#and I've got a few clips to share

[moon-and-stars-selfship]

ALRIGHT EVERYONE BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES, FORECAST SAYS THERE'S A GAY WARNING IN THE AREA UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE AND I'M ABOUT TO DROP SOME GAY CONTENT.

[royalarchivist]

Tubbo: [Singing] I miss my Minecraft Egg so much. I am building because wtf am I supposed to do for the rest of my days? Because my Minecraft Egg's a coma and not awake. I miss my Minecraft Egg so much because what am I supposed to do with all this time? It's- making me blue. I wish my Minecraft Egg would wake the fck up! [Takes damage] Ow.

It's just a hunch, but I think Tubbo might be missing Sunny guys.

[whirlybirbs]

— BRUISED EGO ; PART TWO ; TOSHINORI YAGI ; 俊典

summary: he should have waited for you. but no, toshinori felt like he had something to prove. now, roles are reversed and he needs your help. pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho word count: 5k tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (male receiving), piv, sex pollen trope but make it canon specific, dirty talk, praise kink, denied feelings, deeply needy fucking, size difference, toshinori being a good old fashioned lover-boy (again), enemies-to-coworkers-to-lovers hits hard a/n: oh wow a part two,,, i'm sick in the head ← previous | the tag

This ain't great.

This is, uh, bad actually.

Like, Toshinori has absolutely no idea what to do, bad. 

For Christ's sake, he's All Might. He should have known better. He should have known to wait for you — but no, he just had to calm his nerves by beginning your usual shared patrol an hour early. 

It's been one week, two days, six hours, and thirty-seven minutes since he last saw you. Not that he's counting. It's not like he's suddenly acutely aware of the time he's spent apart from you, or anything. 

Japan is locked in a heatwave. 

(Or, maybe it's just the fever in his bones.)

Large, calloused palms dig into his eyes as he leans back against the rooftop's barrier and groans. Toshinori drops his head against the iron railing in defeat, sending a twang through the hot air. Sweat is running down his back beneath his suit, tracing the curve of his spine.

Oh, and he's hard.

Painfully hard.

Like he said, this ain't great.

The call went out that they spotted the same love quirk user from last week holding some sex workers at gunpoint. He should have waited. The two of you could have handled him easily. 

But, no. Toshi had to go and think he had something to prove. 

He groans again, pounding his knuckles to the gravel.

It's going to be all over the evening news. That clip of him, panicking, and absolutely decking the very-much-not-a-real-violent-threat-of-a-man in the face on reflex after being hit with his quirk. He couldn't help it. It was like... a knee-jerk. It's like suddenly you're being touched everywhere and nowhere. It's strange. Sort of violating. It... I-It was just all he could do, okay? 

And he apologized! Plenty! A-And Officer Tsukauchi said it was fine, that he had it handled, as a bunch of officers began to help the now-unconscious offender out of the storefront's debris.

...Toshinori's phone is ringing.

He has half the mind to ignore it.

But it's the guitar riff from 'Bad to the Bone'. 

It's you.

He barks out a huffed 'shit' before digging his phone from the pocket in his belt. Even your picture glowing alongside the phone call notification is enough to make his cock throb. 

It's not even racy. It's blurry. It's in the All Might Agency's lobby. You're smiling. It's such a rare sight. You're holding up your official hero license and a big thumbs up.

He took the picture a few years ago. It was a big deal, a huge win. Your hair was a little shorter, and your hands weren't as scarred from Pro-Hero work as they are now. And god, that smile. 

...Jesus, you're just happy and he's this horny? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Toshinori picks up on the last ring.

"Where the hell are you?" comes your voice, cutting through the sound of wind — he can hear the thrum of your bike's engine in the background, "I've been looking all over for you, and I just got a call from Tsukauchi — are you alright?"

The sound of your voice is making his mouth dry.

"I'm fine."

He's not fine.

He's sitting here, aroused out of his mind and in pain, trying to battle through the mind-numbing, knuckle-breaking heat of desire. He can't even come close to the word 'fine'. He's a mess. All he can do is sit here and sweat because he knows no amount of trying to jerk off is going to solve this problem.

He's so not fine.

You can tell.

Tsukauchi gave few details — just that whatever the hell happened sent All Might hightailing it outta there. And, after getting a brief description of the prep, you had a pretty good idea why. 

Your fingers twitch against the throttle.

"Send me your location," you say sternly; the glint of your helmet's visor catches the passing lights of traffic as you talk into the built-in comms system, "I'm coming to get you."

"No," he grits out, tugging on a piece of his blonde fringe, "N-No. I'll be fine. I-I am fine. Just need some time—"

"Toshinori," you bark back as you check for an opening between cars; your whole body is hot and it's not just from the summer heat, "I'm not asking. Let me help." 

...Oh.

Help. Right.

It's ambiguous and sort of ominous but, if he squints, it's the first time either of you has even come close to talking about what happened last week. Y'know. When he kissed you in your entryway, the way he ate you out on your couch, or the way he absolutely fucked your brains out in your bed. All because you had been hit with the same quirk influence he's riding out now.

His location pings up on your visor's HUD. 

"Be there in five."

And you hang up.

Because — I mean, what else is there to say? You are going to do what you have to to help him. Just like he did for you. Then, maybe it will be even! And then, maybe, this feeling that has been eating your heart away for the last week will disappear. Right? And things will go back to normal!

...Right?

Ha! B-Because, yea, that feeling is definitely guilt, right? Like... You... uh. You feel bad. Because... he had to... help. And you haven't helped him. Right. Yes. 

Yep.

Not because you can't stop thinking about his hands on your face, cradling you tenderly as he drove himself deep into you. Not because you can't stop thinking about the way he looked up at you with his tongue flat on your clit. Not because you can't stop thinking about his voice, or his smile, or his laugh, or his—

The telltale roar of a motorcycle sets Toshinori Yagi's stomach ablaze. 

Immediately, the air gets thicker like the feeling before a summer thunderstorm. He knows you're here. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and before he can rub the feeling away, you're there. 

On the roof.

"You look..." you breathe out as your feet touch down with a crackle of lightning crescendoing around you, "Like shit." 

(Truly he looks divine. Rosey cheeks, his chest heaving. His eyes are half-lidded. There's a bead of sweat that runs down his jaw, down down down, down his neck, then disappears beneath the collar of his suit.)

Toshi sighs. It's a ragged sound. He pulls his knees up, trying his best to hide the apparent tenting across the front of his hero costume. He scrapes his rough palm down his face.

"Don't start—"

"Did I look this bad?" you ask, voice hiking an octave as you move towards him. You keep an even distance. Your face is morphed into a look of pity, but there's something in your voice that makes the knot in Toshinori's gut wind tighter, "He got you good, huh, Tosh'?"

He can't do nicknames right now.

"Ha, ha," he grits out, the trademarked All Might boisterousness dying in favor of the lackluster, dry humor he was born with, "You're real funny, zippy."

It's your favorite flavor of him. The man is out of the limelight. Though he may still be bigger than life biceps and thick steel-corded quads, the facade has fallen. 

"And you're a mess," you sigh as you squat down, rummaging in your pack for something. It's a water bottle. You offer it as you watch him. 

The condensation kisses his fingertips as he takes it and pops it open. 

He takes a long drink, caps it off, then presses the cold bottle to the back of his neck. It does little to dissipate the tension in his broad shoulders. The sensation arguably makes it worse. Another bead of sweat runs down his back.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

We're never gonna talk about this again echoes somewhere in the back of his mind. At this rate, they're gonna have to talk about this. Because once is just a fluke. Twice is a problem. A real problem. 

He places the bottle back on the ground after another long sip.

Your heart is hammering in your chest. Despite your desperate attempt to remain levelheaded, you know exactly how he's feeling at this moment. You gotta admit, his self-control dwarfs your own though. You could hardly keep your hands off him the second he walked in your door. 

You wrestle your bike helmet off, and Toshinori has to quell the wave of longing that rises in his chest. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and neck. He suddenly wishes he made you look this way — windswept and sweating. 

The jet-black helmet lands on the rooftop with a thwat. He can see his ragged, flushed reflection in the black visor. 

Your voice is soft. "Hey."

It brings his focus back to you. His mouth is dry. Big blue eyes swivel as they rake across your face — and he hates how his cock jumps at how softly you speak next.

"What do you need right now, Toshinori?"

His chest is rising and falling a little faster. The usual steadfast expression on his face has melted into something doe-eyed and boyish. It makes your heart clench. 

"Are you sure about this?" his voice cracks as he swallows roughly. It's a non-answer. It's a metaphorical boot-kicking-in-the-door, though. Toshinori rakes his hands through his hair, "I-I... I can wait it out—"

You exhale tightly; your rationale is clear. Totally unbiased and very much not rooted in an unabashed obsession with the way he touches you. 

"Tosh', you helped me. I won't sit around and let you suffer when the same hand is dealt your way."

He drops his head back again. Another twang echoes through the night air. 

"Plus," you offer with a slow, crooning smile, "I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."

It takes a second.

Then, one blue eye cracks open. Long, dark blonde lashes flutter a bit — and then, he's smirking. 

Ha. 

Right.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his head still dropped back and shoulders slumped. 

"Sure as I'll ever be, big man."

That's the only permission he needs.

Toshinori Yagi is fast. He has to be. He's the Number One Hero in all of Japan. Top of the popularity ranks, fan-favorite, best stats in history. Being fast is part of the gig. 

He's fast to sit up and catch you in a kiss that feels like a bruise — tender and aching and miscalculated. It's teeth and tongue and then a deliciously low noise that rumbles up from his chest and sets your whole body on fire. 

His grip is rough — his fingers fist your hair as he drags you closer, his mouth presses firmly to yours as you scramble against the rough rooftop. It's... 

Needy.

You're crawling towards him.

