already going with someone.”
My breath caught, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. He looked so nervous, standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets, waiting for my answer.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. “I’d love to.”
Joe's face lit up with relief, a shy smile pulling the corners of his mouth. "Great. I was so afraid of you saying no to me."
"I could never," I said, honestly.
"That's... that's perfect." He agreed with me. "So, I'll pick you up around 7:40 pm, okay?"
I agreed with my head, giving him a smile back. But instead of Joe moving away from me, he started walking towards me. Slowly, making my heart throb inside my chest. The last thing I saw was his eye just before mine, and then he kissed me.
Like a real kiss. A kiss from the movies, that kind of kiss you say to your children. His lips were soft, his mouth tasted like peppermint. His hands were lost, but he found his way to the place I liked - my waist.
The boy walked away, looking into my eyes soon after. I just couldn't believe it. He smiled, shy, his cheeks turning red at an extreme speed, showing that he was also nervous. Nervous just like me.
"So..." He started talking again, but suddenly stopped. "Sorry, I got lost. I didn't expect this to happen today. Actually, I wanted to, but not in a strange way, you know-
"Joey." I called him by his nickname and saw his eyes getting brighter. "It's okay. I got you. See you at 7:00 at my house?"
He smiled, winking at me. "I'll see you on Tuesday." He smiled again. "We can read our books together after the club.
"It looks like a plan!" It was the last thing I said to him when I turned my back on him.
We separated in the hallway, but as I walked towards the exit, I couldn't stop smiling. I had come to the book club just expecting another quiet afternoon. Instead, I left with the promise of something new—something real. Something real with Joey.
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olderthannetfic · 2 months ago
Note
/olderthannetfic/769334704445997057/another-fandometrics-year-in-review-another-bevy
I am - genuinely - very sympathetic to the frustrations of solely f/f shippers and I DO think some people are a little too quick to shrug off the lack of f/f in fandom spaces with “lack of representation in media what can you do” when fandom is all about assigning personalities and backstories to one-line characters. HOWEVER. As someone who likes all kinds of ships, the experiences I have had across many MANY fandoms with solely f/f shippers treating people who also liked the main m/m ship as traitors and bad feminists, not to mention the number of people who have told me, a trans man, that I HAVE to write more f/f and less m/m For The Sisterhood, has made me LESS likely to engage in f/f, not more. Some of y’all are your own worst enemy when it comes to this stuff I swear. (Hashtag not all femslashers, hashtag some of my best friends are femslashers, etc)
--
Demands that people defend and explain perfectly commonplace things always end up generating dumber and dumber explanations.
I agree that that explanation by itself is kind of weak, but "Why are you asking only about AO3?" (as people often are) plus representation problems plus the other commonly cited reasons add up to a perfectly sufficient explanation. People just don't like what they're hearing.
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The kind of f/f fandom people are often looking for—a by cis wlw, for cis wlw one—is not that different in size from the by cis mlm, for cis mlm one. They are both small.
Yes, I know they pretend that's not what they mean. They are lying. Possibly to themselves. Just look at the bawwwwing over the idea that cis men liking f/f could add to the amount of f/f art or the audience for the same.
Many AO3 slashers are better compared to transbian catgirls making lesbian furry porn or cis dudes horny for Buffy/Faith or something. There are plenty of people who care about f/f. They're just not necessarily the ~right~ people in the right spaces making the right art to count in some wanker's statistics.
Part of the reason our explanations and discussions always sound so bonkers is that we constantly compare apples to oranges.
--
And while we're at it, let's talk about that hoary old ~one-line character~ thing.
The reality is that we like to talk about how we elevate random walk-on characters, but the vast majority of shippy AO3 fanfic is about fairly major characters. Clint/Coulson was bizarrely popular in 2012. It has been twelve years. It is time to get over it.
On top of most things focusing on leads, the focus is often on characters who are given a lot of interiority. The audience is invited to be in their head and care about their feelings. People aren't usually good at analyzing film, so they use more familiar metrics involving text: how many lines do they have in the script? How many minutes does that translate to on screen? They don't know how to quantify a character being treated as an object to be looked at beyond "Booty shorts bad". But it's not general sex appeal or amount of skin on display that matters here.
As audiences, we respond to film grammar and "Just happen to like" or not like some character as a result of it, but we aren't aware of the mechanics, so we can't explain why beyond vague spluttering and "How dare you! Everyone should think this because it's the natural response!"
In general, media with multiple central women who have intense relationships with each other and who are conventionally attractive generate plenty of interest in f/f. Media with one hot girl who has the camera trained on her ass all the time while the men do everything interesting usually don't.
It's a no brainer and the harebrained explanations come from trying to look deeper to find the secret conspiracy where there is none.
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The biggest mistake of most of this dumb discourse is "But I see all these queer women here. Why isn't there more f/f?"
This presupposes some default "normal" level of f/f without any actual justification for why that would be expected. You see the same nonsense from people going "Why is there so much m/m?"
What's the default? 10% because of the fake statistic that 10% of people are gay? 75% because action movies are sausagefests and all the important relationships are between men? What's the "normal" level of femslash? 25% because f/f, f/m, m/m, and gen are all equally valid? 80% because lots of fanfic writers are women?
Chasing one precise number is a fool's errand, but building a whole theory on the idea that there's an implicit number without even digging into that assumption is more foolish still.
When you look at the fanfic (or art!) spaces that are full of dudes, they often look like a bit of a mirror of AO3. Lots of het still. Lots of f/f. Lots of lady blorbos people are obsessed with. Limited m/m. Depending on the space, there might be a lot more gen. It's not perfectly 1:1, but then AO3 isn't precisely like other chick-heavy fanfic spaces anyway.
--
In my experience, the thing that makes a blorbo take off is that they're fairly major in canon, often driving the narrative even if they aren't the main protagonist, and they show up early.
In the cases where they weren't there at the very beginning, them showing up was the catalyst for fans who like this type of character to get into the canon at all. It's not just Castiel: you see it with Methos from Highlander and plenty of others. It's usually in a context where that fandom didn't have that much established for this type of fan. There wasn't a second dude to pair the lead with or the ship turned some people off or something. Highlander, for example, had fucktons of het shippers, both of canon het and of various OFCs and canon dudes. It was the slashers who stampeded over there when friends told them there was new ship potential for m/m. SPN... Sam/Dean was very popular on LJ, but I think it's obvious why a viable non-brother ship was of interest to people. I watched tons of people get pimped into Teen Wolf for Sterek. Of course they ended up liking it and not really caring about other ships: they were pre-selected to like that specific vibe. (And they are all wrong because Scott is the best and Derek has weird teeth.) The same thing happens with f/f. People get into media all the time because they're promised such-and-such a ship dynamic.
Wynonna Earp had plenty of people who were there for the women because the women are who matter for the most part. People were super into the canon f/f because it's hot and because it didn't seem like they were just going to get hit by a bus and shooed out of the narrative.
How many things that everybody and their sister saw have that many main women who matter? Some, definitely, but they're outnumbered by the sausagefests and by the things with very central het. Not everything with a huge audience gets a big fanfic fandom, but most things with big fanfic fandoms do have a big audience. You need critical mass to make a fandom happen.
Something like MCU has a variety of tasty shipping options, but the characters it spent all its time on first were the small selection of guys fandom cares the most about. When other characters were established very early, they also had an early spurt of fandom. I can't be the only one who remembers Pepperony fandom on LJ. It wasn't just people tagging canon ships in the background: Pepper/Tony shippers were a whole thing.
Yes, there are exceptions, but we make a big deal of them while ignoring the overall pattern.
Again, it is time to get over Clint/Coulson, Arthur/Eames, and people hallucinating that Hux had a personality in that first movie.
These are rare exceptions, and they're all snark-based at that. Darcy Lewis was also obnoxiously popular based solely on a few lines of snark, but that didn't count because she wasn't the correct and virtuous choice of favorite female character.
(Seriously, you should have seen the whining about all the people horny for Darcy who didn't give a fuck about boring Jane. Sorry, but your blorbo is a snooze and mine has amazing tits in addition to being funny.)
--
Let's go look at what's big on AO3 since it's easy and that's what other lazy statistics compilers do and then base their whining on:
Looking at the M/M tag, here's the sidebar:
Castiel/Dean Winchester (111856)
Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (70823)
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (70134)
Sherlock Holmes/John Watson (67796)
James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (61397)
Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (56548)
Minor or Background Relationship(s) (55109)
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (49179)
Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (46679)
Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (44754)
I'm seeing canons with huge audiences. Teen Wolf and SPN are way more popular in fanfic fandom, relatively speaking, but they're certainly not obscure media.
