#but i do make an effort to understand you

[euthymiya]

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

��� yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

────────────────────────

Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”

[shiranuieditorial]

Japanese → English translation of an excerpt from an interview with MUCC lead vocalist Tatsurou (逹瑯):

A: Efforts to maintain relationships can feel somewhat negative, don’t you think? Essentially, it means that someone has to push themselves beyond their limits. I believe that in any relationship, there are moments when we must endure something for the sake of the other person; however, that endurance shouldn’t have to be an unbearable sacrifice. At most, it’s about saying, “I’ll hold back on this part of myself to support this aspect of you,” which is a more positive form of patience.

Q: I think it’s impossible to maintain a balance where everyone endures equally. But why do you think we manage to get so close to that ideal? It doesn’t seem like we’re diligently directing traffic, after all.

A: Indeed, it doesn’t appear that we’re directing traffic. Just… I don’t really understand it well myself, but surprisingly, even when I have to endure or feel stressed about something, I tend to forget it after a night’s sleep (laughs). It doesn’t completely vanish, but I find that I stop caring about it. My anger and frustration don’t last very long. So, I just think, “Well, whatever.” (laughs)

Q: The fact that you possess such a character is what makes you who you are, Tatsurou-san. I feel that this is one of the reasons for MUCC’s natural continuity.

A: I’m not entirely sure about myself; however, if I were the type who bottled things up and accumulated stress, I might have exploded at one of the other members at some point. If there had been even one member like that, things might have been different; but in reality, I see up close how everyone else is also struggling silently and doing their best without saying anything. For instance—Miya has an immense workload in terms of music, so, I imagine he must be going through a lot as well. Thus, even if there are moments when I think, “Wow!” I also think, “Well, it can’t be helped.” Because of this understanding, I don’t feel the need to complain.

Q: All four of you share a positive sense of “It can’t be helped” towards each other. Moreover, the parts where you play “MUCC’s Tatsurou” or “MUCC’s Miya” are quite minimal.

A: Yes. Also, for example, in the case of vocalists from other bands, they might have many invisible tasks to handle; however, in my case, I don’t often think “It’s unfair that I’m doing all the work while everyone else is slacking off.” Since I chose this position, I think it can’t be helped. Ultimately, despite everything, I believe we maintain a balance. When watching the rhythm section during individual practice before recording sessions, they seem to be under considerable pressure; they start recording much earlier than me and need to prepare quickly. Seeing everyone creating backing tracks in the studio looks incredibly demanding; plus, since our leader can be quite strict, they’re probably feeling overwhelmed (laughs). Of course, my own lyric writing can also become quite demanding later on; however, in that sense, everyone experiences similar levels of hardship. It feels like everything balances out in some way.

Image alt text for the original Japanese article:

係を保つための努力って、なんかネガティブじゃないですか。 それはつまり誰かが無理をするってことだし。 お互い、人間関係のためになにかしらの我慢をする部分というのはあると思うけど、それは我慢しきれない我慢ではないというか。 せいぜいそれは「相手のこういうところを立ててあげるために、自分のここは我慢よう」みたいなポジティブな我慢じゃないかと思うから。

———全員が公平に我慢する、というバランスを保つことも不可能だと思うんです。 だけどそれにすごく近いことができているのはなぜだと思います？ 一生懸命に交通整理しているようにも見えないし。

たしかに交通整理はしてないですね。 ただ。 。 。 。 。 。 よくわかんないけど、俺ね、意外と、我慢したりとか、ストレスたまるようなことがあっても、ひと晚経つと忘れちゃうんですよ（笑）。 ホントにきれいに消えちゃうわけじゃないんだけど、どうでも良くなってしまう。 怒りとかモヤモヤとかが、そんなに持続しないんで。 だから、ま、いいやって（笑）。

———その性格の持ち主が達瑯さんである、ということ。 それがムックの自然な継続の一因でもあるような気がします。

自分ではよくわかんないけど。 ただ、俺が結構我慢しちゃってストレスをため込むようなタイプだったりしたら、それが爆発したときにメンバーの誰かにあたってたかもしれないとは思う。 俺にかぎらず、1人でもそういうメンバーがいたら違ってたかもしれない。 だけど実際には「こいつも大变なのに、なにも言わずにがんばってるしなあ」というのを間近で見てるから。 それこそミヤも音楽的な意味での仕事量がすごく多いから、大变だろうなと思うし。 だからなんか「うわっ！」う思うことがあったとしても「ま、しょうがねえか」う思うし。 そこで文句を言おうとも思わないから、別に。

———4人全員がお互いに対してポジティブな意味での「しようがない」という感情を持って��る。 しかも「ムックの達瑯」と��「ムックのミヤ」というものを演じている部分がきわめて小さいというか。

うん。 あと、たとえばほかのバンドのボーカルの場合、目に見えない仕事が多いんじゃないかと思うんですよ。 だけど俺の場合「俺ばっか仕事で、みんなズルいよ」と思うこともそんなにないし。 このポジションを選んだ以上、しょうがないと思うし。 やっぱ、なんだかんだでバランスがとれてると思うんですよね。 リズム隊とかを見てても、レコーディング前の個人練習とかで詰めてるのを見てると、やっぱり大变そうだなあとか思うし。やっぱ俺なんかよりもみんな、ずっと早くからレコーディングがはじまるわけで、準備にも早く取りかからないといけないわけで。みんながスタジオでオケ作ったりしてるのを見てると、いかにも大变そうだし、しかもリーダーがスパルタだから、ヒーヒー言ってる部分もあるし（笑）。ま、俺も俺で作詞とかがあとから大变だったりはするんだけど、そういう意味では、ある種みんな同程度にしんどいというか、帳尻が合ってるというか。そういうところも確実にあるんで。

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT and Jealousy

Requested? Yes!

Requests: "seventeen reaction to their partner being jealous" and "seventeen getting jealous over their partner? could be because someone’s flirting with their partner or maybe their partner is spending more time with a coworker or classmate to complete a project"

A/N: this one was a bit of a doozy since I decided to address both requests in one go.

A/N #2: This is the new and improved version which includes all of the members. Thank you to the person that let me know that one was missing. I'm not sure if reblogs that are already out there will contain this fix, but just an FYI.

Seungcheol

When he’s jealous: everyone saw this coming. It takes very little for him to be like, “hmm, that person is too close” or “that person’s talking to you too much”. Might insert him into the conversation both verbally and physically in a way that screams that you’re taken. Sometimes you’ll roll your eyes about it and call him a big baby, but sometimes you might have to have a serious conversation about whether he trusts you or not. Will still want to make it apparent that you’re taken even if it’s not super aggressive, so that’s kind of a non-negotiable here, I fear. 

When you’re jealous: oddly, I think he’d be confused by this. Not because he doesn’t understand jealousy, but because he feels there’s no reason. He’s so unapologetically into you that he’s totally lost when you say someone was too close to him or talking to him too much. You’ll have to equate your jealousy to his own for him to ever get it - you know, the typical “would you like it if I did that?” He would not. 

Jeonghan

When he’s jealous: such a rarity. He’s pretty secure in general, I think, so on a typical day it never occurs to him to be jealous. But I think if there were someone that you’re closer with or have a deeper history with (like a close friend that seems to blur lines or an ex that you still see from time to time), he might feel a little jealousy stir. SUPER passive aggressive if he’s ever feeling this way. You’ll leave an interaction and have to be like “what the hell was that???” Will never admit to said jealousy. 

When you’re jealous: he actually wants you to be a little jealous. Starting to sound like a potential red flag, but hear me out. Won’t do anything crazy, but might not shut down a conversation that he recognizes as a tad too friendly right away, only to watch how you react. I believe he’d do this to reassure himself that you care. If you tell him something like that really bothers you, then I think he’d stop though. 

Joshua

When he’s jealous: this absolutely manifests as insecurity. If you talk a little too much about one of your coworkers, it might make him think about what that coworker has that he doesn’t. Might not ever admit to the jealousy itself, but will certainly ask for a little extra reassurance when he’s feeling like this. 'Do you still love me?' 'Are you happy with our relationship?' 'Are there things I could do to make you happier?' Put this sweet, sweet man out of his misery. 

When you’re jealous: oh, he never means for this to happen, I promise. He wants you to feel secure in the relationship, the same way he wants security himself. But he’s so friendly sometimes that both you and everyone else might misread it as something else. If you tell him you were bothered by something, he’ll make a real effort to eliminate the possibility of that happening again, but it is what it is sometimes. 

Jun

When he’s jealous: it’s obvious because he clams up. Will give very brief answers with a little furrow in his eyebrows until you finally ask him if he’s alright and he falls apart. “Do you even love me anymore?!?” The drama!! You’ll have to press for specifics about what made him feel this way so you can avoid it in the future. At the very least, reassure this big baby that you still love him. 

When you’re jealous: smug for only a moment. Quite literally a single second. He doesn’t like the idea that you doubt his love, just like you wouldn’t like it when he doubts yours. So he’ll be more cognizant in future interactions and if something can’t be helped, he’s reassuring you right away that it wasn’t what you might think. 

Hoshi

When he’s jealous: so pouty and sulky. Where as Jun might bite his tongue for a little bit, I don’t think Soonyoung would. He’ll let you know right away that he doesn’t like this person and might even beg you to put some serious distance between you and them. Another big baby to reassure, but he’s really just nervous that you might not like him as much as he thought. 

When you’re jealous: huge question mark floating above his head. Then when it clicks, he’s quick to assure you it’s nothing like that and you have nothing to worry about. Will lay it on thick just because he wants you to understand how into you he is. Will freely admit that there’s not a single thought in his head besides you a lot of the time. What you don’t know is that that conversation you saw across the room consisted of ‘my partner’ this and ‘my partner’ that. 

Wonwoo

When he’s jealous: will never say it. He’s a lock box when it comes to this. If you do manage to pry this out of him, I think it won’t manifest in words as much as it would in actions in the bedroom. Would not be super possessive in public, but will want the reassurance that only he can do that and see you like that, you know? 

When you’re jealous: smug for a moment as well, before he’s putting your mind at ease right away. Even if he won’t say when he’s jealous, he’ll tell you exactly what he thinks of that person that was just a little too close to him for your liking, even or rather especially if it’s mean. This might also manifest in the bedroom if only because he’s just not a man of many words. 

Woozi

When he’s jealous: will become pretty irritable about it. When you leave this event, he’s snippy and seems annoyed with everything you say. This honestly might lead to a little bit of a fight and it might take some time to reassure him on where you stand. Really just wants to know that you’re his as much as he’s yours but won’t feel like he can come right out and say that. 

When you’re jealous: totally lost. He works with a ton of artists, but why is it an issue now? If you say it’s because you’re sure this person is into him what with the messages that have been going back and forth, he’ll flat out say he doesn’t care about this other person. Would be pretty intentional about drawing boundaries with this person from then on because he trusts that you’re seeing something real there. 

DK

When he’s jealous: oh boy. How can he draw attention to himself immediately? If his big personality doesn’t work, then he’ll resort to making it apparent that you’re taken, probably by just coming over and introducing himself as your boyfriend. If you raise an eyebrow at him about it later, he’ll shrug. “What, am I not?” Never mind that he’s praying that you agree and he didn't somehow miss an entire breakup. 

When you’re jealous: much like Joshua, he’s perhaps a little too friendly for his own good. Totally oblivious about the other person’s intentions until it’s a little too late. The moment this person tries to touch him or say something flirty, he’s dragging you over to him, saying “hey, have you met my partner that I’m super in love with???” Not subtle at all and will not let you linger on those sort of thoughts. 

Mingyu

When he’s jealous: Another one that could be a bit intense in making sure someone understands you’re taken. Like s.coups, it takes very little for him to get to this point. Talk about clingy anytime, but specifically in this situation. Doesn’t even have to say anything because he's already hanging all over you, but trust me he will. It’s ‘baby’ this and ‘love of my life’ that when he inserts himself into the conversation. Totally good once your attention is back on him, so another of the big baby club.

When you’re jealous: A natural flirt and absolutely won’t mean it. I picture that you will have to be just as aggressive as he is when he’s jealous for him to get that he’s letting a few too many little comments or touches slide. But he wants you to cling to him too, so while I don’t think he’d go out of his way to make you jealous necessarily, he doesn’t hate it if you are. 

Minghao

When he’s jealous: ooo another passive aggressive one. After about the fifth snippy comment, you’re pulling him off to the side to ask what his deal is. “That person is my deal. They’re coming on to you.” No matter whether you realized it or not, if you say something like “so? I want you, not them,” he’ll just do a little ‘oh’ and let it go. 

When you’re jealous: I’ll be honest, I think he’d be able to read the other person’s intentions and will never let it progress to something that could make you jealous if he can help it. But sometimes he can’t help it because it’s work related and he has to be friendly in front of cameras etc., so he’ll be quick to remind you of the same thing you tell him - that he wants you, not them.

Seungkwan

When he’s jealous: so damn snarky. This person will know that Seungkwan doesn’t like them. You’ll know Seungkwan doesn’t like them. Everyone will know Seungkwan doesn’t like them. You or someone else might have to even tell him to lay off a bit. That snark might be directed at you too, and you’ll have to wait until he’s ready to really talk about it before you understand the issue. 

