#buy face shield online

[avis-writeshq]

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: established relationship warnings: mentions of assault, tiny bar fight, mentions of alcohol consumption a/n: i wasn't really sure how much i liked this, but i hope you guys do! i wanted to post something because i won't be online much for finals :( wc: 1.16k

You meant it when you offered to get the drinks for the table. You offer to do the first round: four rum and cokes, whiskey (neat, because Aaron would rather get his money’s worth) and whatever bright pink concoction Penelope ordered written neatly in purple glittery gel pen on an old receipt. Rossi’s glass of wine that he ordered costs double the entire order, and Spencer orders an Arnold Palmer. 

“Did you want to start a tab?” The bartender asks kindly, her pretty green eyes framed by dark brown hair clipped by a barrette. 

“Oh! Um, sure.” You smile, gesturing to the booth where the rest of the team were sitting at. “You can put it down for that table.”

She nods, tapping a few buttons on her POS system before looking back up at you. “There’s already a card for that table. Under… Aaron Hotchner?”

Your brows lift in surprise at her words, a laugh of disbelief leaving your lips. “Of course he did. That’s fine, thank you.”

You return carrying a tray of far too many drinks, setting them down with a soft sigh of relief. Everyone takes their respective drinks while Aaron pulls you into his side, his thigh pressing against yours as he lets his lips linger on the side of your head. 

“Thank you for that,” he murmurs lowly into your ear, squeezing at the flesh of your waist. His other hand swirls his whisky around the glass. “Did you carry them alright?”

“Mm. I’ll have to go back to get Penny’s drink. The lady at the bar said it’ll be in a couple minutes or so because the order was so specific.” You’re smiling at him despite your original annoyance. “I meant it when I said that I would treat everyone to the first round of drinks.”

“I meant it when I said that I would take care of you,” he responds simply. “The drinks they ordered was more than just a pretty penny.”

From the corner of your eye you spot the bartender waving you over, and you laugh before  pressing a soft kiss against Aaron’s face. “I’ll be right back, handsome.”

You really did mean it when you said that you would be right back. With a napkin wrapped around the cocktail glass, you turn around to make your way back to the table when a voice catches your attention. 

“Pretty drink for a pretty girl,” the man comments, and it takes a second for it to register in your mind. 

“Oh. Thank you, it’s for my friend and she is really pretty.” You smile politely. Wrong move.

“Not as pretty as you, I’m sure,” he continues, his eyes gleaming in your direction. You don’t really appreciate the way he thinks that his words are a proper compliment. “Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart. The name’s Colby.”

“That’s alright, I really do need to get back to my group.” You take a hesitant step away but he takes another step forward. 

This is dangerous, how close this stranger is. Anxiety wells in your throat and your stomach drops with nerves. 

“Just one drink,” Colby insists, inching closer. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

“I don’t need one,” you say, searching for  your voice. “Excuse me…”

Colby scowls, taking a step forward as he tries to prevent your escape. His fingers graze against your side dangerously close to the waistband of your pants and you can’t help but jolt, the glass slipping from your grasp and shattering against the cold tile of the bar floor. Your heart plummets to your stomach as the man grunts in frustration. 

“Look at what you did,” he snaps, shaking the drink off his hands. His eyes are dangerous as he glares at you, his hand lunching up and out, aiming directly for your arm. “You little–”

“That is enough.”

You almost cry out in relief when you see Aaron step in front of you, effectively shielding you away from the assault. He’s big and tall, and though you do not see him upset very often, it is even rarer for you to see him angry and mean. 

Aaron stretches to his full height, his eyes narrowed and his gaze dark. He stares down this man– this pathetic excuse of a human being– with the same hatred and disgust as he does with the unsubs he faces on the daily. 

“Oi, back off, would ya?” Colby sneers, crossing his arms over his chest. Aaron has half the mind to think that he would start stomping around like a petulant child. 

For once, Aaron wastes no time digging into his suit pocket and pulling out his badge, a grim look on his face. “FBI. If you make one more comment or so much as glance in her direction again, I will be arresting you and taking you in for custody before you can breathe your next breath. Do you understand me?”

The silence is almost deafening and Aaron finds his patience withering with every passing second. 

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Fuck you,” Colby snaps, drunkenly lunging with his fists clenched to clock Aaron in the face.

Aaron resists the urge to roll his eyes as he handcuffs Colby’s arms behind his back, dragging him out of the bar. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court…”

Everything after that is a blur. The bar awards you and the rest of the team free drinks and food for the remainder of your stay, and Colby is taken off to the nearest police precinct in record time. Regardless of all the delicious food, your appetite no longer exists as you curl into Aaron’s side, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, his lips grazing lightly against your forehead. “I’m sorry that something like that happened. You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“You didn’t deserve to almost be punched in the face,” You respond back, a wry smile spreading across your lips.

He laughs, squeezing your shoulder. “He was punching air, sweetheart. I don’t really know where he was aiming, but there was no way that he was going to actually hit me.”

Aaron watches you, the way you turn away from him and pick at your fingers. He exhales after a moment, dipping his head to meet your woeful gaze. “None of this–” he gestures to where one of the staff members is carefully cleaning up the broken glass– “is your fault. I hope you understand that. What happened was not your fault and you shouldn’t blame yourself for someone else’s actions.”

His words make you smile a little and you can’t help but press a soft kiss against his cheek. “Yeah. You’re lovely, Aaron, you know that?”

“I could say the same for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, squeezing your shoulder again. “You’re the loveliest.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

[eevees-hobbies]

oh oh oh eve how do you think sakura, ume, togame, and kiryu are reacting to seeing the girl they’re 👀talking👀 to in a cute lil sundress for the first time 🤭

Author’s Note: Hi, Anon! I wasn’t sure if you meant talking as in the “relationship is still brand new” way or “we talk and do OTHER things” way, haha, so I wanted to be safe! If you want NSFW, I can do a part 2! 

Content Warning: Some minor suggestiveness in Umemiya’s and Kiryu’s, but no smut anywhere in this post. I’m shocked, too.

Word Count: 900 words (short and sweet, like you!)

Haruka Sakura

Sakura was convinced that all dresses looked the same.

When you asked him to explain what he knew about which types of dresses existed, he rolled his eyes at you as though it was a burden to explain something so simple, 

“Yeah, you got the floofy ones, and those that…are less floofy?” 

But when you asked him if you could model your sundress for him, he gave an almost apathetic shrug until you pranced out in front of him, giving him a twirl and sticking your tongue out at him. As you complete your circle, you throw your hands up and ask, “What do you think, Kitten?”

Sakura’s face is bright red as he looks at your dress, scanning the areas where it hugs you in all the right places and where it leaves little to the imagination.

“W-what kind of dress is that?!”

You sigh and place a hand on your hip in exasperation, “Don’t you listen? It’s a SUNDRESS! Do you not like it?”

He mumbles something barely above a whisper; in return, you cup your hand around your ear, “Huh?? Can’t hear you.” 

“Are you….are you crazy? Of course…I like it! It looks great on you,” he huffs and looks away. “I think you should wear that thing more often.” 

“Oh, Kitten!” You throw your arms around his neck and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“I’m so glad you said that because I needed an excuse to buy more, and you can carry all of my shopping bags.”

“I didn’t say-“

“Because you’re so strong! Look at these muscles!” You pump his bicep with your hand, which causes him to blush.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll carry all your sundresses.” 

Hajime Umemiya

Gardening during the Summer can be brutal! You often help Umemiya in his garden, and no amount of spraying each other with the water hose is enough to keep you from drenching the soil in the collective sweat you both produce.

While putting away the gardening tools in the shed and removing his brown leather gloves, Ume offers a solution: “Hey, maybe you should wear something more comfortable tomorrow?”

So you take him up on his offer and show up the next day wearing a light blue sundress, comfortable flats, and a wide-brimmed sun hat.

Ume has to shield his eyes from the sun when he looks up at you, but his heart falters when his vision focuses. Umemiya doesn’t usually care about what you wear—to him, you are perfection personified. But in that moment, he realized he might have a thing for you in sundresses.

“A-are you sure you want to garden in that? It looks like it might get dirty easily?”

He so desperately wants to reach out and feel the fabric against his fingers and pull you closer to feel your shape against him, but what you have is so new that he’s trying to be as much of a gentleman as possible. 

“Ume, I can still get down and dirty,” you joke and turn away to grab a watering pail.

You leave Umemiya nodding to himself as he watches you walk away, “Y-yeah, down and dirty.”

Mitsuki Kiryu

When Kiryu sends you links to a few sundresses he found online, you get the feeling that he is trying to tell you something.

“These are cute, yeah? Sent you some money for a few. Surprise me with your favorite one on our date?”

You check the links, scrolling through the name-brand dresses with price tags that make you sweat. Kiryu has impeccable taste, though, so you put some in your cart and place your order in time for the movie date.

As you approach the cinema, briefly feeling self-conscious of what Kiryu might think of you, you consider texting him to say you’ll be late to give you time to go back home and change. Those unnecessary feelings melt away as Kiryu waves at you, a grin on his face as though you are responsible for supplying the planet with light.

“You look so beautiful! I think my heart stopped when I saw you turn the corner.” He takes your hand in his and presses his lips against your knuckles.

“It’ll be hard to control myself in our seats, but for you, I’ll do my best,” he says, looping his arms around yours. Then he walks you into the theater, inquiring if you saw more dresses you’d like to buy.

Jo Togame

Togame laughs the first time he sees you in a sundress. Literally, uncharacteristically doubles over in rapturous laughter. 

“Togame-” with the sole warning of his name, you pick up your purse, fully ready to swing.

He reaches out and grabs your wrist, wiping a tear from his eye, “Hey, calm down. I’m laughing because I feel like the luckiest man alive.”

He pulls you into his arms; your head rests against his chest, allowing you to hear his heart beating loudly against his ribcage.

“You look like the type of girl I’d be too afraid to ask out, and somehow, I’ve tricked you into dating me.”

You scrunch your nose up, “tricked? Togame, please don’t talk like that. You’re hot and the man of my dreams.”

“Even with Choji?”

“Yes, even with our throuple.” 

He laughs again, but this time, you know it’s a laugh to be shared rather than at your expense. 

“Can you twirl for me? I can’t stop lookin’ at you.”

And it’s true. You're so ridiculously pretty that Togame can’t believe someone who looks like you gives him the time of day. He’s obsessed with your sundress look, pointing you out to his friends and saying almost nonchalantly,

‘Yeah, that’s my girl. Doesn’t she look cute?”

Choji waves at you from where he’s standing next to Togame, “I know what your girlfriend looks like.”

“Sorry, thought you could use a reminder.”

[topguncortez]

Happy grad!!!

Could you please write an angst writing with reader hurting swayman using the prompt "Why would you say that? " ?

Thank you!

Only Love Can Hurt Like This - J. Swayman

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

warnings: angst, issues with body image, online bullying, cursing, miscommunication, hockey inaccuracies

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: what was meant to be a cute video taken by the Bruins social media team, turned into a never ending cycle of rude online comments and threats. What's worse, is your fiancé's in the first round of the playoffs and he can read you like the back of his hand

Life with Jeremy Swayman was how one would think it would be. He was as charismatic and sassy as he was on the ice and in interviews. He cared for those he loved, he did everything in his power to keep a smile on your face. He was the type of boyfriend who would buy you “just because” flowers and cook your favorite meal when there was even the slightest hint of a frown on your face. He was the type of boyfriend who knew when your period was going to start, and would make sure to be stocked up on your favorite snacks and any supplies that you would need. He was the type of boyfriend who did his best to shield you away from the hate and the trolls that came along with being with a hockey player. 

Jeremy had seen first hand how hard some people could be on the internet. He did his best to ignore the comments and the tweets, but sometimes, drowning in your own despair after losing a game was much needed therapy. 

It was actually your idea to keep your relationship private. Jeremy was the type of person who loved out loud. He loved showing off the people he loved, wanted to boast about their accomplishments to anyone and everyone who would listen. He didn’t necessarily like being the center of attention. . . but he also reveled in it. But you were the complete opposite. You never were one to post about everything single thing you did on social media. You didn’t like to be the center of attention or have everyone’s eyes on you. For the first couple months of dating, you managed to fly under the radar, which was an accomplishment in itself, but one instagram story posted by your golden retriever of a boyfriend had boosted you from “internet ghost” to “who's the girl with Jeremy Swayman.” 