I'm seeing a lot of leads. Sirius/Remus does stand out a little: they aren't walk-ons, but fanon did elevate them. Same with Draco, but main protagonist/most obvious nemesis is hardly a surprising ship type.
Let's play with exclude filters and see what's next (numbers won't be exact since this is via excluding the previous batches):
Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (43234)
Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (40115)
Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (38398)
Keith/Lance (Voltron) (32757)
Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (32744)
Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester (31834)
Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) (31527)
Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) (31011)
Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (30819)
Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (30133)
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (27403)
Original Male Character/Original Male Character (26854)
Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou (26854)
Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin (26454)
Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov (26453)
Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) (21154)
Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion (20946)
James T. Kirk/Spock (20716)
Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin (20561)
Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (20113)
Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru (20039)
Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio (18806)
Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel (18013)
Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier (17577)
Dan Howell/Phil Lester (17518)
Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager (17404)
Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know (17390)
Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou (17141)
Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact) (17041)
Harry Potter/Severus Snape (16773)
Oh look: more leads.
Sure, there are some little oddities, like the fact that taekook is obviously the worst BTS ship and it is a personal attack on me that it is that popular. But come the fuck on: this is a parade of some of the most famous musicians and most popular anime, shows that had huge audiences and particularly huge audiences of the type that like fanfic.
Let's have a look at f/m:
Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug (33773)
Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (33031)
Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) (29586)
Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren (24192)
Minor or Background Relationship(s) (21606)
James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (21088)
Kylo Ren/Rey (16028)
James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader (15922)
Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (15635)
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (15335)
Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (14552)
Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (14214)
Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin (13616)
Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson (11471)
Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak (11383)
Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan (11272)
Castiel/Dean Winchester (11187)
Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (10529)
Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov (9750)
Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) (9736)
Okay, it is AO3 after all, so some m/m ships have snuck in there, but the general trend is still leads, leads, leads, now with some readerfic. (For James/Lily, you can blame the insanity that is Marauders fandom on TikTok, or so I hear.)
And f/f:
Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor (21520)
Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) (17873)
Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan (16168)
Minor or Background Relationship(s) (13681)
Clarke Griffin/Lexa (12876)
Adora/Catra (She-Ra) (11532)
Amity Blight/Luz Noceda (10880)
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (10532)
Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends) (8925)
Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long (7766)
Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler (7369)
Korra/Asami Sato (7146)
Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair (6720)
Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (6684)
Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught (5764)
Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) (5529)
Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell (5347)
Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein (4895)
Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo (4662)
Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie (4402)
Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan (4284)
Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer (4223)
Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam (3936)
Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova (3876)
Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca (3700)
Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva (3689)
Castiel/Dean Winchester (3664)
Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price (3471)
Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs (3394)
Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee (3324)
Carmilla might be a little obscure compared to some media, and some other ships have snuck in here, but again, we're seeing some fairly prominent canons and the leads or at least main cast who have intense relationships in those canons. If most fantasy tv shows were Once Upon a Time, all of AO3 might be awash in nothing but swanqueen and captainswan.
The big thing that one sees is simply that f/f fandom often revolves around different media, while m/m and f/m are more likely to be into the same stuff that's full, full, full of main dudes getting to do things with one woman who matters.
We do not, in general, elevate anybody.
Not unless some very talented writer leads the way first with a juicy longfic that establishes all the fanon.
We repeat the myth that we do because it suits a certain narrative about how creative and transformative fandom is—and another equally popular narrative about how the lack of ship A/B is a ~conspiracy~ to rob one of one's rightful overflowing feed trough of fic.
It's bullshit.
We write about leads.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago
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Killing Time: Prologue
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.
Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.
You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.
“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.
“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”
You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.
“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”
“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”
“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”
“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”
“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.
“Whatever,” you hang up.
You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.
You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.
And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.
You look at your phone.
‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.
As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.
It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?
The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.
You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.
You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.
You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.
You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.
‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.
Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.
Tap.
You open up the message.
‘Hello,
We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.
New Applicants Welcome.
We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:
Lawn care
General cleaning and maintenance
Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs
24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)
Subsidized relocation
Training on-site
If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.
Applicants are subject to a background check.’
You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.
And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.
You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.
“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”
You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.
“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.
You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.
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iamnmbr3 · 11 months ago
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I find it incredibly creepy how Dumbledore views Riddle as being this sort of inherently seductive 'femme fatale' type. In book 6 he implies that Tom used his looks to endear himself to his teachers when he started school and hide his supposedly inherently evil and corrupt nature.
Like. Albus. DUDE. Tom was ELEVEN. Why would you assume that teachers would be swayed by or even paying attention to the attractiveness of an eleven year old?! WTAF?
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And then he portrays the Hepzibah Smith memory as another example of Tom using his seductive charms for evil. But although he does bring her flowers he doesn't do anything else to encourage her and in fact seems uncomfortable and determined to keep the conversation focused on work.
She is actually the one who is being creepy here given the power differential between them. I mean, yes, Tom is putting up with her because it suits his designs for the moment and could and would kill her in a second if provoked. But even though we know that she certainly doesn't. As far as she knows she's creeping on this young store clerk without wealth or connections whose job depends on keeping her happy.
And certainly while she enjoys his looks and his attention she also seems quite happy with the persona he puts on where he addresses her in a highly respectful manner, not as an equal. She's certainly not complaining about how he calls her Miss Hepzibah or asking him to drop the honorific. She likes that. She likes that he addresses her not much differently than how her House Elf does. She likes his whole "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told" thing. And as far as she knows he is just that, with no particular special power or talent other than his good looks which she evidently appreciates. This is not him leading on and taking advantage of an innocent sweet old lady.
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And yes he brings her flowers, presumably to keep her happy, but other than that he tries to keep the conversation professional and steer the discussion towards the purpose of his visit. He doesn't say anything overtly flirtatious or even try to prolong their discussion by asking to see some of her other things.
She brings that up on her own. Nor is there any indication that he is the one that decided to move their relationship in this direction. It seems more like she saw a young and good looking man, apparently far below her in terms of station and magical power, and made her move. He probably isn't the first.
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The way she casually touches him is just so creepy to me. And though he tolerates it, he did nothing to encourage or solicit it. Riddle is someone who is in general quite averse to touch. We only see him voluntarily touch one person in 7 books and that's when he touches Harry, just for a second in book 4, just to show that he can. I don't think he enjoys this kind of attention. He was probably glad to kill her for more than just the purpose of getting the cup and the locket.
And yet none of her creepiness is acknowledged. Instead, Dumbledore draws our attention to how Riddle cruelly seduced and murdered a nice old lady whose affections he sought and then betrayed:
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reader-wandering18 · 5 months ago
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Yuu Hunter x Hunter
Strange beasts and monsters. Vast riches, hidden treasures. Terrible places, unexplored frontiers. Mysterious and unknown.
People who are drawn to the magic of those words are known as HUNTERS.
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Yuu Freecs, a boy from a vast, cruel and mysterious world, came to Twisted Wonderland.
What was a boy doing at Night Raven College?
Freecs' adventures leave his friends speechless. His kind personality reaches out to all students, including those who are not human.
The first time he arrived at Night Raven College was a moment that surprised everyone at that prestigious institution.
— A child? — Why did the dark mirror bring a child?
— Say your name.
— AMAZING, A TALKING MIRROR!
His surprise and excitement were reflected on his face. The scream he gave let the most observant ones see that he was someone curious and full of energy.
— Another Cheka — Leona sighed tiredly
— What kind of gel use to keep your hair like grass? — Vil commented upon seeing his black hair with green tips. He felt like combing it himself.
If someone young like him was at Night Raven College, it was because he had really powerful magic, right?
Wrong. That child does not contain even a pinch of magic. Many could not believe it and others made fun of him, but the boy did not appear expressionless or scared.
— Magic? JUST LIKE IN THE FAIRY TALES MY AUNT MITO TOLD ME?! I'm really sorry I don't have anything like that big mirror! But I use something very different than magic!
He seemed strangely excited.
— Waaa that boy really has a lot of energy, he's the worst enemy of an introvert like me — Idia had said scared through his tablet.
After that revelation a cat burst into the room. Demanding Yuu's place.
— That cat also talks!
— I'm not a cat!
— Is that so? So you're a magical animal? Mmm I remember Kurapika told me that magical animals can talk. But you don't look like a Kiriko at all.