When you’re jealous: another one that the friendliness will get the best of him some times. He’s such a social butterfly, and to some extent you might have to accept it. Still, he doesn’t want to make you feel insecure about the relationship, so whether you’re around or not, he’s talking fondly of you to let others know he’s happily taken. 

Vernon

When he’s jealous: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he’s not that aloof!!! Totally recognizes when someone’s coming on to you, but I don’t think it’s in his nature to act jealously. He sits back and watches, will maybe be a little uncomfortable, but you genuinely may never know that he feels that way. Feels better quite literally as soon as your attention is on him again. That’s actually all the reassurance he needs. 

When you’re jealous: now I have to admit…. This might be where he’s a tiny bit aloof. May not recognize that someone’s hitting on him, like, ever. At least not until someone else mentions it. This might be tough at first, because he wants to recognize when this is happening to put a stop to it for you, but usually doesn’t realize until it’s far too late. Eventually, he’ll realize he can just casually mention you at the top of the conversation to imply he’s taken. He might even let himself look a little lovesick too for good measure. 

Chan

When he’s jealous: retreats into himself and sulks. When you find him later, he might say something snarky like “where’s your friend?” Please shrug and say I don’t know so he can breathe for a minute about the fact that you don’t seem to care about that person. Might need extra reassurance here and there to feel secure about situations like this because, like I’ve said for others, he wants to know your his as much as he’s yours. 

When you’re jealous: another one that’s sometimes too friendly for their own good. But he’s perceptive about it and when he realizes how you might take it, particularly if you’re showing signs of being jealous, he’s quick to abandon this person and smother you with affection until you get it. I mean, squishing your cheeks, kissing you, and loudly telling you he loves you and only you, regardless of how public the setting might be. Will lay it on thick because he doesn’t want you to have any doubts.

[anyroads]

How to actually support small businesses on Etsy

With Christmas approaching and people starting to look for gifts, I thought it might be useful to let people know how to best support Etsy sellers, since we get a lot of sales this time of year! Etsy has a lot of policies that affect sellers which they don't really disclose to customers, and often there's a communication gap that can be damaging to sellers without customers intending them to. Hopefully this post helps more people avoid this kind of thing.

A while ago Etsy implemented the Star Seller program. When you go to an Etsy store, you can see badges at the top of the page, denoting if the seller has done well in three main categories:

Speedy replies

On time dispatch with tracking

Good reviews

If you clear the bar for all three as a seller, you're a Star Seller. This is an important badge for sellers, which I'll get to in a bit. Etsy evaluates your stats monthly, and bases them on three months' worth of data:

Each has specific determining factors, which also advantage large operations like dropshippers over small businesses, but we'll get to that too:

As you can see, the criteria is really demanding. You have to respond to 95% of first messages (ie. the first time someone contacts you) within 24 hours or you lose your Star Seller status. This can be really damaging to a small store.

You also have to dispatch 95% of orders on time, ie. within the set timeline you've chosen for an item listed, and you have to give tracking info. This, by the way, is frustrating and disingenuous; I ship my product in envelopes because they're small and thin, but the mail service in my country doesn't offer tracking for envelopes. I'm not going to spend up to 3x as much on shipping just to have a tracking number (shipping would cost half the price of my product if I did), but if I don't include tracking info I don't get a Star Seller badge even if I ship all my orders on time. I get around this by writing "unavailable" in the field where tracking info goes, but this still poses a transparency issue to customers and rightly so. I end up compensating by issuing a lot of replacements for delayed orders, which I can recoup costs of through my mail service which is a lot of extra work and time.

You also must have an average of 4.8 star reviews or higher. There are no adjustments made for small stores, and this is a big one where dropshippers have an advantage.

As you can see in my stats here, I had 11 reviews in 3 months. That means if just one person gives me a 4 or 3 star review, I lose my Star Seller status for 3 months unless I get a ton more reviews quickly. A dropshipper who makes hundreds of sales a week won't be affected by one middling review. And you'd be surprised how often people who leave 3 or 4 star reviews actually meant to leave better ones but clicked the wrong button without noticing, or just don't understand how the system works.

Because Etsy doesn't explain this to customers. So people will leave a damaging review in perfectly good faith. The number of times I've gotten an "excellent product, would buy again!" review with 3 stars is astounding. I always message customers to ask what I could do better and explain the system, and the response is almost always that there was nothing wrong, they just usually don't give anything higher than 3 out of 5 stars unless the product radically improved their lives or was transformative (and to their credit, most customers change their reviews after this exchange but again, it takes time and effort).

3 stars is average, and what customers rate is their experience receiving and using a product. What Etsy uses these ratings to gauge, however, is whether a customer was satisfied dispatch timelines, craftsmanship, and if a product met the expectations set in the listing.

As an added bonus, Etsy hoses money off sellers by offering to advertise for them. The way this works is that if a seller opts in, Etsy will advertise their store in relevant searches on search engines like Google, and in exchange they take a percentage from any sales made from clicks on these links. And then some. Because if a customer clicked an advertising link once, then Etsy will keep taking that cut from any further purchases from that IP address. So if you click a Google link to an Etsy store and then purchase from that store, and then bookmark that store and go back six months later to get another item, Etsy will keep taking their advertising cut with each purchase you make.

Depending on whether or not you opt in to advertising, Etsy can take up to 30% of your earnings in fees alone. That means if I sell, say, bookmarks for $10, I only get to keep $7. Hopefully that covers my operating costs, but if I charge more for an item that takes me a lot of time and work to make, I have to factor in that Etsy offers free shipping on orders over $35 whether or not sellers agree to give it. So if I sell a product that costs $35, not only do I only get to keep $24.50 of what I was paid after Etsy takes fees, I also have to cover the cost of shipping. And if I'm selling a product for that much, it's likely shipping will cost $5-10, so now my profit is down to $15-20 for an item I sold for $35.

Why is the Star Seller status so important? Because it's the main way the average Etsy store gets onto the algorithm and has visibility, and without visibility you don't have sales. Drop shippers can afford to purchase advertising space, so they'll always show up in searches. They can also afford to have a variety of products, high-end professional photos of their products, and because they have a lot of sales, the occasional bad review or delayed shipment won't cause a blip on their rating system. In comparison, the average Etsy store who makes, let's say, 50 sales a month (and that's a small store that's doing well), is going to feel the impact of a handful of 4 star reviews and one day of delayed orders/message replies due to a family emergency. If you contact Etsy customer service to explain your legitimate reason for having a delay, they're unable to intervene. They can't give you back your Star Seller status, which means you're dropped from the algorithm for the three months it takes for those delays to stop counting towards your averages, and you then have to work your way back up into the algorithm once that time passes, which is even harder to do. (And while you can put up an auto-reply, there's a time limit on how long it'll be up, which is usually 24-48 hours. Which may not work if you have a personal emergency that the average small business would understand and give you time off for in ways Etsy refuses to accommodate.)

So what can you do to support Etsy sellers?

- Give good reviews. If you have problems with a product, message the seller and give them the opportunity to fix the problem or send a replacement/refund. Unless you feel the need to leave a scathing 1 star review, don't leave one unless it's a 5 star. Etsy counts anything under 5 stars the same as it does one star. (This goes for Amazon, Uber, Deliveroo, etc. too. Review kindly.)

- Message sellers during the week. It's harder to get to messages during the weekend, and not everyone remembers to put on their auto-reply.

- Don't click advertising links. If someone promos their Etsy store on their own social media account, it's fine. So if you click a link from an instagram profile or a tumblr post, that's fine. But if you see a link on Google or in a dedicated advertising space, even if it's a sponsored spot on Etsy, don't click on it. Instead, search the shop name on Etsy and go to it through that search. This way the seller won't lose more fees to Etsy.

[quilitain]

I'm a guy who managed to avoid falling into that alt-right pipeline and honestly? I can understand why so many men succumb to it. I don't agree with their choice, I don't support the hurt they inflict on others and I try to guide people away when I get the chance, but I've been on the edge of that abyss and I understand how easy it is to fall.

Growing up, over and over I'd hear women, women I considered friends, women I looked up to and respected and wanted to learn from talk about the horrors of men, how awful, wretched, repulsive, hurtful, and just plain evil they were. How uncomfortable they made them, how uneasy and afraid.

And I learned. And I listened. And I internalized those lessons.

Yes, at no time were they ever directing their comments at me, but at the same time, never did they seem to care that their words were hurting me either. And when I do speak up I'm usually met with some variation of "oh we didn't mean you" or more commonly "oh if you're not like that you shouldn't be offended".

I've gotten to a point where I am ashamed of my gender. I'm ashamed of being a man, of being born into a gender that causes that much pain and suffering. I feel disgusted and repulsed by my own body, I suppressed my romantic feelings so much that I had a mental breakdown when I finally did develop feelings for someone because I was so repulsed by myself and afraid that I would become just another man like the ones I'd heard so much about. I don't want to change gender, I just don't want to be seen as a violent monster just because I share a gender with some people who act that way.

Even now the general atmosphere I get from the very liberal spaces on the Internet I like to hang out in is that I'm not welcome there. I am tolerated, but I am, at best, an enemy turncoat. A potential threat that just isn't actively dangerous. A monster on a leash. I do see small spots of improvement, but the people pushing back usually deliberately, explicitly make exceptions for men. I see TERFs getting called out, but their arguments that AMAB are inherently violent and dangerous to women get parroted around without irony so long as they only specify cis men. I see callout posts promoting and encouraging masculinity and acceptance of masculinity, but only for transmascs or butch women. And like, these are good movements, I support them wholeheartedly and have pretty much made peace with the fact that they are aimed at people who have it a lot worse off than I do. But at the same time it doesn't feel great to once again be told that "everyone is valid and worthy of love, except you".

If you grow up being made to feel that way, isolated, othered, monstrous, and don't yet realize the true motivations of the majority of right-wing "support" groups it becomes incredibly easy for them to lure you in, and once you're isolated and immersed in their echo chamber it's incredibly difficult to escape.

No, it isn't on liberals to coddle and reassure men, but maybe some effort could be made to treat them with the same nuance and understanding we reserve for literally anyone else?

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[creamflix]

gojo satoru x reader; no reader gender implied. established relationship. angst, minimal comfort. gojo's childish and lowkey a guilt tripper — masterlist here ☆

cooking with satoru was something you cherished.

it was playful, light, and full of laughter — the kind of moments that filled your heart and reassured you of the life you were building together. he’d sneak bites of sugar, swipe a spoonful of whipped cream, and act like a child in the best ways, making you laugh until your stomach hurt. so when you decided to make mochi for him, something new, something special, you had that familiar warmth in your chest, eager to see his reaction.

as you set the finished mochi in front of him, he perked up, curiosity lighting up his face. he took a bite, humming in appreciation, but then his expression shifted into something… nostalgic.

“ya know, an ex of mine used to make mochi just like this,” he said, almost absently. there was a smile in his voice, the kind that meant he was remembering something fondly.

your heart dropped.

you didn’t know much about satoru’s past relationships. he’d always brushed them off, calling them trivial, unimportant, saying he didn’t want you thinking about them because you were his present and his future.

but hearing him reminisce about this now, his voice soft, that slight faraway look in his eyes — it was like watching him slip into a part of his life you couldn’t touch.

“oh?” you managed, forcing a small smile, trying to keep your voice light. “did she make it like this?”

he shrugged, casually nodding. “pretty close! she had this way of makin’ it fluffy, and it was perfect every time. she’d always get so proud whenever i said i loved it.” he chuckled, taking another bite.

“guess you can’t beat a classic.”

the words stung.

you could feel them sinking in, twisting around every little insecurity you’d ever buried. the mochi that you’d poured effort into, hoping to surprise him, suddenly felt like a cheap imitation.

can’t beat a classic — as if she’d set the bar that you were just falling short of.

“do you… miss her?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, not even sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

he looked up, brow furrowing slightly, as if he couldn’t understand why you’d ask. “nah,” he said with a shrug, his tone dismissive. “she’s the past, y’know? ion keep up with stuff like that.”

you tried to nod, to smile, but the ache in your chest only deepened. “but… it seems like you remember a lot about her.”

he gave a short laugh, carefree, completely missing the weight of your words. “well, i mean, she made good mochi! can’t really forget that, right?” he took another bite, oblivious, as if he hadn’t just peeled back something raw in you.

your fingers tightened around the edge of the counter, struggling to keep your composure.

why couldn’t he see how much this hurt? you were standing right here, offering him something that you’d made with care, something meant just for him, and all he could talk about was someone else’s version.

“satoru…” you started, your voice catching. “i wanted this to be ours, you know? not… not just something that reminds you of her.”

he looked at you, blinking as if he didn’t quite understand why this was a big deal. “babe, you’re overthinking it. it’s just mochi.”

but it wasn’t just mochi.

it was the effort you’d put in, the way you’d hoped to make him feel loved, to build something unique between you two.

and instead, he’d brought someone else into this space, someone whose shadow you didn’t want hanging over you.

