#i don’t want to judge people for how they spend their money but why would you go on this sub if it wasn’t completely up to code

[1smolbean]

the whole “a submarine that costs 250k per ticket and is made up of cobbled-together parts that you can only open from the outside because it is secured by 17 deadbolts went missing while carrying several very rich people to tour the wreckage of the titanic, a ship that over 1500 (mostly working class) people died on, a ship whose wreckage should not become a tourist attraction because people fucking died there” situation that’s going on right now is just. so much in a way that i can’t really describe

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 1

His parents studied ghosts. Danny didn’t understand as a kid why everyone made fun of his parents. Now that he was 12, the thought was ludicrous and yet his parents continued their work on the portal. Danny had his sister Jazz though and the siblings were rather close. 

Jazz had spent a lot of time studying lately stating that she wanted to get into a good college. Danny understood he did, but being alone sucked and he couldn’t help it as he sighed kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. 

It was a nice hot summer day, the kind of day you’d want to spend at the beach or a pool. Danny however had other ideas. He was on the way to the local library. If Jazz was going to spend her summer studying for the ACTs then Danny was going to study what he wanted, Space. He quickly found a few books and got settled into a chair as he read. Space really was fascinating, he hoped one day his dream of becoming an astronaut would come true. 

An hour or so passed before Danny was interrupted, “what are you reading?” The voice started Danny out of his trance as he looked up at his interrupter. A boy about the same age as Danny with the same black hair and blue eyes that Danny had. His skin was more tan than Danny’s own pale white. 

Danny fidgeted in his seat for a moment before answering, “Astronomy: guide to the stars” Sure, Danny knew the text was college level but he already read all the ones for high and middle school. 

Damian seemed to hum thoughtfully with a hand on his chin before speaking again, “the book you're reading seems advanced, you seem smarter than your age would dictate. Father has requested that I visit the library and try to ‘make a friend or two’ in his words. I don’t see the need for companionship but if I must I’d rather it be with someone intelligent. My name is Damian.” It was a bit much but Danny guessed from what Damian said that he was complementing Danny. 

“Uh, Danny… I guess most of the people in my family are pretty smart.” He replied after a moment. 

Danny thought it was odd that someone wanted to be friends with him. Everyone at the public elementary school he went to knew who his parents were so they wanted nothing to do with him. It was lonely but Danny didn’t mind it too much, but Damian didn’t act like he knew Danny’s Parents. The thought of having a friend that didn’t judge him for who his parents were made Danny a little excited. 

“What occupation do your parents have?” It was a simple question with a not so simple answer. 

Oh, Danny’s heart stuttered a little bit at the thought of Damian knowing anything about. He didn’t want to lie, especially to his new friend but he didn’t want to tell him the truth. 

“Uh, they’re scientists but I don’t really know what they do…” Danny said carefully and slowly. He was sure Damian bought it. 

The two spent the next couple hours just talking in the library. It had started to get late and Damian needed to head back home. 

“Do you own your own phone?” Damian asked, it wasn’t uncommon, for most kids in his class had a cheap hand me down phone for emergencies. Danny unfortunately didn’t as his parents probably didn’t care where he was.

Danny shrugged, “not really, I could borrow my sisters but it really only gets used for emergencies.” 

Damian seemed to frown at this thinking for a moment before nodding as if he came to a conclusion, “my brother Todd has mentioned that it’s hard for low income houses to afford something I’d consider a necessity in this city. You do know how high the crime rate is, yes?” Danny nodded but he didn’t know what that had to do with having a phone Damian cleared his throat before continuing, “as you are now my friend I’d like to offer to purchase one for you.”

Danny hadn’t owned anything like a phone before, “a-are you sure? I don’t really need one, my parents don’t really… care?” He felt uncomfortable with his new friend spending money on him, Damian seemed like an important person especially with the clothes he wore and how he carried himself. Danny felt like he’d be taking advantage of his new friend if he bought Danny a phone. Danny closed the book he was holding and took a breath before speaking again, “I appreciate the offer but I wouldn’t have anything to offer you in return.” He let his gaze fall to the cover of the book, a swirling galaxy on a black background and bold yellow text. 

“I would not have offered it if I wasn’t sure.” Damian stated firmly causing Danny’s head to snap back up, “I do not need anything in return, however if you really intend to pay me back, Father has insisted that I bring a friend home sometime. Since we have established that we are friends I insist that you come visit every so often to, as Richard puts it ‘get him off my back’.” It sounded like a simple request but Danny was unsure. If Damian was someone important then his family was bound to be even more important. 

He took a moment to think about it, but Jazz would be happy Danny finally made a friend…

“Alright, I accept,” Danny said as they shook hands. It might have been a little childish but he could tell he made some sort of bond with Damian. 

After that they had quickly become friends. Once Danny had become accustomed to being in the Wayne house he basically became family, and was often visiting, especially to eat Mr. Pennyworths cooking. Mr. Wayne also seemed fond of Danny, he even offered to pay for Danny to go to Gotham Academy along with Damian. Danny had been hesitant at first but Damian quickly wore him down. Tim eventually wormed his way into the group as he and Danny bonded over the latest video game releases. Soon Jazz got roped into the group too as she started to visit the manor to get away from how noisy the lab got. 

A couple years had passed since the day that started the road to their friendship and the four of them had really bonded since then. Unfortunately their parents had finished the portal and its here where things go downhill for Danny.

In the next one Danny dies and all 4 of them are deeply traumatized.

Damian saw his dad doing research on the Fenton family, Bruce is just looking out for potential rouges and Damian took the opportunity to become friends with Danny. He figured that he could just bribe Danny into being his friend like all the kids at his school try but Danny is a lil cinnamon roll. Taken aback from how sweet Danny is Damian decided that Danny really was smart and worth being a friend. Tim has the same thoughts especially as Danny starts visiting the mansion more. Jazz loved that Danny had a spot to go where people seemed to actually care about him and she eventually gets dragged into the group. You can only drop off your brother at the Wayne’s so often before you get dragged into the group as well and I thought Tim and Jazz can be the same age and can bond over being older siblings.

[syntheticavenger]

Mr. March - Two

So the teaser has now turned into something else. Thank you for the ones who have enjoyed this story, I hope you like this next part!

Alpha! Bucky Barnes x Omega! Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language and that's about it.

Summary | Making fun of a friend for his new found fame is one thing, falling for a rule following librarian while balancing his own rise of attention is another.

Dinner for one never really bothers you.

Usually treating yourself to one indulgent night a week, you’ve almost forgotten the feel of the curious and sometimes sad stares, as if you were possibly stood up on a date. You’re free to order a bottle of wine and dessert, without any snide comments, paying your own check before you’re well on your way back home.

Tonight though, between the clink of wine glasses and utensils on expensive plates, you feel it – a weird sort of curiosity if this is sustainable. If you’re able to continue this narrative you’ve drawn out for yourself, having solo dinner dates and getting home by eighty on the dot, enough for you to unwind before bed, before you have to wake up to a new day of responsibility.

A slight push of the half empty wine glass and you’re ready to go, your dinner paid for and the looks of other patrons now fading from your purview, shrugging on your coat and checking your phone for the time.

You’ve ignored the last two texts from Janet, who sent you a picture of the books on hold, asking about why you’ve held books for Mr. March.

Mr. March.

You’ve seen the calendar that Janet had purchased at the beginning of the year, hidden in her desk because hanging it up would be a scandal. How a charity calendar got so famous is beyond you, dodging it every first of the month because people have never seen a good-looking man wearing next to nothing before. You didn’t need to purchase it. Why would you? What a waste of money that you could be spending on something else.

Like the houseplant that is barely hanging on by a thread that you seem to forget to water until you’re at work, silently cursing that you forgot, only to set a reminder on your phone that you silence when you stay at work too long.

You remember now, padding down the hallway of your apartment once you kick off your heels, picking up the plant to inspect it.

“Please don’t wither away and die,” you whisper to it, hoping it will take your impassioned plea to heart and thrive.

Maybe you’re not just talking to your plant.

-

“Why didn’ t you tell me he was here?”

Under the harsh white light of her office, Janet gives a pout, her voice in a near whimper when she asks the question. She sighs dramatically, leaning back in her chair while she pulls up a picture of James – Bucky – half his face obscured with a camera as he lies shirtless and in a pair of jeans with two buttons undone, his sculpted physique on display.

Impressive for people who are into that sort of beefcake lust. She even bought you one for your birthday that you had slipped to another co-worker. 

“You know, I loved Mr. December but there’s something about a former military man,” Janet continues, placing her phone back on the desk. “I’ve met him a few times, you know.”

“Mr. December?” you ask, wondering why she asked to see you in her office so quickly the minute you had walked in.

Clearly, judging by the way Janet moves back and forth in her chair, waiting for you to give her a play by play of your interaction with him, this isn’t any sort of serious business by your standard.

“No, silly. Mr. March. He was with Mr. July when they were signing calendars. Hotter in person and he comes to the library a lot.”

“Ah.”

There’s not much else you can say, Janet continuing on with her quick meet and greet. You like having her as a boss most of the time. She’s damn good at her job when she wants to be and makes long days bearable because she watches reality television and can recite pop culture facts when you need a distraction.

“So he’s coming back today,” Janet asks, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. “Did he tell you what time?”

“No.”

You know why she’s invested but it still makes no sense as to why she’s asking. For all it’s worth, she can give him the books – as long as he’s made good on his word to bring the other one back.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t give him the books.”

“It’s policy,” you protest, frowning at her response. “In section twenty-four, it states -”

Janet waves her hand in the air to brush away the rest of your statement.

“I know what it says. It’s a guideline, sort of. I guess it worked out in our favor, since he agreed to come back. Damn it,” Janet says with a disappointed sigh. “I wish I was an Omega. Leave it to my Beta parents to birth yet another Beta.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Beta. Trust me,” you counter, seeing her shrug. If anything, it doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest, seeing her straighten her posture when her office phone rings.

It rarely does and that’s your cue to leave, getting up as she answers it nervously, grasping the receiver while mouthing that she’ll continue the conversation later. It’s a reprieve that you take, closing the door behind you and exhaling a breath.

-

“Next in line?” you ask, breaking away from cataloging a new set of books that arrived. Your co-worker Lily is on her break, leaving you to man the desk.

The sound of a book plopped onto the counter gets your attention, peeling your attention away from the monitor to see him again, straightening your shoulders at the sight of the missing book in front of you.

He raises an eyebrow at you, his scent hitting your nose before you clear your throat. You aren’t going to be swayed by some Alpha, no matter how good he may look or smell.

“Library card?” you ask.

He hands it to you without hesitation, swiping the card through the reader before scanning the book back in. 

“Thank you for bringing back the book, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you for keeping your word and holding my books for me.”

You know he can see them on the counter, taking the book and dropping it in the bin.

“We had an agreement,” you remind him, turning to get the books from the counter. When you lift the sticky note, he clears his throat.

“What name did you use to hold them?”

Pausing, you don’t answer, wondering why he would ask such a question.

“The name you told me.”

“Really?” he questions. “James or Bucky?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does in case I accidentally hold onto a book for another three years. Someone else could come in here and request my books I place on hold. Or rather, that you place on hold. What if you aren’t here? Someone could give my books away.”

“I would place it under any name you choose.”

“Then what was the name you put?”

Like a dog after a bone, you think, saying nothing in response to him, placing the books onto the counter without the note that is crumpled into your closed fist.

“Barnes,” you lie, keeping a straight face as he looks disappointed.

“That’s very formal.”

“This is a library,” you recite, scanning the books one by one. “And I also would write down your library card number so they could look it up.”

“You did that this time too?”

Your back stiffens at his inquiry.

“No.”

“Why not?

“Because I’m here today,” you explain to him slowly, like you would with someone understanding this for the first time.

“Fair. I mean, I do like the individual service.”

You clear your throat, pushing the books over to him.

“Individual service is something we strive for at the library. Books are due within thirty days of today’s date. As you remember from our last conversation, you will be unable to borrow any books if these are not returned in a timely manner.”

He nods in understanding, still watching you before you frown.

“Did you need anything else? You have your books,” you remind him.

“No, I guess not. Sorry, I…” he trails off. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry that I didn’t return the book I borrowed in a timely manner and I really appreciate the grace you’ve given me to hold the books I can’t wait to read.”

For a moment, you relax at his soft tone. Alphas scare you – always have – but this one showing you a little grace gives you a slight hesitation of whether or not you can allow this proverbial olive branch.

“You picked some great choices,” you compliment, seeing the hint of a smile on his lips. “And it was my pleasure.”

There’s a sound of a table squeaking loudly, two children shouting over what appears to be a teddy bear that the library allows for reading in groups, sending you on high alert to check on them.

“Sorry, I need to see what’s going on,” you murmur, moving away from the desk and toward the commotion, your co-worker rushing toward the deafening screams, passing you by.

You slow your steps when the meltdown is solved – another teddy bear to the rescue as everyone quiets down.

“Hey, you dropped this,” he says behind you, leaning down to pick up the crumpled sticky note as the horror of what he will see sinks in.

“I can take it,” you say quickly, Bucky reading the note before he smiles right in your face.

“You’re a good liar,” he says with a nod, handing you the note that you take from his hand. Embarrassment floods your entire being, your face hot with anxiety when he nods.

“I guess that’s my claim to fame. Wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who has one of those calendars though. Janet on the other hand…”

“I don’t,” you snap, shoving the note into the pocket of your skirt. “It was a little inside joke.”

“For who?”

“I have to go on break,” you rush out, head down as you head toward the back of the library. “Have a good day, Mr. Barnes.”

“I will,” he says behind you, his voice full of amusement. “You too.”

-

Two bags of take out are on the kitchen counter, Steve giving a sheepish smile at his roommate.

“I know, I know. It’s my turn to make dinner but I got caught up with -”

“The Omega in 7C?” Bucky asks, picking at the plastic ties of the bag, his mouth watering at the scent of what Steve bought for dinner. 

“It’s not like that,” Steve refutes with a shake of his head. “She’s… you know that apartment is run down. She won’t move because she said she gets a discount on her rent and…” 

Steve trails off, noticing Bucky looking at him with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Steve continues, Bucky doling out their dinner onto two paper plates. “She’s just a nice girl who happens to have a… not great apartment.”

“Steve, you know it’s okay if you like her. I think she likes you too.”

That does it, Steve’s cheeks burning bright when he digs into his dinner.

“It’s not like that, Buck.”

“I didn’t say it was. Attraction is attraction.”

“It’s our designation,” Steve points out. “It’s natural, pretty textbook.”

“Yeah? Then why did you stomp around the house the other day when 7A insulted her?”

“Because Peter Quill is a complete asshole. Can you believe he mentioned wanting to help her through her heat? Who says that to a complete stranger? He’s also a complete idiot, by the way,” Steve fumes, taking an angry bite of his dinner, chewing quickly as Bucky nods and waits for him to finish. “He put dishwashing liquid into his dishwasher and wanted to know why there were suds everywhere, he called me Super Maintenance Bro and I am not his bro, Bucky, there is no way he should even be allowed near 7C, let alone any Omega.”

Steve lets out a short exhale, shaking his head in disbelief when Bucky decides to poke around.

“She has you,” Bucky points out, Steve not replying as he eats. “You told me you made sure she locked her door because she always forgets. If you didn’t care about her, you wouldn’t do that. Nor would she send you pizza or whatever the hell else she gives us when you fix something of hers. And it’s always your favorite comfort foods, Steve.”

“We’re just tenants and I happen to be the maintenance man.”

Bucky snorts in response, Steve rolling his eyes.

“And what about you? Two trips to the library in two days? That’s unusual,” Steve quips. “Who is she?”

“Who is who?”

Steve gives Bucky a deadpan stare, Bucky picking around his plate with his fork.

“You came home with three new books today and I haven’t seen you smile that much since you got your new job. What gives?”

“Just like reading.”

“Uh huh,” Steve agrees sarcastically. “I wonder if there’s a new librarian there. Or maybe you’ve let your guard down and decided to give Janet a chance.”

Bucky does laugh then, Steve breaking into a smile as they fall into a comfortable silence.

He’s not ready to talk about you yet. Mostly because there’s nothing to talk about in this current moment and there’s nothing else he can say without Steve getting more ammunition to tease him.

Truthfully, he half expected you to back down when he was asking you questions but you kept up with him. For a moment, while Steve launches into a story about work and his co-worker Scott, he zones out thinking of the slight nose scrunch you gave him when you were displeased with his questions, the wide-eyed gaze of surprise when he picked up the paper that you had dropped.