The speculation firestorm had started and it ultimately led to some tech-savvy fans finding your instagram and screenshotting all of your personal photos to post on their fan accounts. At first you found it kind of sweet, the captions on the fan accounts calling you beautiful and a queen, and “Mrs. Sway” (even though at that moment in time you had only been dating for three months). But then it all started to get weird, some people finding out your birth place, your parents names, where you went to high school, where you went to college. Then the hate accounts started to rise. The vile, awful comments about you and your appearance, how you are only with Jeremy because he’s Jeremy Swayman, and one fan went as far as commenting what apartment building you lived in. 

You had never felt so violated and at a loss what to do in your life. You loved Jeremy with all your heart. You loved everything about him. It nearly broke you in two to sit down with him, tears streaming down your face as you told him about what had been going on. You thought that he would break up with you, right there in then. If you couldn’t handle being in the spotlight, then you couldn’t be the one for him. You had been replaying in your mind how you would handle it when those five words would leave his lips. Except, the opposite happened. 

Jeremy wrapped you up in the tightest, most bone crushing hug he could muster, and cried as he tucked his face into your neck. He had no idea that his one silly instagram story of you singing karaoke at the bar would turn into a mess of this caliber. He felt horrible that his “fans” were saying awful things about you and had threatened your safety. A sick feeling arose in his stomach at thought of something happening to you because of his job. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jeremy sniffled, pulling away from you, “I never wanted this to happen, I just didn’t. . . please don’t leave me. I-I’ll say something or make a post- you can move in with me! I have a state of the art security so you don’t have-” 

“Wait,” You cut off his rambling, grabbing his hands, “Leave you?” 

“Yeah,” Jeremy said defeated, “That’s what you’re doing here right? I mean, I totally get it. You have every right to feel protected and safe and not have to-” You grabbed his face with both hands, and cut his rambling off with a searing kiss. Jeremy immediately reacted, his hands going to your hips, as you kissed him. 

You pulled back breathlessly, looking into those brown eyes that you loved so much, “Jeremy Ryan Swayman, I am not leaving you. Never in a million years would I think of leaving you. . . unless you-” And now it was Jeremy’s turn to cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Never,” Jeremy whispered against your lips, “Never ever. You’re stuck with me.” 

And for the past three years, that’s exactly where you have been. Stuck with Jeremy Swayman. You watched him grow as a goaltender and a player, which had to be one of your favorite things. He had gained so much confidence in the past three seasons with the Bruins. 

Since that day you broke down to him about the fans, the two of you had done everything you possibly can to keep your relationship off of social media. You deleted all your old social media, and made new private accounts. You and Jeremy moved into a new apartment together (he couldn’t stand the thought of someone finding out where he lived and putting you at risk, again.) Most fans had thought that you and Jeremy broke up, since your lack of presence on his social media, but the eagle eyed ones still spotted you at home games, sitting a couple rows up from the goalie net. Every so often a video of you at a game, down at the glass with Ully’s or Jeremy’s family would come up on your social media. But for the most part, the fans had completely forgotten you existed. 

That was, until the playoffs had rolled around. 

You were beyond excited for Jeremy and the Bruins to make another play-off run, after last season's heartbreak. You could remember the tear stained face of your lovable boyfriend as he walked out of the locker room and collapsed into your embrace. Brad and David did their best to console Jeremy, but he was in the state of mind to not listen to them. He was the goalie afterall, his one job was to block the other team from scoring and he failed. 

This year though, Jeremy and the Bruins were ready to make a run for the Cup. They wanted to go all the way, and were going to do all they could to get that Cup back in Boston. Though, Jeremy was excited for playoff hockey, he was also excited to see you in your WAG jacket. You opted out of getting one last year, not really feeling like you fit in amongst the rest of the wives and girlfriends of the players. You hated comparing yourself to them, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t tall and skinny and blonde and a model like most of them. Hell, you were a third grade teacher, making not nearly a quarter of what Jeremy makes. You felt out of place amongst the WAGs. But this year was different, you had somewhat found your place, and you had the Ullmark family to thank for that. 

“Do you know what they look like?” Jeremy asked as he scrubbed the dishes after dinner. 

“No idea,” You shook your head, “Katrina and Rebecca handled all the design and stuff. I just had to go in and get measured.” 

“Your first WAG jacket,” Jeremy said with a dreamlike sigh, and looked over at you, that boyish grin on your face, “We should frame it after we win the cup,” You rolled your eyes, “No seriously! We can hang it next to my UMaine jersey. It’s poetic.” 

“Just another thing in this house with your name on it.” 

“Ahem,” He cleared his throat, pointing his finger at you, “It’s your name too.” 

A blush coated your cheeks as you looked at the diamond ring he had proposed to you with about three months ago. It was the most beautiful diamond that you had ever seen, a gift given to Jeremy from his grandma. The two of you had been waiting to tell more people about the engagement, but also wanted to wait until the season was over. If things could go Jeremy’s way, you’d be neck deep in the middle of wedding planning about now. 

“Soon,” You corrected, putting the last dish away. 

Jeremy dried his hands on a dish towel, before throwing it on his shoulder. He grabbed your hips, pulling you to him, “Soon enough,” He placed a kiss on your lips, “I bet you’ll look so hot in your WAG jacket. You already drive me crazy when you wear my jersey. Now you get your own custom made jacket with my name on it? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you.” 

You shook your head, patting his chest, “You’ll have to try, big boy.” 

Jeremy let out a groan as you walked out of his embrace. You put an extra swing in your hips as you walked to the bedroom, knowing he was watching your ass the entire way until you turned down the hall. 

— — —

It felt weird driving to TD Garden without Jeremy by your side. You had never been here without him, and felt a bit like a fish out of water as you parked in his designated spot, which was right next to Moa. You felt a wave of comfort roll over you as she smiled at you, getting out of her car to greet you. 

“You’re here!” She smiled. 

“I am,” You wiped your sweaty hands on your jeans, “Is this okay? Does my hair look okay? What about my makeup? I never put any on except for important events.” 

“You look great,” Moa said, and you could tell she was genuine. You had spent a whole forty-five minutes staring at your closet and another forty-five trying on different outfits. All Katrina and Rebecca had said was to dress your best for the photo shoot, and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant. Luckily, being a teacher, you had an arsenal of clothing for business casual. But you weren’t sure if your definition of business casual met their definition of business casual. 

“I’m nervous,” You mumbled, picking at your hands. 

Moa grabbed your hands, “I know. But there’s nothing to worry about! It’s just the girls!” 

“Yeah. . .” You sighed, as Moa threw her arm around you and walked towards the locker room where the rest of the wives and girlfriends were. 

The jackets were better than you could ever imagine. The brown leather looked simple and chic, with the logo on the front and the players’ last name on the back. You couldn’t help but feel a bit teary eyed as you ran your fingers over the stitching of your fiance’s last name. He was right, maybe you should frame it when the playoffs are over. 

Donned in your Bruins leather jacket, you and the other wives/girlfriends made your way to the plaza in front of TD Garden. The girls so naturally clumped together to take pictures, as you stood somewhat awkwardly in the midst of them. It wasn’t until Katrina pulled you to stand next to her, and wrapped her arm around your shoulders that the tension in your body eased. An easy smile arose on your face as you posed with the girls in different locations. 

“Moa and Y/N, can we get a video of you two doing the Ully-Sway hug?” One of the social media interns asked. You eagerly nodded your head, getting pulled by Moa. It was easily one of your favorite traditions in Bruins hockey, watching your bubbly, happy fiance hug his best friend after a winning game. There was something about watching two grown men, donned in goalie pads, throw themselves at one another and spin around in circles that brought a warm and fuzzy feeling to your belly and a bright smile on your face. 

You didn’t even think twice as you recreated your fiance’s famous hug with Moa. Laughter filled the air as you hugged her tight and spun in a circle. You didn’t even think twice when you got the tag on tiktok, watching the video in comparison to Ully and Sway’s over and over. You didn’t even think twice when you sent the link to the tiktok to Jeremy asking “who did it better?” You didn’t even think twice as the Bruin’s comment section was filled with fans tagging you and asking if you were back and how they knew that they saw you at games. 

You didn’t even really think about the video being on social media, until the hate comments started rolling in. 

The video hadn’t been up for more than 24 hours when the trolls and the “fans” started spewing their hateful words that you had tried so hard to fight off for the past three years. You tried your best to not pay attention to the comments as the video spread across tiktok and onto instagram and twitter. But the innocent video of two friends recreating their husbands iconic hug, turned into fans posting pictures and videos of you leaving TD Garden with Jeremy, or out on a run by yourself, or even some of the photos the WAGs had tagged you in. The pictures didn’t necessarily bother you, as much as the comments did. 

“She’s still with him!” 

“Duh, gotta play the part to get the cash.” 

“Dying for one of the WAGs to give her a makeover.” 

“How well do you think she sucked d for the jacket????” 

“I thought we got rid of her” 

“It’s nice to see a midsized wag” 

“Since when did puck bunnies become wags” 

“Living every puck bunnies dream” 

“I miss his old gf, she was prettier” 

“She's probably for the team” 

“He will realize soon when she leaves him if he doesn't get the cup” 

“And how many more does he have in other cities?” 

You were sitting at your vanity, fighting with your inner thoughts when you should’ve been getting ready for the first game in the playoff series. It was a big night for Jeremy, and all you wanted to do was get dressed in your outfit that you and Moa had gone shopping for and wear that beautiful brown leather jacket with your future last name on it. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to take your hair out of the curlers you had begrudgingly put in your hair, or start your makeup routine, or even get dressed as you sat in one of Jeremy’s dress shirts and panties. Jeremy was singing loudly along to his pre-pre game playlist in the bathroom, not paying any mind to the war that was going on in your head. 

The comments had gotten worse since some of the wives posted pictures of everyone in their jackets. Some fans had found your new instagram account, tagging you in the comments. You felt horrible that their nastiness was being left on other people’s posts. It made you feel as though they were growing to resent you, as no one had reached out and invited you to sit in the box, until Moa did this morning. It took all your strength to not break down and cry, knowing that you had been left out of planning of something, when you finally felt like you had made it “in” to the group. 

The comments were also taking a toll on yourself image. You took longer than necessary staring at your naked body in the mirror, analyzing every stretch mark, scar, and blemish on your skin. You pulled and pinched at your belly, your hip dips, your chin, and your thighs. All the places you had been insecure about the most, the fans seemed to figure out and make comments on. It was truly amazing how the comments could drive so deep into your heart. 

“Baby!” Jeremy’s cheerful voice sounded out as he came out of the bathroom, dress pants on his perfectly chiseled body. You clenched your jaw, fighting back the anger. Normally, you’d be drooling over the sight of his perfect abs on display, his pants low on his hips, but right now it made you angry. Sure, he followed the meal plan that his trainers gave him, but he’d also have his cheat days. But you’d never know looking at him. You’d never know that this man could pack away a dozen donuts like it was nothing. But you felt like you'd pop the button in your jeans if you even ate one. 

“Babe?” Jeremy asked, catching your attention, “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you dressed?” 

You blinked, looking down at your makeup brushes laid out in front of you, “I got distracted.” 

Jeremy wasn’t buying it for a second. He knew you like the back of his hand, and could sense something was off from a mile away. He walked over to you, kneeling down in front of you and grabbing your hands, “Honey, look at me.” 

You glanced at him, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. You had been trying everything that you could to hold back from breaking down. Tonight and this playoff season was too important to Jermey and the team that you couldn’t be breaking down in tears over some stupid people on the internet. But the way Jeremy was looking at you, searching your eyes for any idea of what was bothering you, the flood gates broke. 

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. 

“Oh honey,” Jeremy cooed, pulling you into his strong arms. Your body shook as you cried, his hand on the back of your head, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and running a comforting hand over your hair. Hearing you cry made his heart break, and tears well up in your own eyes. He tried so hard to make sure that you never had a reason to cry like this, and he felt like he had failed you. When your sobs had been reduced to sniffles, Jeremy pulled you back gently, his hands cupping your face and brushing away the stray tears. 

“Please,” Jeremy pleaded, “Tell me what’s wrong? And don’t lie to me. I know something’s been bothering you for a few days now. Please tell me, so I can fix it.” 

