#but i just wanted you all to know. that i have all those clips saved in my library. <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[smollsmule]

Ok my queue spit this out after I saved it for later, so let me add some nuance here. Because this is a very importand issue, actually.

Of course nobody is prohibited from readin the books they enjoy. Hell, I like me some easily digestible fluff too! Some of my favourite book series are ya (and genuinely great books despite being “easy to read”).

There is something to be said however about limiting yourself to only engaging with that level of difficulty in reading. And before you come at me, I know that many people don't read at all and to many others reading is simply a hobby to unwind after a long day, where they just wanna turn their brain off and have some fun. Which is a totally fair reason to read. BUT. Reading (or more broadly, literacy) will never be just that. You live in an age of (mis)information and you WILL be confronted with texts (speeches, video clips, what have you) that are hard to dissect. Especially the ones that don't seem like it at first glance.

Media literacy is not only about how quickly you can summarise a paragraph or being able to pull quotes to show how maybe a character could be read as queer (although both of those things are a very good indicator of having advanced literacy). It's the VITAL skill of filtering and assesing information presented to you before so you can make an informed choice to internalise or discard it. It's being able to understand the information in the first place by grasping a complex thought presented to you in writing or in a speech because the simple truth is that not all truths are simple.

Media literacy gives you the ability of identifying that someone is trying to make you believe something and parsing why they're doing it by identifying the tools they are using. Which means you also need to know the tools they have at their disposal. It also means being able to connect points brought up before in the same or different texts to see if there is inconstencies or leaps in logic or if the argument someone is making only looks good because they use big words and a sentence structure that “feels” smart, but actually falls apart as soon as you poke at it a little.

Forgive me sounding alarmist, but if you can't read at that level people who have these tools WILL have power over you and you won't even have the tools to notice that they do. Even if people are not actively trying to harm or manipulate you, if you're unable to engage with their ideas you will get left behind in certain vital discussions and that not only feels like shit because everybody gets it but you, but it also again makes you incredibly vulnerable to those who do have bad intentions!

Now does that mean you only get to read Proust from now on? Of course not! I still do believe that a piece of literature can directly and fundamentally change your life. I know it has for me. However, that is a personal opinion and it doesn't mean I can force anyone to engage with deep philosophical manifestos on what it isto be human in this world. And even less that I want to do that, despite me thinking that literally ANYONE could benefit from reading that kind of thing. But you NEED to be able to read complex texts outside of your comfort zone for honest to god survival. I am so fucking serious.

And, hey! The good news is that this is not some secret mystical power you either get blessed with or not. It is a skill you can train, by reading challenging material. Books with more complex sentence structures, more nuanced ideas or arguments. Books that force you to think about them. I hate to say it but the only way to get better at reading is to read. It doesn't have to be fiction but i will be very real with you, I doubt that - if you're putting down a book because it's unreadable to you based on the chosen perspective - you'll be the type to pick up scientific essays or anything like that.

Don't cut yourself off from vital skills by locking your mind in a box. You are capable to handle those more complex texts, and I'd wager you'll even enjoy it once you find your niche (yes! you still get to have preferences!). You just need to give yourself a chance to learn.

[ghostfacd]

IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him

AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!

tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?

tagged @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously

user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god

user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways

user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better

➥ user4 well someone had to say it..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.

It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.

The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.

Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.

You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.

Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters

view all comments

user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her

user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS

user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹

tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth

rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊

user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol

➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”

➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8

tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

view all comments

user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single

user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??

user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵

ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts

user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg

ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!

view all comments

tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too

➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED

user14 literal unbothered icon i love her

user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”

iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY

lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻

➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate

user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot

tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso

tagged @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth

user18 ok who’s cutting onions

user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS

➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐

user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys

user22 parentssss

rachelzegler my favorites

ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS

view all comments

tomblyth yn, i love you but

➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence

user24 the second pic thank u yn

joshandresrivera on top of u maybe

➥ user25 IM DYING OML

user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[rxmxa]

uranus through the houses + the future <3

I saw this video the other day of this girl (colette bernard) who became a millionaire selling claw clips designed to look like teeth (her audience was dentists) but then she expanded when they were a hit so she has like cute claw clips designs for a dozen of professions. BUT all i remember thinking that stuff like this is so pluto in aquarius coded and we’re going to keep seeing people become successful more and more through their specific interests and hobbies.

she was truly self made and her passion for art changed her ENTIRE life (even though people told her it was a dumb idea). Pluto is gonna be in Aquarius for a long ass time and we know the significance it has on social changes, the collective, the government, community etc etc. This is a time for innovation and transformation, and with Uranus’s energy on your side, you can truly step into a future where you lead the charge in creating something new and lasting ⚡️

the point is your weirdness, your out of the box ideas, the shit you think is straight up weird or maybe mee maw and pee paw call “useless” IS GONNA COME IN FUCKING HANDY!!! people are changing their entire lives everyday online and/or by finding their niche. so whatever “weird” idea or hobby you have, keep investing in it !! im not saying bc it will bring u money instantly (although thats always a plus) but bc it will bring you OPPORTUNITIES.

we all have our own claw clip tooth idea and we can look at uranus to show us the forward thinking/ innovative energy that can help us during pluto in Aquarius :) 💙🦋✨✨🪩✨✨💙💙

uranus in the 1st house: moving forward by embracing your quirks and letting the world see the real you. dont ever ever ever try to dull yourself down. the right people will find you. dont shy away from shaking things up with how you present yourself or how you lead others. the visionary is YOU and during pluto in aqua you can inspire others to embrace their authenticity the way you do. in a way YOU are the “unique idea” so take full ownership. Dont be afraid to experiment with your style and image, especially in the moments where you are feeling the urge to try something different! Step into leadership roles that call to you! Volunteer for projects that require someone open-minded or that align with innovative (like new companies, organizations or small owned businesses that are producing/ delivering new kinds of products or services).

uranus in the 2nd house: think of unique ways to invest your money (ik theres a lot of debate with crypto) but anything thats outside the box could be a worthy venture. think about you can use tech to help you streamline your finances or organize your budget! just be open to trying new financial systems. this placement gives me the energy of investing something that others might see as SUPER random or specific but then it takes off years later. this is not me telling u to put ur savings in electric scooter stocks or something but to just be OPEN to sustainable investments that catch your attention that can help u and even ur community!! this also reminds me of tech inventors or investing in tech or USING technology as a way to help you determine the kinds of values you want to have and/or what you actually wanna stand up for.

uranus in the 3rd house: moving forward by shaking up how you show up in your online communities, or your social media presence. have you ever been interested in starting a podcasts or blogging more? (like those conversations you have with your friends about your interests or hobbies can go far or even commentary on the way media looks like and is being used now. Invest in learning new methods of communication you have been interested in (like buying that new camera or learning how to code or finally starting that youtube channel). Use your platform to reach more people!! This also reminds me of someone who disrupts the status quo with innovation in education like maybe writing new curriculum thats more aligned to our modern generation or any other platforms/ media that are up and coming and useful to students??

uranus in the 4th house: focusing on moving forward with your ideal home environment in mind. visualize it and focus on the ways you can start putting in into action! dont be afraid to start over and re-design! think about the ways you want your environment to be emotionally and physically stable for you and what its gonna look like (eco-living? smart homes? communal living?) this placement reminds me of those people that buy mansions or plots of lands with a group of friends and put their money together to help grow and live together! Don't beat yourself up if your idea of home or family doesnt fit the cookie cutter image (which is honestly going away now slowly and will def shift with pluto in aqua). YOU get to decide what home and family is and you can inspire others to do the same. Your idea of family has to align with your desire for freedom and emotional growth.

uranus in the 5th house: going all out in the ways you experiment with your art and creativity. You could be great at creating "futuristic" type of art haha (or investing in art forms that arent super popular or well known rn but you're ahead of the game and they could be popular in the future). Be bold in all areas that have to do with the 5h (think outside the box with how you express yourself artistically and romantically). Pluto in aqua will support you in u turning your creative work and forms of self expression into something that inspires people and gauges strong emotions from them! that claw clip idea was def giving uranus in the 5h energy. She was HAPPY creating it, it was a hobby first (5h) and then people told her it was useless or strange and she kept going anyway and she got to profit it from it, especially through social media (the 5h-11h axis). trust me when I say there is something out there for everybody. EVERYBODY.

uranus in the 6th house: pluto in aqua will urge you to break free from outdated systems and explore new ways to stay productive and healthy!! The traditional 9-5 might not appeal to you and thats okay because it doesnt to a lot of people and they have created their own way. Think about the tech-driven approaches you want to explore in your daily life (apps, the media you use, how you use tech in regards to your health). Think about how tech can help your productivity and your health!! This reminds me of my coworker who bought like this ultraface ring (I think thats what its called) but she loves it and its super high tech and fancy and shit and it monitors a lot of her health and its motivated her in her routines! The way we motivate ourselves looks different! You can move forward by exploring the most flexible options for you.

uranus in the 7th house: you can move forward by redefining what partnership + relationships actually mean to you. now more than ever its time to focus on partnerships where there is a sense of independence and equality. ESPECIALLY bc pluto in aqua is going to redefine and TRANSFORM (pluto) what community and friendships and relationships (aqua) look like in the first place. so be ahead of the game by surrounding yourself and nuturing your relationships with people that are not scared to break away from the norm and actually want to work together and are built to support mutual growth and freedom. dont stress trying to confine yourself to keep someone who is not open minded enough for you! find your person/ people.

part 2 coming soon!! 🪩✨🦋

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

→ premise: marc could get possessive, very possessive infact and when that happens he cant seem to hold back.

→ pairing: marc sceptor x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, face sitting, thigh biting, oral [f receiving], nicknames [mine, my girl, sweetheart], possessiveness,

→ a/n: kinktober 06

Marc tended to be a little hotheaded and possessive when it came to matters involving you. It was normally Steven taking the brunt of it, though it made no real sense for him to get jealous. Though in instances that didn’t involve Steven, you were normally able to pull him aside and calm him down.

this was not currently one of those times, the two of you were attending a work party at your office. A coworker of yours had practically pulled you from Marc's arms to go talk. Though his version of talking was him flirting relentlessly and trying his hardest to get you to leave the party with him.

By the time Marc found you again, he was seething in anger at the man. As he walks up he starts noticing your coworker was flirting with you and trying to touch you. Marc had been tired and ready to go home so he let his possessive nature take over, though he knew once it did it was hard to shut off.

“Yeah, hey bud she's with me and we're leaving now” he nearly growls out at the man as his hand snakes its way around your waist when he walks up next to you. His sudden and fuming presence beside you makes you jump slightly though you were grateful for the save.

