#anyway back to the main point which is WHAT'S THE DEAL
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utilitycaster · 8 months ago
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(as always with Midst stuff please do not reveal anything from beyond what has aired on the main feed)
Saving the character stuff of this episode for another post, but everything about the Breach operation on Midst that's come up recently feels...not quite cohesive. Specifically, it feels like different higher-ups in the Upper Trust had different ideas of what was going on. Costigan is under the impression that they knew about Breach from Ginsberg's arraignment, which presumably Spahr attended (and possibly presided over). Now, Imelda could be playing Weepe regarding his reveal of the Breach operation, and already knew; but the first mission she sent Phineas on was about Fuze's letter, not Breach. Meanwhile, Phineas didn't seem aware of the Breach operation at all until after the sale of Midst and well after he'd interrogated Tzila. She also, in Oversight, says that Weepe provided key information. Which on the one hand he did; Ginsberg probably didn't know much. On the other hand, it's not like...a big place, and they probably would have figured it out within a week.
Another weird point is Fleit Sr, who seems shocked in Oversight that Jonas brings up Phineas's behavior in the raid and the Maximilan Loxlee case, even though his reason for being present is tied to Breach. And, of course, there's Kozma's admission in the previous episode, which frankly makes more sense if she knew the Trust knew about Breach - get them there and scare them off - but why is the Company not pursuing it at all anymore when they have all the information?
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phagodyke · 4 months ago
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anyway yeah relevant to that post abt being deaf/hoh and ppl excluding u from conversation bc of it (even unintentionally), that's smth that's been really deeply bothering me lately bc there are a few ppl I routinely have to deal with who do it a lot and it Pisses Me The Fuck Off I've lost all patience w them. giving up and calling it ableism and walking out idc anymore 🚶‍♂️
#theres a guy at work whos incredibly annoying for it but tbh hes bad at his job in general anyway n everyones annoyed at him all the time#so at least i get some solidarity from my other coworkers (who are generally rly accommodating of my deafness)#i dunno how he hasnt got the memo ive explained im deaf so he needs to face me n make sure he has my attention n enunciate multiple times#but nope still not getting thru to him! so half the time if he starts mumbling i just pointedly ignore him until he either speaks more#clearly or goes away lmao#and same with a friend of a friend im sure hes a nice guy and everyone else seems to like him n hes in our main discord server so i cant#avoid him as easily and ive been so tolerant of it but hes worn thru my patience entirely and idc abt trying to be nice anymore#if he comes on call and starts mumbling and sidelining me from the conversation i just put him on mute im not dealing with that anymore#i dont fucking care if its petty and rude to do that. im tired of trying to understand him and dealing with how left out he makes me feel#i hope he picks up on the hostility n feels unwanted so maybe then he'll understand what its like for me and fix his behaviour 👍#bc i have no other way of communicating that with him anymore. since I CANT FUCKING HEAR HIM!!!!!#he also has a lot of other annoying behaviour which is fine but this is my limit its so disrespectful and outside of my control#make space for my disability or go away forever#not sure if we could even be friends if he did change now bc hes soured my impression of him so much by this point.#sad! well theres other guys#im glad everyone ive met at climbing so far has been pretty good abt it. really not that hard to do!#anyway rant over lol. at least the guy at work is only on a temp contract so only have to deal w him for a few more months#unfortunately since the rest of that group is friends w this other guy he'll prolly be around longer. but oh well lmao#just crossing my fingers he'll drift away n never open discord again so ill never have to deal w his shitty crackly mic mumbling#or maybe he'll stop fucking calling from whatever wind tunnel hes in and properly join in on our movie nights instead!!!!!#it is sad bc i think he has similar music taste to me. there are def some things we have in common that could form a basis for friendship#but hes gone n ruined it innit#aaaanyway oops started complaining again... the bitch grind never ends#im gonna shower n go back to elden ringing it.... fare thee well#.diaries
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carcarrot · 6 months ago
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old man yells at cloud about constant sequels
#i wantttttt to like the beetlejuice sequel (just saw the trailer) and i don't want to be a hater. however#i dont knowwwww i mean theres a lot of callbacks to the original. which is good. its just#maybe its seeing some of these same effects done in cgi. or something#like it just looks like every other modern movie except w some of that beetlejuice imagery#im assuming the sandworms are cgi. bring back the claymationnnn bring back practical effectssss#idk im just really getting to hate the way movies nowadays look that are likely shot digitally and are just so subdued color wise#is any of this making sense.#like thinking of the original beetlejuice like whoa the colors were popping! greens reds purples!#and theyre so important and tied to the look of the movie and how it sticks in your mind#(im sorry. beetlejuice has always been one of my favorite movies. but anyway)#and now the sequel just looks ehhhh. you know#also we still should have had beetlejuice goes hawaiian instead. if we had to have a sequel#plus the story of the sequel seems so dependent on the story of the first movie like is there going to be anything original?#what made the first movie so good was not only was it a fun different storyline of these ghosts and everything#but it was also a good satire of the yuppies of that era as well as the idea of the afterlife and ghosts and all that. which was different!#im probably not making all of my points clearly and this doesnt really matter anyway but anyway#i need movies to be standalone movies. i dont want everything to be part of a series#i dont want beetlejuice to be called beetlejuice 1#bc then ill be saying 'back in my day we had only one beetlejuice'#LIKE. yes some movies are really good and you could watch a whole tv show more with the characters in that movie#but it doesnt actually have to be made. thats for you to imagine in your mind#like wow i love those characters in beetlejuice. i wonder what it would be like going forward for these people to live with ghosts#but thats for you and your imagination!!!! ugh i dont know is any of this making sense i ask again. i keep trying to wrap up this post#but im very passionate about films and as i think about my own main movie idea/screenplay#i love my characters and i could put them in dozens of scenarios that would be very funny for them to deal with#but i dont think they need a five film series. the one movie is enough for the main storyline#ok im going to eat something. enough bitching from me about the current state of film
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zincbot · 7 months ago
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the hits stop coming and they don't stop coming
#every time i think i can't feel worse i discover a new blow#TO BE FAIR. IT'S PROBABLY NOT EVEN THAT BAD#i'm just like. really sensitive or something annoying like that#the worst part is that usually when i'm feeling low i can hinge my feelings on smth like 'if this happens that means everything will be okay#but then sometimes. it happens. and i still feel like the world is ending. so that didn't work now what do i do#ugh i didn't even feel this bad when i was like in the hospital a few months ago and it's literally just like. (in summary)#2 people i love are mad at me. i did really poorly in my exams and might lose my gpa. my car (highly attached) is breaking down and i need#get a new one#i start a new job tomorrow and i heard bad things about it from my classmates who started before me#+ i have serious doubts in my ability to dress neatly and well with all my shitty poorman clothes#+ i started breaking out#+ i just noticed i lost a bunch of weight likely from my hospital stay and i dunno how to get that back#+ my doctor said i'm not likely to get full mobility back at this point and it's upsetting me#also my spare tires are missing#ugh i'll be fine. i'll be fine i'll be fine i'll be fine. i'll be fine#i'm good at dealing BUT ONLY WITH SOME OF THESE. i can deal with the car and the job and the health. but interpersonal shit?#which is the thing upsetting me the most? wow surprise surprise local autist doesn't do people good#UGH anyway sorry for complaints on main i just feel like i got too many straws rn#it's 10:30pm i'm sure i'll feel better in the morning (ignoring the fact that i've been feeling almost exactly like this for days)#ugh. it's fine. i'll deal. only way out is through or whatever
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osaemu · 11 months ago
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GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW
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✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW
contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.
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“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”
satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.
two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.
“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”
“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone. 
the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.
“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”
you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”
“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”
“ugh, fine.”
two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.
“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”
satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”
“you’re not smooth.”
“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”
“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”
satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.
“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.
“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”
anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.
“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.
“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”
“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically. 
satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.
“what, we were just talki—”
“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short. 
“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.
“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.
“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.
he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”
“what?” you decide to humor him.
satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.
“this.” 
and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties. 
“gojo, what the—”
“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.
in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.
what a shame.
satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks. 
“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.
you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.
“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”
“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”
that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.
you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you. 
“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below. 
you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him. 
sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth. 
“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.
“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.
satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling. 
“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.
still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.
“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”
“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible. 
“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear. 
satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”
you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”
“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer. 
“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.
“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”
from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.
“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”
you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”
satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”
“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.
“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”
satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”
“you’re an asshole.”
before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states. 
“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump. 
suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”
“heh, no, not yet.”
ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 
“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.
well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!
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1800-fight-me · 2 months ago
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Future
Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: E (Explicit-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, explicit PiV sex as well as oral sex (M&F receiving), breeding kink, and daddy kink (oof) Word count: A little over 8.3k Synopsis: Logan goes back to the past in an attempt to save the world, but more importantly- you. (Set in X-Men Days of Future Past and switches between Logan and Reader's POV) Author’s note: Something about Logan makes me absolutely insane to the point that I wrote the longest most explicit sex scene I've ever written.... please enjoy P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist
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LOGAN’S POV
The future was dark and bleak. A war of uncontrollable violence, more than Logan had ever seen in his long life. 
The only bright spot in such a horrific future was you. You were the peace and rest his aching soul had long been searching for. 
It started as two people seeking solace and relief in one another, but the foundation of friendship created something so much more significant than either of you could have predicted. 
You became the planet around which he orbited. The home he never thought he’d find. The balm to his raging fire. 
Despite the hell that was life in the future, he had you. It was fitting that it caused the world falling to shit for him to finally find you. 
His self deprecating thoughts also told him that it was fitting that he lost you too. He didn’t deserve a love so pure and bright. He didn’t deserve such happiness when everyone else he cared about was either suffering or dead. 
All the blood on his hands left him marked, scarred, filthy down to his soul. But you looked past all of that, claimed you loved him anyway, claimed him. 
He was yours completely, worshiped at the altar of your affection, would go any lengths for you- do anything you ask. 
He would do anything to protect you, and it was the biggest black mark on his soul, after an extended lifetime full of mistakes, that he wasn’t able to protect you when it mattered the most. 
He shredded the sentinels, the unkillable soldiers in his rage, but one had slipped past his defenses, used your own healing powers against you and sucked the life right from you. Snuffed out your bright light all too soon. 
He killed, and killed, and killed- and it still didn’t bring you back. 
No one and nothing but him made it out of that abandoned warehouse that night. It was the tipping point for him, it made him bloodthirsty and reckless. It made him willing to go along with Charles and Eric’s ridiculous plan. 
As he laid down on the stone slab and allowed the young mutant to send him to the past, his thoughts were only on you. 
Everyone knew what his hopes were, but it went unspoken for fear it wouldn’t come true. Logan went back to the past with the desperate desire that he would wake up in a future in which you were still alive. A future he hadn’t already destroyed with the worst mistake he’d ever made. A better future. One you deserved, he would give you anything and everything you asked if he could bring you back. 
He woke in 1973 in the arms of a woman who wasn’t you, a woman he didn’t really remember. He hadn’t met you yet in 1973, unfortunately it would be a long while before he met you. And besides, he didn’t have time to search for you, he only had enough time for his mission. 
He could only hold onto the hope that he would see you again in the future, if he could change things for the better- if he could finally do something right. 
You were his motivation through dealing with younger versions of Charles and Eric, through all the missteps and mistakes, he tried his best to not lose hope. 
One last chance, after the mess that was Paris, this intervention was the only possibility of setting things right. 
They had to prevent Raven from killing Trask at this ridiculous anti-mutant presentation. Logan was inclined to agree with Raven at this point, but he knew the outcome of that decision and it was one he couldn’t live with. 
He and Hank made their way through the large crowds as Hank pushed Charles�� wheelchair, all focused only on their task at hand. Logan scanned the crowd, looking for Mystique despite the fact that Charles would be the only one able to find her. 