You shook your head, a sad smile on your face, “You can’t fix this.” 

“Well, I can try.” 

You let out a shuddering breath as you grabbed your phone, opening up your camera roll and showing him the screenshots of a series of comments from several different posts. Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at them. You watched as he went from confused to angry to sad. He looked up at you, his brown eyes wet with tears. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

You shrugged, wiping your nose, “Cause you’re busy and it’s the playoffs and I shouldn’t be bothering you with this-” 

“Bothering me with this stuff? Why would you say that? You’re not bothering me with anything,” Jeremy shifted closer to you, “You are my life, Y/N. You are my everything. For better or for worse. In good times and bad. I might not be able to fix all this, but I will do everything I possibly can to make it better.” 

The tears fell even harder as you looked at him. He looked torn to pieces that you had kept this from him, and it made you feel horrible. You thought you were protecting him by not bringing this up, but it had made you feel even worse going through all this alone. 

“I just feel. . . I feel like I have fucked everything up,” You admitted, “They’re leaving comments on the girls’ posts, and on the Bruins’ page. I mean, it makes sense that the girls didn’t want to invite me to the box tonight.” 

“What?” Jeremy’s eyebrows rose in confusion. 

“They didn’t invite me to the box,” You said, your voice sounding small. 

“No, baby, no,” Jeremy shook his head, running hand down his face, “I. . .” He sighed, “I let it slip at practice that I proposed.” 

“Jer!” 

“I’m sorry!” Jeremy exclaimed, “I know, I know you wanted to wait until after the playoffs to say something, but. . . you sent that video and Ully said something about “our girls look good” and I said “you mean our wives,” He shook his head, “Ully told Moa and Moa told Katrina and Katrina wanted to surprise you with a small engagement type party in the box.” 

“It was supposed to be a surprise?” 

Jeremy nodded, “It was supposed to be a surprise. I didn’t know that all this other stuff was going on, but I promise! I promise. . . they weren’t leaving you out, baby.” 

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Tears welled up in your eyes again, and this time Jeremy was confused, “That’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me.” 

Jeremy felt his heart flutter in his chest, as he wiped a tear away from your cheek, “I’m sorry I let it slip and didn’t tell you about the surprise,” He grabbed both of your hands in his, “And I am so sorry about the things they are saying, but none of it is true. It is the farthest thing from true. You are my everything. You are the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I smile, the reason I get out on the ice every day. You are the reason for everything. And nothing is going to change that.” 

“You don’t care that I don’t look-” 

“I’m not even going to let you finish that sentence cause that’s just ridiculous,” He shook his head, “I want you. I will always want you. Even when we’re 80 years old, and I’ve taken one too many pucks to the head and can’t wipe my own ass, I will want you, as long as you will have me.” 

“I’ll want you too,” You said, a tearful smile on your face, “And you’ve taken one too many pucks to the head now,” He chuckled, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. 

“I’ll keep taking pucks to the head if it means that it makes you smile.” 

“As long as you have all your teeth.” 

“No promises.” You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. Jeremy stood up, and gently tilted your head up so he could place a kiss on your forehead, “Fuck what they say cause nothing matters. The hate they spew is because they’re jealous and miserable in their own lives. What matters is you and me. As long as we are happy, they can just fuck right off.” 

You smiled up at him, “I’ll always be happy with you.”

tagging: @roosterdobson cause you're the reason I'm obsessed with a man who catches rubber pucks for a living

[forfucksakesniall]

"Breaking Point"

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Soft!Reader

Summary: In a world of fame, love, and shattered expectations, Lewis Hamilton and his partner find themselves at a crossroads. With tensions high and emotions raw, their relationship hangs in the balance.

Word Count: 2,519

Trigger warning/Content advisory: Possessiveness, arguments, emotional manipulation, intense emotions, privacy invasion, stalking, emotional conflict, verbal arguments, and intimate moments between characters. Reader discretion is advised.

Masterlist

Lewis Hamilton had another exhausting day with his meetings, leaving you with nothing to do. Bored, you checked your phone for any fun events in the area when suddenly a friend called.

"Where have you been??" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"What do you mean? I've been home all day," you replied, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, just being pampered at home," she retorted.

"Hey! He's not always home, this is our only time together, okay!" you defended yourself.

"Yeah, yeah," she giggled.

She convinced you to go out for dinner and a few drinks. Her argument made sense because you rarely got to spend time with Lewis due to his busy schedule.

You thought, "It's just a few hours. He's out too, and he'll be out late anyway. Maybe going out won't be so bad, right?" 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Lewis has always been the archetypal doting boyfriend-overprotective, always watching out for you. Some may find it weird, but to you, it's charming and perfectly acceptable. You understand that his fame attracts unwanted attention from the paparazzi. Now that you're a part of his life, being the private person that he is, it becomes even more challenging for him. The thought of others knowing about you creates anxiety within him. He constantly worries when he doesn't know your whereabouts or how you're doing.

You never want him to worry about you or add to the stress he already feels from his work. You make an effort to stay out of the public eye and avoid drawing attention online. However, people always manage to find a way.

Once, when you went out to buy groceries, they somehow discovered where you lived and began stalking you near your apartment. Since Lewis would always come over to hang out. When Lewis found out about it, he insisted that you move in with him to prevent any further incidents from happening.

But ever since that, You could proudly say that you've been quite successful in keeping a low profile these past few weeks.

You carefully picked a secluded spot that would shield you from any curious gazes.

As you prepared for dinner, you chose a delightful outfit and adorned yourself with some charming jewelry, courtesy of Lewis. You applied a touch of natural makeup and styled your hair with care. Just before leaving, you almost forgot to text Lewis that you were going out, but you remembered how easily he worries. So, you just grabbed your purse and headed out.

Your friends arrived to pick you up, and together you went on your date night to the restaurant, eager for a delightful night.

After what felt like an eternity, you were having the most incredible night. It was a blissful escape from the daily routine, surrounded by ambient music and a crowd of people absorbed in their own affairs.

Phone rings, displaying Lewis's name

Lewis: Hey, baby, our plans might wrap up sooner than anticipated. Want me to pick up dinner for us? 10:30pm

Lewis: I'll grab our favorite vegan dishes from that spot we tried last week. 10:45pm

Lewis: Are you busy? 10:57pm

Lewis: Baby?? 11:10pm

Missed call from Lewis (1)

Missed calls from Lewis (3)

You had become completely engrossed in the joyous moments, losing track of time. When you attempted to check the time on your phone, it refused to open. "Oh no," you exclaimed, a shiver running down your spine and draining the blood from your face. Your friends noticed your distressed voice and asked about the issue. "My phone died," you replied, filled with worry.

Lewis parked his car and hastened to your shared apartment, a sense of unease enveloping him as you failed to answer your phone. Trying to stay optimistic, he hoped that you had simply fallen asleep or were occupied in the bathroom. As he swung open the apartment door, he called out your name with a tinge of anxiety in his voice. "Baby? I'm home!" he exclaimed. He searched the kitchen, then the bedroom, followed by the bathroom, and finally the balcony, but you were nowhere to be found.

After pleading with your friends for a ride and insisting on not taking a cab alone, you finally arrived at your apartment. Countless thoughts raced through your mind.

What if Lewis has been trying to reach you and you haven't responded?

What if he's already home?

Or what if he's not here yet, but right behind you?

You pondered the worst-case scenarios, but little did you know, things were about to take a turn for the worse. As you stumbled towards the door, searching for your keys and fumbling with your purse, it swung open, revealing Lewis, his face twisted with anger, his jaw tight, and his eyes ablaze with intensity. The air grew heavy with tension as if a storm had materialized right before you, threatening to engulf everything in its path.

"Took you long enough," he commanded sternly, his voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

"I didn't know you'd be home early," you responded calmly, trying your best not to trigger any further conflict.

"You would have known if you had stayed where you were supposed to be," he retorted sharply.

"I just needed a break," you admitted your voice barely a whisper, filled with vulnerability.

"You should have told me! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" His voice grew louder, filled with frustration.

"I went out with my friends, Lewis. I'm fine, really. I came back safely," you assured, attempting to stay composed despite the growing tension. However, your throat began to ache from suppressing your emotions.

"Why didn't you answer your phone? Are you ignoring me on purpose? Are you that sick of having me around? " he questioned, his tone laced with disappointment.

"You know I wouldn't ignore you. Why would you even say that?" Tears welled up in your eyes, fighting hard to prevent them from cascading down your cheeks.

"What then?" he interjected, his voice dripping with impatience. His frustration hung in the air, suffocating any kind of hope. 

"Why can't you just be more considerate of my feelings? I give you everything, and all I ask for is a little communication, a little respect."

The weight of his words bore down on you, threatening to shatter the fragile balance between you. You searched for the right words, your mind racing to find a way to bridge the growing tension. But in the depths of your heart felt unsure and hesitant, wavering in your determination, mingling with the ache of the things left unsaid.

"You don't understand," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation. "I need space sometimes. I need moments where I can breathe and be myself, without constantly feeling the need to be watched."

His eyes grew cold, a storm brewing within them. "And what about my needs?" he shot back, his voice sharp and cutting. "Are they not important? Am I just supposed to stand by and watch you drift away?"

"That's not what I meant," you hurriedly responded, your voice tinged with unease. "It's not about neglecting your needs, but understanding that I also have my own."

His gaze intensified, his doubts apparent. "What do you think people will say about me being that kind of boyfriend?"

Silence hung heavy between you, the tension pulsating with every passing second. The room seemed to shrink, walls closing in as the weight of unspoken words grew unbearable. Your chest tightened, emotions swirling like a tempest, threatening to unleash a torrent of tears.

"I never wanted it to be like this," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, filled with regret and longing. “We can't keep avoiding this situation where you tell me what to do and expect me to always be doing it. I'm my own person too. 

"We'll end up secretly hating and hurting each other."

The weight of truth hung in the air, difficult to accept. Both of you stood at a crucial crossroads, where important choices awaited and raw emotions demanded attention. The room was filled with an intense conflict, a tension that pushed your fragile love to its limits.

Lewis, consumed by anger, seemed oblivious to the hurt he caused with his words. "Damn it," he muttered quietly, avoiding your gaze. Without saying another word, he left the bedroom and retreated to the bathroom.

How could he let himself slip like that? You had been patient, kind, and loving towards him. He knew he was in the wrong, but his overwhelming emotions prevented him from apologizing. Trying to calm himself, he splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror. 

"She doesn't deserve this," he whispered to himself, a decision taking shape in his mind, one that he feared he might regret.

Left bewildered by his sudden departure, your mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts:

Maybe he's finally had enough of your indecisiveness.

Why couldn't you have simply told him where you were going?

Why don't you speak up for yourself more often?

Why do you let things affect you so deeply?

Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the bed.

"Why are you crying? There's no reason to... Don't be so sensitive," you whispered to yourself, drowning in self-doubt. But before negativity consumes your thoughts entirely, his arms embrace you tightly, his head resting atop yours.

"I... I didn't mean any of that..." Lewis stammered, regret evident in his voice. Your emotions were overwhelming, preventing you from articulating the words you desired to say.

"I know I can be overly protective, putting you in difficult situations," Lewis acknowledged in his attempt to alleviate the tension only making matters worse.

"I understand you don't want that, but considering the circumstances, it's necessary," you replied, struggling to find the right words.

"But it shouldn't be..." Lewis hesitated, realizing the weight of his words. "Wouldn't it be better if it didn't have to be this way?"

"What do you mean?" you asked your heart racing, fearing the worst.

"I never wanted to be the one to stop you from your dreams or become an obstacle instead of an opportunity," Lewis confessed, his voice filled with resignation.

Is he breaking up with me? It can't be happening…

A wave of numbness washed over you, bringing a temporary calmness. Your breathing steadied, your trembling hands stilled, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

So that's it…

"Okay," was all you managed to utter, the weight of acceptance heavy in your voice.

With words hanging in the air, a profound silence settled between you and Lewis. The room seemed to hold its breath as if anticipating the next chapter of your story together.

Unable to bear the void any longer, Lewis gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. In his eyes, you saw a mix of regret, longing, and a spark of hope. Without speaking a word, he reached out, interlacing his fingers with yours, offering a comforting touch amidst the emotional turmoil.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, (Y/N)," Lewis finally broke the silence, his voice filled with sincerity. 

