#but secondly.... how did i not know this was your blog
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roseamoungstthethorns · 9 hours ago
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1. Disabled people should have every right to all the options able people have. Telling us to choose a different store is rude and dehumanising.
2. My town littreally only has 1 store. It is self check out
3. In my general area there are a lot of stores that are self checknout only. Including stores like ikea. So anytime I want to shop at ikea for something I need I have to bring someone along to help me. Before ikea did this I could shop there on my own. Imagine being a grown adult and only able to shop when you have aid because the store is too cheap to have even just 1 attened register.
4. I am preaching about disability as that is one of the things I do on this blog. I am disabled and I am bringing to light many issues disabled people face. Your inability to listen to a disabled person shows you don't care. I have no idea of your disability status but disabled people can still be ablist. Either way you are being ablest.
5. The world is not America. [Yes I used an example from when I was at walmart in Florida but I'm not in America. This is a global issues not an American one. When the security guard helped me check out at the walmart with only self checkout I first didn't know it was only self checkout and secondly it was the only store avaible to me at that time]
But to go into the ada point if we must only focus on america
Guess what! The usa is very bad at following ada compliance! And even if they did I'm sorry those rules are still.not accessible to everyone. Sure it'd be helpful if more self checkouts follow those rules, but some of us are still going to need a cashier.
Not to mention there is usually only 1 accessible kiosk and half the time it's closed off (ikea looking at you especially. I still need help with the ikea accessible one, but i need less help with that one)
6. No you didn't adress the cash issue if there is no manned register there is no way to pay in cash
7. I promise you I am not entitled I am asking everyone to include disabled people in the world and for us to have same access to things as able people.
You have no idea how much of a struggle my life is. It gets worse and worse because the world is becoming more and more ablist. Self checkouts is just one out of many issues.
I promise you I'm always super nice to staff and they actually enjoy when I come to the store. I never ask for any help I don't really need. I avoid buying from the top shelves as much as possible because I feel bad having to ask an employee come to the isle to hand it to me, but sometimes the only option is the top shelf.
Like I said originally all staff should be treated with respect, but it goes both ways
It's been a bit since I posted but I saw this on Facebook. And it struck a nerve considering the page that posted it.
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This was my answer:
Funny almost every single person agreeing with this are boomers. One person said this is so the customer has to put up with more crap in the store. Oh, but it's OK for cashiers to put up with your crap cause you're too lazy to walk down 10 ft to the next open register? "There's no open registers anywhere! Forcing me to work for you, wHeRe'S mY w-2?!" There's a register here, here, and there. But you complain because the closest ones to your car are self-checkouts. So you use them then hold the poor host hostage to your verbal abuse or force them to act as a cashier for you, drawing their attention away from other customers who may legitimately their assistance for more than just scanning their items for some fat lazy ass who starts huffing at the simple action of bagging their own shit. So yeah when Walmart sees that more transactions are going through their self-checkouts than actual registers, Walmart doesn't see the purpose in maintaining unused registers and replaces them with more self-checkouts. You want stores to keep cash registers? Treat your cashiers with respect so that they won't fucking rage quit because some Karen with an expired coupon they printed off their computer three months ago decided to call corporate and complain about them for the 5th time that week. If you can't treat cashiers as people don't get mad when you can't find them working their jobs. Or shop from Amazon and fuck off.
- Sincerely all retail workers.
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fightwing · 2 years ago
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“When I say I love you, it’s not because I want you, or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are. What you do. How you try.“/ from kory @cybervigilante 💗 / (ask meme)
dick's thoughts scramble for a second. it's like being thrown off script, like scratching the record tape, like playing a song backwards --- he has no idea what to say to that. more importantly, what he FEELS about that. dick's always prided himself on his resourcefulness. that when someone needed him, or needed anybody, that he could be there, fighting the good fight. he'd found love to be synonymous with effort and sometimes it felt like all dick did was TRY, TRY, TRY. only to reach the false summit and try again. kori was different. she didn't WANT too much from him. didn't need it anyways and yet still, impossibly, incredibly and without strings, judgment or disappointment. it was too much sometimes, enough dick didn't know what to do with it or how to reciprocate properly . and miracle of all miracles is that kori UNDERSTOOD. seemed to get him in a way even he didn't. that's what made this all so hard. there were tears that stung his eyes but he'd never been afraid of that. not with her. not like this. instead he rose a hand to her cheek, cradling the soft skin there and dipping his head like they were the only ones present in this moment in time. that they could stay like that and time would freeze for them. -- but there was a shadow hanging over his head. bruce was dead and gotham was descending into a kind of chaos NIGHTWING could never reign in. no matter what choice he made it would be the wrong one. he'd make a horrible batman. for himself, for tim and damian, for GOTHAM. but not taking it was getting people killed, promoting imitators who were destroying the legacy bruce DIED to protect. so either he failed to make the choice or he'd fail under the weight of it and the only thing grounding him back to earth in that moment was kori. he had to try. he would always try. "and if i'm wrong? if i make the wrong choice, if i---if i fail?"
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ducktoonsfanart · 3 months ago
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WARNING!
I ask that in the future no one asks me for donations and helping civilians, not because I don't want to, but unfortunately I am not able to help others or send donations. I really get spammed on this blog, and this blog is for art, not donations. Let's face it, I'm on the side of Palestinian children and civilians who are not terrorists and are experiencing an accident and are experiencing genocide and it's really horrible what's happening right now in Gaza or in Palestine. But really don't ask me about such things in the future, and don't spam me with these messages. I'm in solidarity with you, but don't be pushy and boring, if you need to, leave your messages on my main blog here: https://ducklooney.tumblr.com/
And I will leave them here without deleting them, so whoever wants to send a message to others and share further, so whoever can send donations. The only thing I can do is to pray to God to stop such atrocities. Nothing more unfortunately. And I know how it is, but I also know that when I was a little boy, I also lived through the horrors of war and bombings, but unfortunately we did not receive any foreign donations nor did we disturb others about it.
Please don't send me those messages in the future, I'll just delete it, put it on my main blog, because this is my side blog and the main blog for my art. By the way, if you're interested, here's my drawing in support of the Palestinians: https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/753481172031586304/donald-duck-daisy-duck-and-drake-mallard-with
I ask for your understanding and that you understand me. Because I just don't like my blog to be flooded with donation messages all the time. ONCE AGAIN I HAVE NO MONEY FOR DONATIONS. BUT I WILL SUPPORT YOU! JUST DON'T BE BORING PLEASE! LET THE WAR STOP ASAP! SORRY! FREE PALESTINE!
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averlym · 1 year ago
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whshdfhfjf.,,,
#close up!! because i firstly Did Not render them with such insanity in order for tumblr's lack of general resolution to make it blur#look at all the lines!!! teehee i still really really like this style of digital painting it's super super fun to do!!! and also secondly#because i went back and added a tag ramble and as i seem to often be doing??? lately?? reached the 30 tag limit and went 'hm ok how else..'#anyway the tag essay on that one is now up and talks about the artwork generally and miscellaneous thoughts!! that said. i need a space to#ramble about beatrix at Length because look you don't draw and paint etc a character for like ten hours without having a lot of thoughts#anyways ! i digress terrifically. tag rambles are more like trains of thoughts masquerading as subways and you get on and it's unfortunately#a rollercoaster track. but this is My Blog and i can do Whatever I Want as long as i don't hurt anyone <- affirmations!! also Harm Principle#lately it's been like *kicks up feet* *opens tumblr tags* *treats it as own personal journal* and tbh Good for me!! anyways back to beatrix#fun fact ! the thing that pushed me over the edge to go watch the musical after looking through the tumblr tag was a very specific poll.#and the fact that the winning option was blue hair and pronouns made me double over laughing so hard i had to go see the source material#mm i feel like lately the academic Context has been tossing me essentially into a blender HAHA ;-; so everyone in adamandi is to some extent#a Mood. but bea-specific (haha be specific)(sorry!)(wow this is the same reaction mechanism of my friend who points out innuendos)(...)#i think it's the wanting to prove herself. like from the whole abuela etc thing there's proof here she's got a Stable Support System of sort#and instead what beatrix continues to do is push themselves. 'i guess u could say i'm married to my work? god that's depressing' // no one#here to enforce that // abuela tells me to rest says i'm constantly stressed and i'll just get depressed like before but i still have to try#like. that shred of desperation that pushes you to the brink to neglect yourself (well i guess physically but also your morals..) and like!!#the whole 'lose half your soul thing' proves she's self aware!! like they know what they're doing is super dubious yknow! but they're still#they're still doing it even if it goes into conflict with their morality system in a way and then they justify it to themselves (see pt 1#of ghostwriter) and the whole wanting to achieve at all costs Despite the self awareness. (i think? this aspect also applied to quincy. but#thoughts on him will come later). more beatrix specific also is the fact that they genuinely adore their work.. 'i just love it here where#you know they'll be printing forever and you are just part of it' because that does kind of resonate with me. also the being behind in the#competition is real!!! i'm maybe talking about Art as a subject because that same drive for it exists on my good days i think. even#even when nothing seems to be going right and you've ended up at the back the intent passion inherent in what you do is still there!!!#the genuine. care she has for reporting. is so !!!!! to me... other beatrix thoughts include 'why reveal yourself at the end' aka vincent's#'u should have stayed silent u had a smart plan' like rip to them but i would not // it feels with bea's complex character i can't imagine h#her Not doing that. like the guilt is real i guess. and i am running out of tags but! smth also about her fervent hope or smth that she'll#eventually get to where she wants. and the resilient determination.. 'i won't let their deaths be pointless there's more good i'm gonna do'#they're so so real for that. i'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing; seeing myself reflected in aspects of characters like this.. but it's#it's there regardless. smth smth just make your peace with the person you are ig!! tldr beatrix campbell my beloved. hehe#adamandi
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klemen-tine · 2 months ago
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Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)
Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI
TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.