A voice met his ears, one that made his spine go rod straight. A voice he had unconsciously trained himself to seek out over years. 
“I really don’t want to be here,” the voice grumbled. 
Logan whipped his head to the left so quickly that if it was possible he probably would have given himself whiplash. 
It was you. 
His heart pounded harder than it had in the entirety of his two hundred something years. 
He stopped dead in his tracks and it was a force of will to not stare at you with his mouth hanging open. 
You looked different, but the same. You were younger obviously, your hairstyle and clothes were completely different, but that was you. 
His hand ached with the need to hold you, just one more time. 
“Please, I get extra credit for attending this thing and I can’t fail my government class,” the woman who he assumed was your friend whined as she clutched at your wrist. 
He did a mental tally in his head. Of course, he should’ve remembered that in the early seventies you were in a college not too far from Washington DC. It really wasn’t a huge coincidence that you would be here, but still it felt monumental. 
You looked over at her and huffed in resignation. 
God, you were cute, he thought. 
“Besides, maybe you can meet a handsome guy here. That would lift your spirits, wouldn’t it?” your friend said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. 
You rolled your eyes and said, “This isn’t a bar, Jenna. This is anti-mutant government propaganda bullshit.” 
As did so often, he agreed with you. 
She pouted at you. “Well what if I promise to take you to a bar right after this ends?” 
You looked over at her in exasperated fondness and let her pull you forward, closer to where Logan and Hank stood in the crowd. 
Hank was saying something to him, something he didn’t hear - his attention entirely on you, and he snapped his head back to Hank as he shook his shoulder. 
“What?” Logan snapped. 
“Who are you looking at? Do you see Raven?” Hank asked. 
Logan took a deep breath and said, “No. I’m looking at my wife.” 
“Oh no,” Hank muttered. 
“Logan you can’t-“
”It’s not safe for her here,” Logan growled. 
————————————————-
YOUR POV
“Look, that guy is looking at you,” Jenna whispered in your ear. 
You followed her line of sight and saw the most handsome man you’d ever seen. 
He was exactly your type and in tight jeans to boot. He was huge- tall and extremely muscular. His dark hair was the kind of neat disheveled that begged you to run your fingers through it. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses but you could feel his intense gaze through them. 
“Holy shit he’s good looking,” you murmured and your friend giggled. 
He looked over at who you assumed was his friend and you continued to take him in. You weren’t sure you’d ever checked out a stranger in such a blatant manner before. There was something about him so inviting, despite his tense posture and intense demeanor, that your mouth was practically watering. 
“The guy next to him is cute too. Maybe we should go talk to them,” Jenna said. 
You tore your eyes from the object of your lust, and looked at the man next to him. He was cute in a nerdy way- exactly Jenna’s type. There was a third man with them, he was in a wheelchair and had his fingers to his temple as he scanned the crowd clearly in search of something or someone important. 
“I think they’re coming to us,” you said as the nerdy guy walked towards you. 
But unfortunately, the one you wanted to come closer didn’t, he stayed with his companion in the wheelchair and bent down to whisper something in his ear. 
“Hey ladies,” the man in glasses said as he approached you and Jenna. 
She immediately began to smile and twirl her hair around her finger as she spoke with him eagerly. 
He introduced himself as Hank and you shook his hand and introduced yourself as well, but your eyes continued to drift behind him to the other man, the one who you felt an inexplicable tug toward. 
“What about your friend?” you asked, your words an interruption to whatever Hank had been saying to Jenna. 
Hank looked stressed, but you looked back at the large man only a stone's throw away. 
He looked up and made eye contact with you, he must have taken his sunglasses off while you weren’t paying attention. Never before had you felt so stripped bare by just meeting a man’s eyes, there was a whirlwind of emotions within them- something akin to familiarity, possibly even love, and hunger. 
It took several moments of drowning in his gaze before you regained your wits about you. You smirked at him. 
He crossed his arms over his chest, which made him appear even larger as his muscles flexed. He raised a brow at you, but his lips were upturned in a small smile as if he was smiling despite himself. 
You crooked a finger at him, an invitation to come closer. 
He smiled and shook his head slightly, almost as if he were reprimanding himself but also couldn’t help himself. He turned his head and said something to his friend in the wheelchair before he strutted over to you. 
Every long stride he took towards you led to a tightening in your chest. It wasn’t fear, no, it was yearning. There was something inside you that wanted- no, needed, to know him. 
Your instincts were all wrong, he looked like a predator closing in on his prey, something about him sharp and animalistic as he approached you, and yet you felt at ease, intrigued, safe. 
“Hi,” you breathed out as he reached you. He smirked and stood a bit closer than would be normal for a stranger, but you didn’t mind at all as you looked up at his towering figure. 
He introduced himself in a low gravelly voice that sent a shiver down your spine and hearing his name was like an answer to a question you didn’t even know you’d been asking. 
Logan. 
You told him your name and he had this secret smile as if he already knew what you were going to say. 
He repeated your name, and something in you changed forever at the sound of it on his lips. 
“How come you didn’t wanna come say hi?” You asked teasingly. 
He looked at you and you felt more at home than ever before, which you knew sounded insane, but you couldn’t deny the way he made you feel. 
“Oh I wanted to,” he said and warmth filled you as you smiled at him. 
“Logan,” Hank hissed as he elbowed him. 
You’d honestly forgotten that you and Logan weren’t the only two people in the world at that moment. You’d forgotten about Jenna, and Hank, and the teeming crowd of people around you. 
“I know,” Logan replied to Hank in a grumpy tone that made you huff a small laugh. 
“Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but you need to leave. This isn’t safe,” Logan said fervently as he placed a large hand gently on your upper arm. 
You scrunched your brows at him in confusion. 
“Is this some kind of ploy to get me to leave with you?” You joked. 
He chuckled, the sound from deep in his chest, and you grinned. 
“If only,” he said. “No, pretty girl, I have to stay here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m confused,” you said. 
His thumb rubbed up and down your arm in a way that was both comforting and familiar. 
He glanced over at your friend, and as he saw that she was deep in conversation with Hank, he leaned closer to you in order to whisper in your ear. 
“This isn’t a safe place for mutants,” he murmured, urgency in his voice. 
You pulled back enough to look into his eyes, shock evident in your expression. 
“How do you know-“ you gasped quietly. 
He shook his head, “I’m one too, I can explain everything later, but please- for your own safety sweetheart, please leave.” 
You met his gaze and something about the urgency and care you found in his eyes made you believe him. 
“I suppose I’ll take your word for it. There’s a bar across town called McClarin’s, will you meet me there tonight? You can buy me a drink and explain all this weirdness.” You said. 
There was a flash of something akin to sadness in his eyes, but he gave you a tight smile and said, “Of course, I’ll be there. I’d do anything you ask.” 
You believed him. 
So you turned your head to your friend and said, “Jenna, we’re leaving.” 
You ignored her protests and stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek. 
His hazel eyes fluttered closed, as if he were savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin. 
“Until tonight,” you said as you slipped your hand in Jenna’s. He nodded in agreement and you turned and walked away from him. 
“Why are we leaving?” Jenna complained. 
“They’re going to meet us at the bar later, we can watch the broadcast on the TV,” you said. 
She huffed but agreed as you led her out of the crowd and towards safety. 
A little while later you sat at the bar with Jenna- you ate pretzels and nursed a beer, and watched the news. 
Logan had been right, it was a dangerous situation for mutants. 
Tears filled your eyes and your heart dropped into your stomach as you watched as Logan was massacred by Magneto. His body was violently filled with pieces of metal and then thrown so far the cameras didn’t catch where he landed. 
He had to be dead, no one survived something like that. He saved your life and then didn’t survive the fight he protected you from. 
None of the news outlets had any information on your mysterious savior. 
You spent the evening calling both hospitals and morgues and no one had any knowledge of Logan or even a John Doe that matched his description. 
Weeks went by with no news. There was a hole in your heart, which seemed ridiculous considering you’d only met him once, but there was something about a promise unfulfilled. 
There was a feeling as if your future had been altered completely, as if Logan was supposed to be a part of it but now he never would be. 
————————————————-
Your mutant ability to heal others and yourself led you to work in a hospital as a nurse after you completed all of your schooling. 
Years passed and you met Storm when she literally landed in your hospital, as in she was thrown by an enemy and crashed through the ceiling. 
You stared at her in shock, then jumped towards her and used your powers to heal the gash in her stomach where blood had already begun pooling. She thanked you before flying off into battle once more. 
Once the fight was won, Storm came back and asked you to come with her to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. 
You were intrigued and soon found yourself as a professor of health sciences, part time school nurse, and an X-Man on the side. You weren’t much of a fighter, during missions you really mostly hung back and healed the injured X-Men as well as any civilians fought in the crossfire. 
It was a fulfilling life, one you enjoyed immensely, but something always felt like it was missing. You dated a bit but being so busy prevented anything deep. 
There was no spark, no instant connection with anyone like there had been with Logan. You supposed it really was a once in a lifetime experience. 
It didn’t help that you weren’t interested in anyone romantically that you worked with. Storm, who had quickly become a great friend, encouraged you to give Hank a chance when he pursued you. You tried, he was nice, but it just wasn’t love, and after a few months you ended it. Luckily you were able to remain as friends. 
Time passed and Professor X pointed out to you that you didn’t appear to age. At first you brushed him off as ridiculous, but eventually consented to let Jean run tests on you. 
As it turned out, your ability to heal yourself extended to things such as diseases and life’s natural course of aging. 
Eternity yawned its horrid mouth open before you and the loneliness of it threatened to swallow you whole. 
You took a leave of absence to avoid others seeing you in the midst of an existential crisis. You traveled for a couple of months, took time to see the world in a way you never had before, met beautiful strangers, and came to terms with the fact that it was likely you would never die, that any connections you did make would die long before you were ever ready. 
You decided to make the most of life, embrace the joy and the hurt, and returned home. 
As soon as you walked through the door of the mansion, everything felt different, but perhaps it was you that was changed so irrevocably. 
You made your way towards Professor X’s office and literally ran into a man as he walked out. 
“Ugh,” you groaned as your face squished into a broad chest. The body you slammed into was so sturdy the man didn’t even stumble, he merely placed large hands on your shoulders to steady you. 
“Woah there, speedy. You alright?” A deep voice said. Something about that voice tickled something in the back of your brain, a memory from years ago. 
“Sorry!,” you exclaimed as you stepped back and looked up to see his face. 
“Logan,” you breathed out in surprise as you finally saw him. He looked nearly the same as all those years ago. His hair and clothes were slightly different, but it was definitely him. He was as handsome as the day you lost him.
He raised a brow in confusion as he looked at you. 
“Have we met?” He asked. 
Your heart dropped into your stomach. The man of your dreams, the man you thought had died and yet you had continued to pine over for years, was standing before you and didn’t remember you. He didn’t remember meeting you, an experience that had been so cataclysmic in your life but apparently unimpressionable in his. 
“Yes, many years ago,” you breathed out. 
He looked you up and down and said, “Well, I really wish I remembered that.” 
You huffed a laugh to cover up the ache in your heart as you looked down at your feet. You told him your name as his hands finally slipped from your shoulders, you mourned the loss of his touch. 
As he repeated your name in that gravelly tone your heart thumped harder in your chest, despite yourself. 
“I don’t remember anything before a few years ago,” he said. 
“Oh?” You asked. Maybe it wasn’t that you were forgettable, it was just that he didn’t remember anything. 
“What happened?” You breathed out. 
Confusion and echoes of pain clouded his gorgeous hazel eyes. “I don’t remember, but I know it was painful,” he said. 
You placed a hand on his arm in comfort and said, “Maybe the professor can help you figure it out.” 
He nodded, “Not sure if I’ll be sticking around long enough. Being on a team isn’t really my thing.” 
“Sure it’s not,” you teased with a wink, thinking back to the team he was clearly a part of back when you met him. 
He grumbled something you didn’t quite catch at the same time Charles came out of his office to greet you. 