"That's my line," he breathes out, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and pressing back in to steal your breath. His grip tightens in your hair. His voice is so low that it feels like someone lights a fire under your skin. It's rough and breathless and so not All Might.  

"It's a good line," you mutter back as your brain stutter-steps. You pull away to crawl closer and straddle his hips. Your knees pin his cape to the gravel. You're kissing him again, letting his feverish need set the pace, "Worked on me."

You can feel him through your hero suit. 

His suit's pants are thick, made of some patented material you can never remember the name of — but his arousal is more than apparent as you settle your weight down against him. The added pressure earns a throaty hum of approval. 

You always forget just how big he is in this form — his hands dwarf your hips as he drags his grip down, allowing himself a little bit of an edge when he unceremoniously bucks up against you. 

"Sorry," he slurs out, his boots scraping against the roof; it's utterly pathetic, "Sorry—"

"Stop apologizing," you breathe out as you follow his lead and continue the movement, grinding your hips down, "I asked what you needed—"

"Anything," Toshinori's words rush out with his blue eyes screwed closed tightly as he grips your hips and slots his mouth back against yours, "Anything you'll give me."

...How is he so romantic? Even in a moment like this? Even when he's blindly seeking friction through his pants, bucking his hips against your own, as he moans into your mouth. 

"Hands? Mouth?" you parrot his line of questioning from your previous encounter; it seems to knock some sense into him.

His breath catches. Blue eyes widen minutely. You feel him twitch beneath you.

"God, mouth, please—"

Who would have ever anticipated you'd be here? 

Who would have ever anticipated you'd be helping him work off his belt, work off his tactical pants? Who knew you'd be watching his taut stomach flex as you push his costume's top higher up his torso, who knew you'd be dragging his stupid All Might-themed boxers down his narrow hips to spring him free? 

Who thought you'd ever see him like this, so desperate and winded and needy? 

Not you, that's for sure. You never thought, in all those years you sat in prison, this would be your life shortly after: giving head — happily — to the man who put you there in the first place. 

And here you are, slipping him a tentative look as you wrap a gloved hand around his hardness and smirk. 

"Is this okay?" you murmur up at him, on your hands and knees. You're teasing him. He knows this. 

Toshinori laughs — an incredulous bark. It's all you need to hear as confirmation. 

The sound splinters into a choked moan when you bend down and take him into your mouth.

He sees stars.

This is going to be a problem.

All he can do is lean back and grip the guard rail over his head for dear life because ho-oly shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. His biceps go taut, his knuckles white, and he tries so hard to keep his hips still as you hum around him. His whole body shudders — his thighs tensing under your other hand as you balance above him. 

This is — son of a bitch. Your grip around the base of his cock tightens incrementally, and as you lap at the head of his cock, his thoughts die in a strangled burst of pleasure. 

Then, his hand lands on your cheek.

The touch is reverent. Holy. Tender and adoring.

"Jesus, Der'," he slurs out, his chest heaving up and down as he tries to keep his eyes on you; he can't stare too long. The sight is too much. Too pretty. Mouth full of him, "You're such a good girl." 

There it is. 

The little bit of praise he slipped you before. 

If the iron rail creeks beneath his tightening grip, neither of you pays it any mind. 

You're on your knees, gloved hand around his shaft, watching his face contort into something so wonderfully steeped in bliss. You've got more important things to mind rather than the structural integrity of some stupid rooftop rail. 

Like the way his stomach clenches — the way his abs tighten. Like the way he says your name or the way he chokes out a nervous laugh when you take him just a litttttle deeper. 

"Fucking shit," he hisses; you make a mental note to rib him for his language some other time. Hearing him curse like this is a hell of an indicator for your ego that you're doing a good job, "Der', if you keep that up—"

"What?" you rasp, spit connecting your mouth to his cock, "You'll cum?"

Something snaps. 

It's a flash of red and blue and silver and blonde, his cape tearing through the air. 

Suddenly, you're pinned to the rooftop — gravel scrapes as your boots kick and grapple for purchase. Your elbows scuff against the ground. The wind is swept out of your body and he's kissing you so roughly you swear you taste blood. One of his hands is locked around your jaw. You're effectively trapped. 

All you can do is let out a shaky, startled, yet painfully aroused laugh. 

His other hand isn't gentle — it's tearing at the bottom half of your suit, unceremoniously snapping the button of your tactical pants open and shoving his hand down the front of them. You can feel a slight shake in his fingers as they delve past your underwear and slip into your folds.

"I need you," he hisses; his eyes are dark, and you can see the edge of frustration building. You know the feeling. 

Another kiss.

Suddenly, there are two fingers in you. 

You whine against his mouth.

He doesn't waste any time. He can't. Not when all he can think about is splitting you open on his cock. You're right here and you're soft and beautiful and fuck, he can't even think straight when you clamp down on his middle and ring finger. 

"Be nice," you warn between pants and whines and whimpers. It's an empty threat.

"Or what?" he chirps back, working his fingers in and out; his voice hitches along the syllables, trying his best to sound unaffected by the little breathy sound you let out when he kisses your jaw, "You'll cum?"

It's your turn to laugh. Your hands grapple with his cape, trying to anchor yourself in any way possible. You fist it as his fingers continue the task at hand: opening you up enough to take him. His knees nudge your legs open a little bit farther. Toshinori's body feels like it's on fire. 

His heavy, hot cock drags up the inside of your thigh and he shudders. 

His face is pressed to your shoulder in a flash; it's good because he doesn't see the blissful smile working its way across your face as our own arousal builds. 

"You're soaking wet," he strangles out; his pride is overshadowed by the embarrassing need to have you. He feels like if he doesn't, this raging fever will just get worse and worse and worse. 

"Par for the course," your words hitch on a hot wave of arousal as his palm grinds down against your clit. You grip his wrist, trying to ignore the tell-tale shake in your legs. His hand is holding your face.

"At least I'm doin' something right," he whispers, his breath hot against your cheek as he relinquishes his fingers from your heat and drags your mouth across your jaw, "Y'think... Think you can...?"

Take him? Yea.

You're a brave girl. 

Yea, that shouldn't be a problem. 

What is a problem is your riding gear and hero suit — but Toshinori can't be bothered. He's grappling with them for you, hauling you into his arms as he drags them down enough. They get caught on the tops of your boots, but he doesn't give a shit. Not when you're here, spread, and glistening before him. Not when you're in his lap, half-dressed, and trying to maneuver yourself down onto him with some semblance of grace. 

Everything is bigger when it comes to Mr. Double Detriot Smash.

Again, you're a brave girl. You're not going to shy away from the upgraded dicking down you got last week. Hell, that was great. Filled you up perfectly, and hit all the right spots... and now, you're realizing that the already tight fit is going tobe a littttle tighter. 

Your knees are like jello as your fingertips dig into his shoulders. Your hair is wild — and you're sweating. He's no better off; there's a crease of worry in his brow, even amidst the blinding heat of desire that's eating him up inside. 

He knows he's big. He's huge. He's... 

This is the first time he's ever had sex in this empowered form. 

Not like he advertises this as a service.

He'd be lying through his trademarked smile if he said he wasn't nervous — but there you go, giving him just another reason why he should buy a ring tomorrow and give you everything you've ever wanted because fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you're so tight and hot and wet and the sound you make the second you sink down on him—

"God, yes, Tosh'."

The gasp that wrings itself from his mouth is utterly pathetic. He doesn't care. He truly can't even think straight — all he can do is dig his fingertips into your hips and slam his mouth against yours to muffle the whines crawling up his throat. 

"Stay right there," you whisper; there's an edge to your voice of warning. He's trying to listen. He's trying to be a—

"Good boy."

You're holding his face and he can't seem to catch his breath. His boots scuff in the dirt, his brows knit, and he inhales sharply when you clamp down on him for good measure. Fuck. Shit. God, nonono. He needs to move. He needs — c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, please.

"Der'—"

You're kissing him again — and then you move. Slow at first, a little hiccup of your hips. Then, more assured, more confident. An easy up, then down. Then again, and again, and again. And again. 

"God, yes," he nearly cries; he smothers his desperate moan into a kiss that melts away time. Toshinori's hands are trying to find purchase, trying to help guide you up and down his cock as best he can. He doesn't want you to do all the work — he wants to help, "You're so fucking good, Der'."

"Y-Yea?" you breathe out, your entire body shuddering at the praise. Your hip tightens, and you don't even have the wherewithal to consider the cramp. You're not stopping for anything.

Not when this is, like, the hottest thing you've ever done. 

"You have no idea," he melts into another kiss that's all tongue and adoration, his bare thread composure snapping up like his hips in a testing manner, "Lemme fuck you, please, Der', please, please, I promise I'll be good—"

It certainly felt good.

All you can do is hold onto his shoulders. 

If you've learned one thing in the time you've known Toshinori Yagi, it's that he's a man of his word. He holds promises in the deepest homes of his heart, ensuring that nothing prevents him from honoring them. He's dedicated entirely to those around him and to seeing them prevail. Toshinori, even on his worst days, never makes a promise he can't keep. 

So, promising he'll be good?

I mean — it depends on the definition, doesn't it?

If 'good' is desperate, pathetic, fast drillings of his hips as you cling to him and gasp? If 'good' is filthy, muttered praise into your collarbone as he slams into you again, and again, and again?

If 'good' is scrambling in the gravel, being pressed flat as he takes you from behind?

Then, yea.

He's really good.

He's incredibly good — especially as he presses his chest to your back, and wraps his arm around your front. His fingers are greedily pushing through your folds as he keeps up his thoroughly rough pace. The thick, calloused pads of his ring and middle finger grace your clit and you nearly scream. 

The gravel is biting into your knees and palms but you don't care. Not when his mouth is on your neck and he keeps saying your name over and over and over and over again as he drives you into the ground. Not Derecho. Not some tender version of a nickname.