With a small scoff and not so cleverly hidden eye roll, your sleazy coworker stomps off. You barely have time to question the latter half of Marc’s statement about leaving before he rushes you towards the exit.

The ride home is silent besides the soft hum of the car and the sounds of the night flooding the air through your open window. Marc tight knuckled the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as his gaze was fixed to the road ahead. You’d normally be worried or scared in a moment like this with someone else, but with Marc you knew he wasn't mad at you. He was protective as well as possessive and so he was more pissed off at your scumbag coworker who didn't seem to grasp the concept that you were taken. You were sat clenching your thighs, he looked so good in that damn button up shirt you made him wear to the party that you were ready to stay home, so you were more than happy to be headed back.

In the blink of an eye you’ve made it back home and Marc is quick to jump out of the car and rip open the passenger car door, pulling you out of the seat and throwing you over his shoulder. “Guess I’ve just gotta mark you up sweetheart, that way you go into work tomorrow and all those men you work with know you’re my girl” he explains as he walks towards the house, holding you up on his shoulder with one hand on your waist and the other across your thighs right under your ass. You loved when he marked you, proudly showing them off when you could, though you could never show them off at work sadly, and he knew that.

“Marc I could’ve just walked inside on my own- hey!” He cuts off your protest with a short but solid smack to your ass.

You let out a huff and try to ignore the ache settling deep in your core at the action, your pussy already aching for his touch. You’ve never told him although he already knew that you secretly liked it a lot when he’d get like this. It made you feel wanted, even if Marc had no problem telling you and showing you in a million and one other ways just how much he wanted and loved you.

You let out a squeal when Marc drops you on your back onto your shared bed, you bounce slightly catching yourself by leaning back onto your elbows. Marc stands at the foot of the bed, eyes already full of lust and lidded as they raked over your body. “Strip sweetheart, you’re gonna sit on my face” he commands, his voice oozing with impatience.

You move fast to peel your clothes off along with your soaked panties, quickly un-clipping your bra and letting It fall off your shoulders, discarding it all on your bedroom floor. He's on you within the blink of an eye, maneuvering your bodies so he is laid out on his back, your thighs either side of his head and your pussy hovering over his face.

“My girl, all fucking mine nobody else’s” he growls and grabs ahold of your leg, opening his mouth and biting the inner plush of your thigh. You let out a gasp in both surprise and slight pain, squirming in his grip. He switches over to your other thigh when he is satisfied with the mark his teeth leave behind. He hums against your thigh as he bites down, rubbing softly at your leg to try and soothe you. The pain morphs into pleasure the more you get used to it, the indents of his teeth in your thigh makes your core tighten.

While you're lost in your own train of thought, Marc’s mouth lets go of your thigh with a small pop. He licks over the mark of his bite, a smirk growing on his face, he knew they wouldn't show as you couldn't wear short skirts to your office but he has never been more graceful for an HR rule than that one. Being pleased with his marks he now focuses all his attention on your leaking cunt above his mouth. With his grip on your legs he pulls your body down onto his face, licking a strip through your folds, drinking up your slick.

You moan out in response as your hips involuntarily grind against his mouth. “Mhm! Fuck Marc.. baby~” you whine out as his nose nudges your clit when his tounge licks and pushes through your folds. Vibrations float through your body as he tries to mumble out something against your pussy. Threading your fingers through his messy hair you use that leverage to pull his face away from you. “What was that love?” You question, using the shirt moment his mouth is off you to catch your breath.

“Maybe I’ve gotta put a ring on ya’ finger, that way those assholes at work will definitely know your spoken for, that youre all fuckin mine” he groans and pushes against your grip to dive back in and resume his mouths asssult on your throbbing cunt. His tongue pushing through tour slit distracts you from his statement about potentially proposing to you. Finally giving your aching clit attention, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, even biting softly at the bundle of nerves. His teeth send shivers down your spine, your thighs slightly shaking at either side of his face, he uses his hands gripping onto your legs as leverage to pull you even further down, forcing all your weight to be put on his face.

→ a/n: this wasn’t proofread, i rushed it and i kinda hate it lmao but I needed to get this out, i can already feel my effort and motivation for kinktober dwindling a bit.

[chvoswxtch]

i love you

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: everything has led to this.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, blood, & weapons, all the angst in the world (like all of it)

word count: 6.6k

a/n: i think this is the longest chapter to date, & definitely the most jam packed. grab a snack, a blanket, some tissues, & settle in. i can't accept your therapy invoices, but i will be here to provide comfort after. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

As dozens of Billy’s men filled the expansive underground space you were in, your ears picked up on several different sounds. The click of clips being loaded into guns, the rip of velcro straps on kevlar being pried open, the hiss of steel being sharpened to a fatal point. However your brain could barely focus on any of those sounds because the only ones that registered were the murmurs of casual conversations and the easy laughter that followed crude jokes.

These men might as well have been lingering around at a bar with a drink in their hand, not gearing up to go up against one of their own. Whether they were doing it out of loyalty to Billy, or just for the impressive paycheck waiting for them, you knew some of these egotistical fucks were doing it so they could be the one to say they did the impossible; to be able to say they brought down the Punisher.

Some of their faces you recognized from working with Frank when he was your bodyguard, trading off shifts with him, and providing extra detail when needed. It was a nauseating feeling realizing the entire time you thought you were being protected from the Defenders of Freedom, you were in the presence of an even greater threat and didn’t know it. How many of these guys wouldn’t have even hesitated to flip on you for the right price and take you out themselves?

These men knew where you lived, where you worked, who you knew, where you got your fucking coffee every morning, everything about you and your routine. They were prepping to go up against Frank, but you knew not a single one of them would bat an eye if Billy gave the order to kill you once he got what he wanted. Your eyes flickered over to his tall form standing across the room, watching him bark out orders to a group of men that looked like they were buzzing with anticipation for all hell to break loose. Every single person in this room wanted Frank dead.

And it made you sick.

Your mind was still reeling from learning the truth about him, about his past and who he really was. It was like you couldn’t process it. All the pieces were there, connected into place, but your brain refused to see the picture on top. How could they be the same man? 

Frank. Stubborn Frank that put up with your short fuse and shot back at your smartass remarks with his own. Thoughtful Frank that remembered your coffee order, that remembered every little thing you told him no matter how big or small, that neatly packed a bag for you full of your go to essentials and clothes when he brought you to Curtis. Sweet Frank that immediately apologized if he raised his voice too loud, that was going to sleep on the floor of a motel just to make sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable, that touched you like you were delicate glass he didn’t want to break.

Frank that had saved your life more times than you could count, and that had been by your side and protected you from everything he could for the last nine months.

That Frank, your Frank, was the same man that had been painted as a psychopath in the media for murdering thirty-seven people in cold blood.

“You still not talkin’ to me?”

Billy’s boots appeared in your line of sight, but you didn’t look up at him. After he’d forced you to put it all together, you’d completely shut down and gone silent. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been sitting in that chair still as a statue and mute while Billy and his men prepared for Frank’s arrival. While you were struggling to process the bombshell he’d dropped, one question kept popping into your head.

“Why did you give me that file?”

“Thought you’d wanna know. Seein’ as how you were such a big fan and all, writin’ all those articles praisin’ him-”

“I didn’t praise him.”

Billy seemed pleased with himself that he’d finally gotten you to look at him and speak to him. The cocky smirk that fleeted across his lips reignited a flame of resentment within you.

“You sure as hell didn’t condemn him neither.”

Clenching your jaw and setting your lips in a firm line, you looked away from Billy, glaring straight ahead. Your lack of response and attention made his smirk slip, and he let out an exhale of irritation through his nose while looking down at you.

“You know, I really thought you understood.”

Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you looked up at Billy in pinched cynicism and snapped at him.

“Understood what?”

“That things ain’t always black and white. That most things happen in that little gray area, where it gets a little messy. It ain’t always-”

“Oh shut the fuck up, William. Don’t try to preach at me to make yourself feel better about whatever shitty thing you did. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Billy’s eyes darkened at your sharp verbal lashing. He stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, his lips pressed together in a bitter line. He watched you turn your head and glower down at the floor as if it had personally wronged you, and he noticed how your bound hands slightly trembled from how pissed off you were. It was a complete 180 from your catatonic state five minutes earlier. He would’ve found it amusing if he wasn’t so annoyed.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the underground space went pitch black. The darkness was so opaque, you couldn’t even see your own hands when you looked down in their general direction. A murmur of confusion and irritation spread throughout Billy’s men, and the sound of guns being cocked and knives being unsheathed seemed to echo in the stillness. 

Not even a minute later, there was a loud click as the emergency lights from the backup generator switched on. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the dull light coming from the intermittently spaced fixtures. All of Billy’s men were looking between each other and the various exit points in the underground basement that were shrouded in ominous shadows. Billy shifted quickly into a more guarded stance, his eyes hard and jaw taut while turning his attention to the man standing closest to his left.

“Carson, take your men and check the breakers. Power station’s on the south side.”

“Yes sir.”

As the team of six disappeared down the hallway on the far right, Billy turned to face the remaining group of his men with a stern expression.

“Alpha team, you’re on the North exits. Bravo, you’re on the South. When Carson gets me an update on those breakers, Echo I want a rooftop visual. You know who’s coming. You know your orders.”

“Kill Castle.”

A blonde man you didn’t recognize had a cocky grin on his thin chapped lips, emphasizing his point by cocking his gun.

“He ain’t gonna hesitate to kill you.”

Some of the men exchanged glances at that statement before looking at Billy with a nod of affirmation. His dark brown eyes flickered over each of them, looking for any sign of fear or weakness.

“He does not leave here alive. You do whatever you gotta do to bring him down. Watch your six. Remember, there’s half a million waitin’ for whoever brings me the body.”

Frantically glancing between Billy and his men as they fully geared up, you gripped the arms of the chair while looking up at Billy in a mixture of incredulity and confusion. You thought Billy had brought his men in for defense. It was evident none of them had a problem killing Frank, but you assumed the whole point of their presence was to protect Billy, and to force Frank to surrender by outnumbering him so that Billy could trade for the intel. If they killed him on sight, Billy wouldn’t have any way to get what Frank found.

“I thought you said this was a trade.”

Turning his head to look down in your direction, Billy could see the clear panic on your face. There was a wicked gleam in Billy’s eyes as a sardonic smirk slowly tugged at the edge of his lips.

“Nah, sweetheart. It’s a trap.”

An icy trickle of dread cascaded down your spine rapidly and your breath hitched in your throat. Billy didn’t give a shit about what Frank had on him. He hadn’t brought him here to bargain. He’d lured him into an execution, using you as bait.