You bid Logan goodbye as you followed Charles into his office to catch up after your extended absence. 
Your heart still pounded from meeting Logan and you wore a grin you couldn’t prevent for several minutes. 
And to your delight, you found out later in the day that Logan decided to stay. You weren’t sure what the deciding factor was, but you were happy all the same. 
Maybe things would fall into place, perhaps your future could end up brighter than previously anticipated. 
————————————————-
LOGAN’S POV
Logan awoke, the same song playing on the radio, your song. He lurched out of the bed and stumbled out of the room. As he opened the door wonder filled him as he realized he was in the mansion. 
Children bustled past him as they went to their classes. Friends and family that were long since passed in his future smiled and waved at him as he walked through his home eyes full of wonder. 
It had worked, all the effort and pain had been worth it, everything was as it should be. The only question that remained was you. Where were you? 
He made his way to Charles’ office and sighed in relief when he saw him safe and alive. 
His old friend welcomed him back to the future, a better future. 
“Where is she?” He breathed out as Charles read his mind, getting a glimpse of his past. 
“She’s here, she’s safe, but Logan you should know-“ 
At that moment you walked into Charles’ office and if Logan wasn’t already sitting he would’ve fallen to his knees. He’d never seen such a beautiful sight. 
He breathed out your name like a prayer and you looked over at him. He didn’t even register the look on your face, he’d already made his way across the room and wrapped you in his arms. 
“Logan,” you squeaked out. “What the hell?” 
He lifted you up and buried his face in your neck. 
“Can’t breathe,” you huffed as you pushed on his shoulders in an attempt to get him to release you from the vice hold he had you in. 
He put you down and looked down at you, placed a hand on the side of your gorgeous face- it wasn’t until now that he took in your expression. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked. 
You pulled back from him again, even went so far as to push his hand from you and took a step back. 
“What’s gotten into you? Why the hell do you think you can just-” You asked in confusion, irritation coloring your tone. 
He cut you off as he blurted out, “What? I don’t understand-“ 
“Logan, in this timeline you and her broke up,” Charles said. 
“Broke up?” Logan asked with raised eyebrows, the words lacked any meaning to him. There was no future in which he and you were not together. It was inconceivable. 
“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. At the same time you asked, “this timeline?” 
You both looked at one another in confusion. 
“Sit, both of you, let me explain,” Charles said. 
Logan sat and watched your expression change from suspiciousness to utter shock as Charles explained that Logan was from a different future, a different timeline, and had replaced the Logan you knew. 
He didn’t remember anything after 1973, other than the horrible future he had come from. But he did remember the first time you met that day in Washington DC. Although for him that was far from the first time you’d met.
“That’s a lot of information. I think you broke my brain- that’s so confusing,” you breathed out. 
Logan’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he tried to gauge your reaction. 
You turned to him. “So in this future I’m guessing you and I are together?” 
Logan nodded. 
“Well not in this one,” you muttered and stood to leave. 
“Wait, princess - talk to me,” Logan pleaded as he grabbed your hand. 
You turned back and glared at him. “Logan, I don’t care which version of you it was, you broke my heart and I have no interest in sitting here listening to any more of this.” 
You yanked your hand from his and stormed out of the office. You left him feeling helpless and empty. 
He looked over at the Professor. “What happened?” He asked. 
“It’s still fresh. The others have found her crying multiple times over the last few days. I tried not to pry but-“ 
“You went into her head,” Logan guessed and Charles nodded. 
He prepared himself for the worst and the flicker of hope in his chest began to gutter. He would be devastated if after all of this he couldn’t be with you. 
“The two of you have been together for about five years, were close friends for years before that, but she ended it about a week ago during an argument. She wanted to have a child and you didn’t,” Charles explained. 
“That’s it? She wants a baby? I’ll give her a baby. I’ll give her whatever she wants, the version of me from this timeline must be a goddamn idiot,” Logan said sharply. 
Charles chuckled. “I spoke to the other you yesterday, he had come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a child, he was just letting his fears get in the way.” 
“I have to go talk to her,” Logan practically growled as he stood and stalked out of the office in search of you. 
It wasn’t difficult to find you. He had memorized the sound of your heartbeat, your scent, and was all too familiar with the salty tang of your tears. 
He found you in a bedroom he assumed was yours, he knocked and let himself in despite your garbled yell of, “Go away!” 
It was clear this was the makeshift room you’d moved into after the break up, your decorations were all in boxes, your clothes piled everywhere and spilled out of drawers, and everything all together more messy and haphazard than he knew you liked to keep things. 
You sat curled in the bed as tears streamed down your sweet face. 
“Go away Lo,“ you sniffled as you quickly wiped your tears away. 
“Oh, my sweet girl-“ Logan said in a gentle voice only you knew. 
“No, Logan I’m not yours anymore,” the words were weak and he could tell you didn’t even really mean them. 
He came closer to the bed and you glared at him but didn’t say a word as he sat down and pulled you into his lap. 
You sunk into his embrace and buried your face in his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly. 
Your fingers tangled into his shirt, your breaths were shaky, and a few more tears managed to escape. His heart ached at the pain you were in. 
“I changed the timeline of our universe to be with you. I’m not gonna let anything stand in our way. So, you want a baby, I’ll give you a baby. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I’ll give you anything you want, I’d do anything for you. I love you,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 
“But-“ 
“And before you ask, Charles told me that the Logan in this future had come to the same conclusion and was planning on making things right with you today. In every timeline, I want to make you happy.” 
He wiped the tears from your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 
“Did we ever talk about kids in your future?” You asked in a soft vulnerable voice. 
He held you tighter. 
“Only once, but it wasn’t a possibility for us, that future was too dangerous. So dangerous that I lost you. I wouldn’t survive losing you again.” 
At the pain in his voice you pulled back enough to meet his gaze. 
“Tell me about that future,” you asked gently. 
And so he did, every awful part of it as he held you in his arms and reminded himself that this was real, that you were safe and alive, that this was his new future. 
You wiped the tear that slipped down his face as you looked up at him in awe. 
“You did all that for me? For us?” You asked in wonder. 
“I’d do anything for you,” he said fervently. You placed your hand on the side of his face and his eyes fluttered closed as he finally, finally received affection from you after so long. 
He nuzzled his face into your hand, pressed his lips against the pulse point at your wrist, finally let himself sink into your intoxicating presence. 
You slipped your hand into his hair and pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips. The weight of time without you pressed in on him and his self control snapped, with one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist, he crushed you against his body and kissed you with desperation. 
He wanted to consume you, to sink inside you, to never be apart from you again. 
You made a high pitched sweet sound of surprise before you kissed him just as fervently. He groaned into your mouth at the taste of you as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 
It was absolute heaven. 
This kiss could have gone on for hours or perhaps only seconds, he didn't know, no time was enough with you. 
You pulled back and looked at him. “I love you,” you said. 
“I love you,” he groaned and pressed his lips to yours repeatedly. 
You breathed out a soft giggle at his expression of adoration. 
He tilted his head back to look you deep in the eyes once more and said, “Let’s make a baby.” 
You looked flustered and he thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. 
“Right now? I-“ 
“I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart. I want to. Wanna give you want you want,” he moaned as he kissed you again. 
“Missed you too,” you whimpered as his lips drifted across your jaw and down your throat. 
————————————————-
YOUR POV
It was all consuming. He was everywhere all at once as he laid you on your back and pressed himself on top of you. 
The weight and heat of him was both comforting and intoxicating. The last few hours had given you emotional whiplash, but it was Logan. 
Apparently he was your soulmate no matter the timeline. He kissed you as if he were drowning and you were his breath of fresh air. He said everything you’d been dreaming of, and more as he declared his love and promised to fulfill your every desire. 
There was nothing the two of you couldn’t overcome as a team. You loved him and he loved you, and maybe that was all that mattered. 
As he bit down on your neck, all other thoughts flew from your head, it was just him. You and him- forever. There would be no long lonely life, he would be by your side always. 
“Logan,” you gasped and he groaned against your neck as he continued to nip and suck at the skin there. He loved to mark you as his and the thought made your toes curl. 
As if he could read your mind, he said, “Tell me you’re mine.”
His tongue licked up the column of your throat and you panted, “I’m yours, Lo. Only yours.” 
“Marry me,” he murmured against your skin. 
‘What?” You breathed out as you placed your hands on either side of your face and pulled him back enough to meet his hazel gaze. His pupils were blown with a combination of love and lust which caused heat to fill your entire body. 
“Marry me,” he repeated, then pressed his lips to yours again. 
“Yes,” you gasped into his mouth. His fingers gripped your waist tighter as they slipped under your shirt and met your heated skin. 
“Let me make you mine forever,” he growled and you whimpered and nodded as you tugged at his t-shirt. 
He helped you pull it off him and you let out a soft groan as your hand explored his broad chest, then down his muscled torso as you followed the trail of hair that led to the vee partially hidden beneath his jeans. Your mouth watered as your hand reached his belt, and you saw the evidence of his desire for you straining against his pants. 
He snatched your hand right as you were about to reach his hardened length and you whined in frustration. 
“Please, Lo,” you breathed out and he smirked in that cocky way that made you want to either smack him or suck him off. 
“No, I’m gonna take my time with you, pretty girl,” he said as he pulled your shirt off, then immediately followed with removing your bra. You whimpered again at the feeling of his skin against yours as he leaned back down and kissed you. 
His lips trailed to your breasts and you moaned as he licked and suckled at your sensitive nipples. Your core heated and throbbed as you became slick with desire for him.
You gripped the muscles of his tensed shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 
You attempted to grind yourself against his hard cock but he bit down on your neck in reprimand. 
“Stop that,” he growled. 
You moaned in response and he chuckled darkly. Suddenly he sat up- and you squeaked in surprise at the sudden shift as he stood from the bed. Before you could respond, he yanked you to the edge of the bed and kneeled before you. 
“C’mon, be a good girl and I’ll reward you with my cock, I’ll fill you to the brim, give you a baby just like you want. You just have to be a good girl and let me make you come on my tongue, can you do that princess- hm?” 
You moaned at his words, nodding vigorously as he slid off your jeans and spread your legs before him. 
“Use your words,” he taunted as he rested your legs on his broad shoulders. 
His nose ran up, up, up the inside of your thigh until it reached your panties. He groaned deeply as he took in a deep breath- turned near feral at the scent of your arousal. 
“Yes, yes, I’ll be good, please- just please, Lo,” you babbled. 
Another deep noise from the back of his throat came from the sounds of your sweet begging as he used his teeth to pull your panties off. 
You gasped as his warm wet tongue licked up your gushing pussy, all the way from your hole to your throbbing clit. 
“You this wet just for me, princess?” He said, the words muffled against your cunt. He began flicking his tongue over the most sensitive part of you and you keened. 
Your back arched and you plunged your fingers into his hair, your fingers tangled in and gripped the brown and silver strands. 
“Yes, for you, only for you, always for you,” rambled. 
The squelching sounds of your cunt as he pressed two fingers inside mixed with your heavy pants and his groans to create the most erotic symphony you’d ever heard. 
Your whines reached a fever pitch as his fingers curdled and pressed against the spongy spot inside you that made you forget anything but his name as his tongue continued to flick and swirl around your clit. 
“Logan!” you moaned. 
“Missed this pretty pussy,” he growled. 
Heat filled you as electricity prickled up your spine. You writhed on the bed and pressed your cunt closer to his mouth.  
One of his large hands smacked your hip lightly in reprimand. He then laid his arm down across your waist to hold you still. 
“Thought you were gonna be a good girl, or do I need to stop,” he teased as he looked up at you and you moaned. 
You slick coated his lips and beard, his hair was disheveled from your hands, and his gorgeous eyes were blown with desire. 
“No, I’ll be good, promise,” you panted. 
He smiled at you, the kind of smile a predator gives their prey before they pounce, and licked you once again. 
