#i’ll . get around to fixing up this blog eventually
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oblivionwlng · 1 year ago
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i REALLY need to update this blog
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luci4theminorannoyance · 7 months ago
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I luv ur blog sm <3
How would the 141 react to reader going off on their own while at the store to get something but then coming back with baby clothes talking about how cute and little they are😭 and then they ask if they can have babies asap lol
a/n: this is actually so cute honestly
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Price:
-laughs it off at first but now you’ve put the idea in his mind and he starts thinking about it like clockwork
-I mean… he does adore you, you both have stable income, you both want a kid eventually? Why not?
-he has always wanted to adopt or have a kid with you, and now he’s started doing little things around the house just in case you were really serious, like little trinkets or an cute baby toy around the house
Gaz:
-gaz had really never thought of having kids, sure he knew it would happen eventually but he never had a set want or plan for them
-but the way your eyes lit up and the way you asked was so sweet it could melt him, and he wasn’t opposed to begin with so it wasn’t a hard thing to convince him about
ghost:
-actually really happy at the idea, he’s wonderful with kids oddly enough, the only issue is his job
-it always makes him worry about the idea; what if he doesn’t make it back okay? What if he’s gone for too many important things? What if he misses so much time that he doesn’t get to know them well?
-those are all worries you can help him with though, luckily
soap:
-the second you ask a crib is already in the making
-he really is Mr. “I’ll just fix it and make it all” whenever it comes to your shared house, and making a kids room sounds like a blast
-hell, to him? Having a kid sounds like a blast!
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lovely-keii · 10 months ago
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being their sibling
characters: tsukishima kei, oikawa tooru, suna rintarou
a/n: i write a fic every time i rewatch hq LOL sorry ik i said im abandoning this blog buuuut…happy bday to this blog!! (repost from 1/5 because tags broke :(( )
part 1
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TSUKISHIMA KEI
looks out for you, but he can’t help that hes so emotionally constipated :’( he tries to give you advice because he genuinely is concerned for you but just is unable to word anything properly. see: “you need to stop talking to that person, you’re being a pushover,” but he just wants you to realize you’re letting people walk all over you.
god forbid he has to comfort you because hes the wrong brother for that - you’re definitely in better hands with akiteru. he might walk in on you crying and contemplate if he’ll even say anything or just ignore it flat out, or he’ll say something like “don’t cry, you look stupid.” if you cry more, he’ll end up swallowing his pride and sitting next to you. he’ll groan and reluctantly, “fine, spill it.”
other than that, he’s going to be a sneaky little prick. definitely the type to take revenge on you if you annoy him. you eat the last piece of chocolate he was saving and suddenly you find your charger hidden deep under your bed. also loves to take things without your permission. “why? i’m just using it, it’s not like you need it now.”
if someone picks a fight with you, he’ll be quick to extract you from the situation before saying something ruder and harsher than usual to the person. and if you tell him you like someone from his team, he’s going to look at you like you’re crazy. “are you insane?!” he’s honestly more bewildered than upset. doesn’t let you anywhere near the gym. he can make an exception for yamaguchi though. “at least it’s not hinata…or worse, kageyama.”
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OIKAWA TOORU
your life is never boring with this guy as your brother. you’re literally being dragged everywhere, practices, shopping, team events… you’re like “i’m not even part of the team.” he goes “we can fix that!” and the next day you find out that you’re the manager for the boys’ volleyball team. huh, wonder how that happened.
oh my god, he MILKS you being his manager. “hold my drink, my fans are calling.” “y/n get my towel please.” you’re absolutely seething at the power trip that this guy is on. eventually, you start doing all that for his other team members and not for him, and he gets so whiney. “y/n you’ll get big ugly iwaizumi a towel but not your own sweet brother?!” that earns him a spike to the head from iwaizumi.
he tells you all the gossip about the school, because believe me, he knows A LOT of things. he’ll do his skin care while he forces you to listen to his gossip, cue him getting mad if you try to leave. everyone realizes why you two are siblings when you two walk down the halls and pull the exact same faces at the people he’s told you about in his gossip.
he makes you his little scapegoat for his fangirls. “oh, you want my number? you’ll have to ask y/n for that, they keep my phone with them during practice!” (you dont) “now, why don’t you girls hand all these gifts to my lovely sibling for me?” (you almost immediately chuck them at his face when you see him) but you know the best way to get back at him? when he sees you even slightly conversing with ushijima or kageyama, all hell breaks loose.
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SUNA RINTAROU
the devil if the devil was your brother. he takes the ugliest pictures of you, when you’re asleep, when you’re yelling, when you’re crying over a movie. he also loves to send you pictures of animals and send a “look at you in this picture, so cute”. he also takes your things without asking and never returns it, you’ll just find it in his bag one day.
he also is one to order you around, and it drives you mad. “pass me the remote, y/n.” “but it’s nearer to you.” “i’ll tell mom that you-” // “y/n get me a drink from the vending machine.” “why would i do that” “remember when you snuck out and i-” // “get my bag too when you get yours.” “no.” “what i post that one picture of you when you’re about to sneeze-”
but he’s always looking out for you. when creeps try to approach you, he’s quick to react by shooting them a nasty glare. he’s a silent kind of care. standing behind you on elevators, walking on the outer side of the sidewalk, staying up late til you come home and just telling you he just couldnt sleep. little do you know, it’s something he’s always done even as a kid. putting more food on your lunch box, holding the corner of tables when you pick something up so you don’t hit your head, returning your things that are sprawled around the house to your room so you don’t lose them.
and if he ever finds you crying over some guy, he sighs and sits down next to you. “why’re you crying over an idiot?” he then makes snappy insults at the expense of the guy, making you laugh. “see? you look better like that. now stop crying and let me get some sleep.” he closes the light and shuts the door on his way out.
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inkbybambi · 15 days ago
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Oh my gosh I love the Graves rescuing reader fic, it was so good. I imagine if she does join them eventually the whole shadow company just loves her, they're always around in some way. If it progresses to something more like poly!shadows I feel like if word got back to 141 they'd be so pissed but also would feel guilty as shit too. Sorry if this is incoherent, Im half asleep but I already love your blog and your writing, went through a bunch of your posts and it's a FEAST thank you
(hi darling i’m so sorry this is so late ): thank you for your patience and your wonderful idea !!!! i adore poly!shadow company !!! you’re the sweetest ever and i’m so so flattered that you like my writhing so much. thank you so much <33)
joining the shadows wasn’t a question of if, but when. and when, according to graves, was when you were fully healed. you were impatient to get back out there. prove yourself to — you want to say yourself, but you know it’s not true. you want to prove to them that you were worthy of saving.
it takes longer than you want to be field-ready. your impatience sometimes gets the better of you, storming into graves’ office during meetings you definitely weren’t invited to, demanding to be allowed to do something, anything. fuck physical therapy, you were fine. fuck the therapists, you didn’t need to talk to them any longer and if another one asked “and how does that make you feel?” you’re going to lose your god damn mind. he would give you a look, cup you by the nape of your neck and bring himself close, the heat of him comforting in a way you didn’t realize you were missing until he was almost pressed up against you.
“the moment you’re ready, i’ll send you out. swear it.”
the more you were around the shadows, the more you got used to them. you didn’t want to get used to them. you didn’t need yet another reason for feeling weak, nothing like a liability and something to throw away when they were done with you.
but they never did.
a shadow — or two — always joined you to your physical therapy appointments. it made them better. less like you were trying to fix a broken toy and more like you were trying to become part of something bigger than yourself. there was a shadow that has wanted to become a therapist but couldn’t see himself sticking to an office. so he offered to help you, off the books, filled with coffee and tea and ways to keep you talking but not cornered, caged, a specimen on display to be torn to shreds.
you were welcomed to the team with open arms. fit right into them, into a place you didn’t even know you were missing from. they kept you safe, and you kept them in kind.
it wasn’t a surprise when you kissed graves after a successful mission and a little too much wine. it wasn’t unwelcome when he took you home, stripped you of your clothes and made you feel like a dream. it was a surprise when two other shadows joined you, but you weren’t about to say no and they weren’t about to take it easy on you.
you were prized among them, their little lamb with bloodied teeth and claws to kill. you were one of them.
(how the 141 found out, you’ll never know. you were partnered with them, unfortunately, for something or another. just another mission to get your boys home safe. you didn’t care much to interact with them or deign their apology — if it could be called that — with any real acknowledgment. just a leveled look so they knew you heard and then your attention was stolen by a shadow that tended to be in your bed more than the others. no one ever complained, you all shared. you could feel their looks on the plane. the lingering heat from the gaze as you talked with graves, strapped a shadow in and checked to make sure another had extra magazines. you’ll never know what they’re thinking. you don’t think you particularly care.)
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minniesmutt · 5 months ago
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: I.N X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: IDOL!READER, FEM!READER, EXHIBITONISM, QUICKIE, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE, CLOTHED SEX, DIRTY TALK, PET NAMES ☾ ━━━ WC: 1K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     Publicly dating as an idol wasn’t safe. Companies didn’t like endorsing their idols dating or even if they could, they worried about what their fan base would say. So everything was hidden.
     Rarely get to see your partner with busy schedules and maybe get an hour or so to talk to them. Bless award shows though. Getting the whole industry together in one place, watching all their performances, and supporting them when they won their awards. 
     The fun part was trying to sneak glances at your partner. And sneaking away from the eyes of fans. 
     Y/n and Jeongin sat at their separate tables with their groups. Chatting away with their groups but Y/n could feel the occasional glare of his eyes on her. Eventually, she had to go back with her group to change to performance clothes. Jeongin's group followed not long after, just before hers went on to get ready for their performance. Just passing by them to the dressing rooms as they were going to wait for cue. The groups greeted each other as they passed by, Jeongin and Y/n’s eyes lingering on each other a bit longer than the others.
     Jeongin managed to find a piece of paper after the makeup artist finished fixing his makeup and he got changed. He wrote a little note for his girlfriend to meet him at a closed area he had found while wondering while waiting to get ready. Hiding it and watching the last bit of their performance and congratulating them on a good job. Listening to the host as they caught their breaths. Jeongin slipped Y/n the little piece of paper right before they left the side stage and they got ready to go on.
     Y/n went with her group and grabbed a snack and water. She peaked at the note and let her members know she was going to go to the bathroom and take a walk around to cool off before the awards. Promising to be back in time. Y/n followed the instructions her boyfriend had written down to the little spot and waited around. Listening to the distant sounds of the beat then the fans clapping. 
     A few minutes later she heard footsteps. Y/n peaked around the corner to see her boyfriend, sweaty from his performance. 
     “Innie!” Y/n whisper-yelled at him 
     Jeongin made it around the corner and pinned her back against the wall with a smile.
     “Hi bun,” Jeongin said
     “Hi, bub.”
     Y/n pulled him in for a kiss, his hands auto-moving to hold her hips as he pressed her against the wall. 
     “Looked so good on your stage,” he mumbled against her lips
     “We have to go back soon, In.”
     “Quickie?” He asked 
     “Please, need you.”
     Y/n grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands pushed up her skirt. Grabbing the top hem of her safety shorts while she moved to unbutton his pants, both finding some difficulty with the complexity of their stage outfits but managing to work around it and get to where they wanted to be. 
     Jeongin had pushed her safety shorts down and ran two fingers between her folds. “This wet just from kissing?” he teased
     “Tease me later,” She wrapped her hand around his cock and pumped him before he turned her around and kissed the side of her neck. 
     “You sure you don’t want prep?” he asked, pressing his hips into her ass
      “We’ve gone without prep before In, I’ll be fine,” Y/n assured him 
     “Alright bun.”
     Y/n braced herself against the wall and her boyfriend lined up at her entrance, gently pushing in the tip before he grabbed her hands that were braced against the wall and laced their fingers together. 
     Y/n gripped his fingers as he stretched her open. Jeongin took to whispering soft phrases into her ear like he always did when they had their little rendezvous at shows. Slowly pushing till he was balls deep. One hand left hers and went between her legs. Nimble fingers finding her clit and rubbing it slowly to help her. 
     “Innie, move,” Y/n whined after just sitting inside wasn’t enough. 
     Jeongin pulled out and slowly pushed back in. Well aware of where they were, they had an echo. Keeping his pressure on her clit as he rocked into her. 
     Both doing their best to keep their voice down in case anyone was walking by. Gradually all sense of dignity disappeared and the thought of getting caught seemed to spur the male on. Hips and fingers started to move at a rapid speed that caught his girlfriend off guard. 
     Y/n had to slap her free hand over her mouth to stop any noise from coming out as Jeongin groaned in her ear, turning her on more. 
      Her walls contracted around him as he kept stimulating her. He had a great habit of if he couldn’t prep her then be made damn sure he came— even with prep he made sure she came when he was inside her too. 
     “‘M close Innie,” Y/n whimpered
     “Me too bun. Gonna let Innie fill you up before we go back on stage?” 
     “Yes, please, In. Fill up your bunny.”
     “Stuff you full so it’s leaking out of you. Let everyone know you're my bunny.”
     Hearing his voice so low and what he was saying triggered her orgasm. The knot inside her snapped and her release coated his cock. Jeongin pulled back from her clit and continued fucking her through her orgasm. Only stopping when he finally came and covered her walls in white. Both relaxed into each other and the wall for a few moments before fixing themselves. Trying to make it look like they didn’t just get fucked. 