In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.
In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link
@Rosecentury 
@Problematicreblogger
@Kurai-hono-blog 
@Lunaluz432
@testishere
Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model. 
Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close. 
E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact. 
“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.” 
The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.” 
“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?” 
“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-” 
“All of them.” 
“...what?” 
“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.” 
“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-” 
“Let's leave tonight.” 
“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.” 
“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 
“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story. 
The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief. 
Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee. 
“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.” 
“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”
“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?” 
Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?” 
“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different. 
Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more. 
+++
She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card. 
Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money? 
A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. 
“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 
“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.” 
“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin. 
Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.” 
Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?” 
“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”
“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though. 
“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones? 
“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.” 
“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.” 
Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.  
“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer. 
“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 
“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch. 
“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery. 
“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry! 
“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 
“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!” 
“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.” 
Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret. 
Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark. 
“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot. 
Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace. 
“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone. 
When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this  stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot. 
Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.” 
“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up. 
“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…” 
“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.” 
Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—” 
“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek.  Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling. 
He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified. 
Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children. 
“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her. 
“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.” 
“And what about you?” 
“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.” 
Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.
“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass. 
It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual. 
Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 
++++
It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman. 
However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that. 
Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing. 
They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time. 
They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for. 
When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye. 
Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one. 
Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?” 
Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed. 
He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him. 
In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles. 
Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones. 
“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser. 
Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience. 
Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne. 
After that, Y/N always drank in her room. 
The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).
This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty. 
Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could. 
“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.” 
“I’m an adult.” 
“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched. 
He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer),  but that could have gone bad in so many ways. 
“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. 
Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity. 
‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him. 
Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it. 
Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality. 
They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love. 
“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair. 
“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror. 
“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…” 
“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.” 
Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.
Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him. 
Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim. 
He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow. 
“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave. 
Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now. 
With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her. 
“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of. 
She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her. 
“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce. 
Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.” 
“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.” 
Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress. 
She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so. 
Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright. 
To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all. 
Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows. 
“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.” 
“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either. 
The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her. 
He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night. 
That they are the Wayne family. 
God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family. 
Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.” 
Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her. 
“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.” 
“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile. 
“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.” 
Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips. 
‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 
________________________________________________
Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.
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verstappen-cult · 8 months ago
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Hello!!! First of all, I'm obsessed with your blog secondly I wanted to request something with Charles in which one of his friends pranks him with aphrodisiac chocolates, and he and the reader eat some of them 🫣 and the rest is up to you honestly you can ignore this if you want
The first thing you notice when you leave the grocery bag on the kitchen is an opened chocolate box.
Charles should’ve known better than to leave it there knowing how much you like chocolate. And you know he wouldn’t mind, so, you take one.
“Lando! For fucks sake you are not listening to me!” Charles' voice comes from his bedroom and you can hear the frustration in it.
You take the chocolate box with you as you make your way over to him.
Charles is pacing around his room, hand on his hips as he keeps yelling at Lando, who just laughs at him.
“Why is Lando making fun of you?” You ask, making your presence known. Charles turns around just in time to see you taking another chocolate into your mouth.
“What are you doing?!” Charles takes two long strides toward you and takes the box away, throwing it in the trash.
“Hey, I was eating those!”
“Oh my God, don’t tell me Y/N ate the chocolates too.” You're pretty sure Lando’s trying not to laugh while also sounding a little bit worried.
“What do you think, genius?” Charles rubs his face, defeated.
“I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t think—well, if you think about it, it’s good because now you’ll finally make a mov—”
Charles hangs up before Lando has time to finish. He throws the phone on his bed, groaning.
“If you didn’t want me eating your chocolates you could’ve just said so.” You shrug, looking at the trash.
“It’s not that,” He looks up at you and for the first time you notice that he’s sweating, face flushed. “they were special chocolates.”
“Oh,” You try not to show the disappointment in your voice. “a girl gave them to you! I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, I just saw them and—”
“No, not that kind of special.” He’s quick to stop your mind from reeling with unwanted thoughts.
You tilt your head, not understanding what other kinds of special chocolates could be, when you feel a warmth wash over your body, and suddenly you feel like you’re wearing too many clothes.
“God, why is it so hot in here?” You take your sweater and sneakers off.
“What are you doing?” Charles sounds like he’s in pain. You see him take a few steps back, putting some distance between you two.
Charles’ hair is messy and he’s wearing that shirt you gifted him last Christmas. You never realized how good it looks on him before. Why didn’t you notice?
“I’m burning up,” You whine, grabbing your shirt to take it off. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bra before.”
“You need to go,” He rushes to grab your clothes, but you don’t move. “I’ll leave you a glass of water—just go to your room.”
“Charles, what the hell is happening?”
He sighs, letting his head fall forward. He needs to tell you. “Lando thought it would be fun to give me special chocolates,” He can’t say the words out loud, he just can’t. You still don’t understand, so he simply looks at you and then down. You follow his gaze only to find that there’s a bulge in his pants.
You choke on your own spit, realization crossing your mind.
The air feels thick with tension and the eye contact is so intense you feel something weird pooling in the pitch of your stomach. And then there are mouths crashing against each other and hands all over your body as you fall onto the bed.
Lando definitely doesn’t need to know that he did you and Charles a favor.
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cranberryjuice-posts · 9 months ago
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hiii want to say that i just met your blog and i obsessed with it!! i really love your writing. anddd i want to make a abby request, abby and reader are in college and abby is like super popular and when they start to date reader is called “abbys girl” all the time and get super flustered? i dont know if i express myself good, english is not my first language, sorry! hope u have a amazing day, xoxo <3
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- Abby’s girl -
Pairings - modern au! Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader
An - this is kinda bad I’m sorry 😭😭 I wasn’t really sure what plot to write but I still appreciate the request.
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Everybody was cheering. With only a minute left on the clock the Seattle wolves vrs the Jackson mustangs— one of the oldest lasting rivals on and off the court, were pushing one another around trying to keep Abby from making her shot.
The blonde dodged around trying to avoid the other team. Making it to the 3 point line she threw the ball. Going through the hoop the clock blared at the same time, the referees announced the wolves win making the home side scream with excitement.
Abby shouted happily, making eye contact with you she grinned. Making your way out of the stands was easier said then done.
Eventually getting to the locker room you walked towards Abby’s spot. One of her teammates walked past you taking a moment to say hi. “Shit It’s Abby’s girl, hey she’s just over there the girls are cheering for her”
You felt your face turn red, “oh thanks” with a smile you watched as she walked away before going towards the shouting. Being the girlfriend of the basketball team captain tended to help boost your own reputation. Most of them didn’t know your name only addressing you as ‘Abby’s girl’.
Was it your preferred way of being addressed… well no. But it wasn’t the end of the world, all it did really was embarrass you.
Setting your purse down by Abby’s duffel bag on the bench you watched as the girls other girls crowded around her, chanting Abby’s name while they all celebrated their big win which would now take them to state. You were and always will be Abby’s biggest supporter, no matter what you would never miss any of her games.
She instantly noticed your presence, breaking free abby quickly made her way to you. Grabbing you by the waist she pulled you into a messy kiss. It was full of adrenaline and not coordinated. Pulling back Abby kept her face close to yours. A few of the other girls on the team chuckled at the display making you blush. “Hey” abby flirted against your lips.
“Hi” You giggled “You did amazing out there.. I mean really I genuinely believe Your Gonna win this thing”
“And im Gonna do even better tonight” she continued her cocky streak, pressing your hips against hers.
You rolled your eyes finding her attempts at seduction funny. “Uh huh, I’m gonna wait for you outside ok” kissing her one more time you gasped as she grabbed your ass. You rolled your eyes as you pulled back, giving her a warning look as Abby remained on her high.
You sat down on a bench near by the exit. Pulling out your phone you started to scroll on Instagram, trying to decided what to make a post about. That and finding a new restaurant near by to take Abby to, just to celebrate her big win before she actually tried to get you pregnant.
“So your Abby’s girl huh?” A woman spoke. Looking up you were taken back by seeing Ellie Williams the Jackson mustangs team captain.
Confused you nodded “uh yeah..”
She just scoffed. “How the hell did she manage to pull you” standing up you grabbed your purse, Ellie knew you had been offended by what she said.
“First of all she didn’t pull anyone, how we got into a relationship was because she’s a good person and secondly” you looked her up and down “why are you even over here, your bus is on the other side of campus”
“Damn, I was just asking” she laughed crossing her arms “but seriously though Abby? Her being a good person, that’s total bullshit she’s anything but good, besides I can do anything she does”
“Except win a Game”
You could tell Ellie was starting to loose her patience. Why was she over by you, to hell if you knew. There was a tense silence between you both, before she could speak the back door opened.
Abby stood tall and strong as always only her former grin was replaced with a look of disgust. Getting up you walked over to her, kissing her cheek. “Williams”
“Anderson”
Both girls staring at each-other with a Look of hate, You had heard Time and time again the rivalry between the two schools and between their families. “Why are You over here, and better question why are you talking to my girl”
“Fuck dude nobody’s trying to fight Dina just forgot her bag inside I offered to come get it.” Ellie looked at one once again before gesturing her head to Abby. “Your Girl seems like a real catch, guess you got lucky”
“Guess i did” her response was harsh. At this point you were fed up with the conversation and dealing with Ellie. Grabbing Abby’s hand you pulled her away.