"You mean everything to me, and the thought of me causing you this is unbearable."

A flicker of vulnerability danced across his face, revealing the depth of his emotions. It was a side of him you had rarely witnessed before, reminding you of the fragile nature of love and the complexities that come with it.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time they held a different quality. They were tears of release, of letting go of the pain that had momentarily consumed you. You realized that, at this moment, you both were allowing yourselves to be vulnerable, to expose your fears and doubts, in the hopes of finding solace in each other's embrace.

You took a deep breath, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. 

"Lewis, I understand that we both have our struggles and fears. We're trying to get through some unfamiliar issues together."

"But I don't want to lose you," you confessed, your voice steady yet laced with vulnerability.

His strong yet comforting grip embraced you, providing a sense of security amidst the swirling doubts. As his fingers intertwined with yours, a warmth spread through your hand, soothing your troubled heart.

 "I don't want to lose you either, (Y/N)," he spoke with conviction, his voice resonating like a melodic whisper. "You're the light of my life, filling my days with endless joy and warmth. I made some mistakes along the way, but I promise to learn from them and grow with you."

In that tender moment, he cradled your face, his touch delicate and gentle. His eyes locked with yours, shimmering with filled promises. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the spark between your lips.

In that tender moment, he cradled your face, his touch delicate and gentle. His eyes locked with yours, shimmering with filled promises. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the spark between your lips.

As the intensity of the moment lingered, you felt a wave of emotions crashing over you. The remains of the fight slowly faded, an undeniable pull drew you closer to each other. Slowly, his fingers traced the contour of your cheek, his touch leaving a trail of warmth. With every caress, the tension began to dissolve, replaced by a renewed sense of longing and desire.

Your breaths intertwined, matching the want from each other. A silent agreement to let go of the past and embrace the present moment. His lips, soft and tender, met yours in a gentle kiss, making up all of the emotions that words could never capture.

As the kiss deepened, the flames of passion were ignited, consuming both of you. Lips moved in perfect harmony, exploring each other with increasing hunger and intensity. Your bodies gravitated closer, craving the intimate connection that only this moment could give. Hands roamed, eagerly exploring the contours of each other's bodies, conveying a renewed sense of desire and longing.

You both slowly sank into the softness of the bed, never breaking the intoxicating embrace. The world outside ceased to exist as your bodies melded together, entangled in a passionate dance. 

In this moment of vulnerability and surrender, the boundaries between you blurred, and all that remained was the raw and unfiltered expression of love. Each touch, each kiss, became a part of your chapter, the ups, and downs, the fights and reconciliations. And as you surrendered to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions, you knew that despite the challenges, your love would always triumph, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing moment.

The chapter of your love story remained unwritten, the outcome uncertain. But as your gazes locked once more, there was a flicker of hope. It was a silent promise, a shared understanding that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but also with the potential for growth, forgiveness, and a love that could weather any storm.

Disclaimer: The following piece is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

[princessasmosprincess]

Sunkissed

Summary: After a fun day at a Human World beach, the brothers realize they're sunburned.

Characters: The demon brothers and GN Reader/MC (it could be Asmodeus x Reader if you squint because this is my fic and hey, you're the one who came to the Asmo kissing blog).

Genre: Sickfic (kinda), humor, fluff

Warnings: Canon-typical sibling on sibling violence, sunburn, nonsexual nudity, mild canon-typical innuendo, no major spoilers but MC is in possession of a certain object they obtain in season 2.

***

“I might have to get rid of that new toner we bought, MC,” said Asmo as he held the door open for you. “My face hurts.”

“Really? My skin feels fine.” You’d known demon skin to be stronger than your own in most cases, so this was perplexing.

Asmo had purchased the toner with you only three days ago from a Human World store famous for selling the most exclusive skincare. It had gone viral online despite its steep price tag, so naturally Asmo had to buy it.

Asmo gasped. “You don’t suppose it contains holy water, do you?”

“That’s not really a common skincare ingredient in the Human World,” you said.

“Humans don’t use it to purify their skin?” He asked.

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh. “But maybe there's something else in the toner that doesn't agree with your skin, let’s take a look at the bottle.”

“Ok! I’ll go get it. And while I'm at it I’ll prepare a bath for the two of us,” He slipped his arm around your waist, leaning into you with his charming smile.

“Maybe…” you said, bumping him gently with your hip.

“We can even try out those bath salts I brought back for you, wouldn't that be nice?”

You had to admit a relaxing bath did sound nice right now. You and the brothers were just coming in from a day at the private beach Diavolo owned in the Human World. The beach was protected by a magical barrier, cloaking it from anyone not authorized to be there. You and the brothers were free to do whatever you wished, including using magic.

It had been a very full day. In the morning you'd surfed a little with Beel, needing to relearn most of what he’d taught you before. And then as soon as you got back to shore, you’d been pulled into a water fight “to the death” that had begun when Satan dumped a handful of sand down Lucifer’s rash guard while he was resting in the shade. You’d mostly been used as a shield between Satan and Mammon against Lucifer. You didn't really mind, though, since you got to see Lucifer's conflicted expression every time he faced you; not that it had really saved you in the end, you’d ended up soaked anyway. Then, Asmo had whisked you away to collect shells in the water with him, with the assistance of mercandy. You’d so enjoyed being merpeople together on your last beach trip that this was truly a treat to experience again. In the water you’d gotten to watch Levi swimming with Lotan, from a distance, of course. Satisfied with the shells you’d collected, you and Asmo dragged yourselves back onto the beach and fell asleep under the umbrella with Belphie, completely exhausted from all the swimming you’d done. You hadn't woken up until the sun had shifted and you were no longer in the shade. At the end of the day, you and the brothers got to watch porpoises breaching in the distance as the sunset lit the sea in shades of pink and gold.

You were grateful the beach Diavolo had lent you came with a vacation home (more like a mansion) just steps away from the shore.

“I call the first shower!” Mammon declared, kicking off his flip-flops.

Levi grabbed his arm before he could run up the stairs. “No, I get the first shower. There’s a raid starting in an hour and I want to login early.”

“Too bad, little bro,” Mammon wrenched his arm out of Levi’s grip. “Hierarchy says I get to go first since I'm older.”

“Really, Mammon, if that’s the case then I’ll be taking the first shower.” said Lucifer.

The three oldest brothers shared one of the mansion’s bathrooms, while the youngest shared another (minus Asmo, since Barbatos had set up a portal to his bathroom at the House of Lamentation). You had your own private bathroom as well, but you didn't mind letting the brothers use it from time to time. It seemed like that would be happening tonight if you ever hoped to have a peaceful dinner.

“One of you can use my bathroom tonight,” You left the three oldest brothers in the foyer to argue, now that an offer to use your bathroom was on the table. You needed some water, you were starting to get a headache, you’d probably had too much sun.

Beel was already in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something. Belphie was nearby, sitting at the kitchen island as he rested his cheek on the cool marble counter.

“We’ll have dinner soon, Beel, I just need a drink of water and I’ll get started cooking.”

Beel tossed you a water bottle before grabbing one for himself.

“Can I have a snack while I wait?” He bit into a nectarine, coming to lean against the counter.

“Well you’ve already started.” You teased. You took a long drink of water, mentally checking off all the ingredients you’d need to start dinner. Hopefully one or two of the brothers would agree to assist you, it would go much faster with help.

Beel rolled his cool water bottle against his neck, “I think I missed a spot when I reapplied my sunscreen,” he said. “Can you take a look for me?”

“Sure,” you slipped off the sunglasses you were still wearing as Beel turned around for you. “Oh, Beel I think-”

A blood-curdling scream tore through the mansion.

“Wha-” Belphie woke with a start.

You took of running upstairs, towards the source of the scream. You and the twins were the last to arrive at Asmo’s bathroom.

Asmo threw himself into your arms. “Oh, MC! I’m hideous!” He began to cry. His face was red everywhere except where his sunglasses had been, leaving a white impression of their shape behind, “I don't know how you can bear to look at me!”

“Asmo, you’re not hideous,” You stroked his hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“I’m not?” He sniffed.

“Not at all, you’re just a little…” You trailed off as you looked around the room. Lucifer, Levi, Satan, Beel, and Belphie (in addition to Asmo) were all severely sunburned. Several of them had already begun to shift uncomfortably. “You’re all-”

“MAMMON WHAT DID YOU DO?” Satan roared. Judging by the dark aura surrounding him, he was about to shift into his demon form.

“Wha’da’ya mean, what did I do?” Mammon ran to hide behind you for protection.

“Clearly this is your fault,” he seethed, the aura beginning to dissipate a little since you were in front of him, but his eyes were on Mammon, “We’ve been cursed, you probably wronged some Human World witch and now we’re all paying for it.”

“While that does sound like something he’d-” Lucifer began.

“You’re not cursed,” said Mammon, cutting him off. “You just have a sunburn.”

Satan paused. “You're saying this happened because we were outside in the sunlight?”

“Yeah,”

“Is this true, MC?” He looked at you.

You nodded, “It happens to some humans, too.”

“I did remind you to reapply your sunscreen earlier, Satan.” said Lucifer.

Satan growled. “I didn't think it would actually do anything. I’ve never had a sunburn before.” You noticed the new freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. He would have looked so adorable if not for the anger glowing in his eyes.

“Really?” Beel asked.

“Me and Beel and Asmo used to get sunburned all the time when we snuck down to the Human World.” said Belphie.

“That was before sunscreen existed,” Asmo added. “I would never go out without putting it on now. Earlier I just–” He burst into tears again.

Belphie ignored him, continuing to talk to Satan, “You’ve been here a fair amount and it’s never happened?”

“I’m typically summoned to the Human World at night.” Satan answered flatly. “As are most demons, I’d wager.”

“Satan, your poor, virgin skin!” Asmo sobbed.

“My what?”

“Did anyone remember to reapply?” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling that even he hadn’t remembered after the water fight, and then he’d even removed his rash guard, exposing himself further.

“I remembered, and I also put some on Belphie’s face,” said Beel. “But we got burned anyway,”

“What sunscreen did you use?” You asked.

“This one I got from Mammon,” Beel handed you his bottle of sunscreen. You read the label, it was 20 years past its expiration date and the brand name was misspelled.

You shot Mammon a look over your shoulder.

“Must’a got mixed up with my newer stock– uh, purchases.” he lied.

You looked around at the demons in front of you. All six of them were varying shades of red. Satan and Levi seemed to be in the worst condition as they’d been in full sun for most of the day. Asmo, Lucifer, and the twins hadn’t fared much better despite taking advantage of the umbrella’s shade. You could feel the heat of Asmo’s skin on yours, plus more warmth radiating off of Satan. It had to be so painful.

Satan turned back to you and Mammon. “Why don't you two seem to be affected?”

“I don’t get sunburns,” Mammon smirked before ducking behind you again when Satan turned his glare on him.

“Father blessed him with a golden tan complexion,” Asmo pouted. “He was like that when we were angels, too.”

“And you, MC, are you immune like Mammon or do you have some sort of talisman against the rays of the sun?” Satan asked. “I don’t understand how a human could be unaffected when we are all suffering.”

“I don’t have any special talismans, I put on sunscreen before I went outside just like everyone else,” You looked down at your arms. You hadn't been sunburned at all, and you hadn't reapplied your sunscreen either. Your eyes caught on the gold ring you wore on your finger.

“You might have been protected by my Ring of Light,” Lucifer said with a small smile, echoing your thoughts almost exactly.

The others nodded. It was a very powerful magical relic.

“Well now that we've cleared that up,” Satan said through thinly veiled rage. “How long is this agony supposed to last? It feels like spiders are crawling all over my skin.”

You really didn't want to tell him. Judging by the severity of his sunburn it might be… “A week?” you said. “Sometimes it takes longer. But most of the pain occurs in the first few days or so.”

Satan looked like he was about to explode with rage or drown Mammon in the bathtub. Maybe both.

Lucifer cut in before he could do anything. “As we are demons, our cell turnover is faster than humans, which will shorten our recovery time. It will be about 48 hours until we fully heal, I’d estimate, but that also means we’ll be feeling the worst of it tonight.”