     “Come over later?” Y/n asked as she wrapped her arms around him
     “Already miss me?” he teased
     “Always miss you.” Y/n smiled before pecking his lips, “Awards are soon.”
     “Come on. I’ll come over to your dorm later.” Jeongin said as he peeled her off the wall and walked with her back to their groups. 
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☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR
☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback
© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
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faef43 · 2 years ago
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PLS LOOK THE REBLOGGED POST I MADE OF THIS POST TO CONTINUE MY TIPS
HERE ARE SOME TIPS PLUS STORES TO AVOID
ALWAYS ADDING MORE SO CHECK BACK
I’ve been lifting for awhile and have collected some good tips and tricks on how to not get caught or be put in a system
-CAMERAS/MAIN TIPS-
I mainly lift small things like makeup, jewelry, small skincare, rings, pins, if it’s a good day maybe small lotions, but lifting clothes tips are coming soon!! (fixing spelling/grammar errors <3)
First of all, wear a mask and if you can style your hair in a way you usually don’t or use a beanie, bucket hat, baseball cap, never a sun hat way too suspicious. Ex. for hair: braids, space buns, slicked back, etc. I wouldn’t suggest lifting if you have brightly colored hair unless you want to go as far as to wear a realistic enough looking natural wig. Never wear sunglasses with a mask or a hat on, very suspicious, they will catch on. While finding blind spots never just turn around to face the wall and start stuffing your pockets and bag(s), instead stand at a 3/4 angle and be slick, I suggest lifting things while walking through a crowed isle, section, or doing it while walking, this one usually works if you have something small you can make it look like you’re adjusting your sleeves. ALWAYS GRAB 2 OF THE ITEM U WANT 2 LIFT, make the second one less apparent you have it, but if you take two and always keep one apparently in your hand, the cameras will be fooled. You have to have some sort of fingernails to scratch off price tags/barcodes/stickers, trust me when lifting you don’t want those on there. Take them off, rip them up and stuff it in your pocket or stuff somewhere non apparent, never throw them on the ground, super obvious. Don’t wear all baggy clothing, it’s really suspicious, always do the half half trick, half of your outfit baggy, half tight. Ex. Really tight shirt, hella baggy pants, really baggy hoodie, tight ass jeans or leggings. That way they won’t suspect you. If doing the baggy hoodie, always wear a secure sports bra underneath if u wear bras, great for slipping stuff into when pretending to adjust your bra, make sure your double of the product you want to lift is visible. By all means do not steal from target, they have high trained LP, workers that dress up as normal shoppers that they send to areas where they seek suspicion to spy on you, they keep you in a data base and share info/pics of you with other targets, cameras are nearly always monitored, store security is present, they let you walk out with things but eventually will confront you. The decision to call the police has already been made, target is a scary place, if you are gonna lift do only a 3-6 dollar thing, only once. Their employees count clothes for dressing rooms often times, pretty scary place stay safe. Some cameras are smoke detectors/speakers,boxes on the ceiling ect. Usually they’ll have some sort of light that’s always on, they look a little chunky or too far away from the ceiling. Claire’s has a ton of these so be carful, but their earrings don’t have any censors on them so they’re a great store for beginners. Interact with this post and I’ll add more too this blog♡ . -CLOTHING TIPS- If a clothing store does not have fitting rooms, don’t even try, they’ll immediately catch on+security cameras are your number one snitch. You’re gonna want to pay attention to if store employees suspect you. Ex. Fixing up areas that you’re at or around u, constant asking if you’re finding everything ok, maybe they’ll offer a store basket or bag, asking if you need anything in specific, any constant attention really. If they are leave the store, come back like a week later and try again. Your gonna wanna bring a hook with you to remove ink tags/clothing alarms while in fitting room, keep it down and try to pick a fitting room away from others to avoid suspicion. Some stores have employees stand in empty stalls next to you and listen so be aware and careful. If there are price tags try stuffing them behind the mirror or on in the landings on the floor, they’re sometimes rubber, don’t leave shit on the floor, if they already suspect u, they’ll check the fitting room when you come out. As for the alarms/ink tags, put them in ur pocket and discreetly shove them in another piece of clothing, remember to ALWAYS CHECK POCKETS ON CLOTHING.im abt to max out, look at repost of this from me 4more
ALWAYS CHECK POCKETS/COMPARTMENTS ON CLOTHING. Other lifters could have stuffed clothing alarms or price tags in there, be safe and check before trying to lift. No as where to conceal these clothing items, if you have the baggy hoody, (I suggest wearing a baggy shirt underneath too, always wear that sports bra if u wear bras{binders can also work it’s just hella uncomfy I’ve tried it})put 1-3 tops on under ur baggy T then put ur hoodie back on. Make sure they don’t count items b4 going into changing rooms. If they do, try taking a hoodie on some sort of hanger, taking it off the hanger, putting 1-2 shirts on the hanger, then put the hoodie/zip up back on. Great for lifting, if they confront you say you didn’t know and you were just tossing things in the cart, get out of there fast afterwards. It’s suspicious if you come in with a ton of clothes then don’t buy anything, sometimes you gotta buy some to win some. (Ex. I’m wearing 3 shirts under my og shirt which would add up to about 35 bucks, I buy a cheap tank top for 15, they don’t suspect me and I get freebies)
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scooburst · 6 days ago
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So here’s everything you need to know about the current situation.
My whole phone is on lockdown. I’ve been told when it finally comes back, I’ll have to delete tumblr and discord. Hopefully I can use the website and get around it. My parents are looking at blocking it on my computer as well. I don’t think they can, but thier also monitoring it so I’ll have to be very careful. I have five minutes after 7:00 AM EST to be here before it’s over. Throughout the day, I will be on for one minute twice (two one minute sessions) just to check in. From there I might be able to answer one or two asks and quickly peak at my notifications. I’ll say in the mornings a few things; what happened yesterday, updates on the situation, and if I’m okay. That will be all I’ll be able to post. Sometimes if I have it at night, I’ll come on just to say goodnight or answer a few more asks. But again, it’s only a minute. I’m trying my best to stay calm for this but it’s not going great.
What exactly happened is a bit more complicated. I’ll recount it for you all just so it’s understandable. My parents at some point looked over my computer, which was logged into tumblr and discord, and decided I was talking to complete strangers and being dangerous. Yes I was talking to people online but I was being safe, and I don’t think they’d listen to that. But that isn’t exactly stopping me from talking to those “strangers”. I don’t think my parents really even see you people as humans that are good people. But. You know. I can’t fix that. So now my phone is locked down. I can only text them and one of my friends. I can use the bare essentials. All I know is at some point it’ll be unlocked, and I’ll have to delete these sites. I’ll try to plan for that best I can. But that’s essentially what’s going on.
As for the discord if anyone’s on that. The management of it is being handled by people I trust most there. Use it however you like, and to those two: Do whatever you want with it, but keep it free and open to anyone. All I want is for you all to continue making sure the people there are okay. I will pop in every day and say I’m alive, but really not much else. And yes I will read the messages, as much as I can.
Now that that’s over, onto the newly scheduled post.
Date of writing: 11/1/24
Am I okay: not really, but I’m alive and “healthy”
Things that happened: today, I have a hockey game, and we got evacuated early from school because of bomb threats. At home I kinda just walked around. I played a little bit of guitar, I’ve been listening to music and built legos. I’m doing some puzzles as well. I’m trying to take care of myself to hopefully get my parents to let me back here.
Log: today, I was taking the chance I had to look through my notifications. And I cried. At everything you all wrote to me. I’m going to miss you all so much. You all are such amazing people. I can’t say I didn’t think you’d all say that, but it still caught me off guard. Thanks. I’m glad you all are still going, as far as I know. Keep that going. Dying isn’t good for you! I also saw someone made a whole blog of days without me. That’s insane. I don’t know what to say to that. Hopefully, it doesn’t have to count to high. I’m gonna write your urls all down so I can visit you all when I can finally be back officially. I know this is all probably really confusing with me still responding to things, but it’s just a very complicated situation right now. It sucks tp not have things like this to vent and feel better, but I have started to keep a journal so I can place my thoughts somewhere and I’m going to eventually try to open up to one of my close irl friends to hopefully have someone to talk too. I’m probably never going to just move on from this, it’ll always be something I remember and maybe something that still hurts, but it’s still some of the best memories I’ve ever had even if I cry thinking about it. I’m doing my best here to distract myself, get back into reading, maybe slowly try to build my parents trust that I can handle my phone, even though I could already. But it’s fine. Ive found a lot of entertainment in the photos app recently. Maybe when I come back I’ll share it all with you. Sorry these posts are so long. I’m just trying to stay here as much as I can. But jsut know not to worry, becahse I’m still okay, and I’m alive. Apparently I’m going to be talked to about discord and tumblr. There is some hope I can stay, but we’ll see. Either way im a sneaky boi :)
The last thing I want to say is that whoever made that blog counting how long I’m gone, you are so appreciated. I appreciate all of you really. And all of you who’ve made a post tagging me about whatever experiences you’ve had with me or put it in my askbox, you’ve made me feel so much better about this just knowing I didn’t fuck it up with you. If you didn’t make anything like that, don’t feel obligated to. Just knowing you’re alive is the best thing for me right now. Stay safe, if not for yourself, for me, and if not for me, then for someone else. I’m doing the same for all of you.
ALSO! Ima probaly make a tag list for this so you can get this as soon as possible! I know this is almost becoming a newsletter but hey that works. So if you wanna be on it, just say so (preferably in a reply or reblog to this post, with nothing but that you want in, separate from any comments about the post itself. It helps!)
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abibliophobiaa · 2 years ago
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firstly I love your new blog layout it’s so fucking cute, secondly I love you 💕 thirdly, for your baby prompts, I’m thinking……… butterfly
happiness is a butterfly
got a little carried away with this one. 3k words of modern day!best friend!eddie munson x afab!reader. contains: fluff, alcohol, confessions of feelings, bisexual reader, two friends in a room who might kiss (they do), suggestive innuendo (eddie’s a sweetheart), and argyle’s matchmaking ways. thank you @breddiemunson and @ghost-proofbaby for always calming my wild thoughts, and katie’s line where eddie asks reader not to make him say what she already knows. genius, that one.
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“happiness is a butterfly
try to catch it like every night
it escapes from my hands into moonlight…”
happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey.
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Photo after photo. Swipe after swipe. Endless hopefuls that aren’t really hopefuls, because there aren’t many of those in Hawkins these days.
No—there are merely boys, wearing the skin of men, playing with hearts with a carelessness that leaves damage in their wake. Leaves your heart ripped to shreds; battered and bruised. Wounded, but not broken, with jagged lines where smooth surfaces had once been.
Tonight is no different. Tonight you mourn your relationship with Travis. Travis, who played hockey and apparently a different girl or guy in every state. You’d only found out through social media.
One of the girls he brought back to his hotel room had posted an image on her story while he slept, which then surfaced on another person’s social media account, and then eventually became a social media article on some gossip website you couldn’t, for the life of you, be bothered to remember.
You suppose the “Travis debacle,” as Eddie has been calling it, is your fault. A guy from out of town. The allure of some famous player with a broken down car in front of the Hideout, where you worked as a bartender, that you’d had your friend Eddie fix up as a favor.
You’d tossed him his keys as the sun set, burnt orange and red across the summer sky, and he’d asked, “How much?”
And suddenly you’d spent the week welcoming him around Hawkins, as well as the intricacies of your susceptible heart. Had preened and praised him while he perused his options in the next town over on his problematic apps.
The same apps you’re now frowning at, watching the population around you continue to dwindle with every pass of your thumb.
“You know, they say insanity is—”
“Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
You shoot a glare Eddie’s way, watching his dexterous fingers pull his hair back into a makeshift bun at the back of his head. Those same fingers reach down to grab your glass, chipped black nail polish capturing your attention as he draws your drink up to his lips and takes a long sip.
“Tequila. Travis really fucked up.” He chuckles. The movement has his cropped shirt billowing around his hips, tattoos on his sides visible where the holes his arms extend through as he settles down beside you. “You know, I think you need to ditch the apps. I did, and I’m much better for it.”
“You got a puppy a few weeks ago,” you point out, finger jabbing him in the ribs. He hisses, cupping his pec. “Getting a puppy is code for throwing in the towel.”
“Ozz is the cutest puppy, I’ll have you know. Look—” He waves to Gareth as he passes by, drumsticks twirling in his hands. “Delete the apps. Take a break. Isn’t there some quote about happiness? That Nathaniel Hawthorne one. You know, the ‘happiness is a butterfly’ one you used in a paper back in school.”
“One, I can’t believe you remember that.”
Your nose wrinkles at the thought of your teenage years. Of you with braces and he himself being the first person to welcome you to sit with him on your first day of school, snapping at Jason Carver when he’d brushed by you and thumped your shoulder a little too hard for his liking.
“And two, the quote is actually ‘happiness is like a butterfly, which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp. But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.’”
“So stop chasing it. Just let it happen. C'est la vie. Carpe diem. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”
You don’t even bother letting him know none of those things mean what he thinks they do.
“Eddie.”
He loops his arm around your neck. Presses a kiss against your temple. You lean into his embrace, comfortable warmth that seeps into your bones and floods you with familiarity.
He’s hard lines against your softer edges. Inky tapestries of collected memories that tell a tale of his adventurous life on the forearm tangled in your hair. His ring-clad fingers delight in toying with the tips, hair shifting between digits like water.