——
Sitting on Abby’s bed you laughed softly at watching her go on a rant. “And don’t get me started on Joel the sheer fucking audacity of that man! He punched my dad because he couldn’t help Ellie. I repeat he punched MY DAD— why are you laughing”
“Nothing Nothing its Just.. your really cute when you get mad” Abby flipped you off making you laugh once again. After a moment she sat down on the bed beside you, taking a calming breath she leaned over kissing you softly, slowly, sensually.. pulling back she gently squeezed your hand.
“What did I do to deserve you” she muttered.
“Not much but working out and getting buff and being blonde helped, you know the important shit” you gave her a charismatic smile
“Your not Funny”
“I’m hilarious”
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chuluoyi · 2 months ago
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notice
hii hii hello everyonee !!! 🥹
omg first of all, i’m so sorry for suddenly disappearing out of nowhere—my workload got so heavy since last month and the time for annual performance review is nearing so i’m pouring all my energy to work as of late😭 i really thought i’ll be gone just for a week or two but here we are, more than a month later🥲
and secondly, thank you so much for all the love during the time i’ve been away! :’) i haven’t been opening tumblr so when i did just now i’m overwhelmed with the notifs and lovely asks—i didn’t expect that you all are still hanging around my promptly deserted blog :’) i’m touched, really
a lot happened in the month i’ve been away aside from my snowballing work, of course🥹 (if you remember my post regarding a date i was going to—yeah, i’ve been meeting him regularly! uhmm, we’re certainly more than friends but not quite there yet🙂‍↕️) but along with the good things, many “lows” happened too—burnt out, fatigue, doubt of myself, some crying here and there, and of course, writer’s block too, and i know many of you want more fics but i wasn’t in the state of mind in which i can write :’) even until now, i don’t think i can write anything of substance anytime soon…
but still, thank you for still giving me a space here🥹 i’m grateful for 11k of you who still follow me here even when i’m away and still read or even reread my silly stories and ramblings. i can’t promise you all that i’ll be as active as before, but i’ll try to pop up every now and then—and maybe even write a little thing or two
there are a lot of asks and i’m sorry that i can’t answer you one by one :’) thank you for asking if i’m fine—i am! i’m still hanging in there!🥹 and really, thank you for waiting for me, for wishing me well and missing me 🤍 your kindness reached me and i’m grateful for all of you!
and oh, lastly, to those who sent hate asks or comments regarding how i write, all i can say is this: i’ve blocked you. go get a life and write your own fics. i won’t entertain you! 👋🏻
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odessa-2 · 6 months ago
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Show the entire video! After she lightly picks Sam, she does the sane with Meril and John. She obviously drinking and happy to see her friends. Or according to you married to all three of them in an secret marriage.
Firstly please learn how to spell, especially if you're a disgruntled twat anonymously polluting my inbox.
Secondly, the entire video was infact posted and I have reblogged it. The video is doing the rounds on the shipper blogs. No one is hiding anything. Everyone is free to interpret it as they choose to. Now I know this is a second punch in the guts for you. First big punch was seeing Sam at the funeral. May I suggest diaphragmic breathing. It helps regulate a shot to shit nervous system such as yours. I will also suggest that you stop being a glutton for punishment and face the music. Sam and Cait are more than friends babe.
Now for the record, I do see Cait hugging John Bell after she kisses Sam, this happened after John Bell interrupted their intimate moment. So what? It doesn't detract from the fact that Caitriona initiated affection with Sam, (who according to your filthy lot, loathes Sam) and then put her arms around Sam and initiated a kiss 😘. She did that by choice, she went to him and clung her arms around his neck like couples do. Now I'm very sorry if you are unaware that this is classic couple behaviour and if you've never had the pleasure to experience this in your sad little life. It would actually explain a lot.
Thirdly, there was no Maril hug (not Meril). I don't know what pipe you're smoking love but it's very obvious that you're in a panic and a bit of a tailspin because deep down you know the reality of the situation. I can feel some empathy for you.
In the meantime, sit on this, it may help snap you out of your brainwashed fog 🖕🖕
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inklessletter · 1 year ago
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Congratulations, first of all, for reaching the milestone 💐💐💐 you deserve every single follower, and then some. Your art is always so pretty and I love how you bring us along during your process.
Secondly, would you like to make art based on this fic of mine? I'm thinking right at the beginning, when Eddie falls to his knees on stage and he and Steve have their "moment".
Thank you for hosting this fanart party ❤️
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Steve tilts his head, and Eddie prepares for a kiss. He gets no lips, only tongue; Steve licks his mouth, from one corner to the other.
🎸🎸🎸
@2btheanswertothequestion
This one was SO MUCH FUN TO DO. I had trouble finding good references for the ambiance, but I love the result. Please, go read the fic, it's so good.
I know that I don't know many of the users that sent me requests a few weeks ago, but I've got a tiny story to tell about this one (I'm getting to know you little by little and I'm falling for every single one of you, you talented fuckers). They are the reason I am in Tumblr. It happens that I created an account many months ago, and didn't know how to use this, I just clicked "follow" to the tags and the blogs ST/Steddie related that posted fics and arts, and on my way to work, in the bus, I read the first chapter of a fanfic that made lose my stop (literally, I got late to the office that day).
Sad thing is the next time I opened the app, the fic was gone. I just remembered a few things and god knows that the search bar in this site works... well, works. Sometimes. I couldn't find it. I made it my personal goal to actually find this fic again, and this user, whose name I didn't catch because, again, I didn't know how to use Tumblr. This user pulled a full Cinderella on me, reading with intent every fic until the shoe fit. And I found it by mere coincidence, because they posted the third part, and I was like "WAIT IS THIS IT?". And it was it.
In the meanwhile, I actually completed my account, like you know, trying not to make it look like a bot (that I learned that it was a bad thing that could get me blocked), I put a profile picture, I made it decent, I learned how to use Tumblr (a bit). So, you see. This user, my beloved @2btheanswertothequestion is the one to blame that I actually stuck in this place. If you're wondering which one was the fic that got me so hooked up it was November Paramedic. (Here the AO3 link). Go read it, you're gonna love it.
(I'm kinda mad that they didn't asked me to draw the actual picture of the calendar, though. I have some ideas, I might draw it the future, because when I say that I hold this fic very close to my heart, I mean it.)
I really, really hope you like it, I worked hard on it and I did this with every bit of love stored in my heart ❤️❤️❤️
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sadesluvr · 6 months ago
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Sins of the Flesh —Epilogue.
The one where a religious housewife fights temptation with her gardener.
A/N: A part two as requested :) As a woc, let's pretend that your husband is white so you don't need to explain why your baby is another race entirely 😭
No warnings other than smut and mentions of body changes due to pregnancy. Minors/Ageless blogs DNI.
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PART ONE
“There’s my two precious girls! Daddy is gonna miss you, but just remember he’s out working hard for you. No need to put on dinner tonight, I’m going to be back late. Hopefully this time before bedtime…”
It had been four hours since you’d waved Hank away at the doorstep, just like you always did, long before there’d been a baby attached to your hip. Maia, your daughter, was six months old, time somehow slipping away from you already. Not only had the motherhood process developed so quickly, but you found that the strange passage of time was bleeding into the everyday. 7AM turned into 12PM which turned into 4PM and then 9PM - so forth and so on.
You’d put down Maia for a nap, and had just enjoyed a quiet lunch in the dining room, the infant just in an arm's reach inside one of her many Moses baskets. You would’ve spent it in the sunroom, enjoying the greens and vibrant colours of your garden with the patio doors open, but you couldn’t. For one, it was far too hot during the midday, and secondly (most importantly) you hadn’t been alone in that room for fifteen months.
As far as you were concerned, that room, the couch, specifically, was a bad omen, too much of a reminder of one of the cardinal sins you’d broken.
Naturally, you decided to get lost in a book, at least that was until the doorbell rang. Smoothing your skirt, you tried to prepare yourself as best you could, expecting a relative or member of the clergy. If only you’d been so lucky.
When you opened the door, it was a boy. JJ was just how you’d remembered him; tall, lanky with a bit of muscle, bright and blonde. Eyes widening, you found that your hands instinctively went to fiddle with the crucifix around your neck. You were afraid that you knew very well why he was here.
“Oh - Uh… JJ?” you stammered, shifting your weight. He raises a brow and gives you a once over before grinning - that damned smirk spreading over his lips.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already. Especially not after last time…”
Last time. Last time as in what? You’d only had sex once, and apparently that’d been enough to get you pregnant. The last time you’d truly seen JJ had been at the eighth month mark, where everything on you had been so swollen and sore that you were likely he’d never had found you attractive anyway. 
He’d been on a ‘break’ since then, with Hank deciding that your joint health was more important. You hadn’t had the heart - or energy - to tell him that it would’ve been handy to have someone in the house so close to your due date.
“No, I - I just didn’t know you were coming,” you stammered, clasping your hands in front of you.  “Hank didn’t tell me…”
JJ frowned, and ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, the act producing a ‘tutting’ sound. 
“Yeah, well your old man decided that today was a good time. Can I come in?”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement, with the boy barging past you to let himself into your home. It was exactly the same as he’d remembered it - rich, white and virtually pristine, with the large staircase, sockets,and other hazardous edges now baby proofed entirely. 
His boots slugged along the floors, dragging his body in the direction of the garden. If your husband were here, he would’ve known better than to go through the house at all.
“Please be quiet —“ you pleaded, following him carefully as he made his way towards the kitchen. You’d practically fought with Maia to go down, and there was no telling what she’d be like if she were woken up.
JJ shrugged, tossing a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’ll be like I was never here…” he said, his eyes darting around. It was as if he were a predator, looking for his prey. “You haven’t changed the layout either, have you?”