***

You sent the sunburned demons downstairs to the living room, directing them to ice their skin while they waited, so you and Mammon could collect supplies. The mansion was well-stocked thanks to Diavolo and Barbatos preparing it for you ahead of time, but only with Human World essentials. They had wanted you to feel right at home. You doubted the brothers kept very many potion ingredients in their rooms, and definitely not anything that could give relief from a sunburn.

You had Mammon fetch the first aid kit from the kitchen cabinet while you looked through Asmo’s and Lucifer’s skincare collections to see if they had any skin-soothing products. When you were finished, the two of you deposited your loot on the living room’s coffee table. Mammon had found a tiny tube of lidocaine cream, one packet of colloidal oatmeal, and a small jar of aloe gel. You’d come up with a bottle of unscented body lotion and two small tubes of expensive healing ointment; you’d also found a half-full bottle of demon-strength ibuprofen in Lucifer's things, which would definitely be needed to get through the next couple of days. These were your only supplies. You might be able to get the aloe gel to stretch between your six sunburn victims but it would be pretty scarce. As for everything else… you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

Asmo and Beel got started slathering healing ointment and lotion on Belphie who was whining in his sleep.

You scooped some aloe gel into your hand so you could administer care to Satan as Mammon did the same with Levi.

Satan started reciting cat poems under his breath as you rubbed the cool gel into his skin as gently as you could.

“MC, there’s a bottle of Demonus in the basement fridge.” said Lucifer. He sat next to you, his perfect posture rigid, as if moving at all would cause him immense pain. “When you have a moment, please go get it.”

“Demonus would be really nice right now,” Asmo hummed, pressing a generous amount of healing ointment onto his own cheeks.

You gave a sympathetic smile, “You both know that’s just going to dehydrate you and make your skin feel worse.”

You knocked two ibuprofen into Lucifer’s palm as consolation. He gave you a look, taking the bottle from you. He poured out four more into his hand and then passed the rest to Asmo.

SMACK

Levi screamed at the top of his lungs.

“MAMMON!” You and Lucifer yelled at the same time.

You rushed to Levi’s side only to see the perfectly white handprint of Mammon’s slap contrasting with his lobster red skin. Levi began to cry, inhaling a ragged breath as tears started streaming down his face.

“He insulted me after all I’m doin’ for him?” Mammon defended himself. “He called me a scumbag!”

“Go help Lucifer,” you snapped.

“Ok, ok, I’m goin’.”

Levi couldn’t catch his breath, his shoulders convulsing as his sobs came out in a silent cry. It was a bit disturbing.

You gently placed your hand on the handprint. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated.” A gold flash sparkled under your hand as you recited the spell. Levi slumped against your shoulder, breathing once more. For once, he wasn't embarrassed that his bare skin was touching yours.

“Are you ok?” you asked him.

He sniffed a few times, still shaking, “The pain from the slap is gone but my skin still feels like it’s on fire,” he said, wiping away a tear.

You had a feeling the healing spell wouldn't be strong enough. It had been worth a try, though.

“MC,” Satan called your attention from the other side of the couch. “The aloe gel has dried and the infernal itching has returned.” He squirmed in his seat.

“Here, try this,” Mammon slid an ice pack over Satan’s shoulders.

“THAT’S MAKING IT WORSE!” Satan tore the ice pack from Mammon’s hands, throwing it at his face and knocking his sunglasses off.

“Ow!” Mammon rubbed the red mark just beginning to bloom on his cheek.

You sighed. This was proving more difficult than you’d expected. There wasn’t enough aloe gel to apply on each brother twice. You needed to come up with a solution.

“Is there any chance we can use a duplication spell on this?” You slid the jar to Mammon, who was still holding his cheek in pain.

He picked up the jar and scanned over the ingredients list. “There’s too much stuff in here, between the two of us we might end up with somethin’ similar but there’s also a chance it’ll make everything worse. I ain’t Lord Diavolo.”

You looked at the dwindling supplies on the table. Asmo and Beel had already exhausted the first tube of healing ointment. “That means we can’t duplicate any of that, either?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m hungry,” Beel complained.

Right. Everyone still needed dinner.

Lucifer handed you his credit card before Mammon had a chance to register what was happening. “Just buy anything we need. Supplies, takeout, I really don’t care right now.” He picked up the tube of lidocaine cream and squeezed the entire contents into his hand, rubbing half of it into his own chest and the other half into Satan’s shoulders.

Well, that certainly made things easier. You turned on an animated movie for them to watch while you and Mammon went to the kitchen. You picked a random takeout menu that was stuck to the fridge and ordered meals for everyone, and Mammon sat at the island and searched Akuzon for sunburn relief products on his D.D.D.

“Does Akuzon even deliver to the Human World?” You asked as you hung up the phone.

“They do for demon lords,” said Mammon as he added another item to the cart. “Levi pays for the premium shipping rate so they deliver anywhere.”

“You’re using Levi’s account?”

“Got locked outta mine…”

You sat next to him, helping him choose the best products to heal his brothers’ damaged skin. Lots of aloe gel and healing ointment, analgesic products too. You also purchased a balm that was supposedly infused with magic to speed up the healing process. The bill would be several hundred Grimm but you didn't think Lucifer would mind, considering the circumstances.

“We got three hour delivery, we just gotta keep ‘em happy ‘till then.” said Mammon.

“NO!” Asmo shrieked from the other room, right as the doorbell rang.

“That’s probably the food,” Mammon sighed, “Do you wanna find out what Asmo’s problem is or should I?”

You pressed your hand to your heart, your pulse still racing from being startled. “It would be better if I went to him,” You were less likely to start a fight between the brothers just by entering the room.

Mammon went to answer the door while you returned to the living room.

“Is everything alright?” You asked tentatively.

“Everything is not alright,” said Asmo. “How dare those disgusting eels tip over their boat, Ariel was just about to get her true love’s kiss!”

You breathed a sigh of relief. It was just about the movie.

“Mmm, eel…” Beel was almost drooling.

“Would the kiss have even worked?” Satan mused. “How could it be true love, Eric just barely learned her name and they’ve known each other for two days.”

“I wonder,” you smiled.

“Come sit with me, darling,” Asmo pulled you onto the couch between him and Lucifer, nuzzling into you, his skin still feverishly warm, “This movie is wonderful. Have you seen the sea witch’s makeup? I should try something like that for fun, don’t you think? It’s such an iconic look.”

They all seemed really into it, which left you pleasantly surprised. Satan was trying to figure out if the story would end the bittersweet way the original fairytale did, Lucifer argued that it wouldn't be appropriate for a children’s movie to end tragically; their conversation was very lighthearted and almost academic. Levi was using his tablet to draft cosplays of various characters from the film, asking you who you wanted to be. Beel was commenting about all the fish he’d like to eat every time they appeared onscreen, while Belphie hummed along to the score. Mammon brought in the food and then everyone was glad to eat while finishing the movie.

There wasn't a dry eye as the credits rolled after Ariel finally got her happy ending with her prince. Not even yours. A mermaid leaving her family to live with her true love in another realm, the irony wasn't lost on you.

“That was great,” said Mammon, dabbing at a tear with a handkerchief, “Should we watch another?”

Belphie’s shoulders shook as he cried quietly.

“What's wrong, Belphie?” Beel asked as all eyes turned to the youngest.

“M-my skin st-still h-hurts,” he hiccuped.

You were worried about that. They’d all been distracted by the movie for a while, the pain was bound to kick in once it ended.

“I’m starting to feel it again, too.” Lucifer popped a few more ibuprofen capsules.

“How much longer until the delivery, Mammon?” You asked.

He checked his D.D.D. “They’re a hundred stops away, should get here by ten.”

“That's two and a half hours from now,”

The brothers began to complain. You didn't blame them, they were still suffering, but it was starting to give you a headache on top of the one you already had. You needed to placate them and clearly Disney movies weren't enough.

They'd used up all of the supplies, the empty containers littering the table. All that was left was the packet of colloidal oatmeal. You picked it up.

Ingredients: Colloidal oatmeal 100%

“Everyone upstairs to Asmo’s bathroom,” you instructed. You took Mammon by the wrist and led him to the kitchen.

“Now what?” He asked.

“This has only one ingredient,” You held up the packet.

“So we can duplicate it. Good idea, MC!”

Mammon helped you locate a large mixing bowl and you emptied the packet into it. You both waved your hands over the bowl, reciting the duplication spell in unison. You had to repeat the spell six times to have enough for what you needed to do.

When you got upstairs, the brothers were all standing around the bathroom looking very uncomfortable, Asmo had already started filling the tub.

“Everyone needs to strip,” you tossed each of them a towel.

The room broke out in half-hearted groans. You were sure if their faces weren't so red from sunburn, most of them would have been blushing.

“It’s nothing I haven't seen before,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“What?” Mammon’s gaze shot to you.

“Nothing…” you gave an innocent smile.

Mammon crossed his arms, muttering something to himself.

“I c- I can’t strip in front of my brothers!” Levi whined.

“It’s no different than bathing at the hot springs,”

“Yeah but I usually–”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you really in a position to be complaining, Leviathan?”

“N-no…” Levi sniffed.

“MC, look over here, ” Asmo cooed, winking. “I can strip for you, like a good boy.” He swayed his hips, dropping the towel from his shoulders. “Doo doo-doo doo-doo doo doo doo,” he was singing his own sexy background music.

You just stared at him.

Asmo bent down, giving you what was supposed to be a sensual smile, his lips curved wobbly and his eyes were hazed with pain and unshed tears as he moved. But the show must go on, as they say. “Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” He tossed his hair, sliding his hands to the waistband of his swim shorts, beginning to roll them down. “Touch me, tease me, feel me– AHH!” He screamed as the fabric brushed against his inflamed skin.

“Asmo!”

His swim shorts dropped to the ground unceremoniously, as he writhed in pain. Everywhere the shorts had previously covered was porcelain white. He squeaked, picking up the towel to cover himself. This was not how he wanted you to see him.

The others followed suit in a less dramatic fashion, all stripping out of their swimwear, some more bashful than others for being naked in front of you. You and Mammon dumped the contents of the bowl into the tub, allowing the running water to mix it around.

“Get in,” you said.

And they obeyed.

There was just enough room for the six of them to fit in the tub comfortably. They all relaxed in the warm water, their skin finally feeling soothed. They were quiet. Belphie fell asleep right away, and Satan’s eyes no longer glowed with barely concealed rage.

You sat down on the padded bench next to the tub, your muscles untensing at last, Mammon passed you a water bottle and a single demon-strength ibuprofen, just enough for a human headache.

“Thanks,” you took it, sinking deeper into the bench’s soft cushion.

“I’m gonna go put some music on,” he said.

“Sure, go ahead,” You said, your eyes slipping closed.

When Mammon returned with the portable speaker, you were fast asleep.

“Shh…” said Lucifer.

Mammon set the speaker down and lifted you into his arms.

“Thank you, MC,” the brothers each whispered as Mammon carried you off to your bedroom for a well-deserved rest.