You were completely at his mercy, pinned to the bed, his fingers inside you and his mouth on your cunt. 
You dug your heels into the muscles of his back in an attempt to urge him on.  
The tension inside you built and built as his tongue continued its ministrations. 
“M’gonna come, Lo,” you whined. 
“Good girl, come for me,” he replied then sucked on your clit. 
The pleasure was so intense as his thick fingers continued to hit that spot inside you that lightning ran up your spine and you came with a moan of his name. 
He continued to lick until you yanked on his hair in an attempt to pull his head away as his arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed and wiggling away wasn’t an option. 
He chuckled darkly as he pressed a final kiss to your bundle of pleasure then looked up at you. 
“Did I do good? You gonna reward me with your cock, daddy?” you asked. 
There was a heartbeat before he replied, where you worried you went too far as he looked at you in surprise.
But then came his response, “Fuck. Yes, sweetheart, you’re perfect. Daddy’s gonna give you his cock, gonna fill you up real good.” 
You whimpered in desire as he stood. You sat up and immediately began to yank at his belt. 
He smirked as he looked down on you- watched you in your desperation to reach his thick cock. 
Your mouth watered as you won your fight with his belt and zipper and yanked the jeans down enough to get a glimpse of his gloriously hard dick. 
Logan finally took pity on you and helped you to remove his pants altogether, which left him wonderfully bare before you. 
Good god, he was sexy- his rippling muscles glistened with sweat and you wanted to lick every inch of his skin. 
He lifted your face with a hand on your chin so you would meet his eyes once more. 
At the heat in his gaze you felt yourself gush even more. 
His thumb brushed across your bottom lip and you obediently opened your mouth. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you moaned softly as you sucked on it. 
“Shit, you’re killing me, pretty girl. Lay back, I need to be inside you,” he growled. 
You let him pull his thumb out of your mouth and looked up at him through your lashes. 
“Can I taste you first?” you asked sweetly. 
His eyes rolled back into his head and he gripped your chin tighter. 
“Course you can, my good girl gets whatever she wants,” he said then led your face closer to his cock. 
You wanted to live in this moment forever, your head fuzzy with ecstasy only he could provide and empty of anything but him as you were eager to please him. You wanted to be his - in every possible way. 
You wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and pressed a kiss to the tip as you looked up at him. His breaths stuttered and power rushed to your head. You had this big strong man literally in the palm of your hand as you gave him pleasure that nearly brought him to his knees as your tongue peeked out and you licked the sensitive underside of his tip. 
He groaned your name and that prompted you on as you opened your mouth and began to take in some of his length and suckled gently. 
You moaned at the salty taste of him in your mouth, and took him in deeper as your hand worked in tandem. 
“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured. 
You rubbed your thighs together in an desperate but fruitless attempt to generate friction as your clit throbbed again with need. There was nothing as delicious as the grunts and groans Logan made as you took him deeper into your mouth. 
His hand slipped from the side of your face to cradle the back of your head and you moaned around his length as he led you to take him deeper into your throat. You took deep breaths through your nose as you swallowed him, taking him in far enough that you no longer needed to use your hand and instead used your hand to gently cup his balls. 
“That’s it, doing so good f’me,” Logan groaned. 
The musky scent of him filled your nostrils as your nose brushed against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. His other hand began to flick and pinch at your nipple and you moaned around his length. 
His size was substantial, but you were used to it at this point and your head emptied, only Logan present in your mind, as you let him guide your mouth up and down on his cock as you sucked him deeper. 
It was everything you wanted and more, until he pulled you off him. A string of saliva connected from your bottom lip to his tip as you gasped for air and looked up at him. 
He wiped away the spit as he murmured out, “fuckin’ perfect.” 
You whimpered as he surged forward and kissed you, near feral with desire. 
“Logan,” you gasped as he manhandled you further back onto the bed and laid himself on top of you. 
He continued to kiss you, his lips moved against yours and you surged closer- your chin bumped his as you kissed him urgently. His tongue explored your mouth and electricity filled you. Your body was filled with desperation as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 
“Need you inside me, please daddy, need your huge cock inside me, need you to fill me up,” you pleaded as he began to kiss and suck on your neck. You knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care - it was only more evidence that you belonged to him. 
He chuckled darkly and said, “You sound so pretty when you beg, princess. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you.” He reached down and lined his cock up to your desperate hole and you whined in relief. 
Slowly, so slowly, Logan pressed himself inside you. Inch by inch he sunk his cock deep inside your cunt and the feeling was unlike any other. 
He caged you in with his large arms on either side of your head and you pulled his face down for another desperate kiss. 
Once he was seated fully inside you, it was as if all the franticness of the moment dissipated and you both felt the need to savor the moment, to extend it for as long as possible, to live in this experience of perfection for eternity. 
There were times that sex with Logan was rough and animalistic, but you both knew that this wouldn’t be one of those times. This was making love - this was a reunion, a reconciliation, a healing of hurts, a fusion of souls. 
You looked deep into his eyes and found home. 
You locked your ankles around his waist to keep him close, the desire to be as close to him as possible all consuming. His deep breaths pressed his chest against yours and there was nothing in the world but you and him. 
One of his hands stroked your arm as you reached up and placed your hand on the side of his face. The other rested against his shoulder as you gripped the muscles you found there. 
You caressed his cheek and ran your fingers in his beard. 
“I love you,” you whispered. 
His eyes became bright with emotion, he had the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen- dark green with rings of brown that held unconditional love for you. 
He murmured your name and it sounded like a prayer of devotion as it fell from his plush lips. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips. 
He pulled back enough to press his forehead against yours. 
“I love you more than anything,” he replied. 
You felt perfectly incandescently happy, so wonderfully full of him, and despite both of your desires for this moment to never end, you also needed him to move inside you. 
“Please, Lo,” you breathed out. 
He knew exactly what you meant and he braced his forearms on either side of your head and pulled his hips back. Logan pulled back enough that only the tip of his cock remained inside you, before he sunk back in slowly. 
Your breaths mingled with his and it felt as if the two of you were on an island of your own- as if you were the only two people in the world. 
There was a feeling of connectedness, as if the puzzle pieces had all finally fallen into place, as your heartbeat sped and began to beat in time with his. 
“You feel so good, so big,” you breathed out as he continued his slow steady pace. Again, and again, and again he pushed himself inside you. 
He moaned and kissed you again, this time messy and more urgent. 
The string of fate that connected the two of you pulled taunt, became stronger as a result of your union, as you declared to one another your infinite commitment and love. 
You clenched down as he increased his pace. 
“That’s it, that’s my good girl, so fuckin’ tight,” he said, his lips moved against yours as he imprinted the praise into your mouth. 
There was a delicious feeling of fullness as you felt stretched and stuffed to the brim with his cock, as your heart threatened to burst at the care he showed you. Your hands ran across his arms and shoulders, around and down to his back where your nails dug into the sweat slicked muscles you found there. 
He grunted and again increased his pace. Your thighs tightened around his waist and you held onto him more securely as he pistoned his cock inside you. 
There was no better feeling than when he was inside you. His cock repeatedly hit that spot deep within that made you see stars and you felt that familiar burning inside you begin to grow. 
There was no possible way to be closer to him. His face was buried in your throat, his chest pressed against yours and every thrust brushed your sensitive nipples against the hair there, your puffy clit felt shockwaves of every thrust as his groin grinded against it, the slick of your arousal coated you both- there was no possible way to be closer to him, and yet somehow you needed more. 
“Daddy, please,” you gasped. 
“Mhm, is this what my pretty girl needs?” 
He shoved a hand between your bodies and began to press tight circles against your throbbing clit. 
“Yes!” You let out a high pitched whine as you threw your head back let out a low groan as you clenched down on his thick cock. 
The squelching sounds of your joining bodies should’ve made you embarrassed, but white hot pleasure eroded all your senses. 
“C’mon pretty baby, come for daddy and then I’ll fill you up, I’ll make you full of me, make sure everyone knows you’re mine with my ring on your finger and my baby in your stomach. S’that what you want? Huh? You want everyone to know you’re mine?” he growled in your ear. 
“God, y-yes, Logan- fuck,” you stuttered out. 
He continued to fuck into you with those long harsh thrusts, the pace quick and intense as his finger drew tight circles on your overstimulated clit. It balanced you on the line of pleasure and pain, but his words pushed you over the edge. 
You gasped loudly, “M’gonna come!”
He grabbed your face and said, “Look at me.” 
White hot pleasure exploded through you. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared deep into his intense gaze as you came on his cock. 
He groaned along with you as you clenched down on him. 
“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he said and kissed you sloppily. 
You keened at the praise, your head fuzzy with ecstacy. Your nails again dug into his back as he continued to pump himself inside you as he chased his own release. 
His breaths came harder as his sweat slicked skin slid against yours. His hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise as his pace somehow increased. 
There was nothing you could do but take it. This-this was bliss, this was perfection. 
“Want you to fill me up, want you to come in me, please Lo,” you whined. 
He groaned and with one more deep thrust he pushed himself as far inside you as possible and came. He filled you up, with stuttered breaths and hips, he came until he had nothing else to give. 
You pulled your head back from his neck, where you had bit down- hard, and pressed a kiss to his lips. 
You could’ve sworn that the thread of fate, the connection between the two of you glowed in the aftermath. 
With a grunt, he flipped over onto his back as he held you tight, and kept you against him and pulled you on top of him as he kept his cock inside you. 
You rested your head against his chest. 
“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked. 
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as his large hand ran up and down your back.  
“Of course, princess. Anything you want.” 
And so you did. After all, time was a minuscule thing when the entirety of a new future together stretched before you. 
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clockwayswrites · 5 days ago
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The Birdritch's Nest part 25
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“That is a lot of plants,” Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.
“He has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,” Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.
“Why are you here again?”
“Because I have a car which is better to carry all of Danny’s stuff in than your bike,” Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.
Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. “You say ‘all Danny’s stuff’ like the list was long. The guy hasn’t exactly been demanding.”
“The ‘guy’ expects to actually go home in a few days,” Dick pointed out.
“And is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,” Jason retorted.
“Damian’s attached.”
“…I concede to your point,” Jason said once that thought sunk in. “Double the clothing asked for?”
“Basically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,” Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. “There, watering system turned on.”
“Congratulations, you’re a genius,” Jason drawled. “Now go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while you’re at it.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to be snooping,” Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.
Jason flicked him off. “Like you wouldn’t anyways. I just want to know what you find.”
“Only if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.”
“Deal.”
The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didn’t look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.
It was the first thing that Jason picked up.
The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to… a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasn’t in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue but he just couldn’t get it out.
Maybe some sort of dialect?
Jason couldn’t actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?
“Hey Jay?” Dick interrupted, scattering Jason’s thoughts. “Can you read the label on these bottles? There’s some serious printing issues happening, I can’t even tell what language it’s in.”
The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jason’s hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.
“Oh, that’s the same thing Danny is writing in here,” Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. “It’s something about wings and getting old, I think, but I can’t really read it.”
“Read it? I don’t even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,” Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. “The whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasn’t it?”
Jason gave a little huff. “Do you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.”
“Yeah… guess I really can’t,” Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. “Any idea what it is?”
“Nope. It’s like it’s a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?” Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. “Maybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.”
“Cass or Damian might now it then,” Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.
“Don’t, trust me,” Jason said. “Did you get the medications you needed to grab?”
“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I don’t recognize on it, someone called Phantom.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,” Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. “Check the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.”
Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.
“So, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,” Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. “Maybe he hasn’t had time to find any yet? It hasn’t been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe he’s just always home when he’s had then?”
“Better let Alfred know then. He’ll want to get something as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, good point,” Dick agreed.
While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didn’t know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didn’t need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Danny’s bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.
“Okay, Alfred is on it,” Dick said. “Anything else we need to do?”
“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. “Let’s get going, I’m hungry for whatever dinner is.”
“You’re always hungry,” Dick said.
Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re a trash pit.”
“Yeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?”