Your name. 

The hot fire of your arousal is building steadily — the wet, explicit sounds of him pushing his cock into you over and over again as he pins you are doing plenty, but it's the way he says your name that really seals your fate. 

Toshinori isn't here right now. Come back in two business days. He's lost in the bone-deep influence of this quirk, hellbent on filling you up and proving he's a good boy. He can give you everything. A ring, a house, a life — three more motorbikes and whatever you want on top of that. 

Fuck, he loves you.

Your fingers dig into the rooftop. 

"Oh, fuck, Toshi — yes," you cry; there's a crack in your voice, "Right there. K-Keep... Keep doing that—"

"C'mon, I wanna f-feel you cum," he babbles as you bury your face into his elbow bracing his weight, "Come on, Der', you're such a good girl, you're taking me so well, I know you c-can—"

Everything is Toshinori. His breath is hot against your neck as he pants, and his voice — so low and honeyed — is right in your ear as he moans.

Even now, he's ever so selfless.

"I need you to cum first," he grits as his fingers work your clit just a little faster, "C'mon, Der', you're doing so good — you deserve it, you deserve to cum so hard—"

Your knees jerk — and the world's best orgasm rushes up to meet you headfirst. A snap of lightning ignites your skin as you lose all control, and so suddenly Toshinori is right behind you, tumbling down the white-hot bliss of the best sex he's ever had in his life. 

He made you snap, he made you lose control, h-he made you cum—

His composure shatters. There's a guttural sound wrenched from deep in his chest and it's delicious. He finishes with a series of frantic thrusts that make you whine. His mouth is on your neck, your cheek, then your mouth. 

You crane yourself back, humming delightfully into the kiss that quells the rolling tide of desire into something softer. 

His whole body shudders as the after-quakes of your orgasm ripple along him. All Toshi can do is smother his sounds into another kiss. This one is slower. It's needy in a different way. 

When the kiss finally slows, it takes a second for him to peel his eyes open.

You look thoroughly wrecked. 

Your expression is that of a woman exhausted. 

Toshinori is suddenly aware of his own bulk, his own weight. Gently, he presses a hand to your cheek as he pushes himself up and off of you. His muscles burn — and pulling out of you makes his entire chest ache. 

The feeling wrings a gasp out of you. 

You exhale slowly, through pursed lips. Then, you brace yourself up on your elbows and hang your head. Toshinori flops gracelessly onto his back, his arms and legs spread with his half-hard cock sloped against his stomach. Your slick is coating him. His pants are half down around his ankles, and his usual up-right bangs have sagged. From heat or exhaustion, you're not sure. 

It sure as hell is cute. 

"You okay?" you ask after a second, taking him in as he begins to catch his breath. 

"Oh, yea, just peachy," he rumbles. The thousand-yard stare into the evening air is a hell of a thing on him. 

It makes you bark out a laugh.

Toshinori lolls his head to the side lazily, taking you in.

Your knees and elbows are bleeding. You're picking out the gravel stuck to your palms. You're in no better of a state — your pants are half on, wrenched down over your riding boots, and your uniform's top is pushed up over your breasts. His orgasm is leaking out of you, and the insides of your thighs are coated with your own arousal. Your hair is a mess. 

You're both messes.

You laugh again — and his own laugh starts shortly thereafter. Before you two know it, you're both locked in a laughing match that only ends when you try to reach to shove his shoulder. Your abs burn. Toshinori tries to muscle the grin off his face but fails.

Fuck. 

Fuck, that feeling hasn't gone away. 

It wasn't guilt.

Mayday, mayday, abort, abort, it wasn't guilt. He's smiling at you in the moonlight, looking so utterly wrecked and handsome and gentle—

His hand moves, a single crux finger gracing the curve of your arm soothingly. It's slow. Tentative. Hesitant. Not too much, not too little. 

Toshinori's voice is rough with sheepishness.

"Are we, uh, are we never gonna talk about this, too?" he asks. 

The touch and the question make your heart kick into a stutter. 

You swallow roughly.

"I..." you drop your head, as you wet your lips; play it cool, "Is it something you... want to talk about?"

"...Do you?"

A non-answer.

Your lashes flutter as your stare widens. You open your mouth, about to say something, but suddenly both of your phones are blaring with a city-wide alert. 

It takes a second for it to register — and as suddenly as the moment came, it went. 

ALERT, ALERT, ALL PROS REPORT TO CITY HALL, MULTIPLE HOSTAGES, ARMED GUNMAN, ALL PROS REPORT TO CITY HALL, ALERT, ALERT!  

You're struggling to haul your pants up as All Might fumbles with his belt. You hop on one foot, cursing as he scrambles for his phone in the gravel.

"You gotta be kidding me," he grits quietly, thumbing through the notification as you struggle in the middle distance behind him, tripping into your pack as you try and button your pants. 

"Time to go?" you ask pathetically as you try to ignore the feel of after-sex between your legs. 

"I guess that conversation is going to have to wait until later," he says apologetically, bending to grab your helmet. He offers it as you shrug on your pack; there's a sudden cocky confidence seeping back into his posture, "So let's make this quick, shall we?"

You swallow down a rush of worship. 

"I guess so," you remark easily, again trying your best to seem cool. That's your whole persona after all. Little miss spiteful, cold, rough-around-the-edges...

Beautiful, perfect, lovely, Toshi muses as you shove your helmet on and jut your chin his way. You flick your eyes toward the edge of the building.

He's already got a running start. 

"After you, All Might."

"Race you there, Derecho." 

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 2 - Broken

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

I'm sorry, part 2 got a little out of hand in length so I've decided to split it up into different chapters! There should only be one more part after this (maybe??!) Hope you enjoy! This is more of Bucky's POV and gives some more insight into what happened. Thanks for all your engagement with this series, as always comments and reblogs are appreciated! Unfortunately I no longer use taglists.

💔

Your phone sat on Bucky’s desk as he stared at it blankly. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, maybe that you’d call it, or it would magically reveal some sort of answers to the many questions he had. But it didn’t. It just laid there, about as useful as a rock. A ‘babe, how are you?! we need to hang out soon!’ notification from Natasha had lit up the screen an hour or so before, but otherwise it just continued to sit silently – an insulting prompt that mocked him with your absence, the clock on the screen taunting him with how late it had become.

He'd had a glance at the checking and credit card accounts he’d set up for you, but they hadn’t been touched. In fact, nothing had been touched. None of your clothes had moved, your toiletries remained in the bathroom. You hadn’t even appeared to have taken any shoes with you. Natasha’s casual check-in text suggested your friends were unaware of what had happened. You’d just…vanished. A ghost in the night.

He felt nauseous, his gut churning. He’d tried to find the CCTV footage of you leaving, but the image was grainy – he could hardly make you out. The cameras had been acting up lately, he needed Steve to get them fixed. He kept thinking about you wandering out into the night by yourself, no money, no plan, how he’d forced you out into the cold. The one person he swore to protect, to keep safe.

His guilt was eating him alive.

But then he thought of the recording. Your voice so clear, laughing with the fed – mocking Bucky, calling him names and sneering at his gullibility. He could hardly believe it all at first. Not you? Not his doll, who had opened him up to love in ways he could have never imagined. Surely it couldn’t have been you, who had uprooted his life for the better, who had hit him like a whirlwind, changing his very being forever in all the best ways?

But he’d checked in with Banner who ran the tech and had confirmed you had been there. Your phone had pinged the cell tower in that exact spot they’d tracked the meeting point to. They’d even found a CCTV clip of you getting in a strange car that day, despite telling Bucky you were having Wanda over for a girl’s night. The audio was delivered by his own men, verified by their informant. The evidence was overwhelming.

‘It was so easy’ you had giggled cruelly on the clip, the words burned into his memory, ‘I just fluttered my eyelashes a few times and he was asking me to move in after a few weeks. I barely lifted a finger yet he swallowed everything I gave him and asked for more. Now I know how his whole operation works…but I need more time on the Stark deal. Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything after a few more ‘I love yous’ and dirty fucks. I promise...’

Of course he’d seen red. How could he not? He’d always been hot-tempered (passionate, his mother used to say), and the recording had destroyed his entire world in a matter of seconds. Aside from the betrayal, the pain, he felt humiliated. He’d finally been vulnerable with someone, shared intimacy in ways he’d never experienced with another person – only to find out it was all a lie. A trick. A joke. It affirmed his biggest fear – that he had been correct to build those walls, to protect himself from anyone who would use his feelings against him. Love could be exploited as a weakness, and he’d turned up to the fight unarmed.

In his mind, he’d not thrown you out – not sweet, beautiful you. Not you who held him close in your sleep and nuzzled into his chest, not you who traced his scars with her fingers and encouraged him to take off his prosthetic when you were intimate if he wished to. Not you, who stayed up late on his birthday just to present him with a homemade cake when he came home after an exhausting meeting – insisting he blew out the candles. Did she ever even exist? He’d always joked you were too good to be true. Now he’d accidentally manifested that into reality.

No. He’d thrown out her. The woman who had been gathering intel on him since the moment the two of you had met. The woman who exchanged kisses for information. The woman who had laughed about all of this as she gleefully ratted on him, delighting in her prowess over the foolish, lovesick mob boss she’d so easily toppled. The woman who’d callously worn the mask of someone who loved him. She was thrown out of his house, out of his embrace.

Unfortunately, the two versions of you were one and the same.

But at least he knew better, now. He’d go back to casual sex and pretty girls hanging off his arm. Easy. Fun. Uncomplicated. The walls would go back up and they wouldn’t come down again. Deep down he’d always known that men like him weren’t meant to be loved, that they weren’t worthy of genuine affection. Not all voids could be filled. People like you, or at least who he thought you were, were not for him. They deserved better. You’d always deserved better. He’d had a brief taste of happiness, but that was all he deserved. The universe would continue to punish him for his many bad deeds.