“No, I —“
Mid sentence, you swallowed a breath as JJ stopped, his body rooted to the ground as he stared down at the basket. By the way that his body gently swayed, it was as if he were trembling, or were tingling with anticipation. Either way, it was silly that you hadn’t expected him to ask you the following question.
“Is she mine?”
Of course she was. Hank was past the age of childbearing - virtually infertile - and your sinful affair with JJ had produced a daughter. You’d spent the past fifteen months, as you would the rest of your life, lying to him, to your family and eventually, to her. Although you’d eaten yourself up, practically spending your months in confession and helping out in the clergy in the hopes of saving yourself, it was all the more confusing that you got a sick joy from it all. 
Hank was a good enough man, and you couldn’t be more thankful for security, but he was stubborn. To think of it, that was what had led you into JJ’s arms in the first place.
“JJ -“  you whispered, walking up to the crib protectively. The pair of you stared at the girl below, and it didn’t take long for the blonde to react, sticking his hands out in front of him.
“Who am I kidding? Of course she is. She’s got my nose and everything!”
You knew that JJ knew. JJ had known too. He just wanted you to say it.
His jaw ticked, and he wiped his hands on his trousers.
“Can I hold her?”
You winced. 
“I only just got her down for a nap.”
“I’ll be gentle,” JJ said, once again ignoring your protests. His handling of her was undeniably clumsy, holding her the way a kid would do to a kitten, but there was intent in his touch. Protesting, you stuck your hands out to fix his positioning, but he pulled away.
“No, I need this. If you knew anything about my old man you’d agree.”
You weren’t trying to take her away.
You watched as JJ held the girl in his arms, her little body slightly lopsided from his cradling. She didn’t whine, nor awake, but her eyelids fluttered, clearly sensing a disturbance. Biting your lip, you prepared for a meltdown, but she just yawned, producing a small smile across her gummy cheeks.
“Is this why I haven’t been over?” JJ said, his voice breaking. 
“No, we just wanted to limit her exposure to new people, or she could get sick…Only our parents have seen her.”
He looked up at you, distrust flickering in his blue eyes before he angled his head back down to look at her.
“What’s her name?”
“Maia.”
“Suits her,” he hummed. “Maia Maybank…”
As if he’d flipped a switch, you huffed and took her off of him, placing her back into the cot before wiping your hands.
“She’s not a Maybank, JJ. Not in this household at least.” 
The tone of your voice told him that you weren’t joking. Giving his daughter a final look, he walked away from the cot and followed you to the doorway, careful only to raise his voice when he was at a safe distance.
“She is, and nothing’s gonna change that. Pray to Jesus all you want but this is my baby.”
“You have to be quiet, JJ,” you said frantically, as if there were cameras around your home. “I’m serious. No joking around about this. If Hank finds out we’ll be the laughing stock of the town. I’ve sinned once, and I won’t do it again.”
“Really?” JJ said, raising a brow before dropping his voice, giving you a once over. You’d gained weight; your face was rounder, waist a little bigger and your breasts had certainly filled out from breastfeeding, but it was all incredibly sexy. He’d planted his seed and given you both a child (all on the first try), and it was only natural to want to be close to you. Inside you, even.
“Not even after what we had?”
He ran his lithe fingers up your arms, and before you’d known it you were kissing, his lips tasting the same as before. It shocked you how quickly it all fell into place, this time with your back pressed against the wall, a leg up as JJ rutted into you. 
The jostling movement from your intertwined bodies caused a few photos to fall to the floor, namely one taken on your wedding day. You didn’t find it a coincidence that JJ stepped on it as he drilled his cock into your pussy, one hand holding onto your leg as the other groped your breasts.
“Fuck,” he groaned into your ear. “ ‘M not gonna last, baby…This body of yours…So fucking sexy…”
You could’ve cried from pleasure as he latched onto your sensitive nipple, his tongue swirling expertly around your bud as he worked you to your orgasm. The feeling was good, too good, but you knew from last time that you couldn’t become overindulgent. 
“JJ…Pull out - for me, okay?” you begged, staring into his eyes. His own were glazed over; pussydrunk from fucking you that he nodded, haphazardly pulling out to finish on your thighs.
He took a moment to catch this breath, messy blond locks falling into this face as he painted into your shoulder, placing lazy kisses on your neck.
“I won’t tell anyone,” he sighed. “But I’m not gonna sit on my ass and not find a way for me to be in her life.”
Logic would call you crazy, but you’d always been a believer. 
FIN.
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boreal-sea · 1 year ago
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Firstly: get dunk'd, transphobe.
Secondly, nice source, dipshit:
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I have to do everything, don't I?
Let's talk about this source before we even read this article, because it shows how poor your rhetorical analysis skills are - or how unwilling you are to practice those skills, or perhaps just how willing you are to ally yourself with racist, nationalist, far-right reactionaries if they also happen to be transphobic.
Wings Over Scotland is a far-right, nationalist, reactionary blog run by Scottish "video game journalist" Stuart Campbell. It is not an unbiased news website - it's some dude's personal blog, and he created it because he hated that mainstream news in Scotland wasn't spreading the far-right rhetoric he wished it would.
And this is what you used as a "source". Fucking laughable.
Now let's get into the actual blog post. I refuse to call it a "news article", because it's not. This one was written by a nobody named "Mar Vickers". At the bottom of the article, Stuart claims Mar has "extensive experience in equality law". I can't seem to find any indication Mar is some sort of lawyer or scholar; all I can find is a link to his twitter - sorry, I mean his "X":
https://twitter.com/mar2vickers
You can tell this is the same Mar based on the content of his tweets. He's also transphobic garbage, surprise surprise. He has a backup account on "gettr", because it seems like his twitter gets suspended frequently - which says a lot. Gettr is a clone of twitter that caters to right wingers who get suspended and banned on Twitter for constantly violating its hate speech policies. So. You know. Though these days, X is the safe-haven for far-right reactionaries, so honestly that's a red flag period.
As a summary: Mar doesn't understand surveys or their limits, he doesn't define what a "sex crime" is, he doesn't know what the Rorschach test is, and he's bad at math. He plays with numbers like he's some sort of population statistician, which he's not. He draws conclusions that are completely nonsense, because he's not asking the relevant questions.
Basically, he states that over the past few years, the ratio of trans women in jail for sex crimes to compared to the general population of trans woman is now higher than the ratio of cis men in jail for sex crimes compared to the general population of cis men. Ok, but why did these numbers change? He doesn't ask why. He just assumes these trends are natural and reflect the behavior of cis men and trans women, rather than the increased transphobia in England and Wales that he and his buddy Stuart have been fueling.
I absolutely don't doubt that trans women are incarcerated for "sex crimes" (which he never defines of course) at a higher rate per population than cis men. It's the same reason people of color are incarcerated more per population: bigotry. "Wow, this population of people who society hates sure gets sent to jail a lot. That's probably a reflection of their true nature, and not a reflection on society at large!"
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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago
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Forbidden - KNJ (18+)
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Pairing: Professor!Namjoon X Student!Fem reader
Theme: SMUT, PWP, Forbidden relationship au.
Summary: You know it's forbidden but you don't care, not when your professor is more than ready to ruin you.
Word count: 1813
Warnings: professor fucking a student, cumming on her ass, strong language, spanking, slut shaming, Joon hits it from behind, unprotected sex (it's a no no), domish Namjoon.
Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!
✨✨✨✨
Forbidden - “Not permitted or allowed” 
There is not a single part of the definition that you don’t understand -- Yet you can't help it.
All of your life you have been an exemplary kid. Be it academics, be it code of conduct, be it discipline, you have always excelled in everything. But you were never nosy about it. You kept yourself humble but quite reserved at the same time. You know well which lines cannot be crossed and which ones can, that too, when you should cross them. 
With a pair of big doe eyes and a heart full of enthusiasm, you stepped into this university. All set to achieve your dream degree. 
However, some of it changed when this one particular person walked into your life. 
“I clearly remember asking everyone to do their own parts even if it’s a group project. Didn’t I?” Kim Namjoon, your physics professor, says with his baritone voice. Hints of anger evident in his expression. 
“Yes, professor.” You and your project partners chant in unison. 
“But I got this feeling that two of you haven’t even written a single word.” Namjoon crosses his hands on his chest as he supports his weight on the table. Your eyes follow his every movement. The way his chest flexes against his tight turtleneck, it's illegal. You inhale sharply trying to shoo away the intrusive thoughts that are starting to cloud your mind. 
“No professor! We did as we were told” one of your partners almost shouts in her defense. You resist the urge of rolling your eyes. You know Namjoon is right, because you were the one to do the entire project. Park Sun Mi was way too busy with her baseball captain boyfriend and Lee Jae Min was way too high to come down and use that one left brain cell to do the project. You had no choice but to do the entire thing alone. You can’t afford to lose points because of your unworthy partners, even if that means giving them the scores they clearly don’t deserve. 
“Is that so? Then you should have no problem in appearing for a test based on the project in my office after your class hours.” their mouths fall open at Namjoon’s suggestion. 
“But professor-” Jaemin starts but Namjoon cuts him off,
“No ifs and buts. Report directly to me after your classes are over. Is that clear?” Namjoon says in a very authoritative tone. There is no room for any objection any more. Neither that you would ever object, you would rather spend an hour or two taking an unnecessary test in his presence than going home and resting. 
“Yes professor.” again you three answer in unison. 
“Leave” your professor orders. You are about to turn your heels when he orders again, “Y/N, I need to talk to you. You two leave.” You catch Sunmi rolling her eyes at you.
Your heart reacts faster than your mind. It starts to beat menacingly in an instant and you don't know how to act normal. You can’t really wrap your head around the fact that you are getting a piece of time to spend alone with the man of your dreams, your guilty pleasure, your forbidden desire, Kim Namjoon. You are so lost in your head that you didn’t even notice that Namjoon has been ogling your exposed legs. However, he soon composes himself and clears his voice to claim your attention.  