A napkin hits him square in the forehead, breaking his concentration.

“What was that for?”

“Daydreaming about the library,” Steve replies with a sly smile. “Looks like I’m not the only one with someone on their mind, am I?”

Bucky looks down at his empty plate and shrugs, knowing that Steve probably won't buy his next line.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

[sparkle-fiend]

Steve loves Valentine’s Day.

It’s a holiday celebrating love and romance; the whole point is to shower someone with affection (and hopefully get laid at the end of the night). What’s not to like about that?

With girls, Valentine’s was easy. Big box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, dinner at a fancy restaurant (and maybe a little jewelry or something - depending on how much he likes her). A sweet card, for sure.

Now that he’s dating Eddie, Valentine’s Day presents more of a… challenge. 

“Ugh, what am I gonna do Rob? We walked through the greeting card aisle at Melvald’s and he pretended to puke. He doesn’t want flowers or chocolate or anything.”

He knows he’s whining. He’s slumped dramatically in the single office chair in the Family Video breakroom, spinning slowly (like a pathetic little rotisserie chicken, according to Robin). He’s probably got about five more minutes before Robin snaps.

“Why do you have to do anything? You know Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday – it’s just an excuse to get people to spend money on crap they don’t need…”

“Oh my god, stop! You sound just like Eddie. Valentine's isn't about spending money, it's about... showing people that you love them. Making them feel happy and appreciated and special. It’s about celebrating love.”

Robin tilts her head and her face goes a little soft, the way it does when he says something she wasn't expecting (but in a good way, not like when he says something so dumb that her body collapses and she says he's obliterated her will to live). 

"That’s actually surprisingly sweet Steve. Okay….” she sighs and looks up at the ceiling as she thinks. “Maybe... you could try making something? He liked those cookies you baked for movie night." 

“Those cookies were terrible.” Practically inedible. Eddie was the only person that ate more than one. (Which was either a true declaration of love in and of itself, or proof that Eddie will eat literally anything when he's stoned.) 

"I don't know, Eddie is pretty easy to please. You could give him like... a cool rock, and he would probably love it." 

Steve sits upright so fast he nearly overturns the chair. "Robin, you're a genius!!" 

She blinks at him. "Clearly. But also, why exactly?" 

Eddie is like a crow. He's forever picking up little odds and ends - cool rocks, stickers, shiny bits of paper. At Christmas, he collected the bows off of everyone's presents. Sometimes, he incorporates the stuff he finds into little props and models for his D&D games, but other times he just keeps it. He's got a whole drawer devoted to his little 'hoard', as he calls it. 

Steve explains all this to Robin, who just shakes her head in bemusement. "He is so weird," she says fondly. 

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He would have recoiled from that oddity in high school - would have been worried what other people would think. Scared they would judge him for associating with someone like that. 

He doesn’t give a shit, these days. He sees the way Eddie lights up with happiness at the smallest things, so full of excitement and passion, and it just makes him smile. He feels grateful that he gets to bask in that reflected joy, like a flower soaking up the sun.

Valentines is two weeks away, which gives Steve plenty of time to collect a bounty of little treasures. He hits the pawn shop, the thrift store - he even drives out to the weird antique shop about an hour out of town, which looks like a normal house on the outside and is crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac when you walk inside. 

He also trawls the quarry, the lake, and the woods behind his house. It's tough, because usually Eddie's little treasures just look like trash to Steve. He's not a very creative person himself, but he tries hard to see the world the way his boyfriend would. 

If that means Steve finds himself debating for over half an hour on which rock is more appealing, well – it will all be worth it in the end.

———

Steve stays over at Eddie's, the night before Valentines. (At this point, he spends more time at the Munson's house than he does at his own.) 

He wakes up early, slipping out of bed with slow, careful movements. As usual, Eddie rolls over with a faint grumble, bundling himself into a burrito of blankets to compensate for the void of warmth left by Steve's absence. 

He moves down the hall, avoiding each creaky board like it's a booby trap in the Temple of Doom, until he reaches the kitchen - which is where Steve breaks routine. He sneaks out the back door and races across the driveway in his boxers, hopping and cursing as the frigid gravel stings his bare feet. 

His carefully cultivated stash of gifts is in the glove compartment of the BMW. He already has a plan for which one will be first, so he grabs it and closes the door (slowly, slowly - the sound of Steve moving around the house is familiar, but a car door slamming in the driveway at this time of morning would wake Eddie for sure). 

The first gift is a blue jay feather he found in the woods, perfect and clean with vivid blue and black stripes. He tucks it carefully under the edge of the ash tray that sits on the porch railing, before slipping back inside to start breakfast.

Thirty minutes later Eddie appears, drawn by the warm smell of coffee and the sound of bacon popping in the pan. 

He drapes himself over Steve's back and murmurs, "G'mornin," sleepily into the shell of his ear, the way he does every morning after Steve spends the night. This time, Steve balances his spatula on the edge of the pan and turns so that he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. 

He presses a cheerful kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth and says, "Happy Valentine’s Day." 

Eddie groans dramatically and throws his head back, the rest of his bodyweight following. If Steve didn't have a firm grip around his waist, he would have toppled over backward; the move turns into an awkward backbend instead. 

"Stevie please, it's too early for that crap. Wait until I've had my coffee at least." 

Steve grins. He releases his hold just long enough for Eddie to yelp and scrabble for balance before catching him and pulling him close again. 

"Jesus Christ," Eddie gasps. 

"Careful," Steve says with a smug grin, laughing when Eddie shoves him in the chest and pulls away.

They eat breakfast together, and then Steve follows Eddie outside for his morning cigarette. 

"Holy shit, look at this!" Eddie turns to Steve with the blue jay feather pinched between his fingers, grinning with delight. He hasn't brushed his hair yet and he's got a smear of bacon grease on his cheek, but he's so beautiful in that moment - so full of joy it shines out of him, like a lighthouse.

Just because he found a feather. Steve smiles back, helplessly besotted. "Pretty cool." 

Eddie twirls the feather between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s a sign that today is gonna be a good day.”

Steve presses his mouth to the edge of his coffee cup to hide his expression. “Yeah, I think so too.”

———

Eddie rolls into the Family Video parking lot around 2 in the afternoon to visit before his band practice. He strolls inside and leans against the counter, plonking a silver wrapped Hershey kiss down in front of Steve. 

“Kiss for a kiss?” he says, with a smarmy grin. Steve rolls his eyes, but he checks to make sure they’re alone in the store before swooping forward for a quick peck on the lips.

“I got you something too,” he says.

“Oh?” Eddie raises one eyebrow, managing to look both curious and skeptical. “Please tell me it’s not a cheesy greeting card.”

Steve flips him the bird before reaching into his pocket. He pulls the keychain out and lets it dangle from one finger in front of Eddie’s face.

His boyfriend’s immediate reaction is to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The keychain is a garish red plastic heart, definitely the antithesis of Eddie’s usual metalhead vibe.

But it’s also sparkly. 

Steve’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk as Eddie takes the keychain from him, reluctantly admiring the way light sparks off the flakes of holographic glitter embedded in the plastic. The cheap little thing shimmers like a ruby in the afternoon sun.

“Some kid dropped it. They never came back, so it’s yours if you want it.” (That’s technically true, although Steve has been holding on to it for nearly a month now, waiting for today.)

“Oh, well then.” Eddie stuffs the keychain into his pocket. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!” He sticks his tongue out, eyes wide and exaggerated – then leans across the counter and licks Steve’s nose.

“Gross!” Steve sputters with laughter. He scrubs at his face and looks up just in time to see Eddie wave jauntily on his way out the door, a second Hershey kiss left sitting on the counter in his wake.

———

After Steve's shift is over, he runs home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before meeting Eddie at the diner. 

He did his best to talk his boyfriend into going on a proper date, but the most he could get Eddie to agree to was milkshakes and a movie (my choice Stevie, not some lame romance).

Steve walks into the diner and spots Eddie at the back booth. He saunters over and sets the third present onto the sticky Formica table with a click. It's a small golden gear, nearly paper-thin. 

"Check it out. Found this in the parking lot." 

(That's a lie. Steve carefully picked apart a broken old watch from the thrift shop in order to extract a handful of the little gears.)

"Hey, cool! I bet I could use this in the model I'm working on." Eddie pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and drops the gear inside for safe keeping. 

"What's the model for?" Steve asks.

Eddie launches into an animated explanation of the character he's creating for a new Hellfire campaign - a sun-worshiping priest that intends to trick the party into becoming a ritual sacrifice. 

"... and that gear thing would look pretty good on the top of his staff." 

Steve doesn't understand much of what Eddie's saying, but he loves the way his boyfriend talks with his whole body, moving his hands and shoulders and head along with the words. He rests his chin in his hand and lets Eddie ramble until the milkshakes arrive, smiling like a dope the whole time.

Eddie has no concept of time, so Steve is in charge of making sure they finish their milkshakes and leave the diner in time to make it to the movie. As Eddie slides into the passenger seat of the BMW, he says, “Hey – you think we have enough time to stop by the Circle K?”

Steve turns in his seat as he reverses out of the parking lot. "What do you need at the Circle K?" 

"Snacks! You can't go to a movie without provisions Stevie! And don't say we can buy some at the concessions stand, because the prices they charge are ridiculous."

“Well if we stop now, we’ll be late – but I’ve got some Milk Duds and trail mix…” Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Eddie pops open the glove compartment in his search for snacks, revealing Steve’s little stash of gifts. 

Eddie frowns in confusion. “What the hell?” He rifles through the pile as Steve groans.

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see those yet.”

“What is all this?” Eddie picks up a ring, turning it over in his hands. It's a bulky silver biker ring, like the ones Eddie wears every day - only this one is shaped like a bat with tiny ruby eyes. Steve is particularly proud of that one, discovered in a box of assorted rings at the pawn shop.

Steve gnaws at his lip and runs a hand through his hair, ruining all his careful styling. "I know you hate Valentines, but I wanted to do something. Just… to show you how much I love you. So instead of the cards and flowers and stuff, I tried to find little things you might actually like. For your, you know… your 'dragon hoard' or whatever you call it."

"So the keychain and the gear..."

"And the feather."

Eddie's eyebrow twitches. He stares at the contents of the glove compartment; at the water smoothed stone from the lake and the multicolored twist of ribbon, the vivid green marble and the tiny mother of pearl locket. He looks down at the ring still clutched in his hand, and blinks rapidly. 

Steve glances nervously between Eddie and the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. He's disappointed that the surprise has been ruined, but more concerned about Eddie's reaction. He'd expected the other boy to laugh or tease him, not this... whatever this is. 

Finally, Eddie clears his throat roughly and speaks. "Actually, can we just head back to my place? I've got something I wanna show you, and I don't think I can wait through the movie." 

“Uh… sure.”

Steve's brain is buzzing as he takes a left instead of a right at the intersection. He's worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time they pull into the Munson's driveway. "Eddie, I..." 

Eddie interrupts him, practically throwing himself across the center console as he drags Steve into a fierce kiss. By the time Eddie lets him go, Steve is panting. "Wha...?" 

"Wait here," Eddie says with a wild grin. He presses Steve back into the seat for emphasis. "Don't move." 

He takes the steps up the porch two at a time and fumbles with his key to get inside as Steve watches in a daze. He has no idea what's going on. 

After a few minutes, Eddie returns to the door. He's pulled on a t-shirt with a faux tuxedo printed on the front, and he's standing straight backed in the doorway with a towel over his arm, like some kind of maître d’. He waves grandly toward Steve, beckoning him toward the house. 

Steve snorts with laughter as he climbs out of the BMW. “What are you doing?” 

"This way sir," Eddie replies in a terrible attempt at a posh English accent. Steve shakes his head, thoroughly bewildered and increasingly amused. 

He walks past Eddie through the doorway and freezes in surprise.

The living room has been transformed. Eddie set up the gaming table in the middle of the room – set with a crisp white tablecloth, the Munson’s best dishes, and a vase full of red roses sitting in the center of the table, flanked by two candles. More candles twinkle softly from the coffee table, the end tables - even on top of the tv. 

"Eddie..." Steve whispers in awe. "What is this?" 

"Well, ah... I kind of jumped the gun a little. It’s supposed to be a candlelight dinner. If we'd gone to the movie, Wayne would have had time to get all the food set up. But it won’t take long, I already cooked everything. Just gotta heat it up."

Steve’s vision goes watery, smearing the candlelight into one big blur as tears fill his eyes. He blinks hard to clear them. “I thought you hated all this stuff.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yeah I do. But you love it. So I wanted to surprise you.”

Steve grips his boyfriend by the front of his ridiculous t-shirt and pulls him into a bone-cracking hug, before pulling back just far enough to kiss the breath from him. 

In a pause between kisses, Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s and laughs a little breathlessly. “What made you change your mind about the movie?”

Eddie bites his lips, already swollen from kisses. Steve can’t tear his eyes away.

“I don’t know. When I saw all that stuff you collected for me…” he clears his throat, staring at Steve with wide dark eyes. “I’m… I know I’m weird. I’ve known that my whole life. I never thought I would find anyone that would tolerate me, let alone… celebrate me like that.”

He kisses Steve again, sweet and soft. “I couldn’t sit and wait for two hours after that. I had to get you home and show you how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth. “You know… I’m not really hungry yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

Steve trails his hands down Eddie’s chest, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging. “Mm-hmm. I think we need to work up an appetite first.”

Eddie laughs in delight. “Sounds like a good idea. You know how much I like dessert before dinner.”

A happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[coltrainbat]

oh oh i got inspiration request from sr. (rdj dad, netflix documentary) so could you write about chris evans decided to do a Netflix documentary movie from how he became celeb to how he met his girlfriend, reader.

Boston Boy: Chris Evans Doco

A/N: OK I HAVE BEEN THINKING OF THIS SCENARIO FOR SO LONG. I ADORE THE CONCEPT. Me being a very visual person, I was like... how do I execute this? It was gonna be gifs but then I thought no like let's get that audio visual thang going. So I present to you my shitty little video montage that I spent 2 hours on my laptop trying to figure out, scouring the internet for clips (they're not mine... clearly please dont sue). I kind of set it out as the single interviews, and then you guys getting asked questions by interviewers at home and then all those little scenes.

So when you watch my poorly done video, firstly, don't judge, secondly, imagine it as little home video clips of you. I HAD TO DO IT. MY BRAIN WOULDNT LET ME POST THIS UNLESS I DID IT.

Please enjoy xo.

1v1 Chris Interview

Interviewer: What’s one song that describes Y/N?

“Killer Queen. No question.” He smirked, resting his chin on his fingers.

< Video Montage of you starts with the music >

She’s just… yeah… you know you don’t meet someone like that every day and the fact that I get to spend every day with her makes me the luckiest man alive.

<Scene changes to you getting comfy on your couch, pulling up a blanket and holding a cup of tea. The room is dark being light by the various warm lights in your living room. You’re in your pyjamas.>

Interviewer: You guys ready?

Y/N: Oh, this is starting already! God, I haven’t even done my makeup.

CE: You look fine. It’s a documentary babe it’s supposed to be informal.

Chris pulled your feet up over his lap, settling in next to you.

Y/N: I still would have done my hair! I’ve never done an interview for anything besides a job, so this is a little different.

Interviewer: Just think of it as you’re in your living room chatting with friends.

Y/N: Alright shoot!

Interviewer: So, Y/N, I guess it’s funny because you don’t have a profession in the industry you had no aspirations of being famous and you’ve just been thrusted into this spotlight… what’s that like?

Y/N: I mean… it’s definitely different. And I’d be lying if I say I didn’t you know think on it and it’s hard because you have to really question is this guy, I’m seeing worth it? You know? That sacrifice of your privacy or your mundane life. Like yeah, the trips and the nice house and hotels and the events are all great and I can’t complain but you know you give a part of yourself up. That part of you that can go to the grocery store in sweatpants, the one where your whole life doesn’t come up when you google yourself. That was hard but you know I had to kind of follow my heart and I decided yeah you know; I really like this guy and why not? Sometimes you gotta take a risk and follow your heart and I’m glad I did it but I don’t think I’d do this for anyone else.

CE: Would you say I’m worth it now?

Chris smirked at you

Y/N: I’d definitely say you’re worth it.”

Interviewer: And what would you say is the hardest part?

Y/N: Well, you know no one wants to be disliked and that’s always hard to have that rejection but imagine that but from thousands of people who have never met you, don’t know you from a bar of soap who then go online and tell you that. You know that they don’t like you because you’re ugly and fat and you’re a gold digger. Let the record show, I have a really good job that I love so his money was not what did it for me. Especially, since I’m the one who always buys the coffees.