Calming and soothing Eddie. A constant in your life since you were teenagers, now going on ten years of friendship later. Someone you’ve always been able to turn to at the end of the day; someone who never once questions your motives, even if he might suggest you try different methods to your lifestyle habits.
And now, your dating habits.
“I’m just saying it’s worth a try.”
-
Maybe you don’t stop right away. Maybe it takes a date with Joe, Jim and Jessica to realize the truth of Eddie’s words. Maybe there’s some weight to pushing it all aside, stepping out of the way of your own preconceived timeline, and allowing someone to walk in at the right place and time.
And on a night such as this, where Corroded Coffin are getting set up on stage and citizens are packing out the bar to see the increasingly popular band play, it’s easy to remember why swiping on your phone has brought you here. To asshole Andy Lerman standing before you while you work. Basketball coach at Hawkins High and douchebag royalty from what you remember of him back in your years of teenage angst and adolescence.
He’s had a few drinks now. You know because you’ve served him. But all they’ve done is instill courage in him to step over to the girl who people teased in school for being a “freak fucker” by merely being associated with Eddie, claiming time ‘really did wonders for you.’
He’s staring at your tits when he says it, and it takes everything in you to not toss his next drink in his face. But in a town where money is hard to come by, and there’s not much to do by way of work, bartending pays the bills, and you’re not about to mess up one of the few good gigs left.
“Andy, it’s really not going to work,” you tell him, “but here. Your last one of the night…on me.”
With a quick pat to his shoulder, you send him on his merry way with a fuller pocket and a story to warp when regaling his friends with the time he pity-invited the “freak fucker” on a date.
“Don’t look now, my lady, but Eddie Munson is staring at you,” Argyle says, working on mixing a margarita beside you for a patron.
“He’s not staring at me,” you retort, sliding a vodka soda across the bar, thanking your customer for the hefty tip they toss your way. At Argyle’s raised brow, you reiterate, “he’s not.”
“He’s always staring. That’s the look Eden gives me. You know, the look of someone in l—”
Argyle’s words are cut short as Eddie appears on the other side of the bar, bare elbows pressing against the counter, hair falling out of his ponytail, bangs long overdue for a cut shifting every time he blinks.
“Are you okay?” He asks, thanking Argyle as he passes him the beer he knows he prefers. At your arching brow, he continues, “I saw Andy Lerman flirting with you. You looked uncomfortable.”
You snort, getting to work on a moscow mule. “That’s because I was uncomfortable. But I took care of it. I appreciate you always looking out, though.”
He reaches over and grabs your chin. Gives your head a little wiggle until you’re grinning against his palm. Then reaches his fingers over toward you, rests them so gently against your curled palm resting on the bar and pauses. He waits a moment and closes his ringed fingers into a fist, knocking his knuckles against yours.
Then he’s off toward the stage to get ready, leaving you with a knot in your throat and warmth prickling against your skin.
Argyle passes you a knowing smile and before you can yell at him to get back to work, embarrassment roiling in your chest, he announces he’s going to take a quick break and call his wife.
His words spin in your head once more. Comparing Eddie’s gazes to Eden’s. To the nature of the depth in which he cares for you. But you shake your head free of it.
You’ve been unlucky in love.
It couldn’t be so simple.
-
Argyle’s words don’t change much in regards to your Eddie conundrum.
They’re a phantom in the back of your mind. Wispy tendrils of a memory that feels distant now.
Weeks pass, and the warm heat of summer in Hawkins turns to a sweltering hell on earth.
The Hideout becomes quieter most evenings. Those with air conditioning prefer to stay home, remain by their pools, to host gatherings where alcohol and coolers are plentiful.
And you don’t blame them, letting out a long huff as you wipe down the counter, while Argyle counts your tips.
“Oh, how was that date with…Paul, was it?” He muses thoughtfully, beginning to split the money.
“Not great.”
“You said that about the last three. What was wrong with this one?”
And that’s the thing. You sit across from these people, trying to force a square into a circle, trying to sparse out the qualities that they’re lacking.
Not funny enough. Not the right hair color. They lack that unruly smile. That glimmer of brightness in their amber eyes. There’s no dimple in Paul’s cheek. No banter on your date with Jeremiah. Caleb doesn’t like metal, and Kayla thinks D&D is a breeding ground for satanism (you’d thought that one was left in the 80s, but it appears not).
“He said Dio was overrated.”
“Interesting,” Argyle laughs, shaking his head.
You whirl around, damp bar towel flicking water his way. “What’s so interesting?”
“Just funny when two people are so obviously similar and don’t even see it,” he says, humming to himself, conversation over.
And that was that.
-
It’s funny, you think, that it only hits you then.
Like the flutter of butterfly wings on your flowerbeds you’d managed to stumble upon earlier that morning, the flicker of wings on a bird in the sky. The soft beating of both, like the constant thump of a heart in a chest.
A constant.
It’s the word everything hitches on as you sit on that work table in your garage, watching the man who stopped everything he was doing when you’d called earlier at the drop of a hat. All just to make sure you were okay.
That same person who is now up to his elbows in grease, fingers stained an oily black. With his hair pulled away from his face, you catch the determined line of his mouth, the jut of his tongue pushing lightly against pink lips. The corded lines of his arms move as he works, barest hint of stomach on display when he reaches up to slam the hood of your car down once it’s finished.
You toss him a towel, grinning at the shadowy form of him blocking the sun from your eyes. “Sorry you’re doing this instead of the movies.”
“Stop that. You know I’m happy to spend any time with you, sweetheart,” he laughs, wiping the planes of his face that are streaked like the fingers pressing against terry cloth to keep it in place. “Fixed the alternator and did an oil change. Seeing as you always forget anyway.”
He walks over slowly, grunting when your sandaled foot kicks him playfully in the kneecap. “That was why my car made that awful sound and shut off?”
“Exactly.” He curls the towel around his neck. “Day is still young. How about we—”
“Why’d you delete all your dating apps?”
The words fall from you in a rush. A swift exhale that has Eddie’s back drawn ramrod straight. Rigid, but not with anger. Instead, you watch that full mouth part just slightly. Like the words he had been about to say were lost to the wind, left to titter away into nothingness.
He swallows audibly, palm sliding over the towel across his neck. “I…just didn’t see the point in them.”
Determination hardens your resolve. Brings to attention Argyle’s teasing these weeks. The wondering, questioning, burgeoning curiosities brimming. So you utter a simple, “Why?” and try your damndest to ignore the nerves welling up in your chest at the fear of what comes next.
“Just kind of felt like I was using them to get over someone else,” he admits, taking a step closer.
Your bare knees brush the tops of his thighs. Warmth seeps into your skin, bristles at his touch.
Dark eyes drag along your form. Along the dress you wore that evening, covered in flowers, a thin thing that would have fluttered in the wind if you and Eddie had been able to do what you’d planned for the day. Simple drive to the lake to eat some lunch, share a joint and fish (a new hobby he'd picked up from his uncle), then movies at the theater when the sun had set.
You meet his stare. Remind yourself of those eyes that had been on you the whole time Andy had leaned over the bar just weeks ago. Ready at any moment to come to your aid, should you have needed it. He’s never pushed you, never crossed the boundaries of your friendship, trusted you knew best.
But he’d always been there if you ever needed a hand.
You only ever needed to reach out.
Always.
You swallow thickly. “Who?”
“Don’t make me tell you what you already know.”
It’s quiet. A plea for pity that has your heart clenching within your chest.
But it’s not scary.
It’s not frightening at all.
Dozens of memories flash behind your eyes.
Of teenage years, laughing in the cafeteria, trading snacks, sneaking off to the woods between classes to smoke. Of you in community college, and his van screeching through the parking lot to take you to lunch between classes. Of nights at his place, your place, the movies, around town. Of ice cream at Lover’s Lake with his van doors swung wide, trying to make out the shapes of the clouds in the sky.
Birthday parties, milestones, weddings, grieved losses.
To highs and lows and everything in between. To all those shitty dates, to his own failed dating escapades. To that time you had to ice his lip in the back of the Hideout when Jeff had accidentally elbowed him in the face, or when you’d fallen off Max’s skateboard and ripped open your shin and he’d had to hold your hand while he disinfected it.
To this very moment, where he’s just finished fixing your car. To him with his dirty palm tapping lightly against your kneecap, feet shifting awkwardly beneath him.
Your head tips up and you catch the downturn of his lips, frozen in time by your prolonged silence.
Argyle was right.
“What?”
You hadn’t realized you spoke out loud, but confusion swirls behind Eddie’s gaze all the same, mollified only when your hand snakes up around the back of his neck and drags him downward to your level. Only when you pour your affection into him where you’re finally, lovingly, connected at last.
The fullness of his mouth against the softness of yours is hesitant at first, like his brain needs a moment to catch up to his current reality, before he’s tipping your head up with his hand. Until his fingers slide across your cheek, cupping you gently, easing you closer to him.
Before long he’s gripping you closer. Deft fingers in the dough of your thighs, tugging you flush against him, skirt indecently high up on your hips. But you don’t care. Not as your ankles lock around his waist, nor as he hums into your throat while he leaves a sloven path along your skin, learning the sounds you make when he’s tender, sweet—when he scores his teeth against your pulse point and you melt like putty beneath his devotion filled fingertips.
Ten years. Ten years of watching that silly butterfly float away into the sky, only for it to have been there all along.
Only for it to have been the man with his forehead against yours, noses flush together, your fingers beneath his shirt and his around the bend of your kneecaps.
You’re not sure where you start and he ends, but even that incites a new thrill, a new world to explore further. A desire to know the depths of him beyond the limit of friendship.
“Argyle got to you too, huh?” At your nod, Eddie barks out a laugh. Kisses you softly. “Fuckin’ guy thinks he’s Cupid or something.”
“I don’t want to talk about Argyle right now.”
Eddie’s lips curl into a grin. The whites of his teeth flash in your gaze, your fingers trailing along his stubble-lined jaw.
“I don’t either.” His thumb comes to swipe at your cheek, dimple in his cheek twitching slightly. “Got you a little greasy. Just…ten years, you know? Got a little carried away.”
You nod, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. He watches as you hop down from the work table, brow arching curiously as you tug him toward the door leading into your home. “Well, like you said, we’ve got ten years to catch up on. So before I kiss you more, Edward Munson, we’re going to shower.”
“We?” He swallows, voice hoarse. “Like a two people conserving water shower?”
You enter the small laundry room, humming as his chest brushes your own, his weight just enough against yours to press you into the lip of your drying machine. Cool metal chills your skin at the open back of your dress, balanced by the heat of the knee that slides between your thighs to pin you in place. Your body both buzzes with life and oozes honey into your system as you melt into him, pliant under that smoldering dark gaze of your best friend in front of you.
“We,” you nod, grinning into his kiss. “After that we’re cuddling on the couch and ordering a pizza.”
“And tomorrow…I’m taking you on a date.”
-
🦋
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peaky-shelby · 2 years ago
Text
New Romantics | Mbappé [7]
» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.
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» chapter 7: Play My Ace
» writers note: chapter 7 about a story with a man with the number 7, the day after PSG scored 7 goals, that starts with number 7 on the first line. This is witch craft at its best. This page is meant as a passage to the deeper plots. Lmk what you think xx
» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113 @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon @formula101x @neymarloverxxx @cepolar @freespirit-51 @marialikescherries @superswaggycooch
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GALTIER'S OFFICE - DAY
“What about number 7?”
Taylor felt as if her feet were glued on the floor. Her eyes stayed on the folder that Galtier was holding. Like she was hoping that the missing report would magically appear out of thin air, as if she hoped that this was a dream and if she looked carefully enough she’d wake up. None of those things happened, she just continuing staying still in front of her very confused boss, looking like a silly person. Her mind began wondering back to the night before, she had left the folder on her desk, just before she went in the shower. She had counted all the reports at least 10 times just to make sure they were all there. Then she said goodbye to Trish and Trish left and she went back to the bathroom and then- he happened.
“Please god tell me to leave.”
Why didn’t she?
“Wilock are you alright?” Galtier asked, waking her up from her trance. She realized she had closed her eyes and that her face was probably giving away the mess that was going on in her mind. She walked around the desk and reached for the folder, looking at the reports one by one. Searching for Kylian’s. She went through all of them with her finger, again and again. Until she came in terms with the fact that it was gone, she let her hands hang and left the files on the desk. She looked at Marquinhos for help, in truth she wanted to start crying because the only scenario that made sense was Kylian having stolen the report. That sort of betrayal stunk deep, especially while she could still feel his hands on her body, his palms on her hips, holding her whole. His lips on her neck, her hands on his short curls, her mouth on his, telling him secrets about herself in ways she hadn’t told anyone in a long time. The blood had completely left her face just in the thought, Marcos must have seen it.
“It must have fallen over the bed.” He said, jumping in to help her. “Right, Taylor?”
She gulped “yeah.” She tried hard to recollect herself, looking only at Marquinhos because he was the only kind of comfort she had. She even considered hugging him because she was sure eventually her feet would give in. Marquinhos nodded at her, reminding her about the person next to her. She looked at him, her expression turning icy again “I’m really sorry. I must have left it on the desk, I’ll get it to you tomorrow morning”
“Things like that happen.” Marcos added, looking at Galtier much more relaxed than she was “We are not gonna get to finish reading these until tomorrow anyway, it won’t make a difference.” He looked at Taylor. Gratefulness was pouring from her eyes. “Have it here tomorrow Taylor.”