A cacophony of rapid gunfire and shouting unexpectedly echoed from the hallway on the far right that Carson’s team had disappeared down, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped in that direction. Billy’s smirk swiftly dropped from his mouth, and he quickly went rigid. But before anyone could even react, the resonation of bullets ricocheting and panicked yells abruptly stopped, and it went dead silent.

The previous arrogant attitude the remaining men had up until that moment seemed to rapidly evaporate, and their heavy breathing and wide eyed gazes betrayed their true apprehension as the reality of the situation sobered up their egos. They knew what that sound meant. They knew who it meant.

And so did Billy.

“Get to your positions.”

Billy’s dark eyes flickered over his men with a hardened glare when they didn’t move quickly enough, and his voice reverberated off the walls when he yelled.

“Now!”

Immediately, they started to disperse like scurrying ants, and the sound of their boots hitting the concrete floor in every direction echoed like claps of thunder. When you looked up at Billy again, you saw something in him you’d never seen before, something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

Fear.

At first the sound was so soft and quiet that when Billy looked down at you and saw your head tilted downwards and your shoulders faintly shaking, he thought you were crying. But when it grew louder in volume, Billy’s short lived concern turned into pure irritation as it became clear that you weren’t crying.

You were laughing.

The edge of his lips curled into a faint snarl as he lunged at you, slipping his hand into your hair to roughly yank your head backwards which earned a grunt of pain from you. Billy’s nose was barely half an inch from yours as he bent down and glared at you.

“What the hell is so funny?”

Staring him down with equal animosity, your lips slowly spread into a wide and wicked grin. Leaning in even closer to get in his face as much as he was in yours, you spoke in a harsh taunting tone laced with venom.

“You are so fucked.”

Billy stared into your eyes, seeing nothing in them but pure stubborn rage. His own lips spread into a dark smirk, and he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat instead, making a point to apply just enough pressure to make you inhale sharply. He could feel the thrum of your rapid pulse against his fingers, and his breath was warm against your lips when he leaned in closer.

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong darlin’. I got you.”

The sound of a knife being unsheathed was sharp in your ears, and the glint of a blade reflected in your eyes as Billy held the serrated steel in front of your face. Cocking his head to the side menacingly, he dragged the flat side of it down your slightly heaving chest slowly. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you refused to look away. A crisp rip suddenly sounded, and the pressure on your wrists was gone as he cut your restraints. 

“As long as I got you, I’m gettin’ outta here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at Billy as he bent down to cut the restraints around your legs. When he rose to his full height, he slipped the knife back into the sheath on his hip and reached out to grab your arm tightly, tugging you up to your feet roughly.

“C’mon, you’re with me.”

When he took a step forward, you yanked your arm out of his grasp, glowering up at him as you raised your chin defiantly and spoke through your teeth.

“Pussy.”

Billy’s eyes flickered with both annoyance and amusement. He slipped his gun out of his holster and held it at his side, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“Think I liked you better all tied up.”

“Yeah I'm sure you did.”

Ignoring your challenging stare, Billy grabbed your arm harshly again and started pushing you towards one of the exits that led down a long tunnel like hallway. The emergency backup lights lit up the path enough to navigate, but there were gaps of shadowed darkness in between them. You still had no idea exactly where you were, but it looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse or factory.

You struggled to keep up with the large stride of Billy’s long legs as he practically dragged you along with him. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his hand gripped tightly around the handle of the gun in his other hand, his index finger resting on the trigger. 

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes flickered down to the knife in the sheath on Billy’s hip. As your gaze darted quickly between the knife and Billy’s focused face, you took advantage of his diverted attention and impulsively reached for the handle to yank it out. The force of the movement caught Billy off guard and made his grip on your arm falter for a second. Ripping your arm away from his grip, you quickly took a few steps backwards and pointed the sharp tip of the knife in his direction. 

A crease formed between Billy’s dark brows as he glanced between the knife in your hand and the empty sheath on his hip before an expression of annoyed realization dawned on his sharp features. Letting out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose, Billy lifted his head and looked at you in pure vexation, clearly not feeling threatened by you in the slightest.

“Why are you so goddamn difficult? Gimme that.”

Billy held out his hand expectantly. Looking down at his outstretched palm, you lifted your gaze and glared up at him as you tightened your grip on the handle and grit through your teeth.

“No.”

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Billy took a step closer and cocked the hammer on his gun.

“Sweetheart, now ain’t the time-”

“You need me. You’re not gonna shoot me-”

Billy took another step forward and aimed his gun at your thigh, glowering down at you with a hardened look in his eyes. 

“Not in the head, but if you don’t give me that goddamn knife back and stop bein’ so fuckin’ difficult, you’re gonna be crawlin’ outta here.”

Staring up into his darkened eyes, your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew Billy was serious, and it made the adrenaline induced confidence in you falter. He could see that he’d unnerved you with his threat. He took another predatory step forward and held out his hand expectantly once again.

“Now, we’re gonna do this nice and-”

“Russo!”

Both of you instantly snapped your heads towards the other side of the dark hallway shrouded in unfiltered blackness as a familiar deep voice boomed from the end of it. The volume and intensity behind the war cry seemed to rattle your bones and left you frozen in place. Billy expertly swiped the knife from your grasp in a flash, pressing the serrated blade against your throat before you could even blink. He pointed his gun towards the end of the darkened hallway, his stance rigid.

“That you, Frankie?”

The sound of heavy boots against the concrete slowly started to grow louder as they traveled down the hall in your direction. You knew who they belonged to. You’d recognize those footsteps anywhere. Your heart seemed to pound just as loudly in your ears as they got closer and closer. Swallowing thickly, the movement made the blade just barely cut into your skin, but you couldn’t even feel it from the adrenaline coursing through you. All at once, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and your eyes went wide.

A white skull spontaneously appeared in the darkness, floating through it like an apparition. As it came closer, you could see that it was worn and faded, darkened with dirt and grime, coated in several deep red streaks and splatters of fresh blood with various bullets lodged into it. A merciless and unforgiving symbol of wrath and vengeance the worst of the worst in New York had learned to fear.

Time seemed to stand still when he stepped out of the shadows, and your blood ran cold when you were face to face with the Punisher for the first time.

Frank.

His large hands were covered in blood, and his knuckles were split and bruised. Deep shades of violet were blooming on his left cheek and around a fresh cut that was bleeding on his right cheekbone. There was a small split on the bridge of his large nose, and one on the left side of his top lip. The dim light above cast menacing shadows on his bruised and bloodied face, emphasizing the storm of rage brewing in his eyes. 

Frank stopped directly under the light, just a few feet away. You thought you’d seen Frank pissed before, but the way he was staring at Billy made you shudder. He was furious. The anger radiating off of him in waves was palpable.

“It didn't have to be like this, Frankie.”

Frank’s index and middle finger on his right hand twitched twice as he spoke in his gruff voice.

“It wouldn’t be if Madani hadn’t been right.”

“Surprised she trusted you at all. You were there in Kandahar, Frank. Hell, you’re the one that pulled the fuckin’ trigger on her partner. She know that?”

“I was followin’ orders. You were workin’ with Rawlins and Schoonover, sellin’ out your honor. For what, Bill? Money?”

Hearing the blatant disgust in Frank’s voice, Billy tightened his grip around the handle of the gun and the handle of the blade simultaneously. 

“You shoulda just left it alone, Frankie. But you chose that bitch Madani over me.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark brows and face scrunched in a concoction of disappointment and anguish as he looked at Billy. 

“You think I wanted to believe her, Bill? You think I wasn’t lookin’ for somethin’ to prove her wrong, huh? You think I wasn’t hopin’ to God I’d find nothin’?”

The despair laced within Frank’s rough voice killed you. 

“You shoulda come to me. I was your brother, Frankie. All of this, it was unavoidable.”

Billy gestured between you and Frank with his gun before aiming it at Frank again. Frank hadn’t looked at you once. His attention was solely focused on Billy. The second those words left Billy’s mouth, you saw the way Frank’s face slowly morphed into a forlorn portrait streaked in betrayal.

“Was killin’ my family unavoidable?”

Frank’s grief stricken question felt like an electric shock. Snapping your head to look up at Billy, you watched as he visibly stiffened, his grip on both weapons faltering as his face fell slightly.

“You do it, Bill?”

Billy wouldn’t meet Frank’s eye, or yours. He dropped his gaze downwards, and what appalled you was his lack of a reaction. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t try to deter Frank’s accusation or defend himself at all, didn’t offer any kind of correction or explanation. He was standing there quietly like Frank hadn’t just dropped a grenade of trauma between them.

“Look at me. Look at me!”

Frank’s loud voice booming once again made you flinch, and Billy finally lifted his head to look at him. Standing up straighter, Billy looked at Frank with unnerving calmness.

“I didn’t pull the trigger-”

“But you knew about it.”

Frank’s voice had been reduced to a wavering whisper. The dim light above highlighted the way his brown eyes had glossed over with treachery that threatened to spill at any second. The pain in his gaze and in his voice brought tears to your own eyes as you looked at him. Billy plastered an impassive look on his sharp features, giving a faint nod of his head and speaking with as much nonchalance as if he was discussing the weather.

“Yeah, I knew.”

Frank closed his eyes solemnly, a stray tear slipping down each of his cheeks, the clear droplets turning pastel pink as they mixed with the deep crimson stains of blood lingering on his face. Inhaling sharply, when Frank opened his eyes again, he looked away for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly as a muscle feathered in his jaw. His nostrils flared and his lips twitched as he faintly shook his head in denial and disbelief.

“She loved you. My kids loved you.”

“It was just business-”

“It wasn’t business when my kids were callin’ you ‘Uncle Billy’. It wasn’t business when Maria was makin’ sure you had somewhere to spend the holidays. It wasn’t business when I heard my family screamin’ for me. When I saw my wife and my boy…layin’ dead in the grass. When I held my baby girl in my arms, seein’ blood and meat pourin’ out of where her face should be.”

Billy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he appeared to swallow down even the slightest flicker of remorse. Frank’s bloodied and beaten face was stoic, but his eyes gave away how distraught he was knowing that Billy had been involved in orchestrating the massacre of his family. It hadn’t been an inopportune tragedy getting caught in the middle of a shootout. It had been a premeditated execution. The bullet in Frank’s head was meant to be a killshot.

When Frank lifted his gaze and looked at Billy again, there was nothing but pure hatred left.

“No. It wasn’t just business then, Bill, and it sure as hell ain’t just business now. It’s pretty goddamn personal.”