The only thing left to do was finally go to bed, but a solemn knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He could tell it was Steve. 

“Steve?” he called, checking his watch. It was late, he’d assumed his second in command had already gone home.

Steve entered looking sullen. He was tensely holding his phone, and someone appeared to be on FaceTime with him. He cautiously extended it to his long-time friend.

“I’m sorry, Buck”, he said gravely.

“Steve..what?” Bucky asked as he gingerly took the phone from him. Sam looked back at him from the small screen, his solemn expression mirroring Steve’s.

“Bucky…I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly in that same tone, filling Bucky with a sinking dread.

Something was very wrong here.

“What is it?” He fired angrily at Sam, “just spit it out…”

Sam flipped the camera around to face what looked like a heap of old rags on the ground. He appeared to be in a parking garage, surrounded by nothing but concrete and darkness. It was hard to make anything out.

“What am I looking at here?” Bucky squinted at the camera as he tried to focus the image. Steve silently observed over his shoulder.

“Tell him what you just told us,” came the sound of Sam’s furious voice off-camera.

Bucky watched with confusion at the screen as Sam's boot suddenly kicked out at the heap, and the heap moved.

And then he clicked.

The ‘heap’ was a man.

The man groaned and cried out as Bucky realised the ‘rags’ were ripped, bloody clothes. He rolled over in obvious pain as Sam manoeuvred the camera to get a better look. As the man turned over, Bucky recognised his face. 

It was one of his own. 

“Rumlow?” Bucky asked with confusion. 

Behind him, Steve moved closer and leaned forward to watch the screen. ���Just watch, Buck” he said sombrely.  

Rumlow looked up at the phone, blearily staring into the lens as he squinted at the phone light. His face was bruised and bloodied. Someone had given him a good going over. 

“It was me. Alright? I did it,” Rumlow groaned.

“Did what?” Bucky sneered, still not entirely clear on where this was going – but already feeling his anger mounting.

Rumlow sighed heavily and Sam gave him another swift kick to the ribs to encourage him to continue. 

He moaned out in pain and closed his eyes. “Aaargh. Alright…I did it! I did it okay! I made the recording!” he spat.

Bucky’s eyes darkened as comprehension of the situation unfolding began to take hold. His fist tightened around the phone screen. “Which recording…Rumlow?” He asked, his voice sinisterly calm. 

Rumlow paused and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. Bucky recognised the look of fear building in the man’s eyes, he’d seen it many times before. Rumlow was stalling to delay the inevitable.

“Tell me!!” Bucky roared at the phone, holding it so tightly in his fist that the screen might crack.

He watched Rumlow wince as he turned away from the screen, dropping his head in defeat.

“Of your girl…talking to the police…it wasn’t her-uh-it wasn’t even real. I used AI. From…from recordings of her voice from old security footage…I’m sorry…I just-”

But Bucky was eerily composed. Rumlow took his silence as the cue to continue.

“I hacked into the security system and planted the clip of her getting in the car. And I stole her phone for a few hours when she was at the house with a friend, planting it at the meeting point then driving back with it. She didn’t even notice it was gone…I’m sorry I…”

Bucky cleared his throat. He tapped a single contemplative finger over his lips as his eyes glazed over.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice void of emotion. 

Sam flipped the camera back to face himself. He looked grimly into the lens. “I’m sorry Buck…we had no idea…I caught him on the phone with the feds about the shipment – he thought I’d already left and-”

“Keep him warm,” Bucky interrupted, his voice cold like ice, “I have more urgent matters to attend to first, but I will deal with him”.

Sam merely nodded. Just as he cut the call, Bucky heard Rumlow wail and beg in the background. He’d be doing a lot more of that soon.

In a sudden fog of anger, Bucky pelted his phone hard against the wall. He roared with rage, lobbing his scotch glass at the window – shattering both. He flipped his desk, the chair, the bookcase – leaving a tsunami of destruction in his wake. Steve merely watched on, patiently. He knew Bucky needed to vent whichever way he could.

Eventually Bucky slowed, panting with exertion as he took a second to try and slick back his hair, now unkempt and messy from his outburst. He pulled back his shoulders as he attempted to regain his composure.

“We’ll find her, Buck”, Steve told him unwaveringly. “She can’t have gone far on foot. Then you can explain everything and apologise”.

Bucky shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair. Toeing the pile of debris that now cluttered his office floor he sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t do it, Steve. And I didn’t believe her…”

“The recording was very convincing,” Steve clamped a sympathetic hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, “it sounded just like her – and had all of us fooled. Not to mention the phone location evidence…the CCTV of her leaving…before I came up here, Sam told me that this AI is brand new tech, far more advanced and convincing than what the masses have access to…”

Bucky bleakly shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. She’s my girlfriend and I’m supposed to trust her. Believe her. When I heard her voice on that recording I just…”, he trailed off sadly, “…it tapped into my worst fears…”

Steve nodded sagely. “Let’s just find her first, and you can talk to her. And then we can deal with Rumlow”.

Bucky grimaced, “I knew he was a risk to take on…with our shared history in HYDRA’s organisation…but I never thought…”

“Let’s just find her for now,” Steve repeated, always calm in a crisis. He pulled out his phone, making calls to various members of their group, sending out texts and kicking off various communication chains. In mere minutes, they’d have entire squads of their men scouring the area with a fine-tooth comb.

Bucky stood amongst the wreckage – the room’s physical ruins a glaring reminder that this wasn’t the only mess he’d made tonight. He pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket, opening his photo album as the pings and buzzes from Steve’s device filled the room. He flicked through the pictures of you: your face cheesily grinning at the camera, your lips sweetly planted on his cheek, a candid shot of you cooking in the kitchen – caught off-guard, your mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise. You’d asked him to delete it as you thought you looked dumb, but he insisted he keep as he like the way your eyes sparkled in it. It was one of his favourites. Looking at the pictures helped him calm down, his breath evening as he remembered what was important here. He ran a finger over the image of your face, “I’m sorry, doll” he whispered, “I promise I’ll do anything I can to fix this…”

A couple of miles away, you slept deeply in the tear-stained hotel sheets – completely unaware of the organised efforts to track you down. You didn’t dream, you didn’t stir, you just slept - grateful to give yourself over to oblivion.

💔

There had only been a few places you could have gone on foot.

Bucky’s men had worked quickly despite the late hour. The local police force, already firmly in Bucky’s pocket, loaned him a few law enforcement bodies to assist with the search, no questions asked – as was standard. Sheriff Bodecker always played ball. They collected the CCTV from local businesses, doorbell cam footage from local residents (who weren’t particularly happy to be woken to do so, but didn’t have much choice), swept the area on foot and in vehicles. It was faintly possible you had hitchhiked and thumbed a ride into the city, but Bucky knew this wasn’t likely, so they put that option on the backburner – although it hadn’t been entirely ruled out.

The gas station staff hadn’t seen you, but their CCTV did catch a blurred figure passing in the road opposite the camera. A faint outline of your route started to emerge as the puzzle pieces came together. Eventually, Bucky was sent the security footage of you checking into the Holiday Inn. His heart pulled as he watched you looking lost at the reception desk – your eyes round like saucers as you produced crumpled dollar bills, head turning left to right as you surveyed your drab surroundings. He could only imagine how lost you must’ve felt, how hurt and betrayed. Exiled by the man you loved, you trusted, and having to hunker down in a shitty roadside hotel. Part of him was impressed by your ability to pick yourself up and keep going even in the toughest circumstances – it was one of the many reasons he loved you. But mainly, he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d pushed you to this, that he’d failed you in so many ways.

Bucky inhaled deeply as he closed the hotel clip on his phone, nodding to his driver and stepping into the dark SUV.

I’m on my way, doll.

[cheriladycl01]

Love in the Fast lane - Max Verstappen x Actress! Reader

Plot: Max Verstappen meeting an Actress who has actively been a F1 fan from before the limelight gets invited to the Monza GP after her recent film debut.

"Can we please stop getting these celebrities in that know absolutely nothing about the sport? Vegas was a ball ache" Max says to Christian they walk through the Monza paddock.

"I think you'll actually enjoy who we have for this race, they're a big sponsor" Christian smiles.

"Yeah they all are ..." Daniel chimes in with a slight laugh.

"No, trust me guys i think you'll really really like her" Christian says as they round the corner. Normally whatever celebrity that sat in any of the garages would immediately be getting photos by both their manager and the Red Bull Team for the publicity on both ends.

However both Daniel and Max immediately saw the celebrity that had been invited. She was in the Red Bull team gear crouched down observing Max's car, she was asking questions to all the engineers before taking her own swing on things.

"That's Y/N Y/L/N" Daniel whispers wide eyed just watching her look so effortlessly normal.

"She's been a motor-sport fan for ages! Since before she was an actress. There's a picture of her at like age 10 at the South Korean Grand Prix. She had her first big movie 3 year later!" he continues as if he'd read an autobiography on her at some point.

"Hey Y/N come meet the drivers!" Christian offers to you, your hair was up in a tight pony tail, your face was natural and free of makeup and if they didn't know who you were apart from your outstanding natural beauty they'd assume you were an actual Red Bull team member.

"Oh my gosh, Hi hello!" you saying coming up to them and shaking there hands. Daniel and Max share a look between them, not believing how this 23 year old, Oscar Award winning actress is being a fan girl over them.

"Hello, its really nice to meet you!" Daniel says, and before you know it your being pulled into a hug.

"So you were asking some detailed questions about our cars, how'd that come about?" Max asks trying to get a judge on this girl.

"Oh! Well apart from the fact I've been a Motorsport fan for ages, I did a degree in Engineering at St Andrews around my career. I graduated last year!"