“Y/N… I didn’t expect that from you.” His voice is mixed with disappointment and anger, maybe? 
First of all, this is the first time in two semesters’ time, he has called you by your first name only, no suffix or prefix to burden the weight. Secondly, you don’t know why but, him being angry with you sends tingles down your spine. It definitely should not be like this. Had it been any other time, you would have probably sulked or cried your eyes out because you disappointed your mentors but…. This time it’s different. This time it's Namjoon. 
You don’t say anything in your defense. You know Namjoon understood that you did the entire project alone the very moment he read it, when it was supposed to be a “group” project. You are no better than your partners. You were on your way to give them free points for your own selfish needs. So, you hang your head low, avoiding his eyes. 
He marches towards where you are standing and comes to stand right in front of you. 
You curse at the proximity he has chosen to tease you with. 
“sorry, professor” you apologize with your small voice. 
“I think you are intelligent enough to know that your apology will not be enough, Y/N” he breathes out. The anger and disappointment in his voice are now gone, now those are replaced by something akin to darkness. 
“Professor, I-” You are immediately interrupted as Namjoon puts his index finger below your chin and tilts your face up to make you meet his eyes. Another round of shivers run down your spine as you perceive his siren eyes and the looming mischief in them. 
“Don’t you think you deserve some punishment?” Namjoon takes a step towards you as you take a step back. 
“You have been acting like a bad girl lately-” another step.
“-bad girls deserve punishment and I knows how to treat brats like you.” your ass comes into contact with the first row of desks. With blown out pupils you stare at your professor and try to comprehend the meaning behind his words. He, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying the way you are already submitting yourself to him. 
“Profe–” he cuts you off again, 
“Shhh– turn around” he orders and you comply without sparing a second thought. Your morals and rationality have feld through the open window long ago. 
You turn around and stand back-facing him. He places one of his giant hands on your shoulder and lowers your upper body down enough to perk your ass up. Your heart thumps as if it would burst out of your chest any given moment. Anticipation of what might happen in the very next moment, makes you leak. For a moment you think that you are dreaming. There is no way your daydreams are taking the shape of reality, you ain’t that lucky. But the next moment, you are proved wrong, when you feel Namjoon’s rough hands brushing right below your skirt’s hem. He bunches your skirt up and reveals the supple flesh of your perked ass. One of his palms creases down your butt through the thin material of your panty. He hooks two of his fingers on the hem of your underwear and pulls that down in an instant. 
And before you could accept the fact that you are now butt-naked in front of your hot professor, thinking of whom you hit your high every other night, a tight slap lands on your right ass. You yelp, eyes start stinging with tears right away. 
“For working on the entire project alone.” Namjoon groans.  
“Fuck” you curse out loud. 
Another slap lands at the same spot. “For concentrating more on my arms and thighs than the white board.” You gasp for air. 
Another slap. “For wearing these short skirts and driving me crazy.” 
Fuck, did you really drive him crazy? 
The last slap lands on the same spot. “For making me do something so forbidden.” 
You are drooling, both by mouth and cunt, by the end of the spanking session. Namjoon massages the fat of your ass as his other hand travels towards your cunt. He drags his slender fingers through your slit once and then parts your folds to gain access to your clit. You start to breathe heavily but stay still and let him do whatever he pleases. 
“Tell me to stop before I do something wrong, Y/N” his thick voice causes you to leak more. 
“No. don’t stop. I- I have wanted you, professor, for a long time now.” 
“You nasty little slut, do you think it’s okay to fancy your professor like this?” Namjoon says through his gritted teeth. All the while, his fingers probe into your cunt bringing a delicious friction and stretch with them.
“Fuck! So tight!” Namjoon exclaims. The more he discovers your tightness, the more his nails dig into your ass. 
You moan some incoherent curses and those arouse Namjoon even more. 
“You like it, don’t you? You like being corrupted? By the professor you desire? Hmm? A model student like you but so nasty inside?” He says with his husky voice. 
“Yes, professor. For you, only for yo-ah fuck” Your head starts to spin when he scissors his digits and stretch your walls even more. 
“For me? Yeah? Then do you want my cock?” he presses his thumb on your clit. 
“Yes. please.” you choke out, and that’s the confirmation Namjoon needed. He removes his hands from your body once for unbuckling his belt and setting his cock free. Once the deed is done, he slaps his thick meat on your ass. And fuck, you never knew you had so much of juice left inside of you cause you are leaking again. 
“Spread your legs.” he orders and you comply. 
He enters you bit by bit. At first it's just the tip and then he is half inside and then he is balls deep into you. The stretch is dreamy, far better than what you imagined and you want it all. 
“Should I move now?” His considerate voice makes your heart flutter and that’s a territory you don’t want to cross. You nod and he slams his hip into you. 
You arch your back. Namjoon wraps his hand on your waist to keep you in place as he starts thrusting into you mercilessly. 
The desk starts shaking violently but he doesn’t stop, neither do you want him to. You don’t even care if anyone is hearing you two doing things you definitely should not. With a vice-like thrust he hits your g-spot and your cream his cock without any warning. 
“Fuckfuckfuck” namjoon curses as he struggles to keep the pace. You know he is close as well. He pulls out his cock and cums all over your ass. His cum drips down the globe of your ass down your thighs and the scene alone makes him wanna fuck you again. However, he is a man of control. 
He let the beast out once and that should be enough. He knows you are a forbidden fruit and he should not touch you ever again. But the question is, can he contain himself? Especially when you turn around and seal your soft, sweet lips into a tempting kiss while both of you are still naked enough to start fucking again? Especially when you are so willing to be ruined by him and the bad boy in him roars to life. 
✨✨✨✨
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kravchikfreak · 14 days ago
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I'm sorry if this ask is coming out of nowhere, but I have been looking for posts that talk about how S2 has declined in quality and there have been virtually NONE. Even tags like 'arcane critical' or 'anti arcane' don't show up even though I know there are posts that are tagged with them. I'm losing my mind. Has nobody else noticed this downgrade? The ideas could have been good, but they were not executed well and the whole thing reads like they wrote it really quickly without any real editing and then rushed to get it out. It feels hollow, like we're seeing a botched or unfinished version of what it was supposed to be. What kind of random ass shit is it that an enforcer comes up to Vi and says, "cait said good things about you," and Vi is just like wow you're right, I'm sold! Even though she already knows Cait has a high opinion of her and that wasn't the issue in the first place! Also who was that random homeless man? Why am I supposed to care about these people? Fans get defensive about the pacing and argue that s1 did a lot in a minimal amount of time too, but I don't think they realize that pacing has to do with making something feel organic. Vi's heel turn into becoming an enforcer was not organic. Viktor's two second goodbye was not organic. Both of these things could have made sense if they'd given these moments even just a little more effort or care. There were so many unnecessary scenes that could have been cut out to give more time to things that desperately needed it (like caitlyn's sad wordless montage about her mom. Why did it drag out so long? Her grief is apparent in every other scene. We did not need an entire abstract slideshow of her making various sad expressions.) There's also the animation. The animation is leagues above a regularly animated show, but if you look closely it is actually not as good as s1. There is less detail, the lighting of the background doesn't always match the characters, and there are moments where the lips don't always sync with their voices. These are minor things that I wouldn't usually care about, but for a multi-million dollar show like Arcane? Riot games recently laid off a whole slew of its creative team, too, and I wonder if they've been making similar cuts before that. It would certainly explain the drop in quality. I wouldn't put it past corporate greed to nerf one of the most groundbreaking animated shows in modern media if they thought they could profit more by cutting corners.
I'm sorry to ramble in your inbox as a random stranger, but it boggles my mind that there are so few people mentioning s2's flaws (not including rage bait, which is annoying because it only delegitamizes real criticisms and discussions.) I feel like I'm screaming in the void like is nobody else seeing this shit??
well hello there! first of all, "arcane critical" is what i was looking for when i was writing that post. gonna put it in tags now before i forget
secondly, i love asks! so no need to apologize. thirdly it's a bummer you went under anonym, i don't believe you get notifs for your anonymous asks, so unless you actually hang out on my blog regularly there's a chance you won't see me appreciating your thoughts and agreeing with you (expect for the animation part, cause for me it was great, i have no questions on that regard. but for each their own. i'm a big fun of the dragon prince first season's animation and still sad they get rid of their 13fps style, so...)
anyway, i got bored at the beginning of my rumbling that time and didn't get into some deep analysis but yes, the first season also had events to go fast and forward, but at the same time they made sense. it wasn't rush or dragged, every scene had a meaning and weight
YES to the burial scene. like i get it, it was drawn pretty and it was sad and grey for cait but my god how many hours can we watch vi going away from 317 different angles? i was actually shocked to see her at cait's, cause after 10 minutes of her hiding in the crowd and leaving before cait saw her i was legit sure the show tried to tell us they broke up for now and won't see each other for a while
and it all feels so odd, as if on the one hand writers had too little allowed episodes to work with their ideas, like they came up with all these important story points but had no more screen time to add actual story development between the points, cause the season is like 10 episodes too short to fit a full coherent story. but on the other hand they have too much unused screen time, like they wrote only 5 episodes but they had to make 9 so now we will just fill the equivalent of 4 episodes of free time with mute repetitive long scenes
who the fuck is that mute lizard cop? is he actually mute? or there were no budget on one more voice actor? what's his problem? why he always looks like he's mad at everyone? should i even care he's always displeased? does he even matter? if no, why he has so much screen time and close-up shots? if yes, why he has no meaning or story or character or name? i swear to god, in the first season that one future-junkie dude had more of a meaning and weight in his two minutes scene than these lizard cop and the new jinx's sister during two episodes
and it all would've been fine, really, if it was the first season, or one of these already bad shows that you don't really expect much of. but arcane was a masterpiece, and also we've been waiting for it for three years. so it's the feeling that we know how GOOD it can be, and the feeling that it just chose not to
w....wait... what if they also tried to do great? and failed to do good in the process
or maybe, as you said, just some internal kitchen shit. i never actually follow media creation stuff and staff so maybe that's just it. still not make it all better for me as a viewer who was too excited to learn at 1 am that the act dropped and stayed up until 7am to make sure to watch it before getting to sleep
HEY THANK YOU for giving me opportunity to rumble about it again
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buckychristwrites · 1 year ago
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About You | Day 4 | j.t.