“it’s not just mochi to me,” you said, your voice breaking despite yourself. “i just… i wanted this to be special for us. but it feels like i’m just reminding you of someone else, someone i can’t… someone i can’t replace.”

he laughed again, an airy, dismissive sound. “come onnn, you’re taking this way too seriously.” he reached over, ruffling your hair in that teasing way of his, as if you were being silly, blowing this all out of proportion.

“you’re the one here with me, aren’t you? don’t worry about it so much.”

but his words were just empty air, failing to fill the growing hollow in your chest.

he wasn’t seeing it, wasn’t hearing the pain underneath your words, the way this had cut deeper than he realized.

to him, it was nothing, a forgotten past with no meaning, but to you, it was a reminder that you were still living in someone else’s shadow, always trying to measure up to memories that felt untouchable.

as he went back to eating, laughing over something trivial, your heart ached with the words left unspoken, with the hope that someday he’d understand without you having to break yourself to make him see.

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[leo-artista]

There are some things I've been thinking about in regards to Stan and Ford and their relationship with guilt that I don't really know how to express so I'm just gonna ramble about it here bc I need to get this out of my head somehow

Okay, so, Stan's one defining trait is that he feels guilty All The Time about a lot of stuff, and it's kinda what motivates most of his actions. The whole reason he spent 30 years working on the portal is because he felt guilty about accidentaly shoving Ford into it, and you could even argue that it's what leads him to sacrifice himself in the finale (which is actually very depressing if you think about it for too long)

Meanwhile Ford is... a bit more complicated. He does feel guilty, especially about being the reason the portal was made. But I think he also tries to shove guilt and other feelings aside in pursuit of what he thinks is more important- achieving his goals, studying anomalies, stopping Bill, etc, and therefore he doesn't really leave a lot of space to actually feel or process it, and I think it's the reason he can come across as egotistical and uncaring a lot of times

So because of this, I like to think that after weirdmageddon happens and they reconcile, there's a bit of a role reversal between them- Stanley's more at peace with his mistakes now that he's been forgiven, and he's not feeling as much self-guilt as he did before (although it still hasn't gone away completely), but now the one who's forced to come to terms with his guilt for his actions that directly or indirectly hurt other people is Ford since he didn't do that before, because he was more focused on other things and wasn't very self aware. And maybe he struggles with it, trying to make up for not being the best brother/friend he could have been to the people he cares about, thinking of how many chances he had to change and be better but chose not to because he was too self centered- and I think if it came to that, it would be Stanley who would help keep him grounded and prevent his self-blaming from spiraling out of control, because he knows better than anyone the kind of road that line of thinking leads to

Idk man I just like imagining how they would cope with shit like that- Ford making an effort to be more sensible and empathetic to other people's feelings and trying harder to show how much he cares, Stanley learning to not beat himself for his own mistakes after seeing his brother do the same thing and helping Ford understand that not everything was his fault and that circumstances also played a part in how everything turned out- idk I just feel like it would be something interesting to explore

[gallows-into-oblivion]

some disorganized thoughts that this spurred (please forgive me OP for co-opting your post, the "you" here is not you specifically)

there is no objective goodness that any of us can achieve. that is not a real thing that exists. but that truth is a frightening thing for many of us, and we would rather buy into the idea that we can be morally pure and good... by othering people who don't perform our ideals satisfactorily.

this is how cults function. this is how fascism functions. you are recreating the dynamics you profess to eschew. the mental gymnastics are considerable, but also quite understandable. you are afraid of being Bad and Wrong, because if you're Bad and Wrong, then you're undeserving of the material creature comforts that make life worth living, right? i mean, that's what you've been taught your whole life, so it must be true.

and the other thing that you've been taught, maybe not your whole life but certainly for a good chunk of it, is that the way to avoid being Bad and Wrong is by doing certain actions and avoiding doing certain other actions. even if you're called out for something, as long as it's not one of the Bad Wrong Things, you can point to your history of not doing those things and of doing the other things. and maybe then you won't be discarded by the people you've surrounded yourself with, who also live by these ever-morphing rules.

you live your life in fear of being found to be not good enough. you live your life in fear of someone else deciding that something you love is Bad and Wrong. better, instead, to avoid loving anything at all. better to hate things, to let out your pent-up resentment at how impossibly draining it is to live under this type of social system - better to find targets of that that aren't in your in-group, so you have less risk of being evicted from your in-group. (ah, we've found one of the causes of bigotry.)

as long as you don't mind poisoning yourself, it feels good to lash out at other people who you don't have a particular incentive to care about. if they wanted to be cared about - if they wanted to *deserve* to be cared about - they would be making more of an effort to be in your in-group, right? surely they know. they must know the rules that have never been spoken aloud and that you have intuited via a complex process of trial and error and being hurt and traumatized repeatedly.

and why would you mind poisoning yourself? life has never given you the time or space to question it.

the most dangerous part of this is that you believe that you *have* questioned it. you believe, in fact, that you are doing the right thing, that you are at least mostly immune to propaganda, that you cannot possibly be as susceptible to manipulation as other people. you believe that it's healthy to let off steam. you don't realize that it's an addiction. after all, you've done the work. you've overcome whatever things you've needed to overcome to get here. your work is done, isn't it? you can relax now, can't you?

except you can't. because there is always the risk that you will be found to be Bad and Wrong, and the only way to shake that is to stop living this way and - dare i say - touch some grass.

i can convince myself anyone deserves to be mistreated. i am also unshakable in my belief that i'm pure of heart and objectively a good person <- how you guys sound to me

[ultralightpoe]

Venomous- Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gahhhhhh, enjoy. Part 2 soon

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 7566

Requests: OPEN! [This work is a request]

[Thank you for the gif @another-nerdy-blog ]

Enjoy!

Inland Taipan 

Scientific Name: Oxyuranus microlepidotus

- 

“Despair is the price one pays when they set an impossible aim.” Dreykov murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spy as he circles you slowly. His footsteps fall into a pattern your brain can’t help but follow, a constant thud like a war drum. 

And though he claimed to be checking you for your next mission you couldn’t help but feel as though he was circling you like a predator would it’s prey. 

‘He needed you’, you tried to remind yourself, doing your best to ease yourself and hide the fear from him. Because the truth was he didn’t need you. You might be his top assassin in this moment but you were easily replaceable. 

Natasha herself had warned you before she escaped. 

“We are nothing but weapons here.” She had whispered to you one night, huddled together to keep warmth on the mission, arms wound tightly around each other. Your sister in arms, your sister in life since you didn’t know your own family. 

You had known she wanted out, you wanted the same thing, and though you weren’t mad she had made it out you were upset that she had done it without you. 

Countless times dreaming of a life beyond all of this. 

Lies. 

“Do you understand what this means, pretty girl?” Dreykov asks, pulling your attention away from your memories back to where he know stood behind you, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror while you shake your head. 

You were nervous he had caught you, that he knew you had hacked into his system three days ago to find your birth name, and so when you had been ordered down you were sure he was going to kill you. 

But instead he had you prep for an upcoming mission. 

“It means not to set yourself up for failure. You know your skill, and you know your limitations. You are my top weapon.” He explains, not breaking eye contact as you bite back your tongue to make a snide comment. “The mission I am about to send you on is long and I trust no one but you.”

“Thank you.” You mutter, nodding your head. 

“I’d like to introduce you to the key of this mission, a vital part.” The door opens a couple feet away, and a strong figure was soon led into the room, the second you spot him your entire body tightens in discomfort. 

Right, Natalia Romanov was gone and you had taken her place. Which meant you would now do duo missions with the Winter Soldier himself. 

And you knew the moment your eyes traced over his body that he would ruin everything. By the way his eyes traced over your own before his fists tightened you knew he was thinking the same about you. 

- 

Dr. Aquinos always had a noticeable look of pity that, no matter how many times you saw it, always set your stomach twisting in a mix of anger and embarrassment. But you were sure if you were to bring this up she would simply tell you that you were over reading, trying to find an excuse not to trust her. 

‘By the sounds of it you weren’t always this distrusting, why don’t we try to go back and think about when that began to change’. Blah blah blah. 

The clock on the wall was the only sound that could be heard in the room, with you sitting completely still in an effort to wait out this hour until you could leave, and her across from you sitting patiently with her classic notepad and pen. She often twirled it between her fingers when she was getting impatient, and you tried not to smirk at the sight of her doing it now. 

“I thought we had moved past this waiting game routine.”

“I thought you were over that sweater,” You huff, shrugging your shoulder a bit and giving her an empty glare, only to find that she narrows her eyes. Like a lion reading the challenge. 

“You look sick.” There it is again, that damn pity that made you want to scratch out her eyes, and maybe your own. You always hated her pity, or maybe you hated the ‘serene’ paintings around the room or the happy family photo that proudly hung from the wall next to the office door. The same photo that always dug a hole in your chest whenever you spotted it. 

It was a reminder and a slap in the face at the same time. Dr. Aquinos kids will never know that pain or suffering which isn’t their fault and yet you couldn’t stop the resentment that filled you whenever you saw that damn photo. The smile that reminded you of so many… so many children that deserved better. 

You hated this office, and yet you found yourself here once a damn week. 

“I believe the term you are looking for is sickening.” You flash her a wide smile, crossing your legs to seem more confident in this moment, trying not to seem like that movement alone caused you pain. 

“I mean sick.” She states, her tone still holding that fucking pity. “Was it a long night for you?”

Yes. It had been an extremely long night for you. The first half of the night had been spent on top of a roof in the freezing cold for surveillance, only the target had shown up 40 minutes later than he normally did which meant you had an extra 40 minutes of the winter air making you shiver and tightening your bones. Which made the hip injury you tried to avoid all the worse, hard to move around. 

By the time you managed to limp your way home, scarfing down  the small rations of food into your mouth before shoving a pain pill down and diving into the cot you kept in the closet for safety. 

You had gotten maybe an hour worth of sleep before the terrors dragged you awake in a pool of your own sweat, panic clinging to your every move. 

Your hip still hurt, the throbbing beginning to work it’s way into your spine, but you had a performance to play here. “Not really, I slept through the night and woke up in my soft warm bed.”

“You’re not still sleeping on the military cot in the closet then?”

“No,” You lie, enjoying the way it slips past your lips without a notch. “I’ve got a queen size bed now.”

Yet another lie, your apartment held a duffel bag of your mission gear and suit. One dresser of normal clothes, the cot in the closet. That was all you needed. 

And it’s pathetic, the way you once dreamed of this for so long just to be living this miserable existence. 

“It’s common to miss it, you know, there is no shame in that. It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” She mumbles softly, and you hate the way she can read you that easily. 

It was true, you missed the red room. You missed your sisters and you missed the routine. You never needed to be someone in the rooms, out here in the world? A new story completely. 

You were nothing, no one. 

All you had was a name and even that didn’t seem like it belonged to you. 

“Why don’t we keep expanding on your years in the rooms….” She switches the conversation, knowing you both had hit a dead end, choosing a new route. “You told me a little about it before and I noticed that most widows have specialty names built off of that name itself. But you didn’t, can you explain why you were named….the ‘viper’ was it?”

“Yes.” Ironically the way you bite this out makes the ending sound like your very own hiss, all you needed now was a rattle and black eyes. 

“Can you explain to me how you got that name?”

“Because of…. Him.” Even referencing him left a sore spot in your chest, sweat beading the back of your neck. 

“Ah, Bucky Barnes.” She hums, and you hated that people called him that. You hated that he got his name and his recovery. He was the Soldat, he would never change and of course people were falling for his trap. 

You had long ago. 

“The SOLDAT gave me the name on our mission.” You sneer, “What time is it?”

The clock had stuck, you were sure of it. And when she reached to check the time on her watch you caught sight of her notes with the words HEALTH RISK circled and underlined, her family photo once again making you a bit nauseous as she hums out and nods to the door to let you know the time was up. 

“I look forward to our next session.”

“I don’t.” It was the truth, and you enjoyed the fact that you could speak the truth with her even if she got a little too close. “But I wish you a good week, I hope your family is okay.”

The smile that spreads across her face as you leave makes you angry, but not at her, at yourself. 

She was right, you were a health risk. To yourself and to others, but that wouldn’t matter soon, the second you completed your final task you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

The list of names you had made for yourself, your last mission on this miserable life would be to take out the people that hurt you. 23 names total, and at the very end of the list in the neatest handwriting you could muster was ‘The Soldat’. 

You would leave this earth, but he would leave it first. 

- 

Alternative name/s:

Fierce Snake, Small-scaled Snake, Lignum Snake 

-

It was easy to ignore the widow,  she liked to keep to herself in the corner of the small safe house they were keeping in on the first part of the mission. 

A list of names, 118 total, that Hydra and the Red Room needed gone as soon as possible. Risks that needed to be handled. And the Soldat was used to doing missions on his own but they paired him with the Widow to help. 

And at first he was sure she would be trouble, but he was proven to be wrong since the Widow seemed just as sure as him that she didn’t want to be near him. 

Right now she sat in the corner, crisscrossing, taking time to clean all her knives with the polishing kit that most of the Hydra safe houses had to keep their gear clean. Her hands worked seamlessly, making sure that the knife shown under the light, and he couldn’t seem to look at anything else but her. 