— What are you talking about kid? I am the great and powerful Grim!
The place caught fire and everyone started running and screaming. Among all the most outstanding was Kalim who got his butt burned. While the other dorm leaders were discussing who should catch the cat, suddenly, that boy appeared in front of them.
— Take it
— Nyaaaaa Let me go!
— !!
The dorm leaders were surprised to see Yuu in front of them when a moment ago he was in the center of the room. And in his hands he held Grim wrapped in Kalim's robe that was previously burning.
Even Kalim looked confused. Yuu appearing behind him, said he would borrow his robe and took it off without any difficulty.
— Sorry, I don't know how to extinguish the fire. Catching it was the only thing I could do.
That year would be very interesting.
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In the dwarf mine, Ace, Deuce, Yuu, and Grim were resting on the outskirts of that place due to the mysterious appearance of an ink monster that forced them to retreat. Ace, Deuce, began to fight when Yuu's scream made them shut up.
— Don't worry!
They both saw how the child stood up with great determination on his face.
— They won't be expelled, I won't allow it. His dream is to study at that school. Right? If we work as a team we can beat him. Also, I can't allow you to disappoint your mother — Yuu said looking at Deuce — it must be very important to you as it is to me to look for my father.
Yuu's innocent smile made both young men leave for some strange reason strongly hit… in their ego. How could I let a child save their skin? That would be extremely humiliating!
In the end, they all returned to school with the magic stone in their hands. Thanks to teamwork.
— Being appointed supervisor at such a young age and just entering is a great achievement!
— Is-Is that so?
— Why do you look so nervous? You seem so confident when we were in the mine.
— It's just that… it's my first time in school
—……WHAT?!
Yuu explained to them how she came from another world and lived on an island called Whale Island. There was only one other child on the entire island but he didn't play with her. She never went to school but studied at home with the help of her aunt Mito.
— Hey, now that I remember. In the mine you mentioned your father, right? — Grim asked
— Or yes, he left me when I was a baby. I'm looking for him.
— Are you looking for him? Your dad left you, why do you want to go look for him?!
At that Yuu stopped which made the two teenagers who were after him do so as well. He turned around and they both noticed that in Yuu's gaze there was nothing like remorse for being abandoned. On the contrary.
There was a great curiosity in his gaze.
— My father is a hunter. I also became one, to look for him and to know the world that he chose instead of taking care of me.
Yuu smile while mentioning his father.
— Hunter?
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— Hello!
— …Hello
Malleus was in Ramshackle taking his usual walk. He appeared in the dormitory as usual, but was surprised by a child who took him completely off guard the moment he appeared.
He had heard from Lilia about the arrival of a human child without magic at the school. Which surprised him. But he didn't expect to see him in the abandoned dormitory.
The child smiles at him
— My name is Yuu, Yuu Freecss! It's a pleasure!
Yuu extended his hand to what Malleus saw without being able to believe what the child was doing. But it was rude not to greet, so he shakes hands with the small human child.
— … Aren't you afraid of me?
— Mmm, It's true that your aura is strong, but I don't feel a level of threat like Hisoka.
— What are you talking about? I don't know that Hisoka… Don't you know who I am?
— No, I'm sorry. — said the boy somewhat embarrassed.
His reaction seemed genuine, there was nothing like malaise or fear. It reminded him in a way of Silver when he was younger.
— Do you live here?
— Yes, along with a cat named Grim
With each answer that Malleus gave him he could see it. That boy seemed to have so much energy.
— I see. It's a pity, I liked to take night walks around here since it's very quiet. But I guess I'll have to look for another place.
— Seriously, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to take away your place to explore!
Yuu shouted while bowing in apology, that causes Malleus to become more curious about the human child.
— It's okay, it's not your fault that you live here. Well, I'll take my leave.
— Wait a moment.
But Malleus had disappeared in a bunch of bright lights.
— Wow, that’s amazing — Yuu said, catching one of those lights in his hands.
— I couldn’t ask him his name.
Malleus appeared in another part of the school. He felt a little dejected that his favorite place was occupied, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t get that kid out of the place. He looked up to see how high the moon was until he remembered.
— Now that I think about it. Lilia said that humans should sleep to have energy the next day, or they will have health problems. But that human child was awake at this time.
While, outside the dormitory, Yuu was practicing his NEN.
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My Hunter x Hunter fever came back!
The first time I saw it I was very young, two or three years younger than the main characters, time has passed and now I'm older than them buuuu 😭.
Gon is my number one main character. With that personality that I met at the beginning of the anime it was love at first sight. I'm sure that if I met Malleus they would be great friends because you know. Gon being Gon.
This anime was my second Shonen and the only one I managed to stay faithful to until today. No matter the years, for me Hunter x Hunter will be the best anime.
YES YOU CAN TOGASHI!
This idea started with a fanfic of the boys' reaction to a Yuu from different worlds, including Hunter x Hunter. I liked it so much that when I wanted to read it again I realized that they had deleted the fanfic :'v that was found on Wattpad. To get that thorn out of my side I had decided to do this. I'm thinking about whether to make more parts or not. In case you noticed, I'm a person with a lot of ideas, but I never manage to finish a story.
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beneathsilverstars · 11 days ago
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what does the party think of loop being a different siffrin. like why theyre here. likee do they think loop is a siffrin who.. succeeded? a siffrin who died?
[context: Dagger Ending AU]
Ooh yes. Here's everyone's theories from the first week or two, and what Loop had to say about them!
They've all discussed their theories together (though with some details omitted when Bonnie's there), and they have varying opinions on each other's, but they mostly stick to arguing their own if just because they have a clandestine bet going on. Maybe a little gauche, but sometimes you need to lighten the mood by acting the same way you do for sillier topics.
Bonnie's theory: Siffrin asked the stars for a friend.
Bonnie's story is inspired by some fairytales they were told when they were younger. Those fairytales were inspired by stories from the forgotten island, so Bonnie's version here actually brings it closer to the originals again! Though of course, with a Vaugardian twist.
Bonnie says: Siffrin was worried about being left alone, so since he really likes the stars for some reason, he asked the stars to be his friend forever. So one of the stars came down to be with him! But obviously a dot of light wouldn't make a very good friend, so they had to Change to be a person — and a dot of light that isn't a person yet wouldn't know how to Change right yet, so they just cheated and copied Siffrin. But it's impossible to Change to be exactly like another person, you can only ever be a new version of yourself, so that's why Loop isn't the exact same as Siffrin.
Bonnie: I know you don't want to explain to us why there's two of you, and why you're not a— you're... more different than people can normally be, but if I tell you my thee-ry, will you at least just say if I'm right? Loop: Hm... Probably not. Loop: But you should tell me anyway! [Bonnie explains their theory.] Loop: Aw! That's a very cute story~ [Loop's smile becomes more forced.] Loop: That is all I am, aren't I? A star friend for pooor little Siffrin, so he doesn't have to be all alone? Bonnie: I knew it!!! Bonnie: Do you miss being a normal star, up in the sky? [Loop takes a deep breath.] Loop: I miss a lot of things. But I asked to be here. Bonnie: Oh! Did you ask for a friend, too? It would make sense for the stars to pick you to send, if you were lonely too. Loop: ... I did! You're very good at this. Bonnie: Of course I am!!! Loop: You know, you should tell your story to stardust. I think they'll like it better than I do. [Bonnie runs off to tell Siffrin about it, and then to tell the other adults that Loop said they were totally right.]
Isabeau's theory: Loop is a sadness made out of Siffrin's self-hatred and loneliness.
There's stories about people finding "their" sadness that mirrors them exactly, including both fiction that uses it as a metaphor for inner battles, and folktales that claim to be true. Isabeau used to not believe the folktales at all, because they vary so wildly, and surely one single person's emotions couldn't be strong enough to make a sadness as sapient as some of the stories claim — no sadnesses are that clever, not even the big powerful ones that are made out of so many people's emotions that they aren't even vaguely human-shaped.
But, now, well... If it is possible, it's hard to find any negative emotions stronger than the reasons someone tried to kill themself. And it's undeniable that Loop seems to be closer to a sadness in physiology than they are to any living creature.
Plus, there could very well be some other factor that pushed Loop into full personhood! Some of the stories include the sadness feeding on its originator until the person wastes away and the sadness takes their place, which is far-fetched, but so is this whole situation. Or, animating a statue kind of involves putting a bit of yourself into it — your craft energy, your intentions — so perhaps Siffrin had put a lot of themself into Loop, in a way that isn't possible with something nonliving. It would explain the craft exhaustion, too, if Siffrin had fueled Loop's becoming in some way or another.