“Yes of course.”
Galtier stood up, fixing his suit and huffing “Tragedies seem to follow you around Ms. Wilock. I hope your talent is worth it.” He eyed her, up and down “We’ll meet you downstairs. Go find the boys.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She left the office, maybe a little too quick but she didn’t care. She sprinted down the hallways, looking left and right to find him. He was here somewhere, she would get her hands on him eventually. Then it dawned on her if he had seen the reports maybe he knew the whole story, maybe he knew exactly who she was. She stopped, her entire body freezing in the empty halls. She could see the exit door, he was out there, she knew it. But did she really want to face him in front of everyone, and what if he had already said everything to everyone? What if all the boys hated her now? “oh Jesus…” she whispered, her hand running down her face. She held on her head, pulling back her hair, she could rip them off right now and she wouldn’t care.
A hand on her shoulder. She jumped. Turned around.
“You alright Princessa?”
Her eyes softened when she saw Ney. His eyes comforting as always, they had really become friends in the last few days. When she counted down all her possible losses from this lie, he was the bigger one. But he was still smiling at her, so he didn’t know.
“I need to tell you something.” She said.
“Can it wait till lunch? I’m late.” He squeezed her shoulder three times and pecked her cheek quickly “I’ll see you out there” he said, smiling and started running outside.
“Wait…” she murmured but it wasn’t loud enough. Perhaps on purpose. She stood watching him until someone bumped against her shoulder, passing by her. She looked up-
“HEY YOU!” She yelled when she saw him. But Kylian didn’t stop, he didn’t even spare a glance for her. She hesitated before following him outside, picking up her pace. When they were in the outside area she grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. He yanked her hand away, his dark eyes settling on her. He was holding his gloves on his hands, about to put them on.
“What do you want?”
“Did you take it?” she questioned, getting closer at him, she held her head back while he looked down at her.
“No idea what you are talking about.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and walking away. She scoffed, unable to believe that this was actually happening to her. He went outside, pushing the door open. She followed him.
“You know I knew you were a pig but not this much” she yelled, when she stepped outside. That made everyone look. Kylian stopped his pace and turned around to face her. She got in his face quickly and pushed him on the shoulders. Neymar and Hakimi ran to them. Kylian laughed at her “You should be ashamed”
“I am the one who should be ashamed?” he asked, his eyes widening “What about you TJ?” he asked, eying her up and down.
“Do not fucking call me that!” she yelled, launching herself forward to hit him again but Neymar, quickly slipped his arm around her, pulling her back. The rest of the team was approaching them slowly, and the ones that weren’t approaching them were watching carefully.
“I’m sorry you have so many names, sometimes I get them mixed up.” He said and he said it so coldly that it felt like am insult. Like he had been betrayed. She yanked Neymar’s arm away and launched forward at him again but she was stopped by Messi this time. Who put himself between them.
“What is going on?” he asked, holding her still. She ignored him, looked over his shoulder at Kylian.
“I’d spit on you but you’re not even worth that”
“You look tired, did you get any sleep last night?” he asked, in a way testing her and she would have gone for another round if it wasn’t for Galtier showing up behind them. It was Neymar that warned her, whispering in her ear and making her turn in Galtier’s direction. Thankfully he was engaged in a conversation with Marquinhos so he didn’t notice the chaos at first. But when he saw everyone gathered around, he raised his eyebrows.
“Everything ok, here?” Asked Galtier. None of them said anything “I don’t suppose you told them without us, Ms. Wilock?”
She wanted the earth to swallow her whole. She wanted to run, move to another country, change her name and her entire appearance if she had to. Kylian made a step forward, he looked more interested than anyone else. She glanced at him, crossing her arms right in front of her chest.
“Tell us what?” Asked Neymar, putting his arm around her shoulder. God she felt so dirty.
Kylian smiled, he knew what was coming.
“Well for the last few weeks we’ve been testing something along with her—”
“Was it our patience?” joked Verratti but he only got the side eye from Galtier.
“As some of you may have already noticed, Taylor has been very involved in your training and the games.” Kylian looked down, finally putting on his gloves. God was he going to enjoy the truth coming out, everyone finding out she’s the writer they all hate. It’s what she deserved for the lies she had said, everyone finding out she was jw— “That’s because she was never here only to write about it.” Wait what? He looked up, confused with where this was going “She’s gonna be part of the coaching crew.” His eyes shot up, he looked straight at her. She was avoiding his gaze at all costs. He looked at Galtier, Marquinhos. His mouth dropping open. Then back at her.
“What?” he asked, his voice coming out louder than he expected.
“This has to be a joke.” Verratti laughed, it was an awkward laugh.
Neymar pulled away to look at her.
“Miss Taylor Wilock, was a professional player like you. She was in Chelsea and very close to joining her national team.”
“yeah we already knew about that part.” Said Verratti
“I assure you her experience is the one we are looking for along of course with her talent in analyzing both the games and the players, as all of you must have realized by now.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” Questioned Neymar, a smile playing on his lips in contrast to Kylian whose expression has remained in shock while he was adding everything up. Including the fact that the report he had taken was always meant for Galtier. And the fact that he had fucked one of his coaches, but that was a whole other conversation.
“I’m the one the offered her the job after reading her work.” Continued Galtier “Marquinhos was the one with the initial idea.”
She still couldn’t look at anybody, she was staring at the grass, digging on it with her foot. She was basically cuddling herself. Excepting the next bomb to go off.
“Not just a chipmunk after all, ha?” Smiled Ramos. He walked over to her, putting out his hand for her ���knew you had it in you.” She looked at it but didn’t take it.
“I can’t believe this!” Neymar said, smiling. He cuddled her head, rubbing the top “smallest coach I’ve ever had.”
“I expect you to treat her with the equal respect you treat all your other coaches Number 10. No matter her size or gender.”
“She certainly has my respect” Said Messi. “she’s proved herself more than ones.”
Kylian watched most of the team, gathering around her to congratulate her. He was the only one that knew the whole truth wasn’t out yet, he had to watch through her mocking everyone in their face again. He couldn’t stand it.
“Where did you read her work?” he asked, everyone looking at him now. She released herself from Neymar to look at him also. He almost fell sorry for her by the way her eyes settled on him but he was too angry to care. “Thought she was just the assistant.” It was so cruel, the way that he said it. It was so obvious too. Everyone made a step back, silence falling around them. It was like he had raised a gun on her head, the puling hitting her on the head.
“Wait…” Neymar whispered. He hands dropped away from her, he was calculating everything along with everyone else.
“Since we are revealing things, Taylor would you like to tell the boys that the way you managed to get this job was by digging a hole for each one of us.” She didn’t say anything. Neymar’s eyes were too heavy for her to bare. As was Ramos look of disappointment. “Golden girl, not so golden, hm?” he threw her words back at her as any cruel man would.
“Enough with the theatricals please.” Ordered Galtier, seeing how everyone was excitement, if there ever was any, was leaving their faces. No one seemed too happy now, there was anger, sadness, puzzlement and disbelief. “Back to training. All of you. Coach Wilock” God that sounded weird “Has made a schedule for everyone today. I suggest you follow it, not that you have a choice” he laughed, smiling “Go!” That was a last warning for everyone. He left after it and some of the boys remained exactly where they were.
Taylor tried to reach for Neymar but he shook her hand away without saying anything. He ran on the field, away from her. Kylian was the last one to stay, their eyes meeting in silence. Both of them traitors and betrayed in the deepest way anyone can betray and be betrayed. It would have been an emotional confrontation if they both weren’t so stubborn at showing emotions to each other. He drew away, back at his team and training started under the most broken environment there ever had been on this field. Marquinhos came up behind her, giving her a red jacket. She looked at it.
“Its tradition. All coaches have one. Makes it easier to see you when you are yelling at them. Got a whistle in there too.”
“I’m not gonna yell at them” she said, taking the jacket and looking at it. Her fingers stroking the fabric like it was a uniform.
“Give it an hour” he smiled.
“I think I should be gentle for now. Till they trust me again.”
“I mean Galtier was right, they don’t have a choice.” He patted her on the back and ran on the field.
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During training she noticed how Kylian would do his own things on purpose, not following the schedule. She tried to get near the guys a few times. Starting short conversations and correcting them kindly, like she used to before anyone found out the truth. She tried to get near Neymar as well, he’d barely look at her but at least he listened when she told him to focus on his right leg. Comments and laughs didn’t escape her ear, mostly from Verratti and his crew. She’d ignore them but they were piling up.
Kylian was running in between the cones with the ball, Verratti following behind him.
“fucking JW.” He said. Kylian offered him a quick glance, before stopping and holding the ball still with his leg. “can you believe it?” He looked at taylor, she was occupied talking with Messi. “how did you find out?” he asked.
Kylian didn’t know how to answer that. He shrugged his shoulders and motioned his hands like he was giving an answer but he wasn’t really saying anything. He was just making sounds “you know…I” he cleared his throat “just saw her notebook, and her name and did the math.”
Verratti nodded and Kylian got out of the conversation as fast as he could. Because thinking of the night he spent with her, it was making his skin itch. Holding her, touching her. Their legs tangled around the sheets—
“where did you find the notebook?” Asked Hakimi, having listened on the conversation. His friend looked at him as he stopped running. “she left early yesterday.” His silence was a good enough answer for Hakimi, who got closer so no one else could hear him. “don’t know what happened but fix your story before you get yourself and her in real trouble.”
At this point he didn’t really care about her but If the truth was to come out, considering the circumstances it would be ugly. He still hadn’t processed fully the situation, the brutal truth; he slept with his coach.
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TRAINING CAMPUS / KITCHEN – LATER
Just like the first day she got there when she entered the cafeteria, silence fell. It was a cold silence, much heavier and personal. The looks were colder. She ignored them, same way she had been ignoring everything all day. She went to the counter and took her dish. She sat on a table alone, taking out her notebook and started rereading her previous notes just to keep herself occupied.
Kylian came in a while later, laughing. God was his laugh annoying to her ears at that point. He sat a few tables away from her with Hakimi, Ramos and Verratti. Sometimes he’d glance at her and that’s how she knew they were talking about her. Giggling and mocking her probably. It was driving her insane but she swallowed it too. Then his laugh got louder, nothing in the world could have been as funny. He was provoking her. She looked over at Marquinhos who shrugged his shoulders, like he was asking her why the hell she was putting up with this. That reminded her, she’d never put up with it a few weeks ago. The laughs and the jokes, the disrespect. She thought if they’d treat her the same if she was a man. Probably not. She couldn’t keep swallowing it anymore. She got up, getting her glass of water with her. She walked over to his table, standing behind him and with a simple movement, twisted her glass so the liquid would fall on him. Flowing from his head to his shirt. Gasps were heard all around the room, snorts and chuckles, people grasping their mouth so they wouldn’t laugh. Like she had done something bad, but oh why did it feel so good?
It took Kylian a few long minutes to react. He got up slowly, turning around to face her. Their high difference wasn’t at all intimidating to her, if anything it was entertaining putting him in his place despite it.
“Number 7, please go change. You look like shit and you’ll get a cold. We can’t afford that. Your lunch is over and I need you back on the field.”
He laughed “that’s not happening.”
“You have 5 seconds, otherwise I’ll add another 2 hours on your day’s training.”
He laughed again “who do you think you are?”
“Your coach, in case you missed the memo. 3 seconds by the way.” she said looking at her hand watch. My god, he thought, she is serious, but he didn’t move. Everyone was watching closely, waiting for their next move. Taylor looked up at him, smiling. “That’s another 2 hours for you then.”
Verratti stood up, standing by his friend. Hakimi pulled him down, the same second, by his sleeve, forcing him to sit before he said anything.
“you can’t do this.” He protested.
She kept her eyes on him but called for Marquinhos “Marcos can I?”
Marcos laid back on his chair, smiling “I mean you are a coach, so if you think it’s necessary, yes.” He took a piece of bread, taking a bite. “do you think it’s necessary?”
“Absolutely.” She grinned.
“I’ll go to Galtier with this.”
“Can he go to Galtier with this?” she asked
“Technically he can. I doubt it will be in his favor.” Said Marquinhos.
Kylian looked at Marquinhos from the corner of his eye and he gave him a teasing wave in return.
She smiled “why don’t you go change golden boy. Hate seeing you wet like this.”
Kylian bit on his tongue like he was stopping himself from going to far with his words. “think twice before you start a war like this Wilock.”
She made a step forward, her gaze as judgy and dangerous as it had always been “You didn’t, why would I?”
“you’ll regret this.”
“Too busy regretting other things.” She hissed, showing him her teeth and making sure he could sense the way her eyes were burning as she scanned him. “Not gonna say it again. Go change.”
Hakimi tried to hold Verratti down but this time he jumped of his seat, getting on Taylor’s face “This is bullshit.” Hakimi lowered his head on his palms, groaning.
“Wanna join him Number 6?” she warned, her attention settling on him. “In fact, how about your whole crew here joins? Ramos do you feel like an extra two hours? You could work on your freekick—”
“Verratti sit the fuck down.” Said Ramos.