"Oh woah, that really amazing! Daniel was just telling me about the picture of you at the South Korean Grand Prix in 2010!" he offers, trying to get to know the extremely pretty girl in front of him. You excitedly pull out your phone, going straight into the photos app and to the specific album you had all of your Formula One pictures in.

"Oh i have another one of me and Sebastian Vettel when he won the 2013 Germany Grand Prix, I'd just got back from a movie premiere in London, and i refused to miss it! Oh and here's me, Lewis, Kimi and Sebastian in 2018!" you says showing them the pictures on the phone.

"Well, you had a picture with Seb when he was the Red Bull Golden boy but how about you get one with the current?" Max smirks, and your face reddens.

"Yeah of course! But I want a separate one just for me, not to go on any socials" you smile, you hand your phone to Christian who takes a private one of you and then the media teams come after to take them.

Daniel leaves to talk to his engineer and Christian leaves to set up for the race ahead.

"I'm going to be blunt, I like you. You have a true interest in the sport and if i win this race I want to take you out to dinner" he smirks, looking over at you. He was lent against the wall, his race suit down around his hips.

"Hmmm okay, you've got yourself a deal" you agree.

You watched the race in the Red Bull Garage with the headphones on. You'd been on camera a few times, sometimes when you'd been biting your lip as Max had clipped a corner or didn't break early enough but stopped himself from spinning out. Other times they just caught you with an in awe adoring look at the screen as you watched the cars zoom past.

Max tried as hard as he could but today the Ferrari's just had pace, Charles ended P1, Lando ended P2 and Carlos ended P3, Max unfortunately not being able to go for the overtake in the last sector.

"Everyone in RedBull was celebrating the win of P4 and P5, you came out with the pulling Daniel who had gotten out of his car first into a huge hug.

"Well done Dani that was an amazing race considering the longer pit stop" you admit looking at him and he gives you a massive grin back.

"Max, Max!" you shout as you see him pull himself over the halo of his car. He slams his fist onto the bonnet, and shoves his helmet into the seat of the car.

"Hey, stop you did really well!" you smile at him, holding each wrist of his in your hands, his forehead had started to line with a little bit of sweat, his helmet hair being scraped back now.

"Didn't get the dinner though did i?" he frowns.

"Well what if i tell you that I'm good to go out with you for dinner regardless of a race win..." you smile and he smiles back.

"But that would be going against the offer I originally made" he smirks, leaning forward.

"Fuck the original offer Verstappen" you laugh at him, pulling him in for a kiss that he happily led.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld

[michealscorneroftheinternet]

All right folks it's time to break it down for you!

We got a lot to go over so this will be quite a thread but let's go over everything I managed to notice after watching WOTFI 2024!

Let's-a Go!

.

.

.

.

.

For starters we got the goop coming out the screens from Puzzles tantrum! Very similar to a certain demonic goop from IGBP arc! We also have sets of numbers on the screens below that as far as I can tell don't have any significance but if you guys wanna take a crack at it go right ahead! (0800) (2310) (1340)

.

.

.

Not too long after that scene we get a little clip you could miss but I believe quite a few people have noted out already- 

Mario skeleton reflected in the Merry-go-round! Honestly quite a nice extra spooky touch for this God tier scene during Puzzles tantrum! Definitely is more confirmation of how much Puzzles hates Mario for sure.

.

.

.

Another IGBP arc reference that everybody including me wish they leaned more into as it was the start of Puzzles and quite a heavy weight for our dear SMG4 to hold. 

.

.

.

Now this next part though I haven't seen people note out yet but I couldn't help but note after Puzzles starts his song. After the lyric, “you'll never part!” We get a “tunnel looking” shot that I couldn't help but get a sneaking suspicion and after pausing frame by frame I found-

Guys this is the pit that swallowed Peaches Castle in IGBP. I've been in that map looking down into the jaws of that thing for too long not to notice such a detail!

Alright from here on these next few threads will be talking in depth about certain scenes and character actions within them. 

Everything from here on is based on my own bias so if you have another interpretation of the scene please feel free to share!!!

[brainddeadd]

luke had a massive crush on the social media girl at umich but it was never the right time and she had graduated before he did. they lost contact a bit and he didn’t know where she ended up going so when he gets to the devils he realized she’s the social medial team there…. they finally get together

Luke Hughes had a crush. Not just any crush—the crush. Ever since his sophomore year at the University of Michigan, he'd been captivated by the girl who ran the social media for the Wolverines' hockey team. Whether she was filming behind-the-scenes clips or making witty posts about their games, she always seemed to be around, with her bright smile and camera in hand.

But it never felt like the right time. Between the chaos of school, hockey, and his nerves getting the best of him, he never made a move. Then, suddenly, she graduated. Just like that, she was gone from campus, and Luke lost track of where she went. They exchanged a few DMs, but it fizzled out quickly. Life moved on, and Luke threw himself into his hockey career.

Flash forward, and Luke had just been called up to the New Jersey Devils. The excitement of making it to the NHL was overwhelming, but it came with the expected anxiety of adjusting to a new team and city. He walked into the Devils' training facility for his first media day, feeling a little jittery, when he froze.

There she was.

Standing there, camera in hand, laughing with a few of the other media team members.

He blinked, sure he was seeing things. There was no way—no way—she was now working for the Devils.

His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, it wasn’t the nerves of making his NHL debut that were rattling him. It was the same girl who'd haunted his thoughts since his days at UMich.

"Luke?" she called out, noticing his stare.

"Y-yeah. Hi," he stammered, feeling like a sophomore all over again.

She smiled, just as bright and warm as ever. "It's been a while! Guess we're on the same team again."

Luke swallowed, trying to hide the redness creeping up his neck. "Yeah... crazy, huh?"

From that moment on, they ran into each other constantly. Whether it was during team interviews, behind-the-scenes content shoots, or just passing in the hallway, Luke couldn't help but feel like fate had given him a second chance.

This time, he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.

---

Weeks went by, and their interactions grew more frequent. They joked around during team shoots, shared stories about UMich, and slowly, the tension between them built until it was palpable. Luke couldn’t deny it any longer. He had to do something.

One evening, after a big win, the media team was finishing up their content. The locker room was clearing out, and Luke found her still editing clips from the game.

"Hey," he said, walking over, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets. "Got a minute?"

She looked up, smiling softly. "Yeah, what's up?"

He hesitated for a moment, then decided to go for it. "You know, I've had this massive crush on you since our days back at UMich. I never did anything about it back then, and I regretted it when you left. But now... we're both here. And I don't want to miss another chance."

She blinked in surprise, her eyes wide. "Luke..."

Before she could say anything else, he spoke again, his nerves finally giving way to honesty. "So, what do you think? Want to grab dinner sometime? No cameras, no media, just us?"

Her stunned expression softened into a grin, and she nodded. "I think I’d really like that."

Luke let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Finally, after all this time, it was the right moment.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1

Silently, they swap seats. It feels ridiculous, how perfectly the whole exchange goes, how no-one else stirs, how the RV glides smoothly with Eddie's hands on the wheel.

“What about, uh, the walkman?” he asks, tries to sound matter-of-fact. Time for a new plan, time to think.

“No,” Steve says. There's a finality to his tone. “Max should keep it.”

Eddie exhales. “Okay, okay. There's—here, there's a radio.” He doesn't mention the fact that he's closer; knows that his hand would shake if he tried to reach for it. “Be great if you'd develop an emotional attachment to, like, all of the Top 40 right now, Harrington.”

There's a soft sound that might almost be a laugh. Eddie listens to Steve quietly moving around then returning to his seat, hears the static of the radio being turned on—volume low, as if Steve doesn't want to wake anyone up. The thoughtfulness, even now, makes something in Eddie's chest hurt.

But there's nothing, not even a whisper of a song, and then even the static stops. Steve has turned the radio off.

One second.

“No signal,” Steve says, and even though he's not looking at him, Eddie knows he's shrugging again, like it is what it is.

The panic Eddie had briefly kept at bay while trying to strategize comes flooding back. “Jesus Christ, this—this can't be happening.” There's another long pause, and Eddie inhales shakily, remembers how he hadn't noticed when Chrissy fell silent. “Hey, man, you've gotta—keep talking to me, okay, or I'm gonna lose it.” Let me know you're still here. Please.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “Talking. Um.”

“Um,” Eddie parrots. “Wow. Didn't finishing school teach you conversation skills?”

Steve laughs again—hushed but real. “Fuck off.” He sighs, then says, “God, this might be a weird thing to say—”

“Colour me intrigued.”

“—but I'm so relieved, dude, you have no idea.”

“You're right. That's an extremely fucking weird thing to say.”

“I didn't want it to be Max,” Steve says, so heartfelt that Eddie tightens his grip on the wheel. “Didn't want it to be... anyone, you know? It's—yeah, it's better like this.”

“‘Better’ is a strong word for it.”

“Mm. Like, come on, what's the worst he could have in store for me? The summer our AC broke, that was pretty rough—”

“Don't,” Eddie says sharply, and all at once the joking tone they'd built up evaporates. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don't...” Eddie swallows. Recalls when he'd cut through the gym to get to Drama Club, how he'd glance over at Cheer Practice and think, They've all got it made, haven't they? Shiny fucking picture-perfect lives. “Don't bullshit me, all right?”

“...Okay.”

Eddie scoffs weakly, tries to regain the banter they were sharing. “Hey, if you can't be honest now, when can you?”

“Sure, that's—that's fair.” Steve shifts in his seat. “I was talking to Max, about the... when it happened to her. And she said she thought of happy memories, so. Got an idea of what to expect, at least.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, the mild tone only barely covering his anxiety. “Know what you're thinking about, then?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. He's smiling; Eddie can hear it. “Got a few things in mind.”

“Good, that's... that's good.”