Isabeau: Bonnie said you said they were right. That you're a star sent to be Sif's friend. Loop: I'm sure they did. Isabeau: ... But it's not true, right? [Loop looks away.] Loop: ... I didn't actually tell them it was. I didn't lie to them. Just... parts of it. Isabeau: Parts of it were true? Isabeau: Which parts? Loop: ... What do you think? Isabeau: Well, it would depend on exactly how they worded it, wouldn't it? They keep changing their mind on the details. Loop: What do you think, then? Isabeau: About… Loop: Me. Isabeau: Right. [Isabeau makes a face.] Isabeau: I... don't know that it would do any good to tell you. Loop: Wow, that bad, huh? Now I have to hear it. Isabeau: Just, promise you won't take it the wrong way? [Loop squints at him.] Loop: I'll take it whatever way I want. Isabeau: Alright, fair enough. Alright. But, whether or not my theory is true, that doesn't change how I think about you, okay? You're a person, and you're our friend, and I'm glad you're here with us. Loop: Just get on with it, Fighter. Isabeau: Yeah, yeah, alright. Isabeau: It’s... I think you might be a sadness? [Loop gasps dramatically.] Loop: Ooooh, how could you~? Isabeau: There would definitely have to be more to it. You are a person, and you're stable, Sif's moods don't affect you any more than they do the rest of us. But... you're not human. You don't need to sleep, you can't eat, you're just... not made out of living stuff? But you're not artificial either, you're not an inanimate thing that's been crafted to move. You're alive! And there's only one sort of... being... that I know of, that's alive but not living. And, well... Sif...... Loop: ... They were so very, very sad. Isabeau: Yeah. Loop: Well! It does make sense! Loop: Of course you'd go for the depressing, realistic answer! Loop: You're entirely wrong, of course, but... Loop: I... [Loop looks down at their hands.] [They move their hands up, to grip their arms.] Isabeau: Sorry. I knew you wouldn't like it. I swear it really, really doesn't matter, okay? However you... got here... you're here now, and you're you, and we're glad of it. Loop: ... Isabeau: I'll go see if Bonbon needs any help with dinner.
Mirabelle's theory: Siffrin killed himself, and he both got brought back to life and lived on as a ghost.
To be exact, he successfully(-ish?) committed suicide when he said he was going to go take a nap in the meadow. She thinks it's an earlier attempt rather than the one Odile saw because: Siffrin had originally told Isabeau he wanted to talk again with someone he'd spoken to the day before — which could only have happened earlier in the day, because Siffrin was never left alone later — and while that could be a lie it also explains how Siffrin knew that Loop was at the favor tree at all; Odile mentioned how confident and unflinching he was about it, which could be explained by having done it before; and everyone agrees that the recent changes in Siffrin started, though more subtly, after the nap in particular.
Siffrin not dying from his late afternoon attempt isn't necessarily as much of a factor — Vaugardian ghost lore includes stories of people being haunted by earlier versions of themselves that they’d Changed away from, so there’s precedence for living people having ghosts. Of course this means there are other major Changes besides death (or deciding to die) that can create a ghost, but the other ways Siffrin has changed don't seem quite dramatic enough in the right way to have been the catalyst. In fact, it’s strange than Loop seems to be the more Changed of the two! But perhaps pre-Dormont Siffrin actually was more like Loop and just hid it better, or perhaps Siffrin used to be more like Loop at an earlier point in their life, and had somewhat Changed but not enough to be happy with themself. Either way, any of Loop's traits that post-Dormont Siffrin doesn't seem to share much at all would be parts of themself that pre-Dormont Siffrin "killed".
Mirabelle: Loop... You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... Are you a ghost? Loop: You know, stardust guessed the same thing! And I told them... Well, I don't remember anymore. Something about the Favor Tree being my grave? Loop: Anyway, you could sort of say that! Except, how could I be his ghost when he didn't actually die? You made sure of that. Mirabelle: Well... I thought maybe... Mirabelle: Maybe Siffrin did kill themself? Before that? And you're the parts of Siffrin that they killed, but you stayed because... because you still had things to get done, or Siffrin still needed you, or… or something like that...? Loop: HA! Loop: Yeah, something like that!!! [Loop laughs hysterically for a bit, then suddenly stops.] Loop: ... Go away, Housemaiden. [Mirabelle leaves to fetch Siffrin.] [While she's gone, Loop leaves the camp.] [Siffrin finds them and brings them back several hours later.]
Odile's theory: Siffrin wished for a companion.
The final loop through the house didn't include either of the forgotten language books on wish craft, but it did include discussion of the impossibility of time craft, and the diary where a lonely person wished for a copy of themself. Odile initially dismissed the diary as creative fiction, but it was still fresh on her mind when she met Loop later that day!
During the next couple days in Dormont, she asked Euphrasie about how she crafted Mirabelle's blessing, because she loves cutting-edge craft. The conversation turned to the King's impossible time craft, and Euphrasie said she thinks he probably used wish craft. She explained that she doesn't know much because it's hard to find anything more than brief mentions of it, but she's confident it's real. She's pretty sure you need to do very particular things in order to use it, though — not any old wish will do — and she doesn't know what those things are. But it's probably the only way the King could have gotten the power to stop time, and there's a chance that the people of Vaugarde’s wishes for salvation contributed to his defeat (but she's not sure because who knows if anyone actually wished the right away).
Now, knowing that wish craft could be real… it’s strange to think that Siffrin might know about something basically unheard of. But they did know about the orrery in the house, and caring about stars is basically unheard of, too! And… Loop says they’re a star… and the King has stars on his armor….. And it’s risky to use one guess as evidence for another, but that could be three instances where the shape or knowledge of stars appeared alongside the use or knowledge of wish craft. And Siffrin spoke to Loop at the Favor Tree, and supposedly that’s where they spoke the day before too, and a Favor Tree is a place where you ask for something you want.
Siffrin’s craft exhaustion could be a point for or against; on one hand, making a copy of yourself must be powerful craft, but on the other hand, wish craft was what allowed the King to perform craft so strenuous that it should’ve instantly killed him. Plus, Siffrin’s exhaustion didn’t hit till at least a full day after they went to the Favor Tree alone the first time. So Odile doesn’t know enough to call that factor either way.
And why would Siffrin try to kill themself shortly after their wish came true? Was it just not everything they hoped it would be? Siffrin and Loop fight a lot, but they obviously care for each other a lot, too… But maybe even getting something they really wanted could make a depressed person feel worse, if it doesn't help as much as they hoped it would, and they decide that means they’re hopeless.
Odile decided on this theory by day three. There are other mysteries that aren’t as neatly explained by it, like the ease with which Siffrin navigated the house, but perhaps they’d made a second wish? Or perhaps that was the influence of the Vaugardian wishes that Euphrasie talked about? And over the following weeks, Siffrin’s behavior has only gotten stranger, in worrying, unexplainable ways. Odile is finding many different pieces to an unknown number of puzzles… but she’s fairly certain she’s got a good start on the Loop corner.
Loop: Well, Researcher? Everyone else has told me their theories on what and how and why I am. What's yours? Odile: I was wondering when you’d ask. My best theory is that Siffrin made a wish — for a friend who wouldn’t leave him, or someone who understood what he felt, or something along those lines — and your existence was the answer. Loop: … Loop: Same story as the Kid, huh? Odile: You did say that they got parts of it right. Loop: It just seems a bit unrealistic for you, Researcher~ Stardust wished for a friend and one just fell out of the sky? Odile: Your entire existence is unrealistic, Loop. But if a craft has the power to freeze an entire country in time, surely it also has the power to create life. Or split it, perhaps. Loop: … But the king used time craft. What does that have to do with wish craft? Odile: The Head Housemaiden of Dormont believes wish craft is what gave him the power to stop time. Loop. W- How does she know about wish craft?? Odile: How do you, Loop? Loop: The— It’s— [Odile waits patiently.] Loop: The book! The, the diary, in that room, with the— the thing for the stars. It talked about wish craft. Odile: Ah, of course. The diary of a person who felt lonely and misunderstood, so they used wish craft to make a copy of themself. The diary you’ve never seen, because you… branched off, let’s say, the day before we fought through the House. Loop: Stardust told me about it! Odile: Of course. You know, they remember a surprising amount about the House? It's been several weeks, and you'd think between the traumatic injury the day before and the fevers afterwards, even the average person would consider it all a bit of a blur. But they still remember details that the others have forgotten, about conversations it seemed they were barely paying attention to. Even one or two things that I don't remember at all. [Loop breathes shallowly.] Loop: W— What are you implying? Odile: Nothing in particular. However shaky the wish craft theory seems, I'm even less sure about everything else. Loop: Well, you should be! Because there is nothing else! [Odile sighs.] Odile: I'm sorry, I know you don't want us knowing about these things. You and Siffrin both. But he's... not doing well. [Loop looks away.] Odile: And frankly, I don't think you are, either. But we can't help if we don't know what the problem is! It's your choice not to tell us, but I'm not going to stop trying to figure it out. Loop: It doesn't matter! The other things. He has you now, all four of you. You're helping. They'll be okay. Odile: What about you, Loop? Loop: ... I'm helping too. I'm trying. I'm here to help them. Odile: Loop... [Odile is about to say something, but stops. She takes a deep breath before continuing.] Odile: It would help a great deal if you and he could be more open with us. Loop: ... Odile: Can I take this as confirmation of my theory, at least? Loop: ... Not quite. Odile: But I'm close. [Loop doesn't claim otherwise.]