“I never wanted this-”

“Yeah, well you got it.”

Frank’s bereavement had evaporated from the blaze of retribution that was now burning in his eyes. Billy watched as Frank physically morphed from a brokenhearted man in mourning into a vengeful memento mori right before his eyes. The reality of what Billy had done was so much worse than your wildest imagination could’ve ever conjured. It burned through the short fuse of your temper, and as a surge of adrenaline shot through your nervous system, you shoved the knife away from your throat while Billy was distracted. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you struck your fist across his face, not even feeling the sharp pain that pierced your knuckles.

“You fucking coward.”

The unexpected impact made Billy stumble a half step backwards, dropping the knife that was in his other hand as it came up to clutch his jaw. He swiftly recovered from the hit and turned the gun on you. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there, killer. Let’s calm that little temper down. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face-”

Taking a step closer towards the gun aimed at your chest, you stared him down and bared your teeth in a faint snarl.

“Go ahead. It’ll be nothing compared to what he’s gonna do to yours.”

Billy visibly stiffened at your razor sharp taunt, and his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. Cocking his head to the side slightly, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he suddenly chuckled darkly at your fearless rage.

“Goddamn, Frankie. She this feisty in bed?”

“The hell are you doin’?”

At first you didn’t realize that Frank was talking to you. In the midst of your unfiltered anger, you were still glaring up at Billy. It wasn’t until Frank called your name in a harsh reprimand that you turned to look at him and saw that he was finally looking at you. A flash of confusion interrupted your adrenaline induced wrath noticing that his anger seemed to now be directed at you instead of Billy.

“What?”

“I said what the hell are you doin’? He’s got a goddamn gun, Y/N-”

“Yeah I can see that, it’s pointed at my fucking face.”

Frank clenched his jaw when you snapped at him with equal frustration. He let out a puff of air through his lips and shook his head as he glanced around in pure irritation.

“For Christ’s sake, you never fuckin’ listen, do ya? You’re always runnin’ your goddamn mouth instead of doin’ what you’re told. What’d I say, huh?”

A look of raw hurt and puzzled betrayal crossed your face when Frank yelled at you. You were taken aback by the hostility in his gaze and in his voice. He was staring you down in a way that almost made you shudder. 

“I told you keep your distance, yeah? I said stay offline. But you just push, you can’t ever let go of that need for control, can you? And now look at you, underneath all this shit, got your panties all in a fuckin’ twist. You never hesitate, do ya? Just like that day in the cabin.” 

Frank’s angry tirade sent such an unexpected shock through you, it took you a moment to register what he was actually saying, but the mention of the cabin abruptly made it click and a light bulb seemed to go off when you realized what Frank was doing.

Distance. Offline. Push. Control. Underneath. Twist. Never hesitate.

“You always aim for my goddamn nerves.”

Frank roughly smacked his palm against his own shoulder in what looked like a display of frustration, but you understood what it really meant. 

“Just do what I said. You got that?”

He stared at you with a look in his eyes only you could decipher, a silent communication passing between the two of you, and you steeled your expression as you swallowed thickly and gave him a subtle but imperceptible nod. 

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Show me.”

Billy had been looking between you and Frank, amused by your little lover's quarrel. Frank’s final words made his dark brows furrow in curiosity, and when he turned his head to look at him, you quickly surged forward and gripped the barrel of the gun in your left hand, pushing it away from you and slipping your right hand under Billy’s wrist. Twisting the barrel forcefully to the right, Billy grunted as his wrist unexpectedly twisted with it forcing his grip to loosen. The second you pulled it away from his grasp and stepped back, he lunged forward, and you fired a shot right at his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Billy’s back collided with the wall behind him when the bullet ripped through his right shoulder, his hand immediately coming up to apply pressure. Before the shock of what you’d just done could even register, Frank rushed forward and nearly tackled you as he wrapped his arms around your frame and forced you forward into a sprint. He dragged you down another hallway, and by the time you finally stopped running, your lungs were burning and your hands were trembling.

Frank grabbed you by your shoulders, ducking his head to capture your frantic gaze.

“Listen to me, I need you to run.”

Staring up at him wide eyed, a crease of confusion nestled between your brows.

“What?”

“Madani’s waitin’ outside, Homeland’s got the place surrounded. Take this hallway all the way down. You run, and you don’t look back for nothin’, you got that?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Frank’s rapidly. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened, but the thought of leaving Frank seemed to snap you out of your shock. A stubborn look of refusal contorted your features as you looked up at him.

“Wha-no. No, I’m not leaving you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and stared down into your eyes with a pleading expression.

“Hey…hey, listen to me sweetheart, listen. I gotta finish this. I can’t…I can’t let it go.” 

Frank paused as he swallowed thickly and looked down at you, a sheen of remorse shining in his apologetic expression. His next words felt like a shot to the chest.

“And you can’t stay. You gotta go, you gotta walk away.”

The second those words left his lips, it felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs. You immediately started to shake your head in refusal.

“Frank-”

“Go, now.”

“Frank, don’t do this-”

Frank leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hated how much it felt like a goodbye. When he pulled back, he looked down at you with a tender expression and somber swirls in his warm brown eyes. His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when he traced his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

“I love you, you got that? I love you, but you gotta walk away.”

Tears immediately sprang in your eyes as you slowly shook your head and begged him in a desperate whisper.

“Frank please-”

“Hey, shh shh shh.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your forehead in a delicate show of affection, allowing them to linger for a moment before he let go and took a step backwards.

“You gotta do this for me, baby. Please. Please, just this once, do what I ask.”

As soon as he stepped backwards, you stepped forwards and instinctively reached for his hand, gripping onto it tightly. Tears slipped past your bottom lash line while you looked up at him with raw emotion in your eyes, silently begging him not to go. 

“Go.”

Frank spoke in a gentle voice, giving your hand a faint squeeze before pulling his away, the blood that had been on his hand now staining yours. Without another word or glance, he turned to walk away, determined to find Billy and finish this. All you could do was watch him disappear, standing right where he left you, feeling like you’d just been shattered into a thousand helpless pieces.

With tears streaming down your face, you could feel panic start to rise in your chest. Turning to look down at the other end of the hallway, your fight or flight seemed to kick in and you started to run frantically. Just as you rounded one of the corners, one of Billy’s men popped out, drawing his rifle on you. Quickly you aimed the gun in your hand back at him, but before either of you could shoot, something suddenly flew out of nowhere and knocked the guy out.

He dropped to the ground with a thud, and you whirled around to aim the gun in your hands towards the shadow it had come from. Your breathing was ragged, and your hands were shaking as you gripped the handle until your knuckles turned stark white. A deep voice suddenly sounded from the darkness.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Soft footsteps approached, and out of the dark shadows, a pair of dark red horns glinted under the light. 

Daredevil.

Your eyes widened as he came into the light, his gloved hands help up in a show of surrender. You were completely stunned as he took cautious steps forward until he was in front of you, reaching out with one hand to gently place it on top of the barrel of the gun, slowly lowering it down.

“Go all the way towards the end of the hall. There’s an exit on your right.”

A look of confusion crossed your features as you glanced down the darkened hallway before looking back up at him. He’d come from an entirely different direction. 

“How do you-”

“Just trust me.”

Staring up into the dark lenses of his cowl, you turned your head to look back in the direction of where you’d just run from, where Frank had disappeared. All at once, the gravity of the situation felt too heavy, and you almost buckled under it.

“I…I can’t. I can’t.”

“You need to leave-”

“I can’t leave him.”

Hearing how panicked your breathing was starting to become, he stepped forward, gently grabbing your shoulders to get your attention, and you looked up at him in blurry hopelessness. 

“Listen to me, I'm not gonna let anything happen to him, alright? I promise.”

You couldn’t move. The daunting possibility of losing Frank was overwhelming. This whole thing felt like a devastating nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. Feeling your hesitation, Daredevil gently squeezed your shoulders again and spoke in an even softer voice.

“Y/N, Frank asked me to help keep you safe. Please let me do that.”

The way he said your name ignited a spark of recognition in your head, and it had a calming effect. You knew that voice. You’d heard it before. Something about him seemed…familiar, and not just because you’d covered articles about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Something about the way he said Frank’s name sounded familiar too. Letting your eyes wander over his figure in the red and black suit, the gears started turning in your head as you studied the bottom half of his face that wasn’t covered.

“Say his name again.”

“What?”

“Just say it.”

Even with half of his face covered, you could tell that he was clearly puzzled by your request.

“Frank.”

Immediately, it hit you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him in shock, a breathless whisper of his name leaving your lips in disbelief.

“Matt?”

His plump lips parted, and he pulled back as he stood up straight, tilting his head to the side slightly. Before he could stammer out a response, he abruptly turned his to the left, and he dropped his hands from your shoulders.

“There's seven heavily armed men coming this way.”

Turning your head, you stared down the darkened hallway he was looking at in puzzlement. You couldn’t see or hear anything. Looking back up at him, you blinked a few times before tilting your head to the side and staring up at him in complete bewilderment.

“What? How the fuck do you-”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like being a blind lawyer but also Daredevil.”

Matt pursed his lips at your dry tone and sass. He took a step away from you and bent down to pick up the baton up off the floor next to the unconscious man. 

“Down the hall. Exit on the right. Go.”

Watching him pull out another baton, you threw your hands up in exasperation, still gripping onto the gun in your hand.

“And what the hell are you gonna do? You said there’s heavily armed men coming and you’re gonna, what? Throw your sticks at them?”

Matt cocked his head to the side as he glanced in your direction, slightly amused by your irritated skepticism. 

“They’re batons.”

“Oh, excuse me. Batons. You’re gonna throw your batons at the group of ex-special forces coming this way with automatic weapons.”

A cocky smirk stretched across his lips at your dry sarcasm, and he started to walk backwards.

“Have a little faith, sweetheart.”

When he took off running down the hall, you ran your hand stressfully through your hair, glancing around in complete disbelief. Your boyfriend was the Punisher. Your lawyer was Daredevil. And you were at your wit’s fucking end.

“What the fuck is going on.”

The second you pushed the door open to the exit that led outside, a blinding flash of light had you bringing your hands up to your face, including the one still holding the gun. A swarm of agents wearing protective gear and aiming guns in your direction swiftly rushed towards you, yelling out orders that had you freezing.

“Drop the weapon! Drop it now!”

In a panic, you quickly dropped the gun and held your hands up in surrender. There were police cars, S.W.A.T. trucks, helicopters floating above, and dozens upon dozens of various officers and agents surrounding the area. They were yelling at you to get down on the ground, and you were glancing between all of them anxiously, feeling like you were about to start hyperventilating as you tried to stutter out an explanation. 