The road is getting more familiar: it won't be long until they're nearing the Welcome to Hawkins sign.

“Kinda impressed with you, Munson. Was expecting you to drive like a bat out of hell.”

“Ha, ha. Special occasion, and all—”

A pained gasp cuts through the air, and Eddie's stomach lurches. “Shit, shit, Steve—”

“I'm fine,” Steve says quickly, “I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.”

“Tell me the fucking truth. Please.”

“It's just my head. Hurts a bit. Not a big deal, I've had worse.”

From the clipped way Steve is speaking, Eddie knows it's more painful than he's letting on.

He slows and brakes at a stop light before taking the chance to, finally, look over.

Steve is staring straight ahead, eyes in focus, and Eddie suppresses a sigh of relief at the sight. But then he sees how Steve's jaw is clenched.

“How's the clock?” he says cautiously. Prays for a miracle.

“Still there. It's closer. And, um...” Steve's mouth opens, closes, opens again. “I'm guessing the black widows on the dashboard aren’t actually...?”

God, he says it so easily. Eddie can't comprehend the bravery of it. “No, there’s nothing there,” he says.

“S'okay,” Steve says, “I'll just look at you.”

“I've been told I'm a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie says dryly.

“Oh, I’d believe that,” Steve returns, somehow both matching Eddie’s tone and sounding completely sincere. He turns to Eddie and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“This bit really isn’t so bad, Eddie,” Steve says gently. “Just some spooky pictures, really. That’s kids’ stuff. And you’re—you’re good company.” The light changes. Eddie looks away with reluctance, starts up the engine again. “I try my best,” he says lightly, and wonders how someone can be so close to… to… (he can’t say it; he won’t say it). So close to that, and still smile about it.

You’re incredible, Steve Harrington.

“Home sweet home,” Eddie murmurs as they pass the Welcome sign. “Hey, we made pretty good time, too.”

“I didn’t mean to be late,” Steve says nonsensically.

“What the—?”

“I didn’t, Dad, I didn’t. I’m not lying.”

There’s ice in Eddie’s veins. “No, no, no, stop—stay with me Steve,” he says, which is so fucking stupid, what, did he think he could solve this through sheer force of will? No matter how many times he begged, Chrissy never woke up.

But then Steve gasps, and it sounds like he did at Lover’s Lake, just before he got dragged back under. “Sorry, sorry. I’m still here.”

“Jesus. We’re—we’re here.” “We’re…? Right, yeah.” A deep breath. “Okay. New plan. My place first,” Steve says firmly. “We'll drop the kids off.” There's an unshakable resolve in his voice.

Eddie takes the next turning, doesn’t even enjoy the double take that Steve does at that, the fact that Eddie already knows his address. When he glances over, he sees beads of sweat on Steve’s face. Eddie speeds up.

Please, please. Just hold on.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: A Day In The Life

————————————————————————-

Summary: You do a mini TikTok vlog of a day in the life with your boys while pregnant. (Pregnancy announcement to the public!)

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

January 10, 2024

After posting some more pranks I've done on Joe, surprisingly, my following on TikTok has grown significantly.

Usually, posting Joe on my socials garnered negative attention, AKA hate. I did it because social media apps were meant to share your life, and Joe was a huge part of my life.

I never meant it in a braggadocios way, but that's what people seemed to take from my family photos and post-win pics with my husband.

That's why I was so surprised to see that everyone loved my Joe pranks.

The comments held a consensus that I’d never seen under a post of mine, they loved Joe and I’s dynamic.

I didn't need the public fan validation to make me feel secure in my relationship with Joe, but for once, they understood how special our relationship was, and some even apologized for past statements.

“They love us, Joe.” - you

“No, honey, they love you.” - Joe smiled

After those words were shared, Joe pointed out how all the comments were mostly praising me.

“take back everything I said abt her.”

“stop she matches joe’s energy so well…”

“the way he can’t stay mad at her, they’re so in love”

“actually such a cute couple”

“they compliment each other so well!”

“i see why joe married her! 🥹”

“i want y/n to be MY mom.”

“who gave y/n the right to be so adorable.”

“she’s so fun!”

“the way joe looks at her.. 😭”

“still jealous, but he loves her sm.”

“MY PARENTS.”

“i bet y/n’s the best mom and wife”

“Everyone’s switching sides now, but they never deserved hate. Joe wouldn't marry her if he didn't love her, and I'm glad that you guys can see that now. She makes him really happy!!”

“See? Some are even requesting more videos, baby. Do you see how many new followers you've gotten?” - Joe

“It's just because I posted content of you…” - you

“No, don't say that. It's because you showed your personality, and they love you. They see why I love you.” - Joe

“Do you really think so?” - you

“I know so. Everyone thinks your pranks are hilarious, you're funny, and you handle me super well.” - Joe

“I do handle you super well.” - you laughed

“The best.” - Joe winked

——

That was two days ago, right after we put the twins to sleep and right before we went to bed ourselves.

Currently being nine in the morning, I just woke up.

It was off-season now, but that still meant early mornings.

This morning was a little different, though, because I was making a ‘day in the life’ TikTok.

Since my pranks had become a hit, I've gotten quite a few video ideas from fans in the comments. Most wanted to see more of our everyday lives and wanted to know what it was like as an NFL wife and mother.

So, I decided to do a short video to show what our family day routine was like on an average off-season day.

The thing is… Joe didn't know it was happening.

Joe loved that I was finally being seen the way he saw me but was still weary of what I was posting.

He wasn't a huge fan of social media, and being super public with our relationship and kids, he detested it.

I respected it, but sometimes Joe would ask to participate in a video unprompted.

Lately, that has become a bigger case, so I was hoping he wouldn't mind taking part in the mini-vlog.

Joe was still asleep when I got out of bed, so I discreetly walked into the bathroom after grabbing my phone.

I wouldn't be talking in the video, just showcasing the sounds of the background and whatever I was doing, while the text that I would put over it later would describe what was going on.

After making little clips of me brushing my teeth, washing my face, and brushing my hair out, I walked back into the bedroom.

Next, I recorded a little snippet of me picking out my outfit - leggings and one of Joe’s hoodies - before turning my phone off to get changed.

Now that I was ready, I headed downstairs to start breakfast.

I pulled ingredients out of the fridge for Joe’s smoothie, omelets for me and me, and some of the ingredients for the boy's pancakes.

Just as I was starting the blender, a sleepy-looking Joe with raging bedhead shuffled into the kitchen.

“G’morning.” - you grinned

Thankfully, he put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I was glad of that because he'd complain about being shirtless on camera.

“Hi.” - Joe mumbled

“You good, buddy?” - you laughed

“Mhm. I just don't like waking up to see that you're not next to me.” - Joe

“Awe, I'm sorry. C’mere.” - you

I opened my arms to Joe, and he immediately was in my embrace. My arms were around his waist as I squeezed him, and his head lay on my shoulder.

When he pulled away from me, Joe’s eyes landed on the recording camera and immediately went wide-eyed.

“Why are you recording?” - Joe

“I'm making a ‘day in the life' video. I won't put anything in it that you aren't comfortable with, like what just happened.” - you

“Oh… ok. Yeah, don't put that in, though, because I sound like a baby.” - Joe

His grimace made me laugh because I thought our interaction was cute. Then again, I loved Joe’s needy, soft side. It was purely adorable.

“My baby.” - you grinned

“Stop…” - Joe

Joe was trying to hide his smile as his cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't help but giggle. I loved knowing I could make him blush, even after all the years we've been together.

“Do you need help recording anything?” - Joe

“Not at the moment, but if I do, I'll ask you.” - you

“Okay. Want me to make the pancakes?” - Joe

“Sure! Can I get a clip of you flipping them?” - you

“Of course.” - Joe smiled

Shortly after that, Joe got started on the pancakes, and I recorded a little video to get audio of the sizzling from the hot pan.

When I got a short clip of Joe flipping a mini pancake, I didn't put his face in it, but you could very clearly see it was him. His easily recognized bracelets and hands gave that away, along with the laugh the speaker picked up when he executed the flip perfectly.

“I should be a pro cook.” - Joe

“We both know that shouldn't happen.” - you

Joe busted out laughing and told me to put that in the mini-vlog.

“Will do.” - you giggled

——

Later in the day, I had gotten most of the wanted content filmed, including waking the boys up, breakfast, and playing/cleaning around the house.

Now, Joe, Me, and the boys were on our way to the reason for the entire video.

AKA the ultrasound that I'm having today.

It was a hard launch of my pregnancy, but Joe and I thought we'd include it in the video since my maternity photoshoot wasn't for a couple more weeks. The reason we were announcing it before the shoot was because it was getting hard to hide my growing bump. We’d much rather announce it ourselves than someone screenshot a picture of me in the background with a round belly.

When we got sent back to the ultrasound room, Joe sat in the chair next to where I was. Tyson was in Joe’s lap while Miles sat in the chair next to them.

“You ready to see sissy?” - Joe

Tyson and Miles both nodded, causing Joe and I to both smile.

Soon the ultrasound tech walked into the room and before I knew it, the familiar feeling of cold gel on my stomach made me hiss.

“Okay, Mama?” - Joe

“Gel’s just cold. I'm fine.” - you smiled

Joe made sure to get a good video of you watching the monitor, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes at the sight of his baby girl.

He would never get tired of being called, girl dad, Joe wore it like a proud Boy Scout who had just received a new badge.

“Baby Girl is doing great, measuring how she should be, and is very healthy.” - Tech

“Good.” - you and Joe in sync

After a few more minutes, she wiped off my bump, and I was set to go.

Joe helped me off of the chair and pulled the hoodie back over my stomach.

“I love you.” - Joe grinned

“I love you too.” - you

——

I spent the first thirty minutes back home editing together the clips I already had, getting approval from Joe for each one.