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sabo-torao · 6 months ago
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Small disclaimer before you head in: this whole post will be referencing the TCB translation. I know VIZ handled the exchange I'm discussing differently, but I couldn't find anyone who talked about the original version and as a result I don't really know who is closer to the original meaning. In any case, the "analysis" should still stand. Whether Dragon was commenting Sabo's firmness or admiring his resolution, Sabo's still putting on a mask, and that's the point I'm trying to break down. Enjoy!
This very specific interaction between Dragon and Sabo in chapter 1083 has always stuck out to me.
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"My, you really are unshakeable."
which is an appropriate response to what Sabo said, of course. What kind of sensitive person reacts that way to the death of an innocent, right?
Even so, I can't help but compare the thing Sabo said to his actual, genuine reaction to King Kobra's death.
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He's devastated.
Sabo brokenly screams Kobra's name, and his expression is one of full despair; he never thought about killing Kobra, let alone letting him die. On the contrary, he actively tried to save him.
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Kobra told him to just let him go, that he was dead weight and he shouldn't be concerned about him, but Sabo straight up refused. In fact, Kobra's actions read way more as a sacrifice than an inevitable death; the king let himself die, knowing that this way Sabo could flee and reach Vivi and Luffy safely.
On the Lulusian ship, we see Sabo think about Kobra's last words to him and actively trying not to cry (and failing).
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That's not an unshakable man. He's suffering, he's grieving. He realizes he failed his very own mission of saving the king and lets the meaning behind Kobra's actions and words sink in.
It really puts his former reaction into perspective.
Sabo's firmness, seriousness and coldness in front of Dragon and Ivankov are nothing but a façade. He acknowledges that what he's about to say might come off as harsh, and that, even if he does feel sorry for Kobra, the tragedy doesn't weigh him down thanks to the results it brought, but it all sounds like he's reassuring himself more than actually showing his indifference.
Hell, he even drinks his glass of wine right after having said that "he doesn't really care". How can anyone take his words seriously?
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And we've been knowing Sabo is inclined to do this sort of thing since Dressrosa; he acted all cool and composed in front of Luffy but the second Koala called him on the Den Den Mushi he was weeping, having a hard time believing that his little brother didn't punch him or hate him for being alive all along. He even denied he was crying!
All because Sabo hates being seen as vulnerable, especially in front of the people he thinks he has to be strong for (Luffy, Dragon, etc). It's something I think goes back to how his parents treated him, since they scolded him for, y'know, having emotions and being a normal kid in need of love, but i digress.
I once saw someone describing Sabo as a very cold person in comparison to his brothers, even going as far as to say that Sabo doesn't care if people die if it means achieving the Revolutionary Army's goals (using this very interaction as proof), which couldn't be further away from the truth.
Bonney even says outright that it's weird seeing a "radical revolutionary" act so friendly when Sabo helps her out. Why would he do this if all he ever did was for "The Cause"?
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Yes, Sabo is ruthless, rude, violent at times, and his friendly demeanor could be seen as a little more volatile than that of his brothers', but he's not heartless. He's not a "meanings to an end" guy, he proves it time and time and time again, and it's disheartening seeing people label him as such.
Sabo is kind. He may not be as warm as Ace and Luffy, but he is fundamentally a good person. A generous, kind, caring, sensitive person.
No matter how hard he tries to hide it.
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stellamarielu · 14 days ago
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show me
john mitchell x female reader
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summary: bloodlust and sexual desire have become one in the same to mitchell making it increasingly difficult to have a normal relationship. so when you find yourself frustrated by the lack of physical intimacy, he figures out a way to solve the problem
content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of death, a little bit of angst, a sprinkle of fluff, a shit ton of dirty talk, mutual masturbation [kinda], basically mitchell just wants to watch you get off, fingering, squirting? [lord forgive me]
authors note: first mitchell fic let’s go!! so, I wanted to start with something more tame for mitchell since it was my first time writing for his character, but i did no such thing. this is just full speed no brakes very smutty so if that’s not your jam just keep scrolling! there is some fluff and a little bit of angst but other than that it's just filth
-
It had been nearly a month since you learned the truth about Mitchell. What started as innocent interactions and flirtatious jokes turned into the two of you regularly going for drinks at the local pub. Before you knew it, your casual little dates led to you joining him and his roommates for movie nights at their home which always ended with you both cuddled up next to each other on the couch. 
Mitchell tried not to let you into his complicated life but failed miserably after the first time he felt that warm fuzzy sensation in his chest when he saw you. You had him wrapped around your finger in a way no one ever had, so much so that he started referring to you as his girlfriend, which of course made George and Annie annoyingly giddy. They absolutely adored you and thought you’d be good for Mitchell, someone to motivate him– to ground him. It all happened so quickly but you couldn’t help it, neither of you could. You were completely infatuated with one another; it was almost sickening. 
But of course, along with the fresh adoration of a new partner also came their baggage. It was something you expected. What you weren’t expecting however, were the skeletons in Mitchell’s closet to be so literal.
He had gone back and forth about telling you the truth and of course Annie had convinced him to be honest with you.
“If your feelings for her are real and you want a genuine relationship you have to tell her Mitchell.” 
He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop the anxiety weighing on his chest at the thought of rejection. It was terrifying. The possibility that you would run screaming kept him putting it off day after day until one night the two of you were having dinner at your apartment and it just kind of stumbled out of his mouth. 
“A Vampire?” 
The words slipped from you in a giggle, your face full of amusement at his confession. You figured he must’ve been trying to make some kind of stupid joke until you noticed his dead serious demeanor.
When he refused to meet your tickled expression with a smile of his own, your brain started running laps around itself trying to piece together the last few weeks of your life. Confusion and fear filled your senses and for a split second it felt like you were sitting across from a complete stranger. Despite your inner dialogue telling you to run, you didn’t leave. You didn’t even get up from your seat. You just sat and waited for him to explain himself further. 
So he did. He told you everything.
It took hours of explanations from him and hesitant stares from you, but after a night of discussing his condition you were sure he was telling the truth, and you were also somehow open to it. 
Mitchell was surprised by how understanding you had been about the whole thing. After the initial shock, the two of you laid on your couch until the sun came up and you interrogated him about his supernatural lifestyle.
he answered every last question. 
You learned about the different cities he’d lived in, the people he had known throughout his long life, who he once was, who he still longed to become. You admired his desire to live differently than the others like him. 
Even after listening to the man next to you give hour’s worth of evidence proving he was a bloodthirsty killer, you still managed to fall asleep in his arms. At the end of the day, it was still Mitchell; Mitchell who mopped floors and made crude jokes, Mitchell who was always there to give you a comforting smile or lighthearted wink when you were having a rough day, Mitchell who you had fallen head over heels for, Mitchell who wanted to be human so badly that he was attempting sobriety from the very thing his body craved most. Nothing could change the way you felt for him and so you held it together when he told you a secret about himself that he was sure would have your relationship unraveling.  
Only he didn’t tell you everything. There was one little detail about his life that he left out that night. He told you about the countless people he killed– about the guilt that ate away at him as he remembered their faces. He even confessed to you that he had given in to his bloodlust not long before you met. All the grim details about his murderous tendencies were true, but he made sure to leave out the part about how he killed them. 