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Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader
Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Idk maybe its kinda fluffish. Cussing. Enemies to lovers
A/N: Let me know what you think! :)
Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog
It was admittedly difficult to sleep that night. Firstly, the couch was just not your choice of  a preferred sleeping spot. Secondly, it was weird having a person sleeping in your bed, especially a person who you didn’t sleep with, and especially especially since that person was Jamie Tartt. 
Which explains why you were up so early, two pans on the stove with breakfast. One with eggs, the other with potatoes frying up. On the counter was the bread, waiting patiently to be cooked in the toaster.
Movement in the bedroom told you that Jamie was awake. Turning from the pans, you threw two slices of bread into the toaster. By the time you had turned back, the door to the bedroom crept open and slow footsteps made their way down the hallway. Rubbing his eyes, Jamie appeared in the open living room. When you looked up at him, you found him still just in his boxers. The two of you stared at each other for a while with similar looks of surprise. You couldn’t say why he was in shock, but for you, it was because of the nakedness. 
“I woke up thinkin’ that I had the strangest dream,” He said slowly, looking around the room with squinted eyes. His back was facing you when he spoke again. “Guess it was not a dream.”
“Not a dream,” You said, scrunching your face. He flopped down on your couch, running his hands up and down his face.
“Drank too much,” He admitted. “My head is fuckin’ killin’ me.”
“Did your clothes evaporate overnight?” You asked him in an unusually high pitched voice. Though you weren’t looking at him, you could sense his eyes jump back towards you. 
“They’re still on the floor, thanks.”
“Well, thank God. I was worried, since you decided not to dress before coming out.” He was trying and failing to hide a smile.
“Fine, fine.” He sauntered back towards the bedroom, and against your better judgement, you looked up from the stove, letting your gaze fall up and down his backside before he disappeared down the hall. 
“We have to be out the door soon, so hurry up!” You called to him, receiving a groan in response. The toast popped out of the toaster suddenly, making you jump. You grabbed a plate and filled it with half the food, setting it down before doing the same with another. When Jamie re-entered the scene, this time fully clothed and with brushed hair, you handed him a plate. 
“Eat fast. I’ll drive us to work.” The sentence felt so weirdly domestic, and you wanted to hate it more than you did.
He nodded, taking a seat at the small dining table and digging in. You sat across from him and did the same. It was a silent meal, but comfortable, as if the two of you had been eating meals together for a long time. Before you knew it, the plates were empty. Jamie stood just as you were about to and grabbed your dish.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” You said, reaching to take them from him, but he waved you off. 
“Please.”
You said nothing more, instead rushing towards the bedroom so you could get ready. From the kitchen, you could hear water running and dishes clanking together, making you freeze. Is he doing the dishes? You finished getting dressed and quickly brushing your hair before walking back out. Jamie was just pulling the gloves off his hands as you came into view. Turning towards you, he looked you up and down, expressionless, before speaking. 
“You good?” He asked. You nodded, a surreal feeling washing over you.
How did your day start like this?
The two of you made your way down to the car park, where you climbed into the driver’s side. The rain was still modestly falling, although it was nowhere near the magnitude it had been the morning prior. Despite turning the car on, you made no move to leave, even after Jamie was in and secured. A few seconds passed before you felt his stare fall on you.
“I think we should start over,” You said, before turning your head to meet his gaze. “We’ve both done things, and continuing to fault the other for the past is counterproductive. I think we should go into today with a clean slate between us.” 
“Dunno,” He said as you came to a stop light. A moment of deja vu hit you as you turned to face him, reminding you of the evening before. When you met his eye, you found him smirking. “I kinda like bein’ mean to ya.” 
“Well, in that case…” You trailed off, the both of you laughing at the exchange. After a second, you tilted your head. “I’m not saying we have to be the best of friends who braid each other’s hair and share their deepest darkest secrets. But at least while I’m around for the next week, we can pretend.”
He lifted a finger at you before saying, “Or two.” You looked at him in confusion.
“Or two what?”
“Weeks.”
“Or two weeks,” You repeated back to him in agreement. 
But you didn’t think it was pretending, at least not for you. It was then that you realised that you were, indeed, starting to like Jamie Tartt as a person. Though he was still stubborn and arrogant, the night before had been a moment of clarity for you. He was just as broken as everyone else, despite his cool exterior. Inside, he was just a young boy, begging for validation and affirmation. But most importantly, he was begging for the love he didn’t receive from his father. Beyond that, the night before had you laughing the hardest that you had in a while. 
The car behind you honked, you cursing under your breath as you drove through the green light that you had, once again, missed.
“I think you’re right,” He finally said. A smile playing at your lips, you glanced over at him. “It’s hard bein’ angry that you’re here.” He paused, and it was then you noticed the water bottle in his lap, which was he messing with the lid of. “You…” A beat passed. “You didn’t turn out to be the villain I’d made you in me head all these years.” 
Something about that made your heart swell.
“You’re not as bad as I made you out to be, either.” You smiled with your face forward. And though you weren’t looking at him, you thought you caught a smile out of the corner of your eye.
“Although,” He added, his voice quiet. You eyed him, waiting patiently. He let out a slight laugh, rubbing his forehead. “You actually do know my deepest, darkest secrets now.” 
Something fluttered in your stomach.
The next thing either of you knew, you were putting the car in park. A few spaces over was Jamie’s car, patiently waiting for him. You pulled his keys out of your purse and handed them.
“I take it you'll need those.” 
He opened his mouth to say something, but immediately seemed to backtrack. You studied him. For a man who had been drinking so hard the night before, he seemed like he was in good spirits. Suddenly, he was jumping out of the car. 
“Can’t sit here all day, can we?”
You followed, having another moment of deja vu as the two of you walked in the club together. Despite having worked there for what you could assume was a while, the security guard still appeared overjoyed at the sight of Jamie, and forgot to check your pass. 
It seemed like the entire team was waiting for the pair of you, for once he, then you, entered, a chunk of them circled around like a pack of dogs.
“What happened last night?”
“Did you drive, Jamie? Is your car okay?”
“Did you sleep on the street?”
“Lads, lads, let’s calm down, yeah? A man is still nursin’ a hangover,'' Jamie pushed through them to get to his locker. Once he had broken from the pack, all eyes landed on you. The anxiety in your chest began to creep up.
“I drove him to his place. threw him in bed, and then I went back home, myself,” You explained to them. Over Dani’s shoulder, you could see Jamie look over at you. Holding his gaze for a moment, he nodded at you as if to thank you. You looked back at the others without giving any sort of reply. They all seemed to accept this explanation without further questioning. 
“We are just glad you got home safely,” Sam said, a wide smile that he gave to both you and Jamie. 
“Didn’t seem concerned when you sent the enemy after me, did ya?” Jamie asked, making the others roar out in laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh along with them as you could hear the playfulness in his tone. 
“We were just gonna let what God intended to happen, happen, bruv,” Isaac said to him. 
“Maybe God intended for her to go after you, Jamie!” Dani added. 
Jamie and you exchanged a look before quickly looking away. Your cheeks grew very hot. Jamie awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. 
With immaculate timing, the coaches entered in that moment, saving the both of you from having to come up with a response. You took your place against the wall, although now you allowed yourself to stand a bit closer to Jamie’s locker. 
As they spoke, you took notes. 
“Didya ever think that maybe you’d learn more if you listened than just writing down whatever they say?” Jamie whispered into your ear. His breath was warm against your skin. Ignoring that feeling, you shot him a glare. 
“I don’t need to know how to play football,” You reminded him, glancing at the coaches to make sure they weren’t privy to the two of you talking before going on. “So I don’t need to learn what all this means.” 
“Just tryna help ya sound smart for ya article.”
“Are you saying I sound stupid?”
“You could sound smarter…” 
“And who made you the expert on sounding smart?”
“Meself, obviously.”
“What are your qualifications, footballer?”
“Well-“
“I’m sorry, is this meetin’ interruptin’ you?” Roy’s voice boomed through the room, making the two of you jump.
“Sorry,” Jamie called out, raising his hand in apology. You lowered your head and furiously pretended to be writing notes innocently. Roy’s glare lingered for another few seconds before Beard continued talking. 
When everyone began to head towards the tunnel, you walked towards the entrance to the stands. 
“Oi.” You turned to see Jamie watching you. “Just come out with us. You can stand with the coaches.” When you opened your mouth to counter him, he waved his arm towards himself as a gesture to follow him. “It’ll be easier for you to take your wee notes. Let’s go.” Conceding, you followed him out onto the pitch. 
The rain had stopped, the sky still blanketed with clouds. The players started running their drills. You stood a few feet behind the coaches. Being on the pitch as opposed to the stands did make a difference. It was much easier to hear the coaches, and you could hear the players as well. 
“So,” A voice next to you said. You jumped, damn near throwing your notepad across the field before turning to find Beard next to you, standing in the same exact stance when he had been in front of you just moments before. “A truce was called, then?” After you remembered how to breathe, you nodded. 