It surprised me how much feedback and “Oh, this would be cool!” Joe was giving me. He liked this more than I thought he would.

We ate dinner just shortly after that, and the rest of the afternoon was slow, as it usually was.

Tyson and Miles went to bed earlier than usual, so Joe and I spent the majority of the evening watching space documentaries that Joe had been wanting to watch.

The last video of the day routine vlog was of the TV in front of us, Joe’s hand on my bump in view, as well as our legs tangled together.

I never truly appreciated the little things in my everyday life till they were pointed out in a video, like how Tyson always looks at Joe for approval before doing something or how Miles's eyes crinkle up when he smiles, just like his daddy’s.

Watching back at the completed TikTok while tucked into my handsome husband’s side as he rubbed over my baby bump and drew little shapes on it with his thumb had me thinking something I seem to always find my mind drifting off to. Oh, boy, was I one lucky girl.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: cutie family fluff for Sunday

Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🫶

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[kanmom51]

Are you sure? Announcement

Ok, so waking up to this little surprise kind of made my day.

With this following:

The two of them in a nutshell. 🤣

And this is how it looks on the Big Hit IG account.

Curious how their names are actually placed next to the other, so that JK's name is next to JM and JM's name is next to JK's.

Curious is what I am going to say.

But back to that little surprise we got.

And before I get into it I want to stress, and this is a given by now, but I will say it once again: these are my observations and opinions. Opinions being the key word here.

Just before we begin on this little surprise clip we got, can someone explain why it's titled 'Are you sure?!' Announcement (from USA) when it actually looks like this was filmed when they were in Jeju?🤔

I'm sorry, but we afraid of watering down, were we?

They couldn't even edit out the gay from a 1:23 min. announcement...

And this is them trying really hard to be on their best behavior for less than a couple of minutes on camera with a script to follow. 🤣

What will we be getting when they are in a relaxed natural setting???

With so much stand alone Jikook content, no amount of editing will be able to hide their dynamics, what they are to each other, what they mean to each other.

I cannot wait!!!

I've already mentioned this in the reblog of JM's Muse numbers, but I am bringing this up again the 1:23!!!

Intentional. A choice. Not a coincidence.

Not when this just keeps to happen again and again and again and again and again... countless times.

What can I tell you? They just melt my heart.

The way I just know that this ended with shits and giggles.

You can see JK breaking into laughter as the camera cuts. That little bob of his Adam's apple, snickering away.

This wasn't an easy one for them to shoot. JK looked tired (end or start of a day filled with activity?), JM looked I don't want to say flustered at times, because that is a big word, but at the same time I don't know what word to use to describe him being a little off his game. JK did his stimming and a little of his swaying, and as much as they clearly had a script to follow (I will get to that), it felt like it was still a hard one to keep a straight face to (JM was the one that mainly faltered on that part). I guess that was also him finding it hard to stay stoic when JK is being adorable, and even harder to do when you have to read out a script describing something that as is has you a little anxious, and you are JM and think that every single thing that JK does is adorable.

🤣

This announcement was all about them and only them. We know how they are with these announcements with the other 5 around to buffer them. Not only was there none of that here, but this was about them, their show, their travels, their Tokyo (notice how very unalike themselves they were while talking about the Tokyo trip? Trying to be unemotional? Like reading out of a text - which they basically were). This show is not a big deal for them. It's a huge deal. And it's not about 'coming out' or not. This is the first time we are being allowed into their world, just them. Not a few minutes of interaction. A whole show seeing them in what JM described ups and downs (I am very curious to see what that's about). We have seen them in relaxed situations in the past. We had BV and ITS. But that has 7 members with interactions and dynamics amongst the lot. This is just JM and JK the whole time. And even with a shit ton of editing that will surely be going on, we are going to be getting a peek into THEM, and this is something that is a huge deal for them, even more so JM.

This is JM talking about the show, their moments that they will be sharing with us. And think that this is JM talking before Sapporo (not to mention Tokyo which looks like we aren't going to be getting any of in this show - shock - not really).

If there was an unscripted moment in this clip, I tend to think this might have been it. Other than that, I think that the two were pretty much on script.

Now let's address that one for a second shall we?

I do believe this announcement recording was scripted. They weren't doing bullet points. This was too hard for them to come up with off the top of their heads. Situation too charged. So there was a script, that could have even been written by themselves. There were things that needed to be said, points to keep to, especially if it was them having this all squeezed into a neat 1:23 minute clip. And just winging it, even more so on this specific subject matter was not an option (btw, most of their announcements are scripted, we see that, we know that, and this in that sense is no different, although again, this one was, in my opinion, way harder for them).

This clip we got to see today is them being on camera scripted for 1:23 minutes.

And this is them on camera without a script for basically the same amount of time (even less in the one frame).

This, my friends, is a good example as to why they needed not only dot points but an actual script to follow here, lol.

So, you understand now why this HAD to be scripted. Same reason why JM kept denying JK of his wish to have a live together.

Before continuing, just wanted to mention this as well:

The way JK is holding on to his hand (there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, this was just him holding himself back). That was the first thing I thought of when this clip started and JK was standing that way holding his hand. But then I looked again and what did I see? Nothing too significant, just the two mirroring each other in they way they are placing their hands, left hand over right. Not a biggie, just a cutie. At the start of the clip, as seen above. And towards the end of it, as seen below.

Cuties.

Back to the scripting... sorry for getting off track. It's not me it's them.🤣

And then you will say: "well, what's the difference between that (as in the announcement clip) and the show?" and to that I will reply:

"Everything".

The show is them being them, travelling, having fun doing different activities, relaxing, at times forgetting the cameras are even there. They get to be themselves without holding back. Because they know that if they are themselves too much then they have the editing to fall back on. Not to mention the difference between an announcement or a live where the full attention is on the audience, that's us (and if they don't have a script they tend to lose focus on us and focus on each other instead - same reason JM told us in the past why he didn't have JK over for his live - he would be paying attention to him instead of us), and the travel show where the attention is on them and their interactions. In that capacity they are supposed to forget the cameras are there. The cameras are there to document them being themselves, natural, with genuine interactions, which they will be, and we, my friends, are going to enjoy every single second of it.

Back to our announcement clip.

The amount of cuts and probably re-takes they needed here. And even with this obviously scripted message it was hard for them to stay grounded (yes, for both of them).

I see where Bunny is going with this and that cut does feel a heck a lot sus. And it is very possible that JK did say something that flustered JM. Although I do still believe that his "I'm not even sure it's ok to release this" isn't meant for something JK might have said while recording this clip (which had multiple cuts to it as they knew it would), but more so to what was referenced by them as "you'll see us as we are".

And yes, it appears like JM is pulling JK back into frame, but if you watch the full video you see that they were both kind of going in and out of it without JM bothering too much. So why here? First off, I think that JK was a little more jittery at this point, he was stimming more and doing a little of his swaying, which JM calms with a touch at times. Perhaps because this was the 'revealing' part? The one they get into a bit of the nitty gritty of the show? Idk.

But I don't think that was the only reason either. I think JM needed the touch at that moment as well. See how he moves from JK's arm to his nape holding on as he says "I'm not even sure it's ok to release this"... like he needed that reassurance himself as well at that moment.

Idk, to me it felt like JM hand placement was done not only to comfort JK but also himself.

And cut/edit, JM is not holding on to JK anymore...

I guess what I'm trying to convey is that we are used to JM being the one to calm JK, ground him. And although I do think that was the correct assumption in the past, I do think that since 2021 that has changed and JK is to JM as JM is to JK the person who calms or grounds them. JM told us as much in Letter.

We also got to see the two with one single hoop in their left ear.

Was this the same day, or did they just wear the hoops like that their whole Jeju getaway? JK in the photos from their meet up with Tae seems to have another earring in his right ear, so possibly not same day.

And will leave you with this as well to do with as you wish.

Ok, not going to talk your ears off, pun intended.

Just one more little secret to tell you, if I already have you here:

Shh...

Don't tell anybody else, this is between me and you...

These two...

They're in love.

Shh...

You didn't here it from me.

[annabelle--cane]

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

[meatballlady]

It's time for the fandom to start Looking Where the Furniture Isn't

For a bit of background, one of my irl professional responsibilities is to identify and avoid making undue assumptions. There are a LOT of things that we humans assume. We assume that terminology means the same to other people as it does to us. We assume everyone has the same context of a situation we do. We assume that we aren't missing any information.

We operate on the information we have.

There was an ask before season 2 aired asking whether many of the plot points had been revealed by the clips (which almost all took place during the first half of the first episode). Neil's response was something like "oh you sweet summer children you know nothing yet." And boy was he right.

Neil Gaiman is a master of controlling assumptions. Just look at his Tumblr askbox replies.

Here's a few s2 examples of assumptions we all made (as I'm starting a rewatch):

Why did Crowley do the (very fun and distracting) apology dance? You might say it was because he walked out on Jim, but he never specified, did he? And Aziraphale was surprised that he proposed they would hide him "together"

How did Shax get a rumor about something going down in the Up (presumably) before Gabriel even went downstairs?

Did Jim need to bring Aziraphale something other than the box? He never actually specifies; Aziraphale just assumes it's the box.

Why did Aziraphale assume Maggie could feel [Michael, Uriel, Saraquael] arriving?

Why does Aziraphale say Heaven would notice even a small miracle? Crowley is seen doing a miracle before their large miracle (traffic light), and later Aziraphale makes the guy leave the table at the pub

To go deeper:

Are we assuming that characters are telling the truth? Example: "Miracles don't work like that," "[Extreme sanctions] was just something we said to frighten the cherubs" etc.

Are we assuming that nothing of note happened between apocalypse v1 and s2? (ex. the claims that Crowley didn't tell Aziraphale about the trial in heaven despite him referencing it in s2s1) What if we the audience are just jumping in near the end of this story?