“Sleep well,” said Mammon.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[shiikiyun]

people into the heavily symbolic media when the media is heavily symbolic

im sorry but ill just never buy into this narrative. you dont have to agree with me when i say i forgive him or talk about the sympathetic traits i find in him but on this case i just cannot be swayed and im not taking talk backs. it doesnt make sense for his character nor for the story and theres a very easy very interesting interpretation of that frame anyway (he sees the funeral from the outside through his phone because his crime was entirely online and, unlike the other characters, there isnt a set location for anything pre/during/post murder. cause it was in his phone)

and on a personal opinion. taking this so literally and SWEARING up and down he physically showed up to the girl's house kind of defeats the whole point of his themes. every character has set themes and a societal problematic they represent (haruka- child neglect, the result of abandoning and outcasting someone from society all their life. shidou- dubious medical decisions, the ethics of very specific situations in the medical field. mikoto- overworking and masking, the consequences of a society that forces its people to conform to a norm, etc) and futa's is the mob mentality and shield enforced by social media that can easily corrupt anyone at all no matter how pure or noble their initial intentions/morals are. its about the twitter users that will kickstart harrassment campaigns before fact checking or over the most innocuous things (see: kpoptwt currently making up the most gross allegations en masse about the group lesserafim because of a made up rivalry with their label mate newjeans). if futa breached that line between online and real life by physically showing up to his victim's house (be it before or after the fact) the initial themes fall apart. cause then he's dangerous in. real. life.

at that point, what story do we want to tell? why is it that we need futa to be this horrible when his actions online are enough for people to be unable to forgive him? lets sit back for a second and question ourselves on the reason we have to turn him into a creep and believe he became a threat in real life to justify disproving his actions. why we cant simply judge him from his online behavior, that caused much harm than he couldve done in a face-to-face argument. cause that is the excuse people online will use. theyre not hurting anyone in real life, so why should their posts online define their character?

pd: you can bring up the fact that his professor situation was in real life. and youre correct. but that part of the story can easily be placed as the only needed merge of realities for his case: he didnt actually confront the professor, the university isnt as private of a place as a family house so he still has some anonimity (he made the post, but who took the picture? u could not tell if he did it himself or got it from other sources, we just know bc we saw it). not to mention it still correlates: hes brave through the screen, but a complete coward in the flesh. he took a picture of the scene whilst hiding and did nothing to stop it. as much as denouncing the professor is a good thing (and the only good thing he does in the mv), he was still a coward. as ive already explained, mixing the online actions with forced real life ones in the actual murder case he has misses this point

[jewish-vents]

My Anti-Social Personality Disorder is helping me cope with the spike in antisemitism - I've been told I'm not a person, I don't have a soul, people like me shouldn't be allowed to have kids, I should be euthanized, everything someone with ASPD does is secretly evil or manipulative and every person who sucks secretly has ASPD, etc. - but it's not helping me with the one thing I need it to. I need to protect my great-grandmother, my only living relative, the one who raised me after my parents died, who fought tooth and nail to get me out of the foster care system. I need to shield her from all this bad news and make sure she doesn't realize how violent and dire things are. She always protected me. I have to do the same for her. I have to keep her happy for however long she has left on this Earth.

I love her more than anyone or anything in the world. I would take a bullet for her if I had to, but antisemitism is more like a sea of landmines that keep detonating all around us. I try to get out in front of everything. I buy her silky summer scarves because she loves them and they cover up her Magen David. Instead of going to the summer music festival here, which I know attracts a lot of country good ol' boy white supremacists on top of the left wing antisemites, I bought us tickets to a classical violinist she's a huge fan of. She asked about my girlfriend breaking up with me and instead of telling her about how antisemitic my ex is I blurted out a truth I've been hiding for years, which is that I'm asexual but not aromantic and that's made dating hard sometimes. I've sought out, downloaded and burned DVDs of all kinds of her favorite movies from the black and white era so she'll be distracted away from her time spent normally watching the news by that. In spite of my dyslexia, I've recommitted myself to learning Hebrew because she helps me and that pulls her attention off of the news and the realities I don't want her to face.

And yet it's not enough. More and more of the news of antisemitism rising around the world filters through to her. I'm doing everything I can but it's not enough. I am not enough. I am insufficient. ASPD comes with being acutely aware of your own high intelligence but what no one ever tells you is, to quote an anime I watched recently, "You can't recover from something you can't escape." There's too much for me to shield her from all of it.

I'm used to being treated as if my personhood is conditional and can be revoked at any moment. That's my whole life. That was not her whole life. She's a survivor of the Shoah. Her whole life has been spent seeing progress made in antisemitic attitudes in many countries after witnessing the worst it could get. My brain is uniquely (mal)adapted to process and disregard people's cruelty as normal. Hers is not. She expects people to have humanity. They don't. And I can't protect her from that. I can't save her. I can't keep this from creeping into her spectrum of awareness.

Sometimes I wonder why Hashem even bothered giving me heightened intelligence if I can't manage to use it correctly to help her. What is it good for? What is it worth?

Sometimes I think this must be a skill issue. If I just tried harder, surely, with my IQ, I could keep her safe and oblivious to everything. I need to be doing more. But what?

Sometimes I just look at goyim and - and I am aware this is not something you're supposed to admit to/is bad, I just don't care - I think, "I hope someday someone treats you exactly like you've treated others. I hope you get back exactly what you've put out into the world, and you get as little sympathy and help in that moment as my great-grandmother is getting right now."

I'm so sorry you're dealing with this. If you haven't already, I strongly recommend that you reach out to your local Jewish community. If you don't have one, or you for any reason don't feel comfortable with the local community, seek out community online.

There is only so long that you can shield your great-grandmother from the world. I understand the urge; we all have it, but no one has the power to keep their loved ones from ever being hurt.

What you can do is support her through the pain, and find other people who will help support her.

This will not be the first time your great-grandmother has experienced antisemitism. She may be better equipped to handle it than you fear.-🐞

[smolthealmighty]

Spinaraki Week 4 Day 1: Game Over & History

And For a Little While

A select few snippets in which Spinner looks at Shigaraki's eyes during the course of knowing each other and slowly falls in love... or a self-indulgent songfic based on Space Age Love Song.

I saw your eyes

And you made me smile

For a little while

I was falling in love

His eyes were ruby red. Spinner already knew they were red once he first met Tomura Shigaraki, but he didn’t know the best way to describe them before now.

Before Shigaraki had brought out the game console and started playing Super Smash Bros.

Before Spinner asked to play and was handed a controller.

Before Spinner countered Shigaraki’s Instant Delayed Reverse Ariel Rush with his own Perfect Shield, shocking the both of them so severely that they immediately stopped playing and instinctively whipped their heads to look at each other, causing the hand on Shigaraki’s face to fly off from the momentum and land on the other side of the room.

Before Spinner had finally seen Shigaraki unmasked for the first time, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Spinner was sure his face had the same expression.

“Holy shit.”

Spinner couldn’t help it, he burst into laughter at the first words to come out of Shigaraki’s stupefied mouth, the same words he probably would’ve said if he’d gained access to his brain back first. Shigaraki was quick to pout as he pivoted into lightly teasing Spinner.

“Here I was thinking you were all brash attacks and zero defense, but no! Apparently, you can put up a great strategic defense as long as it’s gaming related!”

“It’s not that strategic,” Spinner responded shyly as he tried holding in his giggling, “It’s impressive that you added that delay to mess with your opponent’s attack timing. I just happened to recognize that timing and countered it accordingly.”

“I’ve used that move to catch other players off guard multiple times, and I think you’re the only one who’s thwarted it on the first try!”

If Spinner wasn’t stunned before he was now, and to his even greater shock Shigaraki seemed to identify why. “You look like this is the first time you’ve ever had a compliment,” he guessed, and all Spinner could do was slightly nod once in confirmation.

“Well you deserved it.” Shigaraki stated, “and just so you know, you’ve been officially assigned the role of my ‘Personal Player 2’. I’ve been meaning to try more co-op games and I refuse to play them without someone who already matches my skill level.”

Spinner’s brain needed a minute to buffer, but once his mind was back online he flashed a grin, large enough to slightly ache from how rarely he used those facial muscles for that expression, and un-paused the game.

~

I saw your eyes

And you touched my mind

Although it took a while

I was falling in love

His eyes were that of a young boy chasing his dreams. They had been so since they defeated Overhaul, and shone twice as bright now. Not even the remaining bandages littering his face from Re-Destro’s fight could stop his eyes from gleaming. Though that extra glimmer may have been Spinner’s own doing.

“You really thought the horizon I made was pretty?” Tomura asked, half in disbelief and half in amusement.

“No,” Spinner corrected, “I said the horizon you made was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, there’s a difference.”

They were chilling in Tomura’s room, the elegant bed covered in crumbs and wrappers and the feather-filled pillows haphazardly strewn around from their efforts to get comfortable for the six-going-on-seven-hour gaming binge of the new releases they hadn’t been able to buy while broke. Spinner didn’t know what exactly possessed him to blurt out his thoughts on the destroyed horizon, but he figured Tomura should know that he made a permanent impression on his mind and heart with that sight.

“So,” Tomura deviously suggested, “what you’re saying is I should make more of that, yeah?”

Spinner snorted at that, but realized Tomura was serious when he continued, “Because I can, you know, if you want me to.”

Spinner hummed as he thought of a good response, and what he finally said was, “Well, I’m certainly not gonna stop you. I want what you want, and as long as I can help you achieve that goal then I’ll be happy.”

“What a roundabout answer,” Tomura chuckled, “but alright, if that’s what you want then I’ll make it happen. And I’m thankful… that you’re sticking by my side I mean.”

Spinner didn’t have the right words to respond to that, to tell Tomura that he was glad that he had stuck around long enough to understand what Tomura’s goal was and what he could do, even if it took some hard times to get there. So, he simply smiled and hoped that would convey what his vocabulary couldn’t. That he was thankful too. The soft affection in Tomura’s eyes, something he’d been seeing more often than not these days, said that he understood.

~

I saw your eyes

And you made me cry

And for a little while

I was falling in love

His eyes were blank. Hell, they weren’t even his eyes anymore. Now those eyes, body, and mind belonged to and were controlled by the century-old megalomaniac who found him on the streets. Tomura was hidden, maybe even gone, and it felt like Spinner’s heart had disappeared along with him.

The aching was intense. Unlike the numbing, hollow ache he experienced in the isolation of his old room, this pain was a continuous swelling. It was as if the ache had tried to take up every unfilled crevice in himself and still could not be contained, leaking out like an endlessly bleeding wound. Where once was utter emptiness, now was overwhelming abundance, and it hurt.

Nothing he did could inhibit it. Attempting to soothe the being that was once Tomura Shigaraki as he writhed in agony did nothing but remind Spinner that he could do nothing to truly help his first friend, but avoiding him doubled the hurt he felt. He had to do something to help, anything to assist him, whatever it took to achieve his friend’s initial goals and hopefully bring him back. He’d do anything to see those eyes look fondly at him again.

‘Oh’, Spinner thought as All for One reached out his hand and covered his vision, bestowing what was sure to be too many quirks for his body to handle, all for Tomura’s sake. ‘It’s no wonder I’ve been aching while he’s gone, no wonder I’ve been yearning for him.’

I was falling in love

‘I was falling in love with Tomura Shigaraki.’

Falling in love

‘We were falling in love as we bonded in those barren hideouts and luxurious manors.’

Falling in love

‘I’ve fallen in love and didn’t… realize it until I…   lost it…’

Falling in love

‘I…     had…              fallen…                       in…                                         love…’

[mountingpulisic]

ANOTHER THING COMING

a/n : requested by anon, i hope you enjoy it! i also got the gif from enzofernandezs

christian, your christian, was photographed leaving a bar with a stunning brunette following close behind, hand gripping his forearm.

you turned your phone numerous ways to try and see the photo at a different angle, an angle where it didn’t look as if christian was caught cheating on you. he always told you not to believe what the media portrayed, saying that they had a way when it came to making something out of absolutely nothing.

however, you couldn’t help but to think how they didn’t have to work hard to make up a story for a picture that spoke a thousand words. 

dropping your head into your hands, you couldn’t help but to feel foolish. 

you had always feared that you weren’t good enough for the lifestyle that christian led, not feeling comfortable with all the attention that came with dating a footballer. 

your phone lit up next to you, displaying a photo of yourself and christian at new years, signaling he was calling. you figured he probably caught wind of the photos that circulated online, the article had been officially released for an hour now. 

not wanting to speak to the midfielder, you sent him to voicemail and decided to run yourself a bath. 

potter couldn’t have picked a more preferable day to have training run over the regular three hour mark?

this was christian initial thought when his coach announced to the team that they would be practicing for an additional two hours, wanting them to work on their form with the new signees. any other day, he would’ve agreed, the team lacked chemistry. 

however, today, he didn’t particularly care. 

christian knew you saw the articles that leaked out his alleged “affair”, he hoped you knew him well enough not to buy into the chaos. yet, you weren’t answering his calls and he feared the worst. 

as soon as they were dismissed, christian was fleeing out of stanford bridge and on his way to your apartment, silently thanking the man above for allowing him to speed through traffic without getting a ticket. 

hurriedly climbing the steps that lead to your front door, christian began pounding loudly.

you didn’t realize how much time had passed as you sat in the bathtub, intrusive thoughts clouding your head about the article.

how long was he cheating on you?

where did he meet her?

did he even love you? 

loud pounding snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to get up and dry yourself off, making your way towards the sound. 

before you could reach the door, christian took it upon himself to use the key you had given him to open the door; growing impatience waiting. 