Maybe the Soldat was annoyed that she had used the polishing kit before he could. Maybe he just liked seeing that someone else had the same routine he did on these missions. Or maybe he was interested in the vials sitting beside her. 

As if she could read his thoughts she reached for one, keeping the knives before her on the ground as she twisted the cap to the vial and moved to pour the liquid over each weapon before taking what was left and he was confused by the fact that she was putting on her suit.

He looked closer, realizing that there were vials hidden within her sleeve. He wanted to know what they were for until she looked up to give him a knowing smile, teeth flashing in a way that pissed him off. 

He turned away again, so she can go back to doing her hair and looking at her reflection. 

But it all made sense the night of the first hunt. She had started at the other end of the house and planned to make their way through to find their target, and by the time he did find her she already had the target within her clutch. 

His arm twisted within her legs to keep him in place with one hand pushing his head so his neck was exposed while her other wrist snaps to reveal two puncture points at the knuckles of her suit made to look like fangs. Only a flash of those before they reach his neck. 

She removes herself immediately and he rushes to get the target, worried that he would fight back and wondering what would make the widow so stupid to let him go before he realizes that the Target wasn’t moving at all. Instead he seems paralyzed as he died slowly. 

When he whirls back to the Widow she is once again facing a mirror, fixing her hair and lipstick before turning to him with a smile that twisted his chest. “Are there any more loose ends?” 

The russian falls off his tongue with ease and she narrows her eyes at him to tilt her head. 

“Tous les détails sont pris en charge,” [All the loose ends are taken care of.] She shrugs, twirling her hair before spinning on her toes and swaying her hips to walk away. His brain racks for a moment, never great at French which she had realized on the first day, and followed the brat down the hall. 

He risks a look down the hall where Marvin Montys child slept and spots the blood splatter on the wall, before following her. 

At least the widow could do her job. 

- 

“You’re making a lot of progress, Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums out, nodding her head as she watches him from her regular spot. She hasn’t scribbled on her notepad in the past 30 minutes of their hour-long session, and he hopes that’s a good sign. “But I’d like to dive a bit deeper for a moment, cut to the harsh point if you don’t mind.”

“Not like I have a choice here Doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny,” She smirks for a second before sitting up a bit. “There’s a patch of memories that you said helped you break from the Soldier with Steve. Made it easier, your own words.” 

“There was. About a month before I was sent out to get Steve….. I had just gotten back from another mission.”

“The one with the ‘Viper’ is that correct?”

He has to clear his throat in attempt to fight off the tightness, feeling his chest constrict in pain as he nods. 

“It was a long mission. I hadn’t been away from the chair for that long before and she managed to break through every crack formed. Or at least we thought she did.”

“Have you tried to find her? Since you have come back?” 

“I started trying to find her the second Steve found me.” He explains, thinking back to when he first started tracking her down. But there was nothing, even going through all the programs he could within the Red Rooms files, he couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere after him. 

He was terrified, because if he couldn’t find a single trace of you that might have meant you were gone and he didn’t think he could survive in a world that he knew didn’t have you in it. 

But then Natasha freed the Red Room while he was ‘snapped’ and the world he came back to was a world with the Widows and all their secrets revealed. And that’s when he found Yelena….. Well Yelena had found him. 

She had been suffering from the loss of her sister, and had taken to finding all the widows herself to make sure they were fine. She was the one person in this world that had the information he needed. 

Sam, the new captain america, had poured over the intel with him. Your intel, the trail to find you. 

“You sound as if you have.”

“Not yet, but I’m close.” He nods. “I have this feeling in my chest, that I’m almost there. That I’ve almost got her. And I can give her what she’s always wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“A candle that smells like orchids by a front door where you can hang your keys. A door mat decorated to invite kids to trick or treat on Halloween. Curtains that catch the light in the morning.” None of the things he mentioned were his dreams, not until she had mentioned them. 

“I hope you get those things.” He does too. And he was close, matter fact he only had 3 more days before Sam and himself went to find you. 

- 

The inland taipan's venom is the most potent of any snake in the world. A single bite contains enough venom to kill around 100 adult humans. The venom is a cocktail of enzymes that paralyze nerve endings, destroy muscle tissue, and cause severe bleeding

- 

A month with the Soldat had been easy keeping to yourself, 2 months had shown you so much more. 

The first being he was extremely grumpy in the mornings, no matter what. Even before you both had begun getting along you had noticed that he hated them. Every move he made was tight, He would rip open the ration packets and stomp his feet just about anywhere. He would do weapons checks so that all you would hear were the clicks and twists of his gun and the metal hand grabbing everything. 

Then he would do bed checks, coming over to the cot you had claimed as your own to throw you off it and search through your stuff. 

Month three, 3 targets in, you had completely learned his morning routine. And since you had been on watch last night you got the gift of seeing it in real time. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning in his sleep and mumbling something about a Steve he sat up right at 5am, launching himself out of his cot and taking in his surroundings. He glared at you, which made you smirk as he passed to head to the bathroom. He stretched in there, too proud to admit that even the Soldat needed to loosen his muscles. You heard the water run telling you he was right on schedule with cleaning himself up and you took the chance to rest your head on the small pillow to close your eyes before he stomps back. 

You know he is reaching for the ration packets without even opening your eyes, and you know he uses his teeth to tear it open in hopes to release some of the tension he had built up. You know he is already snatching your own ration packet to prepare it, moving to start the kettle and prepare the bowls. 

You have another 15 minutes of him checking his weapons, hearing him grunt with every weapon cleaned and polished before making sure they were all strapped into their holsters. The kettle starts ringing and he has the habit of rushing to grab it before it bothered you, and you always thought it was the most human thing to do, like a glimpse into who he would have been if he hadn’t become this monster. 

The smell of cream of wheat fills the air, and you hear his steps come to your cot, right on time. 

In the beginning he used to snatch you up to fling you, now he merely reached out a hand to guide you up without an ounce of aggression before he searched through your stuff. And normally you would go grab the rationed breakfast and get ready but today you chose to head to his own cot, sliding into it. 

You were just tired, and you really didn’t care as he turned to glare at you while you curled up, pretending that you weren’t basking in the smell of the leather and soap he wore, pressing your face into the cloth of the cot. A small ounce of fear fills you when he marches forward, only for him to pull the blanket up and cover your shoulders. 

And the warmth fills your body, black filling your vision as you fall asleep once more, this time in the Soldats bed. 

You wake a little later, eyes snapping around the room to check everything, finding the Soldat sitting over his tech to watch your next target. He snaps his head to you the second you sit up, eyes tracing over you before nodding in contempt and turning back to the task at hand. 

When you stand from the cot to grab your gear you are shocked to find that he had already prepared it for you. 

Not only had the Soldat let you sleep, but he had helped you prepare. 

And that small tug in your chest is a weakness, you know it, but that doesn’t stop you from turning to watch him work. 

If he wasn’t in this life you were sure he would have been a good man. 

You felt bad lying to him,  but you had to because good man or not he was a soldier first. And a good soldier would take you out for your weakness, a good soldier would kill you for what you were doing. 

- 

The worst part of waking up was the fact that you couldn’t escape the dreams and memories even with your eyes open. Most think that it’s over once you wake, but for you? Never. Every move is haunted by the past, every breath another painful punishment, and everywhere you look is just another reminder. There was nowhere you could escape. 

So when you manage to pull yourself from the nightmare, sitting up with your clothes drenched in a cold sweat, the darkness of the closet surrounding you like a blanket of protection. 

You’re not there….You remind yourself. If it’s dark then they are leaving you alone. 

And when you sit up, pain shoots through your hip at every single move, letting yourself out of the closet you begin your routine. 

3 am, a slight shower. Not long in fear you would be caught and in part you didn’t want to run too much water. Brush teeth, dress in suit. 

3:15, limp to the kitchen and start boiling water before you reach into your duffel to grab the pain pills you kept hidden away. The prescription written in your name feels wrong, like aren’t actually yours, like you are living the life of a stranger. But you remind yourself it doesn’t matter anyways as you shove it in your mouth, going back to scarf the cream of wheat down and then you head out for an intel session. 

You never take the door, instead you snatch your duffel and remove a little of the newspaper to slide out and climb down the fire escape. 

You take back roads, your static sounder messing up any footage of yourself the cameras might have caught. And soon enough you were prepping yourself to watch your target, venom sitting in the wrists of your suit, a little bit of that past routine giving you something to focus on. 

20 more names on the list until you would go after the Soldat, 21 more names total. 21 names until you are finished with it all. 

All you had to do was wait for the perfect time to kill this one. 

- 

The bite of the Inland Taipan with envenomation can be rapidly fatal, it can take as early as 30 minutes

- 

The Widow had worn on the Soldat, a shame to admit. 

A routine had built where it shouldn't have and now instead of working around each other they worked with each other. They made the rations together, ate together, cleaned their weapons and reloaded them together. 

When he would sit to watch the intel she began coming to sit with him, if not to watch it herself she would lean her head against him and find something to busy herself with while he worked. 

But the biggest change was the banter. 

Gone were the days of him grunting and glaring, she would refuse that now. Instead they found themselves going back and forth, but it was never serious, mostly teasing. 

She would speak in French to piss him off because she knew the Soldat struggled to keep up with it. He would come out of the shower and lean over where she slept to make the water drip down on her while she tried to sleep. She would trip him as he tried to get dressed and he would pull out strands of hair while she did it. 

Back and forth, push and pull. 

Today, when they were planning to start the intel stage on the next target it had turned out to be a downpour of rain, and normally he would go anyway. And yet, when you went to grab your suit he reached out his flesh hand to stop you, pulling you to sit back down. 

“Today, we rest.” He orders, watching your eyes narrow at the russian before you nod and stand, keeping ahold of his hand as you head to where you both keep the stash of rations. 

This safe house was freezing, and it made him miss the last one, not to mention this safe house only held one cot. The best part about this safe house? 

It had amazing rationing food. 

So when you shook the pack to heat it up he made sure to stay close and start the kettle. Keeping so close that he could always feel your arm against him. 

And once the rations were ready you both huddled together against the counters for cover so you could let your walls down a bit, sitting side by side. You shared your beef and potatoes, he shared his spaghetti, eating out of the portion packs and drinking the tea. But his favorite part about this new routine was when the conversation turned to dreams. 

“If I wasn’t in this program……” You hum, and he can’t help but watch your every movement, the way you lick your hips and scratch your forehead in contemplation. “I would have a big house.” 

He huffs out a laugh, shoving the last of his food in mouth as you shrug. “Yes, a big house. And…… and I would have a candle that smells like orchids so whenever people enter they think it smells nice….. And maybe a rug outside the door so they can see it when the kids trick or treat.”

He can’t help the smile that forms from listening about your dream, grabbing your trash to throw away before cleaning out the mugs you both used. 

“Oh! I’d have kids. At least 7!” You continue, following him before shuffling to tech case to find your camera set up. He knows you’re going to triple check that everything is working to busy yourself, something you often did whenever you brought up the idea of kids. 

Widows couldn’t have kids, this he knew. They all received the procedure. To stop periods, to keep their bodies from transforming too much and too prevent pregnancies whenever Dreykov sent them on seduction missions. And before the Soldat had met you none of that had really mattered to him. 

But now, the thought of you being used like that, it made him furious. And he tried to figure out ways to prevent it, ways to stay attached to you as a mission partner forever. 

But that would never happen, they would never allow that. So he tries not to think about it, instead he moves forward to pull you away from the tech, pulling you to the cot so you both can lay down, pulling the blanket up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Goodnight,” You whisper in french, and pinches your arm to make you laugh before letting himself fall asleep. \

- 

Bucky had the defense of saying that they had tried knocking first, and that was a lame defense at that. But he thought about his arguments as he picked the lock with ease, pushing the door open and letting Sam take the lead. 

At the last second his flesh hand grabs at the Captain America suit, pulling his friend back to warn him. “A quick heads up, she doesn’t fight like the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, don’t let her wrap her legs around you and don’t let her knives come into contact, small slash or not they are all laced in venom. And above all avoid getting punctured by any of her weapons.” He explains. 

“I thought we were going in to reason with her.”

“We are.” Bucky sighs, his chest constricting in pain. “She’s just a little lost. We’ve all been there.”

The need for revenge was strong. He had been there himself, Yelena had been there. Many widows have been there. And you were currently handling that yourself, handling all the trauma yourself. And that thought hurt him. 

Sam had agreed to help, to come with him and find you, talk you down from this path Captain America style. 

So they stood together as they pushed the door in, searching every inch of the apartment for you until they realized you weren’t here. So instead they looked around for where you might be. 

“I thought all the Hydra Safe Houses had been torn apart.” Sam mutters, admiring the work you did on the windows, newspaper covering nearly every inch while Bucky moves to the closet where he had seen the bed in their search for you. 

He could imagine you nestled up in the cot, surrounded in the dark. The way you used to pull the covers completely over your head to hide from the sun and use your feet to pull the blanket in so you were fully cocooned. 

But this….. None of this was you. Countless times talking about your dreams and this was the outcome? You deserved better. 