Kylian put out his hand, motioning for Verratti to sit. He gave Taylor one last threatening look and left the cafeteria, with his head held high. Small chatters began after his exit, taylor reached on her pocket, taking out her whistle and hanging it around her neck. She looked at Verratti, reaching for the unfinished apple on his tray. She held it up for him. “from now on you play by my rules, or you don’t play at all. Finish your apple, you have a long day ahead of you.” She smiled, handing it to him. She walked towards the exit, stopping right in front of the door. She blew the whistle, making everyone jump as they looked at her.
“Believe it or not I’m here to help. And in the last few weeks I’ve grown to care for this team . I understand that some of you were hurt and confused. I get it even. but if you let it risk your progress then it’s on you. Because I’m not about to play around.”
None of them said anything, some of them were smiling, some were pouting, some of them couldn’t even look at her but all of them came to the same realization. She’s here to stay.
She blew the whistle one more time, making everyone jump again. “You have 20 minutes to finish your meal. Last one on the pitch gets a 100 push ups.”
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Taylor ran down the stairs, looking for Kylian because she certainly wasn’t done with him. She looked on the locker rooms first, all of them. she eventually found him on the bathrooms.
He was standing in front of the mirror, naked from the waist up while he was changing his shirt. She walked in, shutting the door and blowing her whistle. Both noises scaring him enough to turn around, mid putting his shirt- and even slightly jumping. Finally she was the one scaring them, and she was having fun.
“What is wrong with you?” he asked, his tone way angrier than before and way more honest now that they were alone.
“Where is my fucking report?” she asked coldly.
“wanna do this when I’m dressed?” he argued.
“Nothing special I haven’t seen before.”
He laughed, turning his back on her. She went closer, blew the whistle on his ear, he screamed, turning back around and waving his shirt, almost hitting her “Who the hell gave you that?”
“Give me back my report.”
“Where do you think I have it, up my ass?”
She laughed ironically “No obviously not. Your ass is not big enough to fit it as far as I remember” He grinned, scoffing. She made a step forward “so what did you do with it?”
“must have fallen over somewhere, don’t worry I’ll tell Galtier personally—” She slapped him before he could even process it. He had a feeling that slap wasn’t meant just for the missing report. He rubbed his cheek, looking away from her, while his breathing got heavier. “You know, I can file a complaint over this coach—”
“Shut up.” She warned “shut up because I swear to god I really, really wanna punch you in the face right now and I have to go against every fiber of my being not to.” She closed her eyes “GOD!” she yelled, stepping away from him, stretching her fingers to resist the need to slam them against his face “How could I fall for this—”
“You’re the victim here? Really? After all the lies you told in my face—to them also! But especially to me, all your advices about not listening to the world, not struggling for their expectation when you were the one that would set them as high! You knew what you were doing to me and you kept fucking doing it—”
“I was writing what I was seeing! And what I was seeing was a talent going to waste with mid level performances—”
“Mid level performances? Seemed to me my performance last night left you satisfied.” He cut her off, topping her voice. She felt dirty, so did he. But they were on a mission to make each other feel dirtier.
“Yeah..” she spat out “it was a great performance. Have you considered an acting career? Think you’ll need a new one anyway the way you are going.” He drew his lower lip between his teeth, chewing on it. “I mean…” she snorted “Sleeping with somebody to steal a fucking report. Is that how desperate you are—”
He held tighter on his shirt, searching for her eyes, processing her accusation. “that’s what you think?” his forehead creased when he got no reply, a line appearing between his brows “you think I slept with you to get the report?”
She shook her head “no, don’t do that. Do not mess with my head.”
“I didn’t even know that report existed before I came to your apartment!”
“Why did you steal it then?”
“I don’t know maybe because I realized I slept with someone that wrote a 5 pages essay meant to ruin my career—” she scoffed.
“My god I swear, I’ve met 7 year olds more mature than you are!”
“—meanwhile she forgets to mention she’s gonna be my new coach—" he raised his voice, both of them practically yelling at each other.
“you’re the one that barged into my apartment—.”
“I didn’t know what I was getting myself into though! Did I?”
“Oh boohoo, Kylian Mbappe has been manipulated by his new coach, is that the story you’re going with?”
“I wouldn’t know. You’re the expert in writing stories and telling lies. Does it sound catchy enough to you?”
“It sounds bullshit.” She prompted and stepped forward. “Just like anything else that has come out of your mouth ever since I met you.”
“Would love to find out what it would sound like to Galtier.”
She went pale. It was perhaps the idea that he set in her mind that he was capable of going that far if he wanted to. In reality he wouldn’t be harmed by the truth coming out. Not as much as she’d be. She’d be humiliated as a professional and as a woman.
He leaned in, the proximity getting as dangerous as it was last night. She didn’t flatter. “do you understand the consequences—”
“YOU THINK I DON’T?” She yelled in his face. “the consequences are much bigger for me then they are for you. I’m already fucking dealing with them because of you. So where the fuck is it Kylian?”
He pouted, his eyes dropping to her lips, a part of him needing to taste her again despite the circumstances. Like she was cocaine and he was a long and loyal user. He raised his shoulders slightly, letting them fall again. “Can’t remember.” He whispered.
She looked at his lips too, a grin appearing on hers. She leaned closer to him, her lips brushing his ear and she whispered “I’m gonna make you wish were dead.” she raised her whistle to her mouth quickly and blew it in his ear. He jumped and screamed, covering his ear while she walked away. Declaring war.
Kylian threw his shirt on the ground in anger, and hit the air with his fist. This woman could drive him in a madhouse. He wanted to hit something, he needed it to. He kicked on o one of the doors of the stalls before he could think about it. He groaned at the contact with his toes, regretting it immediately after. “MERDE!” he yelled and it echoed in the empty room.
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PLAY
“IF I WANTED BALLARINAS I WOULD HAVE GONE TO THE OPERA” She screamed at them “FASTER”
Taylor was having too much fun with her whistle. She’d use it repeatedly, any way she could while commanding the boys. She’d walk around the field and go down on the gym. Yes even in the gym they couldn’t hide from her.
“are you taking a break Hakimi?” she asked, while he was lifting weights with his legs, sitting on one of the machines. He stopped, raising her eyebrows “my ex boyfriend could lift that in his sleep. More weights.”
Hakimi searched the room for Kylian, his inner child blaming only him for Taylor torturing him. He pointed at him “your fault.” He mouthed.
On the field she was walking passed them and correcting their posture or noting their little flaws. Marquinhos watched from a distance while the boys did their cross every time she walked by like she was the devil herself or closing their ears just before she’d blow that goddamn whistle.
“its like she turned into a monster.” Mumbled Ektike to Kimpembe while they were doing pushups that she had ordered them too.
“You think if we say her name three times in the mirror, we’ll set a curse?” asked Kimpembe
“I think I’ll be hearing that whistle in my nightmares until the day I die”
“Can both of you shut up before she gives us another 100?” Hissed Bernat and continued with his exercise.
Across from them were Ramos and Neymar playing a one on one, the ball rolling back and forth between them. “who would have thought Kylian was right about her…” mumbled Ramos. Neymar didn’t answer, he kept his eyes on the ball. He didn’t want to talk about it “she’s still a little badass if you think about it.”
“Sure” he mumbled, his eyes reflecting the sadness he was trying to hide.
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Taylor stood outside of the field to have a clear watch, her arms crossed on her chest. Marquinhos came near her, holding his arms behind his back. She glanced at him, almost smiling.
“I think you are having too much fun.”
“Just for today. Needed to prove something.” She grinned “but yeah I’m having a little fun.”
He nodded “fair enough. You gonna let them go or are you going to keep them here forever?”
She checked her clock “yeah. Not number 7 though. He has another two hours.”
Marquinhos smiled..“I’ll let them know.”
Just as Marquinhos was going to call the guys, Neymar passed in front of her. She followed him with her eyes before reaching for his arm to stop him. He looked at her, his expression blank.
“Can we talk?”
“If I say no, you’re gonna give me another hour in training?”
“No of course not.”
“Then not today.” He said simply and moved away.
“Junior!” she called and he stopped, turning to look at her. He motioned his hands like he was asking her what she wanted. She hesitated “You don’t need to trust me as a friend anymore but I need you to trust me as a coach. Please.”
He nodded “you had all my trust as a coach, you never needed to lie. That’s the problem”
He left her and the other players left the field as well a few minutes later, all except one.
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PLAY
Taylor sat on the bench at first while the night was falling around them and the stars appeared in the sky. She got up later, keeping her distance from him while Kylian’s figure ran in between cones and up and down the grass, a ball always in between his legs. Sometimes her eyes focused on his thighs and not his feet, whenever she’d notice, she’d clear her throat and look away like she was a school girl. It was one of those times when she suddenly felt the ball hitting her ankle. She looked up, an annoying looking Kylian raising his hands.
“Keep your head in the game, isn’t that what you always say?” he yelled from the other side.
“Didn’t know I was playing.” She explained and kicked it back at him. It was a clear shot, it landed right in front of him and he got it in his ankle shooting it up, before it even hit the ground, then maneuvered his body to do back heel kick and score in the net. He cheered at his win, even though no one was there to stop the goal. They were alone in the field, shadows in the dark. Kylian ran and took the ball back, he continued playing by himself, sometimes she’d notice that he’d stop and look at his toes like he was in pain but she wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t want to know. She looked at her clock again, just a few minutes left.
The ball rolled in between her feet again, this time he was closer to her. When had he gotten so close?
“How long can you keep the ball for?”
“I’m not doing this Kylian.”
“Hold it for longer than 10 minutes and I’ll give you your report back.” Her eyes sparked in the darkness. He moved closer, taking the ball under his foot and bringing it closer to him “Not up for it coach?” he asked, keeping it for himself.
Taylor looked around to make sure no one was watching and unzipped her jacket, throwing it on the ground. Kylian grinned and kicked the ball back at her. She moved away quickly; he chased her. It was a classic dribbling exercise, she’d move it from her left to her right leg and whenever he got close enough, she’d roll it backwards. Kylian moved around her carefully, she almost made it to 10 minutes but he slipped his leg in between her and made contact with the ball kicking it away. She lost her balance and fell forward on him, he held her arms, his hands gripping on hers just to keep her steady, her hands clasping on his biceps automatically. They both looked up at the same time, her nose brushing against his chin, their eyes meeting. They stared at one another, warming each other’s face with their breathing. He got even closer, she stood still, there was something incredibly romantic about an empty field.
“You lost” he whispered on her lips and pulled away. She laughed bitterly, placing her hands on her hips while he walked inside the building.
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Kylian didn’t realize that she was following until he saw her opening the passenger’s door and sitting inside the car like she had been invited. He took a moment for himself before lowering his body, holding on his door and looking at her.
“what are you doing?”
She didn’t answer.
“I’m not driving you home.”
“you don’t have to. I’ll come get my report and then I’ll leave.”
He laughed “absolutely not”
“I wasn’t asking Kylian.”
“I’m gonna call security.”
She snorted “for what?”
“the crazy woman in my car.”
“I’ll explain to them that you’ve stolen my things and I need to get them back.”
“In what language? All you can say is bonjour with the worst accent I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“for your information I have a 2 week strike on Duolingo.”
“Get out” he warned.
“Non, je suis contente”
It did something to him. Listening to her speak the language even if the accent was worse than he expected. He chewed his tongue, watching while she put on her seatbelt, unbothered by his warnings and laid back, getting even more comfortable. He slapped on his door, cursing any curse he knew on his vocabulary. He laughed. “You know if you wanted to see my house, you could have just asked”
Her head shot up, looking at him “let me make one thing absolutely clear you low life son of a bitch- the only reason I’m in you filthy car is because I know that report is in your fucking house and I’m not leaving until you drive me there and give it to me.”
“you are a sore loser, you know that?”
“Must be your impact.” She said without even looking at him. He moved away, closed the door to his car and crossed his arms. She looked at the empty seat next to her and then at him.
“I can stay here all night.”
“Really?” she laughed. “ok” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. She looked at the ignition making sure it was keyless and thank God for her it was. She slid herself on the driver’s seat, pushing the button and watching the board coming to life. Kylian stepped forward to take a better look at what she was doing, doubting she was actually going to do this. Taylor scrolled down on the tablet screen for his house address “oh here it is.”
“alright that’s enough—” he went to open the door but she locked it before he could. Kylian slammed his hand on the roof of the car. “Open the door Wilock!”
“Always wanted to drive a car like this” the engine got louder as she played around with the options. “Do you have car insurance, just to be sure?” she looked at him, like she was a demon and he was her little toy. “changed your mind about staying here all night?”
“move!”
She smiled, unlocking the door and moving back on the passenger’s seat. Kylian say where she was a second ago. Holding on the steering wheel like he was making sure she hadn’t ruined it.
“Just for the record, I’m not driving you home after.” He smoothly unparked the car slowly, looking at the review mirrors.
“Don’t worry, I’d rather walk anyway.” She shot back and leaned her head on the windowsill.
“you know hijacking is a crime.”
“so is stealing.” She reminded him.
It was an awkward drive to say the least. The two chose silence over anything. Not even music. The only thing they could hear were the car and street sounds.
They reached his apartment a few minutes later, Taylor was taken aback by how grand his building looked from outside, tall and modern nothing like hers. they got inside the garage, Kylian turning off the engine and walking out. She watched him while he walked over to the elevator that was probably leading to his flat. He stopped on his tracks when he realized that she wasn’t following him. He walked back to the car, on her side.
Taylor pressed the button to lower the glass. “ill wait here for you.”
He raised his eyebrows “you want me to bring it to you?”