Before you could get your limbs to work again and comply, a familiar voice carried over the aggressive demands.

“Stand down, now!”

Madani forcefully broke through the line of agents that had you surrounded, shoving her gun into the holster on her hip as she all but ran over towards you. Her brown eyes scanned over you intensely, quickly assessing for any sign of damage or injury. 

“What happened? Is Billy still in there? Where’s Frank?”

“I…I shot him.”

A crease of perplexity formed between Madani’s dark brows hearing your shaky response.

“What? You shot who?”

“Billy.”

Madani arched one of her dark brows in surprise, and what looked like a hint of pride. She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

“Is he dead?”

The anxiety coursing through your system was cresting, threatening to crash over you and trap you beneath the tide. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and you were shaking uncontrollably. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

Madani reached out to grab your arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze as she attempted to keep you calm while she looked at you.

“Y/N, where’s Frank?”

“He-”

All at once you froze. Madani felt you freeze up, and her brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own rapidly for an answer when she saw your eyes go wide with recognition and shock. She called your name again, but it was muffled in your ears and distant, like your head was underwater. A shaky whisper slipped past your lips as they parted.

“I didn't say it back.”

Madani was watching you intently, trying desperately to figure out what was going on and what had happened.

“Didn’t say what back? What are you talking about?”

In an instant, your eyes welled up with thick tears that turned Madani into a blurry silhouette, and you gripped onto her as though someone had punched a hole through your chest and ripped your heart right out. A choked sob caught in your throat when the gravity of what you had missed hit you with enough force to send a crack through your soul.

“I didn’t say it back, Dinah.”

Turning your head to look back at the abandoned factory behind you, the burden of your mistake fractured your rib cage, and a tide of agony and regret burst through the broken pieces like a wrathful flood. Madani caught you in her arms as you collapsed against her, pulling you into her chest when you succumbed to the grief and completely broke down in tears, letting out a wail of his name that tore through your throat and left it raw.

Frank had told you he loved you, and you didn’t say it back.

You didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[luveline]

Hey jade!! i love your writing so much<3

Also what do you think of prison!spencer × Stripper!reader?👀

im not sure if this is what you meant but I hope you like it ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Too much," you murmur to yourself, tilting your head one way and then the other. The bags under your eyes have been dark lately from a severe lack of sleep, but all this makeup won't help make tips. "Way too much." 

You lean back to ask one of the girls for a wet wipe but the dressing room is empty. Swearing to yourself, you duck down for your bag. You have tissues, and they'll have to do it. 

Things have been hard since Spencer's… event. You don't sleep well without him, worse wondering what it is he's going through right now. His friends don't really know that you're seeing one another, and so being kept in the loop has felt akin to begging for scraps. You miss Agent Hotchner in times like this. He always had a soft spot for you. 

You hum a song under your breath as you rub the cakey makeup under your eyes. Washing your face would be nice. Going home would be better. You've been trying to make some extra money in case Spencer never comes home; you won't have his security to fall back on if things fall apart here. 

You don't want his security. You just want him to come home. Sighing, you pick up your phone and open the gallery app. It's a second hand thing you got at a pawn shop but it has enough storage to keep as many blurry photos of your boyfriend as you'd like. Pictures of him everywhere and doing everything, his big smile like a beacon. 

You stop scrolling when you find the one you want. It's favourited with a red heart at the bottom of the screen. Spencer took it, you remember —you were too busy kissing his cheek to navigate the settings. He looks happy. You could never understand how happy he is to be with you, how through everything, a long time of knowing one another and a hundred thousand acts of a kindness you didn't deserve, he's stayed by your side. He doesn't care that you're a dancer. He's proud of your choices. He loves you for you, even if he does get a little jealous every now and then. 

You lay your phone down on the dressing table, cheek flat beside it. "Time to come home, Dr. Reid," you whisper. 

Your phone pings and you ignore it. It pings again and you turn off your notifications. It's probably Spencer's nice friend Penelope, or one of the girls wanting to borrow something. 

You shed your robe to look yourself over in the mirror. The lingerie you're in tonight's not to your taste but a fan favourite, the bra and underwear both plum in colour with lace and black garters to be clipped. You turn to one side and narrow your gaze at a ladder running up your leg. 

You save a bottle of clear nail polish in your bag for this occasion. 

You're sitting on the floor with your leg out in front of you when someone knocks on the door. The girls don't knock. 

If it's a patron you have a taser, and besides, they don't usually knock either. A bouncer, then. 

"Come in, please!" you call lightly. 

You don't bother looking up, a creature of habit. It'll be the same thing as usual, insert man wants to buy insert dance from you for insert amount of time. Are you interested? 

You hum as you paint the rip in your garter. The nail polish will stop it from ripping any further, but you're going to need new ones. 

"You're prettier than when I left. How did you do that?" 

You tip the bottle over as you flinch, you don't care, you look up at the compliment and the familiar voice, and find Spencer standing in the doorway. 

You've pictured this moment multiple times a day since the day he was arrested, hundreds of reactions. In pretty much all of them you throw yourself into his arms and beg him not to leave again, but all those hours of missing him coalesce on top of you. You want desperately to touch him and you end up crying into your hands instead. Tears quicker than you knew they could arrive, hot and thick as your sob. 

"Hey," Spencer says, kneeling down in front of you. He takes your wrists into his hands. "Hey… don't cry." 

You can't help it. 

He wraps his arms around you and lets you sob. "I thought you'd be happy to see me," he murmurs. 

"I missed you," you say, the words dragged from you like agony on a hook. 

"I missed you too." He rubs your back. If he cares that you're in your underwear he doesn't have much to say about it. He eventually started making jokes about all of this stuff when he realised you wouldn't be offended, but he's never cruel about anything. He's far from it now, pulling your shoulder into his chest as he pats your arms. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm really sorry. It got out of control. But, on the bright side…" 

You sniffle and pull your gaze up to his face. When you see the hollows of his cheeks you almost start crying again. "What?" you ask. 

"Well, now I'm cool enough to be your boyfriend." 

You push him backwards and crawl into his lap, knees on either side of him, weight against his abdomen. Your arms weave behind his head and you push your cheek into his likely too hard to be painless. He just sighs in relief. 

"Do you have something in your pocket?" you whisper, your voice stuffy. "Or was prison very hard?" 

He laughs and digs in between you to pull the little box that had been digging into you out of his pocket. "It's for you." 

"Don't want it." 

"I don't care if you want it. I missed our anniversary." 

"I missed you," you say, clinging to him for dear life.

You can't stop hugging him long enough to look. 

Eventually, he peels you off of the floor and you get dressed to go home with him. It takes a long time —you keep stopping to hug him between items of clothing, checking that he's real, that's he's him, even if he looks different now. He has to take the reins or you'll never make it home, pulling your coat over your shoulders and zipping it closed. 

When he's done, he takes your face into both hands. "You've been safe while I was gone? No trouble?" he asks. 

"Nobody messes with me. My boyfriend's in the FBI." 

"Well, we're taking a vacation." He blows out a big breath. "Jesus, I'm sorry, but I really need to kiss you right now." 

"Even though I look junky?" 

"You look perfect." He kisses you before he's finished, his praise smothered by your lips. He kisses you so hard you can't breathe by the end of it. "I'm sorry," he says, pressing a softer one under your eye. "Prison was actually pretty hard." You lean in, lingering nose to nose with him. "I couldn't sleep without you near me." 

"You're only saying that 'cos you saw me in my underwear." 

"Yeah, that's exactly why." He practically giggles. "No, I just love you."

You couldn't sleep without him either. You get home and sleep for days, tangled with each other in bedraggled sheets. 

[xothatnerdykid]

guilty as sin

You're a dedicated nurse who loves their job even when it means taking care of stubborn, battle-worn pro-heroes (or maybe especially then). Aizawa Shouta x gn!reader. Set between S6 & S7. Fluff, slight angst with comfort. SFW, 2k words.

The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air as you walk down the pristine white hallways of Central Hospital. The raid against the Paranormal Liberation Front had left the medical facility overcrowded, understaffed, and bustling with activity. You yourself had been working tirelessly for the last 24 hours straight to care for the numerous injured heroes and civilians. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, your feet dragging slightly with each step. Your shift was supposed to have ended hours ago, and you were more than ready to clock out and get some much-needed rest. However, there was just one patient left to see.

You knock at the door. 

"Good morning," you greet the man lying down on the bed. You don't have the strength to muster a smile, but that's okay. He doesn't seem to either. 

Instead, he gives you a familiar nod. "Good morning."

He was a brooding, reserved man of a few words. With dark hair and even darker eyes - well, eye, the other being wrapped in bandages - he looked more tired than you some days. You can't fault him for that though. You knew he had been at the front lines of the battle that day and had paid a heavy price for it. 

He sits up as you come closer, approaching his bedside. The room is quiet, save for the soft beeping of the machines monitoring his vitals.

"How are you feeling today?"

He shrugs. "I've been better. I've been worse."

"I can see that," you nod, noting the way his complexion is less pale and his hair less unruly today compared to the past week. You open the blinds for him, warm light streaming into the dim room. “More sunlight ought to be good for you.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, blinking up at the bright, blue sky out the window. 

You take that as your cue to go about your usual tasks silently, adjusting his IV, checking his bandages, writing down his vitals. 

Then, out of the blue, he says, “You’ve been working long hours lately. You should get some rest.” 

"Believe me, I will. Just as soon as you're taken care of first."

"I'm fine,” he responds in a clipped, dismissive tone of voice.

“Fine or not, it's my job to make sure you’re comfortable and healing properly. You went through a lot, losing an eye and a leg. Frankly, I’m not sure we should go through with discharging you tomorrow.”

He heaves a tired sigh, “Like I said, I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too.” 

Frowning, you sit down on the bedside chair and take a moment to look at him. Despite his stoic facade, you can see the toll all those years of being a hero have taken on him, especially the past few weeks. The dark circles under his remaining eye, the weary lines and scars etched into his face. The worried, pained look that lingers even when he's trying to relax. 

"You know, it's okay to admit that you're not feeling great. From what I've been told, it seems like you've been through hell and back."

He shrugs again, leaning back against the pillows with a wince that he tries to hide. "It comes with the job. If anyone deserves your concern, it's my students."

“It must be hard, seeing them fight in a war. They’re just children, after all.”

He nods grimly, his mouth a tight line. "And because of this—" he touches the bandages covering his eye "—my quirk is pretty much useless now, especially on the villains we’re up against.”