“Everything you told me about her just doesn’t seem right here.” Sam mutters once more moving to the kitchens and digging through the cabinets. “Military rations and tea. That’s all.”

“She was so full of life, used to dream of her freedom. She needs help.” Bucky snaps, anger beginning to course through him as he heads to the kitchen. One of your biggest things when you were paired was hiding the tech when you left so no one would have access. 

Your favorite spot was always the bottom left cabinet and sure enough it all sat there. 

“Brilliant.” Sam smiles, leaning over the laptop as Bucky hacks his way in to see what you have been watching. It takes a moment for the footage to load, and once it does he finds video footage of a man walking around his apartment in a towel. 

“Live feed.” Bucky mumbles. 

“That’s Eaiton,” Sam sighs, leaning forward as the man walks down a hall and heads into what looks to be a master bedroom. The footage follows the movement and when the feed changes to another camera you had hidden Sam whistles. “And that is NOT Eaitons wife.”

“Course not.” Bucky chuckles, pulling out his phone to enter in the address on the intel. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing much. Was on Congress, just got removed but they didn’t announce it. Kept the whole thing hush hush. Last I talked to Yelena she was looking into his name, it’s why I recognized him so quickly.”

“The address isn’t far off, if we take the back roads we can avoid traffic.” Bucky explains, beginning to lead the way out of the apartment while already dialing on his phone. It rings and rings and rings.  Once the call fails he tries again and again and again. 

Finally it’s picked up, a brash voice filling his ears, out of breath. “Who the fuck keeps calling?!”

“Jared Eaiton, I’m calling to inform you that your life is in danger. I advise you to not hang up.” Bucky starts, watching Sams wings expand so he can take off as he straddles his bike. “I need you to do a couple things for me, starting with having you and the women you are with get dressed as normally as possible. I need you to act natural.”

“Why? For what?”

“Sir, there is a Widow somewhere near your apartment,” He explains, though part of him wants to let you get your revenge he knew you were better than this. You were more than a widow. “Step two, are you ready?”

- 

Inland taipans are generally calm and reclusive, preferring to escape from trouble. However, they will defend themselves and strike if provoked, mishandled, or prevented from escaping

- 

The Soldat moved easily with you, striding side by side as you prepared to take out the target. And normally you loved his proximity, but today it did nothing but give you anxiety. 

Something he seemed to be picking up on. 

Before you could split from him to follow the plan he grabs your elbow slowly, making sure to not trigger the fang puncture on your wrist, pulling you close to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t like this plan.”

“It’s a plan we have done many times.” You try to laugh, giving him your best pretty smile to push him off the track. It only makes it worse. 

“There is something wrong with you today.” He grunts out, keeping you close. “I don’t want to separate.”

“We do this, this is the plan.” You huff, “Don’t stress grumpy man.” 

You lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes narrow at you a little more, but you smile like nothing is wrong once more. Leaving his arms and heading off. 

You didn’t have time, he had been a little grumpy this morning which meant he will work faster on the mission, and you had two kids to smuggle out before he caught you. 

You had made sure to take the side closest to their room for this mission, climbing up to the second story window and sliding in like a shadow. It takes 5 steps until you are in their room, and your heart expands the second you see them. 

They slept so soundly, looking so peaceful that you knew you were a villain just for having to wake them up. But you do, keeping a hand over their mouths to keep them calm as you order them in english. 

“I need you to listen.” You order, as they both try to move away. “Follow me. Now.” 

The boy jumps to do so, the girl however holds her ground until you get on her level. “Listen to me, you and your brother are in danger here. And unless you want him to be hurt you will follow me.”

And so they do. 

You work quickly, breaking a vase as you pass, spraying a bottle of fake blood to make it look like splatter before you have them hold onto you as you crawl out the same way you entered. 

The Agent you worked with most the time was already standing in the streetlight waiting for you to deliver them. “Go with him, he will keep you safe.”

The boy, once again, does not wait to run and you’re sure he is still half asleep. The girl keeps a firm clutch on your hand, forcing you to kneel as a loud bang sounds out, letting you know the Soldat is nearly done. 

“I need you to go.” You whisper, pushing some of the hair from her face and tracing her cheek with your fingers. “He’ll take care of you ….. I promise.”

She nods, crying, but runs off. 

And you don’t have time, but you watch anyways. The way the agent scoops them up and hugs them close, both their arms wrapped tightly around him. You envy it, and you hate it all in the same go. 

They will never see their parents again, they will never know the safety of their home. After today they are ruined. 

But you could at least make sure they get into the car safely before heading back, out of breath with tears falling down your face. 

You’re so panicked about time that you slip on your way in, slipping in the fake blood and slamming into the broken glass of the vase right as the Soldat comes around the corner in a fury. 

You panic, the rage written on his face makes you think he knows. He must know. This was the end and he would go back and find the kids, This will all be ruined. 

But the second he kneels in front of you the rage disappears, instead he is pulling at your limbs so he can look you over, checking you for any injuries you realize. 

“It’s not my blood.” You try to explain. 

“It is.” He snaps, eyes narrowing as he pulls a piece of glass from your hip. “You’re hurt.”

And when you look down you realize it is in fact some of your blood, since you had fallen on the vase. He pulls you to look back at him, keeping his hand on your jaw. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t check for the kids, he merely drags you away. 

- 

The target was acting weird, both him and his prostitute were. You knew better than that, and you refused to let this one slip away today, you were so sick of watching him and his hookers. 

So you grabbed your gear, and went to work. 

Never take the front door, that was the first rule. So you climbed onto the roof of his apartment building, finding the skylight and carving your way in, sliding down on a rope to land on your feet and pull out your knife prematurely. 

Immediately you know something is off, the sharp feeling in your spine makes you feel like there is a predator near. 

A predator you know all too well by the smell of leather. 

You can’t help the hiss that passes your lips as you whirl to find him, kicking out to knock him off his feet as soon as you can. Only he was prepared for that, catching your foot with his metal, pulling you close only to barely dodge the knife you slash at him, his eyes wide. 

You take his shock to your favor, slashing at him again, his metal arm coming up to protect him. The clash rings out and you hiss again, making him grunt out as you distribute the weight. Only to get knocked off your ass by another figure. 

You had been so distracted with your hate for the Soldat that you missed the red white and blue suit.

You waste no time to twist and attack at them, turning feral with the need to kill.  

And then the fight turns 2 against one. Every slash you make is dodged by a metal shield or a metal arm, every kick is met with one of their own, every punch is caught and pushed away. They both track your movements well, easily even. 

You kick the chest of the Captain, sending him reeling back, throwing a knife to trap his sleeve to the ground as you turn back to the Soldat and move to stab the knife down, he catches it between the crook of his metal arm, grunting out to keep you further back. 

“I don’t want to do this.” He grunts out as you push down with the knife, hissing. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need?” You laugh bitterly. “I want to do this.”

And you almost got it until he kicked out your feet and sent you reeling back. 

You were getting desperate, panicked, and though you knew better than to let yourself get this way you couldn’t help it. So with no true aim you threw the knife, the Soldat catching it with one hand as you charge at him, triggering the fangs as you use his own knee to launch up, your knee pressing on his shoulder with your right hand pulling his hair to expose his neck while he drops the knife. 

Instead of pulling you off his arms come up to catch you, like natural instinct. And you are pathetic because you hesitate, this is your chance to get him and yet you feel tears in your eyes as you can’t even push your hand to get him. 

And then you’re being thrown as something hits your back, air leaving your lungs. 

Pain laces through you as you fly off him, the shield flying back to the Captain while you fall to the ground. 

Not only do you feel the pain in your back but your hip hits the floor and you cry out, struggling to get back to your feet to keep fighting. 

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” The man in the USA suit orders, pointing at you like you are a dog. “Stop.”

You hiss while the Soldat chuckles, wiping some of the blood from his lip. “Listen-”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging out to attack but it’s no use as you crumble to the ground, your hip giving out. He’s quick to go to help you, only to be pushed back as you reach to snatch another knife only for his boot to step on it. 

“You used to be better at this.” He huffs out, still breathing heavily as the other one comes closer. 

You want to kill him, to yell at him and hit him. You want to tell him that he’s the reason for all of this. But the tears are falling and your hip is throbbing. 

You’re useless. 

“Kill me.” You snap. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

You watch as his face crumbles, pain lacing his features while his partner takes charge. 

“We are here to help you, that is all.” He starts. “You want revenge, that’s understandable. But there are better ways, I promise you.”

“Better ways?” You hiss out a laugh through the tears. “You’re kidding me.”

“You want to ruin these men, and I understand.” He leans down, and you risk a look to the Soldat, who is watching you with a devastating look, you are forced to turn back to the other to avoid getting sick. “You have information on them, you can testify-”

“What? So they can get out of it?” 

“No, they could serve time in-”

“COULD. They could.”

“Then we get revenge.” It’s the Soldat that says this, his voice tight. “We will, I promise. You work with Sam and I and we will get intel on them all, enough so that they don’t have a chance. But no killing.”

You look back and forth between them, watching as they have a silent conversation between them, before the captain finally nods with a deep sigh. 

Soldat turns back to you, kicking the knife to you gently. “Come on.”

“I can get you a full pardon.” His partner offers. “Full pardon of all crimes within the red room to now. So long as the three of us work together.”

“My entire list?” You sneer, risking a look to the Soldat one more time. 

“Entire list.” He nods, watching you closely. 

And then it clicks for you. You’re trapped here, there is no doubt. But if you could get closer, to trap him in, you could finish your promise to yourself. 

You can kill him. 

So, with a final hiss and tears falling down your face you nod slowly, clutching your hands into fists as you answer with a ‘deal.’

- 

The inland taipan is a specialist hunter of mammals, and its venom is adapted to kill warm-blooded species. The venom acts quickly to kill the prey before they can bite back or escape

- 

The Soldat helps you the entire way, even though you weren’t actually hurt, which you tried to tell him. But the arguments were no use, he would hear none of it, instead he pushed to carry you until you both made it home. 

He hauls you to the bathroom, setting you down to start the water and let it heat up before removing your suit as slowly as possible. Once the suit of off he helps you sit down so the cut is exposed and he can clean it. 

The fact that such a small cut would bother him so much nearly makes you laugh, but it also gives you butterflies, and you wonder if this is how normal people feel. So you lean forward, grabbing his attention. And without thinking you kiss him, your lips meeting his as you melt into him. 

This would change everything, and you know it, but you don’t care. And he didn’t either by the way his arms wrap around you, melting into the kiss just as you had. 

- 

You were going to kill the Soldat, it was something you had promised yourself long ago. In the darkened cell they had kept you in, near dead, the only thing keeping you from giving up was that promise. 

‘I will not leave this earth unless he is gone from it’ 

You would kill him, this was fact, no matter what you had to do. Once you did that you could kill yourself.  This final mission was yours.

-

[lostsyren]

i have a request for a scene based on these seemingly cut out scenes in episode 4 for part 1

https://x.com/rafeslut/status/1848180750941552843

maybe how it would've turned out if it had not been cut out and how it led to that contemplation scene and eventually influenced his decisions in episode 5 in goat island, idk if that makes sense

𓆉 ❀ 🫧 the right thing

{a/n: thank you for the request, sorry it took me so long to get to it, but I hope you enjoy it and I hope it’s what you expected of the deleted scenes!}

{summary: what happened between rafe and sofia after the showdown in s4 episode 4 on the beach, and a little context to the deleted scene pictures we got from them!}

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

It was downright cruel the way they were all treating Kiara and her friends, Sofia thought, face etched in concern as Ruthie plowed straight through the group all waving their hands at her to stop– to no avail despite their persevering efforts. Ruthie was like that, in the months Sofia got to know her– relentless.

Sofia glanced over at Rafe, who had a small smirk on his face, as if he was trying to hide his glee, but failed, even letting out a little laugh. Her discomfort grew, squirming as she listened to the defensive outcry coming from the other side of the beach.

She inhaled deeply, wrapping her arms around herself. At least it was over now.

But then Sofia heard the low rumble of the engine revving yet again, her frown returning.

The jeep sped up, sending sand flying in its wake, as Ruthie and Topper once gain hurtled past the pogues, who all dove for cover, before Ruthie tipped out her drink over Kiara.

Sofia’s heart sunk for the girl, as she lay on the ground, crestfallen with her hair dripping wet. The way Sofia’s supposed kook friends treated all the pogues made her wonder if they’d do the same thing to her, if it wasn’t for Rafe. The thought made her nauseous, imagining being humiliated the way Kiara was right now and like she was a couple days ago, when she’d overheard Rafe, Topper and Ruthie ridicule her behind her back.

Sofia looked over to Rafe, she didn’t know why, (perhaps for backup, perhaps for comfort), but he remained indifferent, gazing at the scene across the sand with a cool stoicism, lazily sipping at his beer. She shook her head in disdain, finding his behaviour repulsive. She didn’t care about Ruthie, Topper and the others– she cared about Rafe, still, even after he slandered their relationship to his friends.

Sofia spotted Kiara stride over to them, her face twisted in anger.

“Here she comes guys, on a warpath– get ready.” Topper teased with a deriding tone. Sofia observed from a safe distance, mouth still pursed in reproach.