“We talked it out, I think.” The two of you looked out in time to see Jamie fold over in laughter over something Isaac said. 
“I haven’t seen him in such high spirits since Ted left,” Beard admitted. The mention of the former head coach brought your thoughts to a screeching halt. You glanced at him for a brief second before turning back to Jamie.
“He hasn’t brought Lasso up at all to me.” 
Beard blew a raspberry, shaking his head. “He was really torn up about it. I don’t think he wanted anyone to know.” He was thoughtful as he continued to watch the footballer kick a ball into the net. “I think he viewed him as a father figure.” You thought back to the conversation from your car, where Jamie told you about his abusive father. The pain in his voice was so clear, along with the hesitation to tell you. 
“He told me a little about his dad,” You said quietly. 
“I’ve never witnessed such behaviour from a parent,” Beard admitted. “Disgusting.” This truly grabbed your attention, making you turn your entire body towards the coach.
“You saw it?” You asked. “You saw his father abuse him?” The expression on Beard’s face became a pained one, the memory clear as day on his face.
“It was at Wembley, when we played Man City,” He explained. “Pops came backstage, clearly sloshed. Wanted to bring his buddies through security to take pictures of the pitch. Jamie said no.” He began to shake his head. “Started calling his own son names, and getting in his face. We had lost, morale was low. Jamie clobbered him right in the nose.” At this, he looked proud. “He deserved more than that, but I’m glad he got what he did get.” 
You felt sick. The breakfast you had worked so hard to make was threatening to make a reappearance all over the rich green grass. 
When Jamie had told you about his dad, you had assumed it had happened a long time ago,  maybe as soon as when he had just started out. Never would you have ever thought that it was happening so recently that Coach Beard, or any of the current members of the team for that matter, would’ve been there to bear witness. 
No wonder your articles hurt him so much. It all made more sense now. He was getting abused two fold.
The second your eyes found Jamie, seeing his smile as he passed the ball to his teammates, you felt a surge of pride towards him. He was a huge jerk for a long time, following in the shadow of his father. But he learned, and he grew. Now he knew kindness and love. 
The transformation was quite magical.
The whistle blew and the players made their way towards the coaches. Jamie stood next to you, eyeing you curious.
“You alright?”
You turned to face him, and it felt like you were seeing him for the first time.
“I’m good.”
He stared at you for a long time, eyes searching your face, before nodding. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned to face the front again. You began taking notes again. It was hard to focus, with the newfound information fighting to be at the forefront of your mind. It felt strange, knowing something so intimate about Jamie that he hadn’t told you. Part of you wondered if you should tell him, but maybe that wasn’t for the best. You weren’t out of the woods yet when it came to your relationship with him, and it wasn’t best to rock the boat further. Maybe after the article you’d-
No. After the article, you’d be back to business as usual. There wouldn’t be any chances to talk to him about anything, really. You’d be off the pitch and back in your office. He’d continue to play football and be Jamie. And it would be like none of this ever happened.
Why the fuck is this making me so sad? You asked yourself.
Pulling you from your thoughts was Jamie bumping his hip against yours. You jumped slightly, before turning to look at him. His face was filled with amusement.
“Sorry, Jumpy,” He said with a voice filled with laughter. “I was thinkin’ we could have a chat after practice, if ya want.” You shook your head with more force than you intended.
“Yeah, that would be great!” There must’ve been something off about your tone, for he knitted his eyebrows together, his head tilting slightly.
“You sure you’re alright?” 
Inhaling slowly, you nodded again. This time with more ease.
“I’m fine, Tartt.” At first, he seemed shocked that you were back to calling him by his last name, but the smile you gave seemed to placate him, as he returned it almost as quick. 
When practice was over, and the field had been cleared out, it was just Jamie and yourself who remained. You sat in the grass, running your fingers across the even cut blades. Jamie was standing, and was moving around as if he wasn’t able to stop.
“Do you ever relax?” You asked him, your phone already set to record. He paused at this, raising his hands in question.
“I’m always relaxed.”
“That’s definitely not true.” He scoffed, but you continued. “What do you do to unwind?” This made him stop, genuine thought on his face.
“I dunno,” He admitted. “I like havin’ a pint with friends. Layin’ on me couch sometimes.” When his eyes found you again, he found your face scrunched up. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m gonna make that the headline,” You said as you raised your hands and wrote a line in the air in front of you. “‘Jamie Tart: He Also Drinks Beer and Lays On The Couch.’” He laughed.
“Fuck off.” Shaking your head, you looked around at the field.
“If you could talk to any deceased person for 30 seconds, who would it be and what would you say?”
The next words out of his mouth hit you like a train. In the most earnest voice, he said, “I’d talk to George Harrison, and tell him thank ya for inspirin’ me to live my life.”
The recording was instantly turned off, as it was ruined by the way you were laughing. Jamie looked scandalised as you fell backwards into the grass.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny?”
“Didn’t you only just find out about George Harrison dying?”
“I didn’t know!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Can’t know everything all the time, can I?” As you came down from your laughter, wiping a tear from your eye, you shook your hand.
“No, you can’t.”
He started moving around again, and you watched him. Recalling the conversation from earlier with Beard, you bit your lip.
“What about living?”
He paused.
“What?”
You inhaled sharply. “If you could say whatever you wanted to any living person, with no consequences, what would you say?” 
This made him really freeze, his eyebrows properly knitted together. After a moment of silence, he took a few steps forward and sat down just a few feet from you. Elbows on his knees, he rested his chin in his palms.
“I’d ask my dad why I wasn’t enough to keep ‘im sober.” All traces of humour left your face. He nodded before continuing, “I’d tell him I needed him to treat me as more than a punchin’ bag.” Another beat passed. “And then I’d thank him. I’m the man I am today in spite of him. And I’m proud of that.” 
He was staring at his hands right then. You smiled at him.
“You should be.” 
His head jumped upward, eyes falling on you once more. Your smile was more broad this time, as you leaned forward a little.
“Yeah?” He asked, as if his opinion was hanging by the thread of your answer. 
You nodded firmly. “Yeah.”
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talaok · 2 years ago
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Hii love! How have you been? I hope you’re doing really great!
I was hoping I could request a Pedro x f!reader ooor Joel x f!reader? Reader is really drunk and so she confesses her love for him? I’m a sucker for drunk confessions hihi she’s really miserable because she loves one of them for so long but never said anything bc she’s insecure…
Oh and also, thank you so so much for your writing, it never fails to make me smile when I’m feeling down and your stories are helping me cope with stress 💕 Congratulations on your beautiful blog !!!! 😍
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ok, so here's the thing, since you were so incredibly nice I decided not to choose, but instead do all the combinations, so here is: drunk confessions with Pre-outbreak!Joel, Post-outbreak!Joel, and Pedro Pascal.
pre-outbreak!Joel
"you're drunk, babygirl" he chuckled to himself as he held the bar's doors open for you.
He had offered to give you a ride home immediately after he noticed you getting a little too affectionate with everyone at the bar. 
He had originally gone out with Tommy, but as always as of lately, the thought of you had occupied his mind.
He didn't see you, he heard you first. Your beautiful laugh sounded off the walls of the dimly lit space and instantly, he (and Tommy) had known the plans for that night had changed.
" 'm not" you lied, struggling to see exactly where you were supposed to go.
"sure you aren't angel" he mocked, that smug grin still tugging at his lips as he put one of his strong arms around your back so he could guide you to the car.
The cold night air did nothing against the hot wave spreading through your body at the contact.
You wasted no time leaning into him.
He smelled of aftershave and of the hours spent working beneath the sun, and god if you didn't want to just bottle that scent up and get drunk on it every night.
"You didn't have to do this you know?" you spoke softly, your head raising to look at him better "One of my friends could have brought me home".
He laughed, his thumb unconsciously stroking your side, "I don't think any of them are in any better shape to drive than you are" he explained, lowering his head to look at you. Your pretty doe eyes made him momentarily forget what he was saying, but he quickly recovered, "Also, I don't mind"
You snorted, "You don't mind getting drunk women home? " you joked "perv"
He rolled his eyes, his mouth betraying him as it twitched into a smile "Why are you so drunk anyway?"
Your eyes briefly focused on the sky behind him before coming back to his.
"firstly," you paused for dramatic effect "I am not that drunk"
He just chuckled
"and secondly, I have some things on my mind"
"yeah, like what?" he asked, "do I have to beat someone up?"
"I wish it was that easy" you sighed, clinging to him 
He frowned "Is it a man? Did you meet someone?"
Your heart decided it would have been a good idea to pause for dramatic effect too.
"uhm- I-" Oh god you were too drunk to do this "No, it's-it's complicated"
He hummed in understanding " When is it ever not complicated?" he said "But I'm sure whatever it is it will work out, any man would be lucky to be with you angel"
And there it was, that stupid feeling in your chest whenever he said things like that.
"thank you" you murmured offering a thin smile
 __ __ __
The ride home was silent except for the soft music playing on the radio and the sound of the wind blowing through the open windows.
The air smelled of summer and cut grass, and as you soaked in the feeling, an idea arose in your mind.
A bad idea, a really bad one.
But you were drunk, and you only live once, right? He had said that any man would be lucky to be with you, so, of course, you couldn't help but wonder if he had also been included in the hypothetical, and well... now was the time to ask.
The car came to a stop right in front of your house.
You could see the lighted porch and the familiar tree in the middle of the yard, but your mind was elsewhere.
"You want me to walk you in?"
You turned to him, his big brown eyes hypnotizing.
It was now or never.
"No, I-" you stalled, knowing what you wanted to say but not knowing how to say it.
"What, angel?"