Are these assumptions correct? Or are we just working with the information that we have?

Now that I'm looking for it, there's also SO many corrections of assumptions (usually for the sake of a joke, but still) (these are just the ones that happen while I type them out while watching e2):

"Can I be a blue one?" "You haven't annoyed me yet" "But can I be?"

"You recognized [Michael, Uriel, Saraquael] those people who were in the shop just now?" "Of course, they were in the shop, just now!"

"oh my god!" "blasphemy, angel, that's not like you", "no, oh, my god"

Many of the themes were about hiding things in plain sight: the kids (and kids), Jim, "aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear." Clue (1985) was heavily referenced in the lead-up. The whole point of that film was looking at what was going on elsewhere. Looking where the furniture isn't, you might say.

The more I watch s2, the less certain I am that any of it makes sense on its own.

I'm currently combing through it to see if there are any discrepancies with where people are (easiest example is when Crowley just disappears from the bookshop while they're reviewing the Job story). It'll be a lot of data and might not lead anywhere, but I'll definitely share once I finish looking into it.

I will also honestly admit that these things are all circumstantial, and I could be going insane. But they just keep cropping up all over the place. I've got a lot of time before S3 comes up and I intend to investigate the furniture. And try to not make assumptions.

[ingravinoveritas]

craftyballoonwinner mentioned you on a post "anna always got to prove to us she still got her…”

I can't wait for @nightgoodomens and @ingravinoveritas takes on today. Something happened and while I'm happy to not have GM around the fact it was MS&DT ALL night makes my eyebrows raise.

@craftyballoonwinner It has taken me the last few days to process everything that happened on Friday, because to say that I am floored by what we got is a tremendous understatement.

We knew that Michael had been in London and had specifically gotten a house in Chiswick close to David's house since November of last year, for his run in Nye at the National Theatre. We knew that the second run in Cardiff ended on June 1st and that as soon as it did, Michael immediately came back to London. We knew that--schedules and work/family commitments allowing--they were likely spending a great deal of time together (despite only seeing three pictures of them over the course of that entire interval: The Macbeth photo, the blurry pic that Anna posted back in November, and the photo from Lapland last December).

The smallest pieces, flashes of something beautiful and bright yet still obscured, ensconced from public view. So much so that I never in a million years expected Michael to come to Pub in the Park--hoped, certainly, but the thought of it actually happening seemed like a distant dream, a dazzling impossibility.

But this past Friday was just...so extraordinary and lovely precisely because it was ordinary. It wasn't a press junket or an interview or Michael and David promoting something...it was just them. The two of them together, basking in the warmth of each other's presence. It was there even in the first picture I saw, and it permeated through every clip, every moment of them at the event:

The smiles. The ease and comfort they have around each other. The effortless love that just exists between Michael and David, and that is tangible in every dimension, as much on a screen as in real life. And when they were on stage together, it wasn't even that they played off each other so well--it was that Michael's last minute appearance didn't cause either of them to lose so much as a step. It was that you just knew that they couldn't have put any other two people up on that stage without prior planning and had that same chemistry, that charm and familiarity. And it was just so damn wonderful to see Michael and David looking so happy and joyful overall.

As for what happened with Georgia, I am just more confused than anything else. For the last month and a half, Georgia heavily promoted PitP, and both she and David billed her as a co-host. Every flyer, every piece of promotion that was shared (both by the PitP social media and Georgia) mentioned her as a co-host, along with David. She even did an interview on the Gaby Roslin podcast with David and Arabella Weir where she was again specifically referred to as a co-host and admitted not knowing her own Instagram handle, as well as saying that she would be active on Insta during the PitP event.

There is a strange irony to the podcast as well, given that David actually said "We're failing our hosting duties right here!" in the above linked clip, and what seemed like a joke at the time actually came to pass. For whatever reason, Georgia failed in her duty, the job that she signed up to do. Had it been because of all the attacks that David was a target of over the past week after the blow-up with Kemi Badenoch, Rishi Sunak, and the entire Tory party, that would have made sense. I would have completely understood if Georgia, who had also been targeted in those attacks, was feeling anxious or worried about her/the kids' safety and elected to stay home instead.

However...Georgia didn't stay home. She actually was at the event, as were several of their kids (Ty and Olive, from what I've seen). She was there, drinking and dancing, and somehow that made her abdication of co-hosting duty even more conspicuous and strange. It also makes it increasingly obvious that Michael's appearance on stage was a last minute occurrence and not part of the original plan of events.

So what actually happened? I don't know. None of us know, and it's likely we won't know until a later time, if ever. But in the real world, if you are given a job to do, if a contract is signed with a written agreement to do that job and you don't do the job, there are consequences. At the very least, it can negatively affect someone's reputation and reduce the likelihood of them receiving offers for future jobs. On the other end, you could be looking at potential lawsuits for things like breach of contract. And none of this even gets into disappointed fans or attendees who might've been hoping to see Georgia host and who could possibly now claim to be victims of false advertising because she didn't.

It also feels like a huge missed opportunity on the part of PitP, who could have potentially raised hundreds or even thousands of pounds more for charity had Michael been booked as a co-host, or even a guest. Regardless of whether Michael was there in an official capacity, though, I am just glad that he was there, and that we got to see the two of them together again.

The night may have lacked the glitz and formal glamour of the NTAs, but it more than made up for it with the relaxed domesticity we got to see between Michael and David. And now that Michael is hanging around London a bit longer, hopefully there will be many more memorable nights like this to come.

[ibrithir-was-here]

Already posted this on the LXGF Discord but what the heck I'll share this incredibly niche little thing here too xD

Just gonna copy my explanation from Discord:

I've never actually really watched or played Castlevania beyond seeing some clips, but for some reason the little I know of it spawned the idea of the Canon Timeline kids getting shot into the Castlevania world and of course immediately joining the fight against Dracula xD

This would be after they're married. Some sort of magical mission goes wrong, and they get isekaid, separated, and are looking for each other.

Quincey ends up saving a few villages, and then meeting the main Trio. Alucard is incredibly confused by this semi-dhampir/self taught necromancer who's really nice but also so personally hell bent on killing his father

Lu meanwhile decides the best way to fight vampires is with science and teaches the villagers how to make bombs and muskets xD --and then gets captured by the vampires as seen above

(I did have this moment where I realized "wait...I have this dark-haired dhampir running around trying to save his blonde sassy wife...who's name starts with L...and they have an adorable blonde kiddo..who's name starts with an A ..did I just...take Castlevania Dracula's backstory and flip it to fighting for humans? 😅)

But yeah, there's probably some at least understanding/empathy from Quincey on behalf of Castlevania Dracula's backstory. Still doesn't excuse the whole genocide. And he's still Dracula. He had a forest of corpses even before he got married after all, and he didn't get them from Ye Olde Spirit Halloween thats for sure

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

This will be more of a personal post sprinkled with some thoughts on AYS?!, so for those interested strictly in shipping content, you can skip this.

I couldn't help myself yesterday to wait until my work schedule was done. So I watched the first two episodes during lunch break and work, while using the keyboard from time to time to not appear offline.

And then a second time in the evening, without as many interruptions. I even texted my sister to remind her that the episodes have been released (she has JK's songs on her playlists and that's where it stops). My tone was very casual, as if I just remembered it was already up. As if I haven't actually been thinking and obsessing about that show for a year now. But that's because I can't let this online, fandom "life" seep through my other, "real" one. I've always struggled with my feelings of shame over being part of such spaces. Which is why I avoided them completely. Up until four years ago. I'm still dealing with it. I don't want to tell people that I have an interest in a kpop ship and that it's been ongoing for a few years now. It feels to foreign to the image I allow others to have of me and this kpop stuff is childish to say the least. I've fallen victim to the talking points I've argued against intellectually. But life doesn't work that way. My rational brain doesn't get along with my feelings.

So I keep my thoughts about shipping, fandoms, jikook here. And I share them with friends and people that have a connection to it. It's why I have a blog. So I can post a photo of jikook holding hands at the beginning of their journey and at least 10 people will understand it cause they like the same thing. I'm not a loser on my own here so the thought feels comforting.

I didn't have specific expectations about AYS?!, but I felt happy watching it. It was different, but a good different. Having the opporrtunity to witness them from morning till evening without any interruptions painted an interesting picture and it's the first time to see some parts of their dynamic.

They bicker, they flirt, they get lovingly annoyed, they get bored, they get silent, they get touchy. It feels more real than any 2-min clip from a Memories DVD could possibly show us. I don't want picture perfect jikook because it doesn't exist. Being in stan spaces, all I see everyday is worship, a mentality that is then transfered to the people surrounding the idol. But I don't want JK to worship Jimin 24/7 or vice versa. That's not a real relationship of any kind. I want to see them treat each other like they're just people. Which is what they did. Too bad that some have interpreted that as negative when in fact all we got were clear signs of actual closeness. And nothing beats it like Jungkook's attitude towards Jimin being sick. Shippers/supporters have clips and endless arguments on hand to explain the closeness between jikook, but honestly? That first evening in the cabin when JM was in the bathroom and subsequently the next morning should be the sole argument from now on. It can't be more obvious if it hit us in the head.

It's not about needing confirmation at every step of them being a couple. At least I don't need that. In the long run, it wouldn't even matter if they're not. What's noticeable is that they appear to be one and that doesn't come out of thin air.

Is my mood volatile these days? Yes. Actually these past few months. Do I need this show as one of those feel good series? Definitely, because there's nothing else out there to catch my attention in terms of tv content. I don't want to pick apart and poke holes and question every single line to make myself feel miserable. Everything else is too bad and I am too lame so I rely on this show for a short, temporary thing that improves my mood. I don't care about other things, doubts or worries. I really really just want to enjoy jikook doing whatever they want. I don't have high standards.