“Look what you did– is this ok?” She yelled, holding out her hands. Sofia peered over to see a baby turtle, crushed in her palms, granules of sand stuck to its lifeless body. Ruthie glanced away, her mouth twisting in an unreadable emotion.

“No look at it! There was a turtle hatch you idiots– you drove right over it!”

Sofia had to avert her gaze, a sickness settling in the pit of her stomach. She hated being on the wrong side of this– being one of the people Kiara was yelling at.

“I understand you’re upset Kiara-“ Topper began.

“I’m more than upset Topper.”

“Alright but it was only one and I mean look,” Ruthie pointed out, tone casually cruel, “there’s so many more of them. A hatch is what? A hundred turtles? Most of them don’t make it anyway.”

“I think it’s like one in a thousand.” Topper added

Kiara shook her head in disbelief. “So?”

“So I think you should go throw that to the seagulls– cycle of life right?” Ruthie plastered on a scornful smirk, her eyes squinted as she stared down Kiara. Sofia could feel the tension fizzle between them.

“Cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck?” Kiara jumped up suddenly, shoving Ruthie square in the chest.

Sofia bristled in shock, her arms falling away from around her waist as she stepped back from the commotion. Looking around for Rafe, she found him topping up his empty beer bottle, just disregarding the spat completely. She couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance at his as insouciance whilst Topper pulled back Ruthie and JJ reined in Kiara.

“Your move Kie, what are you gonna do?” Ruthie goaded.

Topper held out his hands placatingly, “I would just walk away ok? We’re not doing this.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you people.” Kiara avowed, Sofia glancing down at her feet at her words, a sinking shame tricking its way down her insides, before Kiara spun around back to her friends.

“Yeah that’s right, go back to your side Kie!” Ruthie called out, right before Kiara shoved their speaker to the ground.

“You come near her or any of us ever again, and I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ warned, before joining Kiara as they walked away.

Sofia hated this. Hated all of it. Her frown was stark on her face as she ignored the chitters of laughs and fragments of conversation around her, from people she barely knew.

She huffed a deep breath, before stepping back to look for Rafe– someone familiar, someone comfortable.

“I mean did you see that?” Ruthie commented as she walked past Rafe, Sofia hovering a couple feet away from him. She was waiting for him to say something…anything. He could’ve put a stop to this– Topper would’ve listened to him. But no, all he did was watch in silence, drinking like he always did.

“I saw it. All good shit, Ruthie.” He chuckled. Sofia crossed her arms around herself yet again. All good? It wasn’t all good, and she wished that her boyfriend had done something. These were his friends, not hers.

Sofia waited for him to come her way, her hands resting on her hips, face a picture of dismay. He locked eyes with her, and she hoped he’d apologise, criticise what had just occurred. say anything, but all he did was look at her with embarrassment, as if he forgot she was there.

“Not cool Rafe.” She scorned, as he walked past her to take a seat in one of the beach chairs, inciting Sofia’s rage to burn hot and fast.

“They deserved it,” he muttered.

“I wanna leave.” She instructed, her lips twisting in ire when he had to audacity to glance back at her with shock.

“Now!” She spun around, not waiting for him to follow, ready to gather all her things and head home, her mind swirling with shame, rage and disgust.

“What do you mean you wanna leave? We just got here!” He called out from behind her, as she frantically stuffed the sun screen and lotion into her beach bag.

“You serious right now Rafe? You feel good about what just happened?”

Some of the people surrounding them cast glances their way, beginning to whisper and quietly snicker behind shrouding hands.

“Ooo Rafe’s in trouble,” one person chided.

“Why’s she so pressed for?” Another pestered.

“Because she’s a pogue herself– didn’t you know?”

Sofia didn’t care though, but she could tell Rafe did.

“Look just chill ok? I thought you wanted to sunbathe?”

“Yeah well I don’t anymore– I want to go home.” Sofia pulled her tube top over her bikini as Rafe warily eyed everyone around them.

“Baby, just stop a minute yeah?” He tried a more consoling tone, which only cause Sofia to get even more angry.

She stepped through her white skirt, slipping on her sandals, and hoisted her beach bag over one shoulder, before wrapping her arms across her chest.

“I’m going.” She said with a stern face, turning on her heel ready to leave the beach.

Rafe ran a hand through his cropped hair, cursing under his breath before following Sofia down the sandy trail where his car was parked.

“Why are you so mad for?” Rafe wandered after her, easily keeping up with Sofia’s irascible stride with his long legs.

“The fact you have to ask me that is making more angry.”

“Oh come on, it was Ruthie and Topper, what was I supposed to do?”

Sofia stopped in her tracks, swivelling around to face him. They were far away from everyone else at the beach, protected by the thicket of trees encircling them.

“You could’ve said something– anything, but instead you just stood there and watched.”

“Yeah well I didn’t see you speak up either.” He muttered with an eye roll.

She scoffed, piercing him with her unwavering stare, “because in case you’ve forgotten Rafe, I’m a pogue too. You heard they way they were speaking about them– how do you think they’d react if another pogue told them to shut up huh?”

Sofia’s words were thinly veiled from her own insecurities, her hurt and rage at his previous comments resurfacing like flotsam that thrashed in the waters of her heart.

“I’m not living with a pogue…I have standards…”

“You’re not…” he trailed off, for once thinking before her spoke. “it’s different.” He didn’t elaborate how it was different though.

“Whatever Rafe, I saw you laugh and smile as if it was just some big joke– it wasn’t funny, it was straight up bullying.”

Rafe let out a short laugh, “bullying?” He scoffed, “that’s nothing compared to what they all did, they deserve whatever bad shit comes their way Sofia.”

“Yeah well I want no part in it.”

She left him, heading to his car, getting in the passengers seat with a sigh. She hated fighting with him. They both could be so different sometimes, and when they didn’t see eye to eye, it was never a good thing. She was stubborn like her father and Rafe was so…rageful– never towards her though, but when he felt strongly about something, she could feel it radiating off his body in scalding waves.

A moment passed before he got into the drivers seat. She could see him pace the leaf-strewn path, his ring clad fingers running though his buzz cut and he breathed in and out. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

The car door shut behind him with a loud bang, Sofia unable to see his face since she’d twisted away from him.

“Are you going to be mad at me for the rest of the day now?” He asked, tone sharp, as he tried to make eye contact with her.

Sofia just shrugged non-committaly, gazing out of the window.

“I did nothing wrong Sofia.” He tried to reason.

“You didn’t do the right thing either.”

Rafe didn’t respond to that.

She felt his hand hover over her knee, “look Sof, I don’t want to fight with you ok? Especially over something as stupid as this, yeah?”

She turned round to face him, her mouth still folded in a frown, “I want to go.”

He retracted his hand from her leg with a deep sigh, “fine– stay mad.”

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

Rafe had tried everything to get her to speak to him normally again. When they reached the house she’d left straight away to have a shower, locking the door– she never usually locked the door.

And when she got out, she got dressed and went and made her own dinner as the sun began to set, the sky doused in the orange glow of the Outer Banks.

Rafe entered the kitchen, hoping to try and make amends yet again.

“Hey baby, what you making?” He murmured gently, sliding his hands around her waist from behind. His fingers brushed away the strands of her freshly shampooed hair, the decadent smell of strawberries filling his nose as he inched his head down to press soft kisses against her neck.

She quickly shrugged him off.

“I’m not in the mood Rafe.”

Stepping back, he tried to hide his dejected expression, leaving her to cook alone in the kitchen, disappearing in the study to let her have the house to herself for a bit. Maybe then she’d cool down.

It was getting late– they’d usually go to sleep around this time. So Rafe got up, shutting his laptop and left to go to their bedroom.

He heard Sofia brush her teeth in the en suite so he went and sat down on the mattress, waiting for her to come to bed.

After a while, she did, entering the room an impassive expression on her face. He tried to smile at her, but she didn’t look his way, instead walking up to the bed and grabbing a blanket, turning back around again.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked getting up from off the bed, his brows stitched on confusion.

She remained calm, face as still as a lake. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” she said plainly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Sofia… you can’t still be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad…I just need some space.”

“I won’t get too close then.”

Sofia shook her head, “night Rafe,” she said softly, before heading out of the room, blanket trailing behind her, leaving him to curse exasperatedly under his breath– leave it to the Pogues to find a way to mess with his relationship too.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

After an hour or so fruitlessly grasping at sleep, Rafe paced the bedroom, biting at his thumb.

“You didn’t do the right thing either.”

Sofia’s words spun around his brain, making him think about all the shit he’d done. The memory of seeing Sarah today had lingered with him surprisingly, their silent gaze across the windswept beach reminding him of the terse look they shared a year and half ago on the tarmac, where he unknowingly sent his father to his death.

“Look it’s Sarah, do you think she’d want to talk?”

Sofia had asked him as she sat beside him earlier on the warm sand, with that sweet, gentle voice of hers. She always seemed to nudge him to do the right thing– the moral thing. And he always seemed to do the opposite. Rafe realised he couldn’t stand to disappoint her.

Quietly exiting the bedroom, he pattered down the stairs, heading to the living room. There she was, nestled into the sofa, the blanket fallen on to the floor. Rafe smiled to himself seeing her look so pretty and serene, noiselessly approaching and draping the blanket over her exposed legs.

He then meandered over to the gaping window, the cerulean night sky silhouetted by the swarthy trees and faint shape of boats lining the dock.

His eyes snagged on to the picture frames he’d packed from Tannyhill, the final memory of the family he once had. In all honesty, he was going to put them in the trash, or at least let them gather dust in some storage unit miles away; Sofia had been the one to convince him to keep them when she was helping him move out of Tannyhill all those many months ago.

“They’re your family Rafe, you can’t just throw them away like that, come on I’ll help you pack them up.”

It hurt to see that picture of him when he was in his early teens, making Sarah what? Ten? Eleven? Because all he could think about was how she looked when he held her under the water– the terror in her eyes, the tremble of her body. She’d turned into a little girl in that moment, so frail and scared..

“It’s Sarah…it’s your sister…please stop.”

She’d begged, clutching at him, clawing at him. The recollection made him nauseous.

His father used to always say “Family is the most important thing” and here he was alone and unmoored, his two baby sisters no longer with him. His heart ached with a sudden and deep grief, as if he’d just realised the extent of what he’d lost.

But he wasn’t completely alone…he still had Sofia. He sometimes thought of her like light– she had this effervescent, incandescent quality to her. The way her eyes would light up like liquid gold, how her hair glinted bronze in the sun, her smile exuding lustre. She’d make him feel lighter too. Rafe mulled over her words again.

She had a point– he didn’t do the right thing. And he was going to fix that by amending his relationship with Sarah, getting Wheezie back from Rose’s clutches, and finally start a family of his own– with the woman he loved. Sofia wouldn’t lead him astray.

Rafe walked over to her slumbering body, crouching down as quiet as he could be, taking a seat next to her. She stirred slightly, but stayed fast asleep, almost subconsciously nearing him in her dream state. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

His thinking drifted back to the morning, when they were getting ready for the beach. She was telling him how maybe Hollis’ deal was legit, about how the patrons of the club were all gunning for it.

Rafe knew how to show her he listened, show her he valued her– he’d take Sofia’s advice seriously. And with Goat Island soon to be his, Rafe could start that new life and finally start that family, all with Sofia by his side.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

[kurogane2512]

you as chief of mbcc sitting in your chair with chameleon on your lap (side ways) head buried in your neck telling you about her worries about those sinners (special conversation 1)

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Chameleon x gn!reader (Chief)

Type: SFW, Fluff

You weren't sure how you ended up in this scenario. As the Chief of MBCC, you had a myriad of duties concerning the Sinners. Looking after the Sinners' psychological and emotional needs was immensely important hence you'd have to make special arrangements for each of them, catered to their conditions. One particular arrangement was the one you were currently in, having none other than Chameleon nestled in your lap.

"Mmm, I always look forward to these sessions, Chief~" Chameleon husked near your ear in her sultry voice, her lips grazing your lobe.

Despite being a highly reputed psychologist herself, Chameleon had her fair share of mental troubles that she couldn't solve by herself. This arrangement began as a simple meeting you decided to have with her 3 months ago to find out how to help her, initially you would simply talk with her about anything she wished but over time she became daring and started asking for more, knowing well you'd go as far as it took to help her. So, here she was sitting on your lap sideways and resting against your body. A passerby would think you both were lovers by the intimate position.

"Chameleon, aren't you a bit too close today....?" you tried to protest but it seems your resistance only made her come closer, her arms wrapping around your neck now.

"Am I? What if I told you I'm craving some extra attention today, hm?~"

You knew it was futile to argue with her, so you accepted your fate with a sigh and kept your arm around her waist to steadily hold her. You couldn't see her face but you could swear she smirked the moment she felt your hand around her, she knew you wouldn't deny her.

"Well, how was your day today, Chief? Anything interesting happened?~"

"Hmm, not really. It was the usual routine today. I suppose the exciting things only happen on missions." you replied with a chuckle, making Chameleon smile too.

"What about you? How do you feel now?"

Chameleon slid her finger down your cheek, tracing your face intricately while pondering.