You knew that he drank away their lives, that he consumed their blood until there was nothing left of them. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you that it so often started by seducing a woman- getting her naked in bed, writhing and vulnerable underneath him. He hated that he’d weaponized sex for so long that he could no longer differentiate his longing for blood and his desire for sexual release– the two had become synonymous. It was so bad that anytime he found himself in a heated position with a woman he couldn’t tell if the passion he felt burning in his veins was actual yearning or just a desire to feed. This made his relationship with you extraordinarily difficult. 
You were so handsy. Of course you were. The two of you had been dating for nearly three months and the furthest you’d gone was a clothed second base. 
At first, Mitchell told you he wanted to take things slow, a little odd maybe, but you respected his boundaries and kept the physical touch to a minimum. But time went on, and the restraint you had both practiced began to falter. You started getting little tastes of what it would be like to have his hands on your body and his mouth on your skin it was driving you insane. Every time he kissed you, his lips lingered on yours and there was a certain hint of impatience that always peeked through. You could sense the hunger in the way he would crash his lips on you, his mouth molding to yours and his tongue tracing your bottom lip. Sometimes he would even let his hands find your hips gripping you tightly and pulling you into him as close as possible. Not to mention the little groans that would slip from him when you tugged on his hair. Those little grunts made you want to drop to your knees in front of him and see what other sounds you could pull from his mouth. 
You were constantly reminding yourself to take things slowly, but it was so hard when there was such a strong sexual tension tying the two of you together– or at least you thought there was; but based on the way Mitchell would break your kisses and take his hands off of your body like he just burned them on a stovetop, you were beginning to think maybe he wasn’t craving you in the same way.
Only there was no doubt in his mind that Mitchell wanted to fuck you. He was obsessed with you. He thought about what you looked like naked at least once a day and dreamed about hearing the little whimpers that you’d make when he was finally able to get between your legs. he wanted you, but he was terrified of possibly putting you in danger, so he tried to keep his hands to himself, Just for a little bit. 
At least that’s what he told himself at the beginning. He would work his way up to having sex with you. Like little practice runs, he would let himself give in to the temptation, a make out session here and there, maybe even some heavy petting- but he would always put an end to it before it went any further.
He had to pace himself with you. He needed to be able to control the blood driven part of him that had most of his hookups ending in red stained sheets. You deserved the best part of him. The part that he was convinced was still human. The part that could take his time and indulge in the intimacy of knowing another’s naked body. He knew that part of him still existed- he knew because you brought it out of him. With every touch of your hand to his cheek or the feeling of your sweet lips on his, he felt it. Hell, even when you had your fingers intertwined in his hair, pulling at it while you attacked his neck with kisses, he could feel a deep appreciation for the way you loved him. It was an innocent kind of love. It was pure and gentle and all-consuming and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it by pushing things too far. He wouldn’t ruin this- ruin you. 
But then you were straddling him on his bed. Your legs spread on either side of his hips as he grabbed onto you, guiding your movements as you slid your fully clothed center over his, your lips meshing in a messy kiss.
The house was empty other than the two of you who were now involved in a very heated make out session in his bedroom. His hands were splayed across your thighs, holding them hungrily and his mouth chasing yours. Neither of you were showing any intentions of holding back, so you took it upon yourself to take things a bit further. 
You let your hands fall to the button of his jeans–undiscovered territory that you were determined to explore at the feeling of his obvious arousal beneath you. Just as you were fumbling with the zipper of his jeans, Mitchell broke your kiss and took a hold of your wrist in an abrupt attempt to stop you. 
You looked down at him, trying your best to hide the defeat you felt from yet another rejection. His eyes looked almost remorseful before he averted his gaze downward to where your hands met, he was tracing little circles on your wrist. 
You were out of breath, chest heaving, and thoughts jumbled. You were trying not to read into it, but this whole situation was so confusing to you. Was there something you didn’t know? He seemed to be enjoying himself just moments ago; so why was he stopping? Did he ever intend to have sex with you? 
“Mitchell, are you attracted to me?” The words flew out of your mouth as you leaned back, still sitting on his lap. 
“What?” 
His expression was a mixture of confusion and amusement which only frustrated you further because what on earth did he have to be confused about? 
“Seriously. I get it if you want to take it slow, but It’s been weeks and I’m starting to get scared that you don’t actually want to have sex with me.” 
He was watching as you spoke, a small smile curling on his lips. He couldn’t help it; you were so cute and flustered sitting on top of him talking about how badly you wanted to have sex. How could he not be attracted to you? How could you think something so utterly insane? 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” 
You were questioning him and teasingly shoving at his chest so that his back sunk further into the mattress beneath him. The only response coming from the man laying under you was a low chuckle. 
“Mitchell, talk to me.” Your voice softened.
You were serious now; Mitchell could hear it in your worried tone and see it in the unsure gaze holding his own. 
He sat up with an audible sigh and you took that as a sign things were taking a more serious turn. 
You carefully moved off his lap, opting for a seat next to him and plopping down on the bed. You sat facing him with your legs folded underneath you and your hand gently resting on his thigh. 
Everything about you was inviting his awaiting admission; your body language, the gentle smile encouraging him to go on, the way your eyes fell on him in an already understanding gaze. You were too good for him– too kind. Here you were willing to accept every last part of him and he was getting ready to tell you he uses sex to aid his homicidal affinities. 
“I did want to take things slow- I do.” He started with his eyes glued on you.
”I just, I don’t want to hurt you.” He spoke slowly, still searching your eyes for any changes to your expression.
“And you’ll hurt me if we have sex?” You were trying to clarify and make sense of what Mitchell was saying.
“I used to-“ He began but stopped himself. 
He looked down at your hand on his leg. Your touch so sincere. 
“I used to use sex as a method of getting women alone and vulnerable so I could- you know...”
He was still staring down refusing to look at you as he spoke. He couldn’t stand to watch the inevitable look of fear on your face. 
“It was just so easy. The first time I had sex after I turned, it was such a rush. Everything was intensified; her heart rate, the blood rushing through her veins, how much control I had. I didn’t even realize what I was doing and then she was just...” 
His words were trailing off yet again, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. That he was a manipulative evil monster who prayed on women and got off on killing them.
 It wasn’t true though. That side of him was something else entirely. It was someone he didn’t even recognize when he was with you. 
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your delicate hands cupping his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours. Instead of a look of terror, your face held nothing but forgiveness and warmth. 
“So you’re scared you’re going to kill me if we sleep together?” Your words were point blank as you stared into his eyes. 
“No.” His response was instant, but then quickly followed by a correction, 
“Well maybe. I don’t know, it’s complicated.” 
He paused.
“I never want to hurt you. I know that much.” 
The look in his eyes was so gentle, begging for the forgiveness you’d already given.
“There’s just this part of me that I can’t control, and I’m so scared that I’ll get too caught up and won’t be able to stop myself.”
“Have you ever had sex without-“ 
You began to ask but Mitchell finished your question for you.
“Killing someone?”
He looked away again, unable to come to terms with his own sinful memories.  
“Yeah, but it’s been a long time.” He confessed.
You leaned back on the bed creating a bit more space between your bodies. You had a million thoughts running through your mind but the only one that mattered was the realization of how much Mitchell had come to mean to you in such a short time. Everything felt right with him. You were immersed so deeply in his world that this new piece of information just felt like a little blip on the radar of your lives. You would figure it out together. All of it. 
“Well okay then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing until you feel ready.”
As soon as the words left your mouth his eyes were back on yours. He was giving you the most hopeful smile, it nearly melted you. God- you’d do anything for him. 
“And if you never do, then I’ll just invest in a really good vibrator.”
You were joking to help lighten the mood. You didn’t want Mitchell to feel like you were judging him or disappointed in the new information regarding your sex life. 
Your comment had Mitchell cracking a smile for the first time in last five minutes and the sight of it warmed your heart. You were both just sat there looking at each other with silly little grins plastered on your faces, the dark tension in the room slowly dissipating. 
The silence between you lasted for a few seconds, Mitchell looked as if he was contemplating something before he finally spoke.
“Is that how you’ve been surviving this whole time?” There was a hint of laughter dancing in his words.
“My sweet girl gettin’ so frustrated she has to run home to relieve herself?”
His head was now cocked to the side as he probed you with a follow up question. He was smirking, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. If he couldn’t see the goosebumps on your skin, he sure as hell could hear your heart racing. 
“I’m sorry baby, you shouldn’t have to take care of yourself like that.” 