He doesn't say it, but you can hear it in the tightness of his voice, his clenched jaw, his hands fisting the bedsheet. You know what he really means: “I'm useless now."

You want to reach out to touch him, maybe place your hand atop his, but you're not sure if he'd welcome such a gesture, especially from someone he's only known for a short time. You settle for a few sympathetic words instead, folding your hands in your lap. 

"Aizawa-san, do you honestly think your quirk is the only thing that makes you a hero? You've done so much for your students, for so many people. You're a mentor and a role model to these kids. I'm sure they trust and look up to you more because of this, not less.”

He looks at you for a long moment, that same unreadable expression on his face.

"I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t protect them the way I used to."

"Maybe not, but even without your quirk, you have your experience, your wisdom, and a heart that cares deeply for them. That's more than enough."

Instead of responding, he stares silently up at the ceiling. You don't push him, resigning to let the moment simply stretch out. After all, this is the most you've ever talked to him the whole week.

As he gets lost in his thoughts, you find yourself mentally tracing the contours of his face, where the sunlight bathes his skin in a soft, warm glow. It accentuates the strong lines of his jaw, his nose. Softens the look in his dark eyes. 

You take a quiet breath, surprised by the fluttering sensation in your chest. It's an odd time and place to notice something like this, but you can’t deny there's a certain rugged handsomeness to him.

You shift your weight, feeling a little self-conscious about your own thoughts. It’s unprofessional, you chide yourself, to think of a patient this way. But the inexplicable attraction you feel for the man before you is unmistakeable.

Aizawa turns slightly, catching you off guard as his eyes meet yours. When he finally speaks again, his voice is softer, almost contemplative. 

“It's strange. There was a time in my life when I wouldn't have cared what happened to me in the line of duty, whether I lived or died. But now...I want to live for those kids. My kids.”

You manage a wobbly smile even as your heart aches at his words. "Your students are lucky to have someone who cares about them so much."

“You remind me of them a little bit.” He lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling softly in the quiet room. “Determined, stubborn, always insisting on helping.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

The corner of his lips quirk up, and the realization that he might actually be teasing you sends your heart aflutter. 

“Mostly good,” he murmurs. “A little bit troublesome for me though.”

“Yeah?” You bite back a smirk. “You’ve been a bit troublesome for me, too, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the pillows. “Is that so? And how do you propose I make it up to you, then?”

Maybe it’s the huskiness of his voice, the quiet intensity of his gaze, or the faint smile tugging at his lips, but something about him in this moment makes your stomach freefall. And you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him, passionately and spontaneously, as if afraid to see sense. 

You know you shouldn't indulge this, should put a stop to this train of thought before it gains too much momentum. You’re thankful you manage to keep your voice steady despite the rush of blood pounding in your ears. 

“Well, Aizawa-san, you could start by taking me out to dinner. Dealing with a patient as stubborn as you has its price, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake. But then his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you feel your breath hitch. He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful yet guarded, as if trying to read between the lines of your playfulness.

“I suppose,” he concedes softly. “But you might find that I’m not as interesting as you think, Y/N. I’m just a man who cares about the people in his life and does what he can to protect them.”

"That's exactly what I like about you.” Your voice drops to a whisper, your hand lightly brushing against his.

He groans softly, and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the sound. He rubs his hand down his face, seemingly weighing his options. 

It’s not too late, you assure yourself in a rush of anxious thoughts. You haven’t crossed any lines you can’t go back on, haven’t overstepped the delicate boundary between patient and nurse, between flirtation and something more. 

“Will you let me kiss you at the end of the date?”

Oh.

The line is a dot now.

You swallow hard and — heart pounding in your chest, everything else spinning dizzyingly out of focus — you rush forward to close the distance between you, pressing your lips urgently against his. 

The spark you felt before intensifies into an electrifying current now, racing down your spine as he tangles one hand in your hair and another holds you by the nape. He tilts your head back to kiss you deeper, his lips hungrily exploring yours, and you feel drunk on the pleasure of his touch, the intoxicating scent of his skin and his aftershave.

The softness of his lips contrasts with the roughness of his stubble, sending shivers of delight coursing through you. His mouth is warm and inviting, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the way he breathes you in, the quiet sighs of pleasure that escape both of you. 

Your mind spins with the realization of how much you’ve wanted this and how many ill-advised daydreams you’ve had of him these past few weeks. When you finally break apart for air, you keep your forehead pressed against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears drowns out the rhythmic beeping of the machines around you, and for a moment, the world feels narrowed down to just the two of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” Your breath comes in ragged gasps. Your fingers gingerly touch your lips, which are pursed in surprise. “That was reckless of me. I shouldn’t have.”

Aizawa blinks at you, his dark eyes wide and dazed, like he’s trying to process what just happened. He licks his lips, a gesture that sends a fresh wave of warmth through your body.

“Do you…” His voice is husky, tinged with uncertainty. “Do you regret it?”

“No, of course not,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I only regret not doing it at a better time.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise before softening, the tension in his shoulders seemingly melting away. 

"Good," he murmurs, reaching for you, his thumb cradling your jaw and tracing small, soothing circles on your skin. “Because I’d like to do it again—”

He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And again—”

He brushes his lips teasingly against yours, feather-light and promising of more.

“And again.”

The admission sends a thrill through you, a rush of joy and excitement that makes your pulse quicken. "All the more reason to look forward to dinner, I suppose. After you get better, that is."

He chuckles softly. "Shouldn't be a problem, seeing as how I have an excellent nurse taking care of me."

"Mmmhm. Speaking of, is there anything else I can do to make you…more comfortable before I leave?” You can't help but ask, a playful lilt in your voice.

He captures your lips in a delicate kiss, so sweet and tender, like a dream barely skimming the surface of reality. You've finally calmed down enough to hear the sound of his heart rising, betrayed by the loudening beep of the machine. His hand trails down your arm and he laces his fingers with yours, smiling against your lips. 

“I can think of a few things.”

[fryday]

Everything We Know About The Phagenda

I needed a place to organise all the info we've gotten from DNP about what the hell they're cooking, so this is the place. I might have missed things, so please always check the original post for the most up to date version of contents as I might change or add things over time. Any questions, just shoot me an ask or something. Thank you and happy conjecturing!

I tried to arrange the info roughly chronologically in each category.

It's probably more than one thing

Dan mentioned some things coming "somewhat after and a little bit soon after"

Phil said, "We've got a few things in our mouth at the moment"

Definition of "agenda" suggests multiple things

Money stuff

Phil made his cactus club subscription more affordable in preparation for what he and Dan are doing next

Phil took a question about what they're cooking in his latest Q&A video. He said that something may or may not "happen in the next month", but did not answer the section asking if we should be saving up for it.

Those who RSVP'ed will "be notified first as soon as the news drops" -> presumably related to a limited quantity of items up for grabs, which is why I've included it in this section, but that's just my guess

Concept / Nature of the Thing(s)

Someone on Twitter said, "So the phlonde has been in the works for months if that was the main reason he let his hair grow out" and Dan replied with, "what else is he plotting"

Dan and Phil included a blurred out image of a text message in their video, which Dan called "the draft for something that is top secret".

SuperSeizer (one of Dan and Phil's editors) is in on what's happening (the other person in this interaction is their other editor Kris, who may also be involved, depending on how you read this interaction)

In his birthday livestream, Dan talked about how they revived the gaming channel not knowing what the response would be, and were shocked by the enthusiasm from their audience. "Because it seems like there's a thing here. [...] And we need to be like, celebrate the things, acknowledge the things. So, I guess we can say in the most vague way that we can that Dan and Phil have been cooking."

Dan posted his story with the words, "the time is nigh - want to know what dan and phil have been secretly cooking? / reply to this story with: RSVP / and we will send you a dm as soon as the truth is revealed"

Another definition of "agenda" is "the underlying intentions or motives of a particular person or group".

5 of the images in the TV screens have been identified as of right now: Phil's Video Blog, Hello Internet, Saying Goodbye Forever, Giving The People What They Want, and Something We Want to Tell You

Laylo, the website DNP are using for this announcement, is a platform that creators can use to release merch, tickets, or content.

The initial wave of people who RSVP'ed got their confirmation emails from news@mail.danandphiltour.com with the reply email being dh@danielhowell.com. It was then changed; now the emails come from news@laylo.danandphilshop.com with the reply email being danandphilshopweb@gmail.com.

Dan and Phil would have been aware that they were using the tour email at first, as they would have had to manually enter it themselves. (Thanks @dnpbeats for the investigative work!)

They included a 3-second teaser clip at the end of the Sims fashion makeover episode.

[happy74827]

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

[legendofmorons]

Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.

Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.

When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.

Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.

That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.

They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.

In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.

A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.

As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.

How do you think the boys would move forward from this?

-VS Anon

Dreamscape

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.

Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.

Warnings: none.

Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.

You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.

Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.

Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.

So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.

A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.

You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.

In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.

A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.

A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think

A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.

Even the small flute from your travels.

"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.

You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.

This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.

Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.

The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.

A river runs through it.

Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.

You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.

-------

After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.

First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.

Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.

And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.

You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.

The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.

You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.

Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.

With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.

You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.

Okay, this is a lot.

"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.

"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.

"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.

You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.

"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.

"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."

"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.

"Maybe."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.

"I'm Time."

"Legend."

"Hi, I'm Wind!"

"Wild."

"I'm Warriors."

"Hyrule!"

"I'm Sky."

"Four."

You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.

"I'm (Y/n/n)."

-------

Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.

The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.

He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.

"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."

"What?" Hyrule chokes.

"You're name is (Y/n)?"

About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.

"Uh- yeah?"

"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.

"Oh stars." Time mutters.

"I mean, maybe?"

"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.

"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."

"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.

"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."

"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"

"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"

"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.

"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.

This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.

"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.

"Glad I helped?"

"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.

[yugsly]

Hey uhhh. Sorry if this is too spoilery. So that Zine. Mentioning Capochin. THE FULL ON EMO EXCLUSIVE.

Do you think Capochin and [Redacted] improve together? They got a lot of work to do?? Is it okay for them to be together?

I wanna know MORE and I just. People are SCARED for Capochin myself included uhhhh.