CE: That part killed me…. There’s this girl, you know, my girl that I love and she’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me and people are just going around online spewing all this hate about her, you kind of feel it’s your fault… ya know? She didn’t choose this life, I did but by extension it’s her life now. I just don’t think she deserves it. The gold digger comment on the other hand is hilarious, I think I owe her $1000 in coffees. She gets weird if I buy her a nice present on her birthday, she’s definitely not after my money.

Y/N: I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s your fault though like I knew what I was getting into, and I agreed to it getting into a relationship with you.

CE: It’s still not fair though. I have this need to protect her, ya know, that’s my job to make sure she’s safe and I can’t protect her from everything and that’s hard.

Y/N: I know honey I know.

You patted his thigh hoping the ease the pain in his voice.

Y/N: I’ve kind of grown immune to it now, these people don’t know me or my relationship so I’m able to kind of shut that out. It’s as simple as putting the phone down.

Interviewer: What’s the best part then?

Y/N: Not having to pay rent in Boston.

CE: Ya kidding!

Y/N: It’s a really tough market!

Y/N: No in seriousness, I live a really privileged life with the man I love. I had a great life before, but I think being in love and having a person makes you feel complete.

Interviewer: So, we’ll set the scene, an A-lister movie star comes up to you on a night out and starts talking to you… what’s going through your head? How did you feel? Starstruck?

Y/N: He looks like every other white dude, so I didn’t clock it immediately but when I did I thought I was being punkd or something.”

CE: Oh come on!

Y/N: No seriously and I’ve told you this I was super suspicious about it. Yeah sure, I’ve had guys come up to me in clubs but having someone who you know could have anyone they wanted, and you know I’m not the beauty standard, I don’t fit the mould of bombshell, I’m curvy and loud and I laugh like a drunk witch I just didn’t think that I was someone he’d be interested in.

CE: Speak for yourself I love your laugh.

Interviewer: So, Chris why did you go up to her?

CE: Well firstly, look at her. I mean I first saw her and I think that was kind of the first time in my life I ever got taken back by someone… I’m a big believer in love at first and I think I had that moment of “wow there she is. That’s the girl I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with.” and it’s not just her looks either she had this energy about her that was addictive and I wanted to be a part of. She was laughing and I could see the faces of the people around her they just seemed so entertained and engaged by whatever she was saying. She’s one of those people you kind of just gravitate to because she has that gift of lighting up a room. She reminds me of a quote I read once, she’s like a sunrise, she doesn’t care if you watch her rise or not she will continue to be beautiful even if no one bothers to look.

Y/N: He had this big grin talking to me the whole time and I thought oh maybe that’s an actor thing where you’re not allowed to stop smiling.

Interviewer: But you thought you were getting punkd…

Y/N: If not punkd, that he was kind of just looking for a one-night fling. Admittedly, I judged him. Definitely. I had read the tabloids, I didn’t understand why someone like him was single, it was suspicious.

CE: It’s because I hadn’t met you yet.

Y/N: Well, we know that now but back then I think I put a wall up because I didn’t want to get hurt. Getting your heartbroken by a celebrity isn’t just as simple as you block their number, his face is everywhere, I’d have to boycott certain movies. I’d be embarrassed by the fact that I trusted some playboy movie star and thought that I was special enough he wanted to be with me.

CE: God you were soooo wrong sweetheart

Y/N: I can admit that now! But yeah, it’s definitely weird trying to navigate his intentions. But he made it pretty clear from the start.

CE: She said no like 50 times.

Interviewer: You said NO?

The interviewer put on a faux gasp.

Y/N: I had my walls up I just don’t think I was willing to be fucked around by Captain America. But I think I realised he was being genuine when he was scheduled to leave to go to some other event and his people came over to kind of get him out and he looked them in the eye and said “no, I’m in the middle of something important.” I was like oh god this man is DETERMINED.

CE: You were important, I refused to leave you alone until you at least agreed to one date.

Y/N: We would of been there all night if I was more stubborn.

CE: Thank god you caved to my good looks and charm.

Y/N: Yeah that and you also promised me a pasta dinner… that’s my advice to all the girls watching never turn down a good meal especially if the guy is paying.

CE: I learnt early on good food is the way to your heart.

Y/N: And then every date after that he’d bring me chocolate like boxes of truffles or those big industrial packs of Reece’s.

CE: She loves Reece’s.

Interviewer: So how do you keep this spark alive? Seems like you two are really in love even after facing some challenges that normal couples wouldn’t.

CE: Sex.

Y/N: Chris!

CE: What? I can’t say that? Look I’m a man, who is lucky he gets to go to bed most nights with a beautiful woman I think that’s a really good part of our relationship that I can’t see going away anytime soon.

Y/N: Intimacy is definitely there that’s for sure but I think also even when you are away we are constantly communicating and planning to do things we enjoy together.

CE: Yeah, when I come home from filming or a press tour my first priority is making sure we have that time to reconnect whether it’s a week, a day or even just a few hours doing something with her and no one else makes me feel a little bit more human again.

Interviewer: Would you say your job makes you feel less human?

CE: In a way yeah, I mean, I’m playing another character 24/7 and I love my job don’t get me wrong but you’re on set for hours every day and then you get pushed into interviews and you have to be “on” all the time you know smiling and answering the same questions for hours. I think that’s why a lot of actors do seem unhappy and it’s because they don’t get to come home to someone who wraps you in this hug of quotidian. I’m Chris Evans most of the time but I come home and to her I’m just “Chrissy baby” and she doesn’t expect me to act a certain way, I can just be myself and pretend for a few hours that I’m just this normal guy coming home to his wife after a day of work.

Y/N: Girlfriend. He means girlfriend. We aren’t married.

CE: Not yet but it’s definitely on the cards. Sorry I slip up a bit, it feels like we are married but yeah no secret wedding or anything.

Interviewer: Have you guys talked about marriage and kids, we know Chris is set on a big Boston family..

CE: Oh, every day.

Y/N: It’s definitely in the works, Chris and I have a similar background in the fact we are big family people so it’s a no brainer that in a couple of years you’ll see me popping out babies.

CE: But for now, we are enjoying life just us and Dodger.

Y/N: Yeah, there’s no rush. It’ll happen though.

Interviewer: How many kids is the perfect number?

Y/N: 3

CE: 4

Interviewer: 3 or 4 which is it?

CE: My number is actually coming down from 5 but obviously it’s her body so if after 3 she feels up for one more, I won’t say no but whatever makes her happy.

Y/N: I need to see how I feel but I’m confident that Chris will be one of those hands-on dads, so I won’t be left alone with 4 kids under 4 running around.

CE: Oh, definitely not, stay at home daddy over here.

Interviewer: Seems you two have given lots of thought to it any baby names?

CE: The baby names are safely locked up in Y/N notes app but yeah, we’ve sorted that out.

Y/N: I’m not spoiling them.

You grin at the gorgeous man next to you.

< Chris’s voice over as scenes of you two moving around airports, packing bags and messing around in green rooms plays >

Life is crazy for me right now; you know with ASP and all these upcoming movies and projects. I don’t think that’s something I’d be able to do if I didn’t have her. She is singlehandedly keeping my engine running. Because there are days when it gets too much, and you have so many different opinions coming your way as to what you should do and how you should act. And there she is, right next to me or a phone call away and I can just turn to her. I definitely value her opinion above anyone else’s and that’s because I think she only gives it when I ask or when she thinks I need to hear it. She knows me better than myself so if she says, “Hey slow down.” I listen because she knows. I know its cheesy, but she is my rock, she is the calm I crave amongst chaos and a minute in her arms helps me get up to do another day.

She inspires me every day, the way she gets up and works tirelessly for others, pursues her passion and is unapologetically herself. They say you’re attract to people who have what you lack, and I think her confidence to say, “Hey you may not like it but I’m not going to conform to what you want me to be.” Is something I admire, and I think being around someone like that really gives me that bit of confidence to kind of shush the anxiety. There’s a certain intelligence that comes with knowing it’s not worth it to change yourself to appease others and that’s why when I say she is the smartest person I know, I mean that.

She’s not just my best friend, she’s, my soulmate.

[d34dlysinner]

An old trophy and a lost treasure

I wanted to write some angst. Made a poll and Bimet had the highest score on the poll. So here’s the ‘angst’.  Remember this post is made BEFORE the game release and thus can’t be seen as canon. It was made to feed my mind and other minds before the game’s release.  TW: violence No one knew how you did it, neither did you. Somehow you managed to capture Bimet’s heart without money being involved. In fact, you weren’t even rich enough for his standards. He would normally glare harshly at anyone that he deemed poor, which was a lot of people. So it was no surprise that everyone was shocked once Bimet asked for a more serious relationship. One where you both would actually put each other first. Not like the previous one where he only talked to you when he needed something, contract-wise. You don’t know why you accepted his request or confession, but a part of you wanted to know him way better than anyone else does. The start of the relationship was awkward. Both of you would talk to each other or hang out with each other as if it were some business meeting. He would talk your ear off about how you could use tricks to make more money and how to see if a product would catch certain audiences. If you learned something by then, it was how to handle things in Hell’s market, but apart from that you didn’t know anything about Bimet. You know that he loves money and how he handles things, but nothing about his favorite food. Or what he does when he isn’t doing money-related stuff. You knew nothing about pets or anything else about him. The business meetings which were masked as ‘dates’ increased to the point that you had to speak up and tell him that you’d rather want to know other things about him. He wasn’t pleased with hearing this, but he did understand that he can’t act as if you were his business partner. He started to do what you asked for, a relationship that went deeper than being business buddies. He would plan out expensive dates which he pays himself, because he knows that you can’t purchase anything that suits his tastes. These dates would range from an expensive dinner to a vacation to some spa resort. He would also amuse you by joining you on the smaller dates you planned yourself. He really didn’t see the appeal in joining you on some ice cream or picnic dates, but he did like to see you happy and comfortable. After some time you felt comfortable enough to stay at his place, though it took a while longer for Bimet to feel comfortable at your place which he described as a “claustrophobic shed”. You were patient with him and allowed him to open up at his pace. Eventually he was comfortable enough to even spend an entire week at your place. You were proud to see him feel comfortable at your place and you were proud to see that he was comfortable with you. He would also sometimes flaunt how you were at his side. The human that came to Hell to help the demons was his and his alone. You felt treasured by him. You felt more loved since you arrived in Hell. It was really funny to you how both you and Bimet started from a relationship that was purely transactional. It now blossomed into one where you trusted each other and where you could depend on each other. You both helped each other out. He was your knight that would save you from the dangers of both Hell and Heaven, while sometimes judging you. You were the more affectionate person in the relationship that made him feel at ease and showed him how being “cheap” is good once in a while. Everything was fine. Until he lost something he deemed more precious than you. That precious thing he lost, that piece of metal that he worshiped for centuries stood above you. It felt embarrassing to know that he would choose some material over an actual living being. You knew that he could be materialistic and you knew that it was something he cherished from the start. You weren’t angry, but you always felt this ‘pang of sadness’ in your chest whenever you see him being so focused and careful with the material. The memories he revisits whenever he has it near him and the look on his face when trying to remember those moments would often make you feel invisible. It was as if the material knew Bimet better than you ever could. And you accepted this thought. You were human after all. You didn’t see him from the very start. It took centuries for you to come into existence and it took another few years to meet him. You couldn’t blame him for cherishing something this deeply. One evening you decided that you needed some fresh air. You told Bimet that you will walk on the main street. The main streets were safer after all. The human world is dangerous and Hell is way more dangerous than earth. He only allows you to walk alone on the main streets. Whenever you want to explore he needed to be there with you. He is strong enough to fight for both of you if danger were to arise. On your walk, you didn’t notice some figure following you leading to you being dragged into an alley where you were robbed, you tried calling Bimet once, only for it to go to voice mail. That’s when you received a punch from the demon that was robbing you. A punch from a human may hurt a lot, but one from an entity that’s stronger than a human was like getting hit by a truck. Your head was struck and you started seeing double. Because of your will to live you tried to run out of the alleyway, but you passed out before you could reach anyone that could help. Bimet was still at his home. He wanted to go and look at his cherished trophy again before waiting for your return, but it wasn’t at its usual spot. Did he misplace it? Did he take it with him?... No, that can’t be. He would know. His mind raced and that’s when he remembers you. Angry he took out his phone and he noticed the one miscall. He decided to call you. Wanting to know where you dared to move his treasure to, but it went to voice mail. He called again and again while turning the house upside down. His anger getting worse by the second. That’s when he got a call from a maid. Telling him that they moved his possession to his safe room since they were doing some maintenance in its previous room. He fired the maid before storming out of the safe room. He entered the room and there it was. His treasure, his cherished trophy. He yet again thought about his past and the good and bad memories. After a while, he left his possession in the safe room. He remembered your miscall and saw that you haven’t replied to his calls yet. “Weird”, he thought as he waited for a call from you. That’s when he saw that Morax was calling him. “A noble that wants to do some business again?”, he thought as he picked up the call. He awaited what Morax had to say as his eyes widened at the news. They found you in an alleyway… Unresponsive? How? Why were you somewhere you weren’t allowed to be in? He didn’t waste any time as he rushed out the doors and towards your location. And there he saw you. In a bed, bandaged and sleeping. He was grateful that you were breathing, but seeing you in this state made him rethink his choices from a few moments ago. He started to feel regretful that he didn’t hear your call. He started feeling bad that he was blaming you for moving his treasure. He waited there for you to awaken. He didn’t care if it took hours, days, or weeks. He’ll wait for you. And that’s what he did. Sitting by your side. Making small conversations that he knew you couldn’t respond to. He did that all while waiting for you to awaken. When you woke up from the deep slumber you were hugged by him. The embrace felt warm and familiar, but you couldn’t remember this man hugging you. You softly pushed him away, resulting in you getting a confused look from him. You opened your mouth and the first words you muttered after your slumber was “… Sorry, but… Who are you?” Bimet gave you a hurtful look as he realized that you forgot him. He didn’t know what to say. What he did know was that this time, it was him that would wait for you to get comfortable. And he knew that this time he actually lost something that he should’ve treasured more from the start. He lost you.

[antis0cial23]

The Pride of the Navy

Chapter 6: Familial Ties

Summary: going home has its ups… and its downs

Warnings: Mentions of deteriorating health, swearing

Maverick sat at the bar, cool beer in hand. Some aviators chittered around him, back by the pool table, some by the dart boards Penny kept having to replace, and some just scattered throughout. His phone was cool in his hands, not being used and most certainly not on Penny’s bar top, never in a million years would he forget about that, nor would his savings recover.

“Long day, pilot?” Penny asked, already knowing what happened during todays class. Maverick gave her a tired look, all telling. “Word travels fast in the Navy, Mav.” She offered him a smile, then got back to tending to her patrons at the bar. Maverick’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting his palm. After a sigh and some contemplation, he looked at the glowing screen. Lo and behold, it was none other than Admiral Kazansky, or outside of work, Ice.

‘I need to see you.’ Of course he did. After the burnout today during training, what higher up wouldn’t want to see him.

‘Not a good time.’ Because of-fucking-course it wasn’t. All Maverick, in his self-proclaimed old-age-but-let’s-not-act-like-it, wanted to do was go home and sleep like the old man he kept getting told he was.

‘I wasn’t asking.’ One thing Maverick had learned in his lifetime, is that Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky was absolute shit at asking people nicely. Maybe that’s why he had climbed the ranks of the Navy as quickly as he did, but boy did it get beyond annoying. Maverick wanted to slam his head on the bar top, but he had a feeling if he did so it would be against one of Penny’s not explicitly written rules, and he did not want to risk spending his savings on Navy-men’s beer. Again. So, it looked like he would have to make the nearly three hour drive to Ice’s abode. His phone dinged again, so he looked at it with a sigh full of annoyance, but it wasn’t Admiral Kazansky, it was Quinlan.

‘Srry 2 bother, u heard anythn frm Roo’ The way kids typed always confused Maverick, full words were not that difficult.

‘Im driving, don judge me, I can feel the old mn judgmnt frm hre’ Adding to his annoyance, Quinn was texting while driving. ‘Oh joy, how did one of the pilots under your supervision die? Not mission related? Crazy.’ Maverick could already see the headline. To keep her off her phone, Mav decided to call.