“yes”
He laughed “I’m not wasting my time, going up and down because you are a child. You wanted to come to get your report, so come and get it or you can stay here all night for all I care.”
He walked back to the elevator. She knew that he wasn’t coming back if she didn’t go with him. She tapped her leg on bottom of the car, contemplating her choices. She huffed and opened the door. Following Kylian to the elevator. Taking a quick look around the garage to see two more cars, a Prius and a Mercedes. Ones again, thinking about how this could have been her life.
They didn’t say anything while they went upstairs. She would marvel at how elegant everything looked. From the halls to the walls. To the carpets on the floor, to everything. He unlocked his door. Walking in first and letting her walk behind him. He threw his keys on the table near the door and went to his room immediately.
She looked around at the house. It was very white, she noticed. Very simple and minimalistic, like no one with personality was living there. uncharacteristic for a man like Kylian. Because if there was one thing that this man had was character and personality. Whether she liked that character and personality was a whole different conversation. In front of her were the white windows with the million dollar view, all of Paris at his feet, like he was a king.
She let her hand slide across the wide counter that practically separated the kitchen from the living room. Everything was so clean and tidy, nothing like her house which always looked like a bomb had gone off in the room. She heard him hissing something from inside and reminded herself, why she was here.
She saw a desk by the window, full of papers and walked quickly over there, started looking for her file.
“Where is it?” she asked loud enough for him to hear. He was in his bedroom, taking off his shoes. He looked at his wounded toe from earlier, there was dry blood around it. He wondered with how much pressure he kicked that corner.
He got up when he heard her shuffling through his papers, reminding himself what she could find under them. He looked in one of his bags, taking out the report and running inside.
“Stop going through my stuff, it’s not there.” He said coming up behind her. He had to grab her arm for her to stop, anxious about what she was gonna find. She had almost uncovered the napkin he had kept. Sometimes he wondered while he was still keeping it but now was not the time. He forced her to turn around before she saw it, holding the report in his hands. She looked at it, slightly shocked that he was actually giving it to her. She reached for it but he pulled it back quickly. “gonna give it to Galtier, now?”
“none of your business.”
“You really think I’m unfit for playing?”
“I’m not gonna discuss it with you. You lost that privilege last night.” She tried to reach it for it again, he held it higher. She sighed, her eyes darkening “give it to me!” she jumped.
“therapy? Really?”
She stepped forward to jump again, stepping on his toe. He groaned, stepping back and she looked at his bare feet. Noticing the wound. Her forehead frowned “what the hell happened to your foot?” she bent down to take a better look, then up at him. “You know what? I don’t care.” She snatched the file he was holding, moving away.
“can you be useful and get the alcohol and a bandage? It’s under the sink, in the bathroom.”
She halted. For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to do it but she left the file on a table and went towards the bathroom. He sat on the nearest chair he could find, reaching down apt his feet. Taylor returned with the things he asked her for, leaving them on the table. He got the bandage, bending forward and beginning to wrap his toe.
Because of the Silence he thought she was already gone but suddenly he saw her small fingers, taking the bandage from him, leaving by her side. She was squatting on the ground while she dropped alcohol on a napkin and started cleaning the dry blood.
“was it like that through the whole training?”
It was just a broken nail on his pinky, nothing that would effect his playing unless he didn’t take care of it and he would have earlier if he had realized it was bleeding. He caught her smiling by the slight pain she caused him. Then she started wrapping it slowly, much more carefully than him “you’re dumb for not saying anything.”
“our new coach is a bitch. Didn’t think she’d care. Had me doing an extra- OUCH!” He yelled when she died the bandage tighter only to shut him up but she didn’t look up at him. Her fingers continued, carefully doing what she was doing.
“She’s not a bitch. She’s just tired of being underestimated.” She responded in a whisper, finishing up. “that was stupid.” She added, looking up at him. He liked the view he had of her in between his legs. Enjoyed it even. He could see himself in her eyes “you could have damaged it real bad.”
“You’re gonna scold me now?”
“that’s basically my job Kylian.” She murmured, shaking her head. She got up, leaving the alcohol on the table. “all of it was my job.” Her voice was broken and tired but she continued “I never meant to hurt anybody but I’m not going to apologize for it either.” It was weird having her look down at him instead of the other way around. She had this sadness in her eyes he couldn’t quite explain “Especially not to you, after what you did to me!”
“I didn’t know about the report—” he stood up, automatically making the space between them smaller. Standing ones again taller than her.
“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear it.” She raised her hand almost touching his chest. The worst part was that she believed hum “I don’t care for another round of whatever this is right now. It’s late and I’m tired. We can go at it in the morning.” She stroked her hair back “I did mean it though. You pull something like this again I will make your life a living hell.”
He bent his head at her I don’t like you having so much power over me.”
“I don’t like you getting this close to my personal space anymore.” She moved back, away from his aura. Took her report and headed for the door. Kylian slid his hands in his pockets, tilting his head while he watched her getting nearer the door then—“wait!” he called and she looked at him. He breathed out loudly from his nose and walked to where she was. There was a board next to the door with all of his keys, he snatched the Prius ones “do you actually know how to drive?”
“why do you care?”
“Just ones. try to answer a question like a normal person.”
“yes I do!”
He got nearer and put the keys in her left hand, his skin brushing against hers, his fingers interlocking almost with hers. She didn’t pull from him right away, she took in his touch for a few more seconds while his eyes bore into hers. How did he always manage to get this close to her? How did she always found herself trapped between his and a wall or a door. “Bring it back in one piece if you can.”
She took the keys in between her fingers, juggling with them a little. She smiled, looking at them. “might just crash it on a pole on purpose.”
“That’s why I’m giving you the cheapest one.” He teased. She managed a smile but it was more of an acknowledgment. She looked at his face, reminding herself all the parts she was kissing just 24 hours ago. She wanted to touch it, the skin under his eye, his cheek, the area under his lips. God how did she get herself here? “you can always just stay here” he suggested, a grin drawn on his face like he was reading her thoughts.
“It’s never going to happen again Kylian.” She said coldly “it was a mistake, my mistake.” She whispered “Thanks for the car keys.” She reached for the doorknob and twisted it, opening the door and leaving.
She reached the garage pressing on the key to open the car. It felt weird sitting in on of his cars, she could smell him around her, expected his hand to reach for her any point now while she was driving. Sometimes it was hard to focus on the street. She turned the music on, french songs playing. She couldn’t understand a word but she let them play, she could imagine him singing them, dancing to them. She parked the car outside of her house and went upstairs. Tired to even climb the stairs. She turned the keys on her door, entering her apartment and just as quick she could feel the waves crashing on her chest. The consequences of her choices. The heaviness on her shoulder.
Trish was by her side in seconds when she started crying in silence, Kylian’s keys falling from her hand. Trish guided her on the edge of the bed and helped her sit down, while she sobbed in her hand. When did everything get so tangled up? She cried on her friend’s shoulder. Held on to her tightly. She wasn’t sure why she was crying. It was the pressure of not showing emotion all day, the realization that whatever was going on with Kylian would come back to bite her. Losing Neymar. Everyone else’s trust as well. One day and she’d be alone again, with her best friend and her family on another country.
Trish held her head on her hands, searching in her eyes. She didn’t say anything because she knew there was nothing to say.
“I fucked up.” She mumbled, sniffing back her tears. “I fucked up big time.”
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She reached for it, checking the messages. Trish looked at the screen as well. “what is this?”
“Tickets for the Qatar tour.” She explained, wiping her nose with the back of her hand “because going on a tour across the world with 20 people that hate me and Kylian is exactly what I need.”
“I can go for you.” She smiled. Taylor tilted her head, giving her a serious look. Trish laughed, pulling her friend closer. “You’ll be fine. Promise.” She held her pinky out and Taylor curled her own pinky around it.
“swear” she whispered. Luna jumped up on the bed too, cuddling on her legs and meowing for food.
“She’s lying I just fed her.”
BAR – NIGHT
Verratti checked his phone, as it buzzed on the table. He checked his messages, reading about the tickets that had just been sent to everyone. He shook his head. “now we have to go on the trip with her.” He mumbled.
Across from him sat Ann, famous for her gossip talents and bringing havoc in the football world. She was twisting her straw on her cocktail. “she’s coming to Qatar with you?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you hear? She’s a full on coach. We’re stuck with her apparently.”
“it’s a nice story though. Woman undercover in a man’s world. It has a nice ring to it. I might write it. You think you can get her to do an interview for me?”
“I’ll give you tickets in one of the conferences after we come back”
“Oh that would be amazing, you’re an angel.”
He looked at her glass, scratching on it with his finger “I think what’s worse is that this undercover woman knew exactly what she was talking about.” He raised his glass taking a full ship “gonna have to start getting used to her I guess”
Ann smiled, a very mischievous smile while she sipped from her straw.
KYLIAN’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
When his phone buzzed he was laying on the bed, he checked his screen quickly. He hated travelling as much for such a short time. He threw his phone on the side and closed his eyes. Thinking about her. He tried stopping his mind from going there but he was failing, always picturing her smile or her frown or just her eyes. He reached for his phone again and went on her website. He stayed awake rereading everything that she had written about him. In truth despite the anger that he felt for all the lies, some sort of part of him had calmed with the truth. He knew exactly who she was, just like he wanted to from the beginning. He was only missing a few parts that he knew how to complete.
He went on his contact, search for the right name and let it ring. He smiled when the person on the other line picked up.
“Bellingham, it’s me bro. Are you still in Paris?”
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Ok soooo let's count down the things we have to wait for. Taylor getting along with the boys again, tension between her and ky, Qatar trip omg i wonder what will happen there and wait a damn second that Ann girl looks annoying. How long can these two keep their heated night a secret? 👀👀👀 As Always that you for reading and commenting. This chapter is not much, more like comedic relief to show their dynamic from now on. Lost of yelling, lots of screaming. Gotta love it though. *Coughs* angst soon *coughs* i love you xxxx
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izicodes · 2 months ago
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After taking a "blog break," I’m excited to start sharing some of the projects I’ve been working on during my time away! One of the highlights is a custom widget I created for Notion—a photocard featuring my favorite band, PLAVE. This widget is perfect for fellow PLAVE fans (Plli), allowing them to display a "fanmade" photocard of their favorite band members right on their Notion pages.
I began this project not only to celebrate my love for PLAVE but also to dive deeper into the world of Notion widgets and explore what’s possible.
Let’s dive into the details of how I built it and the creative process behind it!
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I started this project back in May, right after I discovered PLAVE in April! Around that time, I started following a 'photocard editor' on Twitter who creates these fantastic 'unofficial' collectible photocards of PLAVE. I fell in love with her edits immediately. I was also using Notion extensively to keep my Korean studies organized, so I thought, why not combine my passion for Korean learning with my love for PLAVE?
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I wanted to create a public widget that other PLAVE fans could easily add into their own Notion pages. To be respectful and ensure proper credit, I reached out to the editor, Jane, to ask if I could use her edits in my widget. I explained my project idea and shared some Figma wireframes to show how the widget would look and function. Jane was excited about the concept and gave me her blessing to move forward. I didn’t start any programming until I had her approval!
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For this project, I needed to create two main components: the widget itself and a webpage with information and installation instructions. Surprisingly, the info and installation page turned out to be more challenging than developing the widget! I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I wanted to ensure the page was user-friendly, responsive, and easy to navigate. It was tougher than I wished for!
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As for the widget, it was relatively straightforward to develop and only took me about two days. However, I did face some issues with broken links that I still need to fix, and I’m not quite sure why they’re not working. Usually, I’m a ReactJS enthusiast, but since this was a smaller project, I decided to use my "beginner combo": HTML, CSS (including SCSS), and JavaScript. I quickly realized how accustomed I’ve become to ReactJS because I kept writing code that didn’t work in Vanilla JavaScript—talk about a wake-up call!
In the end, I completed the project to a point where it was ready to present to both the PLLIs (PLAVE fans) and Jane. I found myself eagerly awaiting Jane’s feedback because her artwork was integral to the project. If she wasn’t happy with the outcome, I would have felt the same. Thankfully, she loved it! I officially posted the widget on Twitter/X, and Jane shared it as well. Although most of the users were Korean, reading their translated positive comments made me genuinely happy.
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Who knows? Maybe in the future, I’ll work on another PLAVE-themed project. I really enjoyed creating this one!
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Feel free to check out the project and try installing the widget on your Notion page:
The official tweet about the project
The installation page
The widget in template Notion page
fyi, it still needs work, I will get to it eventually~~~!
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toxicbrothel · 10 months ago
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Beefro👌🥩💜
POV
waitress x non-canon, chubby nwJoel ty @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the prompt 💕 and @beefrobeefcal for the gif & making the world go round
Working at Golden Corral, you’ve noticed the regulars and sometimes made polite conversation. Hypothetically, there’s a guy, Joel, who’s not bad looking.  He’s always worn PJs and smelled like weed, which made him less intimidating, despite his impressive physique and panty-dropping scruff. He’s been coming in with his brother every Sunday for a long time, and until recently, Joel was always in great shape – apparently a huge gym rat. A couple months ago, he had to have knee surgery, which really sidelined his work-outs. Shortly after that, you began to notice him gaining weight. He didn't adjust his portions at all to account for his lack of burning calories. Weight gain wasn’t uncommon to see at your restaurant, but you’d never seen someone round out so quickly. 