PLEASE I NEED ANSWERS

Hey, before I say anything- I know they're mine and Day's characters, but anything I talk about related to "post-game" or context not in-game is still "speculation". Meaning, not necessarily canon unless it was something recorded in dev-text or something I specifically had in mind while creating it, not after. I would never want to snuff out anyone's own ideas for what things "mean". THAT BEING SAID, I have some things to say- DO NOT READ ON UNLESS YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE GAME:

So, It's pretty complicated and I've thought about it a lot during and after making the game. Hector's got to do a LOT of work to even earn Capochin's forgiveness, if he'll even give it to him. (if most anyone will give it to him, really.) It's a silly cartoon game but yes, the situation is pretty grim. I mean, you've seen that cooking video Capo made. You've seen what he said when you faced him at the end of the line. All those implications. Without getting into specifics, yeah, the situation was really, really bad. But it's complex. It's not black and white. Hector and Capo knew eachother for a long long time even before Hector became Inspekta (a nosy person might have noticed the news clippings in Milldread). So they go way back- and I imagine things were pretty great up until, and a good ways into Hector ascending. But you know, there was a certain turning point- leading to where he ended up. Razzma speaks on this a bit, throughout. (Razzma has a lot of interesting background tidbits, explore giving her different phrases!) Him realizing that becoming a god didn't solve his insecurities like he thought they might... and more... I won't elaborate too much, because I want you to imagine it yourself. I only want to spread a few bread crumbs and let you make up your minds, even if I have my own thoughts, you know? Your question: "Is it okay for them to be together?" Well, that's up to you to decide. It's okay to imagine whatever you want. Capo forgives Hector eventually? Great. He never forgives him? Also Great! Do I wish I had more time in-game to elaborate on these things? Sure, I do. There's a handful of things I'd love to have explored. But I also like that it's open ended- you can tell, at the end, even though the day was saved, Hector and Capo feel awful. Sure, Capochin gave him that confidence boost to save the day- nothing he said was a lie- it was just the right thing to do in the moment. But you know, they don't really get a chance to really hash it out. It allows for y'all to really brainstorm, the world is your oyster. Whatever you come up with- be kind to eachother and respect eachother's ideas, okay?

[kuroppiii]

  soft launch ᵕ̈        timeskip! sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : it's just a silly   ⋮⋮  little tiktok, nothing major ... ⋮⋮  right ?

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛     ♡ # 2.6k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🎶 on shuffle “ never lose me ” - flo milli ( specifically the trending clip of " yeah he my man , he was never your type . if you try me , ho it ' s on sight " , but whatever tiktok audio you ended up using is up to you lol <3 )

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ��� “ first time i ' ve pulled myself together to write about sakusa bc when i think about him , i simply can ' t think straight . an exaggeration ? man i wish !! ”

you weren’t anyone special, really. you lived your life, pursuing your goals and hobbies, spending time with those you love. there were things you were good at, sure, but any sort of recognition or praise for those things only ever came from those closest to you. if you walked down the street, no one would bat an eye. "ordinary" couldn't have described you any better.

your boyfriend on the other hand, star wing spiker and outside hitter of the msby jackals, jersey number 15, sakusa kiyoomi certainly was a bit extra-ordinary in the public's eye.

if you took any of his official social media accounts, they easily skyrocketed ahead of any of your accounts in the sheer numbers of following or likes or views. but that's only natural, as the reasons you love your boyfriend–talented, cool, handsome–surely would be shared by the thousands he's subjected to by being in the limelight of the popular and successful pro-volleyball team.

but what else is natural, is that you've always wanted to be able to "soft launch" him, your boyfriend. you've scrolled through your tiktok "for you" page and your pinterest feeds and have undoubtedly saved every "soft launch inspo <3" post you've seen.

the idea was just perfect, you thought–sakusa often prefers not having his face in photos or videos anyway.

to sakusa, however, well... he didn’t really get it until you sat down and had to explain it. you always found it ironic he was never the most active online despite having the bigger following count between the two of you, after all.

“so you want to go public?” he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.

"well, yes. but also no," you tried to clarify, leaving him with an even more perplexed face that tugged at your lips as you smiled and calmly continued with your elaboration.

you and him have discussed how to navigate your relationship with his volleyball stardom in the past before. it's not like your closest friends and family didn't know about your relationship, but granted, some of your more casual friends and acquaintances who followed your socials probably didn't entirely know either.

the general public definitely did not know, though, of course. but that's why you'd just post something on your accounts, significantly smaller than his.

“are you okay with that?" you made sure to confirm with him, after explaining your thought process on the whole idea.

he came over to you and placed his hands on your hips gently, a concentrated look in attempts to understand your idea adorning his features as he spoke, “i mean, i'd love to be able to finally let everyone know about us–but really it's up to you if you're okay with it. when it comes to things like this—always has, love.”

and what he said was true, from the moment you started dating he was always trying to protect your peace from the media and reporters and cameras. to him, you were like his private repose from all that. but admittedly, as time went on, you both came to realize keeping your relationship under wraps could get pretty hard at times, especially when you wished to go on normal dates out and about instead of resorting to small secluded get-togethers with the handful of people you who knew or nights spent inside your home.

you shook your head as you reached up to brush some of his curls out of his face, revealing his beauty marks above his eye—brows subtly knit together as he considered how your idea might play out in the longrun.

his arms lovingly pull you even closer as you reassure him, "it's just my friends and family who might see it, anyway. it's just a fun little thing to do, omi, that's all!"

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

a few days later, you and sakusa had an event to attend with the rest of his team. it was a nice dinner so you were all dressed up–the perfect get-up to record a small tiktok or two to satisfy your boredom as you waited for your boyfriend to finish getting ready himself.

as you scrolled through your saved audios, you stood by the humble expanse of wall where sakusa had some of his volleyball medals and trinkets displayed in your shared apartment. then it hit you: this would be the perfect opportunity for that soft launch you were thinking about.

he didn't even have to be there, you could just have his framed "sakusa 15" jersey and recognitions with his name on it in the background as you sang along to a song. it was simple. a little ostentatious? maybe. but you thought it was subtle and fun enough to entertain the people who followed you and were going to see it.

so you picked an audio and started recording. your accessories for going out that night glimmered with the gold medals on the wall in the dim lights of the apartment as you lip-synced to the lyrics, showing off your outfit with a slightly sly attitude of making claim to your relationship with sakusa–claim to what rightfully was yours.

but just as the timer on your video was up, you hear sakusa’s voice approaching from down the hallway, his watch clattering as he's trying to put it on, "what are you doing?"

you break out into a sheepish smile as you rush over to end the video timer manually, "nothing! let's head out!"

in the car on the way to the event, you posted the video and thought nothing about it. no tags, no caption, no nothing–just something cheeky for your friends and family to see and hopefully get a small kick out of.

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

late the next morning after you wake up, you stretch over to your bedside table to grab your phone to do a first-thing-in-the-morning doom scroll. sakusa's still peacefully snoozing away–head tucked under your jaw, soft breaths fanning your neck, arm secured around your waist, and legs tangled with yours under the sheets–when you open up one of your socials and realize you've gained thousands of followers overnight... literally.

you swipe past notifications of your friends texting you dozens of messages to see that hundreds of comments have flooded the most recent post you made–pictures of you and those same friends on a day out in the city–no sakusa in sight yet a lot of the new comments gave mention to him.

almost thinking you're still asleep and dreaming, you scroll through the words total strangers have left for you. it was such a mixed bag: some were mean, some were just confused, and some were even very nice, complementing you on your appearance.

there were a few, however, that mentioned a certain "repost".

"here from the repost"

"RAN to see this after seeing the repost"

"it's been less than a day and there's already so many comments about the repost lol"

and so you go to look up your name with the word "repost" attached to it, and are met with dozens of articles about your "viral tiktok reposted by msby's sakusa kiyoomi seemingly hints at volleyball star's secret relationship".

shocked, but still trying not wake up said volleyball star with your reaction as he clung to you on your shared bed, you quickly switch over to your tiktok to look back at the video you had posted just the night before.

surely enough as you let the video play out, the buttons on the right-hand side of your phone screen displayed astronomically larger numbers than that you've ever seen something you've posted in your life track before.

as the video plays the moment sakusa had called out to you–with you smiling to somewhere off camera before getting up close to the camera and cutting off the recording–you look down lower on the screen and see “msby sakusa reposted”. his official account. (you knew this bc he had you help him set up his personal one, the name of which you set up to come up as simply his nickname amongst friends "omi" with the cleaning sponge and bubbles emoji.)

hearing the audio of the video, you can feel sakusa stir at your side, his brows furrow against your skin as he peeks out from under his messy bedhead of curls to look at what you could be watching so soon after waking up.

after processing it was a video of you, one of his hands wordlessly part from where it was snaked around your waist and reaches up to tap on the little heart icon on the side of your screen.

then his hand returns to where it was, and he retreats back to the space between your collarbone and your jaw, hoping to quickly be lulled back to sleep just for a bit more before you two would have to get up and get on with your day.

but after a brief moment, you can suddenly feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, groggy and sloughed down by drowsiness to a deep treble as he lazily mumbled, “oh... that was your phone. was wondering why it wasn’t liked yet. i could've sworn i did already...”

his words set loose butterflies in your stomach, knowing despite his limited time spent online, he still does everything to let you know he loves you, even if it takes making a small heart icon light up on a video you post. but soon that warm feeling goes away, as your concern quickly overcomes it given the current situation at hand.

“omi," you coo, an attempt to not let on in your voice how you were slightly freaking out as to not disturb his peaceful state, "did you repost it? my video?”

“of course i did,” he replied in a heartbeat. you could feel his breathing start to slow down, him on the brink of slipping back into continuing his slumber.

you also felt he didn't quite realize the implications of what he did.

“you looked nice in it,” you hear him drawl out, after being met with your contemplative silence.

you hummed as you asked a follow up question, “did you do it with your personal account?”

“mhmm,” he sounds so content when he hums back in reply, bliss apparent as he spoke being tangled up with you as sunlight peeked in through the bedroom windows.

one of your hands paused the tiktok from playing and departed from where it clutched your phone to comb through sakusa's hair–partly to calm your nerves and partly in adoration at the realization he was so eager to show you his affection, that he didn’t check which account he was on before he reposted your video.

you tried your best to say your next words carefully and gently, “well i don’t think you did, babe."

"hm?"

trying to act nonchalant about it, you continue, "i gained, like, a thousand followers while we were sleeping.”

"hm?!!"

you no longer feel his curls under your fingertips as he retreats from his little hiding spot, now confronting your phone screen where surely enough, he caught a glimpse of the numbers your video was doing, as well as the little tag that, yes, it does look like he reposted your video using his official msby account.

he was wide awake now as one of his hands go to rake through his locks, and he starts rambling despite how his voice definitely wasn't caught up from his sleep yet, “y/n, angel, i'm so sorry. i didn't even check, i should've. i should've been more careful. now everyone know's about it, and it's all my fault. is anyone being mean to you about it? i can say something, or post something, right now, or—“

you cut his running mouth off with a kiss, dropping your phone in your lap to cup the sides of his face before you pull away.