“Sup, Mav.” Quin tried to sound less tired than she felt, not wanting her mentor to know the real strain the training was having on everyone, or more so not wanting him to ask her about it.

“Cas, don’t text and drive.” Mav sighed, “So you think calling me, when I drive a 1972 Impala, is any better?” The sarcasm her voice held was immense.

“Just keep your eyes on the road.” Maverick put his hand on his head, slightly massaging his temples. These kids were going to be the death of him. “Why do you think Bradley would talk to me, Casper.” By now, Maverick had made his way to the back deck of the bar, everything less loud, also leaving money on the bar for Penny.

“Long-shot guess to see if he’s contacted anyone… Mav he isn’t home and isn’t returning anyone’s calls.” She had a worried edge to her voice, which Mav completely understood because he had felt just like she sounded.

“So you text me, because you are worried?” He honestly felt a little bit of joy, knowing at least one of the aviators he taught didn’t hate him in totality after today.

“Shut up.” Quinlan grumbled, barely audible over the noise from her driving and from the bar behind Maverick.

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know, kid. Where are you even driving to at…” He looked at the time, his phone displaying 9:47 shining in pale bolded numbers. “Jesus, at nine forty at night.”

“Headed home to see some family…” Quin was never very forthcoming with personal information, but this was indeed a start. At least to Maverick it was. “Thanks for the day off, Mav.” And with that, Quin hung up and continued her drive.

 She was about two and a half hours in, about thirty minutes to go, and Quinlan couldn’t be more ready to get out of her car. The rumbling of the old engine was making her hands numb, all her muscles already sore and tense from training. The drive to Santa Monica was one she had only ever made with Emmelyn. Although Quin and Emmelyn didn’t share the same dad, Quin’s always treated Emmelyn as his, well, that being after he found out about Quin. A DNA test right before entering the Navy found Quinlan’s still very alive dad, contrary to what her mother had told her.

“Did ya get the results yet?” Emmelyn called through the kitchen. Quin, not knowing much about her lineage, or anything about her father for that matter, had decided to complete a DNA test that included health risks along with the family tree. Every time she had brought it up to her mom, she got told no, but now she was eighteen and had her own money from working at the local supply store.

“Just came in the mail, Em. Where’s momma?” Quinlan did buy the kit with her mother’s knowledge, but she still felt guilty opening her results if she were home.

“She’s out at the Cody’s. Think Diane invited her.” Quin nodded, if her mom was at Diane’s house, she’d most certainly be gone for a while. Oh, how mothers could talk.

Quinlan peeled open the envelope, Emmelyn over her shoulder the whole time. First on the paper was the list of genetically predisposed illnesses and her likelihood of getting them. Mostly everything Quin was low risk for, thankfully. Further down was her mothers relatives, which she slightly knew, at least by name, each having a ‘living’ or ‘deceased’ label next to them. And on the back? Her father. Looking down the list from double great grandparents and down, apparently her grandfather was alive. Quinlan paused, eyes hovering over the name of her father. She had known his first name, one night when her mom had a little too much Rye Whiskey and slipped up, but never his last. Next to his name was the label ‘Living’.

“Wait, didn’t momma say Daddy died?” Quin took a minute to respond, Emmelyn still hovering as closely as ever, unsure of the true weight of her statement. “Yeah, she did.” Quin read the name at least five times. Well this was going to be a fun conversation.

And that was the first time Quinlan learned her father was actually living and breathing. The following conversation with her mother, while her mother was unfortunately a bit tipsy on whiskey, went just as well as one would’ve hoped, full of tears and misspoken words. That fight, words never being able to be taken back, is was led Quin to reach out to her dad. Maybe he didn’t know about her beforehand and was slow to warm up, but Quin was beyond glad she had found him.

“Uh… Hi. My name is, uh, is Quinlan Emai. I received some results from a DNA test, and it uh, it told me you’re my dad? Shit, this is so weird. Jesus this could have been an email, I’m one of those people. Um, I don’t really know what the fuck else to say, soo… Call me back when you get a chance? Maybe? Jesus- sorry” After that voicemail to one Navy man, Quin honestly thought about throwing herself off a bridge. This guy was stationed in Cali, Quin living in a small Texan town near the coast. She was hoping, at the least, the man would not return her call. But alas, a few days later, a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” Quinn held her phone, expecting whoever called to be spam.

“Hi, this is Tom Kazansky…” Quinlan froze at the name, “You, uh, you called about a week ago?” “Oh, shit. Uh, hi?” Quin responded after a moment of phone static. Both sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say.

“Fuck, sorry. You’re probably wondering who my mom is. She’s uh, her name is Cecilla Emai. We’re, um, We’re in Texas.” Another few moments of silence followed, Quin could hear the gears in his head turning.

“Oh, beginning of ‘86?” Quin assumed that was when they met. “Well, would make sense. Was born October 1986.” Quinlan honestly didn’t want to talk about her conception date.

“I… wow. Sorry, I uh didn’t expect to have a kid.” Quin chuckled,

 “Yeah, and I didn’t expect to have an alive dad. Momma always said you were dead.” A small noise of surprise escaped Tom.

“She told you I was dead?” the surprise was as clear as day.

 “yeah, said you died so I shouldn’t go lookin’. Guess she was ashamed to have a kid without a dad so she told everyone he was dead.”

“She never even tried to tell me, if she told me…” Tom trailed off, “You’re in the Navy, and I don’t think there is anything that would get momma to leave.” Quinlan did truly wonder what life would be like if her dad was around.

“I at least would’ve given her money… How is she?” Quin gave a disappointed laugh, “usually drunk or not at home. Two kids take a toll, especially when the father of the second is a known felon.” At that, Tom Kazansky was officially speechless.

“Hey, I guess wanting to be a pilot runs in the blood. I just got my naval academy acceptance letter…” Quin trailed off, not knowing why she was telling a man she just honestly met.

“What’re you going in for?” A new form of excitement filled his tone.

“Pilot. Air Force wouldn’t accept the condition of me being my sister’s caretaker.” They proceeded to talk for at least thirty minutes about Tom’s declassified missions and tips from him.

“Who’re you runnin’ up that phone bill with, Q.” Cecilla asked, more of a way as telling her to get off the phone.

“Take a wild, guess momma.” Quin’s voice was edging towards sharp, her mom narrowing her eyes. “Who is it?” Cecilla’s tone matched Quinlan’s.

“My dad. Would you like to say hi? Since, ya know, he isn’t dead.” Quin still held fire from their earlier argument, Tom sat on the other line awkward and unsure of what to do.

“Quinlan Daliah Emai, get off the damn phone right now.” Cecilla’s tone was final, but Quin always had a rebuttal. Afterall, she was the daughter of a stubborn Texan and The famous Iceman.

“You haven’t paid the phone bill since you spent all the cash you got, which wasn’t hardly any, on liquor. Can’t tell me to end a phone call when I pay the price.” Quin sounded nonchalant, her voice matter of fact. Her mother only stared, Tom Kazansky awkwardly trying to find an out from the call.

“If you don’t hang up that damn phone, I will find a way to pull your application.” Cecilla’s voice held the same calmness, which Tom could only guess was terrifying in person.

“If you weren’t so drunk off your ass, Ma, you would know I’ve already been accepted. Now if you’d excuse me, I have a previously absentee father to get to know.” Quinlan shut the pocket door to the kitchen, done with the soon to be argument with her mother.

“I… is that, is that normal?” Tom’s voice sounded incredibly unsure, unaware if that was even appropriate to ask.

“The truth? Yeah. As song as Em isn’t home.” Quinlan did everything in her power to not fight in front of her little sister, even if her mother provoked the living hell out of her.

“I assume Em is your sister?” Tom questioned lightly, gently.

“Yeah, her name is Emmelyn Rose Emai. Momma has a thing for flower middle names. She is eight. Thinks we have the same Dad.” Quin’s tone edged towards sadness at the last statement, wishing Em was her full-blood sister, but she still treated the kid with every intent that she was.

“Well… I would say I’m slightly better than a convicted felon.” Tom huffed a laugh, and so did Quin, “Honestly, I’d love to get to know you more, and Emmelyn for the matter, she’s young enough to still have a childhood with a Dad.” To say the least, Quin was shocked. She expected him to either say nothing, or say hello and move on, but she certainly wasn’t ready for this.

“Shit, you’re serious?” She was dumbfounded.

“I mean if you are open to that. In my family, we take kin very seriously. I’ve missed eighteen years, why should I miss any more?” Tom sounded very sure, which calmed Quin’s mind a little bit.

“Quinlan Emai, I’ve given you five minutes, now get off the damn phone and go get your sister.” Cecilla’s voice yelled through the shut door, muffled and barely recognizable over the phone.

“Fuck, uh sorry, I have to go get Em, mom’s had too much to drive. Bye!” Quin quickly hung up, ending her first ever conversation with her very much alive father.

            As far as first meetings go, Quin’s very much could’ve gone better. But, it led to having a relationship with her Dad, and Emmelyn having one too. That phone call turned into summer visits, and a place to stay for them both once their mother passed two years later. Quin pulled up to the personal housing of Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, the place she called home even despite her rural accent. She turned off the trembling engine, hands finally free of the incessant buzzing sensation. Quin decided to park around the back of the house, opting to surprise her siblings in the morning, having seen their cars in the driveway. Quin got out of her car, grabbing her back up travel bag from her trunk as quietly as possible.

            She walked up to the back door, unlocking it with her spare key she kept on her keychain escribed with her callsign. A gift from Rooster, no less. She had texted Ice previous to her arrival, not wanting to scare him by showing up at random. The light shown through the door of his office, surprising Quin that he was still awake. At 61, being awake after 9:30 was definitely a large feat. She padded lightly to the office, knocking on the door lightly before stepping in.

            “Hey, Dad.” He turned his head at her voice, meeting her soft, but nonetheless tired, smile. He returned it with his own, although not quite reaching his eyes like it did just a few years before. Ice was bad about voicing his problems, something Quin learned was hereditary and compounded from his years in the Navy. They stared at each other for a few minutes, then she realized he wasn’t speaking, the white cursor on his monitor blinking as the black screen remained bare.

            “Fuck.” Quin’s whispered curse was the only sound in the air. Ice turned to type and with her increasingly watery eyes, quin watched the screen.

            ‘I’m fine, you have other things to worry about.’ The white words stared back like little knives picking her tear ducts.

            “You say that as you are, quite literally, my dad.” Quin huffed a laugh, although pained by the fact of his health.

            ‘Come sit.’ Quin pulled up a chair, facing him as he cleared his screen.

            ‘How’s Bradley.’ Quin just looked down at her clasped hands, shaking her head.

            “Haven’t heard from him since before I left. Didn’t even see him after Seresin outed his death wish.” Quin looked up from her hands, Ice looking at her expectantly. He knew the hurt and the issues they had faced, firsthand for that matter, but he also knew she miraculously still cared.

            ‘Just talk to him.’ Ice kept the same stare. “Really Dad, how am I supposed to talk to someone who doesn’t acknowledge my existence?” Her face was tired, not wanting to have that conversation at the current moment in time. Ice didn’t type anything new, nor did he delete his previous words. A low cough left his being, hurting Quin to hear.

            “Go to bed, kid.” His voice was gravel-filled and quiet, displaying his pain. Quin looked at him for a few more moments before standing up and leaving his office, but not before throwing in a small ‘goodnight’. As she made her way up to her bedroom, quietly passing her siblings rooms, she couldn’t wait to lay down and knock out. The days problems would just have to wait till tomorrow.

———————————————————

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[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Writer of the Month: Jamespotterthefirst

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @jamespotterthefirst! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: Jamespotterthefirst Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played? 

I started playing back in 2018. I kept seeing this thing called “playchoices” trending as number 1 on Tumblr (lol remember those days?). This would happen, without fail, almost every week! When I clicked on it, the posts were all about the finale of a royal story (The Royal Romance!). People made the most hilarious posts, complete with memes. I had no idea what it was, but I gathered it was an app. I downloaded it, and the rest is history. 

The first book I played was Desire and Decorum. It was absolute torture because it wasn’t completed yet. So I binged the available chapters. Yes, I spent real money on keys and diamonds, telling myself at least I wasn't spending that money on drugs. It was so much fun waiting for a new chapter every week, even if I’m an impatient mess. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the fandom almost immediately after downloading the app. 

As I sat in my living room, tapping my foot and waiting for the new D&D chapter to drop, I went back into the playchoices tag for content. It felt good to find other people who loved the story as much as I did. There were other users out there who were also waiting impatiently for the new chapter, writing fics and discussing theories in the meantime. There were also some of the funniest memes I have ever seen in my life. At first, I would quietly read and reblog. Then, I slowly started posting my own thoughts and theories (which were not very good lol but hey, this is tumblr after all).

3- How did you pick your url name? 

My life is one hyperfixation after another… The one before Choices was Harry Potter. More specifically, the Marauders era. I used to write for the pairing called “Jily”, composed of Harry Potter’s (dead) parents. Kelsey (@takeharryandgo) is a witness of just how much I love James Potter, Harry’s (dead) dad. In fact, our shared love for the pairing and character is one of the things that brought us together. 

In short, this URL is a reference to James Potter the first, Harry’s (dead) dad. Not James Sirius Potter the second, Harry Potter’s (living?) son. 

I saved it as a sideblog, meant only for writing resources for me to use at a later time. One day, I decided I didn’t want the followers on my main page to see all the Choices spam I was posting, so I resurrected the JP blog. 

4- Go back to your archive and tell us about the first post on your Choices blog. 

My first Choices post was a shitty theory about Desire & Decorum: 

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I’ve been writing fanfiction since I was a literal child. I used to write in a notebook and my friends would read during recess. It was awful but they were into it. One day, I used up the whole notebook and my friend was desperate for the next part of the story. I told her I needed to wait until my mom took me to the store (literal child) to get a new one. My friend got me a new one by the end of the day lol.

TL;DR that puts me at about 20+ years of writing. 

6- What is your favorite Choices book to write about?

Without a doubt, Open Heart! 

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it?

Oh god, the first fanfic I wrote was Lily Evans and James Potter from the Harry Potter universe. I forgot the exact title, but it was named after an Avril Lavigne lyric. Again, I was a child, don’t judge me lol. It’s handwritten in a notebook I still have somewhere, but I will never open it again lest I die of cringe. 

My first Choices fic, on the other hand, was a Desire and Decorum fic called “A Wedding Gift” that only like 5 people read at the time. 

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Oof. This answer changes depending on the day you ask me. I always overthink it and end up saying picking a favorite fic is like picking a favorite child. To avoid being here all day, however, I’m going to say: Fake Husband, She Walks in Beauty, and Lovely.

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but could use a little more love?

Definitely, the fic I didn’t expect to do well at all if my first Open Heart fic: Lovely. 

I was so naive back then, knowing nothing about the Open Heart writing fandom. I had no idea what format or tags to use when posting. I was afraid there would be no readers out there who wanted to read a silly little story about my MC posting a thirst trap. All I knew was that the latest chapter of Open Heart Year 2 inspired an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it. 

I posted it and I was so incredibly lucky to receive so much support. Words cannot explain how special that was. To this day, I cannot verbalize how grateful I am for that. 

There isn’t really a fic I can think of that could use more love. It always amazes me that anyone gives my fics their time. So any feedback my fics get will always be valued and treasured by me. 

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Oh no. 

If forced to choose, I’d say fluff. 

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Absolutely! While I try to make every MC different, I often pull from experience when I write. My Open Heart MC and I have a lot of things in common (heritage, hometown, astrological sign, etc.) But I also wanted her to be her own character with life choices that are different from mine. Since I'm very boring, it definitely makes for better fiction that way. 

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

It depends on the day. Some days I struggle the most with dialogue. Others, my biggest struggle is descriptions. It's rare when I feel confident in both when I write. 

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

*laughs nervously in unfinished series*

There are a few series I have yet to finish. Once again, I apologize for leaving them untouched for so long! I plan to get my shit together soon! 

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

No! 

I don't think I could look anyone in the eye if they read some of the stuff I've written, especially for Choices. 

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

I strongly believe that one of the best ways to learn as a writer is reading. As such, I believe I've learned from most pieces I've read, particularly published rom com novels. In the fanfiction world, I admire my lovely friend @takeharryandgo. I've had the absolute joy of following her writing for over a decade. And with every work, I am still amazed by her masterful way with words! And her characterization is always spot-on. I simply love to read her spellbinding work and learn from the master! 

Other writers/creators I admire are:

@heauxplesslydevoted- one of the first OH writers I've ever read! Her smut is top-tier!