Mitchell’s voice was low, and he was moving his body closer to yours. He was hovering over you as your back rested against the warmth of his comforter. The sound of your heartbeat was amplified in his ears by the sudden closeness. 
This was new, you thought. 
Mitchell had never been this bold with his words. It was so filthy– so tempting.
“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”
His eyes were heavy and his jaw tense as he awaited your response.
You thought about him every single time you touched yourself, which was more often than you’d like to admit given the current circumstances of your relationship. You had come up with one hundred different scenarios that involved you and Mitchell naked in his bed to aid you in your self-induced pleasure. 
But instead of divulging all of that to him, you just nodded your head in a simple reply to his question. 
“Show me.” His voice was dripping with desire, and you thought his eyes might burn a hole through you with how hard he was staring. 
“Mitchell…” 
You suddenly felt so shy. Just minutes ago, you were grinding down on his lap hungry to unbutton his jeans. Now he was asking to watch you touch yourself and your confidence was wavering. 
“C’mon baby. I wanna see how you get off.” His tone was so sultry, you were nearly slipping your pants off at sound of it.  
“Let me see baby.” He was intertwining his fingers in your hair and pulling you in for another messy kiss. 
“Fuck- I think about it all the time. What it would be like to watch you cum.” His hands were now trailing down your body, his touch was more rough than usual, but you didn’t seem to mind. 
“I touch myself thinkin’ about you too baby.” His gaze was scorching, as he watched you fumbling with your jeans in such hasty desperation to get them off. 
“Always so worked up from not being able to touch you the way I want to. It drives me fuckin’ insane.”
Now he was assisting you; pulling your jeans down your thighs, just as needy to see your body freed from them. 
Mitchell’s hands instantly found the exposed skin of your thighs as soon as your jeans came off. He was basking in the feeling of your warm skin, memorizing the way you felt in his hands as he gripped and kneaded the flesh of your upper leg all the way up to your hips. 
You were pulling him back down in a frenzied kiss when you felt his hands at your sides teasing the material of your underwear. His fingers were hooked in the waistband of your panties, and you found the kiss getting sloppier the closer you got to being half naked on Mitchell’s bed. Your lips were moving in a chaotic harmony when he pulled back to speak again. 
“Is this okay?” 
It was as if he was breaking character for just a second. The dirty words of primal desire were replaced with a tender whisper. The man who was just ripping your jeans from your body was now searching your face for approval before going any further. 
“Mhmm.” You were humming and nodding your head simultaneously placing your hands over his on your hips and helping him peel your underwear from your body. 
“Jesus- fuck.”
Mitchell couldn’t help the profanities that fell from his mouth as you looked up at him with such an innocently sensual gaze while you guided his hands down your legs. You looked so desperate for him.  
You were kicking your panties from your legs and instinctively closing your thighs, partially for the friction but mostly due to the nerves of your sudden vulnerability.
 Mitchell could sense your brief hesitation and wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable. To tell you how fucking hot this was- because it was. He hadn’t had sex in so long he thought he might just cum in his pants from the sight of you like this. 
He kissed you once more, deep and passionate while his hands found their place back on your thighs. He was running his fingers over your skin and grabbing each of your legs slowly pulling them apart as he situated himself between them. Then he broke the kiss and sat back on his knees to get a better view at your body all sprawled out on his sheets. 
“Fuck you’re so perfect.” His voice was close to a groan as he gazed down at your exposed center. He was in a hypnotic state at seeing you spread open all for him, so wet and ready; he was losing his mind.
“I wanna see you baby.” 
His fingertips were tracing your inner thighs, and you almost had to shut your legs again at the sensation; his touch causing you to let out a shaky breath. 
“wanna see how you play with yourself when you think about me.” 
You were closing your eyes and letting your hand trail down your stomach until it reached your core. If it weren’t for the fact that you were so pent up with sexual frustration from all the nights you had to leave Mitchell’s house after make-out sessions that led nowhere, you might have been more embarrassed by how quick you were to oblige with his directions. You were eager to finally get some sort of relief from him, even if it came in the form of his eyes on your body and his foul whispers in your ear. 
Your fingers were circling your clit and the sounds that came from the man above you were utterly carnal. 
“fuckkk.”
In a long, drawn-out groan Mitchell was releasing pent up frustrations of his own while watching your hand between your legs. 
He had envisioned you like this a million times but not one of those images even came close to what he was witnessing right now. He’d intended on trying to keep his composure but as soon as your fingers met your cunt, he couldn’t contain himself. 
“That’s it baby.”
Mitchell swooned, his body practically shaking as he watched you. All he wanted to do was replace your hand with is. He wanted to feel you. Needed to show you that the little scenarios of him you had conjured up in your head weren’t even comparable to the real thing. 
“So pretty for me.”
His words were only pushing you further into the lust filled abyss that threatened to swallow you whole. Your fingers were working faster in tight little circles and moans were forming in your throat and fighting to fall from your lips. 
“Look at me baby.”
You followed his command, looking up at him. He was going back and forth between looking into your eyes and watching the hand between your legs. He felt the familiar simmer of heat in his chest and the buzzing in his head– sensations that often came with his inability to stop himself from indulging in his deepest desires. He was teetering on the edge of losing all control when he found your eyes again, your tender stare bringing him back to reality. 
“Do you wish it was me touchin’ you like that.” He kept talking, hoping it would help tether him to his humanity. 
The low growl of his voice had you feeling brave enough to bring your hand lower, dipping a finger into yourself and whimpering out in pleasure at the thought of it being his touch instead. 
“Bet I could make you feel so good with my fingers- fuck.” 
The second he saw your hand venture lower he could feel his cock swelling in his pants. There was absolutely no way he would be able to keep his hands to himself now. Not while he watched you slipping your delicate little fingers into your cunt- something he had quite literally dreamed of doing for months now. 
“Oh sweet girl I need to touch you.”
You watched as he palmed himself through his jeans, the look on his face was so needy it made you bite down on your lip to muffle the obscene sound that fought its way to your mouth. 
“need to fuckin’ feel ya baby.”
And with that his lips were crashing into yours, your chests touching and moans mixing. You felt his hand on your inner thigh and nearly jumped when it skipped to your soaked core, his finger already pushing into you. 
“So wet for me huh?.” He was gathering your arousal and spreading it at your opening as he easily added a second finger along with the first. 
His head dipped down and his lips came in contact with the nape of your neck and you flinched. 
Your earlier conversation was still fresh in your mind, and you couldn’t help the involuntary recoil. Having Mitchell so worked up and putting his mouth on your neck startled you.  
He halted, every single one of his movements pausing as he drew his head back just enough to lock eyes with you. He had every intention of kissing down your neck, just wanting to envelop you in the feeling of his lips on your sensitive skin. He wasn’t even thinking about sinking his teeth into the flesh there, but once he felt you shrinking away from his touch, he felt awful. Shit did he scare you.
“Hey.”
He was searching your eyes, his expression full of worry. 
“I won’t hurt you.” A flip had switched, and his voice was now soft and reserved. 
“You’re safe.” He was reassuring you and now you felt bad for overreacting. 
You pulled him back to you in an affectionate kiss. 
“I’ve got you, I promise.” With that he was slowly moving his fingers inside you again. His thrusts were gentle, and he kept his eyes on you. He was being so careful, it was endearing. 
He had never felt so in control. It was a strange feeling, to be physically intimate with someone and not have a single hunger driven thought. While he had plenty of unsavory thoughts about you running through his mind, not even one had to do with his thirst for blood. All of them centered around hearing the cute little sounds you were making and watching you cum all over his fingers. 
He could sense your body relaxing under his touch and he watched your eyes flutter closed as his fingers curled into you. He was taking advantage of your comfort and switching to a faster pace. 
You had to squeeze your eyes shut completely as his fingers worked faster and depper. You were doing your best to keep quiet, scared that maybe someone would come home and be able to hear you, but with the way Mitchell was touching you, you finally let go of your worries. A lengthy moan fell from your lips, and had him groaning in response. 
“That’s it baby, don’t hold back.” 
He was encouraging your noises of satisfaction as he brought his lips back to your neck. Only this time, instead of flinching from the sudden attention, you tilted your head to the side to give him better access. You could feel him smirking against your skin. 
He was placing sweet kisses behind your ear while his fingers worked harder sliding in and out of you. His movements were perfectly executed, each thrust of his digits curling into you at the perfect spot and causing whispered profanities to form on your tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it almost shocked you how close he had you to an orgasm already. 