“Leave my cereal out of it!”
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AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...
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badgertracksart · 1 year ago
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Portfolio advice, from a lead who hires Concept Artists
(This was originally a twitter thread I wrote before the site self imolated, hense it's strange structure.) I wrote this after a weekend of portfolio reviews - 1. Like a maths exam, please please show your working. I want to see thumbs options, mid options and of course a final design.
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2. Arrange your portfolio, I don't want to bounce about between subject matter and pipeline. Your portfolio's narrative should be as strong as your work... 3. Please make worlds that excite the viewer, make them want to go in and explore them, explain to them the interesting parts of the town, or the way the character's hat unfolds. How will this draw the viewer in? 4. As I've said before the majority of your project work is explanatory not mood, make sure your portfolio contains explanatory work. Explained here -
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5. A lot of beautiful post apocolyptic paintings, , but 80% of realistic games and film, we just give the environment artists photo ref, they are capable artists in their own right. Different work in stylised where you do need to create rules for how things can be translated. 6. Production art contains call out sheets, material references and flat graphics. This doesn't have to be your final image, but it should support it.
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7. Design characters on a swatch(es) of the environment they will be viewed in. Not on white. I make swatch backgrounds from screenshots, it avoids assumptions that damage readability. 8. Reverse of this, put people in your environments, show me the scale.
9. It's not a deal breaker for a review, but if you intend to get a job, please show me your work on a screen larger than a smartphone (print outs probably the cheapest option with the best battery life). 10. Please have your contact details clearly visible, and by that I mean email address, I will not pass your social media contact on, I cannot input your form into my tracking system. EMAIL ADDRESS emblazoned and bake it in, sometimes recruiters do funky stuff to pdfs
11. Your portfolio will never feel done, not to you anyway. You will have learnt from your latest pieces and want to apply it to older work. But we know art is a journey. Send your portfolio anyway. I've been in the industry 10+ years and my portfolio is still not 'finished'. 12. If you are applying to an environment centric Concept Art position then please vary your times of day! Golden hour is cool but show me some happy sunny days, looming overcast days, what about at night? Vary your weather too! Sunny snowy day? Rainy Spring day? Stormy night?
13. If you are applying for a character centric Concept Art role then please ensure your portfolio shows a variety of body types and ethnicities. 14. Designing characters for games? Please show back views and feet (!) Many potfolios contain only front views. This is a problem because:
You haven't shown you are considering the design from all angles.
In many games rear view is the main view.
Stop cropping feet.
15. If you are entry / graduating and looking at Portfolios to compare content and standard of yr own work too, look at hired grad/junior artists as opposed to seniors Seniors and leads often have old or personal work in their portfolio which isnt representative of the day job. 16a. Show clearly the intended use case for your Concept Art. Mention the game type in the description. Are these player character designs for a 3rd person adventure game? Then more back views please. Bonus points for diagetic ways of showing health / equipment / role etc.
16b. Are these designs for an FPS? Then really the player view of the gun needs to sell the player style/ choices, in an FPS your weapons are almost your character. Are these world designs? What's the view distance? For an RTS your shapes need to read from above & a distance. 16c. The lack of clarification means I am judging the design in isolation, which both harms the design (you might be considering the backview of a char as the main adventure character.) Or an NPC, their waist up expressions may be important for conveying exposition and mechanics.
16d. Concept art is not separate from gameplay, great concept art serves the game team before it is a good illustration.
17. Play games. A variety of games. Think about them. IMO to be a good concept artist you need to understand the common language & references used by your peers. Also understand the principles and common language your audience are used to. FPS design rules are v.diff from RTS.
18. There are many skills that are needed in concept art, please show them. For example: Graphic design - logos, liveries, typographic use etc. VFX concepts - Abilities, Ambience, motion concepts. Architectural knowledge - How buildings are built! & more but I'm out of space :O
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grimrester · 7 months ago
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i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.
i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.
anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:
"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."
employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.
of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.
this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.
"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."
no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.
and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.
a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.
(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)
a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.
did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.
"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."
i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.
look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.
and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.
they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?
bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.
schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.
they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.
really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.
and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.
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FINALS - Catholic Character Tournament
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Propaganda below ⬇️
Wolfwood
I love him. Man who has no faith in himself or humanity or god with so much blood on his hands, fighting for something he knows he can never see come to fruition in person. He carries his own literal cross and grave marker on his back. Just… he’s so iconic to me.
I'm sure I'm not the first to submit him. But I did it anyway. I hope he wins and I'll do anything in my power to make sure he does
Dude is literally a priest who carries around a giant cross. Yes he uses the cross to murder people but that is besides the point. Also he has a mini church he carries around for on-the-go confession services.
hes literally a priest(hes not a priest in the reboot but he is in the original and thats what matters to Me). he carries around a cross that is actually secretly a gun with guns inside that gun. he runs a church/orphanage. he carries around a portable confession booth and charges people money for it because he is broke as fuck. he dies bleeding out over an alter begging to god for forgiveness he doesnt think he deserves. he is everything to me.
look at this man he's a priest with a cross shaped gun that (spoilers) dies against the side of a church while waxing poetic about life and redemption (/spoilers), this is the Catholic ever.
Wolfwood is liiiiiterally Judas coded in the text. AND his weapon is a massive cross that turns into a machine gun and a LASER. Not to mention his religious trauma. Oh baby. The religious trauma.
Homeboy literally walks around with a giantass 300lb machine gun shaped like a cross called the Punisher. Hes a priest/undertaker depending on what version of trigun you reference. Grew up in a church orphanage. Also literally walks around with a portable confessional box for people to pay to confess to him. Need i say more.
HE IS LITERALLY JUDAS. he is literally leading the jesus allegory to his doom. hes also in love with the jesus allegory (vash). he is also carrying arouns a giant cross rhat is also a gun. hes literally catholic and judas and his tits are perfect. in one piece of official art he's wearing a cross choker. also the catholicism on gunsmoke is about making vash submit. wolfwood looking at that pathetic wet mess of a man oh i can make him submit easily.
He literally carries around a giant cross and is referred to as a priest by multiple characters. also he offers people confessionals
He carries a huge machine gun that is in the shape of a cross that is really heavy (he is strong) and his boobs are huge. So you know hes serving cunt in a god honoring way. Also in trigun 1998 he brings around a small chapel that he uses as a portable confessional and in trigun stampede he holds funeral services as an undertaker which are way overly priced. Also he dies very gayly (basicly confessing his love to his best boy friend forever)
Nick's funny bc he's probably the least Christian acting guy but is literally a preacher. There's a running gag with Vash asking some variation of "what the hell kinda churchman are you?" His gun is a gigantic cross. He rides a shitty motorcycle in the middle of the desert.
ok so thematically the main conflict in trigun is about peace vs violence and its represented by the characters vash and knives respectively. the two aren't /technically/ angels but thematically and through imagery they are and are comparable to michael and lucifer specifically. ANYWAYS. vash and knives are the characters who are constantly pushing and pulling at wolfwood's morality, sort of like a "the devil and god are raging inside of me" kinda deal. his grappling with his morality and faith is a big factor in his character. also he has a giant fucking gun shaped like a cross. and he dies in a church while praying.
Bros an orphan who grew up at a Catholic orphanage and taken away to be trained and genetically changed into a supercharged assassin for interworldly beings that have lots of angel imagery attached. Guy thought he was just going to be taken to become a missonary...instead he got 6 years of religious trauma. He still wears a cross necklace and holds it often. His gun is a literal cross "full of mercy" (its a missile launcher). He never really believed fully in the faith or anything, but the way he interacts with it is FASCINATING. He's jaded by the planet he lives on and his upbringing, and makes him say his most iconic quote: "We're nothing like God. Not only do we have limited powers, but sometimes we're driven to become the devil himself." He prays to a God he doesn't know if he actually believes in, asking for another day— for hope for the human race. The organization hes part of (The Eye of Michael) works for an interdimensional otherworldly being that has an incredible amount of angelic metaphor and imagery attached who intends to purge the planet of humans... and ends up siding with that guy's twin brother who is so Jesus coded it's insane. They are best friends even as Wolfwood is acting under instructions to babysit and watch him for his twin brother. He dies after facing down against his old mentor (named Chapel) and his pseudo brother from the orphanage who was taken into the Eye as well and his Jesus bestie buries him and sticks his cross-gun in the ground after losing his shit crazy style and using his pseudo alien angel Jesus powers to lash out at his brother for being the cause of Wolfwood's death. Rest in peace king
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via @monvment
Sister Michael
She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.
joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?
she does love a good statue it has to be said
She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3
sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.
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innerfare · 8 days ago
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Killer Relationship Headcanons 
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Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Killer
Genre: Fluff
CW: None // SFW
———
Killer fell first and fell harder. He didn’t realize it was happening at first, he was just as shocked as you were to realize he turned into a rabid dog when anyone so much as mentioned your name, fighting anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. Even more shocking was the sweeter side you brought out of him. 
You had no idea what was happening in Killer’s head. To you, Killer was just a crew mate, and not just any crew mate: the first mate. You had the wherewithal to clock the man in the mask as emotionally unavailable and that was that. Sure, you often went for drinks together, but only with the whole crew, and yeah, you laughed at the same jokes and ate the same meals, but it was as crew mates, the lines clearly drawn and the knowledge that he was dangerous always in the back of your head. 
But then he started doing things for you. 
He started making a different side at dinner because the one he was serving everyone else wasn’t something you would eat. He started giving you the best piece of dessert, much to Kid’s chagrin. He started stepping aside when it came time to board the Victoria Punk to allow you to board first. He started scaring off men at pubs and taverns before they ever got the change to be rejected by you. Oh, and he started intervening in all of your fights. 
You take the fighting bit personally, never having considered he was into you. You think he’s just underestimating you, thinking you can’t hold your own in a fight. This leads you to confront him one night, more than prepared to duel him to prove your worth as a pirate and warrior. He shocks you by coming clean and confessing his feelings for you, though not exactly in a romantic way. It’s more like he’s pissed off by your accusations and snaps at you that he can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. He storms off afterwards. 
It takes you a few days to process what he told you because it makes you see him in a completely different light. Gone is the cold-blooded killer you shared a ship with, here is the man who has been taking care of you in small ways without you even realizing. And the most shocking part is how the idea of him stopping makes your chest ache. You grew accustomed to his affection without even realizing. 
You wait until around midnight, when you know he goes into the shower alone, and follow him in. He lets you see him without his mask, and you share your first kiss. That’s that, and from that point forward, the two of you are an item. 
The shower becomes the main place the two of you spend alone time together. Killer finds it easier to let his guard down. He’s going to take his mask off anyway to wash up, which makes it easier to do with you around. He’s able to convince himself it’s not a big deal, and the fact that you’re so cool about it helps. His face is a secret the two of you share, as are his kisses and kind words and difficult past. 
You’re his safe space and he’s yours. 
Don’t expect him to stop intervening in your fights now that you share his bed every night. He claims it’s because you’re too slow and he got to the enemies first, or because you looked like you already had your hands full, but you know the real reason he jumps in. 
He always keeps one of the counters clear in the kitchen so you can sit on it while he cooks. Everything that lands on the table is tasted by you first. 
Merciless teasing by Kid (he’s just jealous). 
After he eats his fruit, you realize not all of his laughs are the same, and you learn to read his emotions based on the different laughs, speaking a language he hates but is oh so grateful to you for learning. 