"You must be knowing the answer to that, Chief. You have your eyes and ears on us all the time~"

"Well, I like listening to you talk about it yourself. I can't know your thoughts by looking through the cameras."

Chameleon hummed and hugged you tighter, burying her face in your neck and relaxing. You weren't sure how to respond to this since she never did this kind of thing before, but you felt it was best to let her be and continue holding her the same way.

"Something has been on my mind all day and I was waiting for our session to finally talk about it. You must be already aware of this fact since you keep track of everyone's day to day life..... Well, at night, many Sinners suffer from terrible nightmares. I'm also one of them but thanks to your efforts, I have been better recently. Still, I'm well aware that everyone's condition is different and they require special treatment."

You furrowed your brows for a moment, trying to understand what she was meaning to say.

"I know.... Sometimes it's even terrifying for me since I can feel it through the shackles. Earlier, I would keep getting up at night cause of the disturbances in the shackles but now I have gradually learned to subdue it from my side. Still, I cannot erase their nightmares completely...."

Chameleon could sense a hint of disappointment and regret in your tone, a feeling of guilt you had over not being able to help the Sinners properly. This gave her assurance that she was right to bring this up with you.

"We share the same sentiment then, Chief. I had a.... proposal for this. Would you mind letting me talk with them individually and privately? Perhaps I can delve into the root cause of their nightmares and suggest better treatments that the resident psychologist cannot."

You weren't completely surprised hearing this, you had somehow anticipated it. Perhaps you had finally started to understand her on a deeper level.

"That is.... very kind of you, Chameleon, truly. But, don't mind me asking this, why do you want to do this?"

Chameleon softly chuckled, "Why, I'm still a clinical psychologist, Chief. Are you surprised to hear that I perhaps care for these Sinners? Or do you doubt my intents and feel I'm planning something sinister, hm?~"

"....Neither of that. I'm just a little surprised to hear you make this first step, that's all. I asked for your reasoning only because I don't want you to burden yourself and think that perhaps it's your responsibility as a psychologist to help them. Irrespective of your own condition, you don't have to feel obligated to do something like this. But if you truly wish to out of goodwill then I will support you."

Chameleon couldn't help but genuinely smile at your words then leaned forward to kiss your cheek.

"My, the way you become so chivalrous is quite endearing, Chief~"

You blushed for a moment then cleared your throat, "A-Ahem, however, I have some conditions for this. I trust you but I still need to follow some protocols and exercise general cautions. You can meet them by yourself but I need to be in close proximity, I'd prefer to do it in the interrogation room if it's okay otherwise I will think of another way."

Chameleon nodded with a grin, "As you say, Chief. I trust you to make the right call~"

You smiled in acceptance then suddenly felt her come closer and hold you tightly, so much so that she was breathing in your scent and you could feel her breath tickle your skin.

"Thank you, Chief."

They were simple words but they meant a lot to both of you.

"It's nothing, I'm just doing my job...."

Chameleon chuckled as she pulled back and cupped your face, her eyes flickering to your lips.

"Hehe, always so humble and adorable.... Oh, Chief, some day you are going to awaken the desires buried deep in my heart. If that happens, I wonder if you'd be able to bear them, hehe~"

Your lips curled up in a smirk, "Don't underestimate me, Chameleon...." You suddenly pulled her closer by her waist, making your lips almost touch hers.

"You should be the one ready to tame the beast if you awaken it~"

Chameleon's eyes flared up in excitement and she didn't waste another second to press her lips to yours. Your lips moved with hers in a passionate manner, ravaging each other like animals in heat. Her body fully leaned into you now, her hands possessively holding your face and tilting it as she pleased to kiss you deeper and harder.

"Ah, only you could turn my nightmares into dreams, my toy~"

[sagareads]

Heavily seconded, and I'd like to add some specifics and additional recommendations pulled from my book design coursework:

At a typical hardcover / trade paperback trim size (so, not mass market), margins should be more than 1 inch in all directions -- preferably significantly more. Tighter margins will make your book look denser and harder to read. A 1-inch margin might be appropriate for an academic monograph, but you're going to want your novel to be much more approachable.

Your inner margins (towards the spine) should actually be larger than your outer margins (the edge of the page), because some of that inner margin will be eaten by the gutter (where the book folds in towards the spine).

Use an adequate font size. Please. Don't go with the smallest font you personally find comfortable (much less the smallest font you can read). Assume some of your readers may have worse vision than you do, or might be reading in low lighting, or otherwise just won't be as motivated to focus on small text as you, the author, are. Err on the size of making your text larger -- and therefore more readable -- rather than smaller. A reader who thinks your text is too large might be a little annoyed, but one who finds your text too small just straight-up won't buy/read your book.

More obscure tip: line length matters. Lines of text with too many or too few words are harder to read. The maximum recommended line length for narrative text is 75 words; a line length in the 60's is better.

If you're going to format / composite your own files for print, I strongly recommend investing $20 in a copy of The Design of Books by Debbie Berne. It's a quick, easy read with a ton of good information, especially about the interior design of books. You can buy the print version here at Bookshop.org or find the print or ebook here at the University of Chicago Press.

I've had multiple people outside publishing go "What do you mean, books have interior design? Isn't it just text?" And I can understand why, because for text-driven books -- especially fiction -- a good interior design often becomes invisible. The reading experience is pleasant enough that readers can focus on the text, without even noticing the design choices involved. A bad interior design, on the other hand, is very noticeable; it distracts readers from the text and may turn them off it completely.

If you're publishing fiction, you don't need to put much effort into getting creative with interior design -- the simpler the better, really. But you should understand the principles and conventions that make for comfortable reading. Self-published or indie authors already face many barriers to finding readers; poorly designed interiors don't have to join that list.

Please, if you are a self-publishing author an indie author, learn the basics of book formatting.

Please.

The standards are in place for a reason. Margins are the size they are so that your thumb can rest comfortably on the sides of the book without blocking any text, and so you can read the text along the middle without tilting the book back and forth to see around the bend. Bleeds are so your margins don't get cut down too much when the text block is trimmed, you need them even if you don't have images in your book. Spaces between paragraphs are an internet convention and do not belong in books unless you are indicating a scene break.

Please. These rules aren't there to be mean. They are there for FUNCTIONALITY.

[lucy90712]

Can you please make a hector fort fic where he spends all his time with his friends and spends barely time with her. Then they were supposed to go on a date together and she waits for him to pick her up, she waits for 2 hours and goes to social media to see if he has posted anything and sees on his story a picture of him and her girl bestfriend having fun playing games. So she leaves the house with her stuff. When hector comes home he realises what he has done and tries to get back in contact with her but he fails. They don't see each other for a while but he notices her walking on a busy street and tries to talk to her. (ending with fluff please)

You: good morning amor hope training goes well don't forget about our plans tonight I'll be waiting for you 

Hector: have fun in class and don't worry I'll be there at 7 as promised 

You: love you 

That was the last I heard from Hector and now it's 8:32pm and he's still not here to pick me up. He promised he promised me he'd be here and that he'd make up for us not spending any time together. I should've seen it coming as he's been doing this for weeks he's promised time and time again that he will come over or we'll go on a date and then he never shows up. When I can finally get hold of him he always has an excuse either he was busy or with friends and lost track of time but whatever it is it hurts. I've done so much for Hector I've been there for him since we were kids and I've been there for every good and bad moment of his football career but he can't even manage to show up for one day or just to see me for an hour. 

We made the jump from being friends to being a couple just over a year ago and for the longest time he was the best boyfriend ever he treated me so well was super attentive and really made an effort to be romantic and take me on dates. I don't remember exactly when it changed I think it happened slowly over time but ever since he's started playing with the first team more he's been busier with training and matches which I understand but what I don't understand is spending every evening with his teammates who he sees all day when he could see me. It might sound selfish but I just miss my boyfriend he's already missed so much like he wasn't here when I was stressed over my big exams and he wasn't here when I got the results and he wasn't here when I needed him most when my mum went into hospital and I was scared and panicking. Just a few months ago he'd never dream of leaving my side during any of those times but now he barely knows they even happened. 

I text him once then twice then three times then I called multiple times but they all went unanswered. My last resort was to message him on Instagram as I know he won't have turned the notifications off for that but I didn't need to message him Instagram gave me my answer straight away. He had posted on his story showing him out with his friends and my best friend was with them too which was a whole other level of pain. My best friend knows all about my troubles with Hector yet she went out with him and his friends anyway and didn't even bother to tell me. That was the final straw I'm not dealing with this anymore I deserve better I deserve someone who will be there for me, not break promises and definitely not someone who makes me feel like this. 

My mind was racing but I quickly worked out what I wanted to do so I grabbed my keys and got in my car. Seeing as Hector wasn't in I decided now is the perfect time to go and get all the things I have at his place and leave the spare key I have that he gave me ages ago because I won't be needing it anymore. When I opened the door I immediately saw all the little things of mine there are that makes Hector's place feel just like my own some of my books are on his coffee table and my hair ties on the sideboard by the door. I spent some time grabbing all my things while trying not to cry that I was losing my boyfriend who I thought was the love of my life. Before I left I found a piece of paper and a pen and wrote Hector a note to tell him his I felt and why I was leaving and then put my key with it. Closing the door I felt like I was closing a chapter in my life a chapter I never wanted to close and one that's going to stay with me for a long time but it has to be done. 

Hector's POV

As soon as I opened the door to my apartment it felt weirdly empty like was something wrong but the door was locked and nothing looked like it has been stolen. Still I had a quick look around and then I noticed a piece of paper on the kitchen counter. Next to it was a key and that's when I realised what was wrong all of y/n's things were gone her books, her hair ties and all of the little things she leaves here were gone and this is her key that's now in my hand not with her like it should be. I knew the note would be from her but I didn't need to read it to know what was going on and what I'd done. I had promised to see her tonight as I've forgotten about the last few dates we've planned but I did it again my friends dragged me out after training and then I got carried away and forgot about the most important part of my day proving to y/n that I will do better. I really didn't want to read the note but I knew I had to I owe her that at the very least.

Dear Hector, 

I have left my key and taken my things because I'm done. I'm done because tonight we were supposed to go out you promised you'd pick me up at 7 and you promised you wouldn't forget like you have been for the last few months but you did. Instead of trying to prove to me that you love me and that the last few months have just been an anomaly you went out with your friends and my best friend leaving me waiting for you, calling and texting you until I saw your story. I can't do this anymore I love you but I can't let you treat me like this so I'm calling it here. I've really enjoyed the last year or so we've spent together but it's time for us to move on as clearly we aren't meant to be. 

I love you and probably will for the rest of my life but this is goodbye. 

Y/n xx

Those words hurt to read. I already knew I fucked up but to see the words written in front of me made it truly hit me how much I'd hurt her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me she was always there for everything no matter what she's been by my side through every up and down and I truly thought she'd be there for everything for the rest of our lives. I wanted her there for every achievement in my career and I wanted to be there for all of her achievements too. She was the one I didn't need anyone else I didn't want anyone else but now she's left me and I don't have my person anymore and I may never have her again. 

After the initial shock I tried to text her to see if I could apologise but she had already blocked me so I tried Instagram but she had blocked me on there too. I should've seen it coming but it upset me that I wouldn't be able to reach out to her and try and make things right or at least tell her how sorry I am for fucking this all up so badly. She's gone and it's all my fault that's what hurts the most if I hadn't been such an idiot then we'd still be together but no I had to go and ruin things with the best woman in the world. 

A few weeks later

Life has been hell for the last few weeks I've really missed y/n I've missed having her sat in the stands during matches and I've definitely missed seeing her. She's been in my life for the longest time not just as my girlfriend but as my friend so not having her in my life anymore and so suddenly as well has been really hard. I've definitely not been myself all of the guys keep asking if I'm ok and I tell them I am but we all know it's a lie they know how much I love y/n and they can see how it's destroyed me to lose her. I've tried time and time again to reach out to her but of course I'm still blocked I even text her best friend to get her to talk to y/n but she says she hasn't seen her or had any of her texts answered either so I have no way of telling her that I'm sorry. 

Everyone keeps telling me I need to try and move on and they're right it's just hard everything reminds me of y/n whenever I go anywhere I see places that we've been on dates to or just places we have memories at. Today I'm going to stop myself from moping about and go for a walk to clear my head as that's what I think I need to be able to move on or at least start to. I decided to go to the nearest park and walk around as it's relaxing and it should be quiet there which is what I need. 

The park was pretty empty there was a few people around; one couple with their baby an older couple feeding the birds and a girl who was sat on a bench with a book. The girl reminded me of y/n her hair was the same colour and reading in the park is something she loved to do. As I walked closer I realised that it actually was y/n she had headphones in and the book she'd been reading in her hands like she so often did when I went to see her. Seeing her made me stop in my tracks I didn't know whether to go and talk to her or just leave her be but then I realised this is my chance to talk to her and get closure at the very least. 