“it’s not true, the article is a load of bullshit y/n.” christian justified, taking a few steps towards you. 

you took the same amount of steps back, not wanting him to touch you. christian’s expression fell when he noticed how you recoiled. 

“you believe me don’t you? that i would never do that to you?” christian stuttered, you had to believe him.  christian thought the two of you were better when it came to the lies that were constantly spread on the web, that your relationship was built with better defense against childish rumors. 

your silence caused him to begin to panic, frantically searching your eyes, to pick up any emotion you were giving off; although he was just left with a stoic face staring back at him. you had your arms wrapped securely around yourself, as if you were shielding yourself from him. 

“i want to believe you, i want to be able to laugh this off and move on from it but i can’t.” you were beginning to get teary eyed, the photos constantly being displayed in your mind when you would close your eyes. 

“y/n, she’s just a friend, i wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“like how you wouldn’t lie to me about going out with mason and ben that night? the same night those pictures were taken?” 

christian felt as if you physically had slapped him, you were questioning his judgment of character at this point. he was out with his friends, he ran into her at the club, her being a childhood friend of his sisters, a childhood friend who had a boyfriend. going to speak, he was cut off with you raising your hand for him not to. 

“I think it's best if you just leave, because as i stand here and look at you, i can’t help but to picture you and her together.” the tears were now rolling onto your cheeks, you wiped them off with your palms, you didn’t want to cry in front of him. 

“she’s just a frie-” christian tried to interject but was met with you raising your hand yet again for him to be silent. 

“I took it upon myself to pack your things that were laying around, they are in the box by the door.” you signaled to the area were all of christian’s belongings were neatly placed. “you can drop my stuff whenever you get the chance.” 

walking to the door, you opened it for him and waited for his departure. 

his feet felt stuck to the floor as he watched tears leisurely spill down your face. christian couldn’t believe this was happening, that in a matter of twenty-four hours his life as he knew it was over. not wanting you to cry anymore, christian bent down to retrieve the box and make his way out of the door. 

one foot followed the other before you had called out his name, he was halfway down the hall. a sense of relief washed over him, glad that you had come to your senses, that he’d never do that in a million years to you. 

“m-my key please.” you were holding out your palm for him to place his key, christian could’ve screamed at that moment. 

shuffling his way back towards you, he removed it from his key ring, but he wasn’t quick to place it down onto your palm. twirling it in his fingers, christian couldn’t fathom the fact that this was how his three-year relationship was coming to an end. 

he felt as if he was in a game of jenga and the article had pulled out a block that was crucial to the foundation of your relationship. 

kissing your cheek softly, christian placed the key in your hand and took a mental screenshot of your face at this exact moment, vowing to himself to never make you feel this way again. 

If you thought that christian was going to let you go that easy, you had another thing coming.

part two

[vendetta-if]

Vendetta Interactive Side Story - Halloween Special 🎉

Hey guys 👋 The Halloween Special Interactive Side Story is finally done! 🎉 I know it's a bit late 😅 But this is the very first ever Interactive Side Story I've made for 'Vendetta'.

It turns out longer than I first expected, reaching a word count of around 19K words excluding commands (that's really close to a major-update worth of content!).

It's a really cute and wholesome and fluffy story about little MC, Ash, and Rin celebrating Halloween together with Viktor, Takashi, Luka, and Cara. You'll have three Halloween costumes to choose from, which will also affect Ash's and Viktor's costumes. There will also be four different activities to choose from for the Halloween Fair and a bunch of smaller interaction options!

Since it is a reward that I promised the Patrons for reaching the second goal over on Patreon, the full story will be available to be played by all tiers of Patrons! 😄 So, if you guys are interested, please check out my Patreon page!

Patreon Link

I'll also put a little sneak peek and snippets below the cut! 😁

Note: ${ash_he}, ${ash_him}, ${ash_his} are just all variables for Ash's pronoun, the same thing with Rin's and MC's also. So, whenever they pop up, just feel free to replace them with the proper ones in your head if you want to. And ${lname} is the surname that Viktor and MC use. 

If you choose the Knight costume.

It's the day you've been waiting for all month long and your body is thrumming with barely-held excitement. What day is it? It's the day of the Halloween celebration, and just like all the previous years, you're going to go trick-or-treating with your bestest friend ever, Ash. But what makes you even more excited is that Rin Aikawa, the ${rin_son} of both your dad's and uncle's friend, is going to be joining you.

Since it's Saturday, you've spent the whole day hanging out with Ash and making final touches for both of your costumes. Like every year, you and Ash once again coordinate your costumes. 

This year, you decide to dress up as a loyal and chivalrous knight sworn to your dad and Ash will be the dragon that you'll valiantly vanquish! For a moment, ${ash_he} also wanted to become a knight like you, but it doesn't take long for Ash to change ${ash_his} mind. You can't blame ${ash_him}. Dragons are cool as heck and ${ash_his} pyrokinesis is just too fitting. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit jealous.

The both of you have spent a week and a half obtaining and customizing your costumes, trying to perfect them. And earlier today, you managed to finish making the coat of arms for House $!{lname}. You designed it yourself and made a few copies out of card stock papers. Granted, your dad helped you cut out the design and clean up the mess after. But still, you are really proud of your work!

Standing in front of the full-body mirror in your room, you scan your costume. You're wearing a long-sleeved silvery-gray shirt that is meant to mimic the look of chainmail. A red and black tunic is draped over it; the tunic comes down to the middle of your thighs with a black belt cinching it on your hips. Sadly, you and your dad lack the creative ability to create your own knight costume, so you ended up having to buy a ready-to-use full-set costume online and it looks pretty good; it even came with the little plastic sword and shield.

You nod in satisfaction and pride at the state of your costume before glancing back up, looking into your own ${mc_eyes} eyes. Oh, you almost forget the headpiece! You stride over to your bed, snatching the silvery-gray balaclava; it is meant to look like a mail coif. You pull it over your head and face and adjust the mail coif balaclava so it covers your ${mc_hair_length}, ${mc_hair_texture}, ${mc_hair} hair nicely until only wisps stick out.

Suddenly, a knock cuts through the silence of your room. Turning towards the door, you call out to let Ash come in.

"Hey $!{nick}! Are you ready? Rin and ${rin_his} father are here already," ${ash_he} says softly, standing in your doorway. $!{ash_he} is wearing a ready-to-use black and red, full-body, dragon costume, ${ash_his} wings flopping a bit as ${ash_he} shifts in place and ${ash_his} emerald eyes staring at you from the dragon's maw. $!{ash_he} ends up looking more adorable than frightening.

* * * * *

You turn your attention to Takashi and see that he really is wearing authentic-looking samurai armor, the helmet is held in the crook of his arm and there's even a katana slung on his left hip. You wonder if the katana is real or only a prop. Maybe you can ask him later on.

Whatever conversation that your dad and Takashi are having is tapering off. Takashi glances at your dad from head to toe, cheeks slightly flushed. He clears his throat awkwardly before asking, "Dressed up as a king this year, huh? It's a fitting outfit for you. And the black doublet actually looks nice, although a bit stiff."

"Oh, thank you," your dad chuckles and rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Well, it was $!{nick}'s idea since ${mc_he} @{mc_plural want|wants} all three of our costumes to be coordinated." He gestures at you and Ash. "Also, this doublet is actually more comfortable to wear than it looks."

Suddenly, Takashi grins and his eyes glint mischievously. "Your Majesty, I do hope you still have a vacant position among your knights for me. I would like to swear fealty to be one of your loyal knights and protectors." He bows theatrically.

You and Rin gasp aloud together. "No! I'm my dad's only knight and protector!" You kick your little legs in protest.

Rin jumps down the sofa and walks over to ${rin_his} father before hitting him on the thigh repeatedly with ${rin_his} little fists. "Otousan! You already swore to be my samurai!"

Takashi laughs boisterously before bending down and hoisting his ${rin_son} up onto his broad shoulders.

*if (rin_gender = "male") "I'm only joking, my love. Of course, you're the only daimyo I'm loyal to."

*if (rin_gender = "female") "I'm only joking, my love. Of course, I'm sworn only to you, hime-sama."

Rin clings to ${rin_his} father's head, still pouting a bit but pacified for now.

Viktor smiles softly before taking a step towards you and patting your head fondly. "Hey baby, are you ready for trick-or-treating tonight?"

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: swearing, panic attacks,

AN: did I spend my entire work day in the customer service area of Amazon?…why are you asking?

I groaned as I flopped on the bed. Steve looked up from his book. I buried my head in the bedding and tried not to scream.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked, setting his book to the side. He leaned over and put his hand on my back.

“No.” I groaned, flopping over onto my back. Steve brushed some hair out of my face. “I spent eight hours today trying to get someone from this online store to figure out what the hell is wrong with my account. And when that didn’t work, it was two hours on the phone.” Steve hummed in response. “And I still have nothing to show for it. Retail fucking sucks.”

“Language.” Steve teased with a smile. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a pillow. Covering my face with it, I screamed as loud as I could. “So online store? Like Amazon?”

“How do you know about that?” He tugged the pillow off my face and leaned down over me.

“Nat.” Steve shrugged as he leaned down to kiss me. “She’s been teaching me some of the stuff I missed.” I nodded and moved to sit up next to him. “She doesn’t tease me like Tony and Clint do.”

“I don’t tease you.” I pouted. Steve nodded and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

“I know you don’t. But it shouldn’t be your job to teach me this stuff. It should be shields. Which means Nat.” I hummed as I moved to put my head on his shoulder.

“Technically.” He nodded. “Even if she basically left shield to become a full time avenger.”

“True.” Steve leaned his head on top of mine. “Anything I can do to help?” I shook my head the best I could.

“Get Tony to buy Amazon?” I joked. “Or better yet have JARVIS hack into it.” Steve laughed and wrapped his arm around me.

“You’d probably have an easier time if you asked him.” I laughed and curled into him more.

“I’ll talk to him later.” I mumbled. Steve picked his book back up.

“Want me to read to you?” I nodded against his chest.

“Please.” Steve leaned down and kissed me before picking up where he left off.

[ovyy-pvcure]

I've been left under stimulated again so even though the post didn't reach enough notes I'll still post the writing critique but I won't tag it. @furudolove was too curious and I'm too attached to the itch of the compliant to leave it unaddressed.

Ok, so background: the protagonist of the work in question is isekai'd to a fantastical game-like world with 3 other randos who are of no significance to this post. Our protagonist meets someone who agrees to be his teammate since due to the rules and restrictions of the (game) world he's found himself in can't meaningfully do damage (and the prior person who held his position gave it a bad name by terrorizing the kingdom [for all that slavery they were doing] so he's hard up for options). This person then gets the protagonist drunk steals his stuff and makes...claims against him. Brushing quickly past how I feel about that development our protagonist is left penniless lacking in allies and basicially helpless until he's approached by a slaver and decides to buy a 10 year old girl to fight for him since slaves can't lie to their master...because of magicial shock tattoos. Because our protagonist has lost his faith in others unless he can magicially compel their obedience (I mean he takes the nice male slave owner at his word but whatever) and this is NOT my compliant. This is clearly set up to be the protagonist's flaws making decisions that he knows are wrong, but gives in to due to weakness.

Earlier I said the fantasy world our protagonist got transported to is game-like and the important parts for understanding where I'm going with this is: this world has explicit exp, levels, upgrading weapons oh and when the race of people that little girl is levels up they physically mature. Like a pokemon except it's a shivering malnourished child who's obidence is kept via constant threat of inescapable electric torture. Look, I agreed not to complain about the protagonist owning a slave thing on the face of it I'm not here to downplay it.

All that background out of the way and with the understanding that slavery is morally wrong and the protagonist's growth should be measured by his ability to place trust in people without needing to hold all of the power and the author does the worst thing possible for the narrative: textual justification of slavery in-universe. Specifically the existence of Slave Experience and The Slave Shield which both give notable consistent passive boons to uhhh...human property. This singular writing choice in my mind entirely undercuts any defence of the series as it serves to entrench both the protagonist and the fanbase to defend slavery.

This is not a hypothetical either there are many online discussions where fans of the series will point out that these boons are why the protagonist needs to keep his slaves, and keep feeding and being a positive face. To. Slavery. To the machine of the slave trade. Worse, it means the protagonist not only doesn't have to cooperate with other independent individuals but only on his group of literal slaves for which he's rewarded his growth as a person in the narrative be damned.