This is the sort of thing your relationship is built on- subtleties. It’s what made him fall in love with you and it’s the reason he would kill or die for you. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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princessbrunette · 5 months ago
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rafe loved to remind puppy!reader of where she stood.
it felt gross and evil for him to be berating you in your own bedroom for once. you weren’t shrouded in the cold yet familiar atmosphere of tanny hill, accepting each blow — you were in your warm bedroom, your safe space, with your stuffed animals watching your boyfriend do unspeakable things to punish you.
when you got overexcited, sometimes you couldn’t stop. whether that be with the words flying out your mouth, or your hands grabbing and gripping at rafe when you shouldn’t be — more times than not, it got you in trouble. clearly, you’d pushed your luck. rafe had wiped you up, dressed you up and dragged you along to some insanely high class event at the club, and what did you do? pout and grab at him the whole time. now, he had to teach you a lesson in keeping your hands to yourself.
that’s how you end up sat on his lap on your vanity chair. you lean back against him because that’s all you can do with your hands tied behind your back with the tie he was wearing. your tearful whines are muffled too, the eldest cameron having yanked your panties off to muzzle you with them, stuffing them into your mouth until you gagged and threatening you not to spit them out. drool leaks from the fabric and you sniffle, watching the main event.
rafe sits with his legs spread wide, your body hanging off one of them, as he slowly jerks himself off.
“—and, and i don’t even know why you’re crying, alright you forced me to do this… to teach you a lesson for bein’ so fuckin’ handsy. now, okay, now you don’t get to touch me at all. congratulations.” he lectures you, still clearly pissed off but all flushed in the face from arousal as he swipes his thumb over his leaking tip.
you try to apologise and beg him to let you taste him just a little, but it comes out a garbled spitty mess through the fabric of your pretty pink panties that he’d carelessly pulled up your legs this morning when he was ensuring you were presentable enough to bring with him.
“shutuuup. think m’gonna take pity on a pogue who can’t follow orders? remember who the fuck you’re dealing with here alright, just because you’re my girl doesn’t mean i’m gonna let you get away with shit. wouldn’t be doin’ my job.”
despite how nasty he was being, you can’t help but melt a little every time he calls you his girl. it was sick how you clung onto the slightest approval or compliment from the man who kept you on such a tight leash. you tip your head back against his shoulder with a whiny groan, your cunt surely having leaked onto his pants by this point. you feel his hand on the back of your neck gripping you, forcing you to watch.
“nah, nah you fuckin’ keep your eyes on me yeah? you should be thanking me… because— because i’m the one who keeps you in check. me, rafe. without me you’d… shit, you’d be runnin’ around the cut with those pogues. i’m teaching you discipline here. you’re welcome.”
you whimper something out, which is of course muffled — and he sighs, deciding to relent a little. he lets go of his cock briefly to pull the material from your mouth, nose turned up as he tosses the wet fabric to the side. “speak.”
“thank you, rafey.” you croak, doe eyes filled with hope and admiration for the man despite everything. he sighs, gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a wet kiss, teeth nearly clashing as he smushes his mouth to yours. you moan desperately against him, understanding this is probably all the contact you’d get tonight. rafe was cruel after all, after he came he’d probably leave your house to go run some rafe-errands around town, leaving you crying and humping the pillow on his side of your bed.
he pulls back, hand back on his dick in no time as he cranes to hold your gaze. “whatever. now you’re gonna watch me cum, a’ight? you can’t afford to touch me right now, so looks like i gotta do this shit myself.”
it was a blessing to watch him come undone anyway.
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bucksangel · 1 year ago
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milk and sugar
pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au part two
word count: 5.1k
summary: “Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one. And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “no.” or - it’s your first date with your alphas.
warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, reader has insecurities, steve and bucky are adorable and caring, steve is very nervous bc he’s a romantic, like it’s almost unbearable how much of a pure puppy he is, bucky is extremely fond and a little teasing (bc of course he is), omegaverse, kissing, there are bits where it’s just steve and bucky
a/n: this fic doesn’t contain smut, however, due to the nature of my blog this is strictly 18+
milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar
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‘Good morning, darling.’
That’s the text you received from Bucky at nine that morning - in the group chat he’d made with Steve and you. And while you normally sleep in on Sundays since your studio is closed, you’d woken up early - seven to be exact -  due to the anxiety you’ve been feeling ever since your art class ended yesterday.
Truthfully, you didn’t really sleep well anyway. Going on a date with not just one, but two Alphas at the same time has you on edge - though, not in a bad way. No, not at all. These are the good kinds of nerves, the exciting kind.
Well, okay, not all of your nerves are positive. Being naturally shy and reserved has caused you to overthink every single interaction you’ve had with the Alphas, both together and separately. And now that you’re going on this date, you can’t help the way your insecurities come creeping in faster and faster as it gets closer.
Because what if they decide they don’t like you after they actually get the chance to know you? What if they don’t even pay much attention to you and treat this as a date with just them since that must be what they’re more used to? What if you say or do something wrong and they get scared away?
Now, logically, you know those first two outcomes are absurd. Over the past few weeks, they’ve each shown extreme interest in getting to know you, they show how much care they have for you, and oh boy does that knowledge make your heart flutter. It makes you feel good, really good about yourself.
But that last point? Well, that is a big insecurity of yours. As a child, you weren’t that open and didn’t have many friends. And it was hard to make new ones when you would always stutter and trip over yourself, causing many of the kids you’d gone to school with to laugh at you. You were so shy, always the shortest kid in your class which made you an easy target for bullying, especially since you couldn’t hold a conversation well and you’d constantly accidentally bump into someone. It’s honestly a surprise that Tori had stuck around this long.
And, to be completely honest, you think you could deal with them maybe not finding you as interesting as they probably thought, maybe even them telling you that it just wouldn’t work out. Yes, it would hurt for a while, but you would deal with it. However, you absolutely could not live with the Alphas finding you annoying. Because this whole thing already feels like a fever dream, and if you were to fuck it up by doing or saying something embarrassing it would only serve as proof that you aren’t fit for Alphas like them.
It’s nine-fifteen when you respond with ‘good morning :)’
And not even a minute later, Steve texts back. ‘how are you feeling about today?’
Well, isn’t that a good question? Because you want nothing more than to go on this date, you want this to work out so badly that you feel like your heart might burst out of your chest. But, again, those fucking insecurities are messing with your mind.
It’s maybe a few minutes later when you reply with ‘Feeling okay, you guys?’
A bubble pops up at the bottom of the text thread, Bucky typing for a good thirty seconds before it disappears. And it stays like that for another full minute, your heart hammering in your chest as your anxieties are jumping to the worst possible outcome. What if they cancel? What if they-
Your phone screen comes to life when Steve calls you. He’s calling you. And for a moment you want to let it go to voicemail, you don’t want them to hear how nervous you are. But you also don’t want them to think you’re ignoring them, so you answer with a timid, “Hello?”
“Hi, honey,” Steve says calmly, his smooth voice doing a good job of soothing some of your worries.
“Hi!” You hear Bucky yell in the background, causing you to giggle.
“Hi, guys.”
You hear a thud in the background before Bucky yells “Put her on speaker, punk!” And then you can hear both of them clearly, Steve laughing as Bucky huffs in what you assume is a fake annoyance.
“So, uh, I’m just wondering. Um, where are we going today?” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so awkward, for tripping over your words while talking to the two most handsome Alphas you’ve ever met.
“That’s a surprise, honey,” Steve says, the smile on his face is evident in his tone. “Just wear something comfortable.”
“And warm!” Bucky adds, coming closer to the phone. “We don’t need you getting cold, okay?”
The hint of authority in his voice makes your heartbeat pick up speed and the care that’s so evident in just the way he speaks kind of makes you want to cry a little. When was the last time any potential partner showed even these small acts of concern for your well-being? Too long.
“Yes, sir,” You joke, having to bite your lip to keep your smile from widening even further when both Alphas laugh. Butterflies are swirling in your stomach, forming a tornado of anticipation and nerves for the day’s festivities.
“Alright,” Steve says with a hint of laughter. “We’ll let you go get ready and we’ll pick you up in two hours, okay?”
Two hours? That seems like too long yet not long enough. You’ve already showered, all you really need to do is find something to wear and then fix your hair - maybe throw on some mascara. But, still. Two hours seems like the perfect amount of time to have a full-on breakdown over this date. But at least that should also give you some time to recover from said breakdown.
“Yeah, that works!” Internally, you cringe at how eager you sound. Because even though you’re nervous beyond belief, and a tiny part of you wants to cancel the date out of fear of anything embarrassing happening, you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let these two slip through your fingers without giving it a fighting chance. 
“Great,” Bucky says, clearly smiling. “Just send us your address and we’ll be there.”
Once you bid your goodbyes to each other you make sure to send them your address before deciding to freak out over what to wear. Luckily for you, and as though the universe knows you need the help, your doorbell rings soon after. Confused as to who would be at your door this early, you make your way to the door, and when you open it you see Tori standing on the other side with a wide smile.
“Alright, girl,” She says happily, ignoring the incredulous look on your face as she pushes past you to walk into your apartment. “We have to get you ready, where are they taking you?”
“Hello to you too, Tori,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes as you close the door.
“Hey, babe!” Tori grabs your wrist and all but yanks you towards your room, not really caring about the fact that you’re nearly tripping over yourself in an effort to keep up. When you both get to your room she lets go of your arm and heads for your closet.
“So, where are you guys going?”
“I don’t know, they just said to dress warm and comfortable.” Your shoulders shrug, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. You’re not too sure what exactly to wear based on those being the only two requests. Sure, you have plenty of sweaters and jackets and scarves - it’s New York after all - but you don’t know what will impress the Alphas.
You want to impress them so badly. You don’t want them to regret asking you out, and while clothing choices aren’t a ‘make or break’ type of thing it’s still important to you that you look the best you possibly can. After all, anyone who’s seen Steve and Bucky in person would agree that they’re most definitely the two most handsome men to ever exist.
Something soft hitting you in the face knocks you out of your thoughts.
“Hey!” You yelp, looking at the ground to see the thing that hit you - your light brown sweater with a cute graphic of a pumpkin patch on the front. Seconds later, a pair of leggings hit your chest. “Tori!”
Tori simply laughs, then heads to your shoe rack next to the closet door.
“How do you know this will be good for the date?” You ask as you pick up the sweater to inspect it as though you haven’t worn it hundreds of times. But, again, today needs to go perfectly so any stains you might’ve missed would not go down well with you.
“I don’t,” She admits with a shrug of her shoulders. “But that sweater accentuates your boobs and the leggings make your ass look great.”
Your whole body goes hot, the implication of them looking at those parts of your body doesn’t make you shrink away like it normally would, though you can barely stop your insecurities about your body from throwing the items to the side and picking something else to prevent that from happening.
“I-I don’t know, Tori…” You sigh, going over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. “What if they don’t like it? I mean, they’re-”
“Stop it,” Tori says forcefully, walking over to stand in front of you. “You’re beautiful and kind and wonderful and they’re going to love you. And if they don’t, then that’s not your fault. As long as you give it your all, everything will be fine.”
Coming closer, she places her hands on your shoulders so she can shake you a little bit. “I love you, girl. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. And it seems like they make you happy, but you make them happy too. I’ve seen it in the way they look at you, how they talk to you. It’s going to be fine, babe. I promise.”
After a long pause where you think over her words, you decide that she’s right - at least about your feelings. You like them so fucking much, so it wouldn’t be fair to them or yourself if you didn’t try your best.
“Okay… Okay, then. Let’s get me ready.”
And with that, Tori smiles brightly, leaning down to squeeze you in a tight hug before releasing you.
____________
It’s a few minutes before eleven when Bucky and Steve park out front of your apartment building. Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin, Bucky even had to convince his mate that he should drive to pick you up since Steve could barely keep his knees from bouncing.
“Baby,” Bucky says, shutting off the engine and twisting in his seat to face Steve. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to just be ourselves and treat her like she deserves, there’s no way she’s going to not like us.”
Steve nods, though he doesn’t look super convinced. It’s clear from how he spent fifteen minutes this morning in the flower shop picking out the perfect bouquet for you that he really, really wants this to work. And even though he doesn’t show it, Bucky knows Steve would be heartbroken if it didn’t. His mate’s always been a softie, and there’s something about you that makes him feel different - better than any other omega ever could.