Your POV

Being without Hector has been hard I've missed feeling his touch and having him next to me when I sleep. So many times I've wanted to take it all back and run back to him but I know I can't or he'll think he can treat me like that again or someone else and I can't let that happen. Today is Wednesday which is the day that I had free from classes and usually I would spend all day with Hector so I've been sat at home all day thinking about him but I can't keep doing that so I needed to get outside. To give me something to do I walked to the park with my book. I found a bench with a nice view of the trees and the little pond with a few ducks and let myself forget about the real world. 

I was so in my own world that I didn't notice when someone sat next to me to start with until they sighed which brought me out of my trance. When I looked to my side I think I turned as white as a ghost because Hector was sat next to me with a look of pure sadness on his face. It took a few seconds for my brain to begin functioning again but when it did I leapt up and tried to run away. I'm not ready to face him again not when I've been trying so hard to forget about him and move on I blocked him and separated myself from him so I wouldn't have to do this. Before I could get more than a few steps away Hector placed a hand on my arm he didn't pull me back he didn't even hold my arm tightly but having his hand on me stopped me dead in my tracks. He encouraged me to sit back down so I did and I watched as his hand moved off my arm down to my hand which he held tightly in his grasp so I couldn't run again. 

"Hector" I started to say 

"No please let me talk" he interrupted 

"Ok but you have five minutes then I'm leaving" I said

"I'm sorry and I know move said that a lot recently but I really mean it when I got home and saw the note you left it broke me having all of your stuff gone from my apartment made it feel empty and not being able to see or talk to you has killed me I've missed you so much and I'll do anything to make it up to you" he said 

"How do I know that you actually mean it and that you'll actually change I told you how disappointed I was a million times and every time you told me you wouldn't forget the next time and then you always did it's like I wasn't important to you anymore how do I know that'll change" I said 

"I know I was an awful boyfriend but losing you has taught me a lot I know I can't treat you like that and I'd never dream of doing it again this might seem to much but you are truly the one for me I don't want to ever be with anyone else so please give me a another chance and I promise I'll do better and if I don't I'll let you go" he said 

"Ok but this is your last chance if you miss any date or anything without telling me and giving me a valid reason we're done" I said 

"I'll never miss a date ever again don't worry" he said 

"I can't lie I'm glad to have you back I've missed you so much it really hurt to walk away" I said

"And you'll never have to walk away again I'm here to stay" he said 

He pulled me into his side and leant down to kiss my lips which felt so good as I've missed having him by my side and I've definitely missed kissing him. He let me sit and finish the chapter I was reading before we left the park and went back to his place as he wanted to make things up to me straight away by having a movie date at home which he knows are my favourite. He's definitely off to a good start at making things up to me but honestly I'm just happy to have him back by my side. 

[hannahssimblr]

The U-Bahn rumbles along as Jonas and I sit, our back to the window as tile wall rushes by, station to station. The light flickers. His arms are crossed, and he’s bundled in his big, winter coat, ears poking out under his short fisherman hat, laced up boots crossed at the ankles. 

“It’s funny to me how you keep bothering Leon so much whenever we see him.” He says. He always sounds so conversational, so curious when he’s saying things that call me out on my behaviour.

“Funny funny or annoying funny?”

“I can’t decide. I just think he would have liked to pay for all our meals tonight. To me, it seemed nice.”

I scoff. “It was a power move, Jonas. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”

“Well, sorry,” as he shrugs, the waterproof material of his jacket rasps. “I don’t think I can. It’s pretty common for someone to want to pay for the entire table, especially if the meal was their idea. He wanted to do it for Elias’ birthday.”

“He does too much. He’s always swinging his wallet around.”

“I think maybe it’s because he can afford to swing it.”

The train halts at a station, and a handful of people clamber on, filtering into the space in front of us. 

“It’s not abnormal for me to want to pay for myself and my girlfriend. He should have let me do it without making that face. You know what I’m saying, right?”

“When a restaurant charges forty five euro for a bowl of pasta and we order three bottles of wine worth one hundred each, I will be very happy to allow for my meal to be paid for.”

“So, what’s a couple hundred quid, anyway? It was to make a point.”

He pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not sure I understand the point.”

“Leon can’t just pay for my shit, okay? I don’t need him to. I can afford it myself.”

“I can see it’s a point of pride for you.”

“It’s not like that, it’s-” I break off. “If he pays for me, he’ll find some way to hold it over my head later. I know him.”

“I would argue you don’t know him very well at all. In fact, you barely speak, if only to have some kind of verbal sparring with one another.”

“Well, I’ve known people like him, okay? And that’s what they do. They use money to control people, and that’s what he’s doing by being all flashy with his credit card and his big, fancy restaurant.”

“I imagine the restaurant was to impress his boyfriend on his birthday, and not to make you feel insecure.”

“Well, even if it was, it wouldn’t have made me insecure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Jonas, I feel like you’re on his side.”

“I’m simply being an observer.”

“You don’t even like him. You’ve said it straight out.”

He sighs, adjusting his hat with one hand. “He’s not my favourite person, but I make an effort because he’s important to my friend. I choose the path of least resistance.”

“Well, I choose the other path.”

“Most resistance.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Someone has to.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Whatever. I don’t care. I’ve already zoned out, staring out the window at the tiles as they zip past the window.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[dearru]

add up my love - s.hinata

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synopsis: after pining after you for what feels like a lifetime, hinata shoyo finally gets to experience the bliss that is waking up next to you.

pairing: ts!hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: kinda suggestive (waking up next to each other), slight manga spoilers | genre: fluff | wc: 946

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Shoyo can’t believe his luck. Rolling over in bed, he’s greeted by the sweet— and slightly humorous— image of your sleeping figure. You look so peaceful like this, with your hair strewn across his threadbare pillowcase. The figure of the pillow you’re currently resting on is misshapen and wrinkled from the lack of care it’s received during his time abroad.

Last night, he had been embarrassed when you walked in and saw the disarray of his place. When he had imagined taking the person he’s been in love with since high school home, it hadn’t been to a bare and dusty room, but everything happened so fast last night, and he didn’t exactly have time to clean the place up for you. You hadn’t seemed to mind, though.

That was one of the things he liked most about you. How understanding and patient you always were.

Reminiscing on the past evening has his chest swelling with affection and excitement. He’s not sure he can contain his happiness for much longer.

“Are you up yet?” He whispers, trying his best to keep his voice level. In spite of his efforts, his voice penetrates the quiet hum that surrounds his room in a rather abrupt manner.

“Hm?” You murmur sleepily, which makes the spiker’s heartbeat speed up. The sound thrums in his ears, causing his face to heat up.

“I, um-“ He starts, nervous, “ Just asked if you’re up.”

You shift slightly, signaling that you’re still fighting sleepiness. Peeking out of one eye, you shoot Shoyo a soft smile before stretching your limbs slightly. The subtle action quickens his heartbeat, and a wide, unconscious smile spreads across his face. He can’t believe that he gets to experience you like this. A warm tenderness spreads through his body as he admires you further. You’re cute when you’re sleeping, and you’re even cuter when you’ve just woken up.

He may die from happiness.

“What’re you smiling at?” You hum, moving to rest your head on his chest. Shoyo’s sure you can hear the loud boom of his heart, but he’s decided he doesn’t care. All his cards are on the table now; he might as well play them. Blushing, he pulls you closer to him, doing his best to contain how elated he is at this moment.

You nuzzle your face into his chest, and he decides he’s definitely going to die.

Clearing his throat, he smiles down at you, his grin growing impossibly wider. He decides to take a chance when he picks up a piece of your hair and begins to play with it. The feeling of the lock between his fingers has him reveling in the intimacy of the moment. He thinks back to his time in Brazil when he opened up to Heitor about you. His beach volleyball partner had found it amusing— how hopelessly head over heels Shoyo was for you. He’ll have to text him as soon as he gets the chance.

“I asked what you’re smiling about.” You interrupt, poking his cheek playfully, eyes bright with mirth.

Shoyo considers his answer, trying to remember the tips Heitor had given him about how to speak to someone you’re interested in. Mind wandering, his eyes shift to the side of the room. He examines the shabby curtains and takes note of the morning light slipping through them. Maybe he’ll tell you he’s happy you’re here, or he’ll compliment you on how pretty you are. Did you like things like that? He hopes you do.

Before he can decide on an answer, his stomach grumbles loudly.

He freezes, slightly mortified, as the noise echoes through the room. He’s pretty sure Heitor never mentioned that loud stomach noises were a way to make himself more attractive to people.

“Hungry?” You laugh.

Breathing a sigh of relief at your amusement, he chuckles sheepishly, “I guess so.”

You sit up in bed, removing yourself from his grasp, and it’s all Shoyo can do to stop himself from pulling you back in again. Now that he’s experienced your warmth, he never wants to let go.

“You have food here? I can make us something,” You suggest, pushing a loose strand of hair back, bringing more attention to your face. Your position perfectly aligns with the sliver of sun that his curtains have allowed in. The ray of light shines down on you like you’re something out of a dream, which Shoyo figures isn’t half untrue.

Sitting up on his elbows, he shivers from the feeling of the covers slipping off and the cold air hitting his chest. While jarring, it’s a welcome feeling. It reminds him that he’s here and that he’s alive.

“I don’t think there’s much here,” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck, “I think I have, like, some chicken and protein shakes?” Cringing at the statement, he decides he’ll need to stop by the grocery store later today. He needs to be more prepared, especially if you’re going to be coming over more often.

Again, you laugh, looking down at him in adoration.

“I promise I usually have more. Back in Brazil, I-“ He tries to explain but is cut off by the feeling of your lips pressing against his. His breath catches, and electricity shoots through him. The scent of your shampoo is hypnotic. Eagerly, he tries to deepen the kiss, but you pull back before he can.

Staring at you in awe, he pouts at the sudden loss of feeling. You giggle and lay down on him again, “Let’s just stay here then. I like doing this.”

His heart swells once more, and he glances downward at you, smiling, “I like doing this too.”

[otamotone-dnp]

thoughts on the atlanta tit show/the show in general!!!

okay to start off, they’re so beautiful. oh my god. when they came out on stage for the pre show I was looking down at my phone not expecting it and their presence scared the shit out of me akskssk I jumped. phil’s eyes are so beautiful and piercing (in a good way lmao) and there was a part where he says a line by himself into a mic that was on my side of the stage and I was five rows back and I could just see his eyes so clearly. dan looked so happy and smiley and beautiful too. they look so good together!!!!

I thought the show was so well done, you could tell they thought it all through thoroughly, I can’t imagine how much planning it took. my friend who came with me has a degree in theatre and specializes in set and lighting design and she was saying how cool and well done the set was (she was giving me some info on how the screens work but I didn’t understand but it sounded kind of complicated lol)

okay now spoilers ahead:

the dolls part, oh my god. first of all, the little cardboard sets are so cute and accurate. they must have taken pj and Sophie so long to make. the “humping/fucking” part where phil makes the dolls fuck and 69 almost made me look away in like idk I felt bad almost watching that? lmao not fr but I was like Jesus dan and phil y’all are crazy and also we’re going there

I thought they did the conspiracy theories part in a classy way. we got tour bus, Vegas, and toilets. I liked the ice berg concept, it made me wonder if they’ve seen that “phandom iceberg” video somebody made on YouTube even though I don’t agree with that person’s approach to the fandom.

I thought the boxing was so well done, omg. it was so fun to watch. the clips of them before the boxing like the “hype” clips or whatever you call it were so good

seeing sister daniel on stage was iconic!! my friend leaned over to me when she came out and said “do you think he’s wearing underwear or something under there” aksksks I was like yeah, they’re just short. she doesn’t use tumblr much but I explained stuff from on here like how we got a glimpse of a little too much one time and he made them longer after that 😂 I also loved phil’s monologue while dan was changing

the song was great!! the audio cut out a few times but they’re so professional and played it off well. the dancing omfg iconic. dan was cracking me up, he gets so into it and they both did so great

there was one part where phil was forgetting a line, he kept saying “dan” where like he was meant to say it once and then say a line and he said it like three times and dan was like “yes phil” and walked closer to him, i could tell he was going to feed him the line but then phil remembered <3

during the part where they shoot the money guns at us, dan was over by my side of the stage, and the gun had like 5 bills in it and that was it ajsjsjs but he thought it was just jammed so he was like slapping it trying to get it to work and it sprung open and there was nothing in it lolol

also Dan’s pants kept like sagging down but I could tell it wasn’t intentional and he kept like trying to inconspicuously pull them up but I saw the top of his underwear at some point lol somebody help him out and get him a pair that fit better 😭

they’re so talented!!! so funny, so sweet, so beautiful. it was amazing and I’m so happy I got to go. I wish I got meet and greet but honestly it felt like a privilege to just be in the same room and be able to see them from the audience!

I have more thoughts on the parasocial/fan conceptualization of the show but it might take me a while to fully form those. I thought it struck a good delicate balance between acknowledging the damage the intense effort to out them did to them (especially dan) while also acknowledging what their fandom has done for them and how they appreciate us. also it definitely strikes a fucking delicate balance between “hard launching” and not lmao. I do think they will do that after tour, it just feels like this is what it’s leading to.

oh and I didn’t buy any merch bc I’m trying to save for Christmas and I might go on a trip in January but I loved the photocards we got in the silver VIP bag, they’re such a cute idea and I will treasure them