Slavery was either never going to be an issue the author wanted to tackle or it became the series' "gimmick" as a "dark subversive isekai" and got stapled to it forever and so it got justified. Celeberated. Benefical actually to the slaves who grow up overnight to be nubile women who the protagonist personally raised just how he wanted before marrying her in the end. Just be a Good Slave Owner and reap endless benefits as the world distorts to justify your obsessive controlling misanthropy lest the teenage boys projecting onto the protagonist think they need to grow the fuck up and trust another person.

[thiscitylife]

Urban Renewal: How Simple Acts and Third Spaces can Reconnect Our Communities

Hi everyone! It's been a while, but I'm back with a new post to launch the Urban Renewal series. As we navigate this post-pandemic world, I've been pondering the idea of connection, particularly in our urban spaces. For the first installment of the series, I had the pleasure of chatting with fellow Vancouverite, Peg Fong, a journalist, author, and educator who launched a podcast and book during the pandemic titled, Alone Together, to explore the topic of loneliness in cities.

In our conversation, Peg shared her insights on how we can rebuild a sense of community.

The Simple Act of Walking

During the pandemic when we were mostly confined to our homes, the ability to stroll through the neighborhood and see other people was often our main source of face-to-face interaction.

"I live in Yaletown, a very walkable area of Vancouver, which was something I took for granted," Peg shared. “But during the pandemic it became so important to have these public spaces where we could walk and see other people around, even if we couldn't be together.”

Public spaces like parks and sidewalks became lifelines for connecting with others, reminding us that we weren't truly alone. However when the pandemic was over, many continued to stay home, preferring teleworking and shopping online to being out and about in their communities.

“I grew up in the Prairies and we always had community areas where people gathered, like after church or on the weekends, whether it was a local community center or hockey rink. I think we've lost some of that.”

With more people working from home and having food and goods delivered, we don’t have spontaneous interactions typically experienced when going to the office or the store. To make up for those lost connections, walking and spending time in public spaces becomes even more important to building community.

Activating Public Spaces

It’s not just about having more public spaces – it's about activating them. Imagine a public square with giant chess boards, live music, or pop-up markets. These kinds of events draw people in and create opportunities for spontaneous connection that might not happen otherwise.

You can build a great public space, but if there is no programming, people won’t come. North Vancouver’s Shipyards is a world-class example of how to design and activate a public space - with a massive waterpark (which transforms into a skating rink in the winter), a gorgeous view of the waterfront, shielded from the sun or rain by a vaulted ceiling; surrounded by Adirondak chairs; giant toys and games; an ice cream shop; restaurants; breweries; a stage playing live music; regularly programmed events including movies, night markets, and yoga classes; art galleries; a public market; hotels; shops; public transit; and a seawall - all within 100 metres.

In comparison, when I visited Vancouver’s central public space - Robson Square - during the pandemic, there was nothing going on except one tent trying to illegally sell marijuana baked goods. You can guess where most people would rather spend their time.

Third Spaces: More Than Just Coffee Shops

While discussing the benefits of walking and enjoying public spaces, Peg and I got on the topic of "third spaces." These are places that aren't homes or workplaces, but rather community hubs where we can gather, relax, and connect with others. Think of your local coffee shop, library, or even a dog park. These spaces are essential for fostering those spontaneous interactions with our neighbours that we may have lost during the pandemic.

Urban planning best practices suggest that every home should be within a 5-10 minute walk to a park, but we don’t talk about the importance of being able to easily walk to a coffee shop or corner store.

“I grew up in an apartment above a grocery store in Calgary. We had people buying groceries there, but also people sitting on the deck or stairs eating popsicles and enjoying drinks. It became a gathering spot in my neighborhood, but I never thought about how important it was to have those places until the pandemic shut so many things down.”

Many cities are recognizing how zoning bylaws limit the ability to build these third spaces in residential areas. This includes Vancouver, which has streamlined the permitting process, offering micro-business licenses and creating flexible zoning regulations to allow for more mixed-use developments that include housing and ground-level shops or cafés.

Safe Streets and Small Interventions

When people can safely use streets for active transportation like walking and biking around their neighborhood, they are more likely to get out of their homes and cars to interact with their neighbors, support local businesses, and socialize outdoors. Sometimes, the simplest interventions to make our streets safe, like crosswalks, four-way stops, bollards, and lighting, can have the biggest impact.

Peg shared a story about her relatives visiting from Bogota, Colombia, who were amazed to be able to walk safely under Vancouver’s overpasses. It's a reminder that even small details like well-lit walkways and wide sidewalks give people a sense of security while walking.

We also spoke about how small, low-cost interventions like adding more benches in our public spaces can build community. “One of my favorite episodes of the Alone Together podcast was about benches. They are special because they’re not just a place to sit, they’re spots available to anyone - that availability turns benches into opportunities for connections.”

“Benches are bridges between those eager to chat, and those wanting to just listen," said Peg. "When we sit on a bench, we’re indicating we’re part of a world that maybe we feel too lonely or afraid to fully participate in. Benches give us an opportunity to be engaged in our surroundings, whether it's observing from the side or opening up a chance for conversation.”

What Can We Do?

So, what can we do to rebuild our connections in a post-pandemic city? Here are a few ideas:

Support local businesses: Visit that new coffee shop, browse the farmers market, or check out a local art show. These activities help keep our communities vibrant and provide spaces for us to gather.

Get involved: Go to those local events in your community, or even volunteer to help organize one. Lobby your local government for safer streets and better public spaces. You might be surprised at how quickly you can connect with others who share your interests.

Start small: Organize a neighborhood gathering, strike up a conversation with someone on the bus, or simply offer a friendly smile to a passerby. "Even if that means, you know, checking in on our neighbors, asking if someone is doing ok." These small acts of kindness can go a long way in building a sense of community.

We all have a role to play in creating the kind of city we want to live in. According to Peg, "we have a responsibility to reach out to other people to make our communities a place where everyone feels connected."

[thejoyofseax]

A brief account of Pennsic 50

TLDR: Fantastic event, pity about the climate zone it's in.

Let me get that negative bit out of the way: I don't handle heat well, and Pennsic has absolutely punishing heat and humidity. I was basically unable to do anything useful between 13:00 and 17:30 on any given day (and right through the evening in the lower-lying lake-adjacent parts of the site). I tried to tough it out, but that didn't work, and I ended up sitting in the air-conditioned internet café for many of those hours through much of War Week. I didn't as much as see the battlefield, let alone the opening ceremonies, field battle, etc, because I would have just passed out on the field. As it was, I pretty much passed out on the day we were packing down because I was lifting and moving stuff in the heat, and couldn't go sit in the aircon. It was quite frustrating, and there was absolutely nothing that could be done about it.

So what I did do was go to classes in the mornings, do shopping at hours when I was able, and either hang out at our own camp, or go to various parties in the evenings.

The array of classes was downright incredible. There was no topic, as far as I could see, that was not touched upon at least. I went to about eight or ten in total, plus the sizable Arts & Sciences display. All of the classes I went to were food-related, and one of them, given by Magister Galefridus Peregrinus, jumped one of my longer-term projects forward by, I estimate, about two and a half years (it was about non-baking use of Fertile Crescent grains in Medieval Europe, and is relevant to my pre-Norman Irish Cooking stuff). I have good notes from many of the rest, too, and a raft of things to look up.

The shopping was also unbelievable. 200 stalls or so, and while some of them were more LARP or gamer-oriented, most were relevant. for myself, I got a basket-backpack of a kind I've been looking for for years, a pair of turnshoes, two small cast-iron pans, a new tooled leather belt, about six different kinds of smoked salt, various bits of Pelican bling, many metres of Drachenwald trim, and (appropriately) a very nice seax as a kitchen knife. Probably a lot of other stuff, too - I haven't unpacked yet - but those are the things that come to mind. I also bought a veritable pile of stuff for other people, and have taken note of a host of merchants for online buying later. There were some interesting gaps in the market, too - I would have thought that pre-strapped or bossed shields would be commonly available, and saw essentially none, and that there would be more period-ish cookware and camp equipment for sale (there was some, but not very much).

Speaking of cookware, it was notable how few camps had any period cooking arrangements. I saw some very impressive modern camp kitchen setups (the East Kingdom State Kitchen was essentially equivalent to the best indoor kitchens I've cooked in), but I saw precisely two period-ish kitchens, out of hundreds of camps (although I didn't see them all; that was just not possible). Given there were more than 11,000 people there, it was essentially not a thing that was done.

Some of the camps and buildings were terrifyingly fine, though. The Pleasure Pavilions were a set of absolutely beautiful tents, and Casa Bardicci is an actual miracle of construction. There were a varierty of other buildings, as well as gatehouses, ships, and so forth.

The social side of things is a slower burn. Putting faces to names, and meeting many of Nessa's fighting family was excellent, and there've been a number of conversations started that I think will go on for years (and a plot to try out various porridges on people with Baron Cormacc Mac Gilla Brigde). I also caught up with a number of people I haven't seen in years, and decades in some cases. I was particularly pleased to get to spend time properly with Duchess Qamar al-Nisa and Lady Alina Rose, who are two of my favourite people.

I expect I'll have some more thinking on various aspects of the event in time, and how some of the things there can be transferred to events here. I'd like to particularly note that climate aside, the site is fantastic, in terms of both geography and facilities. It also had fireflies and crickets, which made up for a lot.

[nscafe-firehose]

First, there I was going into grade 8 and had a medical issue that was very much bothering me and as such, I was going to a doctor regularly and they had happy face buttons at their reception. I usually grabbed one or two (or five) and kept one for myself but gave the others I acquired over time to friends who had asked for them... we had a happy face gang, so to speak. I was already wearing quilted flannel at that point and a happy face button decorated that until I got my duster.

Then during the same time frame (1991... but honestly could have 1992, I don't quite remember), I had heard "The White Room" album (on cassette, bought because the cover grabbed me so hard... could not resist) and listened to it a lot walking back and forth to and from school in grade 8. Then I read "The Illuminatus! Trilogy" in grade 10 (after previously "The Schrödinger's Cat Trilogy" a year earlier) and started getting into Discordianism around then (and also picked up The KLFs "Chill Out", it took me a while to figure out it came out before "The White Room")… AND then I got online regularly… this would explain why you saw my duster with a happy face button it throughout the rest of the 90s. In 1998 the anthology book "Disco 2000" came out with stories by both Bill Drummond and Robert Anton Wilson (for further details on why that's an interesting intersection involves how Drummond and Cauty met).

Then in 2012 I had tried to buy one of the not glitter versions of the shield but the price on the shipping put it just out of reach (currency conversion killed it)… then Cauty and Drummond put out the novel 2023 in 2017…. in 2022 I picked up the 12" of "It's Grim Up North" (killer!) and finally at the start of 2023 things worked out where we could try getting a shield again…. and after ups and downs we're finally here. Got the Glitter Smiley [Appropriated!] Riot Shield by the end of the year.

I do not currently have one of the old happy face buttons... but I just ordered a bag of 25...

(you are now a Discordian Pope, enjoy your hot dog)

[ahedderick]

Sunglasses

   I used to have a pair of wrap-around sunglasses that fit over my regular glasses. They also shaded the sides of my face, which was incredibly useful for driving; having bright sun streaming in the side window and blinding you is just as bad as too much light from the front. My husband told me they made me look like an old lady with an eye disease, which was tactless. True, but tactless. They broke years ago and I’ve never found a replacement. I decided to search online . . and struck completely-the-hell out.

   Ok, FIRST of all, what even is THIS

I . . I don’t have time to unpack . . but . . .  this came up in one of my searches in the top ten results, even though it dates from 2016 and was apparently written by Steve Buscemi after taking magic mushrooms?

   The other options I found were Amazon* (no), ETSY (why?) and a site called ‘Surpius’ which is Very Weird and also had no actual way to put any items in a cart to check out. Like - it had all the elements on the page that would usually mean “we are selling stuff” but there was no way to make a purchase.

Yes, my optician does have something like this, but it’s priced about ten times what it should be and I was hoping to do better.

   “Solar Shields are bae.” I am utterly at a loss to cope.

* also, when I went to Amazon just to look at them, I got bumped into Amazon’s Spanish version?? I’m not confident enough in Spanish to  do business in it, even if I did want to buy from Amazon.