"Remember what we talked about before?" you spat out, your stomach suddenly twisted in itself 
"you mean your "complicated" situation?" he air quoted
"yeah, exactly" You nodded
"Sure, why?"
Oh god
Oh fuck
what had you done?
"Well, I-" You had to glance somewhere else, at the steering wheel, at the windshield, even at your hands, but you couldn't look at him.
"I was... I was talking about a man"
Something flashed behind his eyes but you couldn't quite put a finger on what it was.
"Do I know him?" he asked 
You could almost laugh "Well... yeah"
"Is he good to you?"
You looked at him again, just to see his complete attention directed at you, as if at that moment, only you existed.
"yes" you nodded
"Who is it?" he finally asked.
You struggled to swallow what felt like concrete in your throat.
Your palms were sweaty and your body temperature had gone up in a matter of seconds.
"Joel..." you breathed, your chest rising and falling rhythmically as you stared deep into his eyes "Joel, it's you"
There. You'd done it.
"w-what?" It wasn't every day you heard Joel Miller stutter.
"I like you, Joel" Now that you'd said it it was impossible to stop "I have for a while now"
"you..." he looked at you incredulously, as if you'd just confessed to him of being an alien.
" It's ok if you don't feel the same, we can go back as if this never happened, I just felt like I needed to tell you"
"No" he spat "No, no, we're not going back" he spoke frantically, making you smile "I like you too, angel, a lot," he said, "Ever since you moved here- I- I- Are you sure you're not just drunk?"
Your heart was beating out of your chest.
Did he just say that?
"No, Joel, it's the truth" you grinned
"fuck" he breathed, his eyes wide "I can't believe this" he murmured, leaning closer 
"I really want to kiss you right now"
"then what are you waiting for?"
~~~ ~~~
Post-outbreak!Joel  *angst because I can't help myself but there's a happy ending*
"What were you doing there?"  
He would have sounded mad to anyone else, but you knew he was really just worried.
"what were you?" you retorted, the alcohol in your veins giving your confidence a boost.
"you shouldn't hang out at places like that, those people aren't ones you want to be around when you've had too much to drink"
you didn't miss how he had avoided your question.
"Especially the men... god, sweetheart, I saw at least six guys eyeing you the entire night" he sighed, the pet name fleeing his lips involuntarily.
"how come you can go and I can't?"
He passed a hand through his hair, clearly in distress.
You were the only one able to do that, make him anxious and scared at the possibility of anything happening to you.
"y/n you know why"
"no, I don't" 
you both stopped in the middle of the street, the faint glow of the light poles barely illuminating your faces.
You could still hear the voices from the makeshift (and illegal) bar just around the corner, but the sound of your beating heart was predominant.
"Because I'm one of them" he breathed
"and yet, here you are, walking me home"
this was the thousandth time you'd had this conversation, this endless circle of you trying to convince him he wasn't the monster he thought he was, and him not believing you.
"That doesn't matter"
"I think it does"
"it's different"
"How?"
"because it's you"
You paused a moment, not knowing what to say.
Tiny little butterflies flying in your belly once again.
"You're a good man, Joel," you said, placing a hand on his bicep "No matter how hard you try to convince yourself of the opposite"
You noticed his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly.
"you don't know that y/n,"
"oh but I do" you murmured, absentmindedly getting closer "I can see it in everything you do" you spoke "I really do"
"Y/n-" he tried to speak but your lips were already on his.
You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pent-up tension you had both spent years creating but for some reason, you couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't go on pretending that just the thought of him didn't make your stomach twist and turn.
His hand went to your face, holding it as if you were about to slip away, as if in a second you were gonna change your mind.
His lips moved together with yours, and for a moment, you were the only person on the planet.
That was, just for a moment of course, for the second Joel's mind started working again, he knew he couldn't do this. No, not to you.
He leaned away, dropping his hands by his side.
You immediately knew something was wrong, and as pathetic as it was, felt tears prick your eyes.
"this-this is wrong" he shook his head
"Why?" you could only ask in a shaky whisper
"You don't want this, you don't want someone like me"
You forced yourself to take a deep breath. You were not gonna give up, not now.
"but I do" 
"y/n you deserve someone better than me" he spoke softly, like his own words hurt him too.
"That's not true, Joel" You promised "and even if it was I don't care. I want you, and I'm tired of pretending I don't" 
"You don't know who I am, what I've d-"
"I do! I know exactly who you are Joel, and that's exactly why I love you" You spoke louder now, frustration and hopefulness mixing together dangerously "Just, please- tell me the truth, tell me how you feel so that I can at least go to sleep tonight knowing that I tried" you begged "it's fine if you don't feel the same, I just- I just need to know the truth"
"Y/n, you-you're drunk, you don't mean this..."
"Joel, please" you forced the tears in your eyes to stay put "You know I do, just tell me. Please"
His hazel eyes bored right into yours, and you were sure that if it wasn't for all those beers in you you wouldn't have been able to hold his glare.
"sweetheart I-" he didn't know what to say.
He couldn't tell you the truth right? he couldn't tell you that since he first saw you you'd been haunting his mind like a curse, he couldn't tell you that for the first time in years, he found himself smiling at something so small as you laughing at something he'd said, he couldn't tell you, because for as much as he had grown to love you, he knew, with a horrifying certainty, that he could never get used to being loved by you, by someone as perfect as you.
"Please Joel" you begged him once more, and as much as he fought it, he couldn't do it, he gave up the fight the moment he heard that sweet little voice of yours breaking.
He couldn't lie to you, not anymore.
And so he didn't.
"y/n" he said "Of course I love you"
~~~ ~~~
Pedro Pascal
You had no idea what the fuck you were doing.
Not one. Zero. Nada. Niente.
The cab had come to a stop and you still hadn't decided what to say.
The club you'd just spent the past few hours dancing and drinking at was much closer to his house than you had expected.
Your heart was thumping in your chest as you stepped onto his front porch.
You glanced at the taxi to make sure it was still waiting for you and found the driver looking curiously at you.
You had asked him to stay when the sober part of your brain realized this wasn't gonna end well.
You took a deep breath, purposely ignoring the fact you had noticed all the lights being off as you knocked on the door.
fuck, this was a mistake.
Everything fell silent for a few seconds, even your mind, and then, you heard the lock tick and the door opened.
Ok, you can do this
Pedro squinted, trying to get a better look at you.
He instantly noticed your outfit and the way your tight dress hugged every part of your body and he had to force his eyes to look away.
He, on the other side, was in what you could only guess were his pajamas: a Lakers shirt and boxers.
"y/n?" he asked, his voice hoarse and deep.
"I'm sorry, were you sleeping?"
He cleared his throat, passing a hand through his messy bed hair "no, don't worry I couldn't sleep"
"oh, alright" you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Did something happen?" he asked, eyeing the taxi beside you.
"N-no I just..." Was it just you or was it much harder to breathe all of a sudden? "I needed to tell you something"
"oh," what looked like fear fleshed behind his eyes "You want to come in?"
"n-no it's ok, I'm gonna be quick"
"alright" he nodded, wide awake now
"so..." you trailed off, "ok, the thing is that I-" you bit your lip, your nails picking some skin off your thumb in nervousness "I..."
"Sugar you're killing me here, what is it?"
You forced a small chuckle "I'm sorry" said, trying to calm your racing heart "fuck- ok, you know what? I'm just gonna say it" you decided, not giving yourself time to think about it before spitting out your next words.
"Pedro, I like you. Like- a lot" You tried to smile but your nerves got the best of you "And I know this isn't ideal and that I'm drunk and everything... but I just need you to know"
His eyes were blown wide "You're drunk?"
"well, kinda" you blew him off "but that's not the point, Pedro, I really really like you, like so much it hurts to fucking look at you" You laughed softly now at how crazy you must have sounded " I never told you because I know you don't like me back, and it's ok that you don't, but I just wanted you to know that I really fucking like you because it's been eating me alive for so long and I just needed to say it out loud"
Silence spread once again, his eyes were trained on you, and yours on his.
None of you moved or talked, and you took it as your cue to go.
"ok, I'm gonna go now" you spoke "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, goodnight" You turned to walk away when a hand grabbed your arm.
You turned around, finding his eyes trained on you with an expression you had never seen on him before.
"sugar..." he finally spoke
And there it was, the "it's great you feel that way but I think we should just remain friends" speech you could have felt coming from a mile away.
"y/n are you sure you want to do this now?"
"what do you mean?"
"I mean you're drunk, and maybe you'll wake up tomorrow and regret all of this"
"I don't care, I just wanted to tell you" You shrugged "and there's not really anything to do, Pedro, I know you don't like me, it's fine, I'm gonna go home now"
an unexpected laugh fled his mouth "You really believe that?"
You frowned, your breathing getting heavier again.
"sugar, do you really have no idea what you do to me? About all the nights I spend thinking of you? All the times I dreamed of doing exactly what you're doing right now?"
Your heart had decided to stop working completely, and to be honest, who could blame him?
There it was, Pedro fucking Pascal telling you all about what you do to him.
"I-" you could only stutter
"y/n, fuck- baby, I just- I always assumed you wouldn't want to be with someone like me"
"What?" 
"Well I mean, you're very much out of my league sugar"
"you're kidding me right?" you laughed "You're Pedro Pascal, what are you talking about?"
"And you're Y/n Y/l/n," he explained, a smile tugging at his lips.
Silence again, but this time lighter, it was an incredulous, happy silence filled with realization.
"So what does this mean?" you asked, breathless
He grinned "I have no idea," he said "I just-god, I wish you were sober so I could kiss you"
"You can kiss me"
"I don't want you to forget our first kiss"
"then I'll come back in the morning"
he smiled "Promise?"
"Promise"
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