“You feel that baby?” His voice was a mumble against the crook of your neck.
You were whining out a pathetic “yes” as he kept his pace, not holding back. You could feel your release building higher and higher, Mitchell’s fingers getting deeper alongside it. The exposition to your climax felt more intense than you’d ever experienced, and you were reaching for Mitchell’s forearm attempting to steady his movements, but all you were doing was pushing him on further.
“Let it out for me baby.” His voice was shaky, and it sounded as if he was holding back moans of his own.
Hearing him get so aroused by talking you through your pleasure only added to the pressure building in your core. 
“C’mon sweet girl I can feel you. So fuckin’ close.” 
You were writhing below his touch, whimpering and allowing yourself to give into the feeling of Mitchell’s fingers as he deliberately made sure each stroke hit the right spot. The sensation forming in your belly was almost too much to bear. 
Your relief was surging closer to release, like a wave it just kept building and you weren’t sure if you could handle it. And then, with Mitchell pushing into you, whispering little praises into your ear, you were coming undone. The floodgates were opened and your release was crashing over you, intense and all consuming. You were speechless as you felt yourself gushing over Mitchell’s fingers still deep inside you. He was coaxing you through your release, watching as you soaked his hand.
“Mmm look at that baby.” his voice was seeping with lust and he was looking between your bodies in a trance by the mess you were making beneath him. 
“Good girl.” He was growling and slowing the movements as he watched you come down from your high.
You were out of breath and in a state of pure bliss as you stared up at Mitchell. 
“Good fuckin’ girl.” With him looking back at you, you could see the look of pride in his expression, a smug smile on his lips.
“God I’m never gonna be able to get enough of you.” He brought his mouth down to you, locking his lips with yours in a hungrily passionate embrace.
You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the mess on Mitchell’s sheets or the fact that you didn’t think you could form words at the moment. All you wanted was to keep going, to make Mitchell feel just as good as he had made you feel. 
You were pushing yourself onto your elbows and making every effort to find your way to the obvious erection in his jeans. 
As much as Mitchell wanted to spend the entire night fucking you in every way imaginable, he knew it was too risky. Hell, he had almost lost his control before he even laid a finger on you.
While he felt excited by his newfound ability to venture further into this territory with you, he still wanted to take it step by step. He wanted to make sure he could trust himself– that you could trust him. 
“next time.”
He was grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, sealing his promise with a kiss to your palm.
You were pouting, but also inwardly thankful for his guarantee of future sexual escapades. 
“Don’t wanna bite off more than we can chew, yeah?” 
He was grinning to himself and leaning down to place a quick kiss on your forehead before hoping off his bed and searching for a towel. 
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shirefantasies · 1 year ago
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The Hobbits With a F!Human Crush
Definitely not the last of this concept you’ll see from me 😉 Tagging @possibly-in-wonderland along with my usual list @kilibaggins @fuckyoumakeart @lokilover476 | let me know if you wanna join!
Frodo
✧ You serve as a living, breathing symbol of his curiosity, his desire for knowledge and exploration, something new that he wants so badly it all but takes the breath from him.
✧ The way you fall in love with Bag End, unbothered, no, charmed, by the quaint yet elegant hobbit hole as your eyes light up has Frodo’s heart doing somersaults. “You like it?” “Like it? Why, Frodo, you are as lucky as anyone! I wish I lived here!” He’s a bit too shy to say it, but a little voice peeking from the corners of Frodo’s mind says that that could be arranged.
✧ You’ve been places he could only dream of, and he wants to hear every story, enraptured with a hand upon his chin and blue eyes wide at your every word.
✧ Whenever you bend down to whisper in his ear, his entire mind shuts down and a smile creeps across his lips like you’ve never seen before.
✧ Flushes brightly when you pull him protectively against your chest, but enjoys the dangerous race of his heart at your hand upon him more than he would have thought possible.
✧ And when you first kiss him, giving him that gentle but still quite strong tug up into your lips at his confession and tangling your fingers in his dark hair, it's like his chest is about to explode.
Sam
✧ A bit down on yourself thinking someone like you wouldn’t like someone like him, at least not like that.
✧ Regardless, it changes not his kindness and devotion towards you. Despite your size difference, Sam is the one to step forward between you and danger, throwing an arm across from you and not registering or sharing in your amusement until the threat is neutralized.
✧ His heart practically slammed out of his chest when he told you about all the rabbits in the Shire, including one couple he’d seen where the male was with a much larger female. “That’s so cute,” you’d remarked, a hand idly brushing his arm as it lowered, “I love that.” Sam could hardly speak for the next minute or so.
✧ You asked him once if people remind him of flowers or if that's just you, and without even thinking Sam said sunflowers. Not only because of their height, he replies with a blush after you tease him, but the way they bring joy to all who see them and everybody wants them around.
✧ Trips over his words when you focus your gaze down upon him, suddenly feeling warm beneath the intent stare.
✧ And when you take his hand, looking him right in the eyes again as you tell him just how much he means to you, why he snaps completely, pulling up to his full height to connect your lips.
Merry
✧ He takes you, quite frankly, as a challenge- not one given in scorn, but as the rush of the latest charge or act of mischief, the exhilaration of risking oneself for moments of the greatest good.
✧ Bold as he is, Merry isn't afraid to let you know how beautiful he thinks you are, calling you fair and strong and every compliment in the book to cheer you up and bolster your courage.
✧ Attempts to prove himself to you thrill him, too, the way you take him on as an equal to spar and spend your time teaching him. The way you let him overtake you, standing over you with triumph and giving a smirk that runs a shiver down his spine.
✧ He goes to you first for things; in his eyes you can do anything and he trusts you to take his concerns seriously. It could be something small like a question or repair or a a heavier matter like a deep discussion, but whatever it is it will be with you.
✧ Makes up the occasional tall tale about his prowess back home, making himself out to be quite the hero or his home a far more fantastical place. Just to see what you believe. Even though you giggle at his mock-heroic deeds and teasingly debunk his tales, you make it clear in your treatment of him that you do believe he can do anything.
✧ Shock blooms across your face and thrums in your heart at the wince cutting Merry’s face when he accidentally confesses his feelings to you, but it is quickly overtaken by a smile as you cup his face in your hands to return his affection and then some.
Pippin
✧ Nothing can tear him from your side, not a word of concern from others, not a single hardship- when his mind is made up, it is made and that is that.
✧ Enjoys climbing up on things or into trees to get to your eye level, leaning closer while he has the opportunity to all but brush noses.
✧ Makes jokes about you having a longer reach or about "back when you were my size", for he is well aware and comfortable with the height difference. Insurmountable as it could be to you, there is no point in denying it and having some fun with it. After all, as much as he is always trying to assist you, he can use your added height as an excuse to ask for help, too!
✧ Unabashedly checks you out, his eyes sliding to you in nearly any moment of idleness; sometimes they are glances of awe, others pure pleasure at your form.
✧ Tells you again and again all the places he’s going to take you: the Green Dragon, a run through Farmer Maggot’s fields, Sam’s garden if he lets you, all at such insistence that the Shire is the greatest place upon the earth that you cannot help believing him and longing for it almost as much as he.
✧ Knowing that he is lost, he is happy simply to love you no matter what, but few times in your life will you see Pippin’s face as alight as the moment between you returning his feelings and the deep first kiss you share.
Bilbo
✧ Now you, my dear, are an adventure. Nothing he ever planned for, imagined, expected, and yet here you are on his proverbial doorstep. With a gulp and a shy smile he takes you in, eyes sliding upward along your form.
✧ Never has he felt this way before and certainly never with a daughter of men, so you'll find his gaze upon you often, studying you almost.
✧ Definitely tries to wow you with his studies of the different cultures of men- with varying success depending on from which region you hail. You cannot help but be charmed at all of Bilbo’s attempts to make you feel at home even in the middle of nowhere.
✧ You will feel like you’ve seen Bag End and met all of Bilbo’s ridiculous relatives with all the stories he shares both silly and beautiful. “I can see why you wish to return,” you tell him, to which he just beams up at you, a new shine in his eyes.
✧ Gets flustered at the ways in which you move to his level, leaning slinkily against a large rock or down further still upon a log to look up at him and meet his gaze with a smile.
✧ All he asks is if you have any interest in settling down, but you cannot help risking things at the sight of Bilbo’s nerves, tentatively answering that you’d love to settle in the Shire and feeling your heart soar at his grin of relief. Unusual, certainly, but then again that is perfect for Bilbo Baggins, is it not?
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