@jerzwriter - her stories, dialogue, and characterization are a delight to read. Her angst is painful. Her smut is sizzling hot! 

@liaromancewriter - a true master at romance! Her writing style is magical and synonymous with the best of rom-coms! 

@genevievemd - I bow down because the amount of love and care she puts into every piece truly makes her work special! 

 @lucy-268 - I have always respected the amount of research she puts into every piece. She pours so much care into it so that the narrative flows seamlessly! 

@a-crepusculo - her writing is so vivid and immersive. Reading her work is like listening to the most beautiful of symphonies!

@writer-ish - she is such a master at the craft! Her characterization is so vivid that the reader will fall in love no matter the format. Her text edits are legendary! 

@bex-la-get - such a talented and dedicated writer! She also pours hours of research into her work, ensuring every detail makes sense! 

@potionsprefect - she's such a creative and talented writer. She develops writing ideas like no one else I've ever seen! 

@headoverheelsforramsey- I love her storytelling and characterization! She's created a beautiful, inspiring, and intelligent MC for all of us to adore!

@gryffindordaughterofathena - her writing style is one of the most original I've ever seen. Reading her work feels like reading the loveliest of poetry! 

@coffeeheartaddict2- the dedication she puts into her work blows me away! She's daring when exploring themes in her writing, and she's not afraid to pull from personal experience. 

@lsvdw-blog - the person I'm sending my therapy bill to. Just kidding! Her writing is beautiful, even when it's the most painful angst. 

@trappedinfanfiction - she is such a lovely writer. The amount of detail she's given both of her MC's back stories has my absolute respect! 

@quixoticdreamer16 - I adore her MC and the wholesome, beautiful background she's given her! 

@mysticalgalaxysstuff - Another MC that has stolen my heart. I am so happy she started writing this past year because she's a real talent! 

@peonierose - love her beautiful MC and the beautiful love story she built for her with Bryce! 

@cariantha - a brilliant writer with talent for days! 

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

I would love to see She Walks in Beauty along with its series (1800s AU) in live action. Imagine Ana de Armas and David Gandy in period costumes? That alone would be worth it! 

17- Do you write original stories? 

I've crafted and outlined original stories before but I've never actually written them. One of my biggest goals for the new year is to finally start. Wish me luck! 

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

I love reading, hiking, and dancing! 

Yes, I picked the most “impressive” of my hobbies to seem cool. On most days, you'll catch me cuddling with my dog or bf watching YouTube/TikTok/Hell's Kitchen reruns lol. 

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

I used the orange 🧡 and purple 💜 hearts a lot because they're my favorite colors!

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

For the record, I am also contractually obligated to read anything Kelsey writes 😘 

Thank you so much to every single reader who has given my work a chance these past three years!

Thank you to the wonderful mods of CFWC for all you do to support writers in the Fandom! 

[jjsstars]

tw rarepair week 23: day 3, soulmates au cora/scott/lydia

|| for @teenwolfrarepairevents event

|| this is in the same au as this post with bartender!lydia & mechanic!scott

|| tags: soulmates au, bartender!lydia, mechanic!scott, set after canon

Cora takes a second to steady herself once she steps out of the old rusted truck she bought with the little money she saved up, refusing to spend any of Derek’s or Peters. They don’t know she’s coming back to Beacon Hills, nobody does, not that she keeps in touch with anyone but her family but still. She’ll be surprising everyone.

The gas station/mechanic shop/bar she stops at makes her cringe, it’s run down and dusty from the sand under her feet, the sign for the mechanic shop is turned off in the late hour but the bar is still open. Technically all Cora needed was gas but she’s half an hour away from Beacon Hills and unsure if she’s really ready to show up on her brothers door step, she decides getting a drink from the bar will ease her.

Stepping into the bar is announced by a loud squeak of the doors, which catches the attention of the two people inside. The bartender is hard to see behind the guy who’s sat on a bar stool with an empty glass in front of him, they’ve both stopped talking, not turning towards Cora but probably listening to every move she makes. She steps to the bar and slides herself onto a stool despite it, it’s too late in the night to care about strangers judging her.

“What can I get for you—?” The bartenders voice dies with an abrupt suck in of air, Cora’s head lifts to look up and- Lydia Martin?- shit.

“Uh- sorry, uh, what can I get for you?” Lydia throws on a quick smile and tries to act like she doesn’t know who’s sitting in front of her, part of Cora appreciates it, she probably knows Cora’s not supposed to be here.

“Just a soda.” She croaks out before Lydia’s turning on her heels to grab a cup that she quickly fills with sprite, it’s what Cora would’ve ordered but she doesn’t know why or how Lydia would know that.

“Here you go, uh- I- I think Scott recognizes you.” Lydia’s head nods towards the other side of the bar, and sure enough Scott McCall is sitting there, mouth dropped open and eyes wide like he just saw a ghost. Cora could laugh at how he still resembles a puppy dog if she wasn’t halfway mortified that he’s about to call Derek.

“Hi there.” She says with a small quirked brow when Scott’s mouth slams shut and he starts to fumble with the mechanic uniform jacket he has on. Cora glances back to Lydia, she shrugs to say she has no idea what he’s doing either, and just as Cora goes to ask, Scott’s suddenly shoving himself into the seat beside her.

“You’re you- or- I knew that but- but it’s you, both of you.” He rambles and Hale has the sudden realization of what the hell he’s talking about. What they said, what Scott just said, it’s scrawled across her ribs right below what Lydia said. It’s them.

“Look, look.” Her eyes land on Scott’s ribs where he lifts the grease covered tank top he has on, sure enough, it all matches. The same spot and same words.

“Fuck me.” Lydia says in a half laugh as she holds her own shirt up. They all match, the three of them, Cora doesn’t even need to check, she just knows. She’s memorized those words since they appeared on her fifth birthday, she always dreamed about meeting her soulmates. The idea of have two only making her want to meet them more, made her long deeper.

“Wait but I’ve met you two before.” It obviously doesn’t matter but she still has to say it.

“But we’ve never been in the same place all at once.” Scott says with an affirming nod from Lydia that yes, he’s right, Cora smiles with it. She knows Lydia’s a genius of some sort and Scott looking to her makes her heart warm.

“What’re you even doing here?” Shit, she has to say it.

“Uh- I’m going to Derek’s, I left where I was and have kinda been aimlessly driving around. Ended up here.” Maybe it was the universe pulling her towards her soulmates, fate of some type. Maybe it’s not the fucked up early twenties breakdown she thought it was.

“You should come home with us.” Scott jumps to say, that half cracked grin on his face that Cora’s only see in the pictures Derek’s shared with her. There was too much chaos and life or death going on for her to see it in person, till now, it’s definitely better in person.

“You two live together?” They nod.

“We started working here together back when Scott was first bit, now we have an apartment together, it’s in the same building as Derek’s loft.” The redhead summarizes as she pours a drink, presumably for herself since neither Scott or Cora can get drunk.

“Are you dating?” Another nod.

“We figured we’d break up when we finally met our soulmates but it’s you so we don’t have to. And- and we don’t have to start dating right away, there’s a second bedroom in the apartment and it’s there rent free if you want it.” Scott smells of nerves and a small bit of hope, Cora hesitates just a moment but leans to kiss his cheek. His skin warms her lips, she can feel how he smiles with the action and it brings a sense of comfort to her.

“You are very cute. And yes, I will come stay with you guys. The longer I avoid Derek and Peter the better.” She huffs once she pulls back, ignoring that Lydia’s typing away on her phone and might’ve just taken a picture of them.

“Well let’s go, we were supposed to close an hour ago anyways. And we can talk more on the ride home.” Lydia finishes her glass off before flipping the switch to turn off the neon sign that sits above the bar. She takes both Cora and Scott’s hand as they walk out, Cora happily lets her and lets Scott pile them all into Cora’s truck while saying they’ll be back here tomorrow to work anyways so leaving Scott’s car isn’t a big deal.

[silvfyre-writings]

Hallow's Eve (BSD Fanfic)

This is the last oneshot in my bramran hoard that I have (I still have another chapter of royalty au and the second part of bakery au to go up so stay tuned for those) which means that there'll be a slowdown in fics for a while. My writing motivation has tanked right now, but I'm doing what I can! I have ideas cooking, I just need the bunnies to actually come forth and do their job lmao!

Anyway, enjoy the fic, it fits the halloween vibe~

Halloween was a mostly western holiday, yet it was one of Ranpo’s favourite holiday’s and it absolutely was because it was an excuse to put on some crazy, out-there outfit and not be judged for it by those around him. Well, not those in the immediate vicinity of him because they were well accustomed to his shenanigans, but just the general population who always stared at things out of the norm—and he was by far one of the most unnormal things they saw in their day to day lives. Not that he cared of course; in fact, he relished in the attention those stares gave him, basked in their glares and judgemental stares without a care in the world.

He couldn’t wait to see those stares tonight.

Ever since he’d come into Fukuzawa’s care, he’d taken to Halloween as his favourite day of the year. Christmas just reminded him of the family he’d lost, and well, he didn’t care much for Easter, although he did like being able to eat as much chocolate as he wanted whenever it came around. Halloween though? Costumes and sweets, what wasn’t to love about it? Of course, being a western holiday meant that it wasn’t as celebrated as he wished it were, but that was fine with him. He’d managed to convince the Agency to throw a party for it every year since it’s inauguration, and this year was no different.

Or perhaps it would be considering there were more people than before coming.

As soon as Ranpo mentioned the party in the office, Atsushi had asked if he could invite his Guild friends, which in turn led to others asking if they could bring along other companions that didn’t work—or significant others if they had any—and Ranpo would be a hypocrite to say no considering he’s forced his own partner to come.

Although Bram had seemed interested in the idea when he’d mentioned it, so that had to mean something.

Not that he knew because said vampire had promptly kicked him out of their shared dorm that day when he’d gotten home from work, claiming that he was busy and to occupy himself until it was time for them to go to the party. And honestly, Ranpo had been too stunned to do more than stand outside his door for a few minutes before leaving to go and bother someone else that could never say no to him, no matter what it was that he asked.

“I should start charging you for all the food you eat whenever you come here.” Poe huffs as he watches Ranpo empty his cupboard of snacks—sure the snacks are specifically for the genius detective, but he’d expected them to last a little longer than they did.

“As if you care how much of your money I spend.” Ranpo says and shoves a handful of snacks into his mouth from where he’s lazing about on Poe’s couch. “Besides, I deduced that you weren’t busy with Mushitaro-kun gone.”

Poe sighs and takes a seat on the opposite couch. “He’s gone to replace the snacks that you’ll be eating. They were for the Agency’s party tonight.”

“Don’t act is if you don’t want my company, Poe-kun.” Ranpo grins at his friend. “Lemme guess, Mushitaro-kun expressed his displeasure at my occupying your time again?”

Poe’s silence told him everything he needed to know.

The writer coughs and moves to lift Karl from his shoulders, seating the raccoon in his lap instead, stroking his furry companion as he addresses Ranpo. “Normally you spend the afternoons preparing for the parties the Agency decides to throw. Why are you here instead of your own place, Ranpo-kun?”

“Boo, Poe-kun, aren’t you a detective yourself? Figure it out.” Ranpo says through a mouthful of snacks.

Poe rolls his eyes, just barely visible behind his fringe. “Of course I figured it out, I just figured you would want the conversation to go on a little longer.”

Ranpo shrugs. He’s not one to care about the necessities of carrying a conversation; small talk isn’t his greatest strength since he can just deduce what the person he’s talking to wants or needs, and small talk with Poe is normally impossible considering that the writer is much the same, if second best to Ranpo himself of course. But he has invaded Poe’s home without invitation, he can play nice this one. “Bram-kun kicked me out ‘cause he’s doing something I’m not allowed to see.”

“Oh?” Poe tilts his head to reveal one of his eyes, gleaming with curiosity. “And you haven’t deduced what he’s doing? I’m shocked.”

Ranpo shoots Poe a look. “I don’t deduce Bram-kun’s actions unless I need to. He’s asked me not to.”

The writer’s lips twitch in amusement, although there’s a wistful look that he isn’t quite able to hide. “If you listened to his wishes, then he must be important to you.”

“Are you jealous?” Ranpo asks. He knows the answer of course, but he’s curious what Poe has to say on the matter.

Poe shrugs, and runs a hand over Karl’s spine. “Perhaps a little, but it will fade. I am happy for you regardless because you are a friend.”

“Good. Besides, you and Mushitaro seem to be growing rather close~”

In an instant, Poe’s cheeks began to burn red and he turns away from Ranpo. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh huh, sure you don’t.”

“Mushitaro-kun and I are just housemates.” Poe tries to argue.

 Ranpo grins mischievously. “Housemates.”

Poe lets out a strained noise, burying his face into his hands just as the door opens and said housemate steps into the room. Mushitaro takes one look at Poe before looking towards Ranpo with displeasure. “Will you please stop tormenting the poor man.”

“I could torment you instead if you like.”

“Ugh, please don’t.” Mushitaro grimaces, shutting the door behind him. “Just seeing you is bad enough.”

Ranpo spends the next couple of hours teasing his friends and clearing out the house of its snacks before he leaves with Poe to go to the Agency for the part. Unlike Ranpo, Poe had chosen not to dress up for the party—not that Ranpo cared, he knew that the writer would just find a corner to hide in the moment they arrived anyway, and it meant that more of the attention would be on him, just the way he liked it. Because Ranpo really liked Halloween and he wasn’t going to not dress up when given the chance to.

He'd gone with a witchy theme this time, hat and all, even finding a broom to complete the look with. As far as costumes go, this one is rather simple compared to his previous ones, but still just as good in his opinion; his shirt is white with ruffles on the collar and the end of his sleeves, and his pants are brown like his regular ones, only they were bloused just below the knee to show off his striped socks and boots. Simple, yet good looking, and his hat that is decorated with a moon and a cat only make him look even better.

He could only hope that Bram would appreciate it, considering it was the first Halloween the vampire was celebrating with him and the Agency.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to arrive at the Agency—with Ranpo first texting Bram to make sure it was okay to go ahead of his partner only to be told that Bram was already there—and Ranpo is quick to dash up the stairs the moment they enter the building, excitement taking the reins at that point. He feels a little guilty to abandon Poe so quick, but he can’t help it, he just wants to see Bram after not seeing him all day. Curiosity keeps him moving, and it takes all the restraint he has to open the door gently instead of throwing it open.

Just barely, the door still bangs against the wall.

And wow, if he’s not greeted by the truly unexpected sight of Bram in a costume.

Specifically, a detective costume like what he normally wears to work.

The vampire’s eyes meet his own, and widen comically for a moment before they disappear behind the hat that he drags down over his face—Ranpo’s hat to be exact. And even from the doorway, he can see the blush working its way down Bram’s neck, turning the skin an embarrassed pink. Beside the vampire, Yosano stands with a grin on her face, and she reaches up to clap Bram on the shoulder before disappearing into the growing crowd of partygoers, leaving him to the mercy of Ranpo.

“So this is why you kicked me out.” Ranpo says with a grin as he strides up to Bram, winding his arms around one of the man’s own and tugging to reveal his face. “I didn’t think you would be the kind of person to dress up.”

“I am not.” Bram mumbles, pointedly looking elsewhere. “But I was told that you enjoyed this holiday so… I wish to celebrate with you. Yosano-san suggested… this outfit.”

Now it’s Ranpo’s turn to blush, and he simultaneously curses and praises Yosano for her thinking. Of course she couldn’t resist interfering when given the opportune to. “It suits you, so don’t be so embarrassed about it.”

“I am not one to dress up. It feels strange.”

“Well you aren’t the only one who’s dressed up, so it’ll feel less strange in a bit.” Ranpo leans forward to grasp Bram’s cheeks and he stretches to plant a tender kiss on the vampire’s lips. “My handsome vampire detective, will you protect me this night?”

Bram smiles against his lips, and gives a kiss of his own. “It would be my honour, my love. Let us enjoy the evening, and do show me what you like about this holiday so much.”

“With pleasure.”

Word Count: 1660

[cowboyjen68]

Oh cowboyjen, the world feels so harsh and damaging and I feel so small. I’m a child of abuse and I feel like I had to teach myself everything to heal myself - but not before I fucked up my life and squandered a windfall that could have ensured my comfortable retirement. I’m so sad and angry and ashamed. I was only doing the best I could at the time. Why is the world so messed up and harsh? Do you think it’s getting better? I’m heartbroken.

I know the world is scary and unpredictable and dangerous. The bad news is, it always had been. Which is also the good news in some ways. The cycle of our world is that it is a constant battle of unfair vs fair and love vs hate and good vs evil and dangerous vs safe. When humans are involved the there will always be an up and down and back and forth in the world we are given to live in. It can be awful to see hurt in the world but can be reassuring to know it is nothing new, only the details and humans find a way to bring comfort and happiness to each other and themselves time after time. 

I had a pretty happy and healthy upbringing and I STILL managed to waste the hard earned money my mom and dad left to me. It was not a windfall but sure would have made my life more financially stable.  At the time I let my wife spend most of it and I take the blame. She was following her own patterns from growing up poor and I did not have the courage to say “no”. The loss caused me to do a few things that, had they continued, could have had a devastating impact on my life. 

After we split up I had the choice of continuing to spend my energy on wishing things were different and to wonder “what if” or do some actual work to make my life better, if not immediately, at least in my future.  My friends encouraged me to get a therapist and to figure out what priorities were important to me. The problem I was facing, which sounds like you are also struggling with, was the fact that I felt so overwhelmed I was stuck in the mud of what was done and unable to know how or what step to take to get back to solid ground. 

I listed on paper what I wanted. I listened to myself. The Me now and not the one from the past. It took several tries to be honest with myself and to lay out a plan. I was, like you, so ashamed of my actions I wasn’t seeking help or trying to find ways to improve my lot in life. When I asked for help I was sure people were judging me and I had to be okay with that happening to get the the resources that could give me some leverage to move on and improve my life.

The pep talk is you are not the only one who screwed up life by not being financially responsible and you can make up for lost chances. Now here are a few of the solid lessons I learned:

Ask your bank for help. Mine has a FREE financial planning/debt reduction planning service and app that I knew nothing about. Look to social services, even ones you think you are not eligible to use. Social workers are masters of networking and if they can’t help they might know someone who can. Don’t ever be ashamed to use local foodbanks or clothing banks. Saving 20.00 from the grocery store is 20.00 you can save or use to put gas in the car to continue working. Don’t spend money to save money. You don’t need an pricey app or special account or fancy investments. A simple free savings account at a credit union is a great start. 

I work three jobs and 7 days a week. I take any hours offered me and I am never afraid to take a few Cash Under The Table jobs when they arise. At 54 I didn’t want to be working 60 to 80 hours a week. BUT I have goals and that is what it is going to take to reach them. I did however, promise myself to not be miserable at my job so I work at three places I love. this was my compromise. I will work my ass off but not as jobs I hate.  This is my good fortune and I don’t take any of that for granted.  

There will be sacrifices to play catch up in your life BUT you can decide which things you are willing to sacrifice and what you will not. Be aware of these decisions and don’t act out of emotions. Weigh the next step with your happiness and how it will affect your success to find the balance. 

You will get your head above water again but it does take work. Sadly our life is not a cute 3 minute montage with a catchy song in some feel good rags to riches movie. It takes time and effort and focus. I do promise. The work, and YOU are worth it. 

[forkaround]

i don’t know if you would have an answer but do you have any clue why only friends seems to have so little budget but dangerous romance seems to have a lot? with 2 huge pairs that have a lot of fans and make a lot of money for gmmtv and 2 other actors (mark and neo) that ppl love + a respected director i’m surprised it doesn’t have a lot of budget compared to dangerous romance that’s introducing a new pair (yes they were in nlmg but it’s still their first time leading a show together) and is a high school bl (even though the plot seems intense). then again i’m not sure who exactly worked on dangerous romance and if the budget has anything to do with that.

Hey anon! sorry for the late reply but I wanted to see more of Dangerous Romance before saying anything.

So the Director of DR is Lit Phadung Samajarn who is also the director and screenwriter for a lot of other BLs. Love in Translation, Love Mechanics, My Engineer and SOTUS. [There is a theme of enemies to lovers here.]

And the Screenwriters are Pratchaya Thavornthummarut and Bee Pongsate Lucksameepong. They are both BIG names in the BL world and specifically in GMMTV. Some of GMMTV's biggest shows were written by them. Bee also co-wrote Kinnporsche and Bad Buddy. For Pratchaya I can see literally every famous GMMTV work in his resume.

Also Perth has been around in the BL world for a long time.

P'Aof is the producer.

So the Behind the Scenes talent is huge in this show.

The Only Friends team is very strong as well. I just wanted to mention the DR team by name.

Now for the most part I can only speculate and it all seems to come down to Product Placement. DR has it. OF doesn't. Why? I don't know. It could be executives didn't want to have their product in OF or they didn't trust the show would get people to buy their product because it would attract that type of audience or it won't be able to convince the viewer, which I do find absurd tbh. Another theory could be the creators didn't want it. It could be GMMTV didn't want it. It could be they blew through the budget on the 90s music Ray likes and such things but it could also be the artist was/is a GMMTV artist. But at the end of the day, unless someone comes out with what the reason is, I doubt we will find out. It's all about money and who can convince people to spend the most and that's not a bad thing. Money is important, it's how we live. In a perfect would it would be different but it's not a perfect world.

I won't go off of actors to judge the budget of a show since actors seem to be the cheapest item. That sounded bad but I don't mean it like that. Renting places, the equipment, marketing and many other things take much more budget than the actors. Unless they are like RDJ or SRK level, at which point you can and should judge the budget of a product from it's stars. I think the only Thai equivalent I know is MileApo. But even that doesn't feel right. Like they don't compare to the stardom of RDJ or SRK.

[quietpeaceablelife]

23 August 2022

My response to a beautiful Filipina woman who was riddled with self hatred and insecurity:

Hi my dear. It hurts me that you hate our race but I understand how you feel as a fellow Filipina.

Think about it like this… the more time we spend caring about what others think, they will become idols that bring us far from God and then there is less time we have to honour God, spread His gospel, serve others.

Our bodies can perish at any given moment! But what we do in our lives will be remembered and judged!

Inner beauty, the beauty of kindness, helping and serving others cannot be traded by outer appearance. God looks at our hearts. God is all that matters.

Being loved by someone so perfect is already so flattering that the approval of men don’t stand a chance to God’s divine validation because He is the Almighty Creator, (He literally made this world and you) who loves you no matter what grades or degree you got, no matter how you look, no matter how much money you have, He doesn’t care about those mundane things!!!

People will abandon you and forsake you but by God’s promise if you believe in Jesus, if you love Him and you trust in Him only, He will never leave you nor forsake you and That’s every reason to put Him first. Why put people who will measure and value your worth based on your looks, grades and what you can bring to the world when you can have God who loves you no matter what???

Nothing else compares!! Nothing else matters!!!

This why the First commandment for a reason.

People will see how beautiful you are through your true works and fruits; how kind you are, how strong you are, how brave you are, how wise you are, how generous you are, and man, how it feels so nice to be around someone who is like that!

When I encounter a nice person, my heart feels so at peace and I can’t forget them.

Too much worrying about ‘self’, will lead you to destruction. I love you. ❤️God loves you and He never did a bad job with you. Filipinos and all races are equally beautiful, it’s the enemy that has brainwashed us to believe we are ugly or uglier than others and he has alot of fun watching us compare ourselves with others, wasting our time. The devil is a scammer!

God made you so that you may glorify Him.

Once you realise this and embrace your beauty, you will shine bright and you will thank Him one day. 💖✨

If I have one advice to give you, it would be watch Desiring God - How to stop obsession over appearance, and avoid all mirrors. Don’t waste your precious time on worrying about ‘self’ and become self ‘less’. God will shine through you. Pleasing God will become your new strength and life source. You won’t want to stop! And when you please God, it’ll feel like your on top of the world.

Imagine being worthy of praise from the Almighty and ever living God. We are already so so so blessed to be worthy of life, sacrifice and attention given by Him. Can you imagine that???❤️❤️❤️✝️

Lastly, try to see others through the Spirit.

We are all spirits, bound by flesh.

This one’s a bit hard but, try not to view others by the flesh/outer appearance but by their spirit! ☺️

[yutafrita]

The Eternal Tragedy- CHAPTER TWO

Chapter ONE/ TWO/ THREE/ FOUR/ P/ B

⋆☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡°✩🪐°. ⋆ ･: ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡°✩⋆ ･:

DO YOU HAVE A COMRADE?

Pairing(s): Mafia!Yuta x Reader, Mafia!Sungchan x Reader Reader Pronouns: She/ Her Genre: Angst, Sci-Fi, Fantasy Chapter Word Count: 6.3K Warnings: Graphic violence, blood, alcohol use, references to catastrophic sci-fi events, references to sexual assault Masterlist

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It started with flowers on your mirror at work. It was a bouquet of sunflowers wrapped neatly in a red tulle. Always with a note attached.

You had no idea why Sungchan would spend as much money as he was getting you sunflowers. They were impossible to grow on Mars and could only be farmed from Earth’s moon, making them obscenely expensive. You had never even touched real ones until the day after you first declined Sungchan’s offer.

Sunflowers had always reminded you of earth and the stories from the planet your grandfather would share with you. Anytime you studied old artworks from the period when humanity was on earth, you could almost always see the sunflowers there, calling to you.

But, how could Sungchan have guessed that these were the flowers you had always dreamed about? Tulips and roses had become just as rare a commodity as sunflowers, yet it was these that he chose. 

Several days after declining Sungchan’s initial offer, you headed out to work. Opening your apartment door you saw Yuta perched outside. Annoyed, you quickly locked your door and pushed past him.

“Not even a ‘hello?’ Or a, ‘why are you here?’” he sniggered, quickly catching up and matching your pace out of your apartment complex and onto the street.

“How did you even get into my complex? You need a card to even enter,” you stopped to ask him, ignoring the toothpick jutting out from his teeth.

“I just followed someone in- your neighbors are very nice,” you wished you could punch that stupid smirk off his face. You huffed, tightened your grip on the backpack you took to work and started back down the block.

“You know, every bouquet of sunflowers costs about a half a million bucks,” Yuta continued, matching your pace easily. “Even dead, those things can go for a very pretty penny.”

“He can have them back,” you refused to have something as silly as flowers hanging over your head, no matter how much you actually did like seeing them.

Yuta shook his head, taking out his toothpick. “It’s just very bold of you to be carrying them so openly every night into your apartment.”

“Is that a threat?”

“You’re quite confrontational,” he mused. Yuta followed behind you into the alley, shaking hands with several of the vendors as he did so.

“I’ve already told Sungchan- I don’t want that job. And I don’t like you just… showing up at my home,” you hissed the last part, not wanting any of the alley patrons to hear you.

“Well, Sungchan is just concerned about your safety, and I’m no one if not a people pleaser,” Yuta kept his eyes on the alley, his eyes scanning the shuffle of vendors.

“Bullshit. He sent you to intimidate me.”

Yuta whistled, his tail wagging enough for you to see it. “You’re feisty- that’s going to get you into trouble.”

You were trying to develop a comeback before he walked away from you, whistling as he did so, tail swaying playfully. “Bastard,” you muttered.

Slipping past the security guard after you got your coffee, you were greeted by yet another bouquet at your station.

“He splurged this time,” Seulgi whistled at you. Irene was having Seulgi fasten her red corset, who nodded towards you as she tightened the fastens on her cat-clawed friend. Shotaro had themed the night Angels versus Devils. It was clearly one of Seulgi’s favorite nights judging by the fact that she temporarily dyed her bunny ears red.

Seulgi was right- he did splurge. The bouquet was a mix of yellow tulips and sunflowers, easily double the already exorbitant price he had spent on the previous ones. It was clear to you that he was ramping up the pleading. You tried to pay the bouquet no mind as you changed out from your street clothes into the outfit you had shoved into your backpack.

“Oh thank god I’m not the only one dressing as an angel tonight,” Goeun smiled as she saw you put the small white wings onto the back of your short white dress.

“Bor-ing,” Seulgi teased.

“I’m just reusing an old halloween costume,” you admitted. 

“Maybe Sungchan will think it’s boring too,” Irene hummed. 

Seulgi sighed. “I still don’t understand why you won’t just take that job.”

“Not everyone comes from a syndicate family, Seulgi. I mean- I’d take the job too, but she has every right not to,” Irene defended.

“A job’s a job,” Seulgi shrugged. You all got ready with minimal chatting before Shotaro entered, clipboard first with a small halo on his head.

“Good evening ladies!” he cheered. After you all took your assignments, you stepped out from the beaded curtain to head over to the bartop, a familiar figure speaking to the security guard outside of your dressing room.

“Pretend to be excited to see me again, at least,” Yuta teased, seeming to enjoy the irritated look on your face. Scrunching your nose slightly, you ignored him and maneuvered to the bar, noting that he was following closely behind you. You moved to take your place behind the bar to start setting up as the fox man sat in a stool in the corner of the bartop.

“We aren’t even open yet,” you snapped at him.

“I’m here under official business from the boss, so that doesn’t matter,” he took out the toothpick from between his lips and lifted it towards you. “Throw this out for me, angel?”

You frowned, “don’t call me that.”

He tapped the crown of his head, “I was referring to your costume, but I do like how much it bothers you.”

You rolled your eyes, snatching the toothpick from him and tossing it into the trash can without another thought. You continued to ignore Yuta, speaking openly with Goeun as you two continued to set up the bar.

“I’m really hoping these stupid costumes help with tips tonight,” you mindlessly admitted to her. 

“Me too! I’ve had my eye on this vintage movie collection for a while so I’m hoping I can put a bid on it tomorrow.”

“Oh that’s so fun! I was just putting it in my savings,” you chuckled. You always knew that Goeun was the cooler of you two, but it was small admissions like this that reminded you of this fact.

“I don’t trust banks,” she muttered. Goeun wasn’t alone in this hesitation. After earth became uninhabitable and humanity spread itself across the solar system, the banks crashed and caused billions of people to be penniless. Nowadays, despite most banks claiming to be extremely secure, citizens of the solar system tend to rely on older methods of finance and saving. Your mother stuck to the method of hiding the family’s savings under the mattress, and after some trial and error in your college days, you found the water tank of the toilet to be the best method for you.

“Me neither. I’m just trying to save to buy a house.”

“Bor-ing,” she giggled, gently shoving your arm. Shortly thereafter, the club was open and in full swing- customers asking for their drinks and the two of you moving as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“Can you get me some soju, angel?” Yuta asked, setting his empty glass of whiskey on the counter.

You shook your head. “You know the policy is fifteen minutes minimum between drinks.”

“I made that policy.”

You paused your mixing, shooting the fox man a glare. “Does every member of the syndicate have a hand in this god damn club?” it was getting aggravating for you. Between Jisung being trained in different areas of the club, your boss, the owner, and now the person following you around all having such ties to the club and the syndicate, you were exhausted trying to keep up.

“I'm the head of security. How do you not know that?”

“I don’t ask questions,” you returned to making drinks for those at the bar, shooting smiles as you did.

“That makes for a great accountant,” he smirked. You ignored him, forcing your smile as you poured over the drinks and slid them down to the patrons. You rubbed your sweaty hands on the hem of your dress, looking back up to meet Yuta’s gaze. He lifted his glass again, wiggling his wrist as he did so. “It’s been fifteen minutes.”

You absentmindedly handed Yuta his bottle of soju, moving down the bartop to continue your job.

“How’s it going?” Goeun maintained her smile as she mixed her drinks.

“As good as it can be!” your smile was still noticeably forced. Shotaro rarely had you working as a bartender and usually preferred to have you as a waitress as evident by your normal shifts. However, he also wanted you to occasionally bartend and not get rusty, so, during the week he found it fun to throw you behind the bar with Goeun.

As the night passed and patrons started to slowly dwindle, you began to clean up the counter, collecting tips as you went. The feeling of the cash between your fingers and weighing on your small apron made an authentic smile appear across your lips. You continued clearing out glasses and waving goodbye to your patrons, all the while well aware of Yuta’s eyes following your every movement.

“So, if you aren’t following me around to just force me into this job,” you were topping off Yuta’s last drink for the night, “what is the reason?”

“I told you. Sungchan’s worried about your safety.”

“Hm, just as I thought. He’s a bad bullshitter,” you moved away from Yuta, keeping the smirk on your face as you imagined his dumbfounded expression.

“I told him he should just move on and find another accountant,” this caught your attention, and you swiveled around on the heel of your boot to study Yuta’s expression. “It’s obvious you don’t want to deal with the price of being a part of the syndicate, and I respect you, angel.”

You were quiet, the soft hum of the closing of the bar being the only sound between the two of you. 

“You’re being serious,” it wasn’t a question, just an observation.

“Sungchan doesn’t take well to not getting what he wants. Guy like him doesn’t become the leader of a crime syndicate by taking no for an answer,” Yuta gently pushed the glass towards you. “I also haven’t seen him ever work so hard to appeal to someone's affections.”

This made you pause. “Affections?”

Yuta furrowed his eyebrows. “Affections. Duh.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “So it isn’t just about that stupid job?”

Yuta laughed, swiping under his eye before he replied, “he won’t admit it. I don’t think it’s about the job- although, it would be a plus to have that position filled.”

For the rest of the week, everytime you would step out of your apartment to work, you came to expect Yuta’s presence. Rather than lurking from a distance, he enjoyed annoying you into small talk. At the same time, whenever you would enter work, you came to expect some other object at your station.

With flowers, you found yourself accepting it mainly because of the fact that you knew they would die soon in the Mars atmosphere anyways. However, when Sungchan began leaving more permanent items as gifts- necklaces, handbags, and today, a laptop, you found yourself dumping them into Yuta’s arms on your way to your assigned place of work.

“For all he’s spending on gifts he could be paying someone else to do the damn job,” you hissed at Yuta.

“I told him the same thing,” he whistled, unphased as he handed the laptop off to another member of club security. 

Yuta had taken to being in a corner of the room whenever you worked- far away enough that he wouldn’t breathe over your neck, but always close enough that you could feel his eyes on you no matter what. 

It was still difficult to meet his gaze for a few reasons. One reason was simply because it bothered you that you had put up with Yuta following closely behind you at all times. The second reason was because you still weren’t used to observing beauty like his so closely. You may not like the fact that he was a syndicate member nor the fact that he wouldn’t leave you be, but you would be a liar if you couldn’t admit that he was one of if not the most attractive person you had ever seen. 

It didn’t help how you’d sometimes find your mind wandering whenever you did look at Yuta. You wondered if his lips really were as soft as they looked. You wondered if his fingers were as nimble as they were whenever he played cards with other syndicate members. You wondered if he was as generous as a lover as he was whenever he’d tip you and the rest of the waitstaff.

Difficult, was becoming an understatement.

All the while, you hadn’t seen Sungchan since your first encounter with him, now nearly a month ago. Despite all the gifts he had thrown your way, the note on each of them was the same: I wait for your answer -J.S.

It bugged you more than Yuta following you around did. You already gave Sungchan your answer- but it wasn’t the answer Sungchan had wanted. 

Before work one day, you were eating a small snack of dandelion cookies, scrolling through listings of houses on your laptop.

Condo on Mars!

HOME ON SATURN MOON.

Apartments for Rent on Jupiter's Moons.

You shuddered reading the ads for Jupiter and Saturn's moons. Jupiter, Saturn, and Neptune were the only planets in the solar system humans had not managed to properly colonize yet, but they have done a pretty solid job of colonizing their surrounding moons.

Begrudgingly, you shoved your costume for the night into your backpack and slipped out of the apartment. Like clockwork, you heard the sound of feet following behind you. You paused. These footsteps were different from the ones you had grown used to. Whipping your body around, your breathing halted.

“You look adorable,” Sungchan smiled, moving towards you with far too much familiarity. Instinctually, you stepped back. Sungchan stopped in his tracks, his eyes facing down at your feet.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice coming out far more meek than you would have liked it to. Sungchan’s eyes moved up to meet yours and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as they did. He was undeniably handsome, but unlike Yuta, there was something lingering in the back of this young man’s eyes- something you noticed the first time but only truly felt now.

Sungchan straightened out his tie before he spoke. “I asked Yuta to make sure you were safe while I was away on business, but I’m back now. Don’t need to bother the head of security if I’m available.”

“I don’t need protection. I’ve worked at your bar for over two years just fine,” you huffed. Not waiting for Sungchan to formulate a response, you started down the steps and out onto the streets. You may not have seen him in a month, but you were able to stew in your anger the whole time.

“I didn’t know that you were there, though,” Sungchan had managed to catch up to you, walking side by side with you down the sidewalk. Upon seeing his accentors, people nearly threw themselves out of the way, and you caught the corner of his lip raise in a smirk. 

“Whatever that means. Can you just… leave me alone? I already told you- I don’t want the job as the accountant,” you plead. A small, foolish part hoped that if you were direct enough, that Sungchan would understand and leave you alone. 

“I would have left you alone a long time ago if I could,” he replied blankly, his eyes watching your expression closely. Foolish.

“Why do you keep talking to me like that?” you stopped outside of the alleyway, well aware of the gazes streaming through as they watched the head of the largest syndicate speaking openly to one of his waitresses while not on the clock. “Why are you so… ominous? And why are you talking like you have no pride? Or agency? My god… I thought you were the boss.”

“I am the head of the largest syndicate in the solar system, I have more agency than you could even dream of,” this seemed to have struck a nerve in the deer as he glared down at you.

“Then why can’t you leave me alone?” 

Sungchan clenched his jaw before he ran his hand past his face and through the front of his hairline. “Just… consider my offer. I’ll see you tonight,” he brushed past you then, moving to enter the front of the Garden.

***

Shotaro had handed you an outfit to wear for the night, much to your dismay. He seemed to feel bad about it as he saw you open the box and pull out the ridiculous costume- well, ridiculous to you at least.

“This is a brand new skirt from Louis Vitriol. It was just in Paris-York Fashion week,” Irene admired the short plaid skirt, taking it from the box Shotaro handed to you.

“This is authentic Venus craftsmanship… These garters are hundreds of dollars each,” Seulgi added, her fingers tracing over the leather work. You shook your head, the heat rising to your face as you stared down at the note buried inside the box indicating who it was from.

“I’m not wearing this,” you felt your chest swell in anger. Shotaro rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from you as if he were ashamed.

“If you don’t wear it, I was told to send you away for the night.”

“Fine!”

“And then to fire you for walking off the job,” he muttered, his eyes darting away.

“You can’t do that,” Goeun spoke for you, her anger stifled by the silly schoolgirl outfit she had on. The theme was back to school, and while the outfit you had originally planned was skimpy, it paled in comparison to what Sungchan wanted you to wear.

“You’ll be working in the downstairs area tonight, so no one else will see you,” Shotaro added as if to comfort you. 

“Who would see me, then?” you asked, knowing the answer. Shotaro was quiet as he took a step back, announcing everyone else's place for the night and getting them out of the dressing room.

“I’ll be right out here. Once you’re ready I’ll take you downstairs,” Shotaro leaned in closely then, “if he tries something you don’t like, book it out of there. I’ll make sure you keep your job.” There was a weight placed into your front pocket, and then, you were alone. The outfit Sungchan had forced you into left little to the imagination, but tucked into your outer thigh and strapped in by the garter belt was the knife Shotaro had snuck to you. You had never gone to the downstairs area of the club. You knew this was where Shotaro’s office was, but never cared to learn more. 

Shotaro had led you down the marble steps and simply said, “last door at the end of the hall.”

Walking alone, the only sound was your platformed boots squeaking along the marble floor. You felt miserable. It’s not that you weren’t confident in yourself, you just hated the feeling of being so exposed- especially against your will. Your ass hung out from the bottom of the miniskirt, your button up shirt showed a little more of your torso and tits than you would have liked, and the garter belt emphasized far more than you deemed necessary. 

You were marching into Sungchan’s office fully ready to quit. You didn’t need this shit! You had saved enough money, and hell, you had a masters degree! He may be head of the syndicate and have his finger in every pie in the city, but he couldn’t control you.

Steeling yourself, you didn’t bother knocking before turning the handle to enter the space.

You weren’t sure what you expected. Maybe a large torture room where he showed you what happens to people who refuse his bidding. You even half expected a ridiculously lavish lounge filled to the brim with gold and other silly, opulent objects.

What you didn’t expect was what you got- a simple office with an oak desk, and several overstuffed bookshelves along the walls. In front of the desk sat Sungchan in a stool not meant for someone of his height as he hunched in front of a blank canvas. He was facing another small stool that stood empty. Sungchan turned his head your way and unabashedly stared at your chest.

“My eyes are up here, dipshit.”

“I guess I was never subtle,” Sungchan turned his gaze back up to your eyes. “Take a seat.”

“Why?”

Sungchan furrowed his brows, seeming to suck out the small bit of courage you were feeling as he did so. He raised a free hand and dug into his suit jacket before yanking out a paper.

“I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking to buy a home away from Nuevo Seoul.”

You didn’t even bother asking how he knew this, for it was obvious to you that Yuta had heard your conversations with Goeun.

“What if I told you that I have in my hand a deed to land that is yours to have?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. Plus, I doubt-.”

“It’s on the moon, the part that faces earth.”

You were silent. The community on the moon consisted of two things- the extremely wealthy families who could afford the plots of land there, and the two farmlands that managed to grow earthlike crops for a pretty penny. It was as close to earth as you could possibly get, but even on your nice salary it would be impossible to afford, hell, even with as much as the syndicate made it still didn’t seem possible.

How could Sungchan have possibly known that this was what you wanted?

Your bottom lip trembling, you forced a false confidence. “How do I even know that deed is real?”

He tucked the paper away into his suit jacket, turning back to face the canvas. “Take a seat and we can talk about it.”

You stood still at the door, glaring at Sungchan’s back. You couldn’t deny that you were curious about the deed, but you also reminded yourself of the immense distress even being in the same room as him caused you. The time ticked. Slowly, you walked yourself past Sungchan and to the empty stool across from him and the canvas. You didn’t miss the small smile that appeared on his lips that vanished just as quickly.

“You look lovely.”

“I hate this outfit. Now, tell me about the deed.”

“Can you cross your legs and place both your hands over your thigh?” he instructed, pointing at you with the pencil in his hand. Pressing your lips together, you crossed your ankles and set your two balled up fist on your overexposed thigh. “It’s a house my family has owned on the moon since humanity first colonized the solar system.”

“And why would you give that to me?”

“Because I know it’s the one thing that would convince you to stay near me,” Sungchan replied bluntly as he started to lightly sketch. 

“Why can’t you take no for an answer?”

He paused on his sketch, meeting your gaze now. You hated how attractive he was- his brown eyes seeming to pin you down where you sat. He was younger than Yuta at least at first blush, but there was something in the younger man’s eyes that showed someone wise beyond his years.

“Why the moon?”

You purse your lips at his question. You had never verbalized the truth to anyone- even in your head it felt… silly.

“It’s because the earth calls to you, isn’t it,” Sungchan looked back down at this canvas, and your eyes widened. “It calls to you, and even though you know the earth is no longer safe, you wish to be in its orbit and as close to it as possible. Is this correct?”

“H-how…?”

“I know lots of things,” he hummed, “and I could say the same. I feel called to you, and I want to be in your orbit.”

There were a lot of things wrong with his response. For one thing- the earth couldn’t speak for itself while you could. Perhaps it was because he was the first person to ever put together your fascination with the deserted planet and seem to respect it, but you stayed on the stool, watching him slowly sketch.

“Why did you put me in this stupid outfit?”

“I just wanted everyone to see how adorable you are,” he countered, a sly smile turning his face up. You looked away in embarrassment, staring at one of the many bookshelves he had in his office. He scared you, but you couldn’t deny the way you felt flattered by his attraction towards you. “Eyes on me please… I’m trying to get this lighting right.”

You turned your face back, hoping the blush faded away.

“You don’t seem like someone who does art.”

“That’s a little judgemental of you, no?”

You shrugged. “When I think of the head of the syndicate, I don’t think of someone who is as young as you who also is an artist.”

Sungchan chuckled then, still sketching. “I’m a lot older than I look.”

“Your head of security seems older than you.”

“I knew it was unwise to have you spending more time with him,” Sungchan clicked his tongue, glaring down at the canvas before his eyes flitted back to you. You looked at his deer horns, and how in the dim lighting of his office, they seemed golden, making his wings appear heavenly.

“He’s nice,” you defended.

“I’m sure that’s all you think about with him,” Sungchan sounded bored, the bite in his statement not being there in the way you would have expected. Before you could remind him of the fact that he’s the one that forced Yuta to watch you, there was a loud pounding at the office door, making you jump slightly in your seat. Within the blink of an eye, there was a weight on your lap. It was Sungchan’s blazer.

“Put this on, if you want,” while there was leniency in his words, one look in his eyes showed that it wasn’t merely a suggestion. Annoyed but all the while pleased to have some coverage, you slipped on the blazer. 

“Sir we need final input on the se-,” the man walking in paused before squinting at you, “the stuff that is legal. Hey, weren’t you that waitress who trained little Jisung?”

“One of them, yeah,” you recognized the man from the night you met Yuta. He sat a few booths down and was notable to you only for the fact that he was the only one at the booth without any accentors. Tonight, he had on a full suit and held in his hands a manilla folder. 

“I thought you only did still life paintings,” Johnny looked teasingly at Sungchan who ignored the man's comment and took the folder in his hand.

“Hm,” was all Sungchan said as he glanced over the contents. He sat back down at the canvas, leafing through a few more pages. “How distraught is she?”

“Extremely,” Johnny replied, his lips pressed tightly together. “I don’t blame her.”

“Of course not. Well…” Sungchan looked up at you, cocking his eyebrow, “can you pick a number between one and ten for me?”

Your face twisted in confusion, Sungchan’s unmoving expression giving nothing away. You caught Johnny’s chuckle and felt a small twinge of irritation.

“Three.”

“You’re much too nice… Fine. Cut three fingers and three toes- but make one of them his thumb, that’s all,” Sungchan handed the folder back to Johnny who quickly shuffled out from the office.

You jumped off the stool, eyes wide in horror and disgust. “What the fuck?”

“Hm?” Sungchan seemed bored again, looking back at where you stood. “Ah can you sit back down? I was almost done sketching.”

“Don’t use me in your sick fucking games!” You shouted, throwing off his blazer and tossing it to the ground.

“He assaulted her.”

You froze where you stood, ice flooding your veins and keeping you from moving. “What?”

“One of the syndicate-run brothels had an incident where a client ignored the boundaries of our workers. I would say he deserved to be punished,” Sungchan hummed. “I normally would want them to be castrated but we’ll just have the cops do that themselves.”

You were back on the stool for what felt like several hours then, your mind wallowing in a shame you couldn’t even begin to articulate. You hated Sungchan for pushing your own boundaries and his numerous attempts to get you to do a job you did not feel comfortable doing, yet, you were still in awe at the realization that they actually took care of all their workers. 

Sex work on Mars was illegal, but in Nuevo Seoul (especially if you were connected to the Dragon Crime Syndicate), the cops were willing to turn a blind eye to the brothels. At your job, Shotaro and the security team were always helpful. You hated working for the syndicate not because of how they treated you, but because you feared the repercussions of getting caught. 

Then, a petty, stupid, thought intruded into your brain; if Sungchan was willing to torture a man for someone he didn’t even know, what lengths would he go to for you?

You were quiet until Sungchan checked the time on his watch. “Seems like it’s closing time,” he sat up from the stool and dug into the pocket of his pants, taking out his wallet.

You stood up from your stool and brushed past him on your way towards the door. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ll be getting paid for your time in one way or another,” he replied, putting his wallet back in his pocket nonetheless. It was one thing for you to take money from patrons, but it felt like a whole other thing to take money from the owner of the bar, especially when you felt so sick in your gut. “I’ll be walking you home now.”

“I’d rather be alone,” you knew it was pointless, especially as you felt Sungchan set his blazer jacket back atop your shoulders.

“Neuvo Seoul may be safer than other big cities, but no way in hell you’re walking out of here dressed like that on your own.”

You clenched your jaw. “You made me wear this shit.”

He simpered, “I know.”

You followed behind Sungchan down the marble hall. When you initially made your way down, you had ignored your surroundings in a blind rage and fear. Now, you observed the different statues teeming about, the way each square inch of the walls held a priceless painting. You stopped in front of one, leaning in closely to confirm your suspicions.

“These are original paintings,” Sungchan answered for you. You didn’t turn around, knowing that he stood merely an inch away from your back. “It’s the abduction of Persephone.”

The painting was horrifying to you. The dark colors swallowed the two primary figures. There were hands clawing through the ground to try and save a struggling Persephone as she fought against her abductor. It was beautiful, this was undeniable, but you couldn’t deny the agony you felt when you saw it.

“I thought most Rembrandt paintings were destroyed when the earth was.”

“This one was a part of a big heist in the late 1900s, and whoever stole it sent it to the moon with some rich patrons decades later,” Sungchan explained. “Did you take an art history class?”

You shook your head, “my Mom works for the Paris-York Museum of Art.” 

“Ah, sounds like an interesting lady,” Sungchan’s voice sounded more distant. You turned your head back, seeing that he now stood several steps away, his eyes locked onto your own. 

The club was clearing out slowly, and as you made it back to the ground level, you saw Irene and Seulgi both gaze at you with clear looks of concern as they watched you re-enter with the head of the syndicate. 

“Good night!” Shotaro called over, his smile so bright despite the dark cloud that seemed to follow Sungchan. Maneuvering past other high up syndicate members all making sure to say goodbye to him, you and Sungchan were greeted by the chill of Mars’ night air.  While the man-made atmosphere made it possible for humans to generally survive on the planet, there wasn’t much it could do about the planet’s inclination to become frigid at night.

Begrudgingly, you slipped your arms through Sungchan’s blazer, sighing as the warmth enveloped your chest. You looked at the man who had his sleeves rolled up, arms tucked behind him as he quietly walked next to you.

“I like the cold,” he seemed to read your mind, his eyes glancing over at you. You averted your gaze, and focused on the nightlife that seemed to be slowly dwindling. You had gotten used to the odd schedule of finishing work at three in the morning, but you would never get used to Mars’ red moons in the sky and the citizens of Nuevo Seoul who also seemed to be finishing their own late night shifts. You looked back over at Sungchan, his wings fully exposed now that you wore his blazer.

“Do you cut out holes in all your shirts for those things?” you caught yourself absentmindedly asking. He stopped walking, his eyes studying you then. You realized what, to you, was an error- you felt comfortable enough around him to ask such a rude question. 

Then, he chuckled, “sometimes I do, but this shirt was tailored for me.”

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, nodding as you turned your gaze back down to your feet.

“You really shouldn’t be so curious,” Sungchan muttered. 

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t even know the head of security until a month ago, let alone… who you are,” you snapped.

“Ah, so you don’t know about the insane killing spree I had a year ago, that’s a shame,” Sungchan’s tone was serious. You met his gaze, and watched the corner of his mouth twitch, holding back a chuckle.

“That sounds like something you’d do,” you countered, pulling out your keys.

“Hm, not without reason,” Sungchan admitted as you entered your building's courtyard. Glancing up, you froze. Your apartment door was open and lights were turned on, and from what you could see on the third floor, men were teeming around the area.

“What the fuck?” Sungchan beat you to it, and looked over to you. “Stay here.”

“Fuck off!” you shouted, taking a step to move away from the syndicate boss before he moved directly in front of you. “This is my home,” your body trembled now as you looked up at Sungchan’s piercing eyes.

Sungchan grit his teeth, glancing up at the apartment before looking at your own shaking figure. “If I say to run, you run, okay?”

Even if you didn’t mean it, you needed the tall wall of a man to move out of your way somehow, so you nodded in agreement. 

Your apartment was in a disarray. Yuta stood at the front door, explaining himself to a visibly angry Sungchan.

“... by the time I got here the door was already broken open. They didn’t take everything, but-.”

“I don’t understand why the fuck you wouldn’t think to call me immediately,” Sungchan snarled.

You were too stunned to even interject. Yuta saw your dazed expression, and looked down in shame. “Sungchan asked me to meet you both here to make sure your place was safe… I should have gotten here sooner.”

“God dammit,” Sungchan pushed past the fox man, storming into your apartment as if it was his own. You surveyed the damage from the door, noting the two other men that greeted the angered boss as they cleaned up the broken glass scattered all over your floor. The flowers were all gone too, this much you could easily tell. 

Glancing to the side, your eyes widened in horror.

You shoved Yuta out of the way, rushing to your bathroom and seeing the worst sight imaginable.

“No no no no no no no no no no,” you repeated, your throat catching as sobs began to rack your chest. The lid of the toilet was tossed aside, and inside the water tank which formerly held your entire life savings, now just held water and two empty ziploc bags.

Gone.

It was all gone.

Tears were streaming down your face and you ran your hands against your cheeks in an attempt to stifle the sadness and anger welling up inside. All of your money was gone. You kept swiping your hands at your cheeks, snot streaking along the blazer as you stared down at the empty water tank. A hand rested on your shoulder, and you shot a quick look at the mirror.

“All of my money,” you told Yuta, your voice coming out in a croak.

“We’ll find them and get all of your money back, angel,” he tried to comfort you. “It’ll be okay.” You were so petrified and angry that you glossed over the stupid nickname he seemed to permanently assign to you.

You turned back around, meeting Yuta’s gaze. “Where’s Sungchan?”

He pressed his lips into a line, his fox ears twitching as if fighting back an urge you had no desire to decipher. “He’s on the line with some syndicate members, trying to get street camera footage.”

“Tell him… tell him I’ll take the stupid job."

CHAPTER THREE: SEE YOU COWGIRL, SOMEDAY, SOMEWHERE!

Taglist! @nini0620 @maleegayuh @projectxdemons @deakyspuff

[ventingbeec]

State of minds and the way your body feels

So i recently realised how feelings influence so much the way you see the world around you.

Idk how to elaborate it but i want to tell an experience i had.

So when i was younger for some reason i was afraid or idk to shop. Exactly, i was anxious about shopping in supermarkets. I don’t really know why?

Maybe because i thought people are staring at me and judging me, or maybe because i was low on money?!

So i found a picture where my friend showed me she bought a cup of noodles, and i remember i really wanted to try but for some reason i never searched for it, and even the few times i went with my mom at shopping and found something i wanted i would just leave it.

So now thinking about it it sounds so pathetic but back then it was such a blockage for me to do the most basic things.

Right now i can spend hours in supermarkets, its the lamest thing ever, so why did i put that experience on a pedestal??

Another thing i used to put on pedestal when i was younger was a white pencil. I really really wanted a white pencil and i thought it was such an amazing thing, and when i bought my first one i was so happy, but then i coul afford to buy more so got a lot feon different brands to test them out and even now i have them, maybe for like 8 years?? They are around the house but i don’t care about them, they are lame, but i used to think omg such an amazing thing.

So my conclusion is that we tend to put such insignificant things on pedestal and think we can’t approach them when in real life they are lame af. But still i don’t have any wise advice to give tbh. I still want insignificant things, and i still think im not worthy having them when in reality they are probably very approachable, how to stop this?

So for example, i really want to be tall, like 5’7, can i really do this? probably? do i know how to? maybe idk? is there anything that’s stopping me? most certainly.

So because this is my vent blog anyways, i will talk nonsense.

1. I want to be tall because i want to or because others judge me cus im short?

I will enumerate some moments people judged my height.

1. My mom

so my mom always tells me i would be more beautiful if i was taller

when i was younger she would tell me to work out to grow taller

she pushed me to do a lot of things to grow taller

she always judge other short women calling them names so maybe i feel she thinks the same about me

do i want to be tall just to make my mom happy? i want this for her? i want to look a certain way so that she would stop judging me just for existing?? why does she wants this? shy can’t she love me just for who i am, if i was even more shorter shat would she think about me??

omg i feel like im about to throw tf up right now

i never realised i feel like this

how can i stop this?

am i worth it? probably, but how do i stop hating myself and caring what others think about me

i feel maybe they would never like me even if i was 7’1 so then what’s wrong with me? do i want to grow just to ignore them after and prove something? but i don’t heve to prove anything to anyone, am i right?

the only person i should care about it’s me

so is height really that important?

but i don’t know how to care about myself anymore?? what do i do?? skincare??

i’m so confused

i really want to fit in the society beauty standard so bad, i want people to accept me amd love and admire me

but why??? why do i care so much??

if i would have loved myself then would i care anymore about what others think?? idk how to live myself

i don’t think i have to do anything to love myself, i should do it just because i exist, but why do i feel so weird then

why do i want to prove something when i shouldn’t

2. my dad

i feel like i care about his male gaze

not in a weird way, but in a “i think my child it’s ugly way”

idk if you know that movie when a girl turns into a pig, like, her nose is pig like

and at some point her dad told her mom that

“we have to admit, we have an ugly daughter “

that line, that scene, why is that in my mind? why did it stuck from the moment hear it??!

it passed more than a decade but that line is my roman empire

why do i care about this so much

now that i write this, i never realised how much i cared about my parents opinion about my outside appearance but i do

i do a lot until it eats me alive

one time i was sitting at the dinner table and so my dad stared at me and then smirked

so my mom asked him why

and he giggled and said “look how much X looks like her grandfather”

my grandfather who is first of all a man, second of all a big, crooked, septum deviated, nosed man

i remember that moment so vividly, i wanted to disappear in that moment so nobody could ever see my face ever again

never

i don’t hate the way my grandfather looks, but i am aware of how he’s seen by the society

and i am aware that remark wasn’t something nice but something to point out ugly features

one time when was really into selfcare

and i really wanted to drink a gallon of water a day for health and also clear skin

my father overheard my discussion and he intervened saying that “where could that much water go through your body? for you maybe one cup of water a day”

and for me, that didn’t seem funny

that shattered me, i hate it, i hate so much being perceived

i hate so much being made fun of

i don’t want to look the way i look anymore

i hate me, i hate the way i look

why am i like this, why am i so weak? so skinny?? and some of you will sat it’s something good but it’s not, as a grown up woman i look like a little boy, i feel less of a woman

i feel im not worthy, i feel like i deserve absolutely nothing and i don’t understand why was i born and why am i still alive to suffer

i do i care a lot about shat people say about me

because in our society it matters a lot how people perceive you

i wish i didnt care but i do

i wish i was different but im not

i wish i could look like the beauty standards

i wish i could make my parents happy

i wish i could prove something

i wish i was loved and appreciated

i wish i wouldn’t have to hate myself so much

i wish i could just live in silence and be happy and eat and wash my body and sleep and play and do things i like and love myself

i wish i could just love the way i looked

everything about me

even my big crooked nose

i wish i could truly love it but it bought me so much pain

so much pain

for just existing and not bothering anyone it attracted so much pain

why do i have to look a certain way to not be bullied???!!!

why do we all have to look the same

after some pattern

i think i should stop caring about others

even my mom or dad but it’s kind of hard

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Hi!!. I just read your last, like, three fics and can I just say that Oliver is such a sweetheart🥺!!!!!!

Anyway, this isn't a fic request really. I was just wondering if you could maybe write backstories for your characters? I'm lowkey curious to know what some of your OCs lives were like tbh👀.

I’m glad you like Oliver!! It seems like he and Isaac are my 2 most liked OCs. Anyway, ask and you shall receive!

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

Isaac: He has a younger sister and a much older brother, both of whom he loves. They all lived with their grandma because their parents went missing while on a business trip, and no one knows where they went. Isaac’s sister was 2, he was 12, and his brother was already 16. Their grandma was possibly the coolest woman alive, and she loved and spoiled them. Isaac had struggled with the loss of his parents, but his brother suffered worse than him, and Isaac tried his best to comfort him. That’s how Isaac realized he enjoyed helping people feel better, and that’s why he wants to be a therapist.

Oliver: His childhood wasn’t that bad. His parents loved him and supported him when he came out, and he did struggle with people being homophobic towards him from time to time but his friends (*ahem* Isaac *cough cough*) were always there to stick up for him. But Oliver was also an overachiever, and would often spend hours obsessing over and worrying about school. But other than that, his life growing up was pretty great.

Jordan: Her and her brother came from a rich family that owned and partnered with a handful of successful tech companies in both America and Japan. Because their parents were both from Japan, they visited family there often but mainly lived in the states. Jordan loved her fancy lifestyle, and because she wore fancy clothes and owned expensive things, people judged her and called her a snob, but when she met Birdie and Spirit she finally had people who saw the real her. (Jordan and Keiko don’t really have bad backstories.)

Keiko: (I repeat: basically no trauma.) Even though he’s Jordan’s brother, he didn’t have the same rich tastes that she had. He wanted a simpler life, which is why instead of accepting an allowance or asking for money, he worked jobs and applied for a lot of scholarships in order to get to college and get his own apartment. His parents offered to get nice apartments for him and Jordan, but when though Jordan accepted hers, Keiko instead stuck to buying his own.

Spirit: She wasn’t always the “heavy-metal-badass” she is now. When she was a little girl, she was basically a girly tomboy whose dad would take her fishing, play her music on the guitar, and take care of her since her mom was always working. But he was also a marine and had to go to war for a few months. He died in war on Spirit’s sixth birthday, and Spirit’s mom didn’t even stop working or come home to take care of her. There was no extended family to take care of Spirit, but her mom was home for a couple of days every week (or even every other week) and was well off financially, so CPS never really got involved. Spirit would sometimes go hungry and got her own job at a young age to buy stuff like food and clothes for herself since her mom never bothered to. Spirit’s childhood made her the independent, short-tempered badass that she is.

Birdie: Her backstory is another one of the less bad ones. Her parents are married and sweet, and she is an only child (but Spirit is like a sister to her). But she was bullied a lot growing up and often called crazy. She was obsessed with nature and was basically a hippie since she could walk. And her ADHD was so bad that she had meltdowns and bad ticks often, and as a result had scabs on her hands from picking at her skin. She takes medication, and Spirit sometimes keeps some of Birdie’s pills in her own bag because she knows Birdie forgets to take it from time to time.

Amberlynn: Right after Amber’s birth, her mom became a drunk and drug addict. And she was once so intoxicated once that she tried to kill little baby Amberlynn, and Amberlynn has a faded scar on her stomach from that attempt. After that, Amberlynn’s bio-dad (Finnegan) got full custody of her and left. When Anberlynn was about 2 years old, Finnegan met Jackson and the two of them got married when Amberlynn was 4. Amberlynn never knew her mom until the woman tried to show back up when Amberlynn was 13, and when Amberlynn yelled at her to leave, the woman slapped her and started to beat her while screaming. Jackson was there though and managed to get the woman locked out of the house. She was arrested after that, and the experience traumatized Amberlynn a bit. Her dads were there to help her through it though.

Eliana: She lived in Virginia and came from a very religious and political family. On the outside, she was a nice and beautiful girl who everyone assumed had a great life. But her family was hard on her—especially her three sisters who were jealous of her looks and called her a slut—and her life went to hell after one of her sisters found out she had a crush on a girl and was lesbian. People at her Christian school began to call her disgusting, and her family abused her verbally and physically. She had a brother who tried to intervene when he could, but he was the oldest and the first to move out to get away from his crazy family. But after two years when he had a job and even his own apartment, he convinced his parents to let Eliana move in with him. They disowned her and did just that. Afterwards, Eliana’s life improved and art became her therapy. After a while though of living with her brother and finishing up her high school years, her parents apologized and tried to get back in contact, saying they don’t accept her sexuality but she is family and they love her no matter what. She and her brother didn’t fully believe it, but she still visited her family on holidays and vacations while giving them the cold shoulder, knowing she could never forgive them completely. (Boy, that’s a long one😭).

Aiden: His dad was a cop and nis mom was a nurse. His life was nice until his dad was shot by a criminal and paralyzed from the waist and down. He’d always wanted to be a cop like his dad, and was even more determined after his dad’s accident. He was a well-liked, straight-A student with plenty of friends, and he’s also an insanely caring soul. Basically, his parents raised him right👍!!

Atticus: His backstory is really the best and calmest of them all. He was raised in the countryside. He wasn’t the stereotypical cowboy with a funny hat and a southern accent, but he knew how to milk a cow. He was a bright kid in school, and was basically just a giant hunk of joy. The people around him were accepting to the fact he was bi and he never struggled to fit in. He loved helping people and making them smile. He did lots of school programs like gardening club, student government, fundraisers, pen-pal club, and more. (The pen-pal thing is important to remember btw.)

Felix: He was raised in Britain his whole life, but his dad was American and he was born in America so he had dual citizenship. His mom was basically his best friend, and his dad thought this was weird since he thought that his son would be into things like sports instead of shopping. He wasn’t happy when his son came out as gay, but he didn’t put his son down either. Rather, he just never commented on it. Felix wanted to become a fashion designer like his mom, and when he told his dad the man basically sighed and said, “Okay, yeah. Sure. I’ll buy you a sewing machine if it’ll make you happy. I love ya, kid, but please just keep your grades up and for the love of God, please don’t start watching James Charles.” (BTW, Felix doesn’t watch James Charles. It’s just not his thing). When Felix was in high school, he joined a pen-pal program and was paired with a guy name Atticus from the US. They were pen-pals for the rest of high school and had even planned to go to the same college in the US so that their close friendship could continue in real life. They started dating after their first month of college.