"you're not... you're not mad at me?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours nervously.

a moment ago you were feeling a little more than uneasy at the thought that you weren't going to be just an ordinary person anymore. but now, seeing how much sakusa cared and doted over you, you realize you'll be fine. because you won't be dealing with it alone. you had someone extraordinary to be by your side each step of the way.

“no, omi. i'm not mad," you tell him through a warm smile, "at least we don't have to hide it anymore."

you feel him slightly nod in your hands, still on edge as he intently listens and hangs onto your every word. you could never get mad at that face. you can't resist the urge to brush your nose against his because of how cute you thought your boyfriend was.

"and besides, it still wasn’t a hard launch. we don't have to confirm anything just yet. so by social media rules... i can still post some more soft launches before we do that, no?" you say with a hint of mischief in your tone, making sakusa break out into a smile as he chuckles and places his hands over yours at the sides of his face.

"y'know what we always say," you continue with a more genuine voice, barely above a whisper, "we won’t let them get to us. we don't owe them anything–let them figure it out. what’s done is done, so let’s just have fun with it, okay?”

you're blessed with the sight of sakusa's dimpled smile growing even wider and before you know it he's all over you, on top of you smothering you with kisses, making you laugh as you try to pry him off of you.

he finally pauses to hover over you, his eyes with the slightest creases at their corners because of how he was smiling down at you, “thanks for bearing with me. not just my social media incompetence, but–for dealing with my… everything, i guess. i love you.”

the sheets ruffle around you as you gingergly wrap your arms up and around his neck, “i love you too omi. always will.”

you reach to grab your phone, buried somewhere in the blanket draped over the two of you, and sakusa rolls off of you as he finds it first and hands it to you. now it was your turn to ramble on, “how about we do the one where you stand behind me and hold the phone really high? or the one where you pick me up and spin me around in a random parking lot? or maybe i should make a video wearing your jersey–? oh my god that'd be diabolical, don't you think omi?"

he laughs into your shoulder at your eagerness as you spend the rest of the morning scrolling through soft launch videos online that you can save to copy later.

“i’ll do anything," he tells you, "i want to show you off–because now i can properly do it the way you've always deserved, love.”

       ⇩  ⇩  ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::

a few weeks (and a few more soft-launch tiktoks you both had fun with) later, although you and sakusa never publicly confirmed anything yet, his fans practically accepted that you and him were an item.

you even had the pleasure of seeing some fan-made edits of you come across your feed and appreciatively dropping a few likes on them yourself. but there was one in particular when you peeked into the comments of the video.

the original poster had commented on their own edit: "GUYS SAKUSA GAVE MY EDIT A LIKE WTF???"

you laughed out loud at the comment, considering as how your dear and darling boyfriend had never mentioned his apparent viewing and liking of these edits of you online as of late.

your boyfriend may have learned his lesson about public reposts, but it looks like his attempts at covering up what he hits "like" on needed a bit of work, too.

[ktaerssoi]

blabber mouth

summary: the multiple times you were caught having an interaction a little more than friendly with paige.

paige bueckers x fem!reader

(582)

notes: not proof read sorryyyy. also sorry for disappearing for the past three days i was preoccupied. anyway i actually like this i hope im not wrong. i keep watching this one caitlin clark edit someone save me she is so fine. - kate

1.

you had been known to the fans of UConn women's basketball, usually hanging out with the girls. you had met them through azzi, the both of you majoring in communications, and eventually, you had been indoctrinated into the team. you had grown close to many of the girls, befriending everyone. and maybe even going on a few dates with a special girl you had the privilege of meeting.

that being said, it wasn't common for you to be seen in tiktoks or lives. that's why fans went borderline insane when they saw you leaning your head on paige's shoulder in the background of one of ice's lives.

rumors of you being in a relationship were swarming the internet, fans trying to find even more "proof" of you together. they had been right, you were dating, but no one else needed to know that.

that's why you posted a video on paige's tiktok making a disclaimer that you guys were "just friends." however, the fans had gotten a taste of you two together, and weren't about to stop the edits or comments.

2. 

being a secret girlfriend to UConn's star player wasn't easy, you needed to go to all of the games to make paige happy, but you also couldn't be too public about your relationship.

you had thought you were doing a pretty good job, you sat directly across from the home bench and cheered when acceptable. you had been recognized more and more often now as you had officially posted with the team and were with them almost all the time.

your phone was blowing up with follow requests and tagging notifications, and your newfound fans wanting to get to know you outside of the girls. checking through notifications one day, you saw you had been tagged an abundant amount of times on one post.

clicking on the video, it starts to play a lovey-dovey edit audio as you watch clips of you a paige at the games. her pointing to you in the stands, you cheering as she shoots a three, and her hugging you after a game were all clips included in the edit. 

needless to say, that was not the last of those edits.

3. 

you and paige had been going on date nights frequently throughout your almost year-long relationship. along the way you guys had gained a bit of a following on social media, being spotted almost everywhere it was difficult to just be a couple in public.

you and paige had finally had a good amount of time where the both of you were open and could do anything, deciding you would go to a nice little restaurant near by your shared apartment.

you had been laughing about some funny story paige had been telling about her day when a fan came up to your table. "wait, oh my gosh, no way, ohmygosh, you're paige bueckers! and you're her girlfriend!" you had gotten flustered at the correct assumption, not wanting to deny it but knowing you would have to denounce it to protect paige's future.

"oh um," you were cut off by paige grabbing your hand, giving you a look before turning to the girl. "that's me, do you want a picture? i have some time."

you smile as you watch her pose for the photo, what you hadn't realized was that you were visible in the background admiring her like she was the sun.

the fans had a field day with that single photo.

[herecirmsims]

Endless Summer Collab: Tree Climbers

Hey! I'm SO excited to kick off the week-long Endless Summer collab between myself and some truly amazing posemakers! For the next seven days, there'll be a daily, summer-themed posepack from each of the following participants:

Day 1: Herecirm (Instagram | Twitter | Tumblr | Patreon) Day 2: @irislightsims (YouTube | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram) Day 3: @simmireen (Instagram | Twitter | Tumblr | Patreon) Day 4: @whimsyalien (Twitter | Tumblr | Patreon) Day 5: @theserenadeofshadows (Instagram | Tumblr) Day 6: @surely-sims (Twitter | Patreon | Tumblr) Day 7 (our host!): @simmerianne93 (Twitter | Instagram | Tumblr | Patreon)

Make sure to follow them so you can collect all 7 packs (and if you're not familiar with their work already... do check it out!!).

Today's gift is a pack of 10 paired poses for 2 kids and a cherry tree, all-in-ones included. Place both teleporters in the centre of the tree, facing forward.

Photo-taking tip: the cherry tree will vanish if the camera is too close. In case you don't already know this trick, you can save camera angles while in tab mode: zoom in, enter tab mode, and hit ctrl+(enter number here). I usually use ctrl+5 or ctrl+6. Now you can leave tab mode, zoom out so that the tree reappears, enter tab mode, and hit the number you just saved - the camera will take you straight there. It saves you having to tediously zoom back in after entering tab!

You will need:- Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - the upright cherry tree (base game)

Not required, but I find the Buckley Camera Mod useful for those low angle shots!

Download (always free!): SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery, since this Patreon page has only existed since posepack 100. Have a request or want to make a commission? Details here!

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I’d love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. Have a request or want to make a commission? Details here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc ❤️

[eupheme]

All I think of reading your logan/reader/wade fics is Jesse's Girl 🤣 bro is so in love with Wade's gf , a little jealous, a little obsessive, and then suddenly he's like "🤔 Wade's kinda cute too". If you had any inspiration for a little angst maybe a little separate drabble of jealous Logan and the reader just teasing the absolute shit out of him for it?

ahh anon love that song and yesss it would be so perfect for logan trying to sort out his feelings! 💖 I did a little drabble for you - a logan pov as he watches you and Wade and tried to figure out if he’s feeling jealous or left out or turned on, haha 💕 thanks for sending this in!!

ours | logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

450 words | poly relationship, jealous!logan, flirting, light angst, implied smut

He doesn’t have a name for this feeling that’s settled deep in his chest. Pricking at him - not an ache, but an undercurrent of something like annoyance.

It’s not like before. Those years ago, that sharp stab between his lungs when he saw Scott and Jean together. Years spent pining, if he was the sort of man to feel that kind of way.

Envious. Poison in his veins, the way he’d look for an opportunity to see if she’d change her mind.

Now, he’s somewhere in-between. His eyes drifting from the television - the movie he was watching ending some time ago. Switching to one of Wade’s weird shows, some shit about people finding love in pods. Flicking to the kitchen, instead.

You’re making something - vanilla and sugar lingers in the apartment. Wade’s arms wrapped around your waist. Pulling laughter from you so easily, with the way he whispers in your ear.

A smear of icing on your cheek that he put there himself, only to lick away as you try to wriggle from his grip.

Logan’s jaw grits.

Caught in a limbo. Craving touch, yet shielding away when it’s offered. Still fucked up over everything. Certain he doesn’t deserve the way you both beam at him - that he’s better off here. Separate.

Jealous. Unable to look away. Should be him over there. With you. Both of you, and that feeling inside him twists again.

He gets caught staring, brow furrowed.

“You want some, Logan?” You wiggle a spoon at him, “Saved some for you.”

“Nah. You two seem fine without me,” It comes out clipped, and your eyebrows raise.

A sideways look at Wade, who smirks.

“Picked the wrong color for your suit, pookie.” He chuckles, “Green would’ve been better.”

He scowls, as you untwine from Wade’s grasp. Crossing the room, Logan’s shifting as you climb onto his lap, straddling him. Fixing him with a look, as his own avert.

“Is that right? You feeling left out, Lo?” You coo - fingers touching his jaw.

His eyes return, reluctantly. The silence is almost an answer, with the way his lips press together.

“You know we were talking about licking icing off your abs, right?”

That has him blinking. Lips parting, “What?”

“She said abs. I said dick,” Wade chimes in, “Just to clarify.”

Your eyes roll, “The point is, whatever’s going on in here-”

Fingers tap against his temple, as you smile, “Doesn’t mean it’s real, okay? And in the mean time, we’ll keep flirting with you until you get it.”

He frowns, “Get what?”

Your head dips, so that your lips can press against his. His fingers tighten on your waist - you taste like sugar, that prickle in his chest blooms into something sweet.

Right. He’ll get it, even if it takes a little while for you both to hammer it into his skull. It’s a little thicker with the adamantium, after all.

Always had been a fool when it came to love.