Bucky knows exactly how he feels. Because, although he’s not as outwardly anxious, he just knows that you’re perfect for them, and he wants to do everything he can to make you see that they can take care of you, they can protect and love you. Your smile and sweet giggle haunt his dreams, his nightmares have long been replaced with his memories of him and Steve - and now you. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you and his Alpha, to cuddle with you two in your nest as you all trade kisses and talk about anything and everything.
“You’re sure?” Steve asks with a timid voice, fiddling with the flowers in his lap. “I - we really like her.”
Bucky sighs, then reaches over the console to place his hand on the back of his mate's neck in a comforting manner. And even though it’s uncomfortable, Bucky leans over and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.
“I’m sure, Stevie.”
Steve sighs too, leaning forward to kiss Bucky again before pulling back.
“Okay, Buck.”
With that, they both share a small smile and then get out of the car. It’s about a minute-long elevator ride up to your floor, Bucky holding his mate’s free hand the entire way and sending him feelings of calmness through their bond. It works until they get to your front door because now Steve is practically fumbling with the flowers as he figures out the best way to hold them while Bucky knocks.
It’s about a minute later when the door swings open, but it’s not you. It’s Tori with a wide, knowing smirk on her face.
“Hello, boys,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Those for her?” She nods towards the sunflowers and daisies Steve is holding.
“They are,” Bucky says with a smile of his own. Glancing at Steve to see him nod. “Is she ready?”
“Yes!” You say, quickly running up behind Tori to gently push her to the side and give her a side glare. You’re fiddling with your clothes, tugging at the bottom of the sweater in order to smooth out the fabric.
However, in the Alphas’ eyes, there’s no need for you to do so. Through their bond both of them feel the other go kind of dumb - you always look pretty but today’s outfit just hits them differently. Your eyeliner makes the color of your eyes pop, and the shiny lipgloss makes your lips nearly impossible to not kiss.
They don’t, though. Not yet. The last thing either of them wants to do is make you uncomfortable, especially with Tori standing behind you. So, instead, Bucky smiles and elbows Steve to get him out of his trance.
“Hello, honey,” Bucky says, his smile turning into a smirk when you fail to suppress a squeak.
“H-hi, guys,” You say nervously with a small smile. “Are those for me?” You ask when you notice the flowers in Steve’s hand.
“Oh, um, yes,” Steve stutters ever so slightly, reaching out to hand you the bouquet. “You once said you love Sunflowers.”
____________
“You once said you love Sunflowers.”
Something about this gesture makes you want to tear up. Flowers may not be a big deal to some people, but they mean everything to you. Receiving gifts from partners has been rare for you, so the beauty of the petals and knowing that they’re for you just makes you preen a little bit.
“I do,” You say softly, almost like you can’t believe he remembered. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Really.”
“Just like you,” Steve blurts out before a redness covers his cheeks.
And you absolutely cannot be blamed for the embarrassing squeak you let out. You try being called beautiful by Steve fucking Rogers and not want to bury your face in his neck to inhale his scent.
“Th-thank you,” You say with a giggle, handing the flowers to Tori and giving her a grateful smile as she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek.
“You guys have fun,” She teases, waving you off with a smile. “Treat her well or you’ll have hell to pay.”
“Of course,” Bucky says with an assuring nod. “Wouldn’t treat her with anything but care.” He says this while looking at you though, the twinkle in his eyes making you want to bare your neck to him.
When the door closes behind you, you step closer to the Alphas.
“Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring, though clearly a little anxious. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one.
And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “No.” How can you be nervous now when the feeling of the men’s warm hands on you and their clear concern for your wellbeing makes your heartbeat quicken in anticipation?
“Let’s go?” You ask, face growing warm in slight embarrassment for your enthusiasm.
“Let’s go,” Both Alphas say in unison. And then all of you are off to the truck - a very nicely kept, sleek black truck. Steve opens the back door for you before, to your surprise, sliding in next to you.
“We agreed he could sit in the back with you on the way there as long as I could sit next to you on our way back,” Bucky pipes up at your questioning glance.
Feelings of warmth fill your entire being, and you already know that today is going to be the most fun you’ve had in a while.
____________
It’s about a thirty-five-minute drive before you finally arrive at a park - a beautiful stretch of the greenest grass you’ve ever seen with orange and red-leafed trees surrounding two sides of it. It’s big, but if you look close enough you can make out a trail off to the left. That half hour was, surprisingly to you, filled with pleasant conversation. Now, your previous interactions with the men proved that they were wonderful company, but you’re surprised that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. Everything was moving smoothly, there wasn’t even a single moment of awkward silence.
“We’re here,” Bucky says, pulling into a free parking spot closest to the entrance of the trail. Steve opens the door as Bucky gets out as well and goes around to the back of the truck. And Steve, ever the gentleman, holds your hand as he helps you climb out of the backseat, only letting go when you begin smoothing out your clothes.
“Are we ready?” Bucky appears next to you holding a large blanket and a stereotypical wicker basket.
A small smile forms on your face, and your heartbeat increases ever so slightly. How are they so fucking sweet?
“Yes!” Immediately, your face goes hot, self-conscious of your enthusiasm. But the Alphas don’t seem to mind, in fact, Steve takes the blanket from under Bucky’s arm and tucks it under his own, then grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together.
“Let’s go then,” Steve says, smiling softly down at you.
With that, the three of you head off to the trail, walking under colorful oak trees that flank both sides of the dirt path. A comfortable silence falls over all of you, only the sounds of birds chirping filling the air. You walk for a few minutes, the leaves crunching under your feet as you take in the beauty surrounding you, your eyes wide with wonder.
The environment is comforting, calm, puts you at ease in a way you don’t normally experience. It’s freeing to feel so content - so happy. It takes about five minutes before you come upon a set of wooden stairs leading down to the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen. The water is nearly clear, the colorful trees reflecting over the surface, and even though it’s a clear day out, you can’t help but notice the golden hue filling the air. You don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking until Steve tugs on your hand.
“Do you like it?” He asks, almost nervous as he waits for your reaction.
“I…” You trail off, tears filling your eyes. This whole thing is just - just perfect. “I love it,” you say as you look at Steve, a wide smile spreading across your face. And you look at Bucky when you say, “It’s perfect.”
____________
“It’s perfect.”
Bucky can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. They’d both wracked their brains trying to figure out where to take you, what to do. They want to wow you, to show you that they can - and hopefully will get the chance to provide for you, they can make you happy. You’ll never go without, if you want something, they will figure out a way to get it.
“Good,” Steve says softly, smiling down at you before looking up at Bucky and nodding his head.
With that, the three of you make your way down the stairs, Steve holding on to your hand tightly to make sure you don’t fall, and Bucky places his free hand on your back. He can hear how your heartbeat speeds up when he does so and tries so hard not to puff out his chest when you glance up at him through your eyelashes coyly.
Once you’re down by the lake, the men lead you to a large oak tree merely ten or so feet from the edge. Steve is quick to unfold the blanket and spread it out under the tree - large enough to probably cover an entire California King bed. Bucky then places the basket down as his mate takes your hand and helps you sit near the edge of the blanket leaving enough space for the men to sit on either side of you.
The Alphas quickly open the basket and pull out containers of food, opening the lids and placing them in front of you. When they finally sit down - obviously with you in the middle - Bucky notices how wide your eyes are, how you seem transfixed on the array of fruits and sandwiches and cake. It’s when Bucky pulls out the jug of homemade lemonade that you choke back a cry.
“Honey?” Steve asks, turning his body to face you with a concerned look in his eyes.
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Bucky places a hand on your back, sweeping it around to hold your waist. And can you really blame him if his whole body goes hot when you lean into his side and turn your face so it’s halfway buried in his neck?
It takes a few seconds but you’re finally able to gather yourself and pull away.
“You guys are just… I can’t believe it.”
“What can’t you believe, sweetheart?” Steve scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your head to smooth out your hair, and unconsciously turns your head so he can look directly at you. “Tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
____________
You want to scream. You want to yell until your voice gives out. It’s nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Them preparing food - by hand - and bringing you to this beautiful spot might just be a normal thing for most people, but considering you’ve hardly ever been shown this much affection and thoughtfulness. Shaking your head, you look away, unable to withstand the Alpha's intense gaze.
“It’s nothing,” You mumble, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not, honey,” Bucky says, giving your waist an affectionate squeeze. “If you’re upset, we want you to tell us.”
“I’m not! I promise!” You assure them, hesitantly reaching both of your hands out to place them on the Alpha’s legs. “I guess I just… I’ve just never been shown this much… care?” It’s phrased as a question, because you’re unsure if that was the right word to use, but it’s all you can think of at the moment.
“I know it may not seem like a lot,” You continue, taking a deep breath before looking up at Steve, and then Bucky. “But this means the world to me. You guys are just so sweet and thoughtful and I’m not really sure what to do, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, let alone two people.”
Both of the men sigh, and you can almost taste the scent of disappointment wafting off of them. Suddenly your nerves spike, did you say something wrong?
You must have said that out loud because Bucky starts shaking his head. “No, no darling. You didn’t say anything wrong, I promise.”
“We’re just… I guess we’re disappointed that you consider this the height of romance because this is the bare minimum. You should be used to this, you should be loved and worshipped because that’s what you deserve, nothing less. And it’s not your fault, it’s every other person’s fault for not treating you like the perfect Omega you are.” Steve sounds upset, and your heartbeat increases to a degree that you’d think you were having a panic attack if it weren’t for how damn happy you are.
For a moment, you’re unsure as to what to say, it’s just baffling to you that one person, let alone two, can make you feel this way, this joyous and carefree. But luckily Bucky speaks up so you don’t have to.
“And we’d love to have the chance to do that for you,” He says softly, picking up your hand to cradle it in his own so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. And when you stare up into his eyes, you can’t help but gasp at how loving his gaze is. “Will you give us that chance?”
“Yes.” And this time, you’re not embarrassed by how quickly your answer was to come. How can you be when both men sigh in relief and lean into your body so they can wrap you in their arms? It’s warm and comforting, filling you with happiness and care for these men.
When they lean back you really can’t be blamed for the way your gaze finds Steve’s, then drops down to his lips momentarily. At this, you’re a little flustered, suddenly overcome with the want to feel how soft they are.
Steve seems to read your mind because he places his hand on the back of your neck and forces you to hold his gaze.
“Can I kiss you, honey?”
“Please,” You whine, staying in place as the Alpha leans down slowly. Your eyes close when he gets close enough that you can feel his breaths against your mouth. And for a moment, neither of you moves, and your nerves climb higher and higher as the seconds tick by.
You’re about to speak when he finally, finally kisses you. At first, it’s just a simple peck, a chaste kiss on your lips, and then he pulls back by merely a millimeter. It’s you who leans forward to press your lips together again, and you let him lead as you lose yourself in the kiss. Though, it’s over far too soon for your liking by a soft groan.
Pulling away, both you and Steve turn to look at Bucky, who is now sporting a sheepish grin.
“Sorry,” He mumbles with a flushed face. “I just… I love seeing you two together. I love us all being together and having the two people I care about more than anything sharing your feelings. I know it’s-”
“Sweet,” You interrupt him, turning your body so you can face him better and slip your hand out of his. Placing it on his cheek, you smile when he nuzzles into your palm and gives it a little kiss. “I think it’s sweet, Bucky.”
“Can I kiss you too?” He whispers hopefully, smiling when you nod. Unlike his mate, Bucky doesn’t waste any time capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. It’s clear he’s trying to hold back, and something in you just can’t help but feel wanted, desired. This kiss lasts a little longer, and although you can feel Steve’s gaze on you, you’re not in the least bit self-conscious. You know they wouldn’t lie to you, so you find comfort in knowing that you can show affection to both men without either getting upset or jealous.
When you do finally pull away, you can’t help but lean into Bucky’s chest, reaching behind you to grab Steve’s hand.
“I really like you guys,” You mumble into the Alpha’s chest.