One night, Joel was going back for thirds. He was standing at the buffet line with his t-shirt stretched across his belly, and the garlic bread pan was empty. He looked disappointed, so you offered, “I can grab more.”
“Hell yeah,” he replied. "Attagirl." Your face got all hot.
“I’ll bring them to your table,” you offered. 
You had to deal with something on your way to the kitchen, and it took you twenty minutes to return with the bread. You began to approach his booth, then noticed he was sitting back with his PJ waistband below his belly. His happy trail was exposed, and he had his hand under his t-shirt, further stretching the fabric as he rubbed his belly. You thought you should turn around and give him some privacy, but it was too late, he must have felt you staring. His eyes lit up at the sight of you with a plate stacked high with garlic bread. With some effort, he managed to sit up straight and fixed his shirt, but not in an embarrassed way at all. You approached and apologized, “Sorry I didn’t get them out in time.” 
“What are you sorry for? I’m still right here, sugar.” 
His brother laughed at him. “You serious, man?” 
“Why not,” Joel replied. You retreated to your duties, wiping tables down, but you occasionally glanced over as he packed in every piece of that bread. By the time the plate was empty, he was holding his belly with two hands. When it was time to leave, he was slow to get out of the booth and held onto the table for leverage. He kept one hand on his belly as he waddled. They said goodnight to you on their way to pay, but you could still hear them in line as you cleaned the buffet pans. 
“I’m tellin’ ya, man,” his brother said. “Put on some real fuckin’ clothes, and you’ll see.” 
“These are real clothes, Tommy,” Joel scoffed. 
“You know what I mean,” Tommy said. “You gotta slow down, man. It ain’t healthy. A few more pounds and you may never get back to the gym.” 
Joel dismissed him with a, “Nah. I’ll be liftin’ heavy again in no time.” 
“I bet ya couldn’t fit into my clothes now if ya tried,” his brother taunted.
“Sure I can, man. You’re the one with that big, barrel chest.” 
You think you can fit into my clothes? Let’s put money on it. We’ll go trade right now and wear’em home.” The prospect of this made your chest flutter and you tingled between the legs. 
Joel replied, “I don’t need money, man. but when they do fit, you gotta smoke a bowl with me.” 
“Deal,” 
They went to the bathroom, and you tried not to stare as they came out. This plaid snap-button shirt was just absurd on Joel. As they walked by, you heard Tommy laugh, “You could just admit they don’t fit.” Every button was hanging on for dear life. The bottom two didn’t even button.  The jeans were unbuttoned, too. And, most striking of all, Joel was clearly sucking it in, and it looked like he was struggling. You tried to stop staring but couldn’t. The display of sheer indulgence was making  you throb. 
Eventually, Joel had to breathe, and when he exhaled, his belly expanded so far that every last button popped open, and Joel moaned in relief. 
“Told ya, man,” Tommy laughed next to him. “Look at this gut.” He jiggled Joel’s belly. “I’ll help ya get back in shape, brother.” 
Joel groaned and held his pot belly with both hands as Tommy paid. Joel looked down and lifted it up, let it drop, and winced. Tommy had to stop at the door and wait for Joel to catch up. You kinda hoped Joel wouldn’t get in shape right away. But he was always hot.
----
TY for reading!
practically written by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog with a BIG thot. 💕. ILY BEEFRO!!! Ty for the gif! 💕
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reneethekraken · 2 years ago
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What a Doll
Being an office rep at the Revision of Hero Society comes with costs, talking to everyone and trying to not make an enemy out of the wrong ones. Somehow this means becoming business partners/ Frenemies/Pining lovers with Backugou and Kirishima. Though, Gangsters, they know everything about their community and these people are still people, and it's your job to help them. Being so young and running for office means being bullied by the older members of the Pro Hero society and eventually being pushed to the company, laying her off and leaving her alone with her thoughts. Shutting everyone out for weeks before finally leaving to party with Mina for a bit and when she sees Bakugou in the bar she dashes leaving her purse and keys on the bar counter. And of course, seeing her he follows her taking her keys with him.
WARNINGS: Angst, emotional, Bakugou doesn't realize how mean he is because Kirishima likes it, Reader is soft asf, Bakugou is definitely still an asshole. Blank blogs and ageless blogs DNI
PAIRING: Bakugou x reader, suggestive kiribaku x reader
WORD COUNT: 1.5k 
A/n: constructive criticism is always appreciated
This is ridiculous. I couldn't think of a sillier way to go home than this one. Walking slower than my thoughts so I can keep up with myself and not throw my eyes over my left shoulder. My feet are sore from the jacked up heels, my blouse is too wet from my urgency to have a good time and my pants are too thin as the wind blows around me on this street. All while my car slowly rides to the left of me.
He's mocking me, he has to be
He mocked my choices trying to tell me that he's already won. I don't know what to say because the thought of speaking to him brings tears to my eyes and my throat gets so tight I want to die.
I’ll never be prepared.
I'll never be able to stand up to them. Even on the days, everyone thinks I have them right where I want them, a board full of pieces that I've already accounted for. They'll never understand that the two of them are the ones who drew up the board. It's greedy, to have someone who shares similar ideas as me yet degrades my every move
“That was a selfish decision. You would have done better writing up your damn think pieces and putting them in a burn book instead of slathering your name all over an unfinished piece that makes you look like a lousy piece of uptown nobility. I don't live here but you all are making a ruckus and it makes me feel bad that I get to sit in my highrise and even look at ya.”
“If I was on the board you would have been put out the commission a long time ago, fixing my city yet telling me how’re gonna take my job, drink my coffee, and fuck my wife all before noon.” 
That's a sick way to live, miss board member, good plan. Even better spokesperson. The Daughter of mass Mutiny comes from the 3rd and last gang in the U.S. and yet she sits here in the Commissioner's office thinkin’ she's better than me. That title doesn't negate that if I wanted you and your bright ideas I'd take I’d still side with the very office that's shooting down every punch you make. And when you're beaten down thinking there's nothing else you could do, I’d give you my hand and let you realize there's nothing ever you'd be able to do in my city without my okay.
“You're lucky he sees something in you otherwise we wouldn't be friends, Doll.” 
Always had that same condescending tone as he called me about whatever decision I publicly made. Most of them were good ones; he was literally just a hater. 
“Did good out there today Doll, real good. Eiji and I are real proud of the progress ya making in sectors 7-9 keep that up and maybe I won’t have to berate ya every other day. Don't get too comfortable though Yakato is speaking wi-”
On the rare days I did get a good call he always managed to put his stamp on it. And sometimes even when he talked down on me I sat there and took it with wet panties and bated breath ready to hear him be soft with me again right before he stamped it.
Friends?!? Friends, I wouldn't even bat an eye if he choked tomorrow! In fact, I would be the first in line!  Until he knew exactly what it felt like to have his entire life's work spit on and shredded because of it being work of public relations community service logs. He's greedy and he won’t have me, because that's all it’ll take for him to win. Presenting me to his partner like a Christmas present. Popping champagne while I sit there naked and waiting for orders like all the other sick fucks that follow behind them as they need them.
I don't need them. But I do need him to get the hell out of my car. Maybe that's why I put my pride aside, I tried not to let my tears show and my anger release through my words.
Teeth clenching and eyes lowered into the passenger window, “What do you want Bakugou, why the hell are you following me late at night? You know stalking is a crime, correct?”
“It is if there's proof and your life is endangered. It could be from someone else looking to have a lucky night with a lady walking on the side of the road at 2 am looking like a call girl.” He smiled, put the car in park, and opened his door slowly. Standing over the side of the vehicle like he wanted more, needed it. “Nobodies seen ya in 3 weeks. We all thought that Having to step down from the board made ya yoke. I was hoping it had not.” He said the last part softer but that boyish grin never left.
“ It’s temporary.”
“What?”
“My decision to step down from the board is temporary and if it runs till November I’ll resign and apply again.” I was closer now to the passenger side. I wanted to show him that he didn't own me and that he didn't scare me.
“Always the fighter. Did you not have time to come see us before ya left?”
“I came because Mina said I could have a good time, I left because I was ready to go.” He sucked his teeth hearing my quick retort.
“You're hurting my feelings, thought we were friends?” He slowly rounded the car, stopping in front of the hood to play with the radiator grill.
“YOU and Kirishima are not my friends, were business partners who come together to correct hero society on blue moons-
“Then I’d say we've had more blue moons than the smurfs”
“I'm trying to be serious and professional and you're making it hard for me.”He was in front of me now and I couldn't help but look past his neck. I wasn't strong. I let the media get the best of me and the hero community. I let Bakugou and Kirishima’s backhanded compliments and weird pinning throw me off my game and accept my resignation, no temporary relief of position. He was too close, his collared button down hiding the swirly black ink of his gang insignia. The ring holder chain held a ring with opal on it. I wondered what my ring would look like next to Kirishima's
 “I don't need you rubbing my failures- I lost and because of me the city and its people will be without someone advocating for them, all of them. Someone who cares about them. WHO WANT THE BEST FOR EVERYONE EVEN IF IT MEANS DISMANTLING THE VERY SAME SYSTEM THAT KEEPS THEM SAFE BECAUSE IT ALSO KEEPS OTHERS IN SITUATIONS THAT LEAVE THEM WITHOUT.
The Tears fell and I was finally looking at him. He wasn't smiling anymore. I pushed his chest, again and again, and again. “And you were nowhere to be found, NEITHER OF YOU AND I
 CALLED AND PLEADED AND CALLED AGAIN AND MY SO-CALLED FRIENDS WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.”
He grabbed my arms and pinned them to my side as I cried, into his shirt, into his skin, holding onto the very fabric that held the man that I swear I hated “I know and I’m sorry. Some things were more important at that moment–”
With a croaky voice and a tighter grip, I asked what I always wanted, always needed, needed to know from him.“Am I not enough? Am I not important enough to come to the rescue? Are my problems not satisfactory on your list of important shit that needs to be tended to. What about my feelings?” He hugged me tight and sighed into my hair. “ You won ya know.”
“I didn't wanna win, I wanted to make you work hard, I promise I just wanted to prepare you for what was out there. If I coulda I woulda been on the first flight back to help but I couldn't and were sorry, Doll. Eiji is waiting for us at the house. You want me to drop you home or do you want to stay the night at ours because I swear–”
“I wanna see him too, I’m tired of this runaround. Are we friends, are we enemies, our business partners on the occasion when both sides of the coin retire us to some janky place to drink scotch? Are we pining after each other? I Don't know what we are or how we're gonna make,” I point to the space in between us, “work but I’d like to see where it goes just lessen up all that damn bark. I’m sensitive.”
He pecked the top of my head and opened the passenger door for me. Jogging over to the other side. He threw on some random radio station and put the car in drive.
 “Okay.” 
Please please reblog if you like it so I can get feedback, and find things others like to read so I produce more content! 🥰
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dearestsilhouette · 2 months ago
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Hey hey! [Intro post number. I don’t even know at this point lmao]
Hihi! The name’s uh. many things, but I mostly go by Silhouette, Sol, Stardust(ed) and River! You can see more things (which includes pronouns, other names / nicknames, honorifics and more) here if you want. Not required, but it’d be appreciated if you at least checked it out!
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I do NOT accept donation / advertisement asks. I am very, very much afraid of answering an ask and it being scam. Now, I’ll never straight up block you for sending asks unless you’re doing it repetitively and purposefully, I’ll just remove the ask and leave it be, but just keep this in mind.
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To get it over with quick, here’s a DNI, Thin Ice and BYI list.
DNI: - If you’re on any basic DNI list - If your blog is 18+, NSFW / NSFT, minors DNI, etc - If your blog is centered around any kind of discourse - If you enforce or heavily pressure your religion onto others - If you actively support something or someone that is inherently wrong - If you support AI art - If I blocked you (I blocked you for a reason. <3) [Note that this may change overtime, and that I do NOT support Blushcrunch (Creators of Dandy’s World) or Groink (Creator of AIB) for their actions. I simply like what they have created and interact with content made by other fans.]
THIN ICE: - If you ship mirrormystery / Rodger x Glisten (I personally hc them as siblings and dislike this ship heavily. I don’t care if you do ship it, just don’t bring it up around me, please.) - If you ship host x contestant (It generally makes me uncomfy for some reason I can’t describe well. I don’t mind if you ship anything of the sort as long as it ain’t problematic, just don’t bring it up to me pls.) [This may be updated in the future. This is all I have for now.]
BYI: - I am a minor! This is extremely important. Don’t be weird or you’re getting blocked, especially if you’re an adult. - I most likely have anger / emotional issues and I can get extremely emotional and pissed off pretty quick. I’m sorry if I cause anything bad to happen because my emotions are extremely chaotic and basically control how I act n stuff. - I am a huuuge mess, and a ping pong ball is constantly bouncing around in my brain - I probably have adhd, more specifically hyperactive impulsive adhd. I am not diagnosed (though I really want to get diagnosed), but I have done a decent amount of research to assume this, so please keep that in mind. - Tone tags are essentially my life support. Please use them or some other indicator for tone, since I can’t understand it unless it’s very blatantly being shoved in my face. - Anything I hyperfixate on something, you’re 100% going to notice by my reblogs. I will flood your page lol - I will like and mass reblog posts a lot!! If you don’t like this, please let me know. - At times, I will randomly condense my speech. If you can’t understand, I’ll fix that! - I refer to characters I really like or relate to a lot as “me”, especially Pitchfork from AIB. If you ever have a problem with this, PLEASE let me know. I myself am not a fictionkin, fictive or anything of the sort, so if this ever becomes a problem to you I’ll change it asap. - I can’t read things right sometimes. Be patient with me I’ll get it eventually lmao
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I use my own personal tags when making posts every once in a while! These tags will be listed below.
