#i’m not even kidding there’s no fucking way

[nezuscribe]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[seitmai]

“On my polaroid,” Bob explained. “To have while I’m gone.” You smiled softly.  “Yeah,” you agreed. “That’s okay.” His expression perked up. He gave you a soft kiss.  “Thank you, sweetheart,” Bob drawled, his accent sweet.

Urgh this was just such a soft and trusting conversation 🥰

“What do you want me to do, sir?” You asked. You wanted Bob to take charge of this. Not just because the pictures were for him, but because you were nervous. You were ovulating. You had been casually trying with Bob. The two of you had stopped using condoms, but you had started tracking your cycle. You were ready. You hadn’t told Bob. He wanted kids too, you had stopped using protection on purpose, but you were nervous about it. 

No risk no fun as they say 🤭

“Smile for me, honey,” Bob called. The absurdity of the context pulled a giggle from you and the camera flashed again. He looked down at you thoughtfully, planning out his next masterpiece. He smirked when his idea came. 

Oh he's having the time of his life 😌

“That’s my good girl,” Bob cooed as you sucked on his finger. The camera flashed again. He slowly drew his hand away from your mouth. He slid his hand to rest on your throat. The pressure was firm, but not restricting. The camera flashed again. His hands kept moving down to your breasts, squeezing them in a way that would leave bruises in the morning as the camera flashed once more. 

There is something so hot about knowing there are some lustful bruises in places where no one gets to see them 😮‍💨

“I know, baby,” Bob cooed in understanding. “I promise that I’ll give you everything you want, but you have to be patient.” Something in his tone was different. He knew what you really wanted from him. He knew you wanted him to make you a mother.  

He knows 😮‍💨

“Fuck! Bobby!” You cried out in pleasure. The camera flashed. Your walls pulsated around Bob’s fingers and your legs shook. You arched your back away from the mattress. The camera flashed. You opened your eyes to see Bob’s adoring stare as he flashed the camera once more on your sweaty, fucked out face. 

🥵🥵🥵

“I know, baby,” he cooed. “Me too.” You moaned softly. Bob had gotten himself in position to take another picture. He had his thick cock in his hand, lined up perfectly with your wet slit. He held the camera in his other hand. His eyes flicked up to yours. “Ready?” He asked. You nodded quickly. Bob pushed his cock into you. The camera flashed several times—some photos on your face or your body, and a few at the spot where you were connected. 

I just live checking in even in auch a moment of lust and passion, so hot 🤤

You came without warning, but kept your moans in. You weren’t supposed to come without asking. Bob kept fucking into you and you thought you’d gotten away with it when you came again. You were doing your best to keep your breathing even and not pass out as you recovered. Then Bob switched arms and pulled your other leg around his hip as well. You knew that you were going to squirt this time. 

Oh he knows hat he is doing 🥵

“You’re so pretty when you come, baby girl,” Bob drawled. His accent was thicker when he used the low tone that he would pull during sex. He knew how much it drove you crazy. “How many times was that? Be honest, I know you came at least once without telling me.” 

Not the thick accent 😮‍💨

“All you had to do was ask, baby,” Bob said with a smile. He began fucking you again, faster this time. If you wanted his cum he was going to give it to you. You clawed at his back and he left hickies over your chest and neck. Bob reached down between your bodies to rub circles over your clit. You moaned loudly. 

I'm melting 🫠

“I’m not done, sweetheart. If we want you to get pregnant I should probably give you more than one load.” You whimpered at the thought alone. Bob could already feel himself getting hard again. He rubbed your clit slowly, making you clench and flex around him. It was just what he needed to make him rock hard again. You moaned at the feeling of him hardening inside you. 

Already a dad that goes the extra mile 🤭

“Want to see?” Bob asked. You nodded as you scooted over to his side. The two of you looked through the photos, Bob complimenting something about you in each one. When you got to the photo you had taken of him you grinned widely. 

🥰🥰🥰

“Could you write me notes on them? Like you do with my lunches?” Bob asked shyly. You grinned at him, leaning to kiss him gleefully. You pulled away with a smile still on your face. He always told you how much he loved the notes you put in his lunch everyday. 

Urgh that is just the cutest 🥹🥰 and the perfect balance after such filth 🤭

flashes

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, nude photos, fingering, m receiving oral, breeding, p in v, dacryphilia, squirting, minor degradation, minor praise, creampie,

summary: you buy a special set of lingerie when you know you're ovulating and Bob asks if he can take pictures of you while you fuck.

word count: 3.2k

“Can I take pictures of you?” 

Bob’s question surprised you. You had sent him nudes before, and it wasn’t like he had never seen photos of you, but he had never taken any himself. You did look good. His jaw had literally dropped when he saw you. You bought a special lingerie set to wear that night. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was Bob’s favorite shade of blue and it was made of a thin mesh material that left little to the imagination.

“You want to take pictures of me?” You questioned. 

“On my polaroid,” Bob explained. “To have while I’m gone.” You smiled softly. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “That’s okay.” His expression perked up. He gave you a soft kiss. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Bob drawled, his accent sweet. He scrambled from his place on the edge of the bed. You had instructed him to wait there while you made your grand entrance from the bathroom after changing into your lingerie set. He fished his polaroid camera out of its place in the closet and loaded it up with a new set of film.

“What do you want me to do, sir?” You asked. You wanted Bob to take charge of this. Not just because the pictures were for him, but because you were nervous. You were ovulating. You had been casually trying with Bob. The two of you had stopped using condoms, but you had started tracking your cycle. You were ready. You hadn’t told Bob. He wanted kids too, you had stopped using protection on purpose, but you were nervous about it. 

“Could you get on your knees for me?” Bob asked. You smirked as you fell to your knees in front of him. You reached for his belt, carefully unbuckling it and shoving his pants down his legs. He was already rock hard, the idea of photographing you had been enough to wind him up. You spit on your hand and then wrapped your fingers around his cock. He moaned softly. You leaned down and gave his tip a few kitten licks, cleaning up the precum that was leaking out of him. 

“Look up at me,” Bob called. “Stick your tongue out.” You turned your eyes up towards Bob to find he was pointing the camera down at you. He took his cock in his free hand and pressed it down against your tongue before the camera flashed. Bob dropped the photo on the bedside table, where a stack of them would soon sit. While he was distracted you let his cock push down your throat. He gasped in surprise, knees nearly giving out beneath him. 

“Jesus, honey,” Bob groaned. You hummed in satisfaction around him, pleased that you had caught him off guard. He was good at teasing you, and you always had to find your own ways to get back at him. 

Bob turned his focus back down to you as you deepthroated his thick cock. He pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail so he could see you as your lips moved up and down his shaft. He groaned as he gently guided you up and down, keeping the control mostly in your hands. 

“Look up,” Bob called. You flicked your eyes up to see the lens of the camera facing you. You gave your best innocent doe eyes as the camera flashed again. He pulled you off his cock, tossing the picture with the other. 

“What next, Robby?” You asked as you licked your lips. He lifted you to your feet and pulled you in for a kiss. 

“I want to get some of you in this pretty little thing you bought for me, sweetheart,” Bob told you cheekily. “Lay on the bed.” You quickly followed his instruction, climbing onto the bed and laying out on your back. You spread your hair around your head and adjusted the lingerie set. Bob was crouched on his knees, looming above you as he pointed the camera down at your body. 

“Smile for me, honey,” Bob called. The absurdity of the context pulled a giggle from you and the camera flashed again. He looked down at you thoughtfully, planning out his next masterpiece. He smirked when his idea came. 

“Spread your legs for me,” Bob requested. “Squeeze those pretty tits I love so much.” You moaned softly at the idea. He was really indulging himself. You followed his instructions and the camera flashed again. 

Bob kneeled over your hips so he could reach you better. He pushed his thumb down against your tongue. You closed your lips around it, letting your tongue slide against it. 

“That’s my good girl,” Bob cooed as you sucked on his finger. The camera flashed again. He slowly drew his hand away from your mouth. He slid his hand to rest on your throat. The pressure was firm, but not restricting. The camera flashed again. His hands kept moving down to your breasts, squeezing them in a way that would leave bruises in the morning as the camera flashed once more. 

“I want your bra off,” Bob told you. You leaned up from the mattress and pulled the fabric off, leaving you nearly bare in front of him. He grabbed your tits, thumb rubbing over your nipples  briefly. He sunk his fingers around your round breast and flashed the camera again. 

“Can I have your cock now, sir?” You begged. Bob smirked. 

“No,” Bob said. “I want some pictures with my fingers inside your pretty little pussy first.” You sighed in disapproval. 

“Hurry up then,” you whined. He chuckled. 

“Be patient,” Bob told you. “I want to take my time with you.” As much as you were desperate for Bob’s cock you couldn’t help the small whimper that his words pulled from you. “Can you lift your legs up for me?” He requested. You smiled softly at him as you lifted your legs into the air so he could remove your panties. He tossed them off the side of the bed. 

Bob looked down at your bare cunt, glistening with your arousal for him. He put the camera down and used both hands to stroke up and down your thighs. His touch was featherlight, drawing goosebumps to your skin. 

“Robby…” You whispered needily. 

“I know, baby,” Bob cooed in understanding. “I promise that I’ll give you everything you want, but you have to be patient.” Something in his tone was different. He knew what you really wanted from him. He knew you wanted him to make you a mother.  

“Please just touch my pussy, Robby,” you begged. “However you want. I don’t care. I just need to feel you there.” Bob smiled. He moved a single finger to your clit, gently rubbing circles around it to appease you. The moment Bob’s finger made contact with your clit your back arched in the air and your mouth fell open in a silent moan. 

“Open your eyes,” Bob ordered. When you did the camera flashed on your face. 

“Are you ready for a finger?” He asked. 

“Can I have two?” You pleaded. Bob considered your request. You were being good for him and you were letting him live out this fantasy. 

“Okay, honey,” Bob agreed. “Two it is.” He sucked his ring and middle fingers between his lips, coating them in his spit. “Ready?” He asked as he aimed the camera towards your dripping twat. You nodded furiously. 

“Please,” you begged. “I need you.” Bob smirked. You needed him. Wasn’t that sweet?

“I’ve got you, baby.” No sooner did you feel Bob’s fingertips gently sliding through your folds. You inhaled sharply, waiting for him to give you what you wanted. He was filled with a wave of pride at the small sound. It made him desperate to give you what you wanted. He pushed his fingers into you, his movement quick enough to relieve your desire without being harsh. The camera flashed.

“Thank you, Robby,” You mewled.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Bob cooed back. He kept a steady rhythm inside you as he snapped another picture of your cunt with his fingers buried in it. “You’re so sexy, sweetheart,” Bob groaned as he felt you clench down on his fingers. 

“I want your cock, Robby,” you whined. 

“Come on my fingers first,” Bob pleaded with you. He put the camera down and reached down with his other hand to rub tight circles around your clit with his thumb. You moaned in surprise and kicked your legs against the mattress. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bob cooed. “Come for me.” He hooked his fingers against your walls, pressing into your g spot as he sped up his movements on your clit. 

“Fuck! Bobby!” You cried out in pleasure. The camera flashed. Your walls pulsated around Bob’s fingers and your legs shook. You arched your back away from the mattress. The camera flashed. You opened your eyes to see Bob’s adoring stare as he flashed the camera once more on your sweaty, fucked out face. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” Bob murmured. Tears sprung to your eyes despite his sweet praise. 

“Your cock, Robby,” you whined. “Need your cock, please.” You sniffled as you fell into a state of total desperation for only one thing. Bob’s eyes softened upon seeing your tears. He quickly reached up to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bob whispered softly. He crawled up your body, bringing the camera with him. “Didn’t realize just how bad you needed me.” He lined the swollen head of his cock up with your dripping hole. 

“Always need you this bad, Robby,” you whimpered. Bob kissed your nose softly. 

“I know, baby,” he cooed. “Me too.” You moaned softly. Bob had gotten himself in position to take another picture. He had his thick cock in his hand, lined up perfectly with your wet slit. He held the camera in his other hand. His eyes flicked up to yours. “Ready?” He asked. You nodded quickly. Bob pushed his cock into you. The camera flashed several times—some photos on your face or your body, and a few at the spot where you were connected. 

“Ohh, Robert…” You moaned slowly as you felt him fill the emptiness that you’d needed him to fill. Bob cursed quietly. You looked up at him. He was beautiful, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his body tight around you. 

“Can I take a picture of you?” You asked. Bob smirked. 

“Yeah, honey,” he agreed. “You can take one.” He handed you the camera. You pointed it up at him and reached up, dragging your nails down his chest as the camera flashed. You handed him the camera and the undeveloped photo. 

“Thank you, Bobby.” Bob put the camera  and photo to the side and turned his focus fully on you. He leaned down on his forearm so he could kiss your neck as his hips fucked slowly into you. He grabbed your leg with his other hand, pulling it up around his hip so he could get just a bit deeper. 

You came without warning, but kept your moans in. You weren’t supposed to come without asking. Bob kept fucking into you and you thought you’d gotten away with it when you came again. You were doing your best to keep your breathing even and not pass out as you recovered. Then Bob switched arms and pulled your other leg around his hip as well. You knew that you were going to squirt this time. 

“Can I come?” You cried out suddenly, unsure whether you’d be able to hold it anyway. 

“Yes, baby,” Bob agreed. You let the electric pleasure run over you, whimpering and whining as you did. Bob wore a proud grin as he watched your face contorting in pleasure and felt you clench down on his hard cock. Clear fluid sprayed out over his cock. Bob reached down and rubbed back and forth on your clit, splashing your cum all over the sheets. You were panting as Bob stilled his hips, still buried inside you. 

“You’re so pretty when you come, baby girl,” Bob drawled. His accent was thicker when he used the low tone that he would pull during sex. He knew how much it drove you crazy. “How many times was that? Be honest, I know you came at least once without telling me.” 

“Including when you fingered me?” You asked shyly. 

“Yes, sweetheart,” Bob replied. 

“Four,” you told him quietly, awaiting your punishment for the two unpermitted orgasms.

“Why are you so horny today, huh?” Bob asked. You looked away. You knew exactly why. It was why you’d bought the lingerie. Bob wanting to take pictures had been a surprising bonus. “Answer me,” Bob pushed. 

“I’m ovulating,” you admitted in a whisper. Bob groaned roughly. He made one quick and deep thrust into you, pulling a surprised gasp from you. 

“You want me to get you pregnant, baby?” Bob asked, his voice as slow and smooth as molasses. You nodded. “Tell me, honey. Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to get me pregnant, Robby,” you told him. “I want you to fuck your cum deep into me.” 

“All you had to do was ask, baby,” Bob said with a smile. He began fucking you again, faster this time. If you wanted his cum he was going to give it to you. You clawed at his back and he left hickies over your chest and neck. Bob reached down between your bodies to rub circles over your clit. You moaned loudly. 

“Can I please come?” You begged. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Bob told you. You fell apart on Bob’s cock, tightening down on him as he thrust into you. He moaned loudly, making a few harsh thrusts into you before you felt him coming deep into you. He kept fucking into you as he rode out his orgasm. You were slowly coming down. He leaned back onto his knees so he was upright and grabbed your hips. He lifted you and pulled you down against him, getting deeper than you had ever felt him before. The new sensation threw you into another unexpected orgasm and you cried out in pleasure, milking Bob’s cock for everything he could give you. 

“Thank you, Robby,” you whimpered. Bob chuckled.

“I’m not done, sweetheart. If we want you to get pregnant I should probably give you more than one load.” You whimpered at the thought alone. Bob could already feel himself getting hard again. He rubbed your clit slowly, making you clench and flex around him. It was just what he needed to make him rock hard again. You moaned at the feeling of him hardening inside you. 

“Give it to me, Robby,” you whined. Bob didn’t need any other words of encouragement to begin fucking into you. He started off with a steady pace–not too fast, but not slow either. You were falling apart regardless, completely unable to hold in orgasms anymore as you lost yourself in the pleasure of Bob’s cock. He hit just the right spot and you felt the tightness in your stomach exploding again.

“Are you coming again?” 

“Yes, Robby,” you gasped. “I’m–ungh–I’m sorry. I can’t h-help it,” you whined. 

“Pathetic little thing, aren’t you?” Bob taunted. The degradation only made you come harder. His dog tags were dangling over you as he thrust in and out. You reached up and twisted the chain around your finger, tugging him down to meet your lips. He kissed you with a passion that reminded you of the very first time you kissed. His thrusts were getting more irregular as you continued pulsing around him. He reached down to your clit, desperate to pull one last orgasm from you. He rubbed against the sensitive nub, lubricated by his own cum leaking out around his cock. 

You screamed out in overwhelming pleasure and came again. Fire burned through your body as every part of your body tightened and then snapped into a release. You were moaning loudly, not really aware of the sounds that were coming out of your mouth. You started squirting again, the fluid spraying out around Bob’s cock as he continued to fuck into you. He groaned loudly at the sight. Bob grunted, gasping loudly before hammering harshly into you with a deafening moan as he emptied everything he had into you. Bob rolled off of you after a moment. The two of you lay there, quietly catching your breath as the two of you each recovered from the strongest orgasms either of you had ever had. 

“How many times was that for you, sweetheart?” Bob asked after a moment. 

“Eight, I think,” you admitted. 

“Jesus,” Bob said. “I hope the pregnancy hormones are this good too.” 

“You came so much, Robby. I can feel it inside me,” you murmured. “It’s so warm.” 

“Will you push it out for me, baby? Will you show me what I gave you?” Bob requested. He leaned up and grabbed the camera. 

“That’s not gonna help me get pregnant,” you said. 

“I’ll push it back into you, baby. Besides, I fucked my first load real deep into you,” he said. 

“You’re so dirty, Robby,” you teased. Bob smiled. He kissed your thigh. 

“Please, baby?” You rolled your eyes but smiled. You clenched your insides, trying to push out the thick cumload Bob had given you. Suddenly you felt the warm liquid dripping down your folds. “Fucking hell, honey.” He took one last picture. He scooped his cum back up onto his fingers, pushing it back into you again. He crawled up the bed to be level with you, putting the camera on the bedside table and picking up the stack of photos. 

“Want to see?” Bob asked. You nodded as you scooted over to his side. The two of you looked through the photos, Bob complimenting something about you in each one. When you got to the photo you had taken of him you grinned widely. 

“You look so sexy, Bobby,” you said. Bob chuckled. 

“Glad you think so, honey,” he said. You bumped your arm against him. 

“You’re an adonis, Bobby. Completely out of my league,” you said with a smile. Bob rolled his eyes. 

“Honey, I’m in a squad with adonises, but I ain’t one,” Bob joked. 

“Oh, please. None of them even compare to you. You had me wrapped around your finger the moment I saw your eyes,” you said in reflex. Bob could tell you meant it by how quickly you said it. 

“I love you, baby,” he said simply. You looked up at him and kissed him gently. 

“I love you too.” Bob turned back to the photos. 

“Could you write me notes on them? Like you do with my lunches?” Bob asked shyly. You grinned at him, leaning to kiss him gleefully. You pulled away with a smile still on your face. He always told you how much he loved the notes you put in his lunch everyday. 

“Yes,” you said simply. “Do you want them to be sexy or sweet?” You asked. Bob smiled softly. 

“Both, just like you.” Bob flipped to the picture of his cum dripping out of your pussy. He hummed softly at it. “I sorta wish I could’ve had one with my cum on your face too,” he said. You smirked. 

“I think I can make that happen.”

[ennabear]

BAE. i absofrickenlutely NEED you to write something along the lines of decorating sevika with crimis boas and lights and whatever, maybe while she's sleeping idfk- and have her be like 😠 butt because reader is so cute and sev loves them sm, she can't hide her smile OR WHATEVER THE FUCK I SAID U KNOW WHAT I MEAN😭😭

i also made this for you. um. idk. it's not very. crimis sevika, but more crimis if it was sevikamas. imagine her trapped in an ornament ok plu shut ya face now bai luv u o masterful sevika writer

HAIII PLUTOBAE HEHEHE thank you for this idea, you cooked fr!!!! i’m featuring jinx in this because i’m a sucker for the found family trope and also her ass would LOVE to prank sevika LMAOOO 😭 AND THANKS FOR THE ORNAMENTS I’M HANGING THEM ON MY SEVIKAMAS TREE!!!!

one last thing, idk if they celebrate or even know about christmas in zaun so just pretend they do for a sec… thanks guys!!!

potential s2 spoilers under the cut!! read at your own risk!!!

sevika’s been stressed out of her mind. she’s not used to having this much power, but with silco gone it’s necessary. she’s also had no choice but to take jinx under her wing, which she’s not exactly thrilled about, especially now that jinx has taken her own little cub under her wing too. exhausted is an understatement. she’s got no clue how to lead a rebellion, and much less how to parent.

so you feel a little bit mean for what you’re about to do, but your wife deserves some giggles in these hard times, no matter how pissed she’ll initially be. jinx giggles as she tiptoes toward sevika’s slumped over form, her snores echoing through the room. you hope your wife enjoyed her sleep while she could.

jinx pokes her a few times to make sure she’s sound asleep, and if anything it only pushes sevika deeper into her slumber. you coo at your wife, she finally looks so relaxed after these past few weeks. jinx sticks her tongue out and pretends to gag at the affection you show to your wife, but she quickly switches back to excitement when you hand over a long rope of sparkly red tinsel.

she wastes no time in wrapping it around sevika and tying it to the chair with intricate knots. sevika doesn’t wake up as she gets restrained to the chair, not as you lift up her heavy new arm and wrap it in brightly colored lights, not even as jinx sticks a few shiny bows to her head. “ready?” she asks.

“ready.” you laugh, preparing yourself for the way sevika’s gonna bitch and moan when she wakes up. once jinx presses a few buttons, the loudest version of ‘get jinxed’ booms through the room, and you jump back in surprise. it’s so loud you swear the whole building shakes, and sevika’s awake in an instant with her arm rattling to the sound of the bass.

“turn it off, jinx!” she shouts, wiggling against her restraints in an attempt to cover her ears. “JINX?”

as soon as she catches sight of the blue-haired girl clutching her stomach in a fit of laughter, she looks like she’s about to smash the kid to pieces. “JINX!” she shouts over the music, “TURN IT OFF.”

jinx rushes over and shuts the music off before her own eardrums blow out, but quickly returns to giggling hysterically. “merry christmas, sevika. you’ve been jinxed!” she laughs. “you should’ve seen your face! i didn’t think you could look any angrier than you already do!”

“what the fuck is this!?” sevika shouts with that deep growl that you love in her voice. “what the fuck is wrong wi—” and then she sees you. you’re laughing nearly as hard as jinx, and she can’t help but gawk at you. your smile is her favorite thing in the world, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping her going lately, but how could you be so cruel?

taking advantage of sevika’s surprised, annoyed, and offended state, jinx ties a new string of white lights to the back of sevika’s chair and starts running around her in circles. “you’re in on this?” sevika asks you.

“well, yeah.” you admit, stepping closer to her. your wife gasps and blinks at you blankly. “how could you?”

“you were asleep,” jinx cuts in. “that’s what you get for falling asleep on the clock.” sevika sighs at this, closing her eyes to keep herself under control before she can spew insults at jinx. “i’m not ‘on the clock’ you brat. it’s early in the morning, and i wouldn’t be so tired if you knew how to clean up your own messes.”

you settle yourself on sevika’s lap, slinging your legs over her as she tries and fails to wrap you in her arms. “you look cute.” you say. “i don’t look cute. untie me.” she demands. you ignore her, instead picking up a few ornaments and hanging them from the little half-ponytail in her hair. jinx notices this and practically flies over, sticking a few snowflake shaped hair clips in sevika’s hair.

you can’t help but laugh at your wife, she looks exactly like a christmas tree. if trees could scowl and pout, that is. jinx joins you, stepping back to admire her work beside you. sevika’s lips twist into a flat line, her eyebrows so low they’re about to make contact with her eyes. it’s been a while since you’ve felt a true familial love, but this feels real and warm to you. you giggle even harder as a sudden love for your girls floods your heart, and sevika shakes her head at you in disapproval.

jinx shoves a mirror in sevika’s face, and this time her lips slightly twist up in the corners as she tries her hardest not to smile. she’s glowing with the amount of lights on her, and the amount of sparkly ornaments and clips hanging from her pisses her off even more. it’s ridiculous. and hilarious. and she loves you guys so much, no matter how unwilling she is to admit it.

“don’t smile…” you tease. “don’t you dare smile, sevika. don’t do it.” she shakes her head again, refusing to make eye contact with either of you and instead staring at the floor.

“i’m not… smiling.” she says, holding her lips as straight as she can. you sit yourself in her lap again, holding her close as she muffles her not-smile in the crook of your neck. “you love us.” you accuse. she sighs with a defeated giggle, a smile brighter than the lights wrapped around her body finally settling on her face. “i guess you’re right. get over here, you fucker.” she mumbles, gesturing with her head for jinx to join in the group hug.

jinx reluctantly walks over and wraps her arms around sevika as loosely as she can, although you know deep down that they both love each other more than they pretend to. you smile, pressing a kiss to sevika’s head and ruffling jinx’s bright blue hair.

“pull anything like this again, and my arm will chomp your heads off. both of you.” sevika threatens, although she means it in the most loving way possible. “that’s my arm.” jinx corrects, flicking her in the forehead. “and maybe next time you should try falling asleep in a bed.”

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

What if like Vi and the others (I can’t spell their names) like tried to or kidnapped the reader to get Jinx to surrender! This is like during season 2 btw! I would prefer female reader but gender neutral is fine! Have a lovely day/night!

Sure! Have a lovely day as well!

Kidnapped

if you got kidnapped by anyone, it’s a given Jinx would go fucking crazy

I feel at first there was something knawing at her in the back of her head saying stuff like

“She left you. It’s your fault she left you. She’s thinks she’s to good for you.”

Even if she is really, really secure in your relationship there’s always something in her head saying that

She initially acted out as she had no fucking clue where you were and had no idea what happened to you so her mind is running wild

She is going fucking crazy looking for you bro, and I’m talking scouring the lanes, and she’s contemplating going topside as well

She either doesnt find out they have you until the Jinx vs Vi and Caitlyn be Sevika fight where they probably reveal they have you

Hey probably were trying to get her to surrender for your safety

Jinx was contemplating it, but she knew she would find a way to get you both out of there safely, and alive

But the other alternative where she finds out they have you, is probably when they started filling the lanes with The Grey and she’s in the hideout from when y’all were kids

She was in the rafters, and she saw that red headed girl she didn’t know the name of, with her hands on you and dragging you around like you weren’t the most precious thing in her life

Vi knows how important you are to Jinx

You either were with them when everything went down in episode three, and knew Vi since childhood

Or you met her during act 2 and she saw visually how much you meant to jinx and how much she relied and clung to you in her absence

Either way, she knows just who you are, and your importance to her sister

If you’re childhood friends, Vi would feel guilty but she had to do it

When Jinx gets her hands on Vi during their fight in the first scenario, she is going harder and she is more pissed

She doesn’t wanna kill her sister, she just wants her to feel the pain Vi purposely made her feel by taking you away

If she found out by scenario 2, she probably found some way to come out of hiding and get you out of there and probably fuck them up or just sneak you out of there with her and Sevikas arms

But when she does have you back, she is CLINGING to you and unwilling to let you go

She does not let you out of her sight because she is so scared that you will be taken away

She’s always been scared of being abandoned, now she’s worrying about you being forcibly taken away

She’s afraid you’ll be taken some place where she cannot find you and cannot save you

It takes a long time for her to calm down and let you go places alone again

Her relationship with Vi was already rocky, but this solidified how far gone their relationship was and how unfixable it is

If Vi was willing to take away the one person who makes her happy and keeps her grounded, what was the point of reconnecting? What was the point of reconciliation?

It also motivates her to take out Caitlyn. She wants Vi to feel the pain that she caused her

[certifiedsexed]

hey there! i don’t mean this in bad faith at all, and i’m not trying to use a term that’s a fascist dogwhistle. i promise i’m just confused😭

so i’m not a guy, nor have i ever been perceived as one, but in one of your recent posts, you said that men can’t experience oppression solely based on the fact that they’re men. which was kind of confusing to me — i don’t think you’re wrong, i think it’s me but i don’t know how to get to how you see it like that.

because in my experience, men can experience oppression because they’re men, although i don’t know if i’m saying that right or conflating the meanings of certain terms. i’m probably wrong, and would just love some clarification?

for example, my brother and i were always held to different standards growing up — it was expected of me to always cry and be emotional, and i was a ‘stone cold bitch’ if that wasn’t the case, but if my brother wanted to show negative emotions like sadness he was treated like there was something wrong with him too. and i know it wasn’t my brother — i spend a lot of time working with my high school’s diversity team, and in a lot of the events we organise, guys talk about how they feel enormous pressure to be angry and never sad, and to have stereotypically masculine interests and never deviate from that norm.

i also know men who’ve struggled to get jobs such as teaching as those are viewed as ‘female’ jobs and it’s a common view that men who want those jobs are ‘only in it to be around kids’. i’ve heard many women around me perpetuate sentiments like that, so i know they’re not making it up, even if it isn’t equal to the systematic oppression women face in almost every aspect of their careers.

i’m not providing these examples to prove you wrong, since i do think you’re right. i’m hoping that a window into the way i’ve always thought might help you clarify this in a way that can help me to change my mind, since i just think i��m lacking some clarity or context here. i think i’m conflating abuse and stereotypes with oppression, but i’m really not sure. any advice would be really appreciated!

i’m so sorry if this comes off badly, i don’t mean it that way. i’m just trying to learn, i promise i’m not trying to promote the kind of hate and close mindedness you’ve been seeing in your inbox as of late.

Hi! As always, I do not mind answering genuine questions!

The things you're talking about growing up and seeing boys around you pressured to present only certain emotions, that's part of the patriarchy!

Certain emotions are supposed to be "feminine" and thus boys shouldn't show them, while girls are often always considered "emotional" in some fashion. That's not oppression based on those boys being men that you're talking about.

It's the backlash that the patriarchy, and by addition trans/misogyny has on men. It's boys being pressured not to show certain emotions because those emotions are "feminine" and they're supposed to associate feminimity with weakness and shit.

What you're talking about there is also trans/misogyny!

The idea that men who do things perceived as feminine are predators, the idea that specific jobs are "female" jobs [while even in those specific female jobs, men are generally paid better and find it easier to get into those jobs than women trying to get into traditionally "male" jobs"]

[Though obviously this varies based on race and whether they're trans, etc, etc.]

To be a little more clear, all of the things you're talking about don't primarily affect cis men/boys. They fuck up transfems, because it's trans/misogyny.

You're right! It's not systemic oppression.

You might wonder if it's social oppression, which is also a no. Social oppression would require a historical/systemic oppression behind it. But that doesn't exist in this case.

What it is is the common issue oppressors run into. While they benefit greatly from oppression, there is also backlash they face from their own systems of oppression.

Like white people who fall into suicide cults trying to work towards white supremacy, or TERFs who fall into groups where they slowly pick each other off as they discover they're not all exactly the same and wind up accusing each other of not being "real" women, systems of bigotry simply do not work out perfectly even for the oppressors.

They never do.

To create the patriarchy, you must establish trans/misogyny, you must establish intersexism and you must push people to conform to those ideals, even if they hurt your own.

It's similar to how white supremacy can harm white people, despite white people obviously not being oppressed racially. The backlash of oppression hits even the oppressors sometimes.

Suppression, as a term, would honestly work far better to describe what you're talking about.

So yes, it's stereotyping, yes it's abusive to tell your children not to show/feel their emotions but it's not oppression based on these guys in your life being men! It's part of how trans/misogyny, transphobia and intersexism are enforced.

I understand exactly where you're coming from! It doesn't sound bad and I genuinely don't mind answering questions! Especially since you've got some good ones!

I'm not sure if I rambled too much to explain this properly but I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions and/or need me to clarify anything here. <33

[randum-famdoms]

As someone with a much larger vocabulary than the average American (due to various factors, but personally I attribute this to the terrible American education system more than anything else), I’ve genuinely considered starting to screen record while I’m writing essays for college as proof that I’m not using ai to cheat, unless you count spell check as ai. Which I don’t, and any sane person wouldn’t either.

AI checkers are faulty at best and genuinely broken beyond comprehension at worst. I lean towards the worst side of the scale. There have been countless cases of these things just flat out not working, whether that’s through false positives or not catching actual ai use.

I think the worst or maybe just weirdest case I’ve seen was a situation where one of my friend’s classmates got flagged for ai use because they included a block quote that the checker decided was suspicious. A fucking quote. Ya know, the one thing in an essay that you don’t write yourself.

Insanity.

I hadn’t heard about this trend of ai checkers forcing people to dumb down their words leading to actual published works being dumbed down before. I mean, I knew about the results, but I’d assumed that it was caused by the general trend of the American populous getting “dumber”. By which I mean that each year there are statically more people graduating with lower reading levels/worse understanding of how things like science and math work. It’s not their fault, the American education system is deeply flawed and underfunded more and more every year and far too many parents let iPads raise children instead of actually parenting. And the iPad baby bit is making things even worse year by year as more and more content for kids (and adults) is ai generated. It’s much more complicated than that, but I’m not about to go into minutia over this in a tumblr post.

The general trend toward content (including published books) being dumbed down is caused by a lot of factors. Pressure from publishers and higher ups, ai, the general lower standards of pre-college education (and college too, but less so for now), being raised by the internet, the fact that the internet is so consumed by ai and it worsens every day, the list goes on.

Ai isn’t the only source for these problems, but the fact remains that it is simultaneously the method being used to enforce the trend and most of the other sources can trace back their roots to AI in some way or another.

And frankly we can’t do Jack shit about it. At least, we can’t do anything to stop ai. It’s far too late for that.

What we can do is try for now to make sure our own writing isn’t mislabeled as AI, not by dumbing it down but rather by providing proof that you were the one to write it. We can make sure that when we have kids they don’t get access to ai and that they are raised by a human, not by a computer. We can try to help schools get more funding. We can rate books that haven’t been dumbed down higher than ones than have, and maybe even message publishers to tell them that they are idiots if they think their readers want something written so boringly.

We can’t stop generative ai, but we can learn how to coexist with it.

[fayes-fics]

The Ballad of Blunt Pencil & Pizza Wheel

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Comedy texting fic. Childhood frenemies moving in together is a great idea. Isn't it?

Warnings: None really. Swearing, references to sex, masturbation, dirty talk and spanking. Frenemies to lovers. Comedy. A fuckton of sass. Bridgerton family shenanigans.

Word Count: 3.9k tricky with text fics ngl

Author's Note: Request fill for Anon (who wanted Ben and reader to have been secretly in love with each other and get together after she has a breakup). It might be slightly unusual, but it’s what the muse insisted on as a response. Thanks to the ever-patient @colettebronte, who willingly reads my silliness, including a partial version of this nonsense. Enjoy! <3

BB: *Fraggle Rock theme tune*

Y/N: Why don't you just say hello like a normal person? Y/N: *Insert sighing emoji here* (I can't be arsed to find it)

BB: Excuse me, this is actually a very supportive message BB: I heard from El you got dumped

Y/N: And how does an 80s kids' show theme song help me with that??

BB: Have you paid attention to the opening line??

Y/N: No…? Y/N: Too busy enjoying the rocking guitar tbh

BB: Fair BB: 🎶Dance your cares away, worries for another day🎶 BB: See?? supportive

Y/N: You are so weird Y/N: And also oddly accurate. He was a total muppet

BB: It’s taken you 30 years to figure that out?? BB: Sorry to hear it

Y/N: No, just… appreciating it. Well, you Y/N: Thank you, by the way

BB: 🫶😀

—

3 weeks later

Y/N: What is the capital of Burundi? Pub quiz is getting fractious

BB: Why don't you cheat like every other team and just use Google? BB: Why bother old friends?

Y/N: Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Charisma, I didn't realise your Tuesday night was so busy

BB: Friends don't leave friends who love pub quizzes out of their pub quiz teams 😛

Y/N: You're cute when you sulk Y/N: So… the answer?

BB: I’m not Jeeves  BB: Look it up yourself

Y/N: Wow, you really are such a blunt pencil

BB: ??

Y/N: Pointless

BB: Alright, pizza wheel

Y/N: ??

BB: All edge, no point

Y/N: *has left the conversation*

BB: Typing it doesn't make it happen

Y/N: *HAS LEFT THE CONVERSATION*

BB: Neither does yelling it pizza wheel

Y/N: Don't make me call you pencil boy…

—

5 weeks later

Y/N: Pencil boy, it happened again

BB: Yeah… definitely don't like that BB: What did?

Y/N: Send TV theme…

BB: *Fraggle rock theme intensifies*

Y/N: Thank you

BB: No problems BB: Sorry to hear it

Y/N: Me too. Really thought this one would stick Y/N: He even liked my Cabbage Patch kids 

BB: You still have that shit?! BB: They are low-key terrifying

Y/N: He did turn them all around when we had sex though 🤔 

BB: Got his number?

Y/N: Why??

BB: Sort of agree with him on that. Might want to be his friend, not yours

Y/N: Shut up, Pencil Boy

BB: Pizza Wheel BB: We have to stop flirting like this 👀

Y/N: Pffft  Y/N: This isn’t flirting 

BB: Isn’t it?

Y/N: Are your clothes still on? 

BB: Well, yeah…

Y/N: Then it’s not my style of flirting 

BB: Bit slutty (supportive)

Y/N: The brackets saved you there, Pencil Boy

BB: Well aware BB: You’ll be okay. There’s someone better out there for you BB: Someone who appreciates Cabbage Patch kids

Y/N: THANK YOU. Was that so hard?

—

4 days later

Y/N: Can I call you?

BB: Yes of course BB: What’s wrong?

Y/N: Best explained over the phone  

BB: Okay. I’m here BB: Whatever you need

2 hours later

Y/N: Thank you friend Y/N: Just… thank you 

BB: Anytime 🧡 BB: I meant what I said BB: If you need it, it’s yours

Y/N: You are a great and wonderful friend Y/N: I may well do so 🧡

BB: You are always welcome here. For as long as you need

Y/N: 🫂😘

—

1 day later

CB: You invited Y/N to move in with you?!?!

AB: 😳 Surely not?!?! AB: He can only have one colossally bad idea a week and that hoodie was a choice

BB: Good evening to you too brothers BB: Hope you’re well BB: I'm fine, thanks. You?

CB: Yeah yeah whatever CB: I don't see a denial here

BB: 🤷 

AB: You fucking idiot

BB: Why? I’m trying to help a friend here BB: I thought it was a nice thing to do?

CB: It is 

AB: Usually 

CB: There’s just one problem 

AB: You are completely in love with her and have been since you were 5

BB: Pffft BB: Please…

CB: That’s your denial??  CB: Even I could do a more convincing job than that

BB: Pen would suggest otherwise…

AB: Don’t fling mud to distract AB: We are talking about your stupidity atm, not his

CB: Oi

AB: Don’t even

BB: Listen… she just got dumped for the 100th time BB: Her flatmate is moving out cos they lost their job BB: She can’t afford the rent on her own or a place by herself at the moment cos she’s still burdened with debt resettlement from her criminal asshat ex from 2 years ago BB: She needs to be in London for her job and her parents have moved to Wales BB: What would you have done?

CB: Tell her to move in with El?  CB: Or literally any of her other friends?!

BB: Well I have a spare room…

AB: So does El

BB:

AB: Memes? Really?

CB: You’re just jealous cos you can’t figure out text attachments

AB: Shut up

CB: Kate thinks it’s hilarious

AB: Leave my wife out of this

*BB has left the group*

*AB added BB back into the group*

AB: You don’t get to quit being our brother 

BB: Shame

3 minutes later

CB: Wait… What did you mean about Pen?

AB: How can you be this stupid? I paid for you to go to Eton…

*BB has left the group*

AB: Can’t fault him this time tbh

*AB has left the group*

CB: Rude…

—

1 week later

EB: I have a spare room y'know

Y/N: I’m aware

EB: So why subject yourself to Ben?

Y/N: You are all so horrible about each other 

EB: And you love to watch it 

Y/N: 🤷‍♀️🍿 Y/N: Anyway, I’m here now Y/N: He bought new bedding for me 🥹 Y/N: I didn’t have the heart to tell him I already have 4 sets

EB: I know he’s my brother and thus deserving of shit. But don’t torture him too much

Y/N: What the fuck are you talking about?

EB: I suspect he has a leeedle crush on you tbh

Y/N: Pffft Y/N: No he doesn’t Y/N: All we do is call each other names and snark  Y/N: It’s been that way since 1994. I don’t see it changing anytime soon

EB: It’s like she’s never read Shakespeare

Y/N: That’s BenedicK, not BenedicT

EB: Funny how you knew exactly what play I was referring to, Beatrice

5 seconds later

Y/N: Gen… Is Ben into me?!

GD: What’s brought this on?

Y/N: Answer the question!

GD: Why are you asking me if my ex likes you?

Y/N: Please… You fucked like twice 3 years ago and are still friends Y/N: Don’t pretend there is any trauma here Y/N: I’d really like to know, seeing as I’ve just moved in with him 

GD: You fucking did WHAT?! GD: Why?!

Y/N: I needed a new place Y/N: He was the first to offer

GD: What kind of rash reason is that?! GD: I have a spare room GD: El has a spare room GD: Dave and the gambling debts in your name weren’t bad enough…? GD: It’s like you’re actively trying to live in a Greek tragedy, I swear

Y/N: Don’t invoke that shit’s name

GD: Sorry GD: But really…

Y/N: So you’re saying he’s into me

GD: For an intelligent woman, you know fuck all GD: Even about yourself

Y/N: Why are all my friends so rude to me?!

GD: Bitch please. You are so in love with him

Y/N: I’m not

GD: Yes you are  GD: He’s always the first person you text when you have a breakup

Y/N: Yeah… cos he’s the only one of my friends who ISN'T RUDE TO ME

GD: OR you always want him to be the first to know you’re single again

Y/N: Not sure I want to be your friend anymore

GD: Fine. Give me back my Canada Goose coat

Y/N: Let's not be too hasty now…

—

2 days later

BB: Do we have milk?

Y/N: How should I know? I don’t drink the stuff

BB: Aren’t you working from home today?

Y/N: Yeah? And?

BB: You have these amazing things called legs…

Y/N: I have a block button too y’know

BB: You wouldn't block the hero who single-handedly removed 2 spiders from your room last night

Y/N: … … Fiiiiine

20 seconds later

Y/N: We, or rather YOU, could do with some more

BB: Okay. Thank you

Y/N: If you’re in the mood, I wouldn't say no to some cheesecake

BB: I’m not in the mood BB: Mostly because you are lactose intolerant and won't stop bitching about the regret afterwards BB: I’ll get you some non-dairy brownies

Y/N: What kind of flatmate are you?

BB: The awful kind who looks out for your best interests

Y/N: Urghhh, the very worst

—

3 days later

Y/N: Bennnnnnn!! BEN!! SOS!!! Y/N: ANOTHER 🕷️

BB: It’s fucking 3am

Y/N: That's why I texted Y/N: So much politer than screaming and banging on your wall Y/N: It’s not my fault you live on some kind of spider superhighway Y/N: I never would have moved in here if I knew

BB: It’s harmless. Go back to sleep

Y/N: What about if this time it’s some poisonous one that crawled from a Shein package? And you wake up to a dead flatmate?

BB: Arguably, that’s appropriate payback for your endorsement of such a horrendous company

Y/N: I don't judge you for your odd shelf of little rocks Y/N: So don’t judge me for my sparkly shoe addiction

BB: How about I lend you a rock to throw at the spiders?

Y/N: How could you?!? I don't wish death upon them Y/N: Just for them to live their lives nowhere within my vicinity Y/N: You know you would have been back to sleep by now if you had just come in here?

BB: I’m aware BB: I have no idea why I’m still arguing with you on text BB: Slightly worried what that says about me tbh

Y/N: IT’S MOVING TOWARDS ME

BB: omw

—

9 days later

KB: You guys need to stop

Y/N: What? Y/N: Why are you texting from my kitchen?

KB: Look at yourself KB: It’s not your kitchen. It’s my brother-in-law’s

Y/N: I live here too, Kate

KB: And you need to stop

Y/N: STOP WHAT?

KB: Do you see where your feet are?

Y/N: ??On the sofa??

KB: They are in Ben’s lap

Y/N: And??

KB: He has his hands wrapped around your ankles

Y/N: And?? Y/N: I get cold. He helps me sometimes

KB: When are you guys going to admit to what is happening here

Y/N: NOTHING IS HAPPENING

KB: Sure Jan

Y/N: Get back over here with the Monster Munch. I need Netflix snacks, not judgement

KB: I’m just saying… I pulled this shit with Ant and you rightly called me on it

Y/N: MONSTER MUNCH KATE

KB: Don’t glare over at me like that. Way to make it fucking obvious…

2 seconds later

*BB added KB and Y/N to a new group*

BB: What are you two arguing about?!

Y/N: Mind ya business, Pencil Boy

KB: Your lack of decent snacks

BB: Not my area. She is responsible for all junk food purchases in this household. I will not be held liable.

3 seconds later

KB: Pencil boy??

Y/N: It's a long story

4 seconds later

*AB added KB, BB & Y/N to a new group*

AB: ARE WE WATCHING THIS FUCKING FILM OR NOT?!

—

1 month later

Y/N: Gen… I fucked up

GD: What did you do??

Y/N: I should never have moved in here

GD: Yeah, I told you that weeks ago GD: Why the sudden revelation?

Y/N: He has a girl here

GD: And?

Y/N: I can hear them… thru the wall

GD: Yikes GD: Go for a walk or something

Y/N: No Gen. It's worse Y/N: So much worse Y/N: I can hear what he is saying

GD: GO FOR A WALK

Y/N: Gen help Y/N: Help Y/N: H.E.L.P. Y/N: It's turning me on…

GD: I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW ANY OF THIS!

Y/N: I had no idea he was a dirty talker

GD: I could have told you that…

Y/N: Why didn't you?!

GD: Why would that ever be relevant to our friendship?!

Y/N: You know that’s my weakness Y/N: You should have WARNED ME

GD: HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO PREDICT YOU WOULD EAVESDROP ON HIM HAVING SEX?!

Y/N: This is so awful Y/N: I don't know what to do Y/N: I’m in a quandary Y/N: A damp quandary

GD: Eww T-M-FUCKING-I

Y/N: I might as well just masturbate at this point

GD: I am hanging up on this text thread GD: I’m also off to put this phone in Dettol. Don't text me again for another few days

—

2 days later

BB: Why are you avoiding me?

Y/N: I’m not

BB: Yes you are BB: You haven't been home the last two nights BB: El said you’ve been hanging around her place 

Y/N: Ok fine. I am Y/N: This is so awkward Y/N: I… I heard you Y/N: Having sex  Y/N: I’m weirded out, okay?

BB: Shit… BB: I’m so sorry  BB: I thought you were out on a date

Y/N: It got rescheduled

BB: I'm so sorry BB: Next time I have company, I will double-check if you are home first

Y/N: Thank you Y/N: I will do the same

BB: Much appreciated BB: So, will you come home?  BB: There’s a new series of The Cleaner tonight 

Y/N: It's not real blood, you know?

BB: I know, but it looks like it

Y/N: You can't keep hiding behind me. You miss key plot points. It's a comedy show, you know

BB: Just get back here, Pizza Wheel

Y/N: Calm down, Pencil Boy I’m on my way

—

9 days later

BB: Send him home

Y/N: ??

BB: You heard me

Y/N: Why are you eavesdropping on my Tinder hookup?

BB: Don’t make me come in there and be a caveman about this. Just… BB: SEND HIM HOME

Y/N: I need sex

BB: Not from a twat like that you don’t BB: When he is out of the bathroom, I want you to send him away

Y/N: … Fine

3 minutes later

BB: Thank you

Y/N: You owe me a bloody orgasm

BB: He was likely incapable of giving you one  BB: When you are sober, you will thank me BB: And probably regret that last comment

Y/N: I regret nothing Y/N: I DARE you Benedict fucking Bridgerton Y/N: I fucking DARE you to give me an orgasm

4 hours later

Y/N: Gen Gen Gen GENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Y/N: I know it's 2am, you are probably asleep, but I have to tell you smthg right the fuck nowwww Y/N: So, Ben went all protector shit on a loser I picked up on Tinder Y/N: Made me throw him out Y/N: I bitched that he owed me an orgasm Y/N: Might have been a bit too sassy, too many drinks Y/N: Anyway GENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Y/N: GENNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Y/N: He stomps into my room, and god, he just…. Y/N: ARGHHHHHHHH Gen, he just took me, like respectfully, but also not at all respectfully Y/N: HE GAVE ME TWO Y/N: I am floating on a cloud. I can't feel my fucking knees Y/N: My flatmate is the best fuck I have EVER had Y/N: THIS IS TERRIBLE AND WONDERUL Y/N:  I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE Y/N:  HELP  Y/N:  PS Pls don't tell anyone

20 seconds later

BB: Stop freaking out about what just happened and come back to bed

Y/N: Ben we just…

BB: I know. Active, enthusiastic participant here BB: Don’t spiral about it. Just come back to bed BB: We can talk in the morning

Y/N: Did we just ruin everything?

BB: How is that not spiralling? BB: Get your lovely arse out of the bathroom and back in this bed, y/n, or istg I will spank it

Y/N: 😲🥵

BB: Oh I see. Hmm BB: Good to know 😜

—

5 hours later

GD: WHAT THE SERIOUS FUCK?!?!?!?! GD: THIS IS WHAT I WAKE UP TO?! GD: WHY DO YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?!? GD: CALL ME!!!!

2 hours later

EB: Why aren’t you at work today? Are you sick? EB: Did the Shein spider get you? 

1 hour later

EB: I guess it did  EB: Serves you right 😛

1 hour later

GD: WHY THE FUCK HAVEN’T YOU CALLED ME BACK YET? GD: I must have left like 10 missed calls by now

2 hours later

AB: Not to sound like a total dick, I know we’re family etc., but you are supposed to tell me if you’re taking a day off work Ben AB: Even nepo babies have some responsibilities

30 minutes later

KB: Why are Gen and El wondering where you are? KB: Text them, and also me now, too KB: I’m vaguely concerned but mostly nosey tbh

2 hours later

EB: ?????????

1 hour later

GD: Call me bitch.

2 hours later

CB: Where the fuck are you Ben?  CB: You never miss boys' night down The Ship normally?

30 mins later

Y/N: Uh hi 👋 Y/N: Sorry… Y/N: I uhh have been busy today

EB: Gen and I were ABOUT TO SEND OUT A SEARCH PARTY

Y/N: Please tell her I’m okay Y/N: I will call. Just not now

EB: Where are you?

Y/N: At home

EB: I am coming over!

Y/N: Please don’t

EB: Why not?

Y/N: Another time Y/N: I know I’m being all mysterious and shit Y/N: I will explain everything I promise

EB: Is Ben there?

Y/N: Yes

EB: Then tell him to look after you EB: I’m weirded out, you weirdo

Y/N: Oh he will  Y/N: I promise you he will Y/N: I errr won't be at work tomorrow either. Can you tell the boss?

EB: Are you sick?!

Y/N: Umm… yeah, let's go with that

EB: STOP BEING SO WEIRD

5 seconds later

BB: El, y/n is fine

EB: How is this any of your business?

BB: You literally asked for me to look after her 5 seconds ago

EB: How do you know that?! EB: Are you reading her texts?!

BB: She is showing them to me

EB: WHY!?! EB: What is this cloak and dagger shit?! EB: Did you fuck or something? Lol

1 minute later

EB: DID YOU?!?

1 minute later

EB: Y/N DID YOU FUCK MY BROTHER?!?

1 minute later

*EB added BB & Y/N to a new group*

EB: Answer me, you sneaky bitches

BB: We would appreciate some privacy at this time

10 seconds later

*EB added KB, AB, CB, PF, DB and SB to a new group*

EB: BEN AND Y/N ARE FUCKING

SB: Hello sister-in-law. Long time no chat. So lovely for us to catch up this way

EB: Don’t sass me Bassett

PF: Err okay. Why… why am I on this Bridgerton family chat?

EB: Bitch please, you are family. Well, you will be soon

PF: ??

*CB removed PF from the group*

AB: Subtle

DB: Super smooth

*EB added PF to the group*

EB: IS NO ONE GOING TO RESPOND TO THIS LIFE-ALTERING NEWS?

KB: I mean… we all knew it was going to happen

CB: Surprised he held out this long tbh

DB: He’s been in love with her since we were kids

EB: I thought he just fancied her a bit?!?!

AB: And they call ME the unobservant one?!

*PF left the group*

CB: Look what you did

*EB added PF to the group*

KB: Why did I marry into this family?

SB: I’ll take you for a drink sometime. You too Pen.

PF: ??

EB: You’re all useless.

—

2 days later

GD: *sings Where Do You Go by No Mercy tunelessly in your general direction*  GD: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yt-KMPvgKPo 

Y/N: Awful but also bangin cheese choon for a Sunday evening ngl

GD: SHE LIVES!! GD: El seemed to think you have been having nonstop sex since Thursday. GD: She’s also not handling that idea very well—lots of tequila.

Y/N: Not enough songs only have about 7 lyrics anymore. I miss the 90s.

GD: Avoiding that statement, huh?

Y/N: I will not dignify it with a response

GD: So that’s a yes

Y/N: 👀

8 days later

BB: I hate having a job 😘

Y/N: Me too… 😘 Y/N: I’ll be naked when you get home if that's any consolation

BB: I’m leaving now

Y/N: It’s only 11am lol Y/N: Stay there. I will see you later. It will be worth the wait. 😉

BB: You have been. BB: And I don't just mean today 😘

Y/N: 🥹 😘

56 days later

AB: Is this email for real?

BB: Yes. Yes, it is

AB: Wow. OK then AB: Congratulations

BB: Thank you. I'm very happy

AB: We can tell, brother, we can tell 

1 hour later

*KB added Y/N, SB & PF to a new group*

KB: Y/N, we meet every Wednesday for drinks. 

SB: Welcome to the fam, soon-to-be Mrs Bridgerton. It sucks; you are going to love it.

PF: Still not sure why I'm invited, but god, you guys are so much bloody fun I don't even care, lol.

10 seconds later

Y/N: Are you going to tell Pen, or should I?

KB: Naaahhh. It's more fun this way KB: Another very smart woman with a complete Bridgerton brother blindspot

Y/N: That sounds pointed

KB: You and me both, sister. You and me both.

Benedict taglist pt1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @hanji-emo-blog @sya-skies @urfavnoirette

[tiramisuucakeee]

# NEED THAT ★

( reader x lee heeseung )

IN WHICH: your annoying bf keeps dming you

BTW: some from pinterest. heeseung texting like every other 20 smth year old alpha male from a frat called sigma ligma.

read more !

‘ heeseung r u on ur way alr? ’

‘ you did not just leave me on seen ’

‘ r u kidding me ?!?!?? ’

‘ alr it’s on sight ’

‘ i’m 5 mins away ’

‘ no we’re not baking anymore. i bet ur fingers r sore from texting other bitches all the time ’

‘ 😐 ’

‘ i bet ur head is sore from overthinking too much u delusional ass ’

‘ okay ’

‘ in the most psychotic and obsessive boyfriend way, i miss watching you sleep ’

‘ what ’

‘ i won’t take it back EVER ’

‘ ur so weird ’

‘ yh but u still like me dumbass 💪 ’

‘ unfortunately ’

‘ i want you so bad ’

‘ i’m literally in love with you ’

‘ can i come over? ’

‘ pleaseeeeeeeeer ’

‘ wtf ’

‘ ermmm, i didn’t send that, it was my inner demon or smth ’

‘ sure ’

‘ sure? ’

‘ u can come over, i unlocked the door ’

‘ FUCK YES ’

‘ don’t ever scream shit like that to me again lee heeseung. don’t argue with me ’

‘ GOV NAME?! IT WAS JUST A TINY FIGHT?! ’

‘ well excuse me if our problems are not that important to you. don’t expect dinner tn ’

‘ ARE YOU BANNING ME FROM HAVING FOOD? ’

‘ yh ’

‘ how long? 😓 ’

‘ until i forget i’m mad ’

‘ woman… that could take years ’

‘ don’t talk 2 me like that, who do you think you are ’

‘ uh. your bf ’

‘ whatever ’

‘ do you still love me? ’

‘ what kinda goofy ahh question is that🤣 ’

‘ answer ’

‘ yeah i do, i love you ’

‘ even tho we fight like every 2 minutes? ’

‘ especially because we fight every two mins. seeing u mad turns me on a lot 😓😓😓 ’

‘ wow ’

‘ heyyyy hot beautiful girlfrienddd of mine !!!! 🪤🪤🪤 ’

‘ hey ’

‘ what’s that supposed to mean? ’

‘ are you calling me a rat? ’

‘ what? omg no, i would never ’

‘ 🪤 ’

‘ ?????? ’

‘ doesn’t that cheese look yummy? ’

‘ i’m blocking you ’

‘ so no cheese ? ’

‘ bro ’

‘ i mean ’

‘ hot ass sexy pretty beautiful gorjuss girlfriend on mine ’

‘ gorjuss … ’

‘ let me talk, i got smth important 2 say ’

‘ so this emoji 🫢 ’

‘ it gets like ’

‘ a whole ass new dark meaning ’

‘ when u consider that ’

‘ the hand might not be his ’

‘ but someone who is behind him covering his mouth ’

‘ and jerkign him off ’

‘ wish that was u huh ’

‘ mayhaphs ’

‘ r u free? ’

‘ no ’

‘ okay so u hate me ’

‘ lee heeseung ’

‘ 😭😭😭😭 ’

‘ gf where r u'

‘ i am literally so embarrassed ’

‘ everyone at the restaurant will think my date bailed on me ’

‘ i look so hot rn fr ’

‘ like how could u ever bail on me ’

‘ gf gf gf gf ’

‘ uh. hello y/n? ’

‘ it's been 30 years.... ’

‘ i miss u ’

‘ the winters have grown so long in your absence ’

‘ i fear the crops won't last through the night ’

‘ the chill of this wind... it's so cold.... ’

‘ i shall perish tonight with the last of the corn plants ’

‘ heeseung, i’m looking 4 a space to park, calm down ’

‘ my bad ’

‘ can i tie a ribbon around your bicep? ’

‘ what why? ’

‘ just for smth ’

‘ can i say no? ’

‘ what do you think ’

‘ well damn. ok ’

‘ make it pretty ’

‘ 🤭 ’

EXTRA:

masterlist.

[aquaticmercy]

Blood and Kin

Part 3 of Dark Necessities

Summary : You desperately drank Bucky’s blood when you were starving. You found out that there are consequences to your actions.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire!reader (she/her in mind)

Warnings/tags : Cursing. 

Word count : 2k

Note : Reader is a daywalker like Blade. And yes, I finally turned this into a series! The name Dead Club City is inspired by the Nothing but Thieves album.

I’m starting a taglist for this so let me know if you wanna be on it!

edit: the first couple of hours that this was up I accidentally posted an unrefined draft but now it’s all fixed. Sorry for the mistake!

Eric stood in the doorway, shadows casting hard lines across his forehead. His eyes locked onto you, then moved Bucky, before trailing back to you with a grief that ran bone-deep. 

It was a look you’d never seen on him before, one so intense it seemed to make the walls tremble. Eric’s presence consumed the room, his rage dense, like a storm ready to tear everything in its path.

“Get out,” he growled at John through gritted teeth. For a second, he looked ready to argue. Then he stopped himself, retreating silently. He knew better than to question Blade, than to disagree with him. 

Eric’s face was thunderous, his rage a force that practically sucked the oxygen out of the room. He was livid— no, furious— in a way that was beyond anything you’d ever witnessed from him. The kind of anger that rolled out in waves, accompanied by a piercing stare you could feel through your skin.

He threw your shirts at you and Bucky, not caring if they even hit their mark, like the sight of you both —caught in this moment, bonded in ways he couldn’t forgive— was making him sick.

“You know what a blood bond is?” he spat, the sharpness like venom dripping from every word.

You pulled the shirt over your shoulders with trembling fingers, feeling every ounce of his anger pressing down on you, sinking into your skin like ice. 

“You’re like family to me, kid,” he said, his voice thick with something darker than rage, something akin to despair. “And you kept this— this thing from me?” 

You felt his anger float in the air, clawing its way beneath your skin.

You had nothing to say, no defense against the anger that poured from him. You knew you’d crossed a line and whatever was left between you and Eric was hanging by the barest, most fragile thread.

“I don’t know what this is,” you admitted in a  whisper.

“A Blood Bond is ancient, and it’s unforgiving.” Eric continued, his voice a hollow echo, like a tolling bell. “You think this fucking thing with Barnes is harmless?”

“I didn’t know,” you said, lips quivering, almost desperately this time. You jumped off the sink, feeling your footing steady on the bathroom floor.

Behind you, Bucky stepped forwards, his eyes flashing with a defiance that only seemed to fan the flames of Eric’s  rage.

“Of course you didn’t,” Eric snapped.

Bucky didn’t flinch. If anyone had the right to stand up to Eric, it was him. Eric had walked this earth for almost a hundred years now, so it was easy to forget that Bucky was older. He’d been different people, molded and broken by the cruelty he’d endured, bruised and battered, reprogrammed and reformed. He had seen depths of horror that even Eric hadn’t touched. That defiance in his eyes was forged in a hell, or at least if felt like it.

“She didn’t know,” Bucky said. “I didn’t know either. You can’t just disappear off the face of the earth for a month and blame her for doing the only thing she could have—”

“She should have done anything but this!” Eric’s glare turned on Bucky. The room contained a silent tension that was as volatile as dynamite waiting for a spark.

“Do you even understand what you’re putting her through?” Eric spat, his voice laced with venom. “You’ve tied her fate to yours in a way that can’t be undone. If either of you dies…” His voice cracked slightly, a flash of something softer breaking through before it was replaced with a grim determination. “It’s not just grief that takes over. It’s madness. The kind that drives vampires to tear cities apart, to leave rivers of blood in their wake.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing, his silence a stubborn refusal to give Eric the satisfaction of seeing him falter.

Eric’s expression twisted, a bitter laugh escaping him. “This bond demands everything of you,” he continued, almost to himself, “And it won’t care about your good intentions or the life you’re trying to live.”

You could feel Bucky tense beside you, his fists curling tightly at his sides, the weight of Eric’s words cutting into him as deeply as they were to you. He was warning you, trying to pierce through the wall of denial you had built. He was trying to make you understand what you’d find at the end of this road— blood and ruin.

“I didn't know,” you repeated again, more to yourself than anyone else. There’s been so much information thrown at you, you were struggling to keep up, struggling to process everything.

Eric's voice dropped to a lethal whisper.  “Every account in history ends the same way: with a killing spree committed by one when the other dies. And you two think you’re the exception?”

Bucky’s lips tightened, his gaze fixed and defiant, though a flicker of doubt passed across his face. “I don’t do that anymore,” he said, almost to himself, voice thick with an uncertainty that betrayed him.

Eric stepped closer, voice barely more than a growl. “This bond doesn’t care who you think you are.”

“I didn't fucking know!” You shouted this time, probably enough for John to hear in the other room. Your fingers trembled, tongue lapping up the remnants of Bucky’s blood on your lips.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Eric’s words finally started to sink in, every detail a nail in the coffin. 

Bucky’s hand brushed against yours, intertwining as if you were one.

Eric turned away, rubbing a hand over his jawline. “Tomorrow night, I’ll take you both to Dead Club City,” he said, the words sounding like a promise and a warning all at once. His voice cracked, bitter. “If anywhere has answers, it’s there.”

The name hit you like a blow to the chest. 

Dead Club City. The infamous blood bar, where vampires walked the line between survival and indulgence, drinking cocktails made of animal blood and a synthetic tonic that mimicked human blood.

You’ve been there, but only once. A long time ago.

But Eric’s mention of it was different; his tone made it sound less like a refuge and more like a last-ditch attempt to try and salvage your sanity.

—

That night, the room was wrapped in shadows, softened by the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Bucky sat beside you, watching as you lay deep in sleep, your brows in a gentle furrow. You looked so vulnerable, if only for a few hours. 

It had taken you a while to fall asleep— he could feel your worry in the back of his head through the bond. You were afraid— of Eric’s disapproval. Of disappointing him.

He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering on warmth of your skin. 

You were… everything to Bucky. And that scared him, more than he would ever admit. 

After a moment, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He made his way out of the room. His throat was dry, and only water would help.

The safehouse was silent as Bucky crept down the stairs. He was only halfway to the kitchen when he sensed someone already there, the faintest hum of steady breathing.

Under the dim light, he found Eric standing near the counter, motionless. 

So he couldn’t sleep, either. 

The two of them regarded each other in silence, neither sure of what to say after he caught you on the sink.

Bucky poured himself a glass of water, careful not to make a noise. He was unwilling to break the silent truce that they had.

Eric’s voice coming out low, almost as if he were speaking to himself. 

“Please take care of her, Barnes.” he murmured, “She’s the only one I have left. She’s… like kin to me.”

“Of course,” Bucky set his glass down, meeting Eric’s eyes with a steady look. He could see the unspoken fear that lay beneath the stoic facade of the dhampir. “You don’t even have to ask.”

Eric shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I don’t think you understand...”

“I do,” Bucky turned the tap off, unflinching. “She’s the love of my life.” The words came easily, as if they had been waiting to be said all along. “You’ve seen the things I’d do for her. The things I’d do because of her.”

He paused, a warmth creeping into his voice, his gaze softening as he thought of you asleep upstairs. “She… she gave me back pieces of myself I thought I’d lost forever. She’s not just a bond, Brooks. Not to me.”

Eric sighed, glancing at his own glass of blood replacement serum. He looked up, his voice dropping, almost wistful.

“You know, she wasn’t always like this,” he began, “when I found her, she wasn’t the person you know now. She was feral, half-starved. A teenage daywalker, struggling and dangerous. She… hated me at first. Thought I was just another person trying to control her.” He chuckled, his gaze drifting, as though seeing some distant memory. “She tried to run more times than I could count. Back then, she would have gladly ripped my throat out if she had the chance.”

Bucky listened, surprised but intrigued. He could picture her—wild, defiant, her spirit untamed and her strength untethered, raw. “I can see that,” he murmured with a smile. “The wild part still comes out from time to time.”

Eric nodded. “But she grew up. Somewhere in between all the blood and chaos, she learned discipline. We became… family. She even called me her brother once,” His voice grew quieter, carrying a thread of nostalgia. “I’d like to think I gave her something… something to hold onto when the world was a place she couldn’t belong. I taught her control. I taught her how to fight with honour. I think… you taught her how to love in a way I didn’t even realise she was capable of.”

Bucky felt a pang in his chest, understanding the weight Eric must have carried, watching over you, shaping you into someone who could live in a world that would never fully accept you. He felt the urge to comfort Eric, to tell him that his efforts paid off.

“Did she ever tell you about when I first met her?”  Bucky finally spoke, his voice a touch warmer.

Eric shook his head, looking up for the first time.

“She saved my life. She was working with Man-Thing—Ted—on some mission in the middle of nowhere when we crossed paths.” Bucky chuckled, “They were tracking a rogue werewolf. And Ted, well…” Bucky laughed softly, shaking his head. “Ted was dead on his feet from lack of sleep. He was useless that night.”

Eric raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “She was doing all the heavy lifting?”

Bucky nodded. “I was barely aware of what was happening before she’d taken down that werewolf. I didn’t even know what hit me—just this blur of speed. She shocked me that night.” He looked down, a faint smile touching his lips as he remembered. “And that was it. I knew I was done for.”

Finally, Eric sighed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “I think… I think she’s better for having you.” He looked away, almost reluctantly. “I didn’t think anyone else could understand what she means to me. But maybe in a different way— you do.”

They stood in silence for a little longer. Each held a different piece of your story, cherished you in their own way. They both knew you were in the best hands you could possibly be— even if you were fully capable of protecting yourself.

Before turning back to go upstairs, Bucky’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What’s waiting for us at Dead Club City?” he asked.

“Someone who will understand,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky took one last glance at him, nodding. 

Eric stayed, watching the soldier return to you with something that hadn’t been there before— a flicker of trust. 

Bucky slipped into bed beside you after taking a sip of water. You curled into him, still fast asleep. The tension in your brow had softened. Your face was peaceful, utterly serene. He could feel it, too— how you were resting easier now.

Watching you, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if you could sense Eric’s newfound approval echoing through his mind— like a reassuring pulse through the bond.

-to be continued…

[unlikelycupcaketrash]

You want more?

I gotchu

(It’s all Danny and Lancer with the Waynes crack) (probably)

New rare pare just dropped??? Why do I kinda love Bruce/lancer

what is Mr lancers first name?? *one google search later* we don’t know but it starts with an L :/

I dub thee: Lucas

Lucas “Luke” Lancer (hell yeah, alliteration!)

So anyway Tim and Danny meet and are suspicious of each others odd behavior but ultimately end up with a more or less “I don’t ask questions about where you sneak off to and your spontaneously unimportant injuries and you don’t ask about me and mine yeah? Alr.” Type relationship, and actually hang out a lot.

The first few times Tim asked Danny about that Danny would always say that “you haven’t unlocked enough of my backstory” and move on. Tim doesn’t like this but he gave up on trying because he cant find anything weird about his paper trail and Danny’s a chill guy so it’s probably fine, I mean it not like he’s a vigilante right?

In the show his top speed was 112 mph so ima say he keeps improving his speed as he goes back n forth from Gotham to amity because let’s be so fr Valarie is handling most of the ghosts but there are some nights where it gets too much and she hast to call in backup, and by some nights I mean twice a month at least. What can I say? Amity park ghosts are mean and don’t care about your education

After Jason gets back whatever plot shenanigans you want make it so that lancer is checking up on Danny at the same time Jason has to pick up Tim for whatever and Jason recognizes Lucas but he doesn’t recognize jay yet (he will later), see where I’m going with this? Ok so they get talking (the literature nerds) and Jason decides to double down on shipping Luke with Bruce. Bruce could seriously use the normal and positive influence and hey he’s good with kids so why not? It’ll be funny!

How could he do this the most efficiently, effectively and flamboyantly?? A gala probably, but first Bruce and lancer need to be to the level of friends where they would interact/maybe even seek each other out at a high society event, so *sigh* I guess he’s going to have to invite Danny and lancer to a family dinner or something, but he’s not close enough to either of them do do that without it being weird! His whole plan is falling apart!

Oh Timmy!!!!!~~ has Jason ever mentioned that your his favorite brother?? and he’ll give you his desert at the monthly family dinners for three months if you do this one little thing for him?

So Danny ends up being invited to a Wayne dinner and oh Mr. Lancer you come in too, you came all this way, we insist! (He realizes Jason is Jason Wayne at the dinner btw)

Tim is floundering around Danny because this is the first time Danny looks well rested and with actually styled but also messy hair and what the fuck that’s his roommate! He has no right to look this cute! Tim can see his freckles instead of the ever-present eye-bags and-! wait what why is his heart beating so fast, he’s been trained by the bat! A cute boy should not be able to affect him as much as it is. He need to do some more heart rate exercises because why is Danny so cute all of a sudden and maybe it’s one of his meta powers? No they’re roommates, they live together, he would’ve noticed, and now he’s spiraling but he can’t really stop and-

Bruce is similarly struggling but he can deal with it by being such a clueless bimbo and tired dad because why are so many of his kids here? It’s not even the monthly dinner yet? Is it because of Danny and Lucas? It probably is, he should invite them over more, jay is here and talking passionately about whatever lit thing with Lucas and he will totally invite Luke over more, I mean see how much he cares about his kids? Gah he’s just so perfect- wait what?

DCxDP: The Roomate

Despite all their madness, it's no secret in Amity Park that the Fentons are certified geniuses. When Maddie and Jack Fenton first move to town, they are all anyone can talk about.

Maddie was well known among women because, at the time, women in STEM were rare, and it was even rarer for them to actually gain recognition for their efforts. Her work, confusing to most of the public, meant a lot to the women in Amity Park.

Before she arrived, she had been featured in three separate magazines: one for science, another for sponsoring a scholarship for STEM women, and the last for her inventions of self-defense accessories to arm young women. Yes, most didn't know about her until they learned that she was moving into their small town, but that was beside the point.

Her husband was a little less known, but it came as no surprise that he was also said to be rumored as a well-educated man. He had two PhDs. Two.

At the time, almost everyone in Amity Park had a high school diploma, the highest degree level of the masses. Sure, some well-off families could send their children four towns away to the closest college, but it was rare.

It was also a privilege—a means to show off at the annual street market, where the proud mothers would smugly describe their children's dorm rooms or majors to the tightly smiling neighbors.

In the early eighties, having a higher education made people appear more respected, and here was Jack Fenton, a man who had two Ph.D.s and was rumored to be working on his third. The man who had bought out the old Steward faculty building by the main street was having a crew removed into a home/laboratory.

Everyone buzzed for weeks about the new neighbors, and sharing any new details about them was exciting. It may be strange to people outside their little town, but with a population size of at least five thousand (at least in the eighties when the Fentons arrived. and the population grew well into the thousands when Axion Labs was built), news of changes was rare and few in between.

Amity Park didn't have big-shot names on their roads, much less stay to live. Heck, they only recently started getting a carnival to go by, and that was at least seventeen years since the Fentons moved in.

So, it was no surprise that Fenton's daughter showed just as large a brain as she did. Yes, the Fentons were less academic types than they were expecting, showing a rather odd obsession with the paranormal, but no one could deny their ability to build anything.

The Fenton boy was the only one who didn't live up to the family name. Danny was on the right path until Freshman year, when his grade rapidly dropped to the bottom of his class, he vanished for hours on end and went into destructive fits randomly.

He has been found among enough rooms ripped apart to know that Fenton was out of control. School staff spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Fenton often, and the two parents genuinely seemed to take their conversations to heart, attempting to instill better behavior within Danny.

Nothing seems to work. No grounding, detentions, community work, or group meetings seem to get through the boy's head. The Fentons were at their wit's end with their youngest. Mrs. Fenton, fretting that her son had never behaved like this.

Then, ghost attacks started appearing around the same time to make things worse. While the town laughed at them at first, everyone quickly realized the Fentons were one of the few who could provide defense against the ghosts. Throughout more and more attacks, the people started to defer to the Fentons in times of crisis.

The people who once booed them now rallied around them, and it took no time for everyone to acknowledge that the Fentons were now among the highest in the town's social ladder.

That came with some benefits.

"Are you sure this would help Danny?" Maddie asks, staring at the pamphlet in obvious doubt.

"Mrs. Fenton, I assure you that I would not have recommended Daniel for the program if I didn't think it would help him," Mr. Lancer responds with great patience. "It is apparent that he is dealing with something that needs more support than the school staff can provide."

"But to send him away?" Jack cuts in, looking close to tears.

"Don't think of it as sending him away. Think of it as putting him in an environment that can help him. Frankly, Daniel is struggling here. He's been having more and more destructive fits, his teachers have noticed he's paying less and less attention in class, and a few students have even approached me saying he seems to be hiding weapons in his bag."

"Weapons?" Maddie gasps. "Our Danny?"

"Rest assured, we have done searches and investigations as these accusations are not accepted without reason. Daniel does not seem to have any on him, but I worry he may be facing severe bullying if children were willing to lie about something so serious." Mr. Lacner sooth swiftly. He sighed, leaning back in his seat as neither adult looked particularly happy by his words. "The staff and I attempt to step in when we can, but bullies always find ways to slip past us. For example, bothering him off campus. I just think Daniel will be better away from those causing him harm, especially if he really is dealing with a previously unknown mental illness."

He pulls out more pamphlets, one with testimonies from previous program participants. When Lancer left Amity Park for college, he never planned to return. He got his teaching degree alongside his associates in English and History.

Lancer had taught at a different school, a more well-known and better-funded school, but he missed his small town. He missed the neighborly people, the less noise, and Amity's clean, crisp air. He found himself quitting his Gotham Academy job in Grades six to eight, moved back home, and attempted to drag Casper High out of its failing pit.

He still struggled as the school couldn't find enough teachers. He taught four different subjects—math, History, English, and Science—whenever he could, and there was almost no funding.

But Casper High was slowly getting better every year due to the connections Lancer had made in his seven-year tenure as a Gotham Acadamy Professor. One of these connections was the father of his favorite English student.

Bruce Wayne.

Mr. Wayne attended every single one of Jason's plays, and as the Drama Club sponsor, Mr. Lancer would chat with him. Most people knew Wayne was an airhead, but Wayne was delightful to be around. Like Mr. Lancer, he cared deeply about education and always took the teacher's suggestions to bring up at PTA meetings.

When Lancer chose to move back to Amity, Jason was devastated and insisted he had Bruce's number. It was heavily implied that the board wanted Lancer gone due to his "questionable" teaching plan—he tried to teach empathy a little too much, according to some parents—and the boy thought his sudden departure was due to this.

Mr. Wayne assured him if he had been let go or pressured into leaving, he would provide Lancer with an entire team of lawyers. Touching as it was, Lancer assured them he was leaving on his own accord.

He contacted Mr. Wayne, asking for advice on how to apply for school grants or any other tips the billionaire could give him. The man was the most involved Father Lancer had ever met, including fundraising and supporting art programs.

Casper High had been this close to removing Band, Drama, Cheerleading, soccer, and Baseball because it needed more money to afford them. Not to mention all the other clubs that had vanished when Lancer was a Casper student. Bruce was happy to help him save the programs for the students.

It was the main reason Lancer was made vice principal so quickly. He was basically keeping Casper High running.

Two years later, he heard the news that Jason had been murdered. It shattered Lancer's heart. He went to the funeral and watched Mr.Wayne slowly fall apart. Even as he returned home, he tried to reach out to the man whenever he could.

It may have felt different to the other man, but Lancer always thought they were friends. Eventually, Mr. Wayne bounced back—never forgot—from Jason's death, and slowly, the gap between them was reconnected.

The reason for Mr. Wayne's mental recovery was the one that suggested this program. He had personally invited Mr. Lancer to send Daniel.

"Tim Drake is a brilliant boy," Mr. Lancer continued, watching the two couples struggle to decide. "His team is filled with trained psychologists, he has the facilities to deal with Meta children, and Daniel won't be uncomfortable rooming with him as a teenager himself."

Maddie looks at Jack, but while she sees the hurt in his eyes, she also sees his resolve. "Alright, we'll send Danny to the Meta Mentoring Program. It's what's best."

"I'll let Mr. Drake know he'll have a roommate."

[apdreadful]

Since the election I have deactivated some of my social media. Blocked some people I never should have ever engaged with to begin with, and unfollowed several accounts on IG that just don’t bring me joy.

And 911onabc was one.

Is it because Buck & Tommy didn’t end together? No. I’m a grown ass adult. I can be irritated by the something and not be dramatic or hateful about it.

It was because several storylines lately have been complete bullshit.

They start strong with solid good storytelling. But then..eh we’re bored. Only whatever we do absolutely can not make sense!

The lazy fucking way they wrote Christopher’s character out, and that weird ass doppelgänger storyline.

New season? Let’s start by putting Bobby and Athena through to some major disaster! Hey it worked last season! Let’s do it again! (Do not even get me started on that fucking drug cartel shit..what the hell even was that??)

We are only allowed to have one character or couple drama free at a time. And if we can’t come up with a plausible way to create discord or havoc, we’ll just do some stupid shit instead!

Spend several seasons showing the deep strong bond between Eddie and Christopher. Gavin’s family moves? Just make it something dumb..but fast! I know let’s have him get mad at his dad and ask to move in with his grandparents!! Never mind he’d never do that!

The amount of psychological trauma they have inflicted on Maddie. The near death experiences of Chimney. Jesus. Just what tf?

Hmmm. Karen and Hen..the fans would revolt if we broke them up. So let’s go after their kids!! And we can’t make it about them being gay! Let’s create this over the top villain Councilwoman Ortiz. Who’s the mother of that drunk coked up dude from the accident. Only we absolutely cannot have Hen or anyone defend what happened or shut that shit down by saying “Your son was a fucking menace and maybe if you hadn’t kept covering for him he would have gotten some fucking help and not caused an accident.” Also do not mention Hen was cleared of all wrong doing. Nope. Logic has no place here!

Ok so the fans have been clamoring for Buddie. But Eddie Diaz is straight. Period.

So hey! Let’s make Buck bisexual. And tell everyone we are getting him off the hamster wheel (because really, we’ve given him the emotional depth of a teaspoon for a while now)..And his love interest/boyfriend should be Tommy Kinard, who used to work at the 118, and we will invest time to give him a compelling backstory, and lay a ton of Easter eggs showing how richly we can mine this pairing and these characters.

And make them HAPPY for several episodes. Blissfully in love. And then totally out of the blue, let’s break them up. But the reason has to be complete bullshit, totally against character out of left field BULLSHIT. Like they should start out the episode great and about 80 percent in..wait! Let’s also make him the SAME Tommy Abbie from season one was engaged to before she started banging Buck! And then let’s make Tommy who is so into Buck it’s palpable, dump him because he’s afraid of getting his heart broken! Even though it’s one of the most tired, overdone, stupid tropes ever!!

Yeah. I don’t know WTF is going on in the writers room I would swear it’s like there’s this talented group of writers who start stories, and then they go out in Wilshire Blvd and ask some random person on the street to write the ending, but they have to do it, right there in the next 20 minutes.

No I am not going to stop watching 911 forever. I just don’t really want to see them on my IG. This last stunt, sparked only incredulity and scorn.

[stevenose]

for anonymous - thank you for voting!!! hope you like this hehe <3

contains: love drunk!steve; gender unspecified reader; flirting; s4!steve

He’s practically drooling. If he were someone else, he would call himself pathetic - even if he knows he is. Steve licks his lips, watching you reach high for a tape, your shirt riding up a little.

“Are you serious?”

He can’t hear Robin, or maybe he just doesn’t want to. Loves her, but pretty boy duty calls.

“Steve!”

“Huh?” he finally asks, turning to face her.

“Have you even heard a single thing I’ve said in the last —“ She checks her watch. “Three minutes?”

“You were talking for three minutes?” he asks, startled.

“Oh my God, Steve.” She’s pissed. And he feels bad, but he knows she’ll be fine in five minutes, and probably even better if he fucks up while checking you out at the counter. “You’re such a bonehead.”

He rolls his eyes and looks back at you. You’re looking at him, all amused. He feels so deeply seen, like you shouldn’t even be looking at him, like he doesn’t really deserve the attention.

“Sorry,” you say. Your voice sounds so sweet. “I just haven’t heard someone say ‘bonehead’ in a while.”

“He is,” Robin says flatly.

You smile at him and his knees feel weak. “I’m sure.”

You continue browsing. Robin looks at Steve. “You are a bonehead,” she affirms, grabbing a cart of tapes to put them away.

Steve feels all dizzy. He’s seen hot people in the store, but this is different. You’re straight out of a dream. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t seen you before. You’re about his age, but he doesn’t remember you from high school. Not that three concussions haven’t ruined his memory.

He perks up when you come to check out. Steve has no small talk in his mind for your selections. His brain feels frozen and it reminds him of his time at Scoops a year earlier.

“Do I know you?” he asks. It comes out awkwardly.

“I don’t think so,” you say. “I’m just - I’m here visiting some family, and I have to babysit.” You point at the two animated movies you’d chosen. “So, no, I don’t think so.”

“Babysit?” he says. “I babysit, too.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” he says. Now he’s spitballing. “They’re little shits though. Always dragging me into things I don’t want dragged into. But they’re sweet, I guess. Except one of them.”

You nod politely.

He wants to hang himself with film strips.

“Well, if I need help, I’ll definitely call you.”

Finally, an opening. “You’d need my number to do that, huh?”

Now you’re frazzled. Thank God. “I guess so.”

“How long are you in town for?”

You bite your cheek. “Another week.”

Steve hums. “I say we take our kids, drop ‘em off at the arcade, and head to the movies ourselves.”

You laugh, looking at him like he’s crazy. Your eyes are soft, though, and your smile is genuine. “Seems irresponsible.”

“Self indulgent, maybe.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before realizing you need to pay. You mumble and search your bag for your wallet, sliding a five across the counter. “Sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m a little frazzled.”

“I have that effect on people.” Oh, he’s so back. He grabs your change, slipping it back to you.

“Want your receipt?”

You read between the lines. “Sure.”

He grins and snatches the paper from the register, scrawling his number across the top. He writes his name before realizing he never said it out loud. “Oh! I’m Steve, by the way.”

You give him yours and take the receipt from him. “Nice to meet you.”

He nods, waves as you leave, heart thumping. He collapses against the counter once you’re out of sight, head in his hands.

“A week,” Robin says, startling him. “You gonna have a whirlwind romance or something?”

“Maybe,” he says.

She scoffs. “You’ve been watching too many movies.”

[paranoiddreams]

Random Headcannons: Yuji✰

ღ Warnings!! - Sukuna is a whole tw, some of them are a little suggestive but in a goofy way (?), me just yapping tbh, explicit language, mentions of Drake😖, marijuana use🍃, ADHD mentions, he’s kinda brainrotted okay?

ღ A/n!! - Some may be ooc to yall but this is how I see him in my head tbh😭 I’m just going off of vibes. Lmk who you want next! Requests for any fandom on my navi are always welcome!! I’m also working on a longer fic rn, so to that anon who sent a Sukuna request (yk who you are), it’s coming soon🫵🏻😈

Masterlist | navi

Was so invested in the Kendrick Lamar vs. Drake situation Imao. He knew everything that happened from when it started to when it unofficially ended.

Yaps about it to anyone who will listen, and let’s be honest, everyone will because he's such a charming guy

Might just be me, but I feel strongly that Yuji had an emo phase in his middle schools years. I'm talking My Chemical Romance kinda emo, yk, the freaky ones

Not speaking out of experience or anything haha😶‍🌫️

Does actually love J law, and will watch compilations on YouTube at 3 am. What can he say? He's a loyal man.

He watches CaseOh 100% and does have notifs for him on

Chronic iPad kid, it's bad

And to make things worse he can't eat without watching anything (like most of us let's be fr)

He uses the excuse that "kings have always had entertainment while they feast back in the day, what's the difference?”

Sukuna literally couldn't be more ashamed to be in this gen z brainrot teenager's body.

DOES NOT play around when it comes to a Roblox tycoon. Don't cross ma boy in his tycoons.

Actually talks to Sukuna telepathically(?) sometimes. Like when he's bored he'll just-

"Sukuna, do you actually have two dicks?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Most likely listens to Tame Impala, Cuco, Suicideboy$, maybe even a little Pierce the veil time to time. Also loves K-pop and girl groups like BTS, New Jeans, and ENHYPHEN.

His biases are Jungkook, Hanni, & Jake :3

Considered using his hand mouth thing to jerk off one time, but was swiftly turned away from the idea when Sukuna heard him think of it and told him he'd kill him instantly : (

Smokes 🍃 every once in a while when he has a weekend free

He’s a talker when he’s high fs

Will go off about conspiracy theories, and this sounds cliche, but istg he would do this shi

He’s a genuine conspiracy theorist when he’s sober too tbh

But Indica gets him talking🤝

I kinda wrote abt this in one of my requests, but I think that Yuji is a huge fan of getting scared and just having that thrill

Haunted houses, scary movies, music, stories, he loves all of it.

I mean, Gojo made him watch like one million bajillion (real) movies, so ofc he’s grown a fondness for anything over the top disturbing/cheesy

He’s one of those people who’s annoyingly good at everything he tries on the FIRST try.

He doesn’t mean to, but he will one up anyone he’s in the room with😭

Yuji DOES NOT fuck with Xbox, he’s a PlayStation girlie✨

He has a thing for chubby girls 😶‍🌫️ just dropping this here bc I may or may not have smth in the works…

He’d be able to make friends with a roach in the corner of the room, he’s such a caring, compassionate guy, but we already knew this.

Gives ADHD realness

Has definitely called Gojo ‘dad’ by accident a few times before.

Strikes me as the type to flirt and not even realize…

F2L &/or grumpy x sunshine vibes all the way!!!

[in1-nutshell]

Fearless is still crying about Alabaster and Megs finds out. cut to the scavengers freaking the fuck out because holy shit Megatron is about to bust down their door and all because their newest member catfished his kid.

Finally!

Definitely going to be doing a long version of this in the future

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless and Alabaster

SFW, Platonic, Angst, Hinted romance, Human reader

MTMTE

There had been a noticeable change on the Lost Light.

It was the behavior of the ship’s resident human, Fearless.

Ever since their no show to trivia night, and the sudden sick day they took after, they had been… quiet.

Their demeanor reminded the original crew members how they acted the first few days on the ship.

More composed, stiffer, more neutrality in their tone, more… robotic.

Magnus: “I do believe that concludes today’s meeting.” Fearless wordlessly starts packing up their things. Rodimus: “Hey Fearless, there’s karaoke night over at Swerve’s. You wanna team up for tonight’s duo performance?” Fearless: “I’m afraid I cannot tonight, Captain. There are too many reports to fill in after Whirl’s last escape from the brig. Have a good night.” Fearless tries to leave the room before Megatron stands in their way. Fearless: “Megatron, is there something you need?” Megatron: “I need assistance in getting the classes grades in the system.” Fearless: “Just send the work to my mail and I will get to it. Good night.” Fearless wordlessly goes around the mech and makes their way to their habsuite. Rodimus: “Nothing?” Magnus: “Anything? Megatron sighs: “Nothing.”

The human barely interacted with the bots and always headed back to their room as soon as they finished their tasks for the day.

The only other bot on board who had the slightest idea what was going on was Whirl.

But even he refused to say much.

Mainly because all he knew was that he needed to pummel someone who made Fearless sob up a storm and he didn’t even have a name!

Whenever he wasn’t in the brig, Whirl became a bodyguard of sorts.

Always watching Fearless surroundings for any sign that the bot who did this was on board.

Megatron had tried to talk to them, but even that left fruitless.

Megatron is sitting next to Fearless in the empty classroom. Megatron: “There is something you are not telling me.” Fearless stays silent. Megatron: “… I will not force you to talk, you can come to me when you are ready… but remember the crew, that I am here to listen when you wish to speak.” Fearless’s eyes gloss a bit, but they bite their tongue and leave the grey mech alone. Megatron looks at his child sadly but decides to trust what Rung had advised him to do. Don’t force it, let them come to you.

Megatron didn’t like seeing his kid like this.

Even Rung tried coaxing Fearless into having a private session to figure out what was going on.

And to many surprises, Fearless denied it.

The human was always advocating for the bots to go see Rung and went to him too.

But to suddenly not want to go?

This was bad.

It would be a month into this state when the Lost Light would get an unexpected visit from the WAP.

Maybe the visit of the Scavenger’s would cheer them up.

There were two things that the crew noticed immediately.

1. The scavengers had a new crewmate

2. They looked tense, especially the new crewmate.

Fearless arrives with Megatron and Magnus. Rodimus was already talking with the Scavengers. Rodimus looks over at the three. Rodimus: “Magnus, Megatron, Fearless, you remember the Scavengers, right? Well, they have a new member!” The bot steps forward stiffly and greets the bots. Alabaster: “My designation is Alabaster Lapis.” Fearless just looked at him with a surprised look. Fearless: “…Nice to meet you.” The bots detected a bit of hostility in the human. Rodimus: “How about we head to Swerve’s for some drinks? I think he has a new variety of mixes.” Megatron glances questionably at Fearless who looks ahead, not making contact with anyone.

Everyone dispersed once they got to the bar.

Many of the crew were surprised to see Fearless out and about for the first time in a month.

That comment caught Alabaster’s attention feeling the guilt rack up.

Alabaster saw a shooing motion from Misfire and Spinister before he reached the bar where Fearless was sitting.

He ordered a drink and sat beside them in silence.

They both knew they were delaying the inevitable… but maybe this could work in their favor

It was very awkward between the pair.

Fearless asked if his crew new about it.

Alabaster blinked before stating that they heard the conversation… and thoroughly beat him over the helm with his stupid mistakes.

Fearless chuckled a bit after hearing that Grimlock had swung his tail and had him dented on the side of the ship.

His spark fluttered a bit.

It had been a while since he heard their laughter.

This was a win.

Fearless looked around and asked him to grab them, they knew a place on the ship that would give them privacy.

They made their way to the oil reservoir.

That’s where Fearless mask dropped.

They looked at him with a mixture or sadness, frustration, anger, and something else. Fearless: “I thought we agreed in 3 more days. Or is there something else your not telling me about?” Alabaster: “We recently had repairs on an organic planet. They boosted our thruster systems.” Fearless: “And you didn’t think on telling me because…” Alabaster sighed and sat on the edge of the platform, his pedes dangling above the oil below. Alabaster: “I… I didn’t think it was important. We were already meeting each other; it was only 3 days. Those pass by in a blink of an optic.” Fearless huffs standing beside him but with an ample amount of space in between them. Fearless: “In case you forgot, time means something different to ‘organics’. If you need a reality check, we die much earlier than Cybertronians.” Alabaster: “…I know…” Fearless winces a bit at his defeated tone. Maybe they crossed a line. Fearless sits down on the edge, mimicking his stance. Fearless: “…Well… here we are…” Alabaster: “Here we are…” Silence… Fearless: “Why did you keep it on for so long?” Alabaster: “… I didn’t want to lose you.” Fearless: "would it matter if you did?” Alabaster looks at them with a serious expression. Alabaster: “Most defiantly.” He sighs softening his gaze. Alabaster: “I care about you, a lot. More than I want to admit it really. If there was a chance that you hated Cybertronian’s…” Fearless places a hand on one of his digits. Alabaster looks at them a bit surprised. Fearless smiles a bit. Fearless: “I’d be a pretty crummy friend if I did.” Alabaster: “So…” Fearless: “Well, the whole lying and the technical ‘catfishing’ is going to leave a mark.” Alabaster winces a bit at the sharpness in their voice. Fearless: “…But I don’t mind trying this friendship thing all over again.” Alabaster smiles a bit. Fearless stands up and offers him their hand. Fearless: “I’m Fearless.” Alabaster gently shakes their hand. Alabaster: “My name is Alabaster Lapis. You can call me Alabaster or Aster for short.” Fearless and Alabaster smile at each other.

The pair eventually made it back to Swerve’s where everyone else was.

The Scavengers were relieved to see the two in much better spirits and it was safe to assume that the two had talked it out.

The lost light crew looked over that the new mech who had Fearless perched on his shoulder.

It had been a month since Fearless had smiled that widely.

They looked almost like their usual self, a bit tired and drained but much better looking than last time.

Fearless made sure to give the Scavenger’s all goodbyes when they had to leave.

Fearless waves at the WAP as it leaves. Fearless sighs and looks behind them. Everyone is looking at them. Fearless: “Uhhh…” Whirl: “What did that bot do to you?” Fearless: “What?” Whirl: “I just got out of the brig to see you and that other guy smiling. You haven’t done that in weeks.” Megatron: “What whirl means to say is that we are all happy to see that you have moved from your depressive state… but we are curious to what happened.” Fearless looked at the direction of the WAP. They were safe enough. Fearless: “Okay… but you all have to SWEAR not to do ANYTHING drastic or harmful.” The bots look around confused. Fearless: “All right, here goes…” Hopefully things did not go off the rails… Oh, who were they kidding, this was the Lost Light, going off the rails happened every other day. On the WAP... Alabaster suddenly shudders. Alabaster: “I feel like I’m in danger…”

alabaster feeling the rage of the Lost Light thousand miles away

[arcgayne]

my reasoning:

(these rankings are based on multiple criteria, such as relatability, hotness, relevance, how interesting they are as a character, and so on and so forth).

1) Jinx: she’s literally me. so silly and mentally unstable. needs therapy so bad and it shows. i fucking love her. please get help queen

2) Ekko: literally has never done anything wrong ever. moral compass strong as fuck. bonus points for looking cool. he’s also literally me but jinx wins over him bc she’s more unhinged.

3) Viktor: my fucking beloved. Do I want to be him? Do I want to be with him? Realistically I want neither of these things but unrealistically I need this man in ways even the hexcore couldn’t comprehend.

4) Mel: God I fucking love a powerful smart beautiful woman. AND she has mommy issues? she’s literally perfect. i’m rotating her in my head as we speak

5) Vi: hot tragic lesbian. almost lost points for becoming a cop but then she quit so it’s all good. for now. I have knowledge about what she ends up doing bc of the video game and I am currently choosing to ignore it in favor of the show timeline. Let me dream.

6) Sevika: hot. muscles. vodka aunt. hot. emotionally unavailable. hot. did i mention hot

7) grayson: i think it’s hilarious that she ranks higher than everyone else below her on this list. she literally only gets points for being attractive. especially her voice like ugghhh. what else can i say.

8) sky: perfect angel. so fucking smart and cool. deserves better. i need to know more about her or i will actually explode. hearing her voice made me so happy y’all have no idea

9) powder: baby. deserves the world. only ranks lower bc she doesn’t exactly “exist” anymore or whatever. justice for powder AND jinx 2025

10) caitlyn: hot. but ew cop moment. the fact that her sympathy for zaunites was crushed so easily really annoys me. like girl do you even have principles. ur revenge era would be cool if it wasn’t police brutality like noooo caitlyn pls don’t let a dictator use you to further destabilize your country for her own gain you’re so sexyyy ahaha… idk man it’s complicated. she should quit her job and get a new one. and then get therapy.

11) Jayce: he’s interesting in that he is a good example of a privileged person attempting to make things better by utilizing the system, only to get sucked into said system, becoming part of it and therefore part of the problem. the road to hell is paved with good intentions. his intentions are so good and yet. he is idiot. I hope Ekko and heimydingy are able to lessen his idiocy.

12) ambessa: hooottttttttttt. so fucking hot. goddamn. have y’all SEEN the music video for blood sweat and tears. i’m fucking FERAL. unfortunately for her, looks aren’t everything and she’s the fucking worst so here we are.

13) elora: beautiful powerful wonderful woman. need more of her. what is her life like. have she and mel ever kissed. much to think about here.

14) heimerdinger: he’s annoying and he doesn’t take the much needed time to explain why he makes the decisions he’s making... but he’s also right. which i hate because he’s annoying. but i also like that he’s annoying because it shows the very true fact that ppl who are annoying can in fact be right about things. also his heist with ekko was funny and endearing so he has that going for him. ekko carried tho ngl

15) vander: he’s cool cuz he’s a swag dad. a kind man and a protective guy. all around a great dude tbh. ranks lower because he doesn’t have any particularly interesting character traits to me.

16) finn: he looks cool as fuck but isn’t relevant and is also kind of an annoying brat. which is funny but like also bro. stop.

17) ximena: literally lost some of her fingers to frostbite to protect her baby child kid son. based. i love her.

18) cassandra: milf. the scene with the her and the gun? cool as fuck. ranks lower bc, again, not very relevant. and also dead lol

19) tobias: imma be honest idrc abt tobias at all i just didn’t want to separate him from his wife. he has enough of that in the show LOL

20) claggor: sweet boy. deserved better. i wonder what he would be like now if he’d been able to grow up.

21) silco: morally i hate this guy but he’s also a fascinating character. he’s cool as fuck and a bitch. plus he does eyeball drugs. there are so many fucked up things about this dude i can’t list them all. overall he’s a very well done character and an absolutely fantastic villain. what a piece of work.

22) benzo: just an all around good dude. ranks low bc he’s extremely irrelevant. sorry dude. if this was a morals contest he’d obv be ranked higher, but it’s not, so here we are.

23) jericho: had to look him up LOLLLL thanks for making food for vi i guess. people who make food for other people are the best. that being said he ranks low because, again, irrelevant.

24) mylo: cringe fail asshole. not ranked last bc he was a kid, so i can give him the benefit of the doubt, cuz maybe he would’ve been a better person as an adult… but also he never got to be one so oops lol get ranked low loser

25) singed: brother euughhh. i like drugs too but not THAT much. maybe give this man some backstory and i’ll care about him. as it stands rn idgaf about this guy. i rebuke thee, get AWAY

26) marcus: fucking piece of shit rat. fuck this guy. selfish coward and i hate him forever. die

Here's a fun little sorter I put together for Arcane characters! Reblog with your list!

Let the sorting commence!

[ihearthes]

Abbey Road Studios:

A Harry Styles Meet Cute

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Original Unnamed Female Character

Rating: Fluffy Meet Cute

Word Count: 3439

“You’re shitting me?” I gaped at my manager. “THE Abbey Road Studios? How did you…? When am I…? What the actual fuck?” 

Her grin across the desk was wider than a grand piano. “When I talked to the publishers about the audiobook, I assured them that being in the quintessential studio where the Beatles recorded The End would lead to a more inspired audiobook recording of your book The End.” 

Leaping out of my chair, I rushed around her desk and hugged her tighter than a guitar string nearing its breaking point. Her laughter was rich, the hearty kind that could be served with both a spoon and a fork. Maybe even a knife thrown in for good measure. 

“I’ll make you proud,” I vowed before releasing her and returning to the other side of the sparse wooden desk with its ornate carvings on each of the four legs.

“You already have,” she grinned. “After all, you have the most popular music podcast in the world.” Her statement was a major overstatement. Although my 2 year old podcast Time Machine Tunes was growing, it was barely in the top 100 music podcasts. Maggie was convinced the book would drive more listeners my way. “This book is going to be the icing on the cake of your popularity. You’re going places, kid.” 

While I could have managed without the ‘kid’ tacked onto every sentence the 72-year-old American dynamo spoke about me, I was keenly aware that I still had a long way to go in establishing my career as a historical music writer. Without Maggie fighting on my behalf, I would still be shopping my manuscript to publishers. Meticulously researched despite the subjects not honouring me with an interview, my book was garnering buzz from the musical world before the final manuscript was even sent to the publisher. 

“If you’ve heard the author’s podcast, you’ll understand her fascination with the greatest band of all time. You’ve heard the stories of how they ended, but this book delves more deeply into the stories surrounding their breakup,” read the promotional blurb written by Cameron Crowe. 

Maggie never would tell me how she managed to convince the great Cameron Crowe to write a blurb for my book, but I suspect it had something to do with the past she never mentions, likely involving a stint as a groupie in the late sixties. 

Days later, the popular zebra crossing was laid out before me with a steady stream of fans lined up to record their personal rendition of the most famous band photograph ever taken. I took a deep breath. In one tote bag, I carried my favourite teas, biscuits, and a bag of fresh fruit. The other tote bag held a copy of my bound manuscript with notes written in the margins of how I want to sound when I read certain parts of the text aloud. Places to pause were marked in pink highlighter. Sentences to be spoken with more emphasis were underlined. The usual. 

This is how I prepare for my podcast, so I shouldn't have felt as strange as I did. At the bottom steps of the studio, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and whispering to myself, “Just act normal.” 

My fingers pressed on the wooden door, and it surprisingly opened at my touch. Inside was a reception desk with a stony-faced twenty-something female sitting behind it, tapping lightly on the keyboard keys, and a security guard wearing a uniform that must have weighed double the young man wearing it. 

“No tours. The shop is next door, Miss,” the receptionist politely used her pen to point the way. 

Gulping air, I nodded, then spoke in a rush. “I’m here to record. I mean, I have an appointment. I mean I’ve – my manager, really – has reserved a studio for me.” 

So much for acting normal. 

“Which studio?” 

“The Front Room?” I ventured. 

She tapped her pen on the book in front of her before shrewdly surveying me from head to toe. “Oh yes. Hand over your ID please so we can verify your identity.” 

I fumbled my way through my pocketbook, seeking the one item that always seemed to fall to the bottom, no matter how large or small my bag might be. Just as I felt the leather of the small wallet touch my fingers, it slipped away again until I finally had to set the bag on her desk to more effectively dig through it. In triumph, I finally withdrew the offending item, raising it above my head. 

The security guard simply stared at me until I freed my licence from its card slot, handing it over with a flourish. With a brusque nod, he took it from me with two fingers, exiting the room to another office. 

“Should I – follow him?” I inquired, my voice a combination of shaky and firm. 

“No.” Her reply was curt. 

Minutes later, he emerged, handing me back my licence before directing me to another door. “That’s the Front Room. The team is waiting for you.” 

My insides quivered like a bowl of elderflower jelly as I took the steps necessary to walk to the identified door. 

“Ta!” I waved to the front office team before opening the studio door and stepping inside. Closing the door behind me, I slumped against it, eyes closed, and whispered, “You daft git.” Because of course I would see them again. Soon probably. And every day for the week while I would be recording. 

“Excuse me?” The voice caused me to stand up straight. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean you.” My eyes took in the slight man standing before me in blue jeans and a cosy oversized jumper. His curls were ringlets that reached his shoulders, and his beard was neat and trim. 

“Who did you mean?” 

Wincing, I frowned, my face cycling through about five different expressions before settling on a smile that, I hoped, lit up my whole face. “Me. I meant me. I’m —” Freezing, I held out my hand to this man, briefly forgetting my name. 

“I know who you are. I’m Sean, your engineer.” 

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for helping me.” 

Sheepishly, he shuffled his feet. “Don’t thank me too profusely. This is my first time doing this on my own.” 

“Congratulations!” My voice squeaked out a little too loudly. “This is my first time recording in a real studio. My podcast is normally recorded in a tiny room at home that I’ve converted into a studio.” 

“I’ve heard your podcast,” Sean reveals. “My partner and I never miss an episode.” 

Grasping my hands together, I hold them over my heart. “Really? Thank you so much. It’s my baby.” 

“One of these days you’re going to need a producer, you know. You can’t keep doing it all on your own. Not if you want to get bigger. And you’ll need a recordist. And an engineer too.” 

“Oh.” My voice was tiny. His words felt like a scolding and a dismissal of my teensy podcast and my dream to grow it into something larger. 

“No, no. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He was quick to correct my assumptions. “You’ll continue to expand your audience, and more people will want to be part of your team. It’s the natural evolution of recording. Unless you’re not any good – which I’ve already said you are.” 

Choosing to take him at his encouraging word, I set my totes on the sofa in the control room. “Sean, I’m confident we’re going to get along just fine this week.” 

“I’m sorry that you’ve just got me. It’s usually a bigger team here for the Front Room, but…” His voice trailed off, and I focused on his face. 

“But?” 

“It’s nothing.” He mindlessly picked some lint off of the immaculate sound board. “Some of the rest of the team thought it was sacrilegious for you to come into Abbey Road Studios to share your book about how THEY ended.” 

The emphasis on the pronoun made it clear who he meant. “Ah, I see. They refused to work with me even though they had no idea what the book actually says or how much research I did?”

His shoulders raised and lowered, and his eyes roamed the floor. “Like I said, I’m sorry.” 

The reluctance of the rest of the team set like a stone in my stomach, but I shook off the negativity. Oh well. Fuck them. 

“Their loss,” I grinned. 

He smiled back at me. “Agreed. Let’s do this.” Sean gestured around the space, pointing out everything I needed to know, and I unpacked my totes in preparation for the day. “Nice selection of teas,” he commented. 

“My throat gets dry sometimes.” 

As if he needed my explanation. He had worked with loads of people who probably needed tea to lubricate their throats, so it couldn’t be unusual. Why I felt like I needed to justify every bit of my practice was beyond me. I was a professional after all. 

A professional who had no idea what she was doing in a fancy studio like this. 

Apparently I was feeling a twinge of imposter syndrome. 

“Shall I heat some water now?” Sean asked as I unpacked the manuscript with all of its sticky notes resembling the jagged cliffs of Dover. It was really sweet of him to offer, so I agreed. The control room wasn’t very big; other than the sofa, it housed a couple of plants and, of course, the prominent sound board. Sean flicked the switch on the electric kettle to the left of his console and turned back to where I was standing, my manuscript tucked to my chest as though it contained a pirate’s treasure. 

“Let’s get you into the booth,” he said, leading me through the only other door in the small studio. “We mostly do music here, as I’m sure you know. But I think I’ve got things set up well for an audiobook. I brought in this small desk and a chair. If you don’t like the chair, I can find another one. Oh, and I found this.” He directed my attention to a book stand. Sheepishly, he smiled. “I was worried a music stand would be too flimsy.” 

His simple preparations were touching, and my gratitude was boundless. 

My arse settled into the chair, and I sighed at how luxurious it felt on my bum. “Perfect!” I proclaimed, placing the first chapter of the manuscript on the book holder. 

“Great! Let’s try some different microphones and test your voice.” 

An hour plus a few minutes later, we had finalised the microphone choice as well as the calibration of the sound board controls with my voice. My cup of tea was to my right and my coloured pencils were to my left so I could easily grab them to indicate changes to my delivery. 

To record, Sean closed the door between the control room and the booth, but I could see him through the full sized soundproof glass inset on the door between us. During the first couple of hours, he would encouragingly nod to me at times. Or he would grimace, and I would know I had to read a section differently. Or louder. Or softer. Or with more expression. 

“Uh, this first chapter will probably take a long time to record,” Sean shuffled his feet as we finished our morning tea. “Don’t panic. Once we get into a groove, the rest of the book will go much faster. It’s just that we have to, you know…” 

“I understand,” I commented, nodding graciously. “It’s fine. As long as we get finished with the book by the end of the week…” 

“Oh, that won’t be hard.” He flapped his hand at me. “We might even have time on the last day to record a few of your upcoming podcasts.” 

“Really?” I was intrigued at the thought.

“But only if we don’t get too distracted.” 

Ha! What could possibly distract me from my work? 

I found out the answer to that question that very afternoon. 

Sean and I were finally recording chapter two, our bellies full of the lunch he’d convinced a studio runner to take away from a nearby Indian restaurant. The remnants, half-full boxes of rice and curry with naan bread, covered the top of the coffee table by the sofa. 

We had switched out the comfy chair for a wooden stool so that I could sit upright, practise my best posture and, most importantly, not fall asleep after the heavy meal. Sean played the roles of engineer, recordist, and director with joy and a skill that I came to both appreciate and disparage as the early afternoon flew by. 

 When I looked up from the script in front of me as we were in the middle of chapter three, I was surprised to find Sean turned towards the main studio door, his lips moving as though he were talking to someone. 

“Hey!” My voice expressed my gentle offence in his headphones. “I thought we were a team, but you’re not even listening!” 

He shook his head, removing his headphones and punching the button for his microphone. 

“Take five. There are a couple of fans of yours out here who want to meet you. I think you might recognize one of them.” 

Ugh. Fine. 

Standing from the stool, I stretched my arms over my head, my vintage Beatles t-shirt rising and revealing my belly button. Through the large window between the booth and control room, I watched as Sean stood, his head bobbing up and down and a grin on his face. 

When I could stall no more, I opened the door, leaning against the door jamb as I examined the two men standing by the studio door.

“Hi,” said one. 

My jaw dropped as the other man’s face came into focus. Holy shit. How was he here? Had Sean joked about him being a fan? He must have been because there was no way… 

“Jeff Azoff,” I breathed, attempting to speak coherently. “You’re Jeff Fucking Azoff.”

“Yes” was his smooth answer. “And I’m sure you know who this is…” He gestured to the man with him, and I shifted my gaze briefly to him. While extremely handsome, his face didn’t ring any bells, but I decided I’d better be polite and go along with the implication that I should know him by sight. 

“Nice to meet you,” I muttered, quickly turning back to THE Jeff Azoff. “How did you…? I mean, holy shit. The number of times your father’s name has appeared in my research is staggering. Did you grow up surrounded by all of those musicians? REO Speedwagon? Dan Fogelberg? The fucking Eagles?” 

“Yes,” he nodded. 

Man of few words. 

“What was it like? Oh wow. What I would give to pick your brain. Did I hear Sean correctly? You’re a fan? You listen to my pod?” 

Once more, he bobbed his head in answer to my multiple questions. And then he tried to hoist me off on his friend again. 

“Harry has worked with some other great artists,” Jeff began, nodding towards his companion. 

Dismissively, I waved my hand in the direction of the handsome man who simply grinned, an extraordinary dimple appearing. 

“YOU know my podcast?” I demanded of Mr. Azoff.

“Yes.” 

Holy shit. Confident I would need to pry any future responses out of him, I placed my hands on my hips. 

“You’ve heard my series about the Eagles then?” 

“Indeed.” 

“And? What did you think? Are you going to tell me everything I got wrong?” 

“No, but I really think you might want to talk to Harry about…” 

I interrupted. Whoever this Harry was, I was much more curious about this man’s take on my podcast. “Has your father heard my podcast?” My voice may have squeaked a little when I asked the question. 

A nod was the only reply I got before he turned back to the bloke with him. 

“Is this weird for you?” 

“No.” The handsome man appeared to be amused as his lips twitched to the side, and his eye crinkles magically appeared. “Unique, but not weird.” 

Narrowing my focus on the handsome one, I squinted. “You’re a musician recording here?” 

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he grinned. “I’m Harry.” When my face still showed no signs of recognition, he added in a smooth voice with a northern accent, “You might have heard of me. My music has won a few awards. Harry Styles.” 

The blood drained from my face. I had been freaking out over Jeff Azoff when the muse to Stevie Nicks was standing in front of me? It was Harry who grasped my elbow when I started to fall over from a lack of oxygen, gently guiding me to the sofa. 

“Maybe some water?” he asked Sean who rushed into the booth to grab my water bottle, handing it to Harry quickly. 

“Sip it slowly,” the Grammy winner said, and I ignored his instructions, nearly choking as I sucked water into my lungs. “Hey, hey. Easy there.” Glancing at Azoff, Harry laughed, “This feels more normal.” 

“You –” I choked, coughing between words. “You – know – Stevie – Fucking – Nicks.” 

Curiosity furrowed his brow. “That’s why you nearly passed out? Because I know Stevie?” 

“You not only know her.” My voice was filled with incredulity and awe. “You’re her muse. You’ve performed with her – and with Fleetwood Mac. And you were the one who inducted her. Holy fuck. You must have done something right in life.” Stopping, I swallowed. “Holy fuck. I must have done something right in my life.” 

He had settled on the sofa next to me, his face a mass of confusion. His head was tilted, and his lips were pursed as he scratched at his head. 

But I didn’t have time to wait for him to catch up. “You can introduce me! Fleetwood Mac is my next podcast series, and if this book does well, I might write a full book about them. I’ve been engaged in a deep dive of reading about their time as a band. I’ve read everything I can find – official or not. In fact, there is a stack of books on my nightstand about Stevie and Mick and the rest. You have to introduce me. It would mean the world to me.” 

My pleading must have broken through his confusion, and he cleared his throat. “You want me to vouch for you to Stevie? I don't really know anything about you.” 

“But you listen to my podcast, right?” My head swivelled between Harry and Jeff. “Oh! You could read my book. See what my style is. I swear I would do right by Stevie. I’m so disappointed that I didn’t get to meet Christine before she… Anyway, I’ll do anything for an introduction. What do you need from me?” 

“Anything?” Harry humoured me. 

“Yes.” Swallowing, I nodded eagerly. 

“You’re saying I could read your book? The one that’s not yet published? The one you’re recording now?” 

My head bobbed like a cormorant. 

“The one that’s about The End? That book?” 

I hadn’t stopped my silly affirming as my head continued to move in the same up and down pattern. 

“And maybe Jeff could read it too? And my friend Paul?” 

My head froze, mid-bob. “Paul? Sir Paul? Sir Paul Fucking McCartney?” 

Harry laughed, a delightful tinkling sound, his head rearing back with his joy. “Does everyone in your world have the same middle name?” 

“Huh?” 

“Fucking. Jeff Fucking Azoff. Harry Fucking Styles. Stevie Fucking Nicks. Sir Paul Fucking McCartney.” 

Slapping my hand over my eyes and forehead, I groaned. “Please don’t tease me or joke with me. I’ve been trying to get Sir Paul to talk to me and read the manuscript since I started writing it. Not a single response to my queries.” 

“Hmmm…” Harry murmured, tilting his head to one side. “So if you would do anything to meet Stevie, what would you be willing to do to meet Paul?” 

“Name your price.” I was hoping he wouldn’t ask for much. All I had was the flat I shared with a friend from uni and a wardrobe of vintage clothing I’d carefully culled from a variety of charity shops.

“I get to be there when you meet them.” My head whipped up so that our eyes connected. “Plus five dinner dates with me.” 

My eyes narrowed, “In addition to any meals we share with Stevie or Paul?” 

Nervously, he licked his lips and glanced at Azoff who shrugged, seemingly disinterested. 

“Yes.” 

Author's Note: This really is just an introduction to these characters as part of a series on Meet Cutes. Who hasn't dreamed of meeting Harry Styles somewhere? Live vicariously through these women who randomly run into Harry Styles as part of their normal lives. How might one chance meeting change their lives forever?