“We really like you too,” They say in unison, causing you to smile.
With that, everything seems to fall into place, the men divvy up the food - giving you most of it - and you all eat in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Once the food is eaten, Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to look up at him.
“Come here,” He says with a smile, guiding you to sit sideways on his lap, facing Steve. And there is absolutely no way in hell you could contain the squeak forcing its way out of your mouth. “Is this okay?” He asks as Steve scoots closer to sit right next to Bucky, picking up your legs and resing them in his lap.
You’ve never nodded faster in your life. You’re nervous, sure, but the utter happiness you’re feeling far outweighs it. That happiness only grows when Bucky nods to his mate, and you watch as the other man picks up the container with the cake. Your eyes widen when Steve picks up a fork and takes a small bit out of one of the slices, carefully leading it up to your mouth where you automatically open it.
Slowly, he slides the fork out, allowing you to chew the cake with a pleased smile on his face. It goes on like this until the slice is completely gone, with Bucky pressing kisses to your temple occasionally and bathing you in his warmth. It makes you preen having these Alphas take care of you like this, providing for you.
You’re content to stay here forever, wrapped up in their light, and by the time you’re done eating completely, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, a yawn forcing your mouth wide open.
“I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, a little embarrassed by how tired you’ve become now that your stomach is full and you’re comfortably resting against Bucky’s chest.
“Don’t be, honey,” Steve says, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “You can nap if you want, we’ll be right here when you wake up.”
A smile spreads across your face, and you instinctively bury your head into Bucky’s chest and reach out so you can hold onto Steve’s hands. “Are you sure?” You ask, peeking an eye open so you can look up at the blonde Alpha.
He smiles as he nods, pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “Go to sleep, pretty girl.”
It doesn’t take long for you to float off into dreamland, and the last thing you hear is, “I told you she’s perfect for us.”
tagging: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @meteorshowercoffee / @wandaneedstherapy / @buckysbarne / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @p1ut0smoon / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @clownsbf / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @sweater-bee / @stuckysbike / @lovelylittleleigh / @buckyshbic / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @emeraldfairy23 / @lethargicluv / @kinsssss / @perfectlyboring / @glistenuplove / @monicachic13 / @bbellen1411 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @ladyravenclaw / @sadsadbabygirlrob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @sweetmoonlove0214 / @yesprettypleasesir / @duckies16 / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @xonickibaby / @matchat3a / @hereticdance / @animegirlgeeky / @rippedpiece
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misteria247 · 2 months ago
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*vibrating in place*
Okay so, thanks to the lovely mutual @localcanadiancreature62 I've been been thinking about similarities between the four pine twins. Mainly Dipper and Stanley, and fam I think that maybe Dipper takes after Stanley a lot more than he does Ford. Let me explain.
Dipper's main motivations is protecting Mabel. While he loves the mystery and gaining knowledge, at the end of the day Mabel's the most important thing to him. Dipper gives up a lot for his older sister, so much so that when he's possessed by Bill and Bill mockingly asks who'd give everything up for their dumb sibling Mabel without hesitation replies-
"Dipper would."
And who else do we know who gives up everything for their sibling?
Stanley.
Stanley spent 30 years giving up his life, his identity, his remaining family, literally everything just to bring back Ford. Because Ford's more important than anything else. Just as Mabel is to Dipper.
Dipper also has an uncanny knack for spotting con artists. This kid is always suspicious of free offers and deals too good to be true. Examples of this are the first episode when Stan offers the twins something from the shop. And Mabel is quick to jump on board with it, not questioning a thing while Dipper immediately is like-
"What's the catch?"
Or during the Gideon Glee arch, when Gideon was doing his thing at the tent and his advertisements. Dipper wasn't buying it, and at several points outright scoffed at things that were clearly a scam. He's even more critical of it because his Gruncle Stan isn't Gideon's biggest fan and Dipper surprisingly takes Stan's words to heart. Which we see in the episodes like Dipper trying to be a man and Stanley praises him for standing up for what he believed in. And Dipper's attitude immediately brightened at it. Or the moment when Bill offered a deal to Dipper in exchange for a puppet. Dipper was incredibly hesitant and even asked a few times if that's all Bill wanted. Who else is like this?
Stan is.
Stanley is critical of anything that seems off. Always questioning if there's a catch or if something else is going on. He's not easily bought, and neither is Dipper.
And finally Dipper and Stanley believe that family is the most important thing.
Dipper when he's offered the apprenticeship from Ford his first reaction after excitement is-
"What about Mabel?"
Because Mabel is one of the most important things to Dipper. In fact this scene reminds me of the scene when Ford and his parents are in the office about his scholarship and while everyone else is focused on that, Stan and Ford's mom is the only one to ask-
"What about Stanley?"
Anyways, Dipper's biggest thing is family. This kid gets into dangerous situations to protect Mabel, Ford and Stan with everything he has. And is more than willing to die for them if it comes down to it. And Stanley is the exact same way. Just like Dipper, Stan will fight tooth and nail for his brother and nibbings till the very end.
In short I think Dipper takes more after Stanley than we realized. It's all there in the finer details and it makes me feral just thinking about it.
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cybertron-after-dark · 12 days ago
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Average transformers g1 episode:
Megatron is attempting to black out the entire sky across a hundred mile radius and funnel all the sunlight into one, concentrated solar death ray to target a heavy duty solar panel he's having soundwave and the cassetticons build in order to convert it to energon. Then he plans to hit the autobot base with the death ray just for funsies. Starscream plans to push Megatron directly into the death ray, also just for funsies.
Optimus sends Wheeljack and Spike to deal with it, along with two bots you're pretty sure have not been in this show before this point, but you're kind of past asking how many of these fuckers were on the ark offscreen when it crashed. One of them has the worst fake Canadian accent you have ever heard, and the other's name sounds inexplicably dirty.
Starscream tries to get Megatron to stand in the spot he told Skywarp and Ramjet to direct the death ray, but is interrupted when Rumble asks why Starscream stuck him with extra work (a task Megatron assigned specifically to Starscream). This vexes Megatron. The autobots show up and try to figure out what the point of the blacked out sky is while Starscream attempts to talk his way out of it. Then the death ray goes off two feet away from Megatron, which only pisses him off further.
The Canadian bot yells "AH BINARY-BEAVERS!!" because the death ray caught him off guard and completely gives away the bots' position. Soundwave immediately fires on them. Gratuitous robot violence ensues. Spike is generally useless and tries chucking rocks at Rumble. Megatron is too busy trying to almost-murder Starscream to bother with the autobots and just lets Soundwave handle it.
Probably-an-innuendo-name-bot is luckily a flier and takes the chance to see what's blocking the sun now that their cover's blown anyway. He gets up there and the seekers are sticking tinfoil on the clouds to make the tops reflective. The writers are really just hoping you don't think too hard about it.
Skywarp starts firing on dirty-name and calls him a nerd. Dirty-name takes evasive action. Skywarp runs out of ammo and starts just chucking tin foil at him. Dirty-name calls him dumb and says his processor is made of spare toaster parts. Then he crash lands and canada-bot asks if dirty-name's wings are spare toaster parts as well. Wheeljack yells that they'll all be spare toaster parts if they don't focus on the decepticons. The death ray goes off again and barely misses the autobots. Wheeljack corrects himself to Melted spare toaster parts.
Dirty-name gives Wheeljack the rundown on the tinfoil clouds so he can figure out a way to get rid of them while Canada-bot fights Soundwave and the cassettes in the background. Spike is kind of helping too sort of almost. Those rocks hes chucking sure are damaging. Ravage gets straight up drop kicked. It cuts back to Wheeljack whipping up a good old fashioned Device™️.
Starscream flies up past the tinfoil barrier while Megatron shoots at him. All the holes he's shooting in the blackout barrier are just making more, slightly shittier death rays and the main one is losing concentration. One of them hits Megatron right in the optic and he keels over with an over the top screech. Starscream descends, breaking another hole in the tinfoil to see a golden opportunity.
"MEGATRON HAS BEEN BLINDED!!! I, STARSCREAM AM NOW YOUR LEADER!!!"
Wheeljack finishes his Device™️: A grenade that makes tinfoil entirely invisible, thus rendering the whole weapon unusable. The writers are hungover, please do not think about it too hard. Pretty please. Dirty-name doesn't know if he can throw it into one of the holes in the barrier on his own since he can't fly in robot mode and he cant throw in altmode. Spike offers to get on his back and throw it in for him if he can get close enough. And he's just SO good at throwing things. The other two agree he's their best shot, they're so happy spike is around, couldn't do it without him.
Starscream is hovering in the air as he gives his Decepticon Leader Acceptance Speech he's prepared for this very occasion, golden light streaming in from the him-shaped hole in the barrier. Dirty-name and spike zip past him and spike makes the best goddamn throw of his life. Before starscream can properly question the Fucking Audacity of these autobots interrupting him while he's trying to have a moment, the invisible explosion goes off that the animators are just happy they don't have to put that much effort into drawing. Starscream gets knocked out of the air and crashes directly onto Megatron. This vexes Megatron.
Sky's normal again. Don't worry that there's still tinfoil there, don't even fuckin worry about it dude. Spike and Dirty-name touch back down. Round of applause for spike for throwing super good. Wheeljack comments that he's just happy it blew up the way it was supposed to. Cue uncomfortably long laughing. Megatron manages to roll starscream off him and calls for a retreat.
Back at the decepticon base, Megatron has an eyepatch and is skulking. Starscream yaps about how it makes him look like a proper tyrant, brooding and battle scarred, and, dare he say, darkly handsome? This vexes Megatron.
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thesoftestpunk · 2 years ago
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I want you, Baby I need you
Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/
Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!
Main Masterlist
Pt.2
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“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”
“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?” 
“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”
Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating. 
“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?” 
You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.
Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class. 
“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.” 
Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering. 
You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.
“How many tattoos do you have?”
For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile. 
“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head. 
“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”
“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago. 
“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you. 
Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks. 
“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you. 
Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”
“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough. 
“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is. 
You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings. 
You’re starting to like Eddie.
“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”
“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”
She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”
“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today. 
She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s. 
“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”
“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”
“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”
“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.
“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”
“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”
“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”
“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?” 
“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table. 
You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today. 
“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”
“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense. 
“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday. 
You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame. 
Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either. 
The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now? 
“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”
“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”
“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”
“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it. 
“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”
“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?” 
Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. 
“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you. 
“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”
The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks. 
“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence. 
“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?” 
Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you. 
“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands. 
You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.
Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault. 
You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.
You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop. 
His little sheepies. Which means… 
Fuck. 
Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away. 
“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”
“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back. 
“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!” 
All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved? 
“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”
“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”
“Bitchy?”
That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation. 
“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.
“I thought it was locked after hours.” 
You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”
“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted. 
You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water. 
“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows. 
“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.” 
“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”
“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”
“Christina wasn’t far off.” 
The admission bounces around as you look at him.
“Eddie…”
“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”
“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you. 
“So don’t you have us much say as her?”
“With her tyrannical rule? No way.” 
“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”
“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.” 
“You’ve read…?”
“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”
Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open. 
“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“
“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.
“Campaign…?” 
“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength. 
“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head. 
“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”
“Wait. Can you swim?”
“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.” 
“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”
“Right, I’ll uh…”
“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.” 
Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap. 
“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.
“You’re gonna regret that!” 
You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air. 
“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves. 
“You cheated.” 
“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water. 
“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.” 
He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock. 
“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.” 
Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed. 
“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long. 
“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”
Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him. 
“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”
“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.
“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”
“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”
“Do not make me regret this.” 
You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water. 
“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.
“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”
“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”
“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”
It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.
You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile. 
“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent. 
He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.
“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”
“Have what?”
Shit. You were too vague.
“A crush, dummy.” 
Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long. 
“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.” 
“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.” 
Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.
“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”
“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.
Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.
“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”
“So will you!”
“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.
“Fine.”
Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.
“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.
Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.
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