-.River’s shenanigans (Kind of a shitposting tag. Basically just dumb or silly things I post.) - River’s art (My art tag! NOT TO BE USED BY AI.) - River’s ask responses (My responses to things I get in my inbox!) - River’s thoughts (Kind of a vent tag atp, originally and sometimes used as a marker to indicate that I’m posting about things on my mind. Not used often.) - River’s writing (My writing! Read TWs on posts if needed.)
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Fandoms, interests and hyperfixations! I’m in quite a few communities in the moment. Some of these are:
-.Object shows (more specifically AIB) - Dandy’s World - Just Shapes n Beats - The Pink Corruption (I consider them two different things. If you don’t like this, don’t fight me over it; just DNI and move on, please.) - Pikuniku (Is there even a Pikuniku fandom-?) - Bugbo - Sprunki - Pressure - Blocktales - The Robloxia: Until Dawn
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Lastly, here’s a few funky lil userboxes. Thank you for reading! [Credits to the userboxes in order: 1 (me!), 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]
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Preferably like / interact with this post if you’ve read it, but I’m not forcin ya.
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dailydoofypokemon · 6 months ago
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HOENN DONE!
Wowee zowee, I’ve been done with Hoenn for a while now and am about 20 into Sinnoh, but oh man, I think more people are finding the lil blog here as Hoenn was going by, I got to 100 followers and am averaging about 10 notes a day. Which I know that’s not much, but it’s so much more activity than I’ve had on my main blog. I’m pretty sure it’s because of the consistency? But that’s still rad.
Special thanks to @everysinglepheel and @drizzileiscool for being such regulars! I know I don’t respond, but y’all’s tags keep me going. I know Drizzile, you’re waiting for the gen after this one, and that’s cool! I appreciate you sticking around like you have, so thank you so much! Same goes for Pheel! Thank you for always checking out my art!
Also a little extra thanks to @somekindabard who I love very very much and is my partner in crime and life and the best and helps me finish off all the Pokémon probs gosh, has it been since the beginning of Hoenn? Either way, love yoooooou
After Hoenn, I also think I’m going to drop off the numbering for the days. I know it’s not a lot, but I keep losing track over where I’m at, and I’m almost positive I’m off by like five or ten at this point, so it’s just a little change to the descriptions, but it’s enough that I gotta do something about it and it would help me queueing everything up ‘cause I keep losing which number i was last on //OTL
I also have posters for each gen I’ve completed so far, along with one that just has the starters! Once I get my shop properly fixed, I’ll put them online if anyone is interested. They’re 11x17, and I’m honestly really happy with how they turned out because they’re just so goofy looking, and it’s great seeing everything I’ve done so far combined into one. I want to make prints of each of the these guys in a fun collectible way eventually (a la trading cards maybe? Or something in the realm of a pack of cards or something) because there’s just some thing really satisfying to the idea of that, and may be a better solution for my table situation when I’m vending, lol. I’ll have a post on that soon so if y’all are interested!
To answer a question that came up early in Hoenn: Yes I do plan on doing every version of every Pokemon eventually! My plan is to finish all the current Pokédex, then get to work on the Mega Evolutions, then regional versions, then potentially spend a month just doing the Unown alphabet to hopefully turn into a silly font. It’ll be a while until I get there, but maybe I’ll do some of the Unown alphabet over the course of a few days and upload those as a set when I get the spoons for that. So I won’t just stop at Paldea! (Or whatever gen Pokemon will be by the time I get to Paldea, lol)
Lastly, I was curious if you guys wanted me to answer more things on here? I read everything that is sent my way, but I don’t respond because I know some people do prefer to have blogs that are themed blogs to remain consistent and not see much else. If I did interact more, I would always tag these regular posts with ‘#not pokemon’ so if you block posts then you shouldn’t see them!
Anyway, thank you so much all those who’ve been following me for a while and all those who found my blog in Hoenn! Tomorrow starts the next region: Starly! …because I also already did the starters! :D
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genxnarumi · 14 days ago
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random ramble for myself here, no one reads this blog and that makes it even easier lolllll. this is kinda for myself to keep track of progress.
i had been in a 5 year long steady relationship; we started online and long distance and eventually he moved here to be with me. we moved in together, almost everything was good, until he blindsided me in june and wanted to break up. whatever, five years down the drain but i quickly accepted it (AuDHD makes it super easy to compartmentalise and distance myself) and focused on myself. however; we had a house and life together, and we are in the midst of a housing crisis that’s affecting mainly younger people. it was incredibly exhausting for both of us to be forced to live together while house hunting.
finally, i found a house about a month and a half ago. i was skeptical on paper but viewed it and it was absolutely perfect. well, it could be bigger, but i fell in love right away. it took a while for them to verify my documents and finally i got the acceptance in early october. i picked up the keys on the fifteenth.
due to my full time job and it being an hour and a half of a trip away from where i live and work now, it’s been slow… but we have made progress, and it’s looking like i can fully go over either this weekend or sometime next week.
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it was entirely empty at first, no flooring, nothing. it has a gigantic garden for the size of the house (the house fits in it like 2-3 times). the walls had to be repainted due to the previous tenant being a smoker. and there are some small repairs that need to be done. but…
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it’s beginning to look like a home. the bedroom flooring is now setting, finally, and i’ll get a plastic cover to finish painting the wall. then it’s just a matter of putting the rest of the flooring in, moving stuff and lastly picking up the cats and settling in.
i’m moving back into my old area — i moved further midwest to accommodate my partners wishes — closer to my friends, whom all expressed they wished for me to return which was such a mind boggling experience and idk why.
because of a strained relationship with my mom, i didn’t bother telling them until this week. i wanted to fix my own shit, and show them that i’m capable of getting my shit together on my own without their help and belittling. i really know next to nothing about fixing up houses and DIY-ing but with the help of my friend i have learned so much and its so rewarding to see it all come together.
i still have so many plans, some i have to wait for. the yard needs fencing. i need to get some shelf planks to create a small parkour for the cats. curtains need to be put up and the lights need to be properly fixed. but it’s a home and it’s my home and i couldn’t be more excited, even with how exhausted i am from going back and forth b every day on top of a senior role at my job.
the main issue has been i have no car at the moment and god it’s ass to have to plan everything around friends who do have cars. 😭
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s-sunnydays · 1 year ago
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things left unsaid in artist’s depiction
i dont know if anyone checks this blog since i havent posted, but i guess i could share the things i never got to share since i discontinued artist’s depiction!
also, warning: there are trigger warnings!
iris was the one who reloaded the SAVE file and had gone insane since the mc had died in the fire. she was the one who also caused the accident, but she didn’t mean to; it was supposed to keep the mc from leaving since the machine was really close to being fixed and such.
faye had died at around six to nine years old because she’d gotten too sick and the mc couldn’t afford to enough money to keep her alive or to buy her any sort of medicine.
victor and sierra did run away because they were chased by debtors and all of that since they always messed with the wrong people in their lives. though, they don’t care about that as much, they didn’t want the others to get involved. i didn’t think much about how they died, but i would say that they ended up dying far away and no one knew since the mc couldn’t contact them – lost all contact with them.
sans never liked iris and iris never liked sans, they both just liked the idea of being in a relationship. and, sans gradually learns that iris liked mc the most – the best. even if she treated them horribly
there weren’t any sort of coherent thoughts about how the ending would go, but i assumed that there would be a polyamorous relationship with the mc and the skelebros aus where they could visit the original timeline any time they wanted since the machine and the tear was fixed.
iris’ feelings were never reciprocated
iris was mc’s childhood friend, and learned everything from them – how their life worked, how they had three siblings (never knew about oliver).
the mother ended up dying without oliver knowing – she died from overdosing on medication.
oliver vaguely remembers faye, but doesn’t know about the rest of the siblings. mc never told him until later, where he finds a picture of the other three – he asks why he looks related to victor and sierra and why faye looks so similar to the mc
the mc’s past is eventually revealed by iris or someone else, but other than that, it was basically mutual agreement to tell
the reason why oliver was taken away in the first timeskip was because the mistreatment that the mc had received ended up putting them past their breaking point. and then they started acting like a terrible brother, so they had to let him go – they had to take him to some other place; somewhere where he would be safe.
i have the next chapter, though it is unfinished.
WORK IS TIRING.
You suppose that since Iris pays you to work for her, you’ve been going to your job a lot less — within schedule, at least. Not many days are assigned to you.
“Hey, [Name],” Iris coos from her spot in front of you, sitting at the counter. “Do you wanna go shopping with me and the boys? I’m sure you’ll need something there. It’d the mall, after all! Who wouldn’t want to, like, you know — go shopping with me? I’ll pay for whatever you want.” She sings like a witch—or a siren, depending on the person—and you make a face inwardly.
At first, you would’ve said no. Just a simple no and everything would’ve been fine.
You suppose that no is also not in your vocabulary most of the time.
”…Let me ask my brother,” you mutter in response, pulling out your phone begrudgingly. You send him a message, waiting for his response.
If he says yes, you can only hope that the others don’t start causing problems with him around. You don’t mind the hate, the stares, the faces — just as long he can’t see them; hear them; you’re okay with it. As long as he can’t witness it, it’s fine. That’s all that mattered to you.
——
“Okay~”
Iris looks excited for some reason, but you don’t question it entirely.
You stare at the group of skeletons with a squint of your eyes, wondering where more came from. You should’ve known that the trip to the mall was basically restocking for the rest of the alternates stuck here — though you’re not sure if any of them really need anything. They seem to be more well off than you.
“Malls’re so big!” Your brother whispers to you, stunned by the size of the shopping mall you’re in. You have to agree. “What kind’a stores do they have in here?”
You have to agree with him.
To say that malls are huge is an understatement, you think they’re bigger than most mansions you’ve seen. Then again, you probably just don’t know what malls are like because your mother always told you that they were too expensive and a scam. You always did like sticking to every word she said to you, but that’s in the past. You could care less nowadays.
”I dunno,” you answer honestly. Your eyes scan your surroundings, squinting them when you realize just how large the building is. “Never gone to ‘em either, bro.”
“You haven’t taken your brother to the mall before?” Iris asks loudly, eyes wide with surprise. She glances between you and your brother curiously, obviously shocked — but you don’t even know how she heard you two whispering. It’s not like the others care enough to try and overhear, so why was she trying to be nosy?
Some of the skeletons turn to you, some glance at you, and the rest ignores you (out of pity, you don’t know).
”No,” your brother answers, confused. “We only go to the small ones ‘cause [Name] doesn’t like big stores.”
Well now.
Iris turns to you, frowning at you — you have to say, you don’t know why she’s looking at you like that because it’s not her business — and tells you, “You haven’t taken sweet little Oliver to a mall, [Name]? Shame on you! Malls are great, they have everything you’d need!”
You don’t know how to tell her off without calling her a spoiled brat.
”He already said why I don’t take him to big stores,” you point out, somewhat embarrassed that she had to call you out in front of everyone. “And, uh, malls are expensive… and, y’know, big — he’d get lost.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust your—“
You give her a look of irritation, and for once, the skeletons with you don’t seem too upset about it. Probably because they understand your situation or probably just—the conversation isn’t necessary.
“Are we done?” You don’t care if you interrupt her or get on Sans’ nerves because of it. “If we’re done, I can take Oliver shopping then. See you later, just call me when y—“
And Iris just loves thinking it’s her turn for everything. “We can hang out like old times! You know, when we were in high school together and stuff. Plus,” she shoots you a wink, “we have a lot to catch up on — we haven’t been, like, talking to each other at all! Come on, Sans, let’s go.” You don’t say anything when you see the flickering of his pinpricks or the not-so-subtle glances to your brother from the girl.
You stare at her, narrowing your eyes.
”It can’t be that bad,” your brother tries to soothe your vexation. “‘S okay! Maybe Red ‘n Edge can come with!”
Iris’ face twitches.
Sans’ smile falters. “since when were you buddies with ‘em, kid?”
Red grins widely, almost as if taunting the poor guy. “what’s wrong with bein’ friends wit’ a guy like me? i can come with, i got nothin’ to do anyways… maybe the, uh, boss can come with if he oh so wishes.”
“CAN IT, S—RED,” Edge catches himself and corrects himself. He ignores the looks given and clears his throat. “I SHALL GIFT THE HUMANS WITH MY PRESENCE, SINCE THEY ARE SO DESPERATE TO HANG OUT WITH ME. AND, I AM CURIOUS TO SEE WHAT SORT OF… STORES ARE IN THIS SPECIFIC MALL!”
Your brother shoots you a smile.
You squint your eyes.
Rus puts a hand on your shoulder and nudges Mutt. “‘ey, maybe we can finally get that thing wallet owed me. dunno what it is, but it’s gotta be somethin’.”
“…whatever you say, rus,” Mutt mutters and shrugs his shoulders compliantly. He looks like he just wants to sleep, and you can’t say you blame him. It’s not like you want to be here either, it was obvious that most of the monsters here didn’t want to be here either. You’re sure there’s some other meaning behind it.
”I don’t owe you anything, Rus.”
”sure thing, wallet.”
”They’re